Aseli stood in front of an arched doorway, gazing up at two towering stone doors that displayed many intricate designs, enthralled by the sheer beauty found in all Elven things. Rivendell was perhaps Elrond's best accomplishment, she thought with a small smile.
She had arrived on horseback slightly after dawn that day, and been heartily welcomed by a close friend: Arwen. The half elf had become a trusted friend while Aseli was rehabilitating in Rivendell, tending to all of her needs with great care. In that sense, Arwen was just like her father, not hesitating to show hospitality.
"Go on, then," she mumbled. "I suppose I should prepare your horse and pack food and other goods if you are leaving so soon." Arwen was less than happy to learn that her friend would not be staying the night; in fact, she was outraged that Aseli would be setting off on the same quest Aragorn did. How could she let go of another loved one?
"Thank you," Aseli replied, her voice solemn as she placed a reassuring hand on her friend's shoulder. "I will be fine. I need you to trust me." Arwen looked up at this, pleading with her eyes. "I trust you. But you are ill." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "You could fall so easily."
Aseli sighed, looking away. She knew that her friend was worried and only trying to look out for her, but Arwen did not understand why it was vital for her to go. She had met with Elrond immediately upon arrival, and the great elf had explained how the ring had fallen into the hands of a hobbit, how the council had come to be, and what to expect in the coming journey.
But most importantly, he had recognized the importance of Aseli's participation. "I have to do this for myself," Aseli asserted to both Arwen and herself. She hesitantly pushed the doors open, entering Elrond's domain. The elf stood hovering over a large oak table centered in the room, pouring a liquid into a flask that stood balanced on the smooth surface. "Right on time," he commented, closing off the top.
"What is that?" Aseli inquired, eyeing the array of jars strewn about. Many were half empty and carelessly left open, releasing vapors and smells of different kids.
"This," Elrond answered, handing the flask to her, "has no name, but will help ease the pain in your back. It is a potent mixture, and I would not have more than one drop a day, in your case. For others, it can be an effective pain reliever and perhaps life saver if taken immediately."
"Thank you," Aseli responded after a moment, stunned that the elf would take it upon himself to give her such a remarkable token of Elven medicine. A sudden thought rushed into her brain and she stammered. "Will it, perhaps, I'm not sure-,"
"It cannot heal, but it can help," Elrond interrupted, knowing exactly what she had been wondering. She swallowed a lump in her throat; of course it couldn't. There was nothing Elrond could do now that he could have done then. "I trust that you will keep it with you always. There is no telling when it might become necessary."
"I will, of course," she muttered shamefully, fingers running over the stainless metal of the flask. "To where do I ride tonight?"
"Go back to the Ford of Bruinen. There are narrow hidden paths turning southwards that will lead you through the country. They were to hold this course to the west of the Misty Mountains for over a month, yet they set out only yesterday, so I suppose they have not gotten far," Elrond replied, motioning for her to follow him out.
"But these paths, are they not visible? Sauron has many eyes, not just the one at his tower," Aseli questioned, skeptic of the safety of traveling through the open country.
"These paths are known only to the elves of Rivendell. I have had my scouts search the surrounding area. Sauron's forces stay clear of the country, for it is rough and barren, riddled with cold blasts from the adjacent mountains and thorny bushes."
"I see. Does this fellowship, as you call it, know that I will be joining them?" The fellowship was a fitting term, for Aseli now realized the benefits many of its members brought. Gandalf was a wizard; his magic alone could be the difference between life and death. Aragorn, as Aseli had learned from Arwen, knew the land of Middle-Earth better than anyone else. The elf, Legolas, had been a captain of the guard in the Mirkwood Forest while Boromir of Gondor and the dwarf Gimli were known as valiant warriors. They would certainly make up for the strength the hobbits lacked.
"No, they do not. But once you join them, it is up to you to decide whether you wish to reveal your identity or not." Elrond now turned to Aseli with a stern stare, for he knew that she would be less than willing to explain all that had happened to her.
"I will not," she retorted with pursed lips. Was he really expecting her to tell a group of strangers that she, of Men, was immortal and once blessed with an unspeakable power now gone? Of course not.
"Then who exactly will you be to them? A ranger? An elf? Perhaps, a dwarf? They will question why a woman, of all living things, has come to join them. You mustn't lie to them," Elrond demanded, his voice mocking.
"I will tell them that I am a daughter of a man and woman from the realms in exile, both whom were lost. My father from Orcs, which, mind you, is not a lie, and my mother, from heartbreak. They need not ask me anymore and they will not care to, either," she stated boldly and cooly, glancing up at the great elf with a challenging look. She feigned confidence, however, for as she recalled her mother and father, she felt only an immense pain and sadness. But she would not be weak again; helpless in the presence of evil. She couldn't bring herself to retell the bitter humiliating tale of her past. What was the point? Her powers were gone, her life changed.
There was no doubt that her toils had left her stained with pessimism; a broken spirit that did not believe that happiness could ever be achieved once more for herself. But she would still fight for the happiness of the world, because she needed to redeem herself for the ones she lost. So in the end, it did not matter who she was or what had happened to make her so hopeless, but rather who she is and what was to come.
Elrond walked side by side with her in silence, to the clearing at the gates of Rivendell, where Arwen stood stroking Elasmer, who had been geared up and saddled in preparation for their departure. Dusk had fallen, and they were to use the cover of night to begin their travels. "I cannot control your actions. I only ask that you do what you believe is right. If you decide to live a lie and in turn, deceive those around you, I cannot stop you." Elrond's voice was softer now, but the disappointment in his tone was clear.
Aseli avoided his stare, busying herself with carefully packing the flask so it would not break. "How can you ask me to recount unspeakable terror that has left me traumatized? I will not do it, for they will see me differently, unfavorable and weak. Besides, it matters not. I cannot bend and I have lost those closest to me." Now she turned to him, matching his stare with one of her own. "It is best that we all forget, even me."
Elrond only frowned, his eyebrows knitting together as he spoke. "You shall go with my blessings, but I will not speak of this matter anymore."
Aseli only nodded, turning her attention to Arwen who handed her a single scabbard, holding a pair of twin broadswords - that were a specialty of her skills - together in one sheath. "These were packed dangerously loosely in your bag." It was true, for Aseli had brought them along only as an afterthought, uncertain of keeping close a belonging that held many memories. The weapons had belonged to her father, and been taken up by her at a young age, when she first began experimenting with her bending. With a half-hearted smile, she slipped the scabbard on, finding it incredibly easy to slip the swords in and out when needed.
Arwen wordlessly reached into the bag strapped to the saddle, pulling out a bundle of cloth. Nestled in the center were several boot daggers and smaller knives, all which Aseli wasted no time slipping into her shoes. The generosity of the elves could never be overlooked.
"These weapons are small but may become useful for an agile fighter like you, or so I have heard. Such a fighter deserves more," Elrond commented, pulling out a weapon of his own. "This is Ringil, the cold star. It is a sword of Elvish make, biting with chilling cold and glittering like ice. It was used by the High King of Ñoldor, Fingolfin. May its new owner have a better fate than its previously fallen." Aseli eyed it incredulously, surprised that the elf would ever offer such a valuable item, especially after already giving so much.
"Do not fear it, young rider. This sword wounded Morgoth seven times, even hewing his foot. It will protect you," he added, noting her hesitance in drawing the sword. When she did, a small gasp escaped her lips, suddenly captured by the shimmering metal. Bits of light reflected on the metal illuminated the air around it, giving the sword a magical aura of rarity that took her breath away.
"I cannot fully express my gratitude to you two," she said quietly, sheathing the sword. "Things have happened that cannot be undone, and therefore my life will never be the same again. But I thank you for trying to restore it." She paused for a moment, kneeling down before Lord Elrond and his daughter. "I do not know if I will return, but I will die trying to saving the world as we know it."
Arwen felt her heart break as her friend spoke, and wasted no time drawing her into a tight embrace, holding back the tears that threatened to fall. "I take back what I said before. I know that you will return," she whispered into her friend's ear. But both Arwen and Aseli knew that she was lying, for nothing was certain anymore.
"Wear your cloak. Be cautious once you lose the cover of the trees. Go with the blessings of Eru Illúvatar himself," Elrond announced, grimly watching as the woman mounted her steed. "Do not underestimate the good that can come out of honesty."
Aseli did not respond, tugging on Elasmer's reign as they began to head out. At the crossroads, the two paused, and Aseli cast a final look of acknowledgment back at Elrond before turning left and fading into the night.
"So we have reached Hollin, as the Men like to call it. It is best that we rest now until noon," Gandalf proclaimed as the fellowship came to a stop at a low lying ridge. As per the country's name, small holly trees lined the narrow hilltop, providing some cover from any undesirable eyes that would be in the area. With no disagreement, the group had resolved to travel at night and rest during the day, finding thorny thickets here and there in which to nestle themselves for ample sleep.
"Eregion was its former name, back in an age when Elves were these lands' inhabitants," Legolas proudly added, lending a hand to Gimli, who struggled to climb over a rock.
"So strong are these winds, and sunless are the days, that it is no surprise to me that even the Elves have abandoned this place," Frodo stated, his piercing blue eyes scouring the deserted land with scrutiny. "I cannot help but feel as if someone or something is out there."
"I feel it too," Aragorn commented, drawing the attention of the careless hobbits and Gandalf himself. "There is something unsettling about looking back at the way we have come."
A brief silence drifted across the others as each felt an uncomfortable shiver run up their spine. If the ranger from the north - who knew this land in the dark - felt as so, it was reasonable for them all to be concerned.
"I would not put too much thought into such things, Aragorn. The path we take is unknown to those outside of Rivendell. Even then, Sauron would not expect us to trek through such open territory," Gandalf reassured, taking a seat on a small boulder as he pulled out a pipe. "Now, do not be so fretful. Be glad that we have made it this far."
The others turned away slowly, beginning to busy themselves with the task of setting camp up, pulling out supplies from the packs that Bill the pony carried. Soon enough, Sam, the kindest of the hobbits, had gotten a fire going and hot food cooking with it. A mere half hour later, the nine sat huddled together in a circle, making light conversation as they feasted on what food they could. At one point, the elf Legolas, with his keen senses and all, quietly put his plate down, moving to peer out into the distance from behind a holly tree. A gust of wind whipped by, and he was mildly surprised to see the ring bearer's observations to be true: a certain darkness masked the land, similar to that seen prior to dusk.
But the darkness had not been his concern, for he, too, felt something coming, almost as if it had been following them. His gaze was urgent this time, studying the small hills they had traveled past last night.
And then – he saw it, a black horse, thundering down the exact path they had taken, its rider dressed in black. He squinted at the figure, confused: a black horse and rider, yet he did not feel the presence of dark magic. Calling back to the others, he drew his bow, placing an arrow expertly aimed at the nearing shape. "A lone rider in black approaches!"
Gimli was the first at his side, huffing as he pulled out his axe and gave a mighty roar. "Let the wretched ringwraith come so I may bury my axe in its face!"
The others, save for Gandalf, quickly rushed to the sides of the ridge, unable to see the rider as clear as Legolas. "Merry, get the others back to Gandalf and stay there!" Aragorn demanded, and the frightened hobbits did as told, huddling at the other end of the ridge behind Gandalf, who was strangely unconcerned.
By now, the rider was heading straight for them, face hidden by a cloak and looking down at the ground.
"Come no closer!" Gimli bellowed, and threw out his heavy axe with such astounding force that the sound of it slicing through the air was audible even to the hobbits who sat back cowering in fear.
The rider's gaze snapped forward, and with a simple pull of the reins, the horse launched itself up into the air, its sheer speed and momentum driving it up and through the air in a fantastic leap over the weapon – before rapidly slowing as it came even closer.
Legolas was dumbfounded, quickly drawing down his bow, now that he could see. "That is no rider. That is a woman."
The others backed off a couple steps, sheathing their weapons and glancing at each other incredulously as the horse came to a stop, and Aseli gracefully dismounted Elasmer, pulling the hood back from her head as she did. She placed a hand on Elasmer's muzzle, stroking him with pride as she snapped her gaze to the astonished dwarf. "Little dwarf warrior, your axe almost lodged itself in my horse." She then looked up at the elf, taking a moment to eye him with scrutiny. "And why can't a woman be a rider?"
"Ah, my old friend," another voice spoke up, and everyone turned to the old wizard who came shuffling over to his companion, gratefully wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "This is Aseli Celetholrin, who has come to assist us in our quest. I am surprised that none could recognize her steed to be of the Mearas, the greatest horses of Middle-Earth." Aseli gave a small smile as she sized up the fellowship, realizing what a fright she had caused as the men shifted uncomfortably, and the hobbits looked like they were going to cry.
"M-My apologies, my lady. I-I did not know. Please, forgive me, for I did not know who you were," Gimli stammered out in embarrassment and regret. What if he had injured the horse? It would have been unforgiveable, for the Mearas were rare, so special that its kind could understand the speeches of all living things.
"That is quite alright. Luckily for you, Elasmer is quite clever, with a mind of his own," Aseli replied with a half-hearted smile. "I suppose you should go fetch your weapon." The dwarf blushed a thousand shades of red, mumbling to himself as he hobbled off in pursuit of his lost axe.
"Now, come along. Sam, get this young woman some food on a plate, will you? We shall talk as we continue our meal," Gandalf announced, gesturing for the others to return to the campsite where they had left their plates and belongings strewn about. Aseli self-consciously took a seat next to Gandalf, crossing her legs and playing with her thumbs as she watched the others uneasily return to their seats.
Once all had begun to finish their meals in silence once again, Gandalf spoke up. "Aseli was a personal friend of the late Radagast, and therefore a good friend of mine. She is quite the swordfighter, for a woman who is not expected to ever even wield one. Her presence was requested at the council, but instead she volunteered for the quest. I suppose that is sufficient to answer your uncertaintities," he finished with a cautious glance at her, telling her that he knew that they were not to know any more about her unless she said so herself.
"How did you find us?" Aragorn asked unexpectedly, and the others turned to her in sudden interest. After all, it was a legitimate question. How had she managed to find them? Sure enough, Lord Elrond had told her of the path to take, but their exact location?
"Your fire burns too bright," she retorted, gratefully taking the plate Sam had offered her. Without a word, Boromir put the said fire out, emptying the water in his flask out onto the flames, effectively extinguishing it in seconds.
"Hey! That took time to get going," Sam protested, glaring up at the man. "And now we will be cold!"
"We cannot take any chances, young hobbit. The Nazgul are cursed to always be drawn to the ring, and thus they will always be near. Surely, as you all were brave enough to promise yourselves to this quest, you will be able to go without a little heat and hot food," retorted Aseli, biting into a delicious sausage. A small smile played on Gandalf's lips, while the others were hushed by her response, exchanging looks of surprise at her bluntness.
"We can," Legolas replied. "But these hobbits cannot. They are only children; how can you ask that of them?" His voice was steady; his tone serious and straight-forward, asking out of honest curiosity, but Aseli narrowed her eyes at him anyway.
"I do not ask anything of anyone. I simply gave you all a piece of my mind. It is not up to me to decide anything," she shrugged, continuing to fill her stomach with the mouth-watering food. Elasmer and her had traveled nonstop for the past day, tracking the group to the best of their ability. Only a day had gone by, yet she was starving and parched from no rest.
"Enough," Gandalf finally said, drawing her gaze to him. "We continue through Hollin at noon. Finish your meals and get on with your rest, for we will not be stopping for any sleep deprived nuisance who spent their break arguing over such petty things." And with that, the great wizard shuffled to his feet, muttering to himself as he headed off in search of a thicket upon which he could lie.
"Aye, we will need our strength as we near the mountains," Boromir announced, beginning to pile up the dirtied tin plates. A final stack was left mounted next to the now soggy campfire as the men and elf walked off, deciding the rounds of taking watch. The hobbits nervously tended to the plates, intending to clean them off, but Aseli stopped them, suddenly pitying the little creatures. "It is fine. Go get some rest. I will take care of it."
"Now, that's not proper at all, Miss–," Sam began, reaching for her empty plate.
"I said I would take care of it. If you could, please see to it that the horses can rest," she interrupted, gesturing to Elasmer and the pony that stood grazing by the trees.
"Very well," Sam answered, bowing his head and the others followed suit.
Aseli silently set about cleaning the plates as much as she could, using sweet-smelling cleansing water that the elves of Rivendell had given the fellowship. Once the plates and other cooking ware had been packed away, she glanced about, a small smile appearing as she spotted each person sleeping; except for the elf, who stood far off at the edge of the ridge, seated with his back to the others.
Wiping her hands on the cloak she had draped around her shoulders, Aseli quietly walked towards him, when she happened to step on a twig. The resulting snap set the elf about her, and he jumped to his feet in surprise.
"Sorry!" she blurted, eyes wide in embarrassment. "I didn't mean to frighten you."
He stood there for a good second, staring at her with his head slightly tilted, as if he was amused by her.
"What?" she asked, clearing her throat. She stood next to the elf now, and noticed how he towered over her, as if he were a young tree. She could still feel his gaze on her, and out of the corner of her eye, she could see his apprehensiveness of their proximity.
"I cannot shake the feeling that you are not all that meets the eye," he murmured, sitting down to lean his back against a holly tree. His reply caught her off guard, and she felt awkward now, immediately regretting her decision to approach him.
"I don't have anything to hide," she quipped after a minute, crossing her arms as she turned and left, nerves getting the better of her.
"Yet you saying that is what makes me more suspicious," Legolas responded once she was out of earshot. "Only those who hide are adamant that they do not."
A/N: So this took me longer than I planned. I thought a weekly updating thing would be going on, but unfortunately, that's not the case. School is kicking my ass and there is constantly so much work that I might only be able to post once a month. But, we'll see how things go and I am definitely not giving up on this! Hope you enjoyed this part, I know a lot happens, but I wanted to at least establish an interaction between Legolas and Aseli.
They don't really get along that well, do they? Let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!