The Waves Of Dol Amroth

by bowmaiden

When Luna was five years old, she almost drowned in Lake Michigan. Or so she thought. When her life was saved, she awoke in the seafaring country Dol Amroth. Completely alone, Luna was adopted by a couple who served the royal house. Now a young woman, Luna will follow in her father's footsteps as a stable master and her mother's as a healer. 10th walker.

14. In Which Council is Held

Chapter 14: In Which Council is Held

"Come with me," Mithrandir said, gesturing her out the door. "Your journey has been long and hard since you last left Imladris. No doubt you wish for food and bed."

"Not until I see Boromir," she insisted.

"Lord Boromir waits for you in the Hall of Fire. Let us fetch you some food from the kitchens and I will take you there."

She nodded and walked with him toward the stairs that led to the kitchens of Elrond's House. "How did you know I hail from Dol Amroth?" she asked.

"You are Luna, Daughter of Callum, are you not?" he asked. "Faramir spoke of you when I last visited Minas Tirith."

"He did?"

"Yes. And Eomer too, when I was dismissed from Theoden's Hall in Rohan. You have some friends in high places, it would seem."

"You know Eomer?" she asked, stopping in her tracks, all thought of food and rest gone from her mind.

"Aye, he is a stout fellow. Quite like his grandfather, Thengel. Yes, he does remind me of him."

"And he spoke of me to you?"

"Not much, I am afraid. My time in Rohan was cut incredibly short. It would seem I am not welcome in the Horse-realm at this time. A fact we share in common, as I understand it."

"I am afraid so."

"Eomer simply said men loyal to him in the border patrol had seen you and knew you made for the Gap of Rohan. His men warned you not to pass and you went around the borders of the Riddermark instead. He knew I also made for the north and he wished me to bid you good will and safety, if our paths were to cross. And thus, I bid it to you, my dear."

Luna nodded in thanks, continuing towards the Hall of Fire. "Will Frodo be alright?"

"I think by your skills and those of Lord Elrond, he is certain to recover. Were you with him when he was stabbed?"

Luna shook her head. "We met days after. He traveled with a party of three more Hobbits and a Man. Strider, he called himself."

"Aye, it was I who sent Strider their way. I was to meet Frodo and guide him here, but my time in Rohan and…other places delayed my path. I am glad they are able to make it here safely behind Frodo, no doubt in thanks to your help."

They had reached the kitchens and it was busier than Luna had expected. Servants were bustling all around, preparing more food than Luna had seen in a long time. "What's going on?"

"There is to be a feast. Frodo's coming, as well as other travelers to Rivendell, warrants a celebratory gathering."

Luna knew Frodo, for whatever reason or another, was important. He carried the One Ring, after all, though how a little Hobbit came to possess such a wonder, she couldn't fathom. It was hard enough for her mind to comprehend that the Ring had been within a mear reach of her grasp. Her mind began to drift as a plate of food was placed in front of her and she wondered what would have happened if she had taken the Ring from the Hobbit. What could the Ring do? Surely great things, powerful things. Luna mindlessly brought a grape to her mouth, but she did not taste it. She had never craved power. She grew up seeing its burden on Lothiriel and her family. But perhaps the Ring held a different kind of power. Power that could make her stronger than Lothiriel, stronger than Denathor…

"Luna!" Mithrandir said, bringing her out of her trance. "Has your mind wandered so far in so short a time that you did not hear me?"

"Apologies," Luna muttered. "I suppose I am more travel worn than I thought."

He grunted shortly, and Luna wondered if he believed her. If he was supposed to be Frodo's guide to Rivendell, surely he knew what Frodo carried. "And after the celebrations, Lord Elrond has planned a meeting. A council of sorts three days from now. He has insisted you and Boromir attend."

"Surely he just meant Lord Boromir, not me as well. I am just here to aid him. This great council meeting seems quite above my station."

"My dear, you are one reason Frodo has arrived here safely. No doubt you provided aid to Boromir as well that has earned you great honor. Boromir has come to Rivendell for answers. You have earned the right to those answers as well, I would daresay. Now, as I've said, Boromir waits for you in the Hall of Fire. Rather impatiently, I might add."

The thought of Boromir brought a comfort to her mind that thoughts of the Ring had made uneasy and with no hesitation, she lifted her plate and followed Gandalf to the Hall of Fire.

Its warm glow as they entered gave Luna that calm feeling it always did when she came here. And calmer still she grew as her eyes met Boromir's. He seemed to sprint across the room, grasping at her shoulders as soon as he reached her. She nearly dropped her food. "I thought I would yell at you when I saw you," he said in a low voice.

"What's stopping you?"

"The fact that you are safe. And the fact that you were right. The twins told me of your bravery. They say you saved a life out there."

"I only helped. Many friends helped save his life, not just me."

"Do not discredit yourself or I might just have to yell at you." He turned to Gandalf and bowed his head slightly. "Thank you for bringing her to me, Gandalf."

"Of course," the Wizard said, tipping his hat. "And with that, I must be off. I will see you both tomorrow, at the feast."

As he left, Luna made for a bench near a warm brazier. "I do owe you an apology," she said. "I failed to keep my promise to you."

Boromir shook his head. "Speak not of that now. You kept the most important promise. You are safe and that is all that matters."

"I should have called for your aid," Luna muttered, pulling out the small whistle he had carved for her, all those months ago. "When we were near the border, Bilbo's nephew started to fade. I screamed for help, but I should have used this."

"You did what was best in the moment."

"How are you not angry at all with me? I thought I would have to come here with my defenses raised."

"I am just… glad to have you back."

"The stoic Lord Boromir is glad?" she teased.

He grinned. "There is little to be upset about. We will attend this feast tomorrow evening. After, there is to be a gathering-a Council, Elrond called it."

"Yes, Gandalf has told me we are both to attend. What council do you think it would provide?"

"I know not, but I suppose I will finally get answers to my shared dream with Faramir. No doubt the Hobbit you rescued is meant to play a part. When Glorfindel arrived this morning with news of your return and the Hobbit's arrival, the feast preparations began. And there have been arrivals these last few days to Rivendell."

"Arrivals?"

"Elves foreign to this country. Some arrived solo, some in parties carrying their banners. And a party of Dwarves is set to arrive tonight."

"Dwarves, really? I was under the impression they seldom left their caves."

"They hardly ever do. The King Under the Mountain, Dain II, sent them here. Their emissary arrived a day after you left with news of their upcoming arrival. I cannot fathom what might be at play here, but surely if Elves, Dwarves, and Men are all gathering in council, then perhaps it will signal a change in the tides of this war."

Luna could not help but feel excited. The free peoples of Middle-earth all gathering for one purpose. She could not think of another moment this had happened before, certainly not in her lifetime. But, as excited as she was, her mind began to cloud with the tiredness that had been threatening to overcome her. And, as she sat with Boromir, her eyes began to droop. She had a brief memory of Boromir pulling her into his arms before her mind entered a dreamless, deep sleep.

---

It had been since before the outbreak of the war that Luna had been to a feast. With Gondor's rationing and battle, Luna last had reason to celebrate Yule, nearly three years ago. And while Dol Amroth's feasts and balls were grand, Rivendell's was of a completely different caliber. Upon a gleaming dias sat Lord Elrond and her eyes were drawn there first as she entered his house's Great Hall. He smiled down at his guests, of which there were so many, the Hall seemed near bursting, yet she did not feel at all stifled. She moved easily around the room as her eyes met Lord Glorfindel's, who sat to Elrond's left side. He lifted his goblet to her and took a deep drink. She gave a small bow of appreciation in return, noticing Gandalf the Grey, on Elrond's right, watching their exchange. Glorfindel had returned to Rivendell one day later than Luna and Frodo, with the rest of the Hobbit's companions safely in tow. Most important to Luna, he had kept his promise to return Pepper to her unharmed and for that, she was forever grateful.

Towards the center of the dias, she noticed, beneath a woven canopy, Elladan and Elrohir seated on either side of a breathtakingly beautiful She-elf. So close was she in features to the twins and Elrond as well, Luna had to guess that they were related. It was with this Elf, Luna's eyes next met. The female bowed her head deep once she noticed Luna watching her and Luna knew not what to make of the gesture from the beautiful stranger, but she reciprocated nonetheless.

The four Hobbits were all huddled together at one table near the dias. Their attention had been grabbed by a richly dressed Dwarf with auburn hair and beard and they were feasting upon the food as if they had never before seen a proper meal. Rich food that Luna, once again, only saw on those rare occasions she had been allowed to attend a Dol Amroth ball. Her hand drifted to a honeycake tray that passed by her carried by one of the housekeepers. She sank her teeth into its sticky center. It was not quite as good as the recipe from Rohan, she had to admit, but it brought warmth to her core, all the same.

"Mistress Luna!" She heard her name called from the Hobbit table. It was Pippin, waving at her. She smiled and approached the table, popping the last of the cake in her mouth. "Allow us to welcome Frodo's savior," he said, standing from the table and giving her a deep bow, his little body even shorter once he jumped from the high stool he sat upon.

"There will be none of that," she said, gently reaching down and pulling him back up. "I am no savior, just an aid to your cause, whatever that might be." She did not mention that she knew of the Ring, though she could have sworn Frodo's hand had just been in his pocket, fiddling with something there.

"No, certainly not," Frodo said. "No praise need be given to the maiden who outran the Black Riders and surely saved my life." he grinned as she smiled at his words. "If it is praise you reject, perhaps you will accept my gratitude instead?"

"Of course, Master Baggins."

"Might you sit down?" Merry asked, gesturing to the empty spot beside him.

She sat as Frodo's eyes followed her. "Introductions!" he said, gesturing towards the Dwarf. "This is Gloin, of the Lonely Mountains."

"From Master Bilbo's stories?" she asked.

"Aye, the very same," said the Dwarf. "And this is my son, Gimli." he gestured to the Dwarf beside him, who had been eating with the same vigor as the Hobbits. His beard, identical to his father's, was littered with crumbs as he bowed his head in her direction.

She listened intently as Gloin and Frodo discussed Bilbo and the journey he took with the Dwarves all those years ago until a new sight caught her eye.

Boromir had wandered into the hall, dressed in a manner she had never witnessed on him. He wore a smart, leather tunic over a red velvet shirt. She had only seen him in the clothes he traveled here with or his armor from the battlefield. He was clean shaven as well, for the first time since she had known him. She found herself noticing every curve, every angle of his bare face as he inched slowly into the Hall. Without his beard, he seemed softer, more approachable. Handsome, too, certainly, but she would have been lying to herself if this was the first time she had noticed that. And when he noticed her staring, she immediately turned her eyes to the floor, embarrassed. She did her best to return her focus to Gloin's stories, but her attempt did not last long.

"You look positively bored," Boromir whispered in her ear. He was leaning down from behind to reach her and she felt his hair tickle her cheek.

"Whose acquaintance do I have the pleasure of meeting now?" Frodo asked, looking up at Boromir.

Bomomir gestured for Luna to introduce them. "This is Lord Boromir, Son of Denathor of Gondor. My lord, this is Master Frodo Baggins of the Shire."

"Ah, Master Bilbo's nephew," Boromir said, bending down to extend a hand to the Hobbit. "Your uncle has been entertaining us since our arrival in Rivendell."

"Do you know where I might find him, perhaps?" Frodo asked.

"Not for certain, but often when I seek his company, I find him in the Hall of Fire, spinning his tales for any who will listen. Not that many of the Elves do, hence the time Mistress Luna and I have been spending with him. Until most recently, I believe we were the only three beings not of Elf-kind in Rivendell. It is nice to see more…aged faces, if you do not take offense, Master Hobbit."

Merry let out a chuckle. "Well Lord Boromir, why would we take offense to that?" He slammed his tankard onto the table. "Elves, you know. Strange folk, I must admit."

"But great hosts," Sam interjected. "I haven't felt this at peace since we left the Shire. No doubt I won't find it again until I'm back under my Old Gaffer's roof."

Luna continued to introduce the other three Hobbits to Boromir, who seemed to enjoy their presence. He chuckled at all of their jokes, of which there were many and even offered Merry and Pippin sparring sessions in Rivendell's barracks, for the Hobbits all carried swords (swords so small, they were nearly daggers) but hardly knew how to wield them.

Luna's mind drifted as the conversation continued. Her eyes wandered around the Hall, taking in the guests that had arrived. There was a party of Elves towards the west end of the Hall, all sitting at the same table, dressed in identical cloaks she had never seen before. She herself had been lent a dress by one of the Elven housekeepers, who had brought it to her that mid-day. A dress of gray silk whose quality she had never known. Even Lothiriel back home would have gone weak at the knees for a dress this fine.

With the thought of Lothiriel entering her mind, she grew somber. It had been a long time since she allowed thoughts of her best friend to enter her mind. Lothiriel would love it here, the trees and the mystique of it all. Long had Imrahil's ancestors claimed to have Elven blood in them and the family had always been taught the Sindarin language. Luna often wondered if that was true, or simply a legend of old. What was Lothiriel doing now, she wondered. Perhaps going over granary inventory with Ulfion, Dol Amroth's librarian, who had become a political advisor to Lothiriel while her father and brothers braved the corsairs at sea or small battles on the road to Minas Tirith. Maybe Callum was in her study, giving reports on the training and breeding of Dol Amroth's cavalry units. The thought of Lothiriel spending time with her father brought a nasty jealous feeling to Luna, and she shook her head, casting the thoughts aside.

"You look positively bored," Boromir whispered in her ear, bringing her back to reality.

"Only slightly," she whispered back. "I'm afraid I'm rather out of place here."

He stood and offered her his arm, which she accepted, and led her out of the Great Hall, giving the Hobbits a wave goodbye as they parted. He was walking, but not in seemingly any particular direction. "Where are you taking me?" she asked.

"I didn't really have a destination in mind, except out of the Hall. Is there anywhere you want to go?"

"The stables, perhaps?" she asked. Since Pepper had been returned, she hadn't spent nearly enough time with her steed.

"The stables it is," Boromir agreed, turning south in its direction. "The Hobbits seem like fine fellows."

"Indeed. I'm glad to have met them."

"Has this been the adventure you hoped for? Not just meeting the Hobbits in the wilds, but the whole of it…our time together out there?"

"I was not looking for adventure when Faramir told me of this journey," she admitted. "I wasn't looking for anything, really. Apart from returning to Dol Amroth and seeing my father again, I had very little to desire. Especially when so many others were losing so much. Sons, brothers, and husbands…"

"You didn't answer my question."

She grinned. "I suppose…no. No it hasn't been what I thought it would be."

"Have I disappointed you?"

"On the contrary. When we took off from Minas Tirith, you hardly said two words to me. I only knew of you what Faramir had told me and what I could assume based on our limited interactions in the city. I assumed we would detest each other. That the journey would be long and mostly silent. I didn't think we would…bond, I suppose"

"Luna…" he said slowly. "You know we have done more than simply 'bond'. At least, for me, I feel bonded to you in a way I have not experienced with anyone before." he paused, waiting for her to respond. She found it difficult, for her stomach had begun to twist and knot in an unexpected way. She looked around for another person, but they were alone, just the two of them. There was no one to rescue her from this conversation she knew in her heart was coming. Their time in Rivendell was drawing to a close and the weight of this conversation would be a burden if they left it for the journey back to Gondor.

"Your silence brings shadows of doubt to my mind," he said, bringing himself in front of her, his gray eyes staring straight into her's. "Is it the horsemaster? The Rohir that has already claimed you? Is that why you do not speak?"

"Claimed me?" she said. "How infantile. Is that what you think of me? Is that what you intend to accomplish with this conversation? Do you wish to claim me, Boromir? Possess me like a toy or a pet?"

"I did not mean to offend you, my lady." With those words, she took a step back. He was addressing her as his equal. In their months of travel together, he had allowed her to drop his titles, bringing him down to her station. Now, he raised her up to his. Her father's words from long ago echoed in her mind. Do not forget your place.

"Boromir, we cannot talk of this now. Not here, leagues and leagues from home in a world that has sheltered us from the reality we left behind."

He sighed and bowed his head. "This is not what you deserve, I see that now. To make any declarations in these times of uncertainty is a fool's declaration. I apologize."

She smiled and gave a small nod of acceptance. "I will say only one thing more. I told you weeks ago that my heart was free. I did not lie to you, Boromir."

At that, he gave a small smile and offered back his arm. "Come, Pepper will be waiting for you. And I've found out where the stablehands keep their carrots."

---

The next morning, a bell rang out, its tone clear and bright. Luna stood from her chair and stretched, setting her book down on its cushions. This bell was signaling the start of the meeting. The Council of Elrond, it was being called throughout Rivendell's whispers.

She made her way to Elrond's house and all around her, birds were singing. The morning sunlight was warm and pleasant. Nothing around her gave notion of the news this meeting would bring to its attendees. How after, the sense of dread that had so far kept itself to the backs of everyone's minds, would soon consume their every waking thought.

At the council chambers, tall, elegant chairs had been positioned in groups, but spread apart so that the attendees could see one another easily. In them sat numerous faces, most of whom Luna at least recognized, even if she did not know their name. And every face in the room held a somber look. As if great dread were about them.

Elrond sat in the highest chair that allowed him to look over the rest. He nodded at her when she entered and motioned to a chair in his opposite direction, with another beside it, where Boromir sat, waiting for her. Glorfindel was, of course, seated nearest Elrond, amongst other members of Elrond's house. The next closest group was the party of Elves she had noticed from the feast, all still clad in identical green and brown cloaks. She noticed that one amongst them was seated in the center of their group, and he held his head higher than the rest. He was handsome, as all Elves were in their own unearthly way. He had hair not quite as long as hers had grown, but nearly identical in color and Luna suddenly was aware of why the people of Dol Amroth had always compared her to an Elf. She fiddled with her hair, which she had left down and her hand drifted to her ears, subconsciously making certain, and not for the first time in her life, that they weren't pointed. Alas, they were round and human, solving nothing of the mystery of her origins yet again.

The party of Lonely Mountain Dwarves were the loudest of the bunch, chatting amongst themselves. Gimli, the son of their leader whom she had met last night, looked the most forewarned of their group. His eyes were circling around the room, squinting cautiously whenever they landed on the party of moss colored-clad Elves.

In a far corner of the room, without a chair, was Strider, perched against the wall. She hadn't seen him since she had left him, Merry, Pippin, and Sam in the wilds. He was drawing deeply on a pipe, its smoke surrounding him in a weary cloud.

As she sat down beside Boromir, three more figures entered the room. Frodo and Bilbo, followed by Gandalf. Almost immediately, Elrond rose and motioned to the chairs to his right. "Here, my friends," he called out to the group, grabbing their attention. "Is Frodo, Son of Drogo. Few have ever come hither through greater peril or on an errand more urgent."

As Frodo and Bilbo sat down, Elrond began to introduce the rest of the Council. Amongst his household was an Elf she did not recognize, named Galdor who had come from the Grey Havens. He named the Dwarves and singled out Gloin and Gimli. The proud Elf from the traveled party he named as Legolas, an embassary and son to Thranduil, King of the Mirkwood Elves.

"And here," Elrond continued, reaching her and her companion. "Is Luna, Daughter of Callum, invited here today for her aid in bringing Frodo to safety behind our walls. She traveled here from Gondor in the company of Boromir, Son of Denathor, who seeks counsel in the form of a dream he shared with his brother. Many weeks have passed since they both arrived, and they have been waiting patiently for answers."

Luna took one last wide look around the members of this Council and realized, for the first time, she was the only female amongst them. This suddenly made her feel small beside them, though she could not find words to explain why.

The meeting began then. Every party brought news from their little corners of Middle-earth. The Dwarves went first. Gloin explained how mysterious messengers had come to the Lonely Mountain with promises to return the Seven rings to them if they would reveal the location of Bilbo Baggins, who had been traveling Middle-earth at that time. At the mention of the Seven rings, Luna creased her brow in confusion. Boromir had only told her of one ring, the Ring. Now, these Dwarves spoke of Seven?

Elrond had been scanning the crowd as Gloin spoke, and it seemed he noticed her confusion. "This is the purpose for which you were called here, friends from distant lands. Though called not by me, but each of our own purposes. And, it is so ordered that we, who sit here, and none others, must find counsel for the peril of the world. Now, therefore, things shall be openly spoken that have been hidden from all but a few until this day. And first, so that all may understand, what is the peril, the Tale of the Ring shall be told from the beginning even to this present. And I will begin that tale, though others shall end it."

And the Elf-lord launched into a tale. A tale more captivating than even Bilbo could manage in the Hall of Fire. He spoke of Sauron and the Rings of Power that had been forged in the second age by an Elf named Celebrimbor. Three rings were given to the Elves, each guarded by a chosen Elf of high power to this day and were the only that remained accounted for and uncorrupted. Seven, to the Dwarves, which were now lost, many to the consumption of Dragons long gone. Nine were given to Men, who were eventually consumed by the power they could not control. A power forged through the One Ring Sauron made himself. A Ring that could never be unmade. A Ring to Rule Them All.

He then spoke of Numenor, the ancient fallen city of Men. The king borne of them, Elendil, and his heir, Isildur. Of the Last Alliance of Elves and Men, forged by Elendil and Gil-galad, an Elf-king of old. Together, they fought Sauron and his evil, destroying him for what they believed to be the last time. How, at the fall of his father, Isildur cut the One Ring from Sauron's hand, ending the years of torment and war. He spoke these tales from memory, for Elrond's eyes had seen many ages of Middle-earth.

Luna, try as she might, could not pick her jaw up from the floor. Stunned at the sheer truth and veracity of his words, she could not get her thoughts together. Ever since Boromir told her of the Ring on the road, she could not fathom this. Even as she had looked upon it on the road with Frodo, she could not comprehend the state of the world now. Even knowing that Frodo held the Ring now, amongst them, she could not understand what they, mere Dwarves, Elves, and Men were supposed to do with it. How she, a horsemaster's daughter, was to help make that decision, here and now, amongst Lords and Princes.

"But this is tidings!" Boromir said, bringing her out from her state. "I had always thought the Ring to have been lost with Sauron's defeat. Alas, Isildur kept it!"

"I would not call it 'tidings', Lord Boromir," Elrond said, finishing his part of the story. He had tried to persuade Isildur to cast it into the fires of Mount Doom, where it had been forged. But Isildur did not. He kept it for himself. Sauron was diminished, but not destroyed. His Ring lost, but not unmade. Yet, in his diminished state, the world flourished without Sauron's hold. Most of all, Gondor. With this part of the tale, Luna was familiar. The rise of Minas Tirith from Minas Anor. Isildur's death, and loss of the Ring's whereabouts. She remembered what Boromir had told her. The Ring had betrayed Isildur. She thought of the hold the Ring had brought over her on the road. How she would have ended Frodo then and there for the Ring, if she thought she would have a chance against the Nazgul. And she finally understood.

Boromir stood up then. "Give me leave, Lord Elrond," and he began to describe the horrors of war that had plagued Gondor these last few years. The strength that now came from Mordor and invaded his lands, her lands. The fall of Osgiliath that only he and three others had survived. He and Faramir, who, that night, shared a dream. He recounted the dream to the Council, to which he earned many surprised looks, but only one person stood to confer with him.

Strider walked over from his perch, pulling out a blade that was in two pieces. "Here is the Sword that was Broken. Here is the relic you seek."

"And who are you?" Boromir asked him. "What business do you have with Minas Tirith?"

"He is Aragorn, Son of Arathorn," Elrond said. "And he is descended through many fathers from Isildur."

As far fetched as the tales she had been told that day so far, this was the one she could not believe. Isildur, the last king of Gondor, who was thought to have no heir, now presented one before her. This man was not Strider after all. He was her country's king.

"Then it belongs to you, and not to me at all!" Frodo cried, standing with his hand in his pocket.

"It does not belong to either of us, but it has been ordained that you should hold onto it for a while," Aragorn said.

"Bring forth the Ring, Frodo," Gandalf said with his eyes closed. "The time has come. Hold it up and Boromir will understand the remainder of his riddle."

Seemingly reluctant, Frodo pulled his hand from his pocket and held up the Ring. The evil thoughts that plagued Luna's mind back in the wilds did not haunt her now, but instead, at the sight of the band, her attention was on Boromir in an instant. His eyes surveyed the Ring intently. He continued his argument with Aragorn, but his eyes never left the golden circle. She wondered, if vile thoughts had intruded on her mind, what effect the Ring could have on Boromir. A man who, unlike her, knew great violence. Had taken life on the battlefield. But as she wondered these things and Boromir's argument with Aragorn drew in Bilbo, jumping to Aragorn's defense, Boromir asked, "How do the Wise know that this ring is his? And how has it passed down the years, until it is brought hither by so strange a messenger?"

At that, Elrond prompted Bilbo, who began a tale unknown to Luna, as it was one he had never shared with her. A chapter in his story of his time with the Dwarves, where he entered a cave and met a sullen creature who had been branded the name Gollum that mimicked the sounds he made in the dark. In a battle of wits, the two fought for the Ring, and Bilbo was the winner, taking the Ring from the creature for himself. Until, eventually, he passed the Ring to his nephew, Frodo, who took over the tale and recounted his journey to Rivendell with the Ring in tow, ending with Luna's rescue of him, bringing her to the attention of the Council yet again and she shifted in her seat, trying to make herself as small as possible.

"Yes, it has made quite a long tale, but the story still does not seem complete to me. I still want to know a good deal, especially about Gandalf."

Gandalf then recounted his whereabouts since Frodo had inherited the Ring eleven years ago. Of this, Luna found little to note with her limited knowledge of the world outside of Gondor. One name Gandalf brought up that she did recognize was Saruman. She knew little about him other than he was a Wizard, like Gandalf, and he dwelled in Isengard, near the Gap of Rohan. But Gandalf's news of Saurman's betrayal to their cause made Luna realize why everyone had always told her to avoid the Gap of Rohan. She didn't need to be anywhere near Saruman. Gandalf also spoke, with help from Aragorn, of their recent capture of the creature Gollum. He was imprisoned in Mirkwood by Legolas's kin, however, when they had finished their account, Legolas offered grave news. Gollum had escaped capture in Mirkwood and now roamed freely through the lands of Middle-earth.

This seemed to be the end of everyone's tales. After a digestive lull in the room, Gandalf spoke again. "Well, the tale is now told, from first to last. Here we all are, and here is the Ring. But we have not come any nearer to our purpose. What shall we do with it?"

There was a suggestion to send it to a figure Frodo and the other Hobbits had met on their journey to Rivendell named Bombabil, but Gandalf dismissed it, saying he would most likely lose it. No one could think of another being in Middle-earth who could bear the Ring without falling into its corruption. This left two options: send it away or destroy it. Galdor made the suggestion to send the Ring across the sea, to where the Elves diminished. There it could be kept out of Sauron's grasp. But this idea was dismissed as well. Elrond insisted the Ring was the problem of Middle-earth, and in Middle-earth it needed to be dealt with. Glorfindel suggested it be thrown into the sea to be forgotten, but Gandalf said there were beings in the sea that could find and try to use it. And if the Ring was simply missing, Sauron would continue his malice and attack on their world. Without destroying the Ring, he lived on. It was concluded the only thing left to do was destroy it.

"There lies our hope, if hope it be," Elrond said. "To walk into peril, to Mordor. We must send the Ring into fire."

Silence fell again. Luna began to think about what all of this meant, not for Middle-earth, or even those Council members around her, but for her and Boromir specifically. This was it. This was the power they were ordered to bring to Minas Tirith, to place in the hands of Denathor. The great weapon he demanded she return with, ere her life be forfeit. Boromir looked at her for the first time, finally taking his eyes off the Ring. For a moment, they were unfocused and cloudy, but they started to clear as she looked into them. They shared no words between each but in silent exchange, she could tell he wouldn't easily give up on his father's orders. And she had to persuade him otherwise.

"The Men of Gondor are valiant, and they will never submit," he said, looking back at the Council. "We can bring the Ring to Gondor, use it against the enemy. Its destruction cannot be the only solution, for it has come to us in an hour of need! We can take it and go forth to victory."

"Alas, no," Elrond said. "For the Ring answers to Sauron alone and only he can wield its power. The very desire of its use corrupts the heart."

"But surely-" Boromir began, but Luna cut him off.

"Have you not been listening? You cannot bring this Doom to Gondor. It is evil. Even our men, as stout and valiant as they are, would not be aided by this Bane."

"Luna, calm yourself," he started, but she did not let him finish.

"You cannot fathom this weapon in the hands of your father, Boromir, no matter what promises he forced us to make. You know not its power, what it can do to a man."

"And you do?" Gandalf said slowly.

She let out a sigh. "This is not the first time I lay my eyes on the Ring of Power. Frodo cannot remember this, he was too far gone from the Black Breath, but the Nazgul, in pursuit of us on the Great Road, called out for it. And from atop our horse, Frodo held it above his head, as a trophy, and declared it would never fall into their possession while he was its bearer. And when I saw it, in his tiny Halfling hand, the thought intruded on my mind to take it from him, whatever means necessary. Had my life not also been in danger from the pursuit of the Nazgul, I know not what I might have done, I regret to say. All I know is that I wanted it, though the desire was not my own." She turned back to Boromir. "Do you truly believe this would be safe in your father's hands?"

"Denathor bid you both to bring the Ring to Gondor?" Gandalf asked.

"He knew not that the Bane referenced in Boromir and Faramir's shared dream was the One Ring," she explained. "Nonetheless, he ordered us to bring whatever weapon we found back with us on our return journey." Boromir's face had grown dark as she continued to speak. She looked him straight into his clouded eyes and spoke only to him now. "You cannot act as if this doesn't scare you, for I myself am terrified. You know we cannot bring this to our home. It must be destroyed, as this Council has decided."

He bowed his head then, and took a deep breath. "So be it," he muttered. "Gondor will make use of the weapons it already possesses and the prayers of its people. Mayhaps the Sword That Was Broken and the one who wields it may fight for Gondor's cause, if he really is the sinews of the Kings of Men."

"We will put it to the test, one day," Aragorn said, with a small smile.

"That leaves only one question," Elrond said. "Who among us will complete this quest to destroy the Ring?"

"Lord Elrond, you need not ask again," Bilbo said, standing and leaning on his cane. "For it was I who began this journey, and it is I who must finish it. Have I told you, my dear," he said, looking at Luna. "I've thought of an ending for my book. And he lived happily ever afterwards, to the end of his days. It is a good ending, I think and none the worse for having been used before. Alas, I fear now, I may have to change it, for it seems my journey has not yet ended. Several chapters will need to be added after this next quest."

No one laughed at the old Hobbit. They respected him too much and knew he truly believed this was his job to finish. "Dear Bilbo," Gandalf said. "To claim that you started this journey is false indeed, for it began long before you were a thought. This is not your responsibility, my friend, anymore than it is the rest of us. Continue this journey, if you wish, but as a recorder. Finish your book and be ready to write the sequel once the quest has ended."

"I have never known you to give me pleasant advice before," Bilbo chuckled, sitting back down. "But that still leaves the question of who will do it? Perhaps we need not answer that quite yet, for I am a Hobbit, and I will not miss my noon meal."

It was at that moment the noon bell rang. Yet, no one moved, even Bilbo. Everyone's heads were downturned, deep in thought. Which of them would be willing? She wondered what their reactions would be if she volunteered. She was not afraid of the journey, it was bearing the Ring she knew she would never be able to do. And for that reason, she kept herself silent.

"I will take the Ring," a small voice said, and all heads in the chamber rose to find it. It had come from Frodo, who still held the Ring in his hand. "Though I do not know the way."

With a small sigh, Elrond stepped toward the little Hobbit. "If I understand aright all that I have heard, I think that this task is appointed for you, Frodo. And that if you do not find a way, no one will. I cannot lay this burden upon you, but if you take it freely, I say your choice was right."

"But you won't send him off alone!" a voice cried from behind. Sam came running from behind a corner to Frodo's side, to the shock of all present and Luna smiled at the Halfling and admired his loyalty.

"No indeed," Elrond said. "You at least shall go with him. It is hardly possible to separate you two, even when he is summoned to a secret council meeting and you are not."

Sam made an audible gulp in his throat. "Nice pickle we've landed ourselves in, Mr. Frodo."