CHAPTER 3 October 24, 3018
The journey to the last homely house was long and tedious, but when they arrived, they could not help but feel their travels were well rewarded.
They entered the beautiful haven and took in their surroundings. The waterfalls, the Elven structures, and the colorful trees were breathtaking, just as Lothíriel remembered.
"It's amazing!" Amrothos exclaimed.
"Indeed," Boromir agreed quietly.
"Creoso, mellonamin," an Elf with a warm smile said as he welcomed the four travelers. "My name is Lindir. Lord Elrond is expecting you."
"I am Boromir, son of Denethor."
"Amrothos, son of Imrahil. And my sister Princess Lothíriel."
Lindir looked at the brother and sister.
"It is obvious you are of Elven descent."
"Somewhat distantly," Amrothos said.
"Be that as it may, your Elven bearing radiates and gives your ancestors away."
He looked once more upon Lothíriel and paused.
"Mellon," Lindir said to her. "You seem familiar to me. . ."
A moment of recognition came across Lothíriel as she recalled the Elf who had greeted her and her companions long ago upon her first arrival here.
Bowing in Elvish fashion, she said, "Lindir, I recall you from the days of my visit. I accompanied Gandalf and Thorin Oakenshield nigh sixty years ago."
Lindir bowed, "I remember well," he recalled with a grimace. Dining with the Dwarves and seeing them bathe in the Elven fountain had left a lasting impression.
"Mithrandir!" Lothíriel cried as she walked over to hug her friend.
"Lothíriel, I did not expect you to be here," he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
"She begged me," Boromir said glancing at the other people present.
Ganfalf bent and whispered to her, "I'm not surprised you found a way to become involved."
A tall, dark-haired Elf stood beside Gandalf and Lothíriel remembered him as Elrond, the lord of Rivendell. Accompanying them were three small children - or they seemed to be children at first glance - but they were Hobbits!
"Welcome to Imladris," the Elf said. "I am Elrond Half-Elven, Lord of Rivendell."
Introductions were made.
"We are honored to be in such a haven as this, my lord," Boromir said politely. "But I think we all desire to know why we are here."
"All in good time, Boromir," Gandalf said. "Now you must rest, and tomorrow things will be clearer than water from a spring.
"May I introduce Samwise Gamgee, Meriadoc Brandybuck, and Peregrin Took. Though they prefer to be known as Sam, Merry and Pippin. Hobbits of the Shire."
Gandalf continued, "There is a fourth Hobbit, and he is presently being taken care of."
"Why? Is there something wrong with him?" Irolas inquired.
"He was stabbed in the left shoulder by a Morgul blade on his journey here. Frodo Baggins." He looked meaningfully at Lothíriel as he said this.
Frodo! Bilbo's nephew!
"I am grateful of the chance to see this place again," Lothíriel said as she rotated slowly, taking in all of her surroundings. "It is breathtakingly beautiful here."
She stopped circling as she came to face the broken shards of Narsil, sword of Elendil. The book she held in her hand, she now clutched to her chest. "It must have been a great privilege to grow up here." She turned to face the man sitting behind her.
"A privilege, a challenge," Aragorn thought back to the isolation as a child. "A curse." His mind wandered to Arwen Úndomiel. "And a gift."
"You were well protected." Lothíriel sat next to him on the bench he was seated on.
"From the world and who I really was," Aragorn stated.
"What are you reading?" he asked.
"'Tis about Lúthien and Beren," Lothíriel replied, respecting Aragorn's subtle hint that he wished to change the subject.
"May I see it?" Aragorn asked as he took the book in his hands.
Gently turning the pages, Aragorn examined the story of how an Elf maiden gave her love to a mortal Man: Beren.
"Keep it," Lothíriel said. "I've read it many times over, and I know how you love the tale."
Aragorn set the book down in his lap.
Lothíriel sighed, mostly from exhaustion from the journey. "It's good to see you again, Aragorn."
"Likewise, Lothíriel," he said with a smirk.
She stood up and walked down the stairs and out the door of the stone memorial.
Boromir watched the man smile and talk with Lothíriel as if they were old friends. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but he could tell they were friendly. This was no first meeting. Boromir wondered who he was. Someone she had not seen in awhile probably. And yet, he seemed familiar with her. . .
After Lothíriel departed, Boromir entered the dark room, examining a beautiful mural upon the wall of Sauron and Isildur.
Amrothos and Irolas walked off to explore some of Imladris while Lothíriel decided to go to her room and unpack.
She walked to her room and sighed as she reclined carelessly on her bed. Huffing, she straightened to find herself facing a beautiful Elf. She had the longest black hair and blue eyes that were so full of kindness. This girl, too, seemed familiar.
"'Quel re," the girl said in a sweet, soft voice.
"'Quel re," Lothíriel repeated the girl's greeting, saying "good day".
"Manke naa lle tuulo?" the woman asked, inquiring where Lothíriel was from.
"Gondor. Lle?"
"Mirkwood," she said with a small smile. "Mani naa essa en lle?"
"Lothíriel."
"Amin Linwë."
"Linwë?" Lothíriel repeated. "I knew you seemed familiar! I met you long ago, during the desolation of Smaug. You are a friend to Legolas and Tauriel."
The girl gave a start. "Yes," she smiled in remembrance. "We saved you and your Company a few times from yrch. I remember well. Tauriel was keen on the dark Dwarf."
"Kili," Lothíriel offered sadly.
"Yes," Linwë frowned solemnly.
"How long have you been here in Imladris?" Lothíriel asked, breaking their moment of silence.
"A few days. We had a long journey."
Lothíriel looked at Linwë questioningly. "We? You did not travel alone then?"
"No. Me and four others have come to represent Elves. My Prince and friend, Legolas, and three of our Elven warriors from our realm," she smiled.
"I, too, came with companions. As representatives of Men. My brother, my friend, and cousin are with me."
Lothíriel then described her company.
"I hope you don't mind the sleeping arrangements," Linwë said.
"Not in the least," Lothíriel assured the Elf. "There are two beds, and, besides, I grew up with all brothers and I work in my father's army as a Healer. I could use some time with my own sex.
"What is to take place here?" Lothíriel asked, changing the subject abruptly. Her curiosity was renewed upon meeting Linwë.
"A secret council. We have not been given details, but we'll soon know what all this secrecy is about."
Lothíriel wandered Imladris (Linwë had gone to see Legolas) and took in the majesty of the place. She searched for Boromir, eager to hear his thoughts on what Linwë said about the council, and Amrothos told her Boromir had retired to his room to rest.
She found his room easily, but he wasn't resting. He sat hunched over on the side of his bed with his bare feet touching the stone floor, stripped to the waist, and his hands were buried in his hair.
"Boromir?" Lothíriel came in tentivly.
Boromir looked up then sat up straighter.
"Are you alright?" She came and sat beside him.
"I tried to sleep, but was awoken by a dream," he explained as he rubbed his face.
"A dream?" Lothíriel asked.
"Yes," Boromir answered. "The same dream every night. With a single riddle. I intend to bring it up at this council tomorrow."
"Let me hear it."
Boromir heaved a sigh before quoting:
"'Seek for the sword that was broken:
In Imladris it dwells;
There shall be counsels taken
Stronger than Morgul-spells.
There shall be shown a token
That doom is near at hand,
For Isildur's Bane shall waken,
And the Halfling forth shall stand.'
"Do you understand it?"
Lothíriel thought a minute about it. The sword that was broken; Narsil. And it is here in Rivendell; she had just seen it when she spoke with Aragorn. And tomorrow a council shall take place. . . But what is the token? Could it mean Bilbo's Ring? The one Gandalf spoke of? The next line was "Isildur's Bane shall waken". Of course, it means the Ring. But what Halfling could this riddle mean? Bilbo? Or perhaps his nephew?
"No," she told Boromir. "It makes no sense to me."
What do y'all think so far?