A/N: Oh my God! I'm so sorry! This time, though, I have a legitimate
excuse. I gave up anything to do with Tolkien for Lent! Think about it! 40
days! But I did it! I'm rambling now, so on with the story!
Chapter 7: Dinner With the Fellowship
Lothien walked into "The Dragon's Hearth" just as the sun was sinking below the horizon, turning the sky into a mural of reds, oranges, yellows, and pinks. The inn was actually much cleaner than she expected, but the smell of ale still lingered in the air. Wrinkling her nose, Lothien walked up to the innkeeper. "I'm here to dine with several men tonight. Two of them are Hobbits."
"Four," the innkeeper replied with a rough, scratchy voice.
"Excuse me?" Lothien asked, confused by the abrupt response.
"There are four Halflings, a Dwarf, and an old man," the big Man elaborated. "An odd group they are. I guess it's only fitting for an Elf to join them as well. Follow me."
Lothien did as she was told and ended up in a cozy little room with a fire crackling merrily in the hearth. A table set for ten sat in the middle with the group described by the innkeeper seated around it. All six rose on the Elf's arrival.
"My lady," the old man saluted, nodding to Lothien.
The elf maiden's eyes lit up. "Mithrandir!" she cried running into the wizard's arms. After the embrace, Gandalf held Lothien at arm's length and sized her up.
"Lothien," he sighed, smiling and shaking his head in remembrance. "The last time I saw you, you barely came up to my knee."
The Mirkwood princess laughed. "The last time you saw me, Mithrandir, was three thousand years ago."
"Give or take a few decades," the white-robed Istari shrugged. The two hugged again and sat down at the table.
Lothien was introduced to Gimli the Dwarf, as well as Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took, the two other Halflings.
Samwise gave a sad sigh. "Well, all of us that could make it are here. We should start eating."
"We should," Pippin agreed heartily. "I'm not sure about you, but I'm starved!"
Lothien glanced around her, confused at the empty chairs. Frodo explained this to her.
"You see, Princess," he began, "when the Fellowship gathers, we always set nine places, no matter how many of us come." The Hobbit blinked back tears as he gazed at the three empty chairs. "It's sort of an odd tradition, I guess, but it sort of pays respect to the members who are. never coming back."
Lothien nodded. "I think it's beautiful."
All of a sudden, a young boy poked his head in the room. "Message from Meclan!" he announced.
"That pig?" Gimli scoffed. "What does he want?"
"The prisoner Elf has just reached the city gates. My lord thought you should be informed."
Without pausing a beat, Lothien and the Fellowship shot out of their chairs and headed out the door.
~~~~~~~
Let it end! Legolas pleaded inside his thoughts. Just kill me and let it be over with! Like hunters displaying their catch, the Gondorian soldiers led him though the crowds of onlookers in Minas Tirith. Rotten produce and stones were thrown at the Elf, some hitting their mark. Trapped inside his own mind, Legolas waited until he reached the prison.
Still in a daze, Legolas was thrown into a small cell crowded with at least forty other Men. The stench was overwhelming and the Elf gagged on it. This brought the prince back to reality. He attempted to catch a glance of the room. He was wedged in the front corner of the dank, dark cell. The only light source was the slit of a window in the door. It was heavily overcrowded and noisy as the convicts attempted to catch a glance of the "new tenant."
All of a sudden, a sort of wave washed over Legolas. He became filled with hopelessness and loss. Life isn't worth living anymore, he though as unconsciousness overtook him and he slumped against the prison wall.
A/N: This last part was done in the middle of social class. Forgive me! ~~Elendil
Chapter 7: Dinner With the Fellowship
Lothien walked into "The Dragon's Hearth" just as the sun was sinking below the horizon, turning the sky into a mural of reds, oranges, yellows, and pinks. The inn was actually much cleaner than she expected, but the smell of ale still lingered in the air. Wrinkling her nose, Lothien walked up to the innkeeper. "I'm here to dine with several men tonight. Two of them are Hobbits."
"Four," the innkeeper replied with a rough, scratchy voice.
"Excuse me?" Lothien asked, confused by the abrupt response.
"There are four Halflings, a Dwarf, and an old man," the big Man elaborated. "An odd group they are. I guess it's only fitting for an Elf to join them as well. Follow me."
Lothien did as she was told and ended up in a cozy little room with a fire crackling merrily in the hearth. A table set for ten sat in the middle with the group described by the innkeeper seated around it. All six rose on the Elf's arrival.
"My lady," the old man saluted, nodding to Lothien.
The elf maiden's eyes lit up. "Mithrandir!" she cried running into the wizard's arms. After the embrace, Gandalf held Lothien at arm's length and sized her up.
"Lothien," he sighed, smiling and shaking his head in remembrance. "The last time I saw you, you barely came up to my knee."
The Mirkwood princess laughed. "The last time you saw me, Mithrandir, was three thousand years ago."
"Give or take a few decades," the white-robed Istari shrugged. The two hugged again and sat down at the table.
Lothien was introduced to Gimli the Dwarf, as well as Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took, the two other Halflings.
Samwise gave a sad sigh. "Well, all of us that could make it are here. We should start eating."
"We should," Pippin agreed heartily. "I'm not sure about you, but I'm starved!"
Lothien glanced around her, confused at the empty chairs. Frodo explained this to her.
"You see, Princess," he began, "when the Fellowship gathers, we always set nine places, no matter how many of us come." The Hobbit blinked back tears as he gazed at the three empty chairs. "It's sort of an odd tradition, I guess, but it sort of pays respect to the members who are. never coming back."
Lothien nodded. "I think it's beautiful."
All of a sudden, a young boy poked his head in the room. "Message from Meclan!" he announced.
"That pig?" Gimli scoffed. "What does he want?"
"The prisoner Elf has just reached the city gates. My lord thought you should be informed."
Without pausing a beat, Lothien and the Fellowship shot out of their chairs and headed out the door.
~~~~~~~
Let it end! Legolas pleaded inside his thoughts. Just kill me and let it be over with! Like hunters displaying their catch, the Gondorian soldiers led him though the crowds of onlookers in Minas Tirith. Rotten produce and stones were thrown at the Elf, some hitting their mark. Trapped inside his own mind, Legolas waited until he reached the prison.
Still in a daze, Legolas was thrown into a small cell crowded with at least forty other Men. The stench was overwhelming and the Elf gagged on it. This brought the prince back to reality. He attempted to catch a glance of the room. He was wedged in the front corner of the dank, dark cell. The only light source was the slit of a window in the door. It was heavily overcrowded and noisy as the convicts attempted to catch a glance of the "new tenant."
All of a sudden, a sort of wave washed over Legolas. He became filled with hopelessness and loss. Life isn't worth living anymore, he though as unconsciousness overtook him and he slumped against the prison wall.
A/N: This last part was done in the middle of social class. Forgive me! ~~Elendil