Disclaimer: If I owned LOTR I wouldn't be sitting here wasting time typing stories.
Chapter Five: The Grey Pilgrim
It began as any other ordinary day—I had spent most the morning in the garden reading a book Elrond had recommended I read for background information on Middle-earth. It was an interesting read, though I began to grow increasingly bored after the first ten chapters. There are only so many battles one can read about in one day. After a while I shut the book and waltzed into the Great Hall, planning on returning to my room to retrieve a different book. I stopped abruptly on the threshold. The Hall was significantly more crowded than usual—Elves I had never seen before were gathered in the center of the room, speaking in hushed tones. I caught a brief glimpse of a very bedraggled and exhausted old man before the sea of faces closed around him again. Arwen was standing near the edge of the crowd, her face drawn in worry.
"What's going on?" I asked as I approached her. She looked up at me, seemingly lost in thought.
"I must go," she muttered in response and turned off in the opposite direction. I trailed after her, slightly annoyed at her strange attitude.
"Arwen…" She ignored me and addressed a passing servant.
"See to it that Asfaloth is saddled up immediately. Hurry." Her tone was urgent, lacking its normal warmth and benevolence.
"Yes, m'lady," the servant replied, quickly scurrying off to see to her request.
"Arwen," I repeated, catching hold of her sleeve. She stopped and faced me, composed, yet visibly shaken.
"I cannot tell you all," she explained, her voice low and her words hurried. "The hour is late and the minions of the Enemy draw near. The Ring must be brought here before it is too late." While the fear in her voice was tangible and the urgency evident, I could not help but be confused.
"I don't see how jewelry has anything to do with this," I said after a moment. She patted my shoulder gently.
"All will be revealed in good time," she promised. "I must go now." I let her go this time and she swept around the corner, her voluminous skirt billowing out behind her. I sighed and turned back to the Hall.
Most of the people, the old man included, had since vacated the premises, only a handful remaining, huddled in small clusters and muttering to one another. I caught sight of Amdir who was standing with several other Elves, his expression tense. I took a deep breath and approached him.
"What's going on?" I asked curtly, ignoring the odd looks I was receiving as result of my rather rude outburst. Amdir looked at me with ill-disguised repugnance.
"Nothing that concerns you," he replied smugly. Some of the Elves gathered around him smirked in silent amusement.
"Fine," I spat, giving a sarcastic smirk. "I'll go ask someone who actually knows what's going on and doesn't have the collective intelligence of gravel." I turned and waltzed away, feeling slightly annoyed with Amdir's response, but satisfied with my own. A hand suddenly caught my elbow and spun me around.
"Gandalf the Grey has come to Rivendell, bringing ill tidings, I assume," Amdir explained, his face dark with suppressed anger. "The Nine walk abroad; Lord Elrond fears for the Ring-bearer."
"Thank you," I replied, despite the fact that he had spoken completely in riddle.
"It would serve you well to be respectful to your betters," he returned, glowering contemptuously.
"If I see any, I'll be sure to remember that," I retorted before waltzing from the room. "That felt good," I said to no one in particular.
Elrond stayed locked up in his study with the man called Gandalf until dinner. Unable to press him or anyone else for answers and not being in the mood to harass Amdir to the point of homicide, I raided all available bookshelves for books that might explain some of what was happening. After plowing through numerous pages and scouring the indexes for information, I had a vague idea of what Amdir had been speaking of as well as an intense wish that I had read the books when Aunt Kate had suggested it.
Unfortunately, Elrond was not willing to talk at dinner that night. He looked deeply troubled and spoke only to Gandalf, who had taken Arwen's seat across from me. He would deliver a silencing look whenever I opened my mouth to ask a question. Instead, I turned my attention to my dinner, while intermittently studying Gandalf. He looked like a conventional wizard you would find in a children's book, with a long and wild grey beard and frayed grey robes. A hat and staff were propped up against his chair, adding to the illusion. He had a rather large beaked nose and bushy eyebrows that were slightly reminiscent of caterpillars. But his eyes were definitely his most striking feature. They were the color of the sea, dark and brooding, seeming to change slightly in the light. They sparkled with a warm kindness that made him appear both young and old, reflecting great wisdom and experience, as well as an innocent freshness. But at the same time, a deeper, darker power was present in his gaze, incredibly striking, but nearly undetectable at a first glance.
It was nearly impossible to not look at him—he was fascinating, always a new side to explore or ponder. Inevitably, I got lost in my own thoughts and did not realize when he began to stare back.
"Your spectator is called Haley Logan," Elrond finally interjected, breaking me out of my thoughts. I flushed crimson and looked down at my plate.
"Sorry…I just spaced out for a moment," I apologized. Gandalf's eyes twinkled and he chuckled knowingly. Elrond managed a small smile.
Elrond and Gandalf eventually returned to brooding and speaking occasionally, leaving me once again to my plate. I entertained myself with attempting to remember the actual plot of the books so I could try and figure out what on earth was happening. Unfortunately, I remembered very little from what I had managed to read, aside from songs and poems every twenty pages.
Confusion, I soon learned, was going to be a rather common feeling for me in Rivendell.
I dressed early the next morning and nearly sprinted down to breakfast, expecting Arwen to be seated serenely at the table with some answers for me.
Of course, she wasn't there and I spent another meal racking my memory for possible clues.
Elrond and Gandalf shut themselves up once again in Elrond's study, leaving me to my own devices. Ruling out asking Amdir as a possible option (he still looked sufficiently annoyed by yesterday's encounter,) I retreated to my room and made a list of questions. By lunchtime I had nearly two-hundred and I presented the completed list to Elrond who accepted it with a raised eyebrow. Unfortunately, he never answered any of them. Call it a hunch, but I think he used it as kindling.
I spent the morning of the following day poring over yet another book in the garden. After my patience had been worn to a thread, I happily shut the volume and commenced wandering around aimlessly, enjoying the nice weather. I was preparing to return indoors when the repetitive thump of hooves on ground stopped me. Arwen suddenly rode in on a beautiful white horse, a small person hugged tightly to her chest. Her face was drawn in panic and I thought I could see tears in her eyes.
"What's wrong?" I asked as she drew the horse to a halt.
"Get Father, quickly!" she exclaimed, her tone urgent and worried. I nodded ran into the Great Hall, and in the general direction of Elrond's study. I skidded to a halt in front of the door and rapped my knuckles sharply on the wood, turning the latch before anyone gave consent to enter. Elrond and Gandalf were seated in twin armchairs, a long pipe sticking out of the corner of Gandalf's mouth. They both stared at me in surprise at my unannounced entrance.
"Arwen needs you," I said simply, slightly out of breath. Elrond stood up abruptly, nearly knocking over his chair in the process. Gandalf's eyes widened and he dropped his pipe on a nearby table.
"Frodo," he uttered, his voice barely audible.
All I can say is for men in robes, they can sure move quickly when they want to.
I made my own way back to the Great Hall at a much slower gait, nearly knocking into Elrond and Gandalf when they bowled past me, the smallish person clutched carefully in Gandalf's arms. I jumped out of the way and returned to the Hall in search of Arwen. She was leaning heavily against a wall, seeming distracted and relieved all at once.
"What just happened?" I asked, hoping for a straight answer.
"I…I have things I must attend to," she replied, waving my question away with a graceful sweep of her hand. "I cannot speak now." With that, she gathered up her skirts and departed, leaving me to wonder why everyone had to be so evasive.