If I owned Lord of the Rings, this wouldn't be a fanfic. But alas, Tolkien owns Lord of the Rings, so this is fanfiction.
Ireth squirmed uncomfortably in the stone chair. People were glaring at her, which Ireth understood, because, if she was one of them, she would be glaring at her, too. First, she and Gandalf had run a little late, quite late actually, because she had insisted on procuring a dress for the Council. Then, when they burst into the middle of an impatient Council, Ireth discovered that Elrond had set out the exact number of chairs, meaning they were now one short. Ireth would have stood to the side but for Aragorn, who insisted that she have his chair. This then sent several council members into a tizzy, because it would be preposterous for Isildur's heir not to have a chair. So Aragorn kept his seat, as a elvish servant rushed to find another chair for Ireth, which due to one dwarf's insistence that asymmetrically arranged furniture made him ill, had to be identical to the all others.
Now Aragorn was shooting her apologetic looks, while the rest of the Council was shooting Ireth venomous glares. Gandalf's beard was twitching treacherously, leading Ireth to suspect he was laughing. She did not dare look to him, but Ireth had a sinking feeling that Elrond was resisting the urge to shake his head at her. Her cheeks burned as the hobbit, Frodo, placed a gold band on the pedestal.
The Ring of Power. Ireth's reverie snapped. Dimly, she was aware of people murmuring around her. The Ring oozed warmth and power. In her chair, Ireth leaned forward slowly, drawn in by the glimmering gold whispering to her in a soft, familiar tongue. With this, no one could call her a child. Elrond would respect her. With the power of this Ring, she could reach out and pluck the very stars from the sky. Ireth's fingers inched of their own accord down the arm of the chair. Before they could get far, Gandalf's cold hand clamped on her own with an iron grip. Blinking out of her daze, Ireth fell back into her chair. The wizard tightened his grip and leaned to her. "Brace yourself," he murmured.
The man, Boromir of Gondor, rose, his hawk like features darkened in a deep flush. "It is a gift...a gift to the foes of Mordor!" he exclaimed. Licking his chapped lips, Boromir paced slowly round the Council. "Why not use this Ring? Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, held the forces of Mordor at bay..." Ireth felt Gandalf's hand tense. "By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy...let us use it against him!" Boromir finished triumphantly.
The Council was still. From the corner of her eye, Ireth tried to gage Gandalf's reaction. He looked unfazed, but the hand that lay over hers was shaking. Little icy pinpricks crept down Ireth's back and tingled through to her toes. Gandalf never worried. Scowling, Ireth peered at blustering human through fringed bangs, but his expression was cloaked by his wild coppery hair. However, his fingers played just barely with the sword belt at his side. Arrogant man. She should-
"Ireth," Gandalf hissed, "You're on fire."
His whisper echoed around the motionless circle. With a gasp, Ireth looked down. Her fingernails had dug into the stone, and at each fingertip, little tendrils of flame licked at the chair arms. Ireth grimaced, extinguishing the miniature fire. Little ripples murmured around the Council, and several members, especially among the elves, stared at her. Ireth bowed her head to them. "Pardon me," she said. The spell was broken.
Smiling lightly at her, Aragorn rose to his feet and looked to Boromir. "You cannot wield it. None of us can. The one ring answers to Sauron alone...it has no other master," Aragorn reprimanded.
Boromir snorted. "And what would a ranger know of this matter?" he asked as he fiddled with his sword belt.
Before Aragorn could speak, an elf, younger than the rest, bounded up. "This is no mere Ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance," he said. The elf held Boromir's eyes evenly. Ireth cast a quick sideways glance at Gandalf, who had released her hand much earlier. He was unreadable. Warily, Ireth returned her gaze to the elf. While he lacked a human's bulk, the elf was lean and matched eye levels with the much more muscled Boromir. His pale blonde hair fell in the traditional elvish cut, highlighting his pointed ears. An earth toned cloak betrayed him as from Mirkwood. And the elf did not fidget.
Aragorn stepped between the man and elf. "Havo dad, Legolas..." he said, laying a hand on the elf's shoulder. Ireth's eyes drifted after Legolas as he returned to his seat. As conversation resumed, he leaned back in his chair, and, awkwardly, their eyes met. Even from across the circle, Ireth could see that they were a bright crystalline blue. It was hypnotic. Ireth could not seem to free her eyes from his spell, and Legolas just tilted his head and frowned at her. If it was some enchantment, Gandalf would free her from it, right?
Dazedly, Legolas rose to his feet. Blinking, Ireth shook her head to clear the strange haze filling it. Her chest felt unusually constricted, and she just knew it was his fault. As the Council faced Legolas expectantly, his pale cheeks darkened. "I- The ring! The ring must be destroyed!" he exclaimed. Tumbling back into his chair, Legolas glowered at Ireth before averting his eyes quickly. As she frowned at the floor, Ireth felt as if her own flaming fingers had burnt her face.
She sat quietly while the Council collapsed into race warfare and bickering. The elf she was pointedly not watching was buried somewhere in the fray. On his feet several minutes ago, Gandalf, too, was absorbed in the chaos. Catching Elrond being quite undignified, Ireth smiled into her hand. While Gandalf would be sore, Ireth waited on the sidelines of the developing skirmish and studied the Ring again. There was something about it… what it could offer…
"I will take the Ring to Mordor." The hobbit, Frodo, rose to his feet. The top of his curly head did not even reach Gandalf's shoulder, and Ireth could already see Frodo meeting his end as Nazgul breakfast. As Gandalf closed his eyes slowly, Ireth knew he was imagining the same. "Though...I do not know the way," Frodo mumbled.
Gandalf smiled, rooting Ireth to her chair. "I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear," Gandalf said. With numb fingers, Ireth carefully pinched her arm, because this was a dream. Gandalf was still perfectly sane, strange elves were not enchanting her, and she was not sitting in this Council right now. As she felt a burning throb, Ireth mashed her eyes shut. She reopened them. Gandalf and Frodo stood in front of the circle, and Aragorn, Boromir, Gimli, and that dreaded elf had joined them. The world was broken.
Ireth's feet, somewhere distant below her legs, dragged her to the men. She laid a hand on Gandalf's shoulder. "Mankoi ier lle sina?" she whispered.
Ireth stared up at him, but his face betrayed nothing. "You do not have to accompany me, wanwa hin," Gandalf replied. The wizard's eyes were planted on something above Ireth's head. After nine hundred years as her mentor, as substitute father, Gandalf was telling her to leave. It was hard to breathe again. She was cold and far, far away. Gandalf could not leave her.
"Without you, I would be lost," Ireth said as she sidled into the group of men. Behind her, Gandalf's mustache twitched noiselessly.
A reddish hobbit, Sam, as Ireth recalled, burst from the bushes in a flurry of leaves. As Elrond tut-tutted disapprovingly down at him, Ireth felt a pang of pity. "Mr. Frodo's not going anywhere without me," Sam wailed.
He shoved his way to an aghast, but apparently friendly, Frodo, and stood at his side with stalwart dignity. Before Elrond could continue, the second and third hobbits scrambled from their own bushes. "Oi! We're coming too! You'll have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us," one cried, as the other nodded approvingly.
"Anyway...you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission...quest...thing..." the other added.
Translations
Havo dad, Legolas...: sit down, Legolas
Mankoi ier lle sina: why are you doing this?
wanwa hin: lost child
Note: Many lines not spoken to/by Ireth are taken directly from the movie and are not my own creation. Don't sue me.
Soooo... did I mention reviews make me happy?