Evil's Point 8
By SIHansonWeasleyGamgee
Finally!! Here's the next chapter of my fanfic. :::glomps each of my reviewers::: Thank you guys sooo much for your continued support of my story!! As I've said before, you're what keeps me writing!! Now, for your enjoyment, Chapter Eight of Evil's Point!!!
It was a quiet, ordinary night in Imladris. The elves on guard sat at their posts, watching the entrance to Rivendell intently. Evil did not enter Rivendell, but since the arrival of Frodo, Sam, Merry, and the ailing Pippin, Elrond had commanded that Rivendell be watched with more vigilance than usual, in case some news of the other Fellowship members arrived.
Suddenly, one of the guard elves sat up. A group was approaching Rivendell, moving slowly as if they were heavily burdened. As they came nearer, the guard elves noticed that the group was composed of elves--from Mirkwood, judging by their dress. They bore among them a litter, as if for a body.
The elves came into a clearing, and the guard, Beregufond, started. A dwarf was among them, and unless he was much mistaken, the dwarf was the notorious Gimli. This in itself did not startle Beregufond. The fact that Prince Legolas, Gimli's greatest friend, was nowhere to be seen, did.
The group advanced now to the borders of Imladris. An elf dressed as a herald stepped forward and blew on a horn. "His Highness, Prince Legolas Greenleaf of Mirkwood!" he announced.
All four of the guard elves stood up at this and gazed in shock at the litter borne by the elves. There lay Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, seeming to be asleep, face twisted with pain. The four guards gasped.
Gimli now stepped forward. "Elves of Rivendell, we have come seeking the help of Lord Elrond. Legolas is very ill. We must see Elrond immediately!"
Beregufond bowed. "Of course, master dwarf." Deciding to leave the news of Pippin's condition for others to tell, he commanded another guard to take a message to Elrond. The guard ran off, and Beregufond beckoned to the group of Elves and Gimli. "Come," he said. "I shall guide you to Lord Elrond."
Shortly, the elves came to Elrond's quarters. The half-elven lord was bending over Pippin, whose breathing was labored. His hand was bound with many bandages. As the three other hobbits in the room recognized Gimli and Legolas, they all stood up and began talking at once.
"Gimli!"
"What is wrong with Legolas?"
"How can you have gotten our message already?"
"Oh no, not Legolas as well!"
Gimli held up his hand. "Well met indeed, my dear friends!" he said. "But I fear our reunion must wait. Legolas is dreadfully ill. Lord Elrond, we need your assistance."
Elrond, turning from Pippin, surveyed Legolas gravely. "This is indeed grievous," he said. "It would seem whatever malice has infected Pippin has gotten Legolas as well, for I perceive the same aura around both of them. I shall have to set to work immediately, but to what avail, I do not know. I have already been tested sorely with Peregrin. But I shall do my best to help them both."
Elrond came and lifted Legolas from his bier, and the elves gratefully lowered it to the ground. One of Elrond's elves quickly pulled back the covers of a bed next to Pippin's, and Elrond laid Legolas onto it. He bent close to the elf, as if to listen to his breathing, and pulled away quickly, a horrified look on his face.
"What devilry is this?" he exclaimed. "His light is weakening..."
All the elves within earshot of Elrond winced and pressed their hands to their hearts. Grimly, Elrond issued commands to the healer elves. They left the room, walking briskly and seeming a little paler than elves normally are.
"Lord Elrond?" asked Merry. "What does that mean, his light is weakening?"
Elrond sighed and turned to the young hobbit. "It means, Merry, that his inner light—the life force of the elves—is fading. An elf's life force never wanes, unless the elf is sick, wounded or wills himself to die. When an elf's light is fading, it means the elf is dying."
Merry gasped and gazed at Legolas with fear in his eyes. "W—will you be able to help him, Elrond?"
"I do not know," Elrond answered solemnly. "I am drained from working on Pippin...but I must try to save them both. I only hope it is not too late...Healers!"
Many elves, who had been gathering in the hallway, suddenly streamed into the room at Elrond's command. With grave glances at their woodland brother, they gathered around his bed.
"You know what we must do, my healers," Elrond addressed the somber folk. "May the Valar bless our healing and save the light within us all." At this, the elves all bowed their heads. Looking up, determination etched into their faces, they laid their hands onto Legolas. Slowly and softly, they began to sing.
"A Elbereth Gilthoniel!
Silivren penna miriel,
O menel aglar elenath!
Na-chaerad palan-diriel,
O galadhremmon ennonath,
Fanuilos, le linnathon,
Nef aear, si nef aearon!"
The elves now began a slow, rhythmic chanting of sorts, while Elrond's voice rose above the rest.
"Calad edhellen, sí gen eston, uin-nûr e-gûr eledhrim! Lach Eru, ad lacho, caro laug i edhel i nâ ring. O Gilthoniel, lasto iest mîn, anno ammen i gam lîn an edraith an nost mîn. Mîn i reviar thar-´aearon tegir ad i galad anhen."*
The elves all started to glow brightly, so that the hobbits had to avert their eyes. A humming filled the room, a humming of immense energy and light and life. The chanting sped up and grew louder. Now, the room was full of the elves' chanting, seeming to throb with vivacity and spirit. After some time, Elrond's voice again rose above the rest, the voice of a mighty lord invoking help from the gods.
"Eru, the One, Father of us all, we beseech thee! Valar, O you mighty spirits, we beseech thee! Send the Light and the Fire and the Warmth! Caro laug i edhel i nâ ring!"
His words were taken up by all the Elves.
"Caro laug i edhel i nâ ring! Caro laug i edhel i nâ ring! Caro laug i edhel i nâ ring!"***"
It was as if some sort of explosion had taken place in the middle of the room. Every elf in contact with Legolas threw his head back, eyes and mouth wide open. Light—or what seemed to be light—streamed from the sky, through the elves, and into the motionless elf on the bed. The humming reached such a pitch that the hobbits plugged their ears, petrified, praying that it would all stop—
Suddenly, everything did stop. The elves all collapsed forward, landing on Legolas's bed, gasping for breath. Only Elrond remained standing, though he looked absolutely drained, like a mortal who had just run a mile. The hobbits watched, open-mouthed, gazing at Legolas. He remained quite still, though something about him was different. He looked much healthier, and his skin was glowing faintly. The very air above him seemed to shimmer with vitality. No one moved or spoke.
Slowly, Merry unplugged his ears, and asked, "Is...is he all right?"
Elrond reached out a hand, placed it upon Legolas' forehead, and closed his eyes. For several tense moments, he said nothing. The other elves straightened up, looking less winded now, and watched their lord anxiously.
The elven lord slowly raised his head. He gazed absently past the hobbits, at a beautiful tree outside the window. Slowly, Elrond turned his head from side to side, and his lips formed a single word.
"No."
Author's Note: "A Elbereth Gilthoniel!" is a poem by J.R.R. Tolkien, found in The Lord of the Rings, and I claim no authorship of this poem (as if anything I write could be that good!!). It's one hundred percent Tolkien's work.
*"Elven light, I call you now, from the depths of the Eldar's soul! Flame from Eru, burn once more, warm the Elf that lies so cold! O Star-kindler, hear our pleas, help us now to save our kin, we who wander 'cross the sea, return the light of life to him!" (Literal translation: "Elven light, I name you now, from the deep of the elves' inner mind. Flame [of] Eru, flame again, make [him] warm, the elf that is cold. Oh Starkindler, hear our wish[es], give to us your hand for saving our kin. We that wander across-ocean, bring back the light to him.")
*** "Make [him] warm, the elf that is cold! Make [him] warm, the elf that is cold! Make [him] warm, the elf that is cold!"
–Translated by Lothenon of the LOTR Plaza.
By SIHansonWeasleyGamgee
Finally!! Here's the next chapter of my fanfic. :::glomps each of my reviewers::: Thank you guys sooo much for your continued support of my story!! As I've said before, you're what keeps me writing!! Now, for your enjoyment, Chapter Eight of Evil's Point!!!
It was a quiet, ordinary night in Imladris. The elves on guard sat at their posts, watching the entrance to Rivendell intently. Evil did not enter Rivendell, but since the arrival of Frodo, Sam, Merry, and the ailing Pippin, Elrond had commanded that Rivendell be watched with more vigilance than usual, in case some news of the other Fellowship members arrived.
Suddenly, one of the guard elves sat up. A group was approaching Rivendell, moving slowly as if they were heavily burdened. As they came nearer, the guard elves noticed that the group was composed of elves--from Mirkwood, judging by their dress. They bore among them a litter, as if for a body.
The elves came into a clearing, and the guard, Beregufond, started. A dwarf was among them, and unless he was much mistaken, the dwarf was the notorious Gimli. This in itself did not startle Beregufond. The fact that Prince Legolas, Gimli's greatest friend, was nowhere to be seen, did.
The group advanced now to the borders of Imladris. An elf dressed as a herald stepped forward and blew on a horn. "His Highness, Prince Legolas Greenleaf of Mirkwood!" he announced.
All four of the guard elves stood up at this and gazed in shock at the litter borne by the elves. There lay Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, seeming to be asleep, face twisted with pain. The four guards gasped.
Gimli now stepped forward. "Elves of Rivendell, we have come seeking the help of Lord Elrond. Legolas is very ill. We must see Elrond immediately!"
Beregufond bowed. "Of course, master dwarf." Deciding to leave the news of Pippin's condition for others to tell, he commanded another guard to take a message to Elrond. The guard ran off, and Beregufond beckoned to the group of Elves and Gimli. "Come," he said. "I shall guide you to Lord Elrond."
Shortly, the elves came to Elrond's quarters. The half-elven lord was bending over Pippin, whose breathing was labored. His hand was bound with many bandages. As the three other hobbits in the room recognized Gimli and Legolas, they all stood up and began talking at once.
"Gimli!"
"What is wrong with Legolas?"
"How can you have gotten our message already?"
"Oh no, not Legolas as well!"
Gimli held up his hand. "Well met indeed, my dear friends!" he said. "But I fear our reunion must wait. Legolas is dreadfully ill. Lord Elrond, we need your assistance."
Elrond, turning from Pippin, surveyed Legolas gravely. "This is indeed grievous," he said. "It would seem whatever malice has infected Pippin has gotten Legolas as well, for I perceive the same aura around both of them. I shall have to set to work immediately, but to what avail, I do not know. I have already been tested sorely with Peregrin. But I shall do my best to help them both."
Elrond came and lifted Legolas from his bier, and the elves gratefully lowered it to the ground. One of Elrond's elves quickly pulled back the covers of a bed next to Pippin's, and Elrond laid Legolas onto it. He bent close to the elf, as if to listen to his breathing, and pulled away quickly, a horrified look on his face.
"What devilry is this?" he exclaimed. "His light is weakening..."
All the elves within earshot of Elrond winced and pressed their hands to their hearts. Grimly, Elrond issued commands to the healer elves. They left the room, walking briskly and seeming a little paler than elves normally are.
"Lord Elrond?" asked Merry. "What does that mean, his light is weakening?"
Elrond sighed and turned to the young hobbit. "It means, Merry, that his inner light—the life force of the elves—is fading. An elf's life force never wanes, unless the elf is sick, wounded or wills himself to die. When an elf's light is fading, it means the elf is dying."
Merry gasped and gazed at Legolas with fear in his eyes. "W—will you be able to help him, Elrond?"
"I do not know," Elrond answered solemnly. "I am drained from working on Pippin...but I must try to save them both. I only hope it is not too late...Healers!"
Many elves, who had been gathering in the hallway, suddenly streamed into the room at Elrond's command. With grave glances at their woodland brother, they gathered around his bed.
"You know what we must do, my healers," Elrond addressed the somber folk. "May the Valar bless our healing and save the light within us all." At this, the elves all bowed their heads. Looking up, determination etched into their faces, they laid their hands onto Legolas. Slowly and softly, they began to sing.
"A Elbereth Gilthoniel!
Silivren penna miriel,
O menel aglar elenath!
Na-chaerad palan-diriel,
O galadhremmon ennonath,
Fanuilos, le linnathon,
Nef aear, si nef aearon!"
The elves now began a slow, rhythmic chanting of sorts, while Elrond's voice rose above the rest.
"Calad edhellen, sí gen eston, uin-nûr e-gûr eledhrim! Lach Eru, ad lacho, caro laug i edhel i nâ ring. O Gilthoniel, lasto iest mîn, anno ammen i gam lîn an edraith an nost mîn. Mîn i reviar thar-´aearon tegir ad i galad anhen."*
The elves all started to glow brightly, so that the hobbits had to avert their eyes. A humming filled the room, a humming of immense energy and light and life. The chanting sped up and grew louder. Now, the room was full of the elves' chanting, seeming to throb with vivacity and spirit. After some time, Elrond's voice again rose above the rest, the voice of a mighty lord invoking help from the gods.
"Eru, the One, Father of us all, we beseech thee! Valar, O you mighty spirits, we beseech thee! Send the Light and the Fire and the Warmth! Caro laug i edhel i nâ ring!"
His words were taken up by all the Elves.
"Caro laug i edhel i nâ ring! Caro laug i edhel i nâ ring! Caro laug i edhel i nâ ring!"***"
It was as if some sort of explosion had taken place in the middle of the room. Every elf in contact with Legolas threw his head back, eyes and mouth wide open. Light—or what seemed to be light—streamed from the sky, through the elves, and into the motionless elf on the bed. The humming reached such a pitch that the hobbits plugged their ears, petrified, praying that it would all stop—
Suddenly, everything did stop. The elves all collapsed forward, landing on Legolas's bed, gasping for breath. Only Elrond remained standing, though he looked absolutely drained, like a mortal who had just run a mile. The hobbits watched, open-mouthed, gazing at Legolas. He remained quite still, though something about him was different. He looked much healthier, and his skin was glowing faintly. The very air above him seemed to shimmer with vitality. No one moved or spoke.
Slowly, Merry unplugged his ears, and asked, "Is...is he all right?"
Elrond reached out a hand, placed it upon Legolas' forehead, and closed his eyes. For several tense moments, he said nothing. The other elves straightened up, looking less winded now, and watched their lord anxiously.
The elven lord slowly raised his head. He gazed absently past the hobbits, at a beautiful tree outside the window. Slowly, Elrond turned his head from side to side, and his lips formed a single word.
"No."
Author's Note: "A Elbereth Gilthoniel!" is a poem by J.R.R. Tolkien, found in The Lord of the Rings, and I claim no authorship of this poem (as if anything I write could be that good!!). It's one hundred percent Tolkien's work.
*"Elven light, I call you now, from the depths of the Eldar's soul! Flame from Eru, burn once more, warm the Elf that lies so cold! O Star-kindler, hear our pleas, help us now to save our kin, we who wander 'cross the sea, return the light of life to him!" (Literal translation: "Elven light, I name you now, from the deep of the elves' inner mind. Flame [of] Eru, flame again, make [him] warm, the elf that is cold. Oh Starkindler, hear our wish[es], give to us your hand for saving our kin. We that wander across-ocean, bring back the light to him.")
*** "Make [him] warm, the elf that is cold! Make [him] warm, the elf that is cold! Make [him] warm, the elf that is cold!"
–Translated by Lothenon of the LOTR Plaza.