There were so many eyes; drawing the string of male masculinity tight. Several pairs stared at her, questioning and beseeching her presence. She was finding it difficult to keep her head focused forward while they internally interrogated her. . The overwhelming urge to run attacked her weary muscles but she refused to let the insecurities win. Why did she affirm such attention? It wasn't like she was invading upon the "Secret Men's Club." Nope. In fact, she had been invited by Lord Elrond and Gandalf. So why did she feel so out of place?
Taking her seat next to Gandalf proved to be more difficult than she originally thought. Aragorn sat across from her, friendly smile still held firmly in place, which in return earned him a bright smile. It was a different set of piercing orbs sitting somewhere to her left that threatened to break her. Her trembling fingers dug into her clothed thigh, needing something to hold onto. Taking short breaths, Nimirher refused to turn her head in the direction of the ill fated elf from earlier. She could feel his eyes burning holes in the side of her head more than anyone in the entire circle. His specific male signature was uniquely him and she was drawn to it. Sighing loudly as Elrond began to address the council, Nimirher dropped her head to her quivering fingers . Her head was throbbing and lack of sleep was finally taking its toll on her. It was becoming considerably harder to concentrate on the meeting when she could feel the damn elf staring at her. She winced sharply as she felt the blunt tip of Gandalfs' elbow ramming into her ribs.
"Lady Nimirher?"
Looking up she made immediate eye contact with Elrond. A man's eyes was the gateway to his soul; something Saruman had always told her. What did the eyes around her mean? Aragorn was strong; Elrond, wise; that Gondorian man, greedy; the dwarf, amused; Frodo, afraid; Gandalf, brave; and that elf, lost. Losing herself to the idea of peace in this tortured haven would surely drive her crazy. Cursing herself for not paying attention in the middle of the testosterone zone, Nimirher met Lord Elronds' quizzical stare. "Lord Elrond?"
"Is it true that our allegiance with Saruman is no longer in existence?" She had known the reason for Gandalf asking her to join the Council, but to hear of Sarumans' betrayal again was still so fresh to her. He had been such a wise wizard, a man of many words, and he had fallen to evil so easily. Glancing between Gandalf and Elrond, Nimirher couldn't help but imagine if they could too fall victim. Their world would certainly become a place of great sorrow and pain if great beacons of hope refused to shine.
"I'm afraid so, Lord Elrond." The entire circle hissed, making her shudder involuntarily with the force. Being the bringer of such grievous news apparently didn't sit well with the men. The Gondorian men whispered furiously amongst themselves while the dwarfs continued to point jaggedly at the group of elves, who seemed to be the only silent ones.
Using his hands to demand their silence and complete attention, Elrond looked upon the group of individuals gathered. Their world now stood upon the edge of a blade and difficult decisions had to be made. "Strangers from distant lands, friends of old. You have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate-this one doom," Elrond gestured towards the empty pedestal before them, "Bring forth the ring, Frodo."
Nimirher looked to her right where Frodo was seated. Sweat collectively sat upon his furrowed brow. The poor hobbit was suffering greatly. She knew what lied within his coiled hand, a deceitfully beautiful monstrosity. His eyes were glazed, seeming to be fixed upon a future no other could see. Placing a gentle hand upon his elbow, she coaxed the pitiful creature forward.
She was perplexing. She was ordinary, certainly not considered someone of exceptional beauty amongst his kind. Her brown hair was untamed; waves intertwined looking windswept against her shoulders. She definitely stood taller than the annoying dwarfs but her stature was quite stout, barely reaching to his chest while she stood. Her eyes were another story though. They too were quite ordinary, being a plain brown, but there was something there. Legolas had been trying to figure out all afternoon why she affected him so. Maybe it was those eyes, so full of power and grief. There was something fateful about her; a future of immense pain emulating from her very soul. He couldn't seem to pry his gaze away from her.
Cursing inwardly, Legolas made himself look away towards the ranger across from her. He hadn't seen Aragorn around these parts in some time; seemingly odd for a man that was in love with an elf maiden. Legolas's head tilted curiously when he saw Nimirher share a brilliant smile with the ranger. 'Interesting,' thought Legolas. Aragorn didn't garner affections easily when it came to making new friends. He spent most of his days in the presence of unwashed and wanton men, when did this young girl grab his attention? He certainly found it entertaining when she dropped her head rather harshly into her palms. What grabbed Legolas's attention wasn't the share of friendly affection between her and the ranger, but the angered glare of Boromir. His gaze held nothing but hostility towards the her and that infuriated him. Legolas let slip a growl between his pierced lips, begging his inner animal to be released. A throat clearing across from him brought Legolas back to reality. Aragorn was staring at him, bewildered. God he was losing his mind. He dropped his gaze, refusing to make eye contact with the one man that could decipher every lie leaving his lips.
"Nimirher?" Now that drew his attention back to the mysterious girl. So he finally had a name to label her. Her head was still being cradled within her trembling palms, possibly holding together an aching head. She seemed so young to him, too young to realize the emotions that continued to stir his soul. How would she react if she knew she could stop his heart with a stare? Holding his breath, Legloas waited for the one thing he had been longing to hear. Her voice.
"Is it true for us to assume that our allegiance with Saruman is no longer in existence?" Now that was interesting as well. How could such a young girl know of these issues? She definitely kept adding character to the personality he was trying to put together in his head. He could imagine the innocent girl before him hiding behind her brown locks if he made any advancements towards her. Her melodic voice, holding her vulnerability, being swept away by strong winds. Her hands would twist amongst themselves if she were to make a difficult decision. Legolas chuckled to himself. Why would he feel such curiosity for a creature like her? She seemed so fragile and young, someone not suited for an elf like him. He had lived for many years, seeing wars and peace, two variables her undeveloped eyes had not seen.
"I'm afraid so, Lord Elrond." Legolas groaned inwardly, causing his companions to glare in his direction. Waving his hand to dismiss their stares, he took a deep meditating breath to calm down. He had been wrong to assume such innocent qualities in her. Her voice held pain, suffering, unspeakable notions left to the imaginations of the others around her. Sitting in such close proximity to her made him blind. Every enunciated word that had left her lips, left him falling, sending shivers down his spine. Vulnerable? Possibly, but weak? He hadn't even been close. Power seemed to crawl lazily across her limbs, licking imaginary possibilities in her eyes. Her eyes held him prisoner, her soul sought his, and her body begged for everything that he was. She would be the death of him before this was over.
"Bring forth the ring, Frodo." Legolas paused the inner battle with his sanity to watch the fragile hobbit approach the pedestal. Setting the tiny ring down, Frodo sighed with relief before taking his seat next Nimirher once again.
An ancient evil swirled lazily within the golden core. Thunder seemed to roll towards them, telling dark tales of an old age. An old age that was upon them once again. "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 at hand. Isildur's Bane is found."
Boromir took calculated steps towards the pedestal, his hand outstretched to touch the cool surface. His fingers twitched rhythmically with the chanting chorus of an old tongue. Legolas gripped his chair, trying to hold on to humanity as the ring burned maliciously. Nothing good would come from this.
"Boromir!" Elrond leapt quickly from his chair preparing to stop the man from reaching his prize but he hesitated. The power of the ring called to the strong elf lord. The rash decision to frighten the Gondor lord fell upon Gandalf. The tall wizard stood tall, shadowing all in his wake, muttering the dark words of our failing lands.
"Never before has any voice uttered the words of that tongue here in Imladris!" spoke Elrond. His words not as strong as they could be, his muscles still quivering with the effect of refusing the ring.
"I do ask your pardon, Master Elrond, for the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be hear d in every corner of the West. The Ring is altogether Evil!" Gandalf took staggered steps back into his seat, seeming to have scared the young Gondor man for now. Nimirhers' gaze was fixed upon the ailing wizard next to her, her eyes a wash of desperation. Legolas watched as she placed a gentle hand atop Gandalfs' weakened ones, comforting the tired wizard.
"It is a gift. A gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this Ring?" The elfs' stare was drawn away, a very much revived Boromir striding forward. The men of Gondor didn't seem to understand the fragility of the situation. Fractured fragments of their lives were slowly falling apart as Saurons' forces grew stronger. "Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept 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!"
"You cannot wield it! None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master." Aragorn spoke, staring down Boromir.
"And what would a ranger know of this matter?" Legolas could no longer keep his mouth shut. His soul still called for the trees of Mirkwood, called for the soil beneath his feet and wind through his hair. It was men like Boromir that had led to the continued existence of that evil and it was about time someone raised the stakes, smoking out every lie and illusion. "This is no mere ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance."
All turned to stare at the impressive height of the elf before them. Their race had remained considerably silent the entire council, deciding to be mere observers. The calm façade of Legolas threatened to spill forth if that Gondorian man didn't start showing respect.
"Aragorn? This…is Isildur's heir?" Boromir stared incredulously at Aragorn, who remained seated.
"And heir to the throne of Gondor." seethed Legolas. Having to stay calm the entire time Boromir stared down Aragorn, was becoming increasing difficult. A slight shiver down his spine let him know Nimirher was watching him. Would she be surprised by his outburst? Perhaps disgusted because he had just thrown himself out before the men?
"Havo dad, Legolas." If it had been any other man besides Aragorn giving him orders, he wouldn't have bothered to listen. Aragorn was a friend, his faithful companion and a man of power and wisdom. Sighing loudly, Legolas turned, striding back to his seat. Those mysterious brown eyes following every smooth step he took.
"Aragorn is right. We cannot use it." Gandalf braced himself forward with the weight of his staff, his eyes making contact with every face in that room. This storm wasn't even close to ending and the lightning was soon to strike. Quick decisions had to be made.
Elrond stood up from his seat, his renewed presence intimidating all. "You have only one choice. The Ring must be destroyed."
"Then what are we waiting for?!" The fat dwarf rushed forward, his axe held high, ready to strike. Deep clouds swirled deeper upon their meeting, their lungs feeling the suffocation. His axe fell heavily from it's arc, hitting its' target.
Sparks flew forth from the impact, shards of metal dropping from the sky. Nimirher lost control of her lungs, not finding an ounce of oxygen that was willing to fill her with life. Her eyes lost focus, blurring into an image of a fiery eye.
'Such a waste of power,' it whispered seductively in her ear. A brilliant fork of light sliced through the sky before her, none of the council remained. She kneeled alone surrounded by shadow and flame.
'You will be mine!' Lashing out with his dark tongue, Sauron invaded Nimirhers' body, shoving images into her weakened mind.
Her blood was boiling, hands clenched dank earth as she tried to find reality again. Sauron pushed harder, shoving Legolas upon her subconscious. His body lay twisted and mangled beneath her feet, maniacal laughter escaping her lips in victory.
Throwing herself up, she pressed her hands tight against her ears and screamed. Screamed for the suppression of Saurons' fury, screamed for the broken body of Legolas, screamed for someone to save her.
Gandalf had tried to awaken the shuddering girl as she convulsed in her chair. Her eyes wide, bleeding completely black, leaving no trace of the girl they had seen earlier in her wake. "Nimirher!" The old wizards attempts grew feeble as she continued to mumble the jumbled speech of Mordor.
Lightning suddenly forked through their dark sky as her body flung forward. Legolas rushed forward catching her briefly before he was forced to set her back down upon the earth. His hands stinging with the siring pain of her heated skin. Her crouched body held stiff to the ground, her head bowed while flame crawled aggressively across her limbs.
"Nimirher!" Gandalf shouted yet again, rushing to her side. Legolas still stood feet from her, transfixed upon the burning girl still muttering the Black Speech. Gandalf seemed to be the only one able to stand the heat from her fire, his hands tight against her temple as he chanted.
Her flame grew higher with each word falling from her lips, threatening to destroy the woods around them. Silence fell suddenly, shrouding all in deep shadows. It was then that Nimirher threw her head back and screamed. Screamed with everything in her, pushing Gandalf back from the sheer force.
Legolas yet again rushed forward to help her. Her lips slammed shut, breaking the spell that had fallen upon all of them, falling forward into his arms, unconscious.