Mae govannen, my readers!
After some demanding exams and the start of the new term, I am pleased to give you the next chapter in my story. I hope you will enjoy it.
Without further ado, here it is.
CHAPTER 2 – THE COUNCIL OF ELROND
"Strangers of distant lands, friends of old. You have been summoned to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle-Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it." Thus Lord Elrond Half-Elven opened his long-awaited Council.
"You will unite, or you will fall," he continued. "Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom."
Laurethiel had an awful premonition. No, it couldn't be! It just couldn't...
"Bring forth the Ring, Frodo."
Laurethiel watched in mute disbelief as the Hobbit approached the central plinth in Elrond's Council Chamber. And deposited Isildur's Bane on it.
"So it is true!"
This was no more than a whisper. But Laurethiel heard each word distinctly. She turned her head in the direction of the voice, saw Boromir of Gondor rise from his seat and, as if under a spell, walk towards the Ring. His eyes had taken an empty look they didn't have when he had entered the Council Chamber. Then, his eyes had shone with all the Gondorian pride and determination he could muster. He had entered the Council with a confident stride, a hand on his sword and the other on the Horn of Gondor, willing all to see how brave he was, and defying anyone to tell him the contrary.
Laurethiel had had trouble recognizing her silent admirer from the night before, so sullen had he been in the Great Hall. Only then had she taken the full measure of the Man, realizing his purpose for being there. His warrior strenght had suddenly filled the room, in sharp contrast to Aragorn's quiet power, to the Elven nature she was used to, unsettling Laurethiel more than she would ever care to admit.
As she was thinking, Boromir said, "In a dream, I saw the Eastern sky grow dark. But in the West a pale light lingered. A voice was crying : 'Your Doom is near at hand. Isildur's Bane is found.' Isildur's Bane." he added, extending his arm.
As Boromir's hand neared the One Ring, Gandalf rose from his seat. All of a sudden, he seemed to take majestic proportions, filling the room with his very presence. Putting in his voice all the might he could summon, he pronounced the fateful words that had forever changed the history of Middle-Earth.
"Ash Nazg durbatulûk…"
Laurethiel felt her eyelids growing heavy with the effect of those words, and was seized with the fear that they would close for good. To hear the Black Speach of Mordor in Imladris!
"Ash Nazg gimbatul…"
No, This could not be! She clutched her hands to her ears, hoping to silence the dread that was seizing her. Her heart was beating faster. And faster.
"Ash Nazg trakatulûk…"
A sudden pain twisted her stomach, forbidding her to take another breath. Laurethiel felt as if she was dying. She couldn't feel the world around her anymore.
"Agh Bruzum-ishi krimpatul. "
With a moan of repressed anguish, she doubled over in terror, feeling all the malice in the words, seeing the Great Eye even as she heard them. Would Gandalf stop! She could not bear things any longer!
Legolas slowly calmed down. He noticed Laurethiel, still caught up in her vision.
By the star of Earendil, he had known she shouldn't have come! He had known she would get one of her forsaken visions! With concern etched on his features, he put a hand on her shoulder, attempting to shake her from her trance.
After a long, drawn-out moment that seemed more like ages, Laurethiel got herself under control again. With a sheepish smile, she looked at her brother, silently thanking him for the comfort he had just given her. The Valar be blessed, her ordeal was over.
Elrond spoke anew. "Never before has any voice uttered the words of that tongue here in Imladris," he said.
Gandalf, his voice seemingly weary from such an effort, replied to Lord Elrond's question, "I do not beg your pardon, Master Elrond. For the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the West! The Ring is altogether evil."
Laurethiel's eye was drawn back to Boromir, who had gone back to his seat, and had started to caress his beard, obviously thinking.
After a few seconds of surprise and fear, Boromir had realised the power of the Ring and let his thoughts run wild. What if we could unleash the power of the Ring on its master? What a wondrously ironical thing would it be!
"It is a gift... a gift to the foes of Mordor!" He did not notice the shocked expressions on the Elves' faces as he stood up, getting more passionate. "Why not use this Ring? Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, held the forces of Mordor at bay... By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy... Let us use it against him!"
Laurethiel couldn't believe her ears... What! To do such a thing! Did not Boromir realise it would be playing right into the Enemy's hands? Someone had to tell him. Someone had to!
"You cannot wield it. None of us can," Aragorn said in a firm voice. "The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master," he added. For one fleeting moment, Laurethiel felt in his voice the strength of old Numenor. Maybe there was still hope for Middle-Earth... Estel...
"And what would a Ranger know of this matter?" A Ranger? Did Boromir not know he was speaking to the heir of Gondor? Laurethiel was about to voice her thoughts when her brother declared: "This is no mere Ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance."
Boromir, surprised to say the least, looked at Aragorn, at last recognizing the Man he saw the night before. How foolish he must have seemed to him, holding Narsil! Still, in his heart, he could not give him his allegiance. Not yet. If the Ranger wanted to be King, he had first to prove himself worthy of the title.
With a voice filled with disbelief, he said, "Aragorn? This is Isildur's heir?"
Legolas insisted: "And heir to the throne of Gondor."
Laurethiel looked at Boromir, looked at his face. She did not need her fleeting magical powers to guess at what Boromir was thinking. But her abilities, heightened by Gandalf's use of the Black Speech, made her painfuly aware of his thoughts.
My King! My King! Is it possible? But why are you without a crown? Why did you choose exile? Oh, Lord Aragorn, where are you when your people need you most? Where are you, descendant of the Royal Line of Numenor? When shall you come and reclaim what is rightfully yours? Long have we waited for you… You know it, yet you do not come!
She vaguely heard Aragorn asking her brother to calm down, to let Boromir come to terms with the news himself. But the damage was done already.
Boromir lowered his eyes, and, with a voice filled with bitter disapointment, declared, "Gondor has no King. Gondor needs no King."
Laurethiel told herself she should have anticipated such a statement. Yet she was as shocked as anyone else. It was a small wonder in itself that she did not have her mouth open in stunned disbelief.
Gandalf, undeterred by events he had somewhat foreseen, brought everybody's attention back to the matter at hand. "Aragorn is right. We cannot use it."
Elrond took his cue, emphasizing Gandalf's point, "You have only one choice. The Ring must be destroyed."
Out of the corner of her eyes, Laurethiel saw movement that converted itself in the shape of a Dwarf, heading mightily towards the Ring, brandishing his axe. "Then what are we waiting for?" he asked, bringing his weapon down onto Sauron's creation.
Only the result was not what he expected. Instead of the Ring being thoroughly smashed, his very own axe was brought to pieces in a powerful clangor that reverberated itself deep into Laurethiel's heart.
The dwarf looked at the handle of his axe, still in his hand, wondering what in Middle-Earth had happened to destroy his weapon so completely. Dwarf-made craft were reputed to be indestructible.
Or so he'd thought, at least...
With a mournful sigh for his beloved axe, the Dwarf got back to his seat.
Smiling ever so slightly at the Dwarf's behaviour, Elrond answered the question everyone was silently asking themselves. "The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloïn, by any craft that we here possess. The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor, and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came.
"One of you must do this."
Laurethiel had not heard this one last bit right. No. This could not be. To go into Mordor, to go into the Forsaken Land, without being detected by the Dark Lord, and to cast the Ring into the fires of Mount Doom? Oh, Iluvatar, what fate have you cast upon your children? Laurethiel did not think one could accomplish such an impossible task.
As if voicing her own doubts, Boromir said, "One does not simply walk into Mordor. Its black gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. And the great Eye is ever-watchful. It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire and ash and dust. The very air that you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly."
Legolas spoke again, decided to talk some sense into this stubborn Man. "Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed!"
Stupid Elves, Gimli thought. Always thinking they know what's best for us mortals. Always assuming we have no wits to decide our own future. Feeling himself on the edge of becoming very angry, he said with barely restrained fury, "And I suppose you think you're the one to do it!"
"And if we fail, what then?" Boromir said, voicing everybody's deepest fear. "What happens when Sauron takes back what's his?" Indeed, Laurethiel thought. Failure was a possibility no one seemed to take into account, least of all Lord Elrond... Or maybe not... He had been there when Isildur had failed. Maybe it was that he was too afraid that the Quest would go astray that he didn't want to acknowledge the possibility in front of others. Because if he showed signs of doubt, then who would not?
Her attention, sent away for one moment, centered itself back to the present when she heard Gimli say, "I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf!"
Suddenly, the beings gathered in this Council lost all pretense of being civilized. This insult was one too many. All the hatred nurtured during millenia gathered itself in a river that showered the occupants of the Council with its blinding strength. Elves and Dwarves stood up bickering and arguing over who should carry the task set before them.
Laurethiel vaguely heard Gimli shouting "Never trust an Elf!". And she should have been incensed, as she was an Elf herself.
But she was not.
Instead, she was seeing things with an exceptional clarity. Did they not realize they were acting exactly as Sauron wanted? By arguing instead of unifying themselves, they gave way to Sauron's dark forces. Only by fighting under the same banner could they hope to ultimately defeat the Dark Lord.
Gandalf tried to have them see reason. But to no avail. The Ring was already unleashing its destructive work upon all present.
Almost.
For one being here did not know the temptation of power.
Frodo, silent for a long time, stood up and said, "I will take it! I will take it!"
As suddenly as the tempest erupted, it calmed itself. All were silent as Frodo advanced himself and declared in a voice he wanted firm and strong, "I will take the Ring to Mordor. Though...," he hesitated, "though I do no know the way."
An immense wave of relief swept Gandalf's frown away. Maybe this quest would be on its way, after all. And he would be there to help.
"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins. As long as it is yours to bear."
A regal and determined voice shot clearly though the air. "If by my life or death, I can protect you, I will." Aragorn stepped forward, his face bearing no trace of doubt. He knelt in front of Frodo and added, "You have my sword."
Yes, Laurethiel thought, there was still hope...
She felt movement to her left, and saw her brother rise and march to Frodo. As he neared the Halfling, he said with his most solemn voice, "And you have my bow."
Laurethiel, too, had risen from her seat ever since Aragorn had spoken. In the confines of her mind, a decision had formed itself, of its own volition. It was as if a voice was speaking to her, a voice that told her to go and join the Quest. A voice that said her presence was absolutely necessary even though it seemed more of a hindrance at present. She had to, even as she knew that the conservative Lord Elrond would most certainly object to her disruptive female presence. It had already been no small a wonder that he had allowed her into this Council.
But she knew she wouldn't be able to put the feeling to rest.
Forgive me, Ada!
In the most daring move of her already long life, she quelled the butterflies she felt in the pit of her stomach, went forward and declared in a low but firm voice, "And mine."
Elrond allowed his eyes to widen. And was about to tell Laurethiel she couldn't possibly think of commiting herself in such a way. But a silent plea from Gandalf stopped him. Indeed, for all his wisdom, it didn't feel wrong to let the Elven maiden in this quest...
Legolas realised the Elven Lord did not object to his sister's pledge. But even as he accepted her choice, he couldn't help but feeling his heart tighten as he thought of the trials his dearest Lotwen would have to endure. This quest might be anything, but it most certainly wasn't a mere stroll in the garden...
As of Gimli, he thought he'd die before he let Elves go and take control of all this. It would definitively not be said that Dwarves let the Elves do all the work and did not commit themselves. They would see what a Dwarf was made of, that much was sure! With resolute steps, he approached Frodo, locked his gaze with the Hobbit's, and said in a gruff voice, "And you have my axe."
Boromir walked slowly towards Frodo, fully realizing the determination that moved the beings here. Wondering much, he said to Frodo, "You carry the fates of us all, little one."
Laurethiel felt in her mind the echo of a fleeting determination to be strong and to uphold the values of the White Tower. She looked at Boromir, who said, with a resigned yet resolute expression as he put himself beside those already commited to the quest, "If this is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done."
Laurethiel looked over at Lord Elrond, who seemed about to make a declaration, when a small voice coming from the bushes behind her interupted, "Here!"
Laurethiel wouldn't have missed the moment for anything in the world. For a split second, Lord Elrond looked as if he couldn't decide if he should be angry, shocked, amused or pleased that this Halfling had irrupted into a secret Council.
The Hobbit Laurethiel would later know as Samwise Gamgee boldly declared as he put himself beside the Ringbearer, "Mister Frodo's not going anywhere without me!"
Amazingly enough, Lord Elrond managed to seem as if he was both scolding and praising the daring Hobbit as he said, "No, indeed, it is hardly possible to separate you from him, even if he is summoned to a secret council, and you are not."
From the open doorway, another voice manifested itself.
"Oi! We're coming, too!"
Laurethiel turned her head, and saw not one but two more Hobbits run towards Frodo. And plant themselves firmly in the ground.
Meriadoc Brandybuck said, "You'll have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!"
Laurethiel smiled as they engaged themselves in friendly banter.
"Anyway, you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission... quest... thing...", Peregrin Took emphasized.
And Merry was quick to remark, "Well, that rules you out, Pip!"
Lord Elrond cleared his throat to get back everybody's attention. If he had been unsettled by the unforeseen additions to the company, his hesitations were laid to rest as his face took its most solemn and serious expression.
"Nine Walkers and one Elf-maiden," he declared. "Indeed we shall need all the help we can muster against the Nine Wraiths, and then some. So be it!" he said with a flourish. With a proud and majestic voice, he concluded, "You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!"
As much as she was taken by the import of the moment, as much as she was supposed to be a sedate and composed Elf, Laurethiel could not help but desperately want to giggle when she heard Pippin characteristically ask, "Great!... Where are we going?"