Hey, everyone! Are you all paying attention? Good.

Why do I ask? Well, this chapter, though it seems like a filler, is actually VERY IMPORTANT! I won't tell you why just yet, but pay attention to what is said in this chapter.

Well, this one is also kind of on the short side, but like I said, it is important. So enjoy!

Disclaimer: I only own Fern, Philip, Hope, Hunter, and Chase.

Chapter 21: The Final Days of Peace

"Fern?"

"Yes, Hope?"

Hope turned to the elleth beside her as the two strolled through the halls of Rivendell. "Why did you join the Fellowship?" she asked quietly. "I do not recall you ever wishing for adventure when I visited you in Mirkwood."

Fern sighed, staring out at the gardens. "I am only accompanying the Fellowship to ensure that all goes according to the books," she answered simply.

"Ah. That would explain your remark at the Council."

Fern nodded, silence consuming the pair. The winter sun shone high in the sky, puffy white clouds dotting the wide blue expanse above the valley. The halls were still, most either walking in the gardens or practicing in the training grounds. Hope's gray eyes roved across the corridor, finally resting on a tall marble statue of a man dressed in armor. Long hair curled down his back, his stone face gazing calmly down at the plate in his hands. A cloth was draped over the dish, and Hope could see the glittering pieces of a shattered sword resting upon it.

"The shards of Narsil," she whispered, approaching the statue and gazing at the broken sword with reverence. Fern, however, kept back, confusion evident on her face.

"Aragorn did not take the sword with him?" she asked, worry evident in her voice.

Hope shook her head, turning back to face her. "Aragorn does not wish to be King. Taking the sword is a symbol of him accepting the Kingship."

"But he must take it!" Fern exclaimed. "It is his destiny to become King!"

Hope clenched her fists in frustration. "Do you think I have not told him?" she said. "Numerous times I have said it, and yet he always refuses. He turned away from that path long ago."

Fern passed a hand over her face, grumbling angrily. Without another word, the elleth strode swiftly away, presumably to find Aragorn. Hope just sighed, closing her eyes sadly. Fern would not fare any better than she at persuading the elder Ranger to take up the mantle of Kingship.

"What shall happen now?" she muttered to herself. "Without a King to lead, all shall fall apart. And I do not believe I have the strength or the bravery to endure through what I know will come."

~o*o*o*o~

"Come now, Philip! I have seen you do better!"

Philip glared at Boromir from his position on the ground, wiping the sweat from his face. The noon sun beat down upon the training grounds. Dust swirled in the air from the many duels the pair had fought, clouding the air around them. "You have bested me seven times already! Must you beat me again?"

Boromir chuckled, sheathing his sword. "I only wish to help you prepare for the quest ahead," he replied, grasping Philip's arm and pulling him to his feet.

"We shall be walking, not fighting every second of the way," Philip grumbled as he reached down to pick up his sword, knowing that his statement was mostly true. Of course, there were a few exceptions…

Boromir shrugged. "That may be true, but still, you should keep training."

"I know." Philip leaned tiredly against a wall, gazing up at his older companion. "I suppose a hero never stops, does he?"

"A hero?" Boromir questioned, raising his eyebrows.

Philip nodded. "I wish to be one someday. Like the ones that are in legend who lead an army to glorious victory in battle. I do not wish to be just an ordinary soldier fighting in a war; I want to be a legend."

"Then you have quite a way to go," said Boromir, grinning down at his friend.

"HEY!"

~o*o*o*o~

"Whoa! Easy, boy!"

Hunter reached out her hands, attempting to calm down the anxious stallion. Windstorm snorted and tossed his head, but eventually, he relaxed, allowing her to gently lay a hand upon his neck. "I know you do not enjoy being cooped up in here," she whispered. "You want to ride again, do you not?" Windstorm whinnied softly, rubbing his nose against her head like he always did when showing affection. Hunter giggled as his big lips tickled her ear. "Hey, hey!"

Softly, Hunter rubbed Windstorm's mane. "Do you remember our home?" she asked. "That big green field of grass, rippling in the summer wind? You and I would always go out riding during those days; no school, no worries." A wistful sigh escaped her lips. "Those were the times before we were thrown into this mess. Before Middle-Earth, before I learned of my heritage." Hunter shook her head sadly. "I would do almost anything to go back to those times." Seeming to sense her unhappiness, Windstorm gently nudged her head, snuffling her golden hair.

"He is a magnificent horse," a voice remarked. Hunter turned to see Hope standing in the stables, leaning casually against a pole.

"I know he is," Hunter replied, continuing to pet the gray stallion's neck. "I surely will miss him."

Hope strode to her side, laying a hand on her shoulder. "You needn't worry for him. He will be well cared for here."

"But he does not belong here," said Hunter, staring back up at the stallion. "He is no Elvish steed. Though he may be fed and ridden here in Rivendell, Windstorm will never be truly happy. This is not his home."

"So you are letting him go?"

Hunter nodded. "He was always a wild one. I know that he, more than anything, wishes to be free." She sighed, gazing down at the floor. "And though my heart aches to do this, I want him to be happy."

A small smile tugged at Hope's lips, her eyes flickering between Windstorm and Hunter. "I see now the connection between a horse and his rider," she stated. "It runs deeper than perhaps any friendship could."

Windstorm neighed in seeming agreement, nuzzling the Ranger's dark hair. Hunter laughed, grinning at Hope. "I believe he likes you!"

Hope chuckled in reply, reaching up to lay her hand upon Windstorm's neck. "Well, I am truly honored."

~o*o*o*o~

The tapestry hung in the Hall of Fire, disturbed by none. Five stars of varied colors shone in the center, surrounded by five figures. Though they differed in race, they all had strong, proud features, valor shining in their faces. Chase's eyes, however, were focused solely on the figure lowest on the tapestry: a tall, lithe Elf with dark hair and deep blue eyes that matched his own. Erynion seemed to gaze down at his descendant, his lips set in a thin line.

The soft sound of footsteps echoed in the empty hall. Hope silently sat down on the bench beside Chase, following his gaze to the tapestry. The orange light of the fire danced upon her face, glinting in her eyes.

Chase glanced at the Ranger. "Are you nervous?"

Hope sighed, nodding. "Indeed," she answered. "Tomorrow we leave on the quest. You know well of the dangers we shall face."

A pensive expression came upon Chase's face. "Perhaps not all is set in stone. Our purpose is to help defend Middle-Earth in its time of greatest need. Does that not mean we can change the course of fate?"

Hope chuckled softly. "Fern would have your head if you tried."

A comfortable silence settled upon the two, both gazing wordlessly at the beautiful cloth before them. The five stars seemed to sparkle in the firelight, the orange glow flickering across the pale faces of the five figures. Eventually, Hope spoke, rising to her feet.

"It is strange, seeing your ancestors regarded as legends," she said. "They surely must have been brave to undertake such a daunting task."

Chase too stood, turning to face the Ranger. "Many times have I heard Elladan and Elrohir speak of Erynion," he stated. "They say he was a fierce warrior and a find friend." The ellon sighed. "He did so much, yet I have done so little. I want to live up to his legacy; make him proud of what his descendant has done."

Hope gently laid a hand upon his shoulder. "You will live up to Erynion's legacy, Chase," she reassured him.

"How do you know?" he asked.

A faint smile appeared on Hope's face. "I know you."

~o*o*o*o~

December 25.

It was a really ironic date for Hunter. Most children wouldn't be doing what she was doing today. Most back on Earth would be waking up early, rushing to open the piles of presents beneath the sparkly, decorated tree. Most would be having a wonderful breakfast with their families, spending time playing in the snow or drinking hot chocolate around a warm hearth. They certainly wouldn't be leaving on a dangerous quest to save an entire world.

Nope; this was completely out-of-the-ordinary.

Hunter gazed at herself in the mirror. She was dressed in the same red tunic and brown breeches she had worn when fleeing from Rohan, her black leather riding boots pulled snug upon her feet. A dark green cloak was draped over her shoulders, and a small pack was strapped to her side. Swiftly, she belted the short sword Ėowyn had given her so long ago around her waist. A smile flickered across her face at the memory, but it soon disappeared. Her face set in a grim expression, Hunter silently strode out of her room, never once looking back.

Quickly she came to the courtyard where the Fellowship was to meet. Hope already stood there with Aragorn, clad in her old travel-worn clothes. Legolas was also there, quietly talking with Chase and Fern. All were dressed in the light leather rainment of the Elves, quivers filled with arrows strapped to their backs. Gimli and Gandalf stood off to the side, silently observing the others. Philip and Boromir soon joined them, and Philip, despite the gravity of the situation, was grinning broadly (for no apparent reason whatsoever). And then, one by one, the hobbits filed into the courtyard; first Merry and Pippin, then Frodo, and finally Sam, who was leading a stocky pony laden with supplies.

All fourteen of the Fellowship assembled together as Elrond stepped forward, a company of Elves behind him. Hunter recognized a few: Glorfindel, the golden-haired Balrog-slayer who had also helped train her, Erestor, one of Elrond's advisors and a good friend, and Lindir, another Elf who had welcomed her in Imladris. Hunter could see Hope and Chase gazing solemnly at the Elladan and Elrohir, the twins wearing identical grave expressions. Arwen stood beside her brothers, her eyes meeting Aragorn's.

"The Ringbearer is setting out on the quest to Mount Doom," Lord Elrond proclaimed. "Upon you who travel with him, no oath or bond is laid to go further than you will." The Elf-lord gazed somberly at those before him. "Farewell. Hold to your purpose, and may the blessing of Elves, Men, and all Free-folk go with you."

Ragged clouds hurried across the cold, grey, winter sky as the Fellowship of the Ring departed Rivendell. Gandalf led them south out of the city, out of the safety and comfort of the valley, and into the dangers and wild unknown. The Elenmír were solemn, scattered throughout the group, completely silent.

They thought they knew what the future held. They thought they were certain of the troubles they would encounter, the battles they would fight, the tragedies they would endure.

They were wrong.

So, did you pay attention? :)

I really like writing Boromir when he's with Philip. It's the happier side of him that you only get to see when he's with Faramir. In the movie, he was always so serious because of the Ring. Hopefully Philip will help him lighten up a little bit. ;)

Anyways, I am SO excited for what's coming up next! We're finally going to be getting to the major battles and such. There is so much I have planned for the rest of the story; I can't wait to write it!

Please review!