CHAPTER 4 October 25, 3018
"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old. You have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor." The regal Elf, Elrond, looked around at everyone present at the council. As did Lothíriel.
There was a fair amount of people; more so than she had expected. The chairs were arranged in a semicircle; Aragorn starting on the left edge of it. Two Elves followed, and then came Irolas, Amrothos, Boromir, then Lothíriel. And to Lothíriel's right sat five very bearded Dwarves, one of whom was her old friend Gloín. Then came two men seated next to a few Elves, one being very handsome, indeed. Legolas Thranduilion. Lothíriel remembered him clearly. She also took note as to whom sat next to the beautiful Elf: Linwë, who stood out with her dark hair amidst the three blond Elves. And then sat Gandalf and an attractive dark-haired Halfling on the very end.
"Middle-Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom." He motioned to the pedestal in front of him. "Bring forth the Ring, Frodo."
The dark haired Hobbit did as he was told and cautiously approached the stool and set the trinket down precariously. Audible gasps were easily heard as this great token was presented.
"So it is true," Boromir said aloud, raising his hand to his mouth in quiet astonishment.
Shifting uncomfortably at his words, Lothíriel stared at the facade. She felt Boromir stir next to her and inwardly panicked as he rose.
He glanced quickly around him as he spoke.
"In a dream, I saw the Eastern sky grow dark." He started walking slowly towards the pedestal. Towards the Ring. "In the West a pale light lingered. A voice was crying, 'Doom is near at hand.'"
Boromir continued stepping closer to the stand.
"Isildur's Bane is found."
Closer. . .
"Isildur's Bane. . ."
His hand was outstretched. . .
"Boromir!" Elrond yelled, but his cry was cut off by a booming voice followed by storm clouds and a dark atmosphere.
"Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul!" Gandalf stood slowly and menacingly as he stormed towards Boromir continuing his citation in the Black Speech. The Dwarf next to Lothíriel was shouting in panic and Boromir was backing away as Gandalf continued his rant.
"Ash nazg thrakatulûk! Agh burzum-ishi krimpatul!"
Boromir sat firmly down, Elrond had a hand pressed to his brow as if he had a headache, and everyone else let out the breath they had been holding as Gandalf released the darkness.
Elrond looked angrily at Gandalf.
"Never before has anyone uttered words of that tongue here in Imladris!"
"I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond," he spoke in a gruff voice, low from his anger, "for the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner if the West." He swung his staff around with one last furious look at Boromir. "The Ring is altogether evil." He spat his last words and sat down.
"But it is a gift."
Gandalf looked at Boromir with contempt and exhaustion.
Why must he press on? Lothíriel wondered. Mithrandir had had his say in the matter. Boromir would do well to listen.
"A gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this Ring?" Boromir stood up and addressed the people present. "Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe!"
Aragorn shifted in his seat and looked over at Lothíriel. Lothíriel tried to make eye contact with Boromir to tell him to stop speaking. For his own good. Boromir was making an enemy of himself.
It was true what he said; being the closest to Mordor, it seemed like it was Gondor's duty to protect and ward as many enemies off as possible. Gondor practically rested on its front door. But the Ring would not help. It would only draw every ounce of anger out of Sauron. Gondor would be their primary target.
"Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy," he continued. "Let us use it against him!"
Aragorn, annoyed, said, "You cannot wield it. None of us can."
Boromir turned slowly to Aragorn.
"The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master."
"And what would a ranger know of this matter?" The sneer on Boromir's face was unmistakable.
Just then, Legolas stood; his tan, velvet cloak swaying.
"This is no mere ranger," he defended in a low, silky voice. "This is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance."
Boromir slowly turned to the so-called Aragorn in slight shock mingled with loathing.
"Aragorn?" Boromir said.
Aragorn merely stared at the man.
"So this is Isildur's heir?" Boromir looked Aragorn up and down.
"And heir to the throne of Gondor," Legolas said ferociously.
There. He said it. Now Boromir knew who's presence he was in. Lothíriel could tell that Boromir was enraged. True, he had good reason to be upset with Aragorn. If he returned to Gondor, Aragorn could renounce her uncle, Boromir's father, and take his rightful place as king. But Boromir was not aware that Aragorn did not want that path; he never had. Aragorn was a good man and dependable leader, but Boromir was protective of his father and was quick to judge, and he would not be too happy when he would find out about Aragorn and Lothíriel's friendship. Especially since Lothíriel desired Aragorn claim his kingship.
"Havo dad, Legolas," Aragorn commanded gently, and the Elf obeyed. Legolas sat down and watched Boromir make his way to his seat.
Glaring at Aragorn and Legolas, Boromir said, "Gondor has no king." He seated himself, not taking his eyes off of Aragorn. "Gondor needs no king."
Boromir slouched moodily in his chair and continued glaring at Aragorn.
"Aragorn is right," Gandalf said, with a nod of his head in Aragorn's direction. Aragorn sat with fists clenched and jaw firm. "We cannot use it."
Lord Elrond stepped forward.
"You have only one choice: The Ring must be destroyed."
Many exclamations of disappointment and frustration were heard from all over the court. Boromir just slouched further into his seat. Lothíriel was relieved. That would end Boromir's newfound obsession with this Ring.
Just then, one of the Dwarves by Lothíriel stood suddenly.
"Then what are we waiting for?" He swung his axe forward and smashed it onto the pedestal. The sound of metal on metal rang out as the Dwarf was thrown backwards off of his feet.
The top of the pedestal was covered with metal shards from the Dwarf's axe. The weapon was completely destroyed, but the Ring remained intact. Not even a scratch.
The Ring was now whispering words that were unintelligible to Lothíriel.
Elrond raised an eyebrow.
"The Ring cannot be unmade, Gimli son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess," he said.
"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." The Ring continued to whisper. "One of you must do this."
There was a silence in which people shifted uncomfortably or glanced at others as if they expected them to volunteer for this task.
"One does not simply walk into Mordor."
All eyes turned to Boromir.
His hand was lightly pressed to his brow, and he was speaking in an soft, irritated fashion.
"Its Black Gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. And the Great Eye is ever watchful." He formed a circle with his right hand to signify the Eye. "'Tis a barren wasteland riddled with fire and ashes and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly."
Legolas stood up abruptly.
"Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond just said?! The Ring must be destroyed!"
The Dwarf that was knocked down earlier, Gimli, Gloín's son, yelled at Legolas.
"And I suppose you think you're the one to do it!"
This time Boromir replied, standing also.
"And if we fail, what then? What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?"
"I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf!" the angry Dwarf spat.
Chaos broke out. Legolas' men and Linwë stood as did the dwarves, and they all bickere furiously. Gimli shouted, "No one trust an Elf!", and Linwë, highly offended by this, started cursing in Elvish at the dwarve.
"Amin feuya ten' lle!"
While Gandalf stood up and made his way over to Boromir yelling at him, Lothíriel stood, also marching up to her cousin. Boromir looked at Gandalf for a moment but turned to Lothíriel as she yelled, "What are you doing? Look what is happening! The Ring will destroy Gondor, it must stay far away!"
Mithrandir cut in.
"Do you not understand that while we bicker amongst ourselves, Sauron's power grows? None can escape it! You'll all be destroyed!"
Everyone was arguing now. Linwë with Gimli. Legolas, his Elves, and Amrothos with a few other Dwarves. Only Aragorn, Frodo, and Elrond remained unheard.
Linwë: "Dolle naa lost!"
Boromir: "Lothíriel, it will reclaim our honor!"
Gandalf: "He will wipe you all out!"
Legolas: "Dina!"
Lothíriel: "Oh, Boromir, you can't see past your own pride and your father's blindness!"
Gimli: "You petty Elves know nothing!"
Frodo was staring at the Ring. It was talking to him. Calling to him. Whispering.
"Ash nazg durbatulûk. Ash nazg gimbatul."
He could take the arguing no longer.
"I will take it!"
Each Elf, Man, and Dwarf heard the small Hobbit's cry, and one by one the arguments stopped as each person now looked at Frodo in surprise.
"I will take the Ring to Mordor."
He looked around at all the faces staring at him as the impact the mission he had just volunteered for hit him.
"Though," he said more timidly, "I do not know the way."
Gandalf cleared his throat and walked toward Frodo with a slight smile that reminded Lothíriel of a proud father.
"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear."
He stood behind the Halfling and put his hand on his shoulder.
Aragorn stood and walked up to Frodo.
Kneeling down he said, "If by my life or death I can protect you, I will. You have my sword."
Lothíriel caught Mithrandir giving Lord Elrond a small wink and smile.
Then Legolas stepped forward gracefully.
"And you have my bow."
"And my axe."
The red-headed Dwarf Gimli stood next to Legolas as Legolas let out a sigh of exasperation.
Lothíriel approached Frodo with a smile as she said, "And you have my bow and sword."
Linwë walked to Legolas' side and she smirked at him as she said, "My arrows and my life shall protect you."
They all looked up expectantly at Boromir as he slowly walked forward. Lothíriel frowned upon him with suspicion.
"You carry the fate of us all, little one. If this is indeed the will of the Council," he cast a glance at every face around him, "then Gondor will see it done."
A flicker of a smirk appeared across Lothíriel's face as Boromir came to stand next to her.
"Here!"
The Council members looked about them as a new voice called out to them.
Emerging from a small plant came Samwise Gamgee in a full run. He skidded to a stop next to his master and crossed his arms stubbornly.
"Mr. Frodo's not going anywhere without me."
Elrond looked upon the pair with amusement.
"No indeed," he mused, "it is hardly possible to separate you, even when he is summoned to a secret Council and you are not."
"Oi!"
Elrond turned around rapidly and his eyebrows went way up as two more Hobbits ran to Frodo's side.
"We're coming too!" Merry insisted. "You'd have to send us home all tied up in a sack to stop us."
He then turned to wink at Lothíriel and Linwë, who then looked at each other in amusement as they giggled.
"Anyway," said the slightly shorter Pippin. He had a delightful accent. "You need people of intelligence on this sort of. . . mission. . . quest. . . thing," he finished in surety.
Merry turned to his cousin saying, "Well, that rules you out, Pip."
The group that had volunteered to accompany Frodo on his long journey stood proudly in formation as Elrond looked them over.
"Eleven companions. . . So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring."
"Great!" Pippin said in excitement. "Where are we going?"
Is it worth continuing? Any feedback would be great.