"Rivendell is certainly something," thought Eowyn as she stood on a balcony and looked out over the valley. It was late in

the afternoon on the second day of her arrival. The reddening sun was slipping lower in the West. A small party of Elves

had greeted her upon her entrance, and bid her welcome.

From what she had seen so far of the Elves, she admired their beauty and wisdom, yet was apprehensive about them too,

and about their customs. The valley itself was beautiful, a place of greenery and falling water and high mountains. A safe

sanctuary it was, but to Eowyn it also made her feel a little claustrophobic, for she was used to the plains and wide open

spaces of Rohan.

There were also many visitors from other lands present in Rivendell. A few Men were there - Rangers, rough-looking men

dressed for the wilderness. There was even a party of Dwarves, who seemed to get on well enough with the Elves,

surprisingly. Eowyn guessed that they had sought counsel from Lord Elrond in the past. There was also a somewhat familiar

face - Gandalf the Grey, the wizard, who had visited Edoras a few times in the past. He usually spoke only to Theoden,

however, and their talks were secret. Many of the men and women of Rohan viewed Gandalf in much the same way that

they viewed the Elves.

Perhaps the most unexpected visitors were the Halflings, or hobbits as they were also called, small creatures that to Eowyn

had only existed in legends before this point. There were five of them - one very old; two looking like they were approaching

middle age, serious and quiet; and two younger, talkative and curious.

A hand tapped her on the shoulder, causing her to jump in surprise and whirl around. A tall Elf, clad in green, stood there.

With the natural quietness of Elves, she had not heard him approach at all. "My Lady," he said. "Lord Elrond wishes to speak

with you. Come."

He led her through courtyards and corridors, until at last they came to a large room. "Lord Elrond awaits," he said, then

disappeared as silently as he had come.

Eowyn for the first time looked upon the Elf whose aid and counsel she desired. Kingly was his appearance, like that of

Theoden before he had fallen into weakness. Although she knew he must be thousands of years old his face showed no

age.

"Welcome, Eowyn, Lady of Rohan," said Elrond, in a soft but serious voice. "Long have you journeyed to seek me. What is

it that you wish to discuss?"

"I thank you, Lord Elrond, for receiving me," she answered. Quickly she summarized all that was happening in her country,

concluding with the feeling of emptiness and isolation that had covered Rohan in despair.

"Dark tidings indeed," said the elf-lord slowly when she had finished. "And from all over the land dark tidings come. Yet

there is still hope, for it appears that something else is at work too. Something powerful, that has brought many visitors

from all corners of Middle-earth to this place." He paused.

"Saruman's betrayal is a harsh blow to the side of light," he said finally. "Great and wise he was once, though from near the

beginning his pride worried me. But we will speak no more of this tonight. Tomorrow, I will hold a council. I bid you join us.

All your questions should be answered there."

He wished her good night and Eowyn took her leave, heading back to the guest room assigned to her. Dark still were her

dreams that night, though a new hope burned in them too.

She awoke the next morning better rested than she had been in a long while. Walking outside, she looked eastwards, up at

the snow-covered Misty Mountains. She had changed out of her dusty travel-clothes into a simple but attractive green

dress. A light breeze blew her long blonde hair out behind her. On that sunny morning, in the sanctuary of Rivendell, she

felt at peace, save for the voice in the depths of her mind warning of evil ahead.

A bell rang loudly, interrupting her thoughts. She followed the sound to a large porch overlooking a foaming river. There sat

a gathering of many representatives of the races of Middle-earth. In the middle of the gathering sat Lord Elrond, along with

several similarly dressed elves. In addition to the elves, dwarves, and men, Gandalf the wizard was there, next to the old

hobbit and one of the younger ones. A third halfling, a stout fellow, sat quietly in the corner behind them.

Elrond arose. "Friends from the free lands of Middle-earth. I bid you welcome to the Council of Elrond. I realize that some of

you may not know each other, so I will now make introductions. Here is Gandalf the Grey, and the young halfling next to him

is Frodo, son of Drogo. Few have ever come through greater peril or on an errand more urgent." Eowyn looked at Frodo with

interest and wondered of what Elrond spoke. Elrond went on to introduce the old hobbit as Bilbo, Frodo's cousin. He made

no mention of the third hobbit, and Eowyn wondered if he had noticed him.

"This Elf here," continued Elrond, pointing to an Elf who was dressed differently from all the rest. "He is Legolas, a messenger

from his father, the King of the Elves of Mirkwood." Two Dwarves were there, and they were introduced as Gloin and his son

Gimli. A rough-looking man in worn travel clothes, sitting in a corner, was named as Strider, a Ranger of the North. And

there was another man seated a little apart from the others. His clothes were rich and elegant, but stained and worn with

the signs of a long journey. Eowyn had not seen him before, though he somehow looked familiar. "This man here is Boromir

of Gondor, son of the Steward," said Elrond. "He has arrived just this morning."

Eowyn's eyes widened. So this was the famous Boromir! She looked intently at him and was only snapped out of her thoughts

when Elrond introduced her and she realized that everyone was looking at her. She quickly gave them a nervous smile.

"Now that introductions have been made, we may get to business," said Elrond.

Gloin the Dwarf spoke first. He talked of the disappearance of his cousin Balin, who had led a party of dwarves into the mines

of Moria, but had not been heard from for years. Gloin went on to speak of the Dwarves receiving a visit from a messenger of

Sauron, who wished to retrieve "the least of rings," and would give the three remaining Dwarven Rings of Power in exchange

for it. "I come to warn you of Sauron's desire," the dwarf finished, "and to ask for counsel."

"You did well to come here," said Elrond. "For all of you will hear today why this ring, the 'least of rings,' is tied to the fate of

us all. You have all come to me, strangely in the very nick of time, though I did not call you. By chance it may seem, but it

is not so. For a great force is at work here, a force that has ordained that we who sit here must now find counsel for the

peril of the world."

Elrond then told the whole tale of Sauron and the Rings of Power to his audience. Many knew some of the tale, but few knew

all, and they listened in wonder. He told of the Three Rings for the Elves, and the Seven for the Dwarves, and the Nine for

the Men, and of the One, the One Ring that Sauron the Dark Lord forged to rule all the others, the "least of rings" which Sauron

was now desperately trying to recover. He spoke of the Second Age, and how at its end the Last Alliance of Elves and Men

marched on Mordor and defeated Sauron, though the leaders of the Alliance, Gil-galad King of the Elves and Elendil King of Men

fell in battle. "Isildur, son of Elendil, cut the One Ring from Sauron's hand and took it for himself. I bid him cast the Ring into

the fires of Mount Doom to destroy it once and for all, but he would not listen. It soon betrayed him to his death, and ever in

the North it has been known as Isildur's Bane," Elrond said solemnly.

Elrond continued his tale, moving on to the Third Age and the history of Gondor, and the decline of the bloodline of its kings.

When he paused, Boromir stood up suddenly and began to speak. All eyes moved to him.

"With your leave, Master Elrond, I shall say more of Gondor, my home. Believe not that its pride and dignity are spent or

forgotten. By our valor and our blood is the terror of Mordor kept at bay, and the passages of the Great River open to the

West. But it is not of battle that I have journeyed so far to speak. In a dream I saw the eastern sky grow dark, but in the

West a pale light lingered, and a voice cried out to me. To seek for the Sword that was broken, and know that the awakening

of Isildur's Bane is at hand."

The Ranger, Strider, stood up and revealed his sword, broken into two pieces. "And here is the Sword that was broken!" he

cried. "The blade that Isildur used to cut the Ring from Sauron's hand, three thousand years ago. It is here."

Boromir turned in surprise. "And who are you, and how come you by this sword?" he asked in wonder.

"He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and through many generations the heir of Isildur," spoke up Elrond. Boromir stared at him and

all present grew quiet.

"Bring forth the Ring, Frodo," said Gandalf finally. "The time has come."

Frodo, a fearful look on his face, slowly drew out and held up a small, plain golden ring. All eyes focused on it. "Behold Isildur's

Bane!" said Elrond.

Boromir finally said, "But how does a Halfling come by this Ring, after Isildur lost it so long ago?"

"That is a tale for the hobbits to tell," said Elrond. Bilbo spoke first and told of his finding of the Ring, and of his adventures

(and misadventures) with the thirteen dwarves and the evil creature Gollum, who had found the Ring where Isildur had dropped

it many years ago, and had it until losing it to Bilbo. Then Frodo spoke of his adventures since coming into possession of the

Ring, including the pursuit by the Black Riders. Eowyn found herself listening to these tales with fascination, made all the more

wondrous by the fact that these hobbits had only recently been revealed to her as more than legends. Frodo seemed to speak

somewhat unwillingly, and his face showed the strain of a great burden. Bilbo, on the other hand, had spoken eagerly, and had

the attitude of one who had had a burden lifted from his shoulders.

"And this treacherous Gollum?" said Boromir, when the Hobbits were done with their tales. "What became of him?"

"Alas!" cried Legolas. "It is because of Gollum that my father sent me here, for it is my sad duty to inform the Council that

Gollum has escaped our custody."

"Escaped!" said Aragorn. "Ill news indeed, that is. How did this come to be?"

"Not through lack of watchfulness, but perhaps through over-kindliness," said Legolas. "For after Gandalf brought the captured

creature to us we guarded him day and night, but did not keep him in our dungeons, for fear that his heart would turn to

darkness once more."

"You were kinder to that miserable creature than you were to me and my companions," said Gloin angrily, remembering his

imprisonment in the Elf-king's dungeons on his adventure with Bilbo.

"Come now!" said Gandalf. "That regrettable misunderstanding was long ago set right. If all the grievances between Dwarves

and Elves were to be brought up here, there would be no point to this Council."

Gloin bowed his head apologetically, and Legolas continued his story. "We allowed Gollum to climb the trees of the forest,

always keeping guard at the tree's foot. One day, while he was in a very tall tree, Orcs caught us unawares and attacked us.

We managed to drive them off after a hard fight, but after it was over we discovered that Gollum was gone. We tracked him

for a while, but lost the trail. The Orcs have him now. He is gone."

"Dark news indeed," said an Elf. "But what of Saruman, the White Wizard? He is learned in the lore of the Rings, perhaps more

so than any of us. What is his counsel? Why is he not here?"

Eowyn stood up abruptly. "Saruman is a traitor," she said in an angry voice, her temper flaring up. Suddenly conscious that

she was the youngest person in the room, as well as the only woman, she continued in a more dignified tone. "He has declared

war upon my country of Rohan and its people. Throughout the Westfold of our land orcs and evil men, at his bidding, burn our

villages and slaughter our men, women, and children."

"Foul is the treason of Saruman," said Gandalf. "I have more to add to this tale." He told of his visit to Isengard, Saruman's

desire to acquire the Ring for himself, and his imprisonment at the hands of the White Wizard, until his escape with the aid of

one of the Great Eagles.

"It is perilous to study the arts of the Enemy too deeply. For good or for ill," said Elrond sadly. "Saruman was deep in our

counsel. His betrayal has done great harm to us all. But there is still the matter of the Ring to deal with. Hide it, destroy it,

we must deal with it somehow."

"But why speak of hiding and destroying?" said Boromir. "Why not use this Ring, as a weapon for our side? Why do you think it

has come to us in this hour? Let us wield this Ring, and use it to deliver us our victory!"

"We cannot," said Elrond. "The Ring is altogether evil. Anyone who tried to wield it for his own would become corrupted, and

soon another Dark Lord would appear. I would not take it even to hide it, and that would do no good anyway, for there is no

place we could hide it that we could be absolutely certain of its security. No, there is only one choice. The Ring must be

destroyed. And only in the fires of Mount Doom, in the heart of Mordor where the Ring was made, can it be unmade."

"But who can take that burden?" asked Eowyn. No one answered. The noon-bell rang and still all was quiet. Finally Frodo

stood up, and spoke in a voice that sounded very small.

"I will take the Ring to Mordor," he said, "though I do not know the way."

Everyone looked at him. "It is a heavy burden," said Elrond after a long silence. "So heavy that none can lay it on another.

But if you choose to take it, I will say that it is right."

"But you won't send him off alone, surely?" said Sam, jumping up from the corner and speaking for the first time.

"No," said Elrond with a smile. "You, at least, shall go with him. It is hardly possible to separate you two, even when he is

summoned to a secret council and you are not."

Sam walked over to Frodo. "A nice pickle we have landed ourselves in!" he said.