Guess what?! I finally downloaded AOL instant messenger! I would absolutely love to hear from any of you 'in person' – I'm addicted to chatting and my computer is almost always on while I'm at home. My screen name is NekoMegamichan0 if you're interested. Also, while I'm feeling shameless – you can check out my artwork (it's not very good, honestly) at

Thank you for the reviews on chapter nine and I really hope that you all get a kick out of chapter ten. This is where the actual plot gears up again! Yay! (Wow, my shortest drivel ever!)

On the West Wind Sails the Gull

By NekoMegami_chan
Nekomegami_chan@hotmail.com

Chapter IX

Visitors at Supper, Friends at Dawn and The Road West

            Frodo was surprised when a knock sounded on his door. Such an occurrence was not uncommon of course, but the fact that it came during supper, a time when most respectable hobbits were gathered around their tables made the arrival of a visitor highly unusual. As the Ring Bearer excused himself from the table, his first thought was that it was Gandalf; the wizard always chose to appear at odd times. This idea cheered him greatly, for Bilbo was wintering with him in secret and to have all his dearest friends in his home at once was a wonderful prospect.

Nevertheless, as he stooped to peer through the peephole, Frodo paused to consider the fact that it was danger which lay on the other side. His time in the wide world had changed him greatly and he was frequently suspicious of anything which seemed out of place. Cautiously he looked through the little glass lens in the door, but all he could see was a curious veil of green.

            When the knock came again it was accompanied by a lilting voice that could only belong to an Elf. "Master Frodo? Are you at home?"

            The hobbit promptly threw the latch and greeted his visitors (for there were indeed a whole host of the fair folk standing on his front porch) with a generous and welcoming smile. "My apologies, Master Elf; I was at supper. But never mind that now. Won't you please come in?"

            "Yes, please," the Elf replied, and gesturing to those behind him to wait outside, ducked into the house. He was not quite as tall as most of his people, and his sleek dark hair floated close around his narrow face in a way that reminded Frodo of a falcon or other hunting bird.

            Frodo led the way back to the dining room and drew up a chair for his guest, one of several he kept for when Big People came to visit. Bilbo set down his fork and wiped his mouth on a napkin before greeting the Elf, "Good day Valandil. What business brings you so far West of Rivendell?"

"There is danger brewing again in Middle Earth," he said simply, accepting a glass of wine from his host. "I have been sent from Imladris to offer you protection, Ring Bearer."

Bilbo interrupted, frowning. "Danger? But what danger could be so great that Elrond would send out such a warrior as yourself, and so many of your fellows?"

"You flatter me Master Bilbo. However," Valandil grew serious, turning again to Frodo. "We came quickly, hiding our weapons and disguised from the ever-watchful eyes under the guise of travelling into the West – though that is of little importance now. Much has happened lately that you are not aware of. I think that Gandalf would have liked to explain matters himself, but he has been called to his duties as the White wizard and could not come. Instead, I will tell you the story as I know it; it will not take long.

"At the beginning of the year Lord Elrohir, the younger twin son of Lord Elrond, sent out a letter by way of King Elessar's court to be delivered to Prince Legolas. The letter contained an invitation for the Prince to come to Imladris, though what it said exactly I do not guess as it is a private thing. The messenger finally located the Prince where he had been staying at a roadside inn, not two months ago. Master Gimli had parted company with Prince Legolas only the day before and thus he sent an affirmative reply ahead of him and left the next day. The messenger rode quickly as he had been bidden and delivered the Prince's letter within little over a fortnight.

"Prince Legolas rode the three days' journey to the foot of the Misty Mountains and turned his horse loose with directions to make the long trip around to the South. Now on foot, he began the passage of the Mountains, taking the most direct route in his eagerness to arrive at Imladris. He made good time, for the weather was in his favour, and in a mere week and a half had crossed to the near side of the mountains. At dusk, five days out from Rivendell he was attacked by orcs and wounded when the fight brought an avalanche. Though gravely hurt Prince Legolas managed to struggle onward," Valandil watched the hobbits' round faces grow troubled as he continued and he wished he could spare them this story and the reason for his arrival here.

"Meanwhile, Lord Elrohir was growing concerned and when the Prince was several days later than expected, King Elessar and Master Gimli were notified by way of messenger birds. Luckily, the King was not far, having been abroad for purposes which are not known to me. Also, Master Gimli was in a position to come quickly as well. In Imladris, a search party was formed. The twins and Lord Elrond went in the company of Lord Glorfindel and with the grace of the Valar were able to find him, badly injured but alive."

"That is good," Bilbo said, his heart lightening some. "You had me very worried for a while there." Beside him, Frodo listened silently.

Valandil nodded, but did not stop his story. "Now we come to the real reason as to why I have been sent here. On their way to aid in the search for Prince Legolas, both King Elessar and Master Gimli were ambushed by orcs in the woods near Rivendell. And though both members of the Fellowship were unharmed, of the orcs there was no trace to be found afterward! A council was called by Lord Elrond and Gandalf arrived to attend it. It was discovered that all their recent correspondence had been interrupted and it was ruled that the three attacks were no mere consequence. Someone with a dark power seeks the blood of the Fellowship. And so I have come to protect you from harm."

"I do not wish to think what these ill tidings may bring; for all of Middle Earth. How is this possible? The One Ring was destroyed. I threw it into the very fires of Mount Doom!" said Frodo, distraught.

"That also, I do not know," sighed Valandil. Then he smiled reassuringly. "Still, as I said earlier – Gandalf is abroad and perhaps all will come to naught. We must have hope."

"Yes. It seems there is little to be done on my part; at least for the time-being. Only I do not have room for so many Elves under my roof! This is a modest home, even by Hobbit standards and I fear you would not be very comfortable."

Bilbo nodded and tapped his chin in thought. "Yes, quite a problem! Quite a problem indeed."

"Do not worry for us! If we might make use of your barn we would consider it more than adequate," suggested Valandil.

"Gracious no!" Frodo shook his head. "A barn is no place for a company of Elves!"

"Why not? It seems to be in good repair," the Elf captain maintained.

 "I keep it so for when my friends come riding ponies. Alright," consented Frodo. "Though I still wish I could offer you better hospitality."

Valandil rose from his seat and bowed to the Ring Bearer. "I am happy to serve you Master Frodo. Think no more of it. If you will excuse me?"

"Of course," Frodo stood as well, though Bilbo apologized for not getting up with a wave of his palm. His knees were often sore in the colder months and he was more comfortable sitting at present.

"I can show myself to the door. Only, one more thing if you please. I strongly recommend that you tell all your neighbours, as they will certainly be curious, that we are as I have said and only pilgrims to the West – staying the winter in your barn."

Frodo laughed, "They'll believe it! We Bagginses already have quite a reputation for being queer. No one will think anything of it!"

Valandil smiled in response and let himself out.

* * *

            The world was dark with sleep, so early was the hour in which Elrond woke and rose from his bed. The stars murmured an eternal lullaby to the land below. A thick mist rolled off of the Bruinen, spilling over its banks to pool in the valley. In the stables, horses dozed or ate. Silence reigned in Imladris now, both within and without. It was a time where even the memory-dreams of Elves were heavy and quiet.

            Elrond made his way to Erestor's rooms, his heavy winter sleeping robes rustling softly. The clothes which had been laid out for him the night before were draped over one arm and his embroidered boots were tied by the laces to dangle around his neck. It might have thrown an unsuspecting Elf into shock to see the noble lord bedraggled and walking in stocking feet though the corridors before dawn. This was how Elrond Peredhil preferred to start his days.

He paused in the hall in front of his advisor's door. On either side lamps burned steadily, reflected in the mirror-like surface of the polished floors like fairy lights. Beyond the mahogany portal he could hear Erestor and Glorfindel's hushed voices and the small sounds of plates being set out and drinks being poured. For Elrond, these were among the sounds that made Last Homely House his home.

Erestor's elegantly smiling face appeared a moment later. His midnight locks, usually straight and impeccably plaited were gathered messily atop his head, stray wisps framing cheeks the colour of fresh milk. He was barefoot and wore simple white breeches and a long shirt. There was little wonder why many young elf-maidens so desired him, though Erestor never returned their attentions. He was married to his duties, preferring service over more personal domestic pursuits. "You are tardy," he said as he had many times to the various members of Elrond's household. "We had thought that perhaps you might prefer to sleep away the small hours of the morning." Erestor added; ushering his lord into the room.

Elrond's reply to the gentle teasing died on his tongue. His favourite breakfast dishes were laid out on the table; soft boiled eggs and flaky meat pies, hot apple tarts, toast and honey were ringed by mugs of steaming cider. The large window on the east wall remained closed, but the draperies had been drawn aside in preparation for the coming dawn. A fire blazed merrily in the hearth, breathing warmth and fragrance into the room.  

Glorfindel leaned against the mantle and his golden tresses were free to his waist, falling like sunlight on the forest green of his tunic. To Elrond's eyes the Eldar always shone brightly with a power which was not limited to physical dimensions; yet the otherworldliness of him was almost tangible when Glorfindel began to sing. His voice lifted in a whimsical tune as Erestor removed the boots and day clothes from Elrond's arms.

Amongst the many stars

Once there lay

Three shining souls

Three hearts at play

Yet far below

 The child of Galadriel did pray

And the Valar sent down

Two souls to stay

Like lively Sparrows

To Arda they came

Bringing sweet joy

And love without shame

All was well, for a time

'Til it became plain

All missed the one

Which above did remain

Again a prayer

This from the Son of the Star

And the third soul descended

To parent's loving arm

For many seasons

Five hearts were one

Still for each

A separate path is spun

The Child of Galadriel

Found peace on a distant shore

And the granddaughter of the stars

Set aside immortality forevermore

\

And now the Sparrows

To Eagles grown

And now take flight

To leave their home

And though they go

May your heart be yet merry

Good Elrond, Son of the Star

Do not long tarry!

            "I will hold that song dear to me and count it among my favourite gifts," Elrond praised. "And may the Valar indeed speed my work in this world. Now let us eat this beautiful meal ere it grows cold with waiting!" With that the three Elves sat down to what promised to be their last breakfast together for quite some time, and spoke only of fond memories.

* * *

            It was nearing ten o'clock in the morning by the time that the last of the pack horses had been loaded. Travelling with Erestor, Elladan, Elrohir, Legolas and Gimli were seven others, including two married couples. In all, nearly fifty Elves and dwarves had gathered in the courtyard of Imladris to see them off. Though farewells were being exchanged, an air of holiday had settled over the valley.

Elrond climbed onto a bench to address the crowd. The winter sun cast a gentle radiance on the Lord of the Last Homely House as he greeted his people. Not wanting to draw out the hour, he continued directly to the point. "I wish you a safe journey. To those of you who will not be returning, I would ask you to watch for the arrival of the Grey Ships with every tide so as to welcome all who follow. The thoughts of us which yet choose to remain go with you." A round of polite applause broke out and many an eye was moist. "Elrohir, Legolas – please step forward," Elrond said when the noise had died down.

The crowd parted to let them pass. Elrohir walked slowly over the snow, keeping step with Legolas, whose cane only added to his princely bearing. Together they came to stand before the Lord of Imladris. Elrond's clear voice rang through the courtyard, "No ceremony is necessary for Elves to wed. When two immortal hearts are joined no witnesses are needed because any who thereafter see them will be witness to their love for one another. Yet here are two who desire to be so bonded; Elrohir Preredhil and Legolas Thranduilion. Would you now publicly make the commitment that your hearts have already prepared to make?"

Legolas turned his head to meet Elrohir's gaze. They had not expressly talked about this since before the War of the Ring. Their thoughts mingled and raced. Both knew that this was not logically the most opportune time; danger lurked behind every stone and they would be parted in a matter of weeks. Yet no reason of the mind could overshadow the reason of the heart. Instantly they were of an accord and at that moment they became one in spirit. "We are," Elrohir and Legolas said as with a single voice.

He took their right hands and his. "I give you my blessing, my sons."

Erestor and Elladan came forward to place pale flowers from Imladris' greenhouses on Legolas' and Elrohir's hair. Glorfindel presented them with Arod and the grey horse arched his neck nobly while Elrohir lifted Legolas into the saddle and climbed on behind him.

Gimli coughed and pretended to smooth his thick brows. All around Elves danced merrily and the dwarves were back to back as if expecting the questionably sane immortals to attack them. One stout dwarf with a grey beard cast a sidelong glance at Gimli who stood apart from them. "You spend time with these creatures voluntarily?" Ere Gimli could reply he was accosted by laughing Elves and lifted onto a horse. The beast moved forward of its own volition and it was all he could do to hold on.

With a final round of farewells, Erestor mounted and rode to the head of the column and led them out of the valley. Though the sound of Elven voices still filtered through the trees, Legolas leaned back into Elrohir's shoulder and sang: 

The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.*

* * *

Sorry things took so long! Holidays and exams and my horses all conspired to use up most of my writing time the last few weeks. Thank you so much for your patience and I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I can't wait until the next one!

* This of course belongs to J.R.R Tolkien. I claim Glorfindel's song though, that one's mine!