I have the best readers in the whole world.
GUYS, here's the next chapter. How exciting! I'm super sick at the moment so I highly doubt my editing capabilities, please let me know if you find any inconsistencies, spelling mistakes or mix-ups. I'll be so grateful!
Enjoy, and make sure to read the Author's note at the end.
- Torrance Rose -
Elvish words used: (I am not an expert in this language. I literally just do a google search, so if there are mistakes, oh well. Let's just use our imagination, and pretend it's right! Though, do let me know if you know the correct words, etc. Because I will correct it. The mistake, of course, is all mine. This goes for ALL elvish words used throughout the story.
pen tithen - little one.
Elle was catapulted awake the next morning by two very loud, very excitable hobbits jumping on her bed.
She groaned, ignoring their demands for her to wake up as she burrowed under the covers and willed herself to go back to sleep. She didn't have a hangover in dream-land.
"Come on, Elle! It's almost ten, and we have to go to the meeting." Merry explained in a rush as he grabbed her exposed foot and tugged with all his might.
She slid out from under the covers, looking very disgruntled as she glared at the both of them, "I'm sleeping, in case you two don't realise what that looks like. Besides, I thought we weren't allowed to go to the meeting."
Her tone was dripping with derision, framing her opinion on the oh-so-private and elite Council going ahead as planned.
"Like that's ever stopped us before!" Pippin piped up, a grin on his pointed face. Elle raised her brows, liking the sound of that.
"So, what?" She began as she lifted herself up into a sitting position, "We'll just go and hope nobody notices us?"
Merry shook his head, mirroring Pippin's beaming smile as he said, "Nope. We'll hide, we're good at that. We can listen in!"
The two looked like they'd just broken into the cookie jar and gotten away with it.
Elle pursed her lips, tapping a finger against her chin as she mulled it over, "So what you're saying is, we'll sneak in and eavesdrop on the meeting like a bunch of untrustworthy, lying, cheating little spies?"
Both their faces paled, realising too late that it might not have been the best idea to involve someone else in on their plan. Now it was ruined, and there would be no fun and games or listening in on secret, covert operations.
Elle let them suffer for a moment, until her face split into a wide grin.
"That is genius! Where is it?"
It took Elle all of fifteen minutes to pin her hair back in a messy bun, tendrils of curls escaping the loosely braided sides as she tugged on her tired ivory lounging robe. She barely had time to brush her teeth elven-style and rinse her face, before being dragged out of the room by the two boys.
"Where is it?" Elle hissed, repeating herself softly as they ducked into an alcove to avoid two vartyo walking by.
The two hobbits took turns squabbling in their telling. Eventually she pieced together that the meeting was being held in one of Lord Elrond's most private courtyards, specifically designed for these urgent Councils. Pippin had overheard some of the elves discussing it last night with their Lord, and learned that it was somewhere near his own quarters.
Elle had only ever been there once before with Arwen during her first tour, but her more wolfish senses kicked in and she reluctantly surrendered to it and began leading the way. Soon she'd picked up the scent of human, wizard and elves. There was another iron and stone-like smell she quickly pinpointed as unique to the dwarves mingling throughout.
"Where is Sam?" Elle mouthed as male voices picked up on the wind.
The hobbits just shrugged, "Wasn't there when we went to his room." Pippin answered in a barely-heard whisper.
Elle nodded, before placing a finger to her lips and edging around the hallway. They ducked down, avoiding the wide arched windows as they crawled to the end of the walkway where a large open doorway was centred to the right. Hiding behind a column, Elle peered through the gaps to survey the scene before them.
The Council was being held in a breezy courtyard outside, and set on a large stone circular dais. High-backed formal chairs ringed the clearing, with Lord Elrond seated at the head, and a cylinder platform in the very centre.
She couldn't see it from here, but Elle guessed that that was where the One Ring resided. She knew what it must look like to these men; innocent, placid, a mere and uninteresting piece of jewellery. But she could scent it's evil, pulsing aura behind all that it used to hide.
And while that in itself repelled her, there was an essence within the Ring that intrigued her to no end. It pulled at her wolf with tiny gossamer threads, enticing and tempting without force or demand. Elle ignored it.
Intricate elvish designs ringed the room in golden arches, adding to the divine and empyrean feel of the place that only contrasted with the dark presence of the Ring. Engulfing shrubbery and trees encased the circle from prying eyes but left the view free from the entrance to where they hid, with foreboding statues of stone situated protectively around them as if in warning to the trespassers. Elle suppressed a shudder, and instead concentrated on the conversation at hand.
Boromir was standing near the centre of the circle, his gestures wild and animated and his tone not any different. He sounded passionate, heated, and determined.
"By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe! Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him!" He shouted valiantly, looking every bit the warrior as he faced the Council.
"You cannot wield it." Aragorn broke in from where he sat, "None of us can."
Aragorn's stance was deceptively at ease, lounging pensively back in his seat. Elle could see in his eyes the hunter she knew behind them, held back amongst his peers.
Boromir turned to the Ranger skeptically, "And what would a Ranger know of this matter?" He asked with a hint of scorn.
Elle leant forward for a better view, her curls falling into her eyes and tickling her chin as she tried to stay hidden without losing the focus of the meeting.
She watched as the silver-haired elf - Arwen had reminded her continuously that his name was Legolas - stood in outrage and stalked down the human, "This is no mere Ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance." His fierce, husky voice was resolute, sending a foreign thrill deep into Elle's core at the dominant tone. The elf stood a couple of inches above Boromir, staring him down with a cold fury.
Boromir looked like he'd just seen a ghost, shock colouring his features. He did not look pleased about this unwarranted turn of events.
"Aragorn..." He stated in amazement, "This is Isildur's heir?"
"And heir to the throne of Gondor." Legolas reminded him heavily, a silent warning to tread carefully.
Aragorn exhaled wearily, before gesturing for Legolas to sit down and murmuring something in that lyrical elvish language she'd grown to adore. To Elle's amazement, the pompous elf complied and backed off without complaint.
Boromir clearly didn't notice the look on Aragorn's face that spoke volumes, it was too obvious that the Ranger would have preferred nothing more than for that little tidbit to have remained secret.
"Gondor has no King." Boromir near spat toward the silver-haired elf, before turning slowly to face Aragorn who hadn't yet budged an inch, "Gondor needs no King."
The Captain returned to his seat with just as much determination as he'd begun with. The tension in the room was palpable and awkward, no one knowing quite what to say to that remark. It bordered the line of treasonous, really.
"Aragorn is right." Gandalf was the first to break the silence as he sat thoughtfully in his chair, "We cannot use it."
With that, Lord Elrond stood in all his grandeur and faced the rest of them solemnly, his features set and strong.
"You have only one choice. The Ring must be destroyed."
The silence that followed was onimous, sickly with fear and the unknown, until the dwarven Lord Gimli growled out, "What are we waitin' for?" and jumped forward with his axe at the ready.
In one fell move, he swiftly brought the weapon down only for it to shatter into thousands of fragments on contact with the Ring. The shards exploded in every direction, as the little dwarf was thrown off his feet by the sheer force and power of the cursed object.
In that instant, Elle's eyes were drawn to Frodo who sat small and pale beside the wizard. Her memory flashed, and she recalled the fiery, black image of the Eye that stabbed Frodo's consciousness at the smash of the blade.
She didn't miss the hobbit flinch, his eyes slamming shut upon the impact as if he, too, were in physical pain. Elle's chest swarmed with sympathy for the poor boy, and all that he had to deal with to come.
"The Ring cannot be destroyed Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess." Lord Elrond informed the dwarf as his comrades leapt up to help him from the floor.
Elrond continued on, his voice turning darker and all the more chilling with each vile word he spoke, "The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor, and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came!"
Elle's eyes were glued to the Ring, barely a hint of gold amidst all that stone, as the Black Speech filled her ears. Beckoning, teasing, taunting... It called to her, called her home...
Elle squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her tingling gums painfully, willing the voices in her head to stop. She felt cold, numb, like she'd never feel anything ever again.
"Elle?" Merry whispered from beside her, grasping her hands between his. The clammy heat of his fingers circled hers, and she jolted like a bucket of ice water had been thrown over her head. Elle ripped her thoughts from the Ring, resisting the twisted words as she locked eyes with Merry's warm, hazel orbs.
"Th-thank you." She stuttered breathlessly, finding it an effort just to keep her voice down. The hobbit nodded in reply, tightening his hold on her as they turned back to the meeting.
She'd never, in all her life as a fan of the famous franchise, expected the Ring's pull to be so powerful. Sure, in theory she knew it was damn near irresistible if it wanted to be. Hell, just look at what happened to Smeagol. Bilbo had to practically wrestle the thing out of his mutated hands in The Hobbit, only for it to screw him over pretty good too.
She'd just never thought she would be so perceptible to it.
"One of you must do this." Lord Elrond was finishing as she tuned back in, fixing the Council with a serious stare.
Elle's eyes snapped to Boromir as he moved to hold a hand to his head in exhausted disbelief, "One does not simply walk into Mordor."
Elle snorted.
She couldn't remember who died, who lived, or even what happened in this fabled quest. But this she remembered; a silly meme on the Internet that had her smirking at her own ridiculous sense of humour. Typical of her mind to make everything into a bit of a joke.
She quickly sobered up, however, as Boromir went on undisturbed and his tone grew only more hopeless.
"It's Black Gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. The Great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire, and ash, and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume." His voice ended in a hoarse chuckle as he said, "Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly."
Once again the silver-haired elf Legolas snapped up from his seat, proud and indignant as he rounded on Boromir, "Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed."
Elle didn't know what his hot-headed deal was, but the elf had the kind of strong, commanding tone of someone who didn't need to raise their voice to be heard. It was soft yet unyielding and firm, like a General addressing his troops before battle.
"And I suppose you think you're the one to do it!" The dwarf Lord, Gimli, barked from his seat in a growl.
Boromir was standing once more, facing the elf down again as he rebuked, "And if we fail, what happens when Sauron takes back what is his?"
"I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an elf!" Gimli howled as he leapt from his seat, and the Council quickly descended into chaos.
The elves all jumped to Legolas's aid, raced by the dwarves, and then lastly Boromir's men followed suit as they all began a screaming match fit for the Gods of Olympus.
Elle was astonished by the uncharacteristic display of these stoic men, the air rising and thick with tension as they all shouted over the other in a useless bid to be heard across the din.
Their gestures were unrestrained, their voices insulting and crude as they all threw themselves into the heated debate that had somehow become a matter of racial discrimination.
Men.
Elle could practically hear the One Ring laughing with glee at the discord it had surely caused; nobody was immune to the affects of such dark power.
"Never trust an elf!" Elle could distinctly hear Gimli's brogue over the anarchy, derisive and angry as he repeated his statement.
She could just make out Gandalf's pointed grey hat over the crowd, shaking his head wearily as he lifted himself up to join the fray. Frodo looked withdrawn and confused, his vibrant eyes drawn to the Ring as if in deep thought.
"Do you understand? While you bicker, Sauron's power grows!" Gandalf's voice rang loudly through the clearing as he attempted to placate the Council, "None can escape it, you'll all be destroyed!"
Nobody seemed to hear a single word he said, they just continued their mindless shouting match in a rage as Boromir turned to Gandalf and yelled for him to see reason. To let them wield it.
Elle found that to be a crazy idea, she could feel it's evil lurking like it were a magnet pulling at her. It would wield them.
Her jaw was slack, her hand squeezing Merry's beside her as they watched on from the shadows, when Frodo finally stood and spoke up.
"I will take it."
He might as well have been talking to a wall, with all the attention that got him. Elle's heart went out to him, devastated. He looked so tiny compared to all of these bickering men; a child in their wake.
"I will take it!" Frodo shouted louder, taking a few steps forward to be heard. The wizard stilled and visibly sighed, his shoulders sagging in defeat.
"I will take the Ring to Mordor." Frodo said resolutely, loud and clear as everyone's voices died down, "Though... I do not know the way."
The entire Council was struck speechless by this confession, humbled in such stark contrast with their own behaviour. Elle recalled that while one might think they know all there is to a hobbit, they never failed to surprise you. She was pretty sure each of these Council members were figuring that out right about now.
There was silence for all of five seconds, until Gandalf broke it by stepping up to take his place behind him.
"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins." He rumbled with a pat to his shoulder, "As long as it is yours to bear."
Aragorn stood, having not moved during the entire clash, with pride in his eyes.
"If by my life or death I can protect you, I will." He vowed, getting to his knees before Frodo, "You have my sword."
Elle's jaw dropped. The Fellowship, they were forming the Fellowship right before her eyes.
Her excitement was dampened only slightly as the elf, Legolas, stalked toward the hobbit purposefully and pledged, "And you have my bow."
"And my axe!" Gimli followed determinedly, trundling forward.
Her smile picked up as Boromir strolled forward, "You carry the Fates of us all, little one. If this is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done."
Elle's mind was almost as chaotic as this meeting as she watched everything unfold, but she didn't have a lot of time to marvel over witnessing this historical display as a commotion broke the solemn scene.
"Heh!" A familiar voice interrupted as a head of golden-brown curls appeared behind a bush. Elle's eyes were wide, silent laughter curling her lips as Sam scurried out from his hiding place and took a stand beside his best friend, "Mr Frodo's not going anywhere without me!"
"No indeed, it is hardly possible to separate you. Even when he is summoned to a secret Council and you are not." Lord Elrond said as he crossed his arms in mock disapproval, amusement flitting across his face.
Next thing Elle knew, Merry had grabbed her arm and pulled her out from behind the column. They raced ahead of her up the stairs as Elrond turned, shocked.
"Oi! We're coming too!" Merry cried out as they both ran to Frodo's side.
Elle could almost burst into laughter at the look of surprise on Lord Elrond's face, it was so comical on the serene and eternally poised elf, but she refrained as she stood uncertainly at the bottom of the dais.
"You'll have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!" Merry finished with absolute determination.
"Anyway," Pippin added as he crossed his arms and met the eyes of the elf, "you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission... quest... thing."
"Well that rules you out, Pip." Merry muttered with a snigger.
Pippin nodded along happily, obliviously, to Merry's words, until he caught on with what was being said and abruptly stopped.
Lord Elrond looked nothing short of entertained by their antics and this sudden change of events as he turned to appraise her hanging back in the shadows.
"And what of you, my Lady? I suppose you wish to accompany your friends in this endeavour, too?"
Elle took to the stairs tentatively, ignoring the ranging reactions of astonishment to downright disapproval of the surrounding Council at this new unwarranted approach. She felt like her skin was caught up in flames, her entire body thrumming and tingling with anticipation.
Was this really happening?
"I..." She took a step forward into the sunlight, scanning the scene before her like she was trying to memorise every last detail. Which she was. But she never got the chance to savour it.
"With all due respect Lord Elrond, the thought of bringing a woman on this journey is a ridiculous notion."
The deep voice was lyrical and smooth, belying the harsh choice of words against her. It was the last voice she wanted to hear right now. Elle's gaze snapped to the silver-haired elf who'd spoken, his pale blue eyes not even on her as he locked gazes with Lord Elrond.
Elle felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her, like she'd just been run over by a steamroller. There was no better way to describe it. He had completely caught her off guard with that obnoxious statement, not even expecting that her right to take part in this mission would be questioned.
"What?" She sputtered incredulously as her mouth caught on and her cheeks flushed angrily, "I've been on this quest longer than you have!"
"A minor detail," The elf breezed over as his gaze passed momentarily from her outraged face and back to Lord Elrond, "The girl would be in constant danger, not to mention slowing our progress and potentially placing the Ringbearer in the path of harm as well."
"The girl?!"
She bit back a few choice words she'd have liked to use, refraining from giving the aloof elf the satisfaction of seeing her crack.
"She is not just a girl." Boromir broke in as Elle fought for words, "She is a Wolf of Mordor. She could be a great asset. I say she joins us."
Elle glanced to the warrior, gratitude written across her face as he nodded imperceptibly in understanding.
"I second that." The dwarf backed up, though Elle was pretty sure he'd have said anything to go against the elf's wishes, "She is no defenceless damsel, the wolves have strength not even you can comprehend, elf."
Legolas looked affronted, but his neutral gaze and cool demeanour quickly swallowed it up as he pushed forward, "Precisely why she is so dangerous. Temperamental, no more than an experiment. This journey is too treacherous to begin with, without an unpredictable werewolf pup in our midst."
"Excuse me?!" Elle spat as she stomped forward, "An experiment? Are you off your meds, or something? I'm a human being, asshole. And I'm a big girl, I think if you can make the decision of coming I can make that decision for myself too."
"You are a woman." He retorted, as if that explained everything.
"What's that got to do with anything?!" Her voice was becoming uncomfortably high-pitched in her anger.
"An elleth could hold themselves well, yes, but a human girl? A child, no less? Having returned to this wolf form as of little over a week ago, does not a soldier make." Legolas explained further, his tone apathetically undisturbed by her shrieking, "You would only be placing yourself in harm's way, as well as that of your friends. Surely that must alarm you?"
She gritted her teeth and counted slowly back from ten.
Elle had no idea what she'd ever seen in this pointy-eared jerk to find him even remotely attractive. She was positive that behind his blasé and politely detached expression he was smugly patting himself on the back for putting the helpless little wolf girl in her place. The bastard.
Calmly, or as calmly as she could muster up in the situation, she gritted out, "I really don't appreciate your creepy, passive-aggressive attempt at guilting me into backing out. I can handle myself just fine, I will not be a burden nor will I actively put anyone in any danger."
There. She'd take the high road, and remain the mature adult. There was no way she was going to succumb to his high-handed jabs by lashing out. No matter how tenuous of a grasp she had on her temper right now, what with her wolf just battling to tear the impassive look off his face.
Before the elf could retort, however, Gandalf broke in to their argument. "May I make a suggestion?"
They both cast glares toward the wizard for interrupting. Well, Elle did. Legolas was still disturbingly unruffled. Did the man have no passion, or something? He was about as expressive as a damn robot in the face of her wrath.
"This is, after all, Frodo's journey. Perhaps it should be in his hands to make such a decision? We are at an impasse, I don't see any other option if Elle is intent on going," He looked to the elf at this before turning his grey-blue eyes on her, "and Legolas is intent on your staying."
"Why is it anyone's decision to make but mine? This is ridiculous, none of you are my keeper!" Elle barked out in annoyance, the sound just slightly off kilter and leaning toward her wolfish side.
Boromir sniggered beside her, "Perhaps that's it, my Lady. Perhaps you need a keeper?"
Elle shot him a baleful look, dismissing the notion with a hiss, "Don't give them any more ideas, Captain."
"I- I think Elle should come. I don't see why she shouldn't. I mean, she did protect us against the Ringwraiths... And she's just as qualified as any hobbit for this journey, mayhap even more..." Frodo supplied softly, his voice barely heard over their chatter.
Elle stopped talking instantly, her face lighting up as she threw herself at the hobbit and pressed a kiss to his forehead, "Thank you, Frodo! You're the best!"
The hobbit blushed a thousand shades of red as she stood and ruffled his hair excitedly, her smile turning smug as she appraised the elf condescendingly.
"Looks like you've just been voted off the island, mate." She smirked, hiding her frustration as Legolas remained calmly uninterested and turned back to Lord Elrond as though their disagreement had never happened.
"So, ten companions it will be... So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!" Lord Elrond stated proudly, and Elle swelled with excitement.
"Right!" Pippin grinned from beside her, glancing about curiously, "Where are we going?"
"You should have heard him, Arwen! Seriously, up on his high horse like he's the damn boss of the world, or something. I mean hello, you're an elf buster, not god!"
Elle knew she had a serious case of word vomit, but she couldn't help herself from spewing out a couple of choice words in relation to the stick-up-his-ass blonde elf every few minutes. She'd relayed the entire story to Arwen about a hundred times, and she still didn't feel any better about it.
Arwen just laughed, raising her dark blue eyes to the treetops as if to ask the ancient beings for strength, "I'm sure it wasn't that awful. I have known Legolas all my life, he's never been anything but kind and respectful. Isn't it more likely that he was just honestly worried for your safety?" The raven-haired elleth replied as she fiddled with one of the white blossoms hanging from the trees above.
Elle snorted inelegantly, "No. He's a prick, and that's all there is to it. He hates me, because I fell on him or something. Or maybe he's just racist against humans."
The words were out before Elle could stop them, and she immediately realised her mistake.
Her laugh was dry and humourless as she corrected the slip up, "Sorry, wolf girls. Not humans."
Arwen laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, "Don't be silly. Elves are not racist toward anyone. Well, expect maybe dwarves at times. Though I suppose you are quite small..."
Elle laughed and nudged her friend playfully, "Shut up, just because all you elves are freakishly tall does not make me small. I'm of normal size, thank you very much."
Arwen grinned, "If you insist, pen tithen."
Elle's brow furrowed, "Hey, what does that mean?"
"I suppose you'll never know!"
They were both still laughing when Aragorn entered the gardens. He looked almost taken aback to find Elle there with her, but drew the courage to ask for a moment with Arwen. His dark hair fell rakishly across his forehead, green eyes swimming with an emotion Elle couldn't quite place. The elf sobered up quickly, and Elle made short work of extracting herself from the courtyard to give them a little privacy.
Those two were getting closer and closer, and the thought of them being together made Elle smile. Arwen had such a gentle soul, she balanced out Aragorn's more self-destructive nature perfectly. They brought out the best in each other, which was important in times like these. She only hoped that this war wouldn't end up tearing them apart in the process.
Dinner that night was uneventful. Sombre, really, as their troupe made the most of their last comfortable and decently fed nights with a roof over their heads. One more day, and they would venture out from the safety of these walls and into the unknown. The thought had Elle quieter than usual, and she retired early without more than a few words.
Something akin to jealousy ran beneath her skin as Elle watched the boys practise with their little shining blades out in the training yard that next day.
They were the same rusted contraptions Aragorn had gifted them with that dreaded night on the watchtower, and in that time looked to have grown no more efficient wielding them than when they had started.
Elle stifled a snicker as Pippin haphazardly blocked one of Merry's clumsy thrusts by throwing his own sword at it, and then promptly tackled his friend to the floor with a roar. With those kind of fumbling tactics, they were doomed if they ran into any sort of trouble early on.
The boys had quite sternly deemed that morning that they were in great need of brushing up on their sword play before any form of departing took place. Of course she'd quickly realised that by brushing up, they'd meant learning from scratch.
She'd only come along to the training yards because they'd begged her to, and she'd clung to the small hope that she just might be able to borrow a sword and hack around a little too.
That had been out of the question, however. The soldiers housed in the armoury had only stared at her with utterly blank expressions as they'd looked over her petite stature and flowing gown, as if they did not even understand the request. One even had the nerve to propose escorting her back to the gardens, so that she might practise her embroidery. It was unbelievable.
She wasn't that small.
Okay, so maybe she was a tad smaller than the female elves these men were used to fencing with, but she wasn't tiny. She was of average height for a human; lithe with a slim, hourglass figure compared to their willowy, straight and clearly athletically-superior women who very near towered over her.
Apparently, to their ignorant reasoning, Elle's size indicated her fragility like she were some delicate child or crushable flower. Well, at least, that's what Feriel had informed her after she'd blown up and demanded a reason. That was before they'd kicked her out onto her backside, anyway.
So now here she sat with the silent vartyo, glaring dully from the sidelines in one of the many decorative stands that seemed to have grown straight out of the ground in a twisting display of flowering vines and branches.
She was leaning back against a limb with an arm thrown over her forehead, squinting down into the dusty grounds with a pinched look on her face. Apparently, sunglasses hadn't been invented yet in Middle-Earth and she was paying for it dearly to keep the blaring sunshine from her eyes.
Elle pursed her lips and pouted, refusing to smile as Merry thwacked his friend on the backside with the flat of his blade in retaliation.
No, she was pissed off. She would not enjoy herself, not one bit.
It's not that women were forbidden to take part in sword play, archery and sparring or anything, after all the practice was firmly encouraged by most families according to Feriel. It was just not overly common for them to sit and watch when a tournament was not in place, and never had there been a human female here before.
And okay, so she wasn't technically human. But they didn't have to know that, did they?
Being discriminated against because of her femininity and race was the last thing she'd expected, and she resigned herself to another mindless day of sitting under golden trees, singing hymns and weaving god damn daisy chains. She didn't know how Arwen could stand this kind of life day in and day out, though she supposed she at least had the option of taking part in all activities. If Elle hadn't been dedicating all her time and energy into brooding as she sat picking at her freshly applied navy-blue nail polish and grumbling under her breath, she would have noticed the gathering number of male elves in the yard below.
Those present soon began dedicating their time on the field to drawing her attention with their brutal displays of strength and battle prowess, the clang of steel against steel and the constant twang of a bow soon filling the air.
She would have laughed, if she'd been aware enough to notice.
It just wasn't fair. Here she sat on the sidelines, while even Frodo had cool things like the Mithril vest and Elvish blade Sting to fight with. They were no bigger than children, and yet she couldn't even be trusted to handle a dagger.
Not that their little weapons were much more than that in the hands of those she watched fencing across the field. Frodo had been so proud, puffed up and grinning as he'd presented his new blade to her just a few hours ago. She hadn't had the heart to tell him the small thing couldn't really be deemed a sword in the literal sense.
"It's an elvish blade." He had declared fondly, "It will glow blue when orcs are near. Oh Elle, isn't it wonderful? Bilbo says its name is Sting."
She'd smiled and ran a hand down the intricately designed scabbard, "It's beautiful! How generous of Bilbo, that's such a thoughtful present."
She didn't think it wise to add that she'd remembered the blade perfectly from its time spent with his uncle some many years ago. She'd always adored the idea of naming a weapon, and as she sat with the hobbit and looked over Sting she found the dagger just as formidable and stunningly represented as she'd imagined.
"And, there's this." Frodo had went on, tenderly pulling a bundle out from his inner coat and opening it to reveal a vest of shining white and silver. It was breathtakingly beautiful and truly exquisite, made up of tiny gossamer chinks in a pearl hue that looked incredibly frail and fine-spun.
Elle had exhaled in wonder, running a hand over the smooth and silky surface, "Wow, Frodo, this is amazing. What is it?"
"It's Mithril. Bilbo said it would come in handy." Frodo had explained.
"Bilbo really went all out, huh?" Elle had grinned, helping him tuck the sword into this belt.
"Yes, I suppose he did. Do you know where Sam is? I want to show him too." Frodo went on, looking far brighter and healthier than he had all week.
"Sorry, no idea. Maybe he's at the hall? It's around lunchtime, he's probably grabbing a bite to eat." Elle had offered with a shrug as she stood from her crouch, "Got any clue where Sam is, Feriel?"
The shy elleth had just blinked and shook her head, sending her curls swinging madly around her pointed face. Elle had missed the queer expression on Frodo's face, her slang going completely over his head.
"He must be at luncheon, you're right." Frodo had replied quickly, "Thank you, Elle." The little hobbit had raced off before she could get another word out.
Elle sniggered, struck back to the present as Merry stuck his leg out and sent his friend face first into the dirt. At least she didn't need cable anymore to be entertained.
"Lady Elle, are you sure you do not wish for a cool drink? Or mayhap a shade, to keep you out of the sun?"
"Feriel, how many times do I have to tell you not to call me that? It's just Elle, you're not my subordinate or my slave. If I need water I'm sure I can find it. Just relax, enjoy yourself." Elle admonished the elleth kindly, "Take some time out to gawk at all the half-dressed elves out there. I'm sure at least one of them you'll find interesting."
Her teasing might have gone a little too far, as Feriel's pale skin warmed considerably and her eyes widened.
"That is quite improper, my Lady."
Elle grinned and leaned back, tilting her face to the sun, "Improper is the best way to be, trust me. And stop with the 'my Lady' crap. I asked you to hang out, not be my personal maid."
Elle peered out, bored, across the field until her eyes hit a flash of silver coming in her direction.
Narrowing her gaze, she flinched and sat a little straighter as the silver-haired elf rounded the bend in the ring outside the training yard. He had two squires in tow, both boys jogging to keep up with his long strides and laden with quivers, hand towels and even a water skin. Typical that a guy like that would have a bunch of lackeys to deign to his every will.
He murmured something unheard to one of his attendants and they rushed forward to provide him with a flask, which he used to splash across his face before tossing it back to the boy.
Legolas didn't look to have even noticed her there with Feriel, thank goodness. She did not feel like another maddening altercation with the likes of him, no matter how nicely his breeches hugged his backside.
"On second thought, I am pretty thirsty. Let's go get that drink." Elle shot up from her seat, turning her back on the elf who had taken up a dominant stance before the archery range, and made a hasty escape toward the pathway within the arced trees.
She wasn't going to wait around watching some asshole wave a bow and arrow around like he was something special. Merry and Pippin would forgive her later for disappearing on them, right now she just needed a glass of sweetberry wine and a long, relaxing bath.
Elle's hair was damp, freshly washed from her last thorough bathing before they left at dawn. She had no idea how long it would be before she would get another, her skin now pink from scrubbing and then rubbed down with rose oil.
The ends of her dark curls dripped against her lower back as Feriel ran a comb through the length, methodically separating it into sections before beginning a traditional full elvish braid.
The intricate style reminded Elle of a fishtail braid back home, but with smaller plaits and twists interconnecting at the crown and metal beadwork embellished throughout. It was beautiful work, and kind of Feriel to go to the trouble before their leaving.
Elle shuffled to the window seat once she was done, her bare feet grazing over dried leaves as she sat down and lifted the hem of her robes off the floor. She'd be glad to be rid of these opulent dresses, as beautiful and unique as they were. They just weren't practical for travelling, and Elle wasn't accustomed to wearing ostentatious gowns every day as if it were a normal thing to do. She'd have killed for a pair of sweats and a nice thick hoodie to stave off the evening chill, but would make do with the travelling clothes she'd requested.
They had arrived for her that afternoon, folded atop the trunk at the foot of her bed. It seemed like an age ago that Elle has asked Feriel to find her something to travel in that did not look like a Princess's medieval ball gown. Even the travelling robes she'd provided for her had looked like they'd be better off on the set of some 12th century theatre production.
She'd gone to Arwen after that, who'd helped her acquire a few simple tunics, britches and even an overcoat. Simple meaning by elf standards of course, the tunics were both lined at the collar and hem with silver thread in weaving celtic-like patterns, and the high-waisted britches had intricate little leaves carved into their shining silver buttons.
To complete the more practical attire Feriel had, by some miracle, managed to find a pair of soft leather knee-high boots in her size. It had looked near impossible at first, with elvish feet being a good 2-3 inches larger than her own, but she'd managed to find a pair pre-owned by a young elleth who'd left her childhood behind a few years ago.
It was kind of embarrassing that the only shoes that fit her were meant for what was the equivalent to a child within their race, but beggars can't be choosers.
The knots in her stomach hadn't abated, not even after the cheer and festivities of their last night's feast.
She'd started questioning her own sanity at that point. Was she seriously about to embark off into Middle-Earth in the company of four clumsy hobbits, a temperamental dwarf, one withered old wizard, two humans and a pompous, highhanded elf? Had she lost her mind in agreeing to this?
It's not like she could remember what was going to happen. All she knew was that this was going to be one hell of a long and perilous journey, and she was pretty sure a lot of death and horror was soon to follow.
Was this really her life now, worrying about whether or not she'd be alive by the end of the week?
With her long hair pinned and braided elaborately into one dark and curling mass, Elle fell back against her feathered mattress and wished Feriel a good night. Nothing but starlight broke the shadows as the young vartyo closed the door behind her, the moon casting an eerie glow upon the darkened room.
Elle looked to the stars as they began to peek through the dusk, thousands upon thousands lighting up the city almost as well as the sun, what with her newly acquired eyesight.
It was still so strange, so foreign to be able to see so well, especially without the comforting weight of her glasses. She'd always been short-sighted before, but now she'd wager she had better eyesight than any ordinary human. Perhaps not enough to rival the elves, but she now had her nose to counteract that.
But even with her newfound talents, Elle still felt a little out of sorts compared to the rest of the troupe. Each member had their own individual talents that they brought to the table, and years under their belts in handling a weapon. Even the hobbits had their little swords, and Frodo was even more formidable now with his uncle's gifts.
Elle, on the other hand, had no weapons whatsoever and Gandalf had insisted she had no need for one. He'd told her that such weapons were only a hindrance for a wolf, but Elle had a sneaking suspicion that the rest of the men had decided that arming a dangerous and volatile creature of evil might not be the best idea.
Well, she'd show them.
Not that she knew how she'd show them, since truthfully she really did have no ability when it came to sword play, but she'd figure it out. At the very least she'd prove she was no useless, psychotic woman who might turn on them the first chance she got.
Elle shivered as she slid beneath the covers, all too aware that this would be her last night in a bed for some time to come.
So why was it that instead of worrying about that, her mind kept drifting to the silver-haired elf, wondering where he slept tonight..?
The expression on Arwen's face was near wistful as she watched the Ranger adjusting his pack in the courtyard below their balcony. One pale and slender hand rested beneath her chin, supported against the railing as she leaned down to survey their departure solemnly.
Elle had been woken with the rest of the troupe at dawn, and was similarly arranging her new belongings within the rugged pack Radagast had given her when she'd first arrived beside the female elf. She'd yet to venture down into the clearing, her nerves on edge and spiking.
Elle ran her clammy hands over the tops of her fitted britches, going over the list in her head again to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything.
"Elle?" Arwen interrupted just as she checked for the dozenth time that she'd remembered to pack her shoulder bag with her belongings from home.
"Mmm?"
"Do you... Do you think you'll come back here?" Arwen murmured, turning her dark blue eyes on her.
Elle blinked, snapping out of her daze at the sadness in her friend's tone. She hadn't thought about how their leaving might affect the elleth, seeing as how she'd be staying behind.
"I don't know." Elle replied honestly, and as Arwen's pretty face fell she hurried to commend the statement, "But I'll do everything I can to see it happen. I knew nobody coming here, and you accepted me into your home so easily. You're an amazing friend, Arwen. I can't thank you enough for that."
Arwen's smile was near heartbreaking, her eyes alight as she clasped Elle's hands, "Thank you, Elle. That's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. I'll miss you, all of you..." Arwen's gaze flicked down into the courtyard once more, following the Ranger's movements as he left through a walkway.
"He's going to miss you, too." Elle whispered, knowing exactly where Arwen's thoughts had fled.
The elleth looked to her, taking in Elle's knowing look.
"You love him." Elle stated simply, and Arwen nodded once in reply.
Elle squeezed her hand and smiled, "He loves you too, you know. I can see it in the way you look at each other."
Arwen's lips curled into a small smile, "I know."
"Don't worry about him, okay? I'll keep an eye on him for you. You'll see him again."
Arwen's eyes shone and a sad smile tugged at her lips, "That means everything to me. Thank you."
Elle smiled and passed her friend a handkerchief Feriel had hurried to supply. Arwen dabbed at her eyes gently, before a short laugh left her lips.
"Back to more pressing matters. I truly can't picture what you've said in regards to Legolas, it is so out of character for him to act in such a manner. He's always been so courtly and polite in my presence..."
Elle huffed as she stood and placed both hands on her hips, "You're practically a Princess, and I'm a mangy mutt from another dimension. He has no qualms in puffing up like a peacock and strutting about giving unwanted and unneeded opinions in my presence."
"So I guess you're just dying to have more quality time with him, then? You do realise you'll be spending months together now, if not more." Arwen pointed out, grinning as Elle's face descended into horror.
"Shit, I never even thought of that." She groaned, "Oh no... I'll just have to keep myself busy."
"No more sitting on his lap then, I suppose?" Arwen teased in her soft, breathy voice.
Elle glared at her friend, "It's bad enough that he implied I'd wanted to fall into his lap, without you rubbing it in too. Thankfully the rest of the guys seem pretty cool, and I still have my boys to hang out with."
"Why do the... guys seem cool?" Arwen queried in confusion, scrunching up her face, "Are they not properly attired for the season?"
Elle chuckled, "I just mean the other men are nice, easy to get along with. Boromir is a laugh, and Gimli is too cute."
"A dwarf, cute? How odd." Arwen looked even more baffled than she'd begun, and Elle's dry chuckles turned into peals of laughter as she went back to her bag.
Elle was both frightened and excited. She was bubbling with anticipation, and her wolf was much more prominent in her mind. Once outside these walls she'd be back to keeping a firmer rein on her primal side, and would be under constant supervision.
She was grateful that Gandalf would be there this time. Something about the old man gave Elle a sense of comfort and safety she'd be loath to give up.
It was the elf she was worried about. Intuition told her he would be keeping one eye on her at all times, just waiting for her to slip up and prove his point. She glared at him down in the main entrance below as she buckled up her pack, his attention solely focused on his quiver as he tightened it across one broad, irritatingly perfect shoulder.
Yep, she'd definitely have to watch out for the likes of him. It was in her best interest that she kept her distance.
A chorus of wind chimes began to ring across the spires, signalling a start to the day. The noise stilled her movements.
"It's time to depart, Elle."
She turned, swinging her pack on as she faced her two new friends. She'd barely had time to get to know them, and already she was saying goodbye.
Elle wrapped her arms around Feriel first who looked like she'd been rolled over by a truck at the contact, she was so surprised. It took only a moment before two wispy little arms came around her and hugged her back.
"Take care of yourself, okay? And thank you for everything." She murmured into blonde ringlets before they broke apart. Feriel had tears in her blue eyes as she nodded fervently, tucking a dark curl that had escaped from Elle's elvish braid back behind her ear.
Arwen took her hand, leading her toward a small alcove.
"I have something for you." She whispered, pulling from the folds in her robes a beautifully folded scarf the colour of wine.
"Oh, wow, thank you." Elle replied with a smile, a little confused that her friend had felt the need to hide in order to give her this.
Arwen giggled, "Open it, you dork."
Elle grinned, Arwen had been picking up a few of her more condescending phrases these past few days. She obeyed, and inhaled deeply at what laid inside.
It was plain, simple, and yet exquisitely perfect. The dagger was no bigger than her forearm, and would easily be concealed on her person.
"Oh my gosh, thank you! It's perfect!" Elle tried not to shriek as she tucked the blade and it's sheath into her right boot. "I can't believe you'd get this for me."
Arwen shrugged, "You were so disappointed nobody trusted you with a weapon, and I know it's not much but at least you are capable of defending yourself now. I will rest easy knowing you are not unarmed."
"You really are the best, Arwen." Elle thanked her, as Arwen linked their arms and ushered her toward the stairs. It was with trembling knees that Elle descended from the balcony and into the front courtyard. The large double doors stood silent and still in the early morning light, the only barrier between this magical utopia and the dark and unpredictable world outside.
She kept her head held high, refusing to look weak before the men as she turned and embraced Arwen tightly at the bottom of the stairs.
"Be good." Arwen whispered fondly with a choked laugh.
"Am I ever anything but?" She retorted as they stepped back, a smirk on her face.
Arwen just chuckled as she wrapped the crimson scarf around Elle's neck.
"I'll miss you." Elle said.
"And I you, pen tithen."
Arwen took up her place beside three regal looking elves, a few metres away from where her father stood before the company while Elle turned to stand by Merry.
"The Ringbearer is setting out on a quest to Mount Doom. And to you who travel with him, no oath nor bond is laid to go further than you will." Lord Elrond began, hands folded before him as he surveyed the group, "Fare well, hold to your purpose. May the blessings of elves, men and free folk go with you."
Elle felt a chill go up her spine as the age old words were spoken, the doors behind them rumbling open the only sound that broke the silence that followed.
Elle took one last long and lingering look at the captivating city before them, at the golden sunlight pouring through trees that had stood in this spot since the dawn of time. It was beautiful, with all the elves in their grace and elegance standing before them on tiered balconies and walkways to survey the historic event.
This was the beginning, and Elle swallowed against the bundle of nerves building in her throat.
"The Fellowship awaits the Ringbearer." Came Gandalf's warm and resounding voice.
Elle squeezed Merry's shoulder as they all turned to follow Frodo, who led the procession through the main doors and out into the forest before them.
She barely caught the words he said next, but could have sworn Frodo had whispered to the wizard, "Is it left, or right?"
She could only smile, shake her head, and pray that her decision to come along on this journey hadn't been a foolish one.
Let me know what you all think, Reviews are the only gratification I get for this so it does mean so much to me. I know this chap isn't as exciting as some of them by way of action and whatnot, but there's so much to come now that they've left Rivendell! I'm so thrilled, it's much harder for me to write fillers than it is to do the big plot points.
Also, you'll quickly find her relationship with Legolas is not going to go anywhere for some time to come. She'll have more feelings for Haldir before she really starts considering Legolas. That's not to say there won't be some "moments" and definite attraction, just don't get too excited just yet!
Anywho, in regards to the ridiculously cruel and long wait: All I can do is apologise. After my uncle passed, another family friend died as well a month later who I grew up with as an uncle. So things have been really hard, especially since I've also started a new job, which is exciting but oh, so stressful. If anyone else reading this is also a travel agent, I now feel your pain! This job is nothing like I thought it would be! Hahah
I hope you're all happy and healthy, and that you enjoyed this chapter! Don't forget to tell me what you thought, even if it's in a PM if you don't want to publicly chat about it. I'm always here for a good talk about the story.
My love to you all,
- T
xo