Chapter 10-To Be Enlightened
Elysia sat in her room. Elrond had prepared a great feast for the night; a feast in which she politely excused herself from, despite the inviting thought of good food. There was too much scorn and curiosity in the Gondorian men whom attended, and she did not want to be beleaguered by the stares once again.
Especially the gaze of a certain pointy eared princeling…
She had too many things that required her mulling to enjoy the nice meal, as did all of the fellowship.
Her belongings had been packed. To her grateful surprise, the Rivendell elves had exceeded her expectations and supplied her with all new things custom made to adhere to her. Her clothes had been too tattered to mend, and she had gone through troublesome thoughts on how to replace them. She finally mustered the courage to inquire Elrond on supplying her with the nearest and the quickest tailor to sew a few simple attires out of a few choice garments she could afford and perhaps patch her boots in the process.
The hospitable elves took it a step further and provided her with a new pair of boots, thinly soled, light, and sturdy, precisely to her liking, and even went as far as repairing the ripping seams of her small rucksack. The material she had provided had been declined, and in the place of her old garments, the elves had tailored her much finer ones that she almost felt reluctant to wear for fear of ruining them.
Her stomach churned in demand, causing her to release a long forlorn sigh. Perhaps she should have snatched a few loaves of bread and a hind leg of that boar to eat in the privacy of her own room. But at the thought of encountering the princeling and the infuriating eyes, she quelled such thoughts.
So she grabbed her leather-bound book where she kept her drawings, one of the rare few things she took with her from Bag End just for sentiments sake, and headed towards her balcony in hopes of distracting herself. But a sudden a knock caught her attention, gentle knuckles rapping against the door.
Who would visit her at this hour? Frodo was enjoying food with his friends, and Bilbo was trying to spend as much time with his lad before he departed. Was it Aragorn? Or Legolas?
She mentally stomped at the preposterous—and horrifying—latter possibility.
Her unspoken question was answered by a gentle voice. "It is Lady Arwen…"
Relief quickened Elysia's walk to the door. Curious as to what brought the daughter of Elrond to her room, she opened the door to see the fair maiden peer a little down at her from her greater height. Opening the door wide as a silent gesture for the she-elf to enter, Elysia was surprised at the woven basket of food in her arm.
"I thought it might please you." Arwen smiled attentively. "You were not present for the dinner."
"No… I lost my appetite amongst the company of foolish men." She commented dryly. She swept the look of uncertainty from the she-elf with a flippant wave and gestured to the table in the balcony. "But now I have regained it. Your timing and entrance is most welcome, Lady Arwen."
The fair she-elf smiled sincerely at this and gratefully took the silent invitation to dine with the dragon.
/
Elysia sat with a casual air of leniency, her elbow propped on the table as she gazed at the scenery. She crossed her legs and chewed on a slab of roasted pork.
Swallowing, she cast a side glance at Arwen, who appeared to be a little lost in thought. "I hope you do not mind my lack of etiquette at the moment, Lady Arwen."
"Not at all." The lady shook her head.
"Then speak your mind, Lady elf, for there is a reason you are here is there not?" She plucked a grape from the basket. "And I am quite certain it is not because you find great joy in watching a dragon eat so crassly."
Her comment brought a light laugh from the fair she-elf. Arwen propped her own elbows on the table, her rigid posture forgotten. "Actually, I find your manner very refreshing, lady dragon."
"But that is not why you are here." Elysia stated bluntly. "What is on your mind, Arwen. I shall not ask again."
The she-elf's smile faltered and she gazed at the stars, resting her hand gracefully on her cheek. Even in her troubled musings, Arwen appeared so elegant and comely; it was almost surreal to the dragon… and a bit unfair. Rarely did she feel so cowed by such trivial things, but without the beauty of her scales to shine in this form, Elysia felt her own appearance to be… underwhelming.
"… We are immortal. We cannot grow weak with time and perish of feeble age, but sometimes I cannot help but wonder if it is a curse rather than a blessing of Eru."
Elysia blinked and plucked another grape, staring at it in mild interest. "It is a double edged sword… For being immortal, we live our lives differently than mortals and think differently than them." She tossed the fruit into her mouth.
"Why can we not live like mortals?" Arwen sighed, looking more forlorn. "Why can we not live our lives like them and think in their likeness in the limits of their youth?"
"…. This is about the raggedy ranger, is it not?" Arwen bit her lip at Elysia's straightforwardness. She then gave a small flat smile.
"He has grown fond of that title you bestowed upon him… Though he will not admit it."
"I have grown fond of the raggedy ranger, myself…" Elysia confessed before giving the elf a brief glare. "Do not expose it to him… Men, I find to be such disdainfully ignorant creatures. They are fickle and full of conceit, or so I thought. Yet Aragorn disproves much of my old sentiments. Terribly young, but he bears more honor than many ancients of my time."
Arwen glanced at her. "Aragorn young? How old are you, milady?"
Elysia smirked wistfully. "I hatched in the Second Age, around the season of Isildur's birth." She continued at the astounded look from the elf. "But we dragons mature much differently from other races… I am of age by the draconian standards, but I am still considered rather young by most of my kin…. As a matter of fact... Now that I think about it… Few are younger than I."
Hatchlings had been terribly rare amongst the dragons after the blood wars, but when eggs hatched, there was such great joy amongst the drakes that their happiness brought great fruitfulness in the lands around them.
The age of dragons seemed to be a hard thought for Arwen to swallow, but it was beyond the point. Elysia tilted her head at the she-elf and decided to be forward.
"Milady, you are not troubled by my age, but by your raggedy ranger."
Her frank statement caused Arwen to turn away and refocus her attention to the stars. "He is distancing himself from me."
"The love between an immortal and a mortal is uncommon for a reason." Elysia stated. "I suppose he fears for your death once he passes on in time?"
"… He wishes me to sale west with my people." She admitted. "To leave him before his time and live eternally."
Elysia blinked. "Ah… Well, then… Much like his kind, that ranger is rather dimwitted." She mused loudly, skimming through her sketches while she chewed on a piece of grainy bread.
The she-elf whipped her head to her so quickly, Elysia feared she might have strained a muscle on her slender neck. The dragon stopped chewing and swallowed, tilting her head and gazing at the she-elf, puzzled. Did she misunderstand? Or was Arwen insulted by her blatant statement against her lover?
"…Is he not a fool to think you would heed such demand? I believed you would stay. You have given him your heart, have you not?" She asked curiously. "I am no elf, so correct me if my assumptions are misled, but he has given his heart to you… and yours you have given to him. Is it possible to take it away once more for your kind? Do you not love deeply like that all but once?"
"Love is sacred amongst the elves, and such love as this is something I shan't feel for another." Arwen confessed somberly. "Then do you believe I should wait and not sail with my people?"
There was a pause as the dragon gazed at her with a paradox of a youth's wonder and perceptive wisdom. Then she promptly shrugged.
"I know naught." She closed her sketchbook and leaned back into her seat. "You are no fool, Lady Arwen of Rivendell… You know the price in which you must pay with each choice… If you should stay and wait, you cannot be guaranteed he will return to you in one piece with a beating heart, but if he does you shall live every year, every month, every day, every second of his life, not yours, happily in love. But eventually, that love will lead to your death. Your death will be grieved by those that love you, and that is no little number. You will never see your family again until the end of time." Arwen flinched, but she continued.
"But if you sail, you leave the ranger incomplete, for I am sure he has left a piece of him with you… You shall never see him again and live the rest of your eternal days without him."
It was the most the dragon has spoken in one sitting, and it certainly wasn't the most pleasant of things said.
Arwen's gaze hardened. "If you do not think of me as some ignorant fool, why have you thrown these thoughts back at me?" She demanded.
Elysia showed no remorse or pardon, her gaze was as steady as ever. "Because, Arwen, to think of it is very different when it is being voiced to you… is it not? I dare might say you see the consequences with more severity than before, and that you should… For your sacrifice is great."
The anger in the she-elf diminished with sorrow. "Must the sacrifice be so great for the price of love?"
"Greatest of loves shall entail the hardest of sacrifices. That is what gives it power." Elysia stated frankly. "…and if you truly believe this raggedy ranger of yours is worthy of such sacrificial fealty in love… Then…" Elysia waved her hand to finish her sentence.
Arwen smiled at her more lighthearted gesture. "Do you hold such heart for someone, Elysia? You speak as though you have"
"That is a vague question, lady elf." Elysia deadpanned, fidgeting with the leather thread of her book's binding. "Have I people I love? Yes, I can say in confidence I do, for I love the little one dearly, and I am very fond of that crack-headed wizard, despite all his grumpiness and filthy grey robes. But if you mean by a romantic love, in a sense akin to your bond with the ranger?..."
Elysia hesitated greatly. The dragon's lips pressed together into a thin, pale line as though the words secretly pained her.
"We do mate, but often times there are no lasting sentiments in the mating. It is not an uncommon thing for a dragon to have mated with more than one other, more for the sake of producing stronger offspring or simply for the heat of things. But despite such things, many of us yearn to seek the one our spirit deems as our heart's other half…." Her voice became soft. "That seldom happens."
While she did not provide a direct answer, the mating ideals of her kind startled Arwen, as did much of the draconic culture. "Have you… mated?"
Elysia gave her a bewildered look. "No." She scowled, shifting uncomfortably. "I never found myself wanting such ephemeral things… Perhaps I am too picky; my mother certainly was hard to please…" She muttered before continuing with a clear of her throat.
"It is so infuriatingly complicated for us dragons, even we find it to be a beleaguering concept…" She earned a flummoxed expression and sighed. "More oft than not, we find it difficult to comprehend our own ways. We can only just… know but not understand the reasoning behind the many things that occur around us. Perhaps it is our magic, or the Maia blood in our veins. But to be frank… The manner in which we dragons fall in the love you elves consider sacred and everlasting is… to say the least, it is daunting, and thus incredibly rare, but should it have fruition and success, then it is something precious and perfect."
Arwen frowned. "I… I do not understand. You speak in riddles milady. You sound as though it is a factor that denies you choice of free will."
It was difficult to thoroughly explain to the maiden without revealing too much of what Elysia wanted to keep solely for her own self's knowledge, but she tried.
"It does and yet it doesn't…" Elysia pondered for a moment before elaborating. "We do not choose here." She tapped at her head. "But… this chooses for us." She then tapped at her sternum, where her heart lied. "Sometimes, the reason for the heart's choosing is beyond our own understanding… It may seem blasphemous, for our heart is our own and yet it is capable of going against our own. It is not unlike how your mind holds logic and rhetoric that battle against the will of your heart's choice."
She chuckled humorlessly. "We call it the Astari… but it is more like a dagger against your hide…" Elysia muttered, before continuing. "As I have said, it is quite complicated… I have always envied the elven way of love. Tis much more simple… more forward."
"Do you long for such things?"
"Should I?" It wasn't a rhetorical question.
Arwen pondered for a moment before responding. "Does not everyone long for it?"
Elysia blinked. "Everyone longs to be loved, but as for falling in love…. I do not want to long for such things."
"Will you not be lonely?" It was such a strange thing, to not desire such love. But this dragon was strange to the she-elf.
"Perhaps I will, perhaps not… I do not want to dwell on it." Elysia confessed. "For it seems too troublesome. I envy the love of the elves, Lady Arwen, but I do not envy the love you bear for Aragorn. I do not envy the risk of having my heart held in hands that could break it so easily with mere words." Her words were not harsh, but they were also not kind.
"Even after all of this? Perhaps it is only in the now, when burdens are placed upon you that you think such solemn thoughts." Arwen pressed. "In the end of this quest, should hope give chance for you to live a fuller life, will you not take the chance to seek it?"
"Fuller life?"
"To marry or mate, to bear children, to be beloved and to love those you call your own by blood and bond. Do you not desire such happiness?"
It was a question that forced some silence, a question that forced her to think, and the thoughts it brought were those of melancholy.
"Arwen…" The youth diminished and in its fading light, those argent eyes looked old. "I bear little luxury of hoping for such things, and thus to desire them will leave me with nothing but grief. Should I seek a mate to bear dragonlings with, the mate must possess many qualities and suffer trials because I will never be able to fulfill the fullness of his desires… I cannot fully give myself away to another even if I wished to."
"But why?" Arwen asked. "What has made it so?"
Because it is no longer with me…because long ago, I made the foolish mistake of giving it away.
"… That is… something for another time, Lady Arwen."
Her voice was so calm, so eerily gentle, and so frustratingly vague, but Arwen had little heart to pry when she saw the distinct hollow space chiseled in the dragon's composure.
Perhaps she should change the topic to more pleasant or trivial things. She stared as Elysia began to bit into an apple.
"What goes on between you and Prince Legolas?"
Arwen's sudden inquiry caught Elysia completely off guard, so off guard in fact that her food was caught in her throat. She made a small hacking noise muffled in her mouth and began to curl over in a fit of coughs. Arwen blinked and fought the laugh bubbling up her throat. This was not what she expected when she asked jestingly.
A dragon choking on food…
And then she noticed the tip of Elysia's ears begin turning red, a fire seemed to rush up her neck and her cheeks.
A flustered dragon choking on food…
Elysia's face scrunched as she forced the large apple chunk down with a great swallow, licking her lips with a forked tongue before she grimaced.
She then turned to glare suspiciously at the highly amused she-elf. "What makes you say this?" Her voice cracked, much to her dismay.
Arwen bit her lip. She should approach this topic carefully. "I have often caught him staring at you… His gaze lingers upon your figure whenever he catches you wandering about. I have known the Prince of Mirkwood long enough to know he has not paid much attention to the opposite gender."
Ha! And when he does, they hardly ever return that attention! She thought to Tauriel and rolled her eyes, unable to prevent the sadistic satisfaction at the prince's misfortune of bearing a one sided love.
"You are being misled by what you see, Arwen." Elysia waved her hand with a scowl. "If he looks at me, it is with contempt and if anything, curiosity."
"He does not seem very contemptuous… Contempt is by far what I would not define the emotion within him when he stares at you."
"He does not stare. I have not a clue of you assumptions! You are being delusional! Perhaps your elvish eyes are deceiving you." She rattled before huffing. Now Arwen could not contain her giggle.
"You are not a very good liar, Elysia."
"Bah!" Elysia snorted. "Apparently I am not…. If you must know, I have encountered Prince Greenleaf before."
"And…?" Arwen pressed.
"He shot me with one of his infernal sharp stick throwers and I burned his hair and set fire to a portion of his father's woods…" She gritted her teeth, hoping Arwen's teasing curiosity would cease with this answer.
Silence hung between them. That was not the answer Arwen had expected…
"… Oh dear." Was the only comment she could give.
"Indeed…" Elysia mused grimly. "I am most likely on better terms with his sire than the Woodland prince."
"…. You burned a part of Mirkwood?"
"Oh for the-…" Elysia huffed. "It was not intentional!... Well… Perhaps- but that is far from the point. If anything, it was a favor to them! I burned the nests of those atrocious spiders that infest the tainted woods." She grumbled.
Arwen bit her lip as they fell into silence. Elysia began to rip off her food with more vigor.
"He wounded you?"
Elysia tilted her head and gave the she-elf a sardonic glare. "The story itself is long, it is late now, and quite frankly, it also ruins my appetite, lady Arwen."
Arwen chuckled at this but quickly sobered upon remembering that the fellowship would depart on the morn of tomorrow. Upon seeing the sudden discomfort on her features, it did not take Elysia long to figure what troubled her.
"I cannot promise you he will return… But I can promise you that I shall try to aid him." She stated.
Arwen blinked back tears and smiled at the dragon. "That is all I could ask, mellon."
/
/
Elysia's hands rested upon the sapphire pommel of Faersing, its thumb grazed the smooth surface rhythmically, feeling the occasional small bumps of the metal that kept the smooth jewel embedded. The sword was leaning towards her as she sat on her bedside, deep in thought, clothed in dark travel garments.
The elves took great care to consider her previous attire in creating her clothes, and for that she was thoroughly grateful. Her outer robes resembled a black, cowled tailcoat, with the front hem cut shorter than the back and split partially at the side seams to allow her lower half of her body to move freely. Its sleeves were short, leaving her inner tunic's flexible cloth to cover her arms which to her pleasant surprised, were tailored to fit her snuggly. No longer would she have to wrap leather and bindings around her arms to prevent loose cuffs from snagging on anything.
The boots felt snug and padded adequately to provide her ankle flexibility. After adjusting the cross lacing of the outer garment, she had twisted and turned, and discovered to her delight, that the material was as supple as it was durable. It was made to be pragmatic, minimalizing effort and weight. They even went as far as to decorate the borders of the attire with a leafing pattern of blue.
After securing the sash and belt to her waste, she sat on her bed and simply brooded.
Immediately after the verdict was made, she had sent word to the Eldest by hawk. She could only hope the verdict lied to the favor of the Alliance, but it was still uncertain. Meanwhile, she would give her services in seeing that Frodo's task was done. If all was well, the drakes would slowly rise to reinforce arms against the dark forces as the time for the final battles drew near.
If not…
Then she would remain the sole dragon in Middle Earth's aid. Her kinsmen would soon depart from the lands or commit themselves into eternal slumber.
Elysia sighed. She was taking a gamble, but it was the only option.
It was the pinnacle of her duty to see it done, regardless of the verdict made by her kin, for the fate of her people resided with the fate of the Ring, as did all others who reside in Middle Earth.
In a few hours, she must move down to the gates of Imaldris, join the fellowship and partake in another journey. Aside from the uncertainty, something did not sit well with her about this quest.
The quest for Erebor had been different, vastly different. That was a mere adventure compared to how imperative this quest was. The Eldest entrusted her with this purpose, and she entrusted a hobbit with the future of her kind.
It sounded so ludicrous.
Indeed, she was taking a rather hefty gamble.
The door opened with a click and light creak. The sound of wood thumping against the floor soon turned to a rustle of old cloth. The bedside space beside her began to compress and tilt her gravity as a cloak of grey touched her knee.
"… You are brooding." Gandalf mused.
"Astute, Mithrandir." She replied dryly.
Gandalf huffed and a moment of silence hung between them.
"…. The Ring… its power is affecting you, is it not?"
"Its power effects all who stand near it, Mithrandir."
"You know that is not what I mean." Gandalf stated.
The dragon stiffened, and her thumb stopped caressing the pommel. The wizard continued grimly.
"I fear for you, Elysia… The Ring is like poison dripping upon you, and I fear you partaking in this quest and being near its presence will be your bane. It affects you differently… Not only does it tempt you as it does to everyone, but it makes you remember."
"You cannot sway me from my oath, Ebrithil." Elysia side glared at the old Istar. "And I daresay that it is good that it makes me remember." She grimaced. "While it is not pleasant, it will restrain me. I shall not end up like the bigoted steward who already gazes upon that band of metal as Thorin did with the Arkenstone."
Gandalf chuckled at this. "… Yes… If you ponder upon it that way, it does not affect you the way it does with your kind…"
"Perhaps this was fate." Elysia shrugged.
"Perhaps… Come, Elysia… Let us head to the gathering point."
/
/
~O~O~O~O~O~
They trekked through the lands of the Deep Valley in a single fine line. Elysia remained silent and almost near invisible in the back of the line, content to remain in that aloof manner that could rival a ranger. By nightfall, they eventually made a camp in a ruin more eroded than Weathertop. They spoke amongst themselves, primarily Merry and Pippin conversed noisily while Aragorn and Legolas murmured to one another in elvish.
Ah… speaking of the elf and the ranger. It did not go unnoticed to Aragorn the way Elysia avoided nearing his friend as though he held a plague. She made it painfully subtle, so obscured that most of the fellowship did not notice. Only he and Gandalf saw; while Frodo appeared too preoccupied with his own troubled thoughts.
She was careful in making sure she was situated between the hobbits and the dwarf. It was a clever tactic, to utilize the natural animosity of dwarves and elves to her advantage. Aragorn would have been impressed if it didn't seem so trivial and unlike someone as solid as Elysia.
It would not do. Aragorn almost sighed in exasperation right then and there. This fellowship needed to… well, to be a fellowship if they were going to make progress. So far, it appeared to hold little promise. Boromir seemed to antagonize him naturally. It was inevitable Legolas and Gimli would want little to do with each other. Gandalf was reasonable, but Aragorn had the sensation the old wizard would be a bit too impatient and ill-tempered to making camaraderie out of this odd company with much needed patience the wizard did not have. The hobbits were… the hobbits.
Then there was Elysia. The dragon seemed to be adamant in remaining distant from everything and everyone aside from those she was already acquainted with. She remained sullen and silent in the back like a shadow. She was so secretive, it would make things most difficult for him but he needed her support. There was something about the dragon that made her a source of comfort for the hobbits and even for Gandalf. Perhaps it was her quiet strength.
It seemed best to Aragorn that he should start with her. Though their time spent together was little, the dragon and he shared an honest friendship. With her support, it would make forming some sort of camaraderie in this motley company a bit easier.
So when he went to gather wood, he gave her a pointed look. Elysia raised a brow but silently followed.
When they found a place with scattered, dry wood, he began to breech the topic as subtly as he could.
"You should get to know your companions, Elysia." Aragorn stated as he carried a bundle of sticks.
"I do know the companions." Elysia deadpanned, and when Aragorn gave her a look she huffed.
"Four hobbits, a raggedy ranger, Gloin's son, Thranduil's elfling, my old teacher, and the bigoted steward."
The raggedy ranger did not hide the bemused smile at her nickname for Boromir. "Do not twist my words, dragon. You know what I meant. This fellowship must learn to trust each other, for we will be together for quite some time. I think it is best if you show a little more… sociability with them as you have done with me."
Elysia stopped her gathering and gave Aragorn an even look. "… Are you lecturing a dragon older than your lover, Aragorn?"
Aragorn fought the twinge of pain jabbing his heart at the mention of Arwen and cocked a brow.
"You are older?"
"Don't change the path of our subject, Dunedain." Elysia replied sharply.
"Then hear me lecture, lady drake." Aragorn became stern once more, unwilling to relent.
"Bah, speak of this to your mellon, Aragorn, not to me. His petty blood quarrels with the dwarf will serve as an issue."
"You are also my friend, Elysia." Aragorn added. "And you are also wise and not prone to be petty."
"Do you think flattery will get you anywhere?" She flashed him a sharpened smile.
"Elysia..." Aragorn sighed. He was beginning to believe that this infuriating manner in which the drake twisted words was not a dragon thing but simply her nature. "It will take time for Legolas to see reason in building relations with Gimli. The elves are stubborn in that matter, and I am not blind to the bitterness in which Boromir regards me. The hobbits remain unquestioning in your authority, and you are Gandalf's closest companion. I cannot grow the bonds of our fellowship together by my own will, Elysia."
Elysia only gave a small grunt as she walked up to a small dead tree. Aragorn expected her to snap off the few remaining branches when she tapped the dry decaying wood. However, the dragon took a small step back and then sent a fierce kick. Aragorn's eyes widened as the dead tree was snapped from its base-thirteen inches in width—and toppled over. Then the dragon simply gripped the crack running through its middle and split the wood into smaller chunks. When she gathered an armload of the flammable material, she turned to Aragorn.
"This should be enough, yes?" She asked nonchalantly while the ranger still stared at the broken tree.
"Aragorn." He turned at her calling. "If you wish to know whether or not I shall support you, then ask me bluntly rather than waste time and breath with rambling words of bonds, trust, and disagreeable folk." She deadpanned.
When Aragorn opened his mouth, she cut him off with a raise of a hand. "I understand. I understand that this fellowship will hardly be a fellowship without each of us casting our prejudice aside, and I can promise you I will try." She scowled. "But you also have to understand… It pains me to admit such weakness, but this… it is not something I can do with ease."
Aragorn went silent. Elysia's words were sincere, void her usual dry wit, and her eyes told of uncertainty.
"… I understand… Thank you, my friend."
The dragon regarded his thanks curiously, staring at him with unknown thoughts. Once again, Aragorn felt as though his soul was being stripped by her mere gaze.
She was quiet for a moment longer. Then she spoke.
"There is a wood ant in your hair. It's disgusting."
…. Or she was simply visually picking whatever filth she deemed to be on him.
They returned and Elysia tossed the armload into the fire pit before setting herself down on a rock with a smaller chunk of wood. She pulled out a small throwing blade residing within the back leather flap of her belt and began to carve the wood in silence. Boromir and Gimli glanced oddly at Aragorn who had significantly smaller pieces of wood to add to the fire.
The dwarf finally spoke, leaning against his axe and staring at the only female member who was the most distant from the group.
"I say, Gandalf… what made you take on this woman as your apprentice?" He asked out loud. The woman did not cease her work in carving the wood; although he made it clear his question was to be heard by all.
Boromir nodded, resting his elbows on his knees as he turned to the wizard who was contently smoking his pipe.
"Why choose a she-elf, nonetheless? What powers does she possess?"
"That is because she is no she-elf, Boromir." Gandalf stated. Aragorn glanced at the wizard. Were they not taking precautions upon the nature of Elysia?
The lady also seemed startled by this. Her knife froze in chiseling the wood, and she snapped an incredulous, needle sharp glare at the wizard. Gandalf remained unperturbed.
"Then what is she? She is no Halfling nor is she any race of men. She has the ears." Boromir frowned, now confused. "Is she a sorceress of some sort?"
Gandalf shook his head. "Elysia, my dear! Perhaps it is time to enlighten these companions." He called out to the woman. "We must start acting as a fellowship after all."
Aragorn would've smiled smugly if it were in his honorable character. He was sorely tempted to, but as though she read his mind, Elysia's seething glare targeted him.
"Enlighten them, Mithrandir? Or light them?" she asked bitingly. "The requests are so alike in their sounding, but they ask for very different things. Shall I elaborate or shall I simply set them all ablaze?"
Her cheek earned her a glare from her old teacher. "Don't be clever."
"Alas, Gandalf." Elysia turned back to her carving, ignoring the questioning gazes. "I must solemnly confess my cleverness shan't fade for as long as I breathe."
When the wizard grabbed his staff, Elysia hastily continued, for secret fear of being whacked like a misbehaved hatchling in front of others. "If you see it fit, Ebrithil. I trust your judgment."
The wizard looked pleased with himself. It's been centuries, and his simple intimidation technique never diminished in its effectiveness. Dragonlings always required a more hands-on form of discipline. "Then would you be a dear and light the fire so Samwise can make us a delightful meal while we share a bit amongst ourselves?" He asked, blowing a lazy ring of smoke.
Elysia scowled and stood up from her carving. She walked up to the fire, with the knife and wood still in hand. How was she going to start a fire? She had no flint nor do they see any matches.
The woman licked her lips and tilted her head towards the pit. She then promptly spat at the wood.
The reactions of the majority were flabbergasted, not at the unladylike action—well perhaps Boromir did—but at the quality of the spit…
She spat out a tiny comet of bright blue light, and when it struck the wood it immediately ignited with a loud pop and within seconds there was a roaring flame. Frodo chuckled at her "fiery spit" and the other hobbits simply stared open mouthed.
"Bless my beard…." Gimli stared at the fire, disbelieving it to be real. Legolas simply tilted his head with a quirk of amusement on his mouth.
Boromir, however, looked disturbed.
"Did she just spit fire?"
"Thank you, Miss Elly." Sam quickly pulled out a pan and some spices.
"She just spat… out fire." Boromir whispered.
"What's the matter, bigoted steward?" Elysia tilted her head as she continued to carve. "Disturbed by my impropriety?"
Boromir glared at her insulting title to his person. "I am a steward of Gondor and I will-"
"You cannot demand respect from a dragon, Boromir." Gandalf interrupted calmly.
There was a heavy pause. Then Gimli raised his axe in defense.
"A dragon?!" He glared at the calm lady with great unease and suspicion. Boromir scoffed.
"You jest, gray wizard. Do you really expect me to be fooled that the uncouth woman is a dragon?"
Gandalf appeared mildly irked. "Does my countenance speak of jests?" He huffed.
"…. Then has the smoke addled your brain?" Boromir whispered. He glanced around, but none seemed to support his disbelief. "What madness has fevered all of you?"
"Tis no madness, steward of Gondor." Legolas sounded almost impatient. "Tis the truth."
Gimli snorted, skepticism clear on his face.
Elysia's scowl deepened, but when she caught the encouraging gaze of a certain blue eyed hobbit and the pointed glance of a ranger, she heaved a sigh. She set aside her carving, sheathed her dagger, and rolled up her sleeve. Without further hesitation, the maiden then reached into the blazing fire before any could stop her.
The flame licked her skin and embraced her hand in orange light, but to the astonishment of the dwarf and the steward, she did not shy away from the searing heat in pain. The maiden even began shuffling through the burning coal, remaining unflinching as the fire crackled and burned against her skin.
Deep from the fire's heart she pulled out a small, glowing lump of coal and held it out as a child would pull out a pretty pebble from a pond. Her hand remained unmarred, not the slightest reddened mark or sign of charred skin, but its nails were darkened with soot.
The luminosity of the coal in her palm lit her face in a haunting dim glow. Pools of silver appeared dangerous and bright in reflecting the shifting orange light of the flame. Boromir's breath hitched at the sight of her dark pupils thinning into slits.
"Fire cannot harm a dragon." Her smoky voice turned feral.
With little hesitation, Boromir unsheathed his sword. His movement evoked various reactions from the fellowship. The hobbits appeared surprised and outraged. Gandalf's countenance darkened, and Aragorn zeroed in on the sword with a wary expression. The elf, though he did not move, appeared to find it hard to compose his anger.
"What sorcery is this?! What demon have you wrought on us all, wizard?" Boromir snarled, pointing his sword at the impassive maiden.
"Are Gondorian men as deaf as they are insufferably stupid?" Elysia wondered aloud, earning her an unappreciative glare from Aragorn.
"You could do without such morbidity, Elysia." Gandalf chided rather calmly despite the obvious standoff the steward was determined to have with the dragon.
"You demanded I 'enlighten'!" Elysia held up the still burning coal. "I enlightened!"
Aragorn did not know whether he should be appalled by the pun or the situation. Perhaps both… "Boromir, lower thy sword from Lady Elysia." He demanded as gently as he could.
"Yes, please, bigoted steward." Elysia mocked, and threw the coal into the fire, causing sparks to rile from the flame in a hiss. Her stoicism began to twist into a slow growing malice. "Lower that pathetic metal piece of your feeble masculinity from my person before I force it down your throat in molten form."
She made little effort to restrain her growing anger. How dare this mortal raise a blade against her? Fellowship or no, she was not going to tolerate such conduct against her.
"If you are a dragon" Boromir spat. "Then that is all the more reason for me to raise my blade at you."
"Boromir!" Gandalf appeared ready to intervene physically. "Do not stain her honor with such disgraceful inquisition. Dragon she maybe, but she is also a lady and a cherished ally."
"Is it so disgraceful to demand answers? To be cautious of such dangers you have presented without our consent, Gandalf?" Boromir argued, sword still raised. "I shall not risk the-"
He was silenced by a great gale of wind and a rush of flaming blue light. The dwarf let out a bellowing cry as he fell back and rolled over as a powerful solid force shoved Boromir to the ground so quickly he was unable to counter. Before he could recover his fallen sword, something pinned his torso to the earth.
The dwarf reached for his axe but was stopped by the Mirkwood Prince who raised a hand in warning. Gandalf continued smoking his pipe, the hobbits looked startled, and Aragorn simply stared.
Boromir stared at the slit pupils in mithril hued pools, frozen in fear as the angular head of the blue drake cocked. A scaly hand was pressed against Boromir's chest, its ivory claws pricking him. If she were to press her fingers down she would pierce his skin and gouge out his organs like a crow's beak on carrion.
"Rather than disgraceful, Steward of Gondor, it is unwise. We dragons have a saying..." Her voice was the same, but it held a deep, demanding authority. Her tail twitched as if she were a cat with a mouse pinned under its paw. She bared her teeth, revealing sharp fangs as she hissed.
"Do not stalk your prey lest you are certain it is prey." She hissed, flicking her forked tongue. "In the essence of that wisdom, do not threaten me lest it is within your ability." She placed the slightest of pressures on her talon, hard enough to make him feel pain but not enough to draw blood.
"I…"
"Should be wise to heed the words of a dragon, bigoted steward. Our threats are not idle… They are a promise." She finished, finally relenting her hold on Boromir. The man began to sit up shakily as the sapphire drake backed away. In a swirling cloud of scales, she began to shift, and there stood Elysia, unamused with irritation evident in her steely eyes.
There was a silence amongst the men in the camp, until a dwarf spoke, surprisingly calm despite having discovered the same time as Boromir had.
"You are rather small, for a drake." Gimli commented.
Elysia rolled her eyes, relieving some of the tension. "I do not need size to flatten the bigoted steward to the earth… Now where would that lead us in this fellowship, if what is left of him is crushed like a bug with its entrails smudged on the ground?"
Boromir and the hobbits cringed at her imagery. The dragon plucked her carved wood and began to carve again, anger seeming to fade the more she carved in silence.
"And to correct your misconception, I am no spawn of Morgoth, Melkor, or Sauron…" Her voice was calmer now as she explained. "We dragons are direct descendants of Maia who took the serpentine form. The oldest dragon that lived at our beginning died in Du Fyrn Abr Domia… The War of Dominance, translated in the common tongue. The dragons recorded in the history of Middle Earth; Glaurung, Ancalagon, Smaug… and the others… You know them as wretched wyrms because they were enslaved… Morgoth was the first who succeeded in enslaving a dragon… And after he did, he did not stop."
She began to carve more intricately into the wood, lost in her thoughts. The dark sky and the light of the fire seemed to cast an aura of old sorrow around the dragon.
"… We differ in kind… Some of us love treasure… Some of us have no desire for it… Some of us breathe fire, and some do not… We are a class of many, some reside in clans while others remain alone; proud, fierce, and old… but we remain in fewer numbers than before, ever since the Shadow came and the blood wars… Those of us untainted and still free prefer to keep to themselves, now more than ever. For as long as the Ring survives and Sauron's evil grows, my race will be vulnerable, and Sauron's reign will eventually lead us to extinction." She glanced up to Frodo, no ire in her as she pointed at him.
"You, Frodo, are holding the object that will determine the survival of the dragons."
While Frodo sobered at the brutal truth, Boromir only appeared to have more questions.
"Why not fight?" He asked. "His terror will destroy all of us! Men, elves, dwarves, hobbits… Why not stand and fight if you are so mighty?"
"Because… While magic runs thick through our veins, our power is the very reason why we are vulnerable to the shadow. We cannot afford to have another Place of Sorrow." While most of the fellowship did not understand the term, the very uttering of it sent shivers down their spine. Elysia began to carve her wood with more fervor in hopes to distract her from spiraling into dark thoughts.
But Boromir almost scoffed. "So you choose to hide and simply wait?" Gandalf cast a warning glare on the steward, but it was ignored. "Because you do not wish to fight a war?"
"What am I then? A toadstool?" Elysia snapped. "Yes, we hid, we were forced to wait, but it was not solely for our own. Think, or is that far too tedious to fill your vacant mind with tactical thoughts?"
Boromir opened his mouth, but Elysia cutt him off, "The War of Dominance was more than just a war… It was… a massacre." She hissed so fiercely that Boromir fell silent. "Imagine… Should Sauron gain what is left of my race, what would be the outcome? What would be left of your city of rocks, the elven woods, even the empty plains?"
There would be nothing left. Sauron would not hesitate to let Middle Earth burn under dragon fire.
There was a maddened blaze in the dragon's eyes, but it lasted only for a heartbeat. A cool mask of indifference came in its place as she looked back down to her carving.
"We are not evil beings… We can weep, we can laugh, we can sing and dance for joy and celebration, we can bear great compassion and great annoyance." She glared at the steward, before softening. "and we can… love… deeply. We hold value in honor and loyalty…"
She then gazed at Gimli. The fellowship had begun to gather around the flame to listen to her mystified voice.
"Your father was one of few who knew what I was." She smiled wistfully. "And judging from your surprise, he kept his vow of secrecy… A very honorable dwarf, Gloin is."
"And my father." Legolas's voice suddenly said. "My adar knew, did he not?"
"…Yes, he and I met before your time." Elysia confirmed, although she gave a quizzical glance his way. His participation was sudden. She hadn't been aware he was listening.
The dragon blew on her finished carved piece, clearing the wood shavings and rotated her work. It was a wooden carving of Orthanc, and detailed rather fastidiously for quick craftsmanship. The hobbits admired the handiwork while Gandalf grimaced.
"Miserable tower." He muttered.
Elysia smirked, tossing the carving into the fire. The fellowship fell silent, content to watch the wood smolder and burn.
/
/
They travelled again and stopped at a hill of boulders and brush. Elysia went to be a lookout with the elf prince, primarily because it gave her an excuse to stay away from him. They scouted on opposite directions.
Things had eventually quieted into a strange peace in the fellowship. After Elysia's unveil, Boromir had tried to gather what remained of his dignity and fell into silence, but he did not stop casting furtive, curious glances at the dragon. Gimli was a bit bolder after the mentioning of his father and Thorin's company. He asked her questions, content to speak while she was content to hear.
Elysia paced her stride tactfully beside the dwarf in hopes it would keep the distance she sought to maintain between her and the elf. Gimli did not seem to mind. He appeared at ease at being so near a dragon that lent a generous ear. She was a good listener, perhaps the only one that took genuine consideration into hearing his opinions, replying every now and then.
"Quite frankly, I am relieved that you are a dragon." He said out of the blue.
"Really? Why is that, red beard?" She asked, amused.
Gimli huffed. "One pointy eared elf is bloody unbearable enough. I'd rather that you be a dragon than an elf."
The dragon's lips twitched into a tickled smirk, while Legolas cast the dwarf a snide glance before scouting ahead.
"I never understood why you creatures loathed each other so." She confessed after some thought. "Thorin's grudge, I can understand, but it oft reminded me of a hatchling's tantrum. It would've saved us much peril if he hadn't had such fits of distrust in companies other than his own."
"Bah, elves cannot be trusted! They are fickle with their promises."
Legolas' stride seemed to falter, as though he was sorely tempted to turn and give the dwarf a piece of his mind. But Elysia quickly intervened.
"As are dwarves when it comes to their treasure trove." She meant no offense by it, but dwarfs were offended easily.
"That is rich, coming from a creature whose love of treasure is a legendary thing!" Gimli barked.
Elysia remained unfazed. "As I have explained prior, not all drakes bear insatiable love for treasure. Though, we do hold great interest in beautiful things. Twas not in our nature to lust for such opulence… Dark magic has twisted it into such." She shrugged at this. "It can't be helped. You dwarves make stones and metal look enticingly pretty. It can become problematic to many sires and dames."
"Why is that?"
The dragon's smirk turned almost wicked. "Do you really think it is the olden dragons that steal your troves, master dwarf? Most old dragons cannot trouble themselves into such games of take-away."
Gimli became distracted by his original offense by the dawning realization, "You mean to tell me… our treasures have been stolen by children?"
"Well yes… Dragonlings are a rather enthused in their mischief, and they have a love for shiny things. But the untainted ones truly mean little harm by it."
The dwarf did not know whether he should feel upset or mollified by this information, but he decided not to dwell on it.
"I shall attempt to take that as a compliment. We dwarves are well versed in our crafts, indeed… Which do you favor the company of, dragon? A dwarf or an elf?" Gimli asked.
Their conversation had become a subtle game of question and answers. Little did both know that the others had kept an ear towards their conversation as well, genuinely curious.
Elysia pondered for a moment before responding. "There are many faults as there are many strengths in both races. My time in Thorin's company was made quite enjoyable with Fili's and Kili's presence. Of the dwarvish company, they were my fondest, although Kili did act much like a hobbit with his curiosity." She mused. "And Balin was the wisest dwarf I've ever met, while Gloin was as honorable as he was quick to draw his axe." Gimli nearly swelled with pride at the mention of his sire.
"But alas." She sighed. "Thorin was by far the most infuriatingly stubborn dwarf I've ever met." Elysia scowled, though it was in good nature. "And it is hard to understand the love you dwarves bear for caves and rocks. Tis daunting to be caged by stone where stars are unseen."
Gimli deflated. "So you prefer the elven folk then?"
"No." She deadpanned. "My patience tends to grow thin with elven folk at times… They are hospitable and kind on the surface, but they're like cut and polished gems with far too many faces. I can do without their need to be overbearingly polite even when they mean insult."
Gimli chuckled at this, pleased by Elysia's apt description of the elven folk. "Fair enough, milady."
"Alas, master Gimli, I'm afraid I tend to favor the simplicity of a hobbit's company." Elysia confessed.
Frodo smiled while Pippin turned to them. "You really can't not favor our company! We're irresistible!"
"I can do without your idiocy quite often, Pippin." Elysia retorted.
/
/
~O~O~O~O~O~
Elysia wanted to roll her eyes at the steward's swordsmanship. They made camp once more as dusk showered the horizon with purpled hues of red. Boromir had made it his daily routine to practice his skills with the blade and shield. It seemed a bit clumsy, albeit effective, but Elysia had to remind herself that men were not as supple, quick, or strong as other folk.
Still, the way he swung and thrust with the blade aimlessly into the air… Why was he putting so much force into each blow? There was only one strong strike needed to kill an opponent. No need to waste energy. He appeared to be puffing his chest a bit as well, making himself appear bigger, and prouder. An enemy was not going to be impressed by his torso's size.
It became a little game for the dragon to pinpoint the openings and weaknesses in the steward's stance. She found twenty different ways to maim or kill him within ten minutes of his swishing and swaying.
The game was beginning to bore her when she spotted something in the distance of the dim light.
/
Legolas became so attuned to their female companion; he noticed her sudden stillness immediately.
He had been hoping to seek her company, as this time she was without the dwarf's company, preoccupied with observing the steward and his exercise. Her eyes were breaking down the movements with a clinical gaze, but the steward was being foolish, having misunderstood it. The Gondorian had been putting more effort into each movement in attempts to impress the lady with his masculine might and skills. Legolas had little doubt that even the dwarf could notice it.
But then Elysia became distracted. The dragon's head faced towards the distance with a sudden jerk. With a felid air, she lowered her head and leaned forward from her perch.
When her hand shifted to her belt, Legolas was alert. Did she sense an enemy approaching? He was about to approach, readying his bow, trying to see what she saw, but the dragon leapt into a mad dash.
She zipped past the steward like an eager hare, distracting him from his sword's swing. Aragorn was also startled, he jumped for his sword prepared to fight whatever caught the dragon's sudden act.
Elysia lunged into the brush in a nose dive, out of sight.
There was a loud thud, the sound of scraping dirt.
Then there was an angry, trembling squeal that was cut off as soon as it was expressed with a sickening crack and the sound of a blade sinking into flesh.
There was the sound of more cutting. Then there was silence.
The men stared as the bush rustled and out came their female companion, haphazard strands of shorter hair loosened from her long braid, her olive cheeks flushed with excitement. She carried with her the fresh carcass of a tusked boar, its body almost as big as she, gutted and ready to be skinned and cooked.
The men could only stare.
She tossed the boar to the ground as though it weighed like a light sack of potatoes before she began to clean the blood from her curved dagger.
Aragorn quietly went to examine the carcass. The boar's head was tilted at an odd angle, and there was a clean puncture between the ribs where her dagger pierced the heart. It had been a clean, quick kill, but he could not wrap his mind around the broken neck.
"Did you mean to break its neck?"
Elysia stopped dusting off her clothes and gave him an odd glance. "How else would I have broken it?"
"With your bare hands?" Boromir appeared incredulous as he strode to the carcass and began to examine it. The neck and the hide was rough. Even in death, he could see the fibrous trails of hard muscle. The boar had been young and robust.
Gandalf however, appeared pleased. "Excellent, my dear drake. The sausages were too seasoned for my old taste."
Meanwhile, Sam glanced at his humble frying pan. "I'm going to need a bigger pan."
The men were still trying to wrap their minds around the picture of the small female snapping the boar's neck with a twist of those slender arms. Elysia gave a dry snort at their expressions and looked to Pippin for assistance, who so eagerly obliged with a simple answer.
"She's a dragon."
There were no questions or complaints as the fellowship ate roasted boar meat that night.
/
/
~O~O~O~O~O~
Pippin's blade clanked noisily as he practiced his stance and blocked Boromir's halfhearted blows. Elysia was content to scout once more in the opposite side of Legolas' range. The skies were clear and inviting, she almost sighed in longing.
Then she heard Gimli grumble next to Gandalf.
"… Gandalf, we could pass through the Mines of Moria." He suggested. "My cousin, Balin, would give us a royal welcome."
Elysia froze and turned to her old master. The Mines of Moria? Was the dwarf thick headed? Did he not know of the darkness said to dwell in those mines?
Gandalf also appeared very grim at this idea. "No, Gimli. I would not take the road through Moria unless I had no other choice."
While Eysia would like to have seen Balin, she couldn't help but agree. The birds had whispered of dark things to be festering in the mines. The dwarves had fallen silent, and no longer could the avian creatures hear the rhythmic clack of hammer on stone. Something terrible had happened.
Pippin gave a sudden yelp in pain, much to Boromir's regret. Soon the hobbits were scuffling with the men, determined to avenge their honor with yells of triumph. Aragorn seemed to have joined the fray.
She was about to turn to spectate the amusing sight, but a dark cloud and the jumbled sound of multiple faraway voices demanded her attention. Legolas was already staring at the suspicious dark mass flying against the wind.
The dragon leapt across the camp and stood by the elf's side, ignoring her general discomfort.
The other members of the fellowship were beginning to notice the odd black mass as well. With the wind against the dark miasma moving their way, Elysia's ears and Legolas's eyes could figure out enough.
"Wings." She stated as she heard the flaps and the croaky caws. "…. Black birds."
"Crebain from Dunland!" Legolas cried, and Aragorn quickly ordered the fellowship to hide. They moved quickly to extinguish the fire and hide their belongings. Elysia had no other choice but to slide under a brush with the elf and soon they were out of obvious sight.
The swarm of foul birds came, encircling their hill in a cacophony of ugly croaking caws. Elysia grimaced as she made out the swarm of words. Crebain were foul, noisy, and untrustworthy, and what's more concerning is that they never ventured this route often for fear of becoming eagle's prey.
"Did you see?"
"Where."
"They were here…"
"White wizard said to seek. We seeking, but for what."
"Suspicious. Suspicious. We saw something."
"Saw them, I did… Saw them, I did."
"Keep searching, keep looking…"
"I smell fire… I smell food…"
"Look, find… Seek, and smell…"
"Be the eyes of our master. Scan this land."
Elysia's head was beginning to ache with all the ear-abusing noise. Legolas gave her a concerned glance, noticing her obvious discomfort.
"Damned noisy birds." She hissed. "All that racket of wretched jabbering."
The Crebain circled and eventually left. The fellowship emerged from their hiding spots and Gandalf grimaced.
"Spies of Saruman."
"They saw us." Elysia stated. "The wretched white Istar is keeping watch of the south passage."
"You understand Crebain?" Legolas asked curiously.
"Unfortunately." She scowled and shook her head. "We drakes can understand all flying creatures… They make such an insufferable racket... Gives me a headache…. Never trust the blackbirds."
Gandalf cursed under his breath. Saruman had sensed their coming. The plains were too exposed to grant them safe passage on their journey, especially if the blackbirds were his eyes. They had to move to higher altitudes. Crebain could not handle the extreme temperatures of such areas.
There was only one route he could think of. "We must take the pass of Caradhras!"
Elysia stopped her muttering and whipped her head to the wizard. Gandalf met her eyes and they exchanged something in the silence of their gaze. Elysia's eyes looked strained; almost dazed. Legolas glanced back and forth at the wizard and dragon, while the others were too distracted by the sudden disturbance of their peace.
After the silent exchange, Elysia merely gave a small nod. "If that is what you think is right… We should prepare for the cold."
The hobbits were stout folk, but even they would have struggles handling the bitter cold and higher altitude of the mountains. There were wild rams in these parts, ovis, some deer, and mountain goat. It wouldn't take long for her to sniff them out and hunt a few, not only for their meat but for their fur.
She made way to start her hunt, but gentle hand grasped her arm. Legolas was searching her gaze for something as he spoke.
"There is something about the mountains that bother you." It wasn't a question, but a statement. He was not blind to the melancholy evident in the dragon's countenance.
Elysia hesitated, unsure of how to respond or react to the elf's observation. There was little time to dawdle upon it and enlighten him so she departed with a simple, vague remark.
"It is not the mountains, but what dwells within."
Moving is tedious. Anyways, read and review please! It's always a good motivator to update sooner!
-Mana