Authors Note: Due to the quick response of the kind reviewers. . . . . . ahem - Amrawo and SilverArtimis - I thought it only fair that I upload this chapter just as quickly. I hope that said reviewers enjoy it and all my other readers.
Thanks for the reviews lads, its always much appreciated! ;)
Talk to ye all soon. Ciunas
Indil had to admire Boromirs' persistence; the eldest of the Stewards sons was not one to be dismissed easily. Walking at a steady pace Indil found the distance left to cover to reach her room near on nigh unbearable with every passing minute.
Boromir, on the other hand, had no such qualms as he enjoyed the fresh winter afternoon. Despite the conversation being decidedly one sided and sporadic, he found his growing curiosity more than able to compensate for such. The lady who walked beside him was an enigma to say the least, beautiful and reticent at the same time she was obviously not what she seemed at first glance. He was not bothered in the least, why desire tiring incessant conversation when one has most intriguing company to examine?
Their steps reverberated quietly around them as they continued ever onward, one staring ahead determinedly the other consumed by his company. Elves passed the odd couple frequently, bowing their heads respectfully before moving on. Each wondered at the expressionless quality on the lady's face and the affable demeanour of the man who walked with her.
Glancing into the gardens as they passed Indil spied Gandalf, upon a stone bench, deep in thought. Though she thought she detected a slight smirk beneath his beard as they walked by she decided not to defer from her present course, less she wanted to enjoy the attention of her enthusiastic companion for the rest of the day.
"I do wonder at the ability of the Elves to keep Rivendell so protected from enemies as well as the natural seasons. In all the time I have been here there has not been a day of severe weather, everything is always pleasant."
"Elves have their ways, Lord Boromir." Replied Indil slowly.
Boromir smiled secretively at Indil, leaning to one side as they followed the corridor faithfully.
"Between us, my Lady, I find myself missing the unpredictable nature of the weather. In particular the snow drifts that usually cover Gondor in a mantle of white at this time of year."
Boromir allowed his thoughts to turn towards Gondor and those who protected it. What was Faramir doing now? Not playing in the feet deep snow plains as they had done as children he was sure. How they had loved the snow, burrowing forts in the white ice and playing out ancient battles or imagining future glory!
Indil glanced at the man who was now lost to past memories and happier times. He looked so much younger now than when in discussion with Gimli or Gandalf and more relaxed than when throwing derisive looks at Aragorn.
"Quite. The white city is a sight to behold when surrounded by snow; I always thought it looks like a lone mountain of ice on the pale plains."
Shaken from his childhood memories Boromir noted the lady's contemplative face.
"You have obviously seen the white city in the depths of winter. Tell me have you seen it in other seasons, for it is no less splendid."
Raising her eyebrow slightly at his probing question Indil answered in a whisper after some time.
"I have . . . I had the pleasure of residing in the white city for a time. When Osgiliath was still a jewel among the cities of Gondor. I remember the music, the happiness, the peace of it all. Oh . . . Boromir it was a sight to behold." She sighed wistfully.
He could not help but feel a little warmer at her use of his given name with no title or sarcasm apparent in her tone. She spoke of his homeland with such admiration that he could not help but imagine her reaction if she was asked to reside there once again.
"I wish you could have seen it." She continued oblivious to the man of Gondors' diminishing feeling at the reminder of the differences that ever separated them.
"So do I . . . so do I." he murmured.
Indil was slightly surprised at the abrupt change in Boromirs' countenance. His mouth once stretched in a smile was now set in a grim line and his brow now downcast as he stared at the floor.
Thankfully, for Indil at least, they arrived at her chambers before Boromir began to talk again. Facing the Stewards' son she considered his grave bearing and listlessness, this was not the same Boromir she had left the meeting with.
"All is not lost. The white city shall not fall; it has never failed as long as I and everyone else can remember. Do not begin to doubt it now son of Denethor. There is always hope." She soothed mistaking the reason for the young Stewards' melancholy.
Boromir appeared little comforted by her words, instead he silently handed the bag to her, bowed gracefully and turned on his heel. Indil watched Boromir ponderingly until he disappeared from view.
"All of us have our loads to bear . . . some more than others." She thought, opening the door and depositing the sack on a chair beside the balcony.
Resting on her bed Indil stared at the ceiling until she could visualise running her hand over every bump and dip. So little time to prepare the Fellowship or rather the Hobbits for their journey . . . so little time. What can be accomplished? What use will it be when they finally face what lies in wait ahead?
"I should not begin to doubt Olorin now. There is always a purpose, always a point." She mused aloud to the still room.
"Still you cannot deny the slim prospects of such a venture." Came the whisper from the darkest corners of her consciousness.
Indeed she could not. Even she had blanched at the foot of the Ash Mountains . . . started at the vacant features of the long dead among the reeds of the marshes . . . cowered at the sight of the black tower. Still, leagues from Mordor, that dark land haunted her dreams and caused a quiver of fear to shake her entire being.
Leaping from the bed Indil strode from the room swiftly, promptly ignoring the gazes and bows of respect from those she passed. Lengthening her stride Indil found herself outside Rivendell, across the bridge and surrounded by trees.
Calmed slightly by the distance she breathed deeply before settling herself in the soft grass alongside the Bruinen. Its faint mumblings and soft babbling soothed her anxious mind. The light of the sun filtered through the canopy of the erratic tree line, creating a strange broken pattern on the water and ground.
Allowing her conscious to slip away from its containment she welcomed the peaceful energy of the stream beside her, the reassuring presence of the ancient wood and the ageless earth. Careful to restrict her absorption to the immediate region, Indil turned her back on the spectre of the land of Mordor to the south.
She could not tell how long she had lingered there for time is inconsequential for nature; it allows time to change, to flow and continue around it without constantly monitoring it like men. Accepting change and adapting to it rather than fighting it futilely.
Regrouping herself and steadily drawing all the strands of her being back Indil noticed the suns position in the western half of the sky. Dinner was probably just about to begin or had begun if she was not mistaken. In spite of her fervent wish to remain beneath the trees and beside the brook Indil reluctantly got to her feet and strolled towards the bridge through the wood.
As was to be expected Rivendell was quite hushed with the absence of many who now, Indil heard, were relaxing in the great hall. Dinner seemed to be over and the party would more than likely retire to the Hall of Fire, much to the chagrin of certain Hobbits.
Indil chuckled at the thought of Merry and Pippins' exasperated looks when everybody stood to move to the Hall of Fire, they were possibly the only creatures besides dwarves who could tire of the fine music and traditions of the elves. Deciding that she did not feel hungry Indil moved in the direction of her room.
Upon reaching her chamber door a small smile graced her lips before she pushed it open.
"Gandalf, what a surprise visit! To what do I owe the pleasure?" Indil exclaimed in a wholly theatrical voice.
Gandalfs' lips quirked beneath his beard at his colleagues' entrance. Of course he had not thought he could surprise her but then one always held a glimmer of hope. Noting the humorous flash in her eyes Gandalf decided to answer in the same vein.
"Do I need a reason to visit my most esteemed associate?" he declared cocking his head to one side as he did so.
"Of course not . . . you never do," Smiled Indil softly, "I suppose you detected my absence. Why is it I can never deceive you, my friend?"
"Ahh that shall remain my secret. I happen to be quite disappointed that I failed to mask my presence from you, I did try particularly hard." Replied Gandalf, his blue eyes twinkling merrily.
Indil grinned at the Istar secretively as she moved to the chest opposite the foot of the bed. Drawing an olive coloured dress from the chest she looked ruefully at the figure upon her bed.
"Do not be troubled Olorin, though I am sure you are not! I would not have noticed your aura if I had not just returned from an exceptional period of meditation and do not forget the fact that you were only a few feet away."
Gandalf nodded appreciatively at her candid explanation, yet again Indil cut straight to the point of the matter. Tilting his head in the direction of the dress in Indils' hands Gandalf smirked.
"I see you are planning on joining this evening, I had to persuade you quite forcefully yesterday."
"Well seeing as I find you sitting on my bed in my chambers I know I have no choice but really Olorin . . . tonight I have no excuse to escape early. Would you subject me to the company of Lord Boromir for the entire evening?"
"Yes I would. He appears to be quite taken with you, my dear. I cannot deprive the boy from such superb company."
Gandalf rose steadily from the bed and opened the door. Indil stood glaring at his back before he turned and waved cheerfully, this time not masking his enjoyment at her situation.
"Shooting glances like that will not save you. I look forward to your presence Indil."
Closing the door firmly, Gandalf smiled to himself as he perceived a grumbled sentence.
"The only reason you 'forced' me to go yesterday was because I was tired and not in my right mind."
Indil nodded contently as the clicks of Gandalfs' staff faded into the gloom, she was sure he had heard her. No matter, there was no way she could avoid the Hall of Fire this evening.
Sighing passively she changed into the adequate dress before twisting her hair back into a presentable, or a somewhat tolerable, half-knot. Throwing a sorrowful peek over her shoulder Indil left the dark comfort of her chambers behind.
She met nobody on her way to the Hall of Fire so she arrived just as the last of the dinner party was entering. Fortunately the crowd was relatively cheerful and taking their time to settle down into their prospective seats. Edging into the Hall as stealthily as she could Indil spied a chair in the more shadowed side of the Hall, just beside the Hobbits. Gliding as gracefully as she could manage while trying to remain hidden behind various elves she collapsed into the chair unnoticed. Only then did she take some time to discern the members of the Fellowship among the throng of Elves, dwarves and other lords.
The Hobbits sat chatting merrily slightly in front of her to her left, while Gandalf sat quite closely to Lord Elrond at the furthest end of the Hall near to the fire on her right. Spying her form in the shadows Gandalf winked secretively in her direction to which Indil, not daring to be too obvious, dipped her head in acknowledgement. Gandalf chuckled heartily at the sight of his companion lurking in the shadows for fear of company, almost exactly what Radagast would do in such an environment.
Around Lord Elrond and Gandalf sat various elves of his house and family. Arwen Undomniel and her brothers, the Lords Elladan and Elrohir, were conversing animatedly. It had been a while since they had seen each other since Elladan and Elrohir were constantly out hunting orc and Arwen usually resided within Lothlorien in the safekeeping of her grandparents. Aragorn too was part of their party, adding his piece in here and there between glances full of love and adoration for Arwen in whose eyes shone contentment.
Opposite to them sat Prince Legolas and his company of silvan elves. Despite the informal air of the Hall they cast secretive glances about them, though with the utmost deference and respect as was possible. Indil noticed in particular the frequent glares traded between them and the group of dwarves who were positioned diagonally across from Indil. Beside them sat Boromir, as grim and inert as he had been when he had deposited her at her chamber door earlier in the evening. Every once in a while though he managed to pull his head up from its' fixed gaze on the floor to glance at the door and around the Hall in general. Shrinking further back into the shadows Indil sighed gratefully as his gaze slid over her and onto the Hobbits, who continued chatting about the Green Dragon oblivious to her.
It was apparent that Gandalf was not the only one to notice Indils' thankful air as Lord Boromir failed to distinguish her among the occupants of the Hall. Indil scanned the Hall only to find the amused faces of Prince Legolas and a couple of other elves looking in her direction while Gandalf struggled to maintain the serious façade of a learned Istar.
Silently Indil warned Prince Legolas as best as she could from her position across the Hall. Delight and understanding flickered in his cerulean eyes before he struck up a conversation with the elf next to him.
Satisfied Indil relaxed, allowing the warmth of the fire to ease her body and lull her mind into a pensive state.