.
! STOP !
*WARNING*
It appears that the FF site is STILL acting up, and not sending out notices of posted chapters. So please make sure you are reading the correct one in order...don't get mixed up and skip one.
Hopefully, the site will fix itself soon. *sigh*
.
.
Chapter 180
~X~
For seven days, Flinn waited and worried, begging anyone who rode in for word about his friend…yet no one knew anything. It was nice visiting with Bilbo, though their friend had grown older, and tended to doze off now and then while they were speaking. Flinn, as well as Gimli and Frerin, were happy that the dear hobbit was safe within the walls of Rivendell, where it would appear that no forces of the enemy could harm him.
On the morning of the eleventh, Gandalf rode in, yet much to Flinn's dismay, the grey wizard new no more than he about Frodo's whereabouts. He was at least able to give them hope that Frodo was not alone, saying that not only was Sam Gamgee with him, but a Ranger as well. No one was quite sure of the identity of the other two hobbits who were seen traveling with them, however. And while it was good to have Gandalf's reassurance that Frodo was not alone, and that many were out searching for them…that did not stop Flinn from fretting over his sword-brother. Where was he?
Yet on the twentieth of October, news came in at last…yet it was not all good news. Glorfindel had indeed located the errant hobbits, yet not before they were set upon by the Black Riders that Elrond had told them about, wounding Frodo with a blade to his shoulder. Later on, another encounter with the wraiths caused him to be separated from his companions, the others wishing to get Frodo away safe, and to Rivendell as quickly as possible. Glorfindel's horse, Asfaloth, had born the wounded hobbit as far as the Ford of Bruinen, where the waters of the river rose up in a magnificent display, sweeping the enemy far away downstream.
Frodo was then taken to the halls of healing, where Elrond himself tended to his wounds. Frerin, always keen on learning new techniques in medicine, was allowed to be present, quietly standing off to the side in order to observe. He would come out periodically and give his brother and Gimli updates on Frodo's condition, until Elrond said there was nothing more for the dwarf prince to see, and sent him out as well. Gimli went to update Bilbo, while the two brothers waited there.
By the time Frodo's other companions arrived, Elrond had left, promising to check on his progress later, with Flinn and Frerin keeping watch at his door.
"How is Mister Frodo?" Sam Gamgee begged to know the moment he was led to where his friend was being kept. "Is he going to live?"
"They have not told us anything for sure yet," Flinn informed him, seeing just how distraught everyone was.
"Lord Elrond has seen to him personally, and if anyone in Arda can heal him, he can," Frerin spoke up. "He worries that a piece of the blade might still be in the wound, but they cannot find anything as of yet. He is unconscious right now, and Gandalf said he will let us know when we can see him."
"But he's not out of the woods yet," Flinn told them, looking disheartened by that fact. He then took note of the other two hobbits who had entered with Sam. "Merry, Pippin! You came as well? I've heard that you've not had an easy time getting here."
"That's an understatement!" Merry nodded, looking as if he had been drug through a muddy bog…twice. "But what are you doing here? You two are a long way from Erebor."
"We came to deliver a message from King Thorin," Flinn explained. "Yet when we arrived, we were told that Frodo and three others were lost in the wilds."
"And we still would be, if not for Strider here," Pippin agreed, gesturing to the tall man standing behind them, also looking eager for news about Frodo.
"Strider?" Flinn questioned, taking a good look at him, before his eyes opened in surprise. "Thorongil?"
"Aye, Prince Flinn," the man said with a bow of his head. "It is I. Though I no longer go by that name. I am Aragorn now…or Strider to some. It has been many years since we last met, and I did not think you would remember me."
"And why wouldn't I?" the dwarf prince questioned. "You saved my Uncle Kili from being eaten by a bear. That's something that is hard to forget."
"Ah, yes, Prince Kili," Aragorn nodded with a wide smile. "And how is your accident prone kin?"
"Still prone to accidents," Frerin laughed. "Though becoming a father has caused him to settle down some. That and Aunt Tauriel's influence."
"Is your aunt well? As well as the rest of your kin?" Aragorn asked.
"She is, as are the rest of our family," Flinn assured him. "Yet, right now I'm more concerned about my sword-brother. He looked so pale and lifeless when they brought him in, what happened?"
"Mister Frodo was attacked by Black Riders," Sam explained, the fear and pain in his eyes telling Flinn that it had been a frightening thing indeed. "Oh, it was terrible Flinn," the sandy haired hobbit lamented. "If it were not for Strider here, we would all be dead now for sure. In the end, it was poor Mister Frodo, that took the worst of it."
"But Elrond has the skills to heal him, young Samwise," Aragorn reminded the distraught hobbit. "You need to have faith, and try to rest."
"I won't be able to rest at all until I've seen Mister Frodo up and around with my own eyes!" Sam stated firmly, plopping down on one of the benches by the door. "And here I'll sit until I can do just that."
"Well, then we can keep each other company," Flinn agreed, taking a seat next to Sam. "For I'm not leaving either."
"What about dinner?" Pippin asked, a touch of disappointment in his tone.
"Or a hot bath?" Merry added, looking down at his muddy feet and clothes.
"A bath will have to wait, and you can bring me my dinner right here, if you've a mind to," Sam said stubbornly.
"Very well, we will not attempt to displace you," Aragorn nodded, seeing the stubborn look in Sam's eyes. "I will see to your companions and then have someone return with provisions for you both."
"I'll join you," Frerin stated, heading for the door. "I'd like to hear more about what tempted the four of you to leave the Shire. I thought, other than Mister Bilbo, you hobbits never went on adventures."
"Not by choice, I can guarantee you that!" Pippin stated, heading out of the room, talking a mile a minute and telling Frerin everything that had happened to them since setting foot out of the Shire.
.
.
Once the others had gone, Flinn turned and looked at Sam, the poor little hobbit looking completely worn out.
"I wish I had known all this was going on," the dwarf said in a sad voice. "I feel terrible that I was not there to help him."
"How do you think I feel?" Sam's tone revealing his misery. "I was there and still unable to protect Mister Frodo. After that foul thing stabbed him, he just kept getting sicker and sicker, and there was nothing I could do."
"Well, you managed to get him to where he could receive healing…and Lord Elrond promises he will do everything possible to help him," Flinn stated, doing his best to placate the worried hobbit. "But don't give up hope, Sam, nor blame yourself, for Frodo wouldn't want that, and you know it. As much as we would like, we can't always protect those we care about…it is a sad fact of life."
"So it would seem," Sam said with a sigh of disappointment.
The two fell into an uneasy silence, with Sam unable to stop himself from dozing now and then, until Gandalf came out and said they could both come in.
"He is not out of danger yet, but we have done all we can at the moment," the grey wizard informed them. "You can sit with him if you like, but do not expect him to wake just yet. But speak to him, let him know you are here and that he is safe, it might help chase away any bad dreams."
"Will…will he die, Mister Gandalf?" Sam nearly sobbed, seeing Frodo looking so pale.
"We hope not," was all the wizard could say on the matter. "Elrond is doing research now, thinking perhaps a piece of the blade broke off inside the wound…but we are not sure." He then laid his hand upon Sam's shoulder. "Do not give up hope, Master Samwise…Frodo's proven to be the sturdy sort. There's still hope." He then gave Flinn a nod of sympathy as well, before leaving the two alone with Frodo.
"His hand…it's so cold," Sam told Flinn, holding the icy appendage close to his chest. "That can't be good."
"Nothing about this is good," the young dwarf agreed, sitting on the other side of the bed. "We just have to do as Gandalf said…stay with him, and not give up hope."
.
.
However, as the days dragged on, and Frodo didn't improve, that became harder and harder. Flinn and Sam took turns sleeping and eating, making sure that one of them stayed with him at all times. Elrond was in around the clock, checking on him, assessing the wound, and taking council with any who had experience with such a wound. Bilbo, Merry, Pippin, and Frerin visited often, though it was Sam and Flinn who kept a constant vigil. Aragorn and Glorfindel visited as well, though they were kept busy with other matters, chiefly the protection of Rivendell and gathering information on the strength and location of the enemy. Even confined mostly to Frodo's bedside, they had heard that many were arriving from every direction, seeking advice or bringing messages of great importance. However, the only thing that Flinn and Sam were concerned about was Frodo.
Finally, four days after having been brought in, Elrond was at last able to locate and extract the sliver of the blade that had indeed embedded itself in Frodo's shoulder. According to Frerin, who was once again allowed to stand quietly at the side while Elrond worked, the vile thing had been working its way towards Frodo's heart, and if it had made it there…the hobbit would have been done for. Yet the moment it was removed, and melted down in order to destroy its power, Frodo began to show signs of improvement. When Elrond proclaimed that the hobbit was indeed on the mend and the worst was over, Gandalf was at last able to convince Flinn and Sam to go get some much needed sleep.
It was later in the afternoon when Sam and Flinn woke at last, only to be told by Gandalf that they should go see if Frodo was feeling up to coming down for dinner. You could have dropped them both with a feather over the news, but without a word, they raced to his room to see. When they knocked, and heard Frodo's voice granting them permission to enter, they burst through with wide smiles on their faces.
"Frodo! You're up!" Flinn cried, barely able to contain himself, yet not wanting to harm his friend with a boisterous hug.
"It's warm!" Sam gushed, taking hold of his arm and rubbing it gently. "Meaning, your hand, Mister Frodo. It's been so cold these past few days and nights. But glory and trumpets, it's warm at last. You had us terrible worried!"
"I am feeling much better now, Sam," he told his hobbit friend, understanding from what Gandalf had told him just how worried everyone had been over his health. "And Flinn! I was shocked to hear that you are here! What brought you to Rivendell?"
"Uncle Thorin sent us to deliver a message, and when we arrived, we heard that you were missing, lost in the wild!" Flinn recounted. "Sam and I took turns sitting at your bedside until they promised us you were out of danger."
"I'm sorry to have worried you all, truly," Frodo apologized. "But I'm well now and feeling rather hungry. Could you show me where to find dinner?"
"Of course!" Flinn smiled, and since he had spent more time in Rivendell than Sam, he led them to the dining hall.
.
.
There they were reunited with Gimli, Aragorn, Glorfindel, Elrond and Gandalf, all having left a place of honor for their brave travelers. Sam sat on one side of Frodo, with Flinn on the other, both unwilling to let the hobbit out of their sight. Frerin, Merry, and Pippin were there as well, along with many others they had never met before, both elf and man.
Yet the one that struck the newcomers the most was a beautiful dark haired elleth, sitting beneath a canopy near the middle of the table. So alike was she in womanly form to Elrond, that it didn't take long for Flinn to figure out that she was the Lady Arwen, daughter to the elf lord, and sister to Elladan and Elrohir. This was confirmed when both brothers entered and took their places at the table, one on either side of her. They must have just returned from scouting or something, for thus far, Flinn and Frerin had not seen hide nor hair of the twins.
"Prince Flinn!" Elladan called across the table, once he had spotted the young dwarf. "And Prince Frerin! It is a delight to see you both once again in Imladris. Are you traveling alone?" He seemed rather shocked at the idea.
"Nay, we came with Master Gimli, as well as many of our Uncle Thorin's soldiers," Flinn assured the now concerned looking elf.
"Your father and uncle are not with you, then?" Elrohir asked, looking a bit deflated by their absence.
"No, they were required to remain behind in Erebor," Frerin spoke up. "Though they bid us give you their greetings should we meet."
"I hope their greetings are the only things they sent," Elladan laughed. "I am not sure we are prepared for another one of their pranks."
"Aye," Elrohir chuckled, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Yet I often miss the feel of that fine beard your Uncle Kili gifted me with at our last meeting,"
"Well, I can assure you that he is not missing the delightful shade of purple you bestowed upon him," Flinn laughed.
"Have I missed something?" Arwen asked, looking from her brothers to the young dwarf questioningly. "When did you grow a beard, Elrohir…and what's this about a purple dwarf?"
"It all happened while you were away in Lothlórien, dear sister," Elrohir told her with a wide smile. "See what fun you miss when you go visiting our mother's kin?"
"It would seem that I need to remain at your sides constantly, just to keep you two out of mischief," she told them, raising one of her eyebrows in an elegant fashion.
"Prince Flinn, Prince Frerin, may I present to you my daughter, the Lady Arwen Undómiel," Elrond introduced. "Arwen, these are King Thorin's great-nephews."
"I have indeed heard much about you, and your entire family, young princes," Arwen smiled. "My brothers have spoken of your father and uncle many times, yet apparently I am not quite up to date on all the pranks they have been playing on one another. Much to the dismay of my father, of course."
"Yes, even our uncle wishes to run and hide whenever the four of them get together," Flinn assured her.
"Yet, I find the fact that your Uncle has taken one of our kind as a wife very intriguing," she pressed, her expression turning to one of sincere curiosity. "An immortal choosing to wed a mortal is not a common occurrence. How are they dealing with such a thing?" And if anyone noticed that her eyes flashed momentarily at the handsome ranger sitting a few seats away, no one chose to comment on it.
"Well enough," Flinn nodded, knowing exactly what the pretty elleth was getting at. Long have those close to Kili and Tauriel known of the heartbreak the two must experience when old age and death at last came calling. Yet no one spoke of it, doing their best to put off such grief until absolutely necessary. "It is of course a concern, yet they prefer to focus on the here and now…not what is eventually to come. Yet, my aunt has stated many times that she would rather live one lifetime with my uncle, than a thousand without him. And I know he feels the same way. They also have two strong sons together, and just learned that another child is on the way."
"Really, how marvelous!" Arwen's sincere joy over the news returned the smile to her face. "My congratulations to them both."
"Yes, as well as our condolences," Elladan chuckled. "For if his children are anything like Kili…we truly pity Tauriel."
"I am certain she would appreciate your sympathies," Flinn replied, always having enjoyed the teasing nature of the elf twins. "And might you both remember Frodo Baggins, my sword-brother?"
"Ah yes!" Elrohir nodded. "And a very famous hobbit in his own right, not to mention the center of a great deal of trouble, from what we have been told."
"Not intentional, I assure you, Prince," Frodo stated with a slight blush. "I would much prefer to have remained where I was and not set foot outside the Shire…but that was not what Gandalf recommended. And as ever, I find that his wisdom is best heeded."
"As do we all," Elrond nodded. "But tonight is not the time for such speech, for it will be the focus of our meeting tomorrow. Lay aside your cares and enjoy your meal, Master Baggins, for later I have a pleasant surprise for you."
.
.
The surprise Frodo had been promised turned out to be an unexpected reunion with his beloved kin, Bilbo. The sleepy little hobbit waking up just long enough to share a long conversation with Frodo, the two of them going off alone to speak about private matters. Flinn decided to wander around, while Frerin chose to check out the elves library, always thirsty for knowledge. As the young dwarf prince walked along, enjoying the architecture and peacefulness, he came upon Gimli, leaning against a railing and staring off into the distance.
"Gimli…what's got you looking so thoughtful tonight?" he asked, joining his distant cousin.
"Nothing," he replied, a bit startled by Flinn's appearance, for apparently he had been lost in his own mind. "Nothing at all, lad."
"Hmmm," Flinn hummed suspiciously. "Might it be a pretty dark haired dam that currently resides in the Iron Hills?"
Gimli turned a stunned pair of eyes at the blond dwarf.
"How did you…I mean…what dam?" he stammered.
"Oh, give it up, my friend," the younger dwarf laughed. "I saw the two of you when we left Erebor. You were giving her calf eyes, and she was batting her lashes at you as well. A blind troll could have figured out the two of you were sparking."
"Well…if we were, there's nothing that can be done about it now," he huffed, turning back to where he had been looking before.
"Is she your one?" Flinn asked, not having any idea what the mysterious sensation felt like himself.
"Didn't have much chance to find out," Gimli admitted. "But had I the opportunity…I would have liked to have spent more time in the lass' company."
"There's always time when you get back home," the prince told him. "If it's Mahal's will…it will happen. Don't give up hope."
"Thanks, lad," Gimli smiled, patting the lad on the back. "You truly do take after your father, you know that? It almost feels like he's right here, brightening my spirits like he's always done."
"I do try to emulate him," Flinn confessed, having always idolized his adad.
"I think most dwarrow feel the same way about their own fathers," Gimli agreed.
"Well, just as long as you don't go destroying Erebor's gates, you can imitate your adad all you want," Flinn laughed, elbowing the somber dwarf, making him bark out a laugh over the long-standing joke.
.
.
The following day, the Council of Elrond was held in a secluded garden area, with many seats surrounding a small stone table. Flinn and Frerin sat beside Gimli, with Frodo and Bilbo to their left, followed by Gandalf and then Elrond. Beside him was Glorfindel, Elladan and Elrohir. The other two elves Flinn had only been briefly introduced to the night before, but recalled that their names were Erestor, a member of Elrond's council, and Galdor, who came from the Grey Havens on an errand for Cirdan the Shipwright – the only other elf besides Elrohir to have ever sported a beard.
Yet when Flinn saw another elf, a regal blond one dressed in green, enter and take a seat beside the sons of Elrond, his eyes grew wide. He had never had the pleasure of meeting Thranduil's son, Legolas, but he was certain that this was he. The resemblance between he and his father was uncanny, though if pressed, Flinn would have to say that Legolas had more golden hair, and perhaps a more cheery look to his face. Still, the dwarf prince was excited to meet him at last, and looked forward to doing so in person after the council was over.
The next to take their seats were three men. One was Aragorn, which Flinn had to stop himself several times from calling him Thorongil, and another man dressed very similar to him, though he was a stranger to his eyes. The third was a tall man with a fair and noble face, yet proud and stern as he observed those around him. He was cloaked and booted as if for a journey on horse-back; and though his garments were rich and of fine quality, they were stained with evidence of long travel. Besides his long sword and round shield, he bore a great white horn, tipped with silver. When his eyes landed on Frodo and Bilbo, Flinn could see that the sight of them both stunned and intrigued him. He supposed that seeing a hobbit for the first time would be rather startling…but for the dwarf prince, it was nothing new.
Before Flinn could think more on this, Elrond called the meeting to order. After a quick round of introductions, where he learned that one of the unknown men was named Boromir, the eldest son of the steward of Gondor, and the other was called Halbarad, also a Ranger from out of the north. He was also pleased to know he had guessed correctly and that the blond elf was indeed Prince Legolas, and Flinn prided himself on the fact that he did indeed resemble the picture he had drawn of him for Thranduil so many years ago.
As the meeting continued, many were asked to tell of what they knew, with Flinn standing up for the dwarves and relating the tale of how the mysterious stranger had visited Erebor, Dale and the Iron Hills, offering bribes for information about hobbits and the name of Baggins. Gandalf also had much to say, both about Saruman's betrayal, and how he and Aragorn had hunted down and captured Gollum, leaving him to be guarded by the elves of Mirkwood. Yet at this, Legolas rose and spoke, regret and great distress in his tone.
"Alas!" he cried. "The tidings that I was sent to bring now must be told. For upon returning to the land of my birth, after a being away for many years, I was informed that the creature known as Sméagol, whom you now call Gollum, has escaped."
"Escaped?" Aragorn gasped. "This is ill news indeed, and before the end, I fear we shall all rue it bitterly. How did this happen?"
"Not due to lack of watchfulness, I assure you," Legolas guaranteed. "But perhaps through over-kindness. That and we fear the creature had outside aid in his escape. My father's soldiers guarded the creature day and night, though they did not have the heart to keep him locked in the dark dungeons below the earth, and often took him above, to walk amongst the trees and fresh air. It was there they were set upon by a band of orcs, and when the battle was over, the creature Gollum had escaped."
"I don't recall you being so kind or accommodating to my father and the rest of Thorin's company," Gimli groused, never having quite gotten over the insults heaped upon his kin during their imprisonment in Mirkwood. "For they were never treated to such niceties, but instead tossed into your dungeons without a second thought or care!"
Here, Legolas's expression turned to one of offense, and his hand automatically went to the hilt of a blade he wore at his hip. Gimli, not about to be intimidated, also gripped his ax handle a bit tighter, ready for whatever the elf intended. Thankfully, Gandalf put a stop to this.
"Now come, Master Gimli," Gandalf said in an appeasing tone. "That was a regrettable misunderstanding, one that has long been set to right. Do put past grievances aside, for if we spend all our time bickering amongst ourselves, Mordor is sure to win."
"Gandalf is right," Flinn spoke up, rising and bowing to Legolas in hopes of making peace. "The elves and dwarves have made great progress in our relations over the years, and it would be foolish to see it end here. We beg your pardon, Prince Legolas, and pray that you do not hold my kin's thoughtless words against us."
"My father has spoken very highly of you, Prince Flinn," the blond elf replied, also nodding his head in respect. "He says you have the fine head on your shoulders, and the heart of a diplomat. I can see that he has not overestimated your skills in negotiations. Thus I will indeed overlook your companion's insult, and harbor no ill will against the sons of Durin."
"You have my gratitude," Flinn replied, sitting back down and giving Gimli a stern look. He may be older than him by many years, and his cousin…but Flinn was still a prince, and heir to the thrown – thus the red bearded dwarf bowed his head, accepting the chastisement.
Next, the man named Boromir rose and told his tale and what had brought him to Rivendell.
"My younger brother, Faramir, and I both shared a perplexing dream, and in this vision a voice was heard, remote but clear, saying:
Seek for the sword that was broken,
In Imladris it dwells;
There shall be counsels taken
Stronger than Morgul-spells.
There shall be shown a token,
That doom is near at hand,
For Isildur's Bane shall waken,
And the Hafling forth shall stand.
"So it was that I came, hoping to learn the meaning of this riddle. And while I am more than surprised to learn that the old legends of such creatures as Halflings truly exist, I still do not know of what this token might be, nor Isildur's Bane."
"Here is the sword that was broken," Aragorn spoke up, stepping forward and laying his sword on the table in the center of the circle, and it was indeed in two pieces. "This is Narsil, the sword of Elendil, the blade that cut the one ring from off Sauron's hand. It was handed down to his son, and his after him, and now it has come to me."
"And who are you that you should claim such an heirloom?" Boromir questioned, looking down his nose at Aragorn, as if he did not find him deserving.
"He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn," Bilbo spoke up, his weathered little face now red with indignation. "And he is descended through many fathers from Isildur, Elendil's son of Minas Ithil!"
"He is also chief of the Dúnedain in the North, an heir to the throne of Gondor!" Halbarad insisted, just as angry as the hobbit over Boromir's lack of respect. "As a subject of Minas Tirith, you owe him your allegiance!"
"Peace, my friends," Aragorn said soothingly, yet obviously touched by their defense of him. "Yet, I am who they say." He stated proudly, daring Boromir to doubt him.
"Then it belongs to you and not to me at all!" Frodo cried out, springing forward as if he expected the man to demand the ring from him at once.
"It belongs to no one but the one who created it, and he must never get it back," Aragorn said sadly. "But it has been ordained that you hold it a bit longer."
"I would say the time has come for everything to be revealed," Elrond nodded, looking over at Frodo with an almost sad expression. "Bring forth the Ring, Frodo."
Thus, as everyone watched, the young hobbit stepped forward and removed a chain from around his neck, slipping a simply gold ring from it and placing it on the stone table next to the broken blade. A gasp of shock was heard around the room, and whispers of amazement and doom. Flinn had never been a slouch when it came to his studies, and he had long ago learned the history of the rings of power, but never had he dreamed he would ever behold the one ring! And to think…first Bilbo, and then Frodo, had it all the time! In fact, Flinn had slept under the same roof as Sauron's weapon many times while in the Shire, and never knew it. Just wait until his Uncle Thorin heard about this!
Over the next several hours, all debated on what was to be done with the ring. Some suggested hiding it, or giving it to Tom Bombadil, and even going so far as contemplating tossing it into the depths of the ocean. But none of these solved the problem, it only delayed it, leaving it to be dealt with again down the road. It was even suggested that they send it over the sea, to the undying lands, and yet no one wished such evil upon others.
"The ring must be destroyed!" came the adamant voice of Aragorn. "It cannot be used, it cannot be hidden, and we can't send it away."
"Yet, the power to destroy the ring is beyond any of us," Elrond explained. "It cannot be crushed, nor melted down. For even the hottest forges of the dwarves are not enough to undo the evil that is bound up in such a thing."
"Then…it must be unmade," came Flinn's voice, speaking out as if he had only been thinking to himself.
"What was that, young prince?" Elrond questioned, his brows furrowed together.
"I…I said that it must then be unmade, in the same way it was created," he repeated, this time more forcefully. "Only where it was forged to begin with can its power be undone."
"Yet the ring was created in the fires of Mount Doom, and that is right in the heart of Mordor itself," Elladan pointed out.
"And one does not simply walk into Mordor," Boromir pointed out, his tone a bit condescending.
"Still…Prince Flinn has a point," Gandalf spoke out. "All the other suggestions we had were ones that enemy might actually imagine we would choose…yet he could never conceive that we mean to destroy his ring. And that might be the key to our success. By walking into peril, we might in the end triumph."
"You can't be serious!" Boromir argued. "The smart thing to do is use the ring, defeat the dark lord by turning his weapon against him."
"Have you heard nothing that's been said here today?" Elrond barked, as if fed up with such foolish ideas. "The ring is altogether evil, and whomever tries to use it for good will find his efforts, and himself, corrupted. There is no other way to succeed, than to throw the foul thing into the fires of Mount Doom."
"And yet…who will take it?" came the weary voice of Gandalf. "It must be done with secrecy and not force of arms. Where an entire host would fail, a few might go unnoticed."
Everyone was murmuring, talking amongst themselves or silently contemplating their own thoughts. Flinn looked around, there were many wise and brave warriors present, and if he had to choose the most likely to succeed, he would have put his money on Glorfindel. And yet, he was not the one who stepped forward, making the self-sacrificing offer…it was Frodo!
"I will go…I will take the ring," he said in a rather small and fearful voice. "Though…I do not know the way."
All eyes turned and stared at the hobbit in shock, some with looks of skepticism, and others with admiration. Yet no one spoke up to contradict his selfless offer.
"I think this task has been appointed to you, Frodo," Elrond nodded, though his face was troubled and his eyes filled with pity. "Now is the time for the Shire folk to show their true worth. You are brave indeed to take on such a burden."
"But surely you won't send him off alone!" came a disbelieving cry from Sam, springing from his hiding place in the bushes and coming to stand beside Frodo's chair.
"No indeed, Master Samwise," Elrond said, turning towards the stout hobbit with a smile. "You at least shall go with him. For it is hardly possible to separate the two of you, even when he is summoned to a secret council…and you are not."
"A nice pickle we've gotten ourselves in, Mister Frodo…and no doubt about it," Sam muttered, blushing a bit at the elf lord's words.
"And yet, are there any others that wish to accompany the Ring Bearer?" Elrond continued, looking around at all the faces.
"I will go with Frodo," Flinn spoke up bravely, though he had to admit he felt anything but. His amad was going to skin him alive for this!
"While your loyalty to your sword-brother is commendable, Prince of Erebor," the elf lord told him with a kindly smile. "I fear that you are still too young for such a mission."
"WHAT?" Now Flinn was insulted. "I'm the same age as Frodo, and years older than Sam, and yet you would allow him to go but not me?"
"The difference here, is that Frodo and Sam are past the age of adulthood for their race…while you, Prince Flinn, though brave and well trained, are still considered a minor, and I would not send one so young into undoubtable peril."
"That's not fair…not fair at all!" Flinn protested. "I am Frodo's sword-brother, sworn to protect and defend him. To force me to remain behind would be an insult to my honor as well as our friendship."
"And yet, as I stated, I will not consent to you joining the company, Prince Flinn," Elrond repeated, this time a bit more firmly, making it clear that his mind would not be altered on the matter.
"Then I will go in his place," Gimli spoke up, stepping forward and placing his hand on Flinn's shoulder. "As your kin, and subject of Erebor, I will stand for my prince, taking his place in the company and swearing to lay down my life in Frodo's protection."
"Gimli…you can't!" Flinn hissed, turning so that he and the older dwarrow could keep their words between themselves. "This is my duty, not yours, and what about your lass…the one in the Iron Hills?"
"I think Astra would understand, seeing as how I'll be attempting to help save all of Middle Earth," he said with a half-hearted smile. "Besides, dams love the hero type…and this just might be the thing that makes her fall head over heels in love with me. I mean, I can't expect to win the lass with my brains or looks, so this might be my best shot." He then became deadly serious. "But in truth…I want to go, to do something to help in all this. I may be quaking in my boots over the idea of traveling to Mordor, but I would hate myself for the rest of my life if I didn't, lad. I ask for your leave, my prince. Let me do this."
Flinn stared at Gimli for a long while, wishing he could say no, and then force Elrond to relent, allowing him to go instead. But Flinn had seen the look Elrond had just given him many times before…but on his adad's face instead. The young dwarf knew when he was fighting a losing battle, and this appeared to be one of them. So with a sigh of utter regret, he nodded sadly, giving Gimli his permission.
"So it is settled?" Elrond questioned, seeing the resignation in young Flinn's eyes. "Master Gimli will represent the dwarves in your place, Prince?"
"Yes…though I do not like it," he announced. "I should be the one to go!"
"And had this all occurred a few years hence, perhaps you would, but it is either Gimli…or no one," Elrond warned.
"He may go," Flinn conceded at last.
"If the dwarves intend to be represented on this quest, then I volunteer to go for the elves," Legolas spoke up, giving the red bearded dwarf a bit of a sneer. "Someone will need to keep this hot headed rock crusher in line."
"Oh, and you think you're strong enough to take me on, you pointy eared tree-dweller?" Gimli spat back.
"Well, it looks as if I will need to go along as well," Gandalf said with a longsuffering sigh. "If for no other reason than to keep those two from killing one another!"
"And Frodo shall have my sword to protect him as well," Aragorn swore, walking over and going down on one knee before the shocked hobbit. "If by my life or death, I can save you, I will."
"Then I will go too, to represent Gondor," came the voice of Boromir, looking almost irritated by the idea. "For I will not have a Ranger dare to go where I will not."
"Then that brings the number to seven, with all races being represented; hobbits, elves, men, and dwarves," Elrond nodded with a pleased look.
"WAIT!" came another cry, this time from the bushes on the opposite side of the clearing, and out popped Merry and Pippin, rushing forward to stand beside the others who had volunteered. "You can't leave us behind, for if you try, we will hide in the wagons like Flinn and Frerin once did, and go along anyway!"
"Where we are going, there would be no way to take a wagon," Gandalf informed them.
"Then…then we would follow on foot!" Merry insisted.
"You'll have to tie us up in sacks and send us home against our will if you mean to leave us behind!" Pippin added firmly.
"Quiet, Pip," Merry whispered. "Don't go giving them any ideas!"
"I am not sure you two realize the danger you would be walking into," Elrond warned them.
"Nor do any of us who have already sworn to go," Gandalf spoke up in their defense. "And I would think in this case it would be best to trust to their friendship than in great wisdom."
"Is he calling us idiots, Merry?" Pippin whispered to his cousin.
"Hush, he's on our side for once," the older hobbit hissed at his companion.
"Very well…I will accept your thoughts on the matter, Gandalf," Elrond nodded. "Then, if you all be willing to shoulder this momentous task…you shall be the Fellowship of the Ring, the nine walkers against the nine riders of Mordor. And may the Valar protect you all."
Some appeared happy, like Merry and Pippin, while others unsettled, like Boromir, and others still, like Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli, were resolute. Yet only Frodo and Sam looked scared to death, and well they should be. But above all, Flinn was devastated - having been denied the honor of fulfilling his duty to his sword-brother and offer his protection. And after staring at the group before him a few moments longer, the young dwarf could stand it no more, and turning on his heels, he ran from the clearing, not wishing for any to see his tears of humiliation and frustration!
"Flinn! Wait!" Frodo cried out, but he was already gone.
Oh dear, Flinn is sad! He wants to go with Frodo so badly, but has been forbidden. What will he do now?
And look, the Fellowship is formed, and now all can proceed very much the same way it did in the book - minus finding dead dwarves in Moria. And while I kind of made Boromir seem a bit like a jerk - I really do love how his character evolved and his protective nature over Merry and Pippin, and feel terrible that he is destined to die on the quest. But it can't be helped...otherwise Faramir would not stand out so much later on. *sigh*
I hope you enjoyed my version of the Council of Elrond. And again, I had to have Gimli and Legolas have a bit of animosity at first...makes them becoming BFFs later on all the more special.
More to come!
Guest Reviews:
Guest: (regarding your review from chapter 93) Yes, it WAS originally supposed to be where I ended things, but then this whole Kili issue came along. ha ha. And I couldn't let the lad go without love. ha ha. (and yes, I caught that quote, where Frodo said it to Sam when they thought they were going to perish on Mt. Doom) Nice touch. As for making Fili and Flinn more adorable...well...they make it soooo easy. ha ha. Yah, Thranduil is not such a bad guy...but he and Thorin do love taking jabs at each other. It's a king thing I think. ha ha. Thanks
Guest: (regarding your review from chapter 99) Thanks for popping up to say hello! Yep, Flinn and Frerin are very much like a younger version of Fili and Kili. And I too love their cute and fluffy moments. Ahhh, a Merry and Pipping fan are ya? Well, if you've gotten to this chapter, then you've at least got to read a little bit more about them. Frodo was always the oldest, but I did kind of mess up a few of the ages of them...by putting Merry before Sam, when it should be the other way around. But oh well, literary license and all. ha ha. Thanks for reading and reviewing...looking forward to you catching up.
abc: I am glad you are keeping up on the updates...this is very frustrating to me! And I do like the name that Kili and Tauriel chose...but...um...don't get too attached to it. ha ha. No, I had no idea that Astra meant Stars in Latin. I just plucked her name from the air and said 'that sounds good' ha ha. I really didn't want to go into a big death scene for Storm. I mean I just couldn't have handled THAT. But his legend lives on...in his foals. Flinn was not happy about the wait...but even less happy to find out he can't go with Frodo. How will his sword-brother make him feel better? Thanks.
Feu d'Argent: Yah...I think I can make it next weekend. Let the crowning commence! Flinn is tickled to know he's your favorite. He hasn't stopped talking about all the fun he had with you last week. I think if Flinn had left Rivendell, he would have just gotten himself into more trouble. ha ha. Kili does love making his raids on the kitchen. haha. Yep, Storm spread around his 'love' before he died, leaving many of his offspring to carry on his legacy. Thanks.
