Chapter 5: You Can't Argue with Fate Here

Three days passed. Nothing really much progress besides the lessons, and spars, and the more regular scouts. Fang didn't participate with the latter anymore, as she spent more time with Vanille, Arwen, or alone on her own. Legolas filled her spot, getting weary to the peaceful atmosphere of Imladris. It's not that he didn't like the peace but he was raised as a warrior as well and the prospect of getting outside and into the woods was more than welcome on occasion. Aragorn joined them as well, serving as the leader on one group of Rangers. Arwen watched them go and heard the coming silence as the horses' hooves fade away.

"There's nothing wrong in crying."

Arwen nodded at Fang and smiled sadly. "That is true. One cannot know when you will see them last… whether this farewell would not be repeated."

"Yeah…" Fang grew quiet. She turned back and started to walk away. Arwen slowly followed, glancing back for a moment at the trail before completely heading inside.

"Fang, Lady Arwen," Vanille greeted them. She bowed lightly at the Elleth then grinned at Fang. "Bilbo said he would start reciting his piece. Pippin and Merry are already there."

Fang shook her head. "I cannot believe I'm resigned once more to hearing these. It's like the Seers all over again."

Arwen laughed. "Master Bilbo is more accomplished than most mortals. His pieces would be most remembered in Imladris. It is not so bad."

Fang sighed. "Fine, but don't expect me to keep awake the whole afternoon."

Fang didn't slept through it, though she wasn't really there the whole time Bilbo was reciting.

They were having tea and cake, much as the meal for elevenses prompts. The hobbits claimed they always have one back at their home, the Shire, though Fang and Vanille weren't much surprised given with the Hobbits' appetite. Bilbo was at his fourth verse when Pippin suddenly chuckled. It was probably some inside joke since Merry was grinning as well. But Pippin was holding the teapot and about to pour some for Fang that his wobbly grip let loose unceremoniously at the woman. Fang cringed at the sudden burning sensation at her exposed thigh. Though the tea wasn't boiling hot anymore and certainly Fang experienced much more pain when she's tossed by Behemoths, her skin still protested angrily at her lack for reflex.

Everything happened so surreal. Vanille and Arwen were immediately fussing over her, Pippin apologizing furiously, and Merry and Bilbo lightly scolding at the young hobbit's clumsiness. Fang shook her head reassuringly. "I'm fine. Just a minor first degree burn, I'll live."

"I'm sure it is Lady Fang," Arwen said, frowning slightly. "But that still needs medical attention." She stood up and offered her hand. "It would greatly ease my anxiety if you would come to be checked."

"Seriously?" Fang looked at her helplessly. She stared at Vanille for any objections at Arwen's ridiculous proposal. She inwardly groaned as Vanille nodded in agreement to the Elven princess. She sighed in defeat. "All right missy. Lead the way."

Arwen took Fang alone to the infirmary and briefed the healers there on the situation. She made a little bow and told them that she'll be at Bilbo's room when they would like to see her before leaving Fang with them. Fortunately, the elves didn't so much fussed about Fang and quickly tended to her. However, they deemed her tea-soiled clothes would not do any good for her. So Fang watched in disbelief as her clothes left her to be replaced by something else.

It was one of the common dresses she saw an Elleth would put on. Vanille had a similar set, though greatly remade due to her stature. This one was not retouched, given she is as tall as any of them and had similar physique. Fang put it on and made an involuntary shudder at the new clothes hugging her body. It had been a really long while since she last wore a proper dress. Mass production wasn't common in Gran Pulse unlike her glimpse at Cocoon's supplies. Everything back at Oerba was hand stitched by tailors and seamstresses. Both she and Vanille made their own clothes. Long skirts were particularly hard to make and materials are always scarce that dresses are considered a luxury to have. Fang had only one set back and the only time she remembered wearing it was when…

Fang approached the nearby mirror and examined herself. She couldn't recognize the reflection, not without her own clothes. She smiled at the silly knowledge she kept that her image was more associated with her clothes than her face.

They soon stopped attending to her, since obviously it really just a minor burn. They told her she would get her clothes back after a few days when they finished washing it. This, Fang grew uncomfortable and insisted to wash her own clothes instead. Back at Oerba, people wash their own clothes. So the elves instructed her to head to the river by the following day for washing, giving her clothes back and bidding her a good day.

First, Fang headed back to her room. She kept her clothes safely beside the bed before leaving. She was about to head back to the company when she stopped at halfway down her path. She was at the main corridor when she paused at the man standing by the wall, examining the murals painted. Fang never saw him before. The man noticed her presence and looked completely surprised at her company.

Fang crossed her arms. "I don't believe we met." The man looked perplexed at her cocky tone. Fang stopped the urge to roll her eyes. Man, this place is as ancient as it gets. "Fine, we'll do courtesy. I'll go first. The name's Fang, you?"

The man seemed to recover his composure. He smiled in the most gentlemanlike manner. "Boromir, son of Denethor ruling Steward of Gondor. I come here to seek council from Master Elrond, not three days ago." He bowed low. "Forgive me, my lady, it is just I have not seen a fair maiden such as you. To where would you be heading?"

Fang opened her mouth to answer but was stopped as loud shouts erupted somewhere out their current halls.

"Frodo! Mister Frodo is awake!"


Vanille followed the two hobbits speeding towards the infirmary. Arwen stayed behind, keeping company the old hobbit as he chuckled in relief. "That is Frodo my lad, all right! A good sturdy hobbit, if I may say so!"

A hobbit was there, lying comfortably at one of the many beds occupying a large part of the room. Another hobbit was with him and it looked like he was the one shouting in mirth at the good news. Gandalf was with them, smiling and his eyes holding a bright twinkle. Vanille felt herself smile at the peaceful scene. Pippin and Merry were laughing. This is so much like Oerba.

"Come, come now, we must not leave introductions at the latest opportunity," Gandalf said looking at Vanille. "My dear Frodo, Masters Took and Brandybuck seem to have made a new friend and company for their tea time."

The one not lying approached Vanille and shyly bowed. "Forgive me miss, I believe I haven't introduced myself properly, being with mister Frodo and all. I don't think last time's dinner introduction was satisfactory. I never remember dinner introductions myself. I'm Samwise Gamgee at your service."

"Well met Master Samwise," Vanille smiled warmly. "I do remember you. I'm Vanille."

"Just Sam, thank you," Sam looked flustered at the high title.

Vanille approached the company closer and sat beside Frodo's bed. "It's good that you're all right now, Master Frodo. Everyone is worried about you."

"Thank you Lady Vanille," Frodo barely managed a smile.

"Just Vanille."

"Frodo."

Bells suddenly rang. Pippin cheered. "I guess it's time for luncheon. Frodo, you certainly know when to wake up on time."

Frodo laughed. "It certainly seems so. All this sleeping gives me a lot of appetite." He slowly got up, assisted heavily by Sam.

The hobbits hurried as fast as Frodo can cope outside the room, followed by Vanille and Gandalf not far behind.

"It seems that you take interests on the little people," Gandalf smiled knowingly at her.

"They reminded me of home," Vanille replied. She always finds the old wizard someone she knew long ago. He's like one of Oerba's seers who tell her favorites stories about Pulse.

"And like home, you do everything in your power to preserve it," Gandalf said. Vanille grew silent. Gandalf stopped walking and looked directly at her. He smiled sadly. "You do not need to tell me your burden." Then it looked grave. "Child, we all carry our own weight to the world. But Arda, middle-earth, might not be so different from yours."

"I…" Vanille barely whispered. Why is whenever she thinks of home it hurts? "It's gone now. No use running away," she smiled sadly at the memory. She's fed up with running and now she wasn't sure if she was running to anything nor facing anything.

"Maybe it's for the best to let go."

"Yeah… maybe…"


Boromir watched Fang walk away and head to this Frodo's chamber.

He was pretty sure he met this woman before although he can't quite place exactly when. It's certainly here in Rivendell–

Of course!

It had been a hard journey. Travelling on foot on some elven place is hard business, already naturally hidden in some forest and then somehow enchanted to ward of most feral creatures. Since he lost his horse, this whole quest had gone bitterer. The comfort he had before was long gone in memory.

So when he arrived in Rivendell, at night, he found the homely house a haven. Hosts of fair faced elves escorted him to his room. He took a proper bath, got formally dressed and proceeded to ask for Master Elrond's presence. He knew he wouldn't get an audience at this untimely hour but at least he made known his existence. But for the time being, he headed outside his quarters to have a private dinner for himself and settle for the night.

The next day, he found himself sleeping beyond the morning. He must have been so weary. After washing up, he found a servant and was briefed he is to be expected at Master Elrond's study later in the afternoon. He thanked the maid and decided to explore the place. He arrived at some time at the same corridor he was in now. The murals were unbelievable and felt so alive. He examined closely the intricate details before being interrupted.

There was a loud noise just outside. Boromir's warrior instinct told him there is a fight going on. He instantly got excited. He hadn't been fighting for some time now and the prospect of sparring is good enough. He followed the commotion quite easily.

That's when he first saw her, garbed in her own clothes and spear in hand.

Her muscles flexed at each blow from her opponent, a golden haired Ellon with a majestic sword in hand. They were equal of strength but Boromir knew the elf was more superior in skill. His stance was smoother and more perfect. But that's not to say the woman was without chance in winning. She had a spear, not a sword, so her thrust stance was more appropriate for her weapon.

"I can see why Elladan is so eager for me to meet you. You are a fine warrior."

The woman snorted, "Tell that when we finally land a successful blow."

The man laughed. "Aye, that is true." He attacked again, sending numerous slashes at her. The woman blocked them all, maneuvering her weapon efficiently. She managed to dodge the last hit. She bent low, collapsing her stand to reach the ground, did a round kick and shot her spear directly over the elf's head. He barely managed to block the weapon and dodge the untimely blow. He still landed neatly a few feet away though.

"Lord Glorfindel." Boromir watched as the elf turned around at the mention of his name. Boromir followed Glorfindel's line of sight and immediately saw the same servant he asked for Master Elrond. "Forgive if I interrupt but may I request your presence in Master Elrond's study?"

Glorfindel smiled and nodded. "I will be there shortly." The servant bowed low before hurrying off. He turned to the woman and bowed as well. "It has been a pleasure to cross swords with you my lady; until then."

The woman stood up and dusted herself off. She smirked. "You too. Good luck with your meeting."

The meeting… ah yes, he was supposed to go this afternoon. Boromir headed as well, but not before looking back once more at the elf maiden warrior. She was a force, and he would take caution and earn her favor.

And now he just met her, dressed in regular Elleth clothes. Who is she anyway?

He made a small note to meet Lady Fang again.


If Vanille or Fang ever did heard of Elrond's coming Council, they were certainly weren't invited. They are still foreigners after all, hailing from a literal distant land – or world if they should consider it.

The company of Elladan came back on that day, and the brothers along with Aragorn joined the council. Legolas and his hosts of elves were there too, since that was their reason for going in the first place. The dwarves and Boromir, all of them who are visitors of Imladris joined; all, except perhaps Pippin, Merry, Vanille, and Fang. The four spent the rest of the afternoon out in the garden, the hobbits drinking tea and eating cakes, and the two watching the serene surroundings.

They talked little, conversations at most were about the weather but their thoughts could never be different from one another. The air was heavy all around the place. It seems the Council is one great decision.

It simply felt all too eerie and nostalgic at the same time for both Fang and Vanille. They held each other's hands tight, all too fearing of what will happen next. For them, this is so much like the last Oerba council. It was about their journey, as Pulse L'Cie destined to become Ragnarok and destroy Cocoon. It was a solemn meeting, a prayer of surrendering your will and fate; all paths laid for you to do. Nothing else matters.

"I wonder what they're deciding," Vanille said. "Whose future will they dictate?"

"Or if they are even dictating," Fang replied. "Man, this is like being turned into a L'Cie again."

"L'Cie?" Merry asked. "What's that?"

"Us," Fang answered vaguely.

Pippin smiled, trying to lighten up the mood. "But that's good right? If you are a L'Cie, then L'Cies must be really nice."

Vanille coughed uncomfortably. How can that sentence be so… wrong in all ways? Fang smiled sickly. "You have no idea."


The day passed and the following days went as well. The air never felt so solemn. Everyone was somehow quieter. The gatherings grew less, and Arwen's meetings with Fang ceased. Not that Fang noticed as she too faded into the background of the Hall's daily goings. Vanille spent most of her time with Fang.

L'Cie… it has been a while since Vanille thought about their recent past. Lightning and the other felt so far away, while the memory of Oerba grew more vivid. It is as if her mind was trying to erase what happened after their first crystal stasis. She fought hard trying to keep them intact but little by little it slips. Growing afraid of completely losing it, she asked for Erestor. "Do you have any paper I could write on?"

It was midday, four days after the Council was held. They never resumed their lessons but Vanille was quick to pick up on things, and with the help of the scholars there, she learned a great deal of Sindarin and spent some of her time in their archives. Erestor studied her carefully. He picked up his pile of books and methodically set them back to their shelves. "Lady Vanille, you must understand the material does not come very common. We produce them on a very rare basis. Whatever purpose you may have, I hope it will be important enough to spare you some."

"I think… I'm losing some of my memories," Vanille explained. "I need a way for preserving them. Just a little, I think, maybe a sentence or a short letter about my journey with… them. Please?"

Erestor paused and smiled sadly. "That I understand. We elves have such burden, keeping everything for the infinite time. The memories will fade, my lady, but one wants to treasure them as long as one can." He took a parchment from his desk and gave it to Vanille. "I hope this might ease your anxiety."

Vanille smiled gratefully and thanked him. She took the paper, quill already given weeks back, and went back to her chambers and started to get down to it. She paused, examining the paper, and thought about what she should write. How would she fit everything here, her accounts on her friends? Then she knew the answer. She placed the quill to the paper and began:

Gran Pulse, my home and Fang's

Cocoon, the world Inside

We are tasked to meet its end, but we found something else.

Cocoon had a family, and I grew to love them.

Sazh, Hope, Snow, and Lightning

They became my new family and Fang's

We held our own future and fate

We prove our Will and Freedom

And now, I wish to do the same once more.

I hope I won't forget.

-Vanille

The prompts will do the trick. She finished writing her name and folded the paper neatly. She tucked it then to her skirt. This is going to be her luck charm, she decided.

"Vanille?" It was Fang.

Vanille looked up and smiled. "I'm coming."

Later that night, Vanille dreamed. Darkness filled the whole scene. She was desperately searching for something, but couldn't find it. She decided to escape but it seemed futile, for everything seemed the same, desolate and hopeless. "Fang? Anyone?"

I see you…

Vanille turned to the owner of the voice. It was a soft hiss and felt ominous. There was a blinding light. She followed where it came from. A rush of humid air swept her violently. She closed her eyes. It felt horrible. She wanted to stop. "No!" Everything stilled at her command.

The scene changed. She was floating. She opened her eyes and saw another brilliant light, more warm and happy. Colors grew and she found herself in a middle of Imladris. She looked around and saw Frodo sitting on the bench. He was fingering something on his neck. She came to him. Frodo looked up to her and held his hand up. Vanille drew her gaze to his palm and saw a ring, perfect in shape and fair to look upon. She looked back at Frodo for an answer but was stunned when she saw no one. The ring was in her hand and latched at her neck. It felt unusually heavy.

See no harm to this…

It was that same scary voice. It was coming from the ring. Vanille tried pulling it off but it grew more stubborn and the chain felt smaller. She felt hard breathing for oxygen. In, out, in, in…

"No!" Vanille screamed choking.

"Vanille!" a strong pair of arms grabbed her steady. Vanille bolted awake and saw Fang watching her intently. Vanille was sweating madly and her heart was thumping in frenzy. She was awake. Etro, she awake!

"Fang," she half sobbed, grabbing the woman in a tight embrace. Fang rubbed her back, trying to comfort her. But Vanille knew it would never work.

The sign was burning. It was not over for her.

She has her new Focus.

A/N: Yes, it's short, forgive me. I just have to post this or it'll be a long while until I update again. I hope the adventure will start the next chapter. This story has its own pace beyond my control. Again, please leave a review. I want to know how it fares. Thanks!