Chapter Four
The following morning, a group of elves, men, and dwarves assembled in a secluded meeting place with Imladris. The meeting was not to start quite yet, so they spoke amongst their own groups.
It was in this time that Gandalf walked to the meeting with Elrond himself. "She isn't here," the elf lord said, looking around at the assembled group.
"Give her time. She never comes early," Gandalf said. He sounded confident, more so than he should be with such an unpredictable person.
"I wish I could be so confident," Elrond lamented. He had not known her for nearly as long as the wizard had.
"Your confidence would be misplaced, Elrond," a quiet, strong, feminine voice said from behind them.
Gandalf whirled around to see a small figure in a dark purple cloak striding towards them confidently. "I thought you would come, Anariel," the maia said, smiling as he strode over to her and held out his hand for her.
She took it in her tiny, pale hands and looked up at him. "Always such great expectations, my dear Mithrandir," she said, shaking her head to show her amusement.
"Yet you never disappoint, my Dove," he returned, placing his other hand lightly on her shoulder for a second.
Anariel smiled softly, though it was hidden by her deep hood. A second later, she said, "I do believe we are preventing this meeting from beginning. Perhaps we should take our seats."
Mithrandir and Elrond nodded. The former squeezed her hand once before taking his seat beside a Halfling who looked unusually elvish. The latter gestured for Anariel to follow him to her seat on his right.
By the time Anariel was seated, everyone else was as well because they had seen the Lord and the wizard enter with her. Elrond stepped forward toward the middle of the circle of chairs and said, "Strangers from distant lands, friends of old, you have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. 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. Bring forth the ring, Frodo."
At this point, the Halfling she had noticed earlier stepped forward and placed a plain, gold ring on the pedestal in the middle. The second she saw it, Anariel's muscles tensed. She grasped the arms of her chair tightly and tried desperately to look away from it.
Quite suddenly as Elrond took his seat besde her, a man in dinstinctly Gondorian clothing stood up and said, "So it is true." Anariel looked carefully at him. Something was off in the way he said that. "In a dream, I saw the eastern sky grow dark, but in the West a pale light lingered. A voice was crying, "Your doom is near at hand. Isildur's Bane is found."" As he spoke, he stepped toward the pedestal with his hand outstretched. He spoke again, quieter this time. "Isildur's Bane."
Just as the man was about to take the Ring, Elrond leapt to his feet and said warningly, "Boromir!"
A dark voice filled the air with chanting. Anariel recognized the voice immediately. "Olorin!" she said warningly. As she did, she grasped the arms of her chair still more securely, trying in vain to block the fell voice from her mind.
Gandalf leapt to his feet and began to chant as well. Clouds gathered over their heads and thunder boomed above them as the two voices said,
Ash nazg durbatuluk,
Ash nazg gimbatul,
Ash nazg thrakatuluk,
Agh burzum-ishi krimpatul.
In this midst of this, Elrond looked back at Anariel, for she was likely the most affected by this. Through the arkness of her hood, he could see that her face was drained of all colour, and her eyes were glazed over in pain, horror, and memory. He noticed her hands clenching the arms of her chair and immediately set his over the top of them. It did not help.
The second Gandalf had finished speaking, the clouds spread out across the sky once more. Boromir and Gandalf took their seats while Elrond watched Anariel closely. She blinked, and suddenly her eyes were back to normal. She looked up and met his concerned gaze. "Usinome, mellon nin," she whispered. (I am fine, my friend.)
Elrond nodded before turning to Gandalf and saying sharply, "Never before has any voice uttered the words of that tongue here in Imladris!"
"I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond, for the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the West! The Ring is altogether evil!" Gandalf returned. The last was obviously a warning for Boromir, which the man, of course, disregarded.
Boromir stood once again and said as if nothing unusual had happened, "It is a gift." Upon hearing this, Anariel looked up in astonishment. Just as quickly, she realized what the true problem was: the Ring was taking a hold of him already. "A gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this ring? 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." And the Ring speaks again in 3, 2, 1. "Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him." Just like that.
Another man with dark hair and eyes stood quickly and said, "You cannot wield it. None of us cane. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master." My goodness you've grown, Aragorn. Last I saw, you were knee high.
"And what would a ranger know of this matter?' Boromir asked with contempt in his tone.
A blonde elf about five people to her right stood up and instantly defended Aragorn. His features were definitely not high elven or grey elven. Mirkwood. Perhaps Thranduil is finally taking an interest in things beyond his own borders. The blonde elf said, "This is no mere ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance."
"Aragorn? This is Isildur's heir?" Boromir asked. His voice showed surprise and awe, though he tried to cover both emotions.
"And heir to the throne of Gondor," the Mirkwood elf said firmly.
"Sit down, Legolas," Aragorn said pacifyingly. Legolas? Has it really been that long? I didn't even recognize him! Legolas obliged.
Boromir sat as well. As he did, he said, sulking, "Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king."
"Aragorn is right. We cannot use it," Gandalf said, trying to get them back on topic.
"You have only one choice. The Ring must be destroyed," Elrond said ominously.
Everyone sat silent and unmoving for several seconds before a dwarf with long, wavy, red hair jumped to his feet. "Then what are we waiting for?" He hefted a large axe of dwarvish make above his head and brought it down with all of his strength upon the Ring as it sat on the pedestal. Just as quickly, the dwarf was thrown back as his axe shattered on impact. Two people flinched from the same thing: the image of an eye of flame in their minds.
Once again, everyone was silent. Elrond broke that same silence by saying, "The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess. 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. One of you must do this."
A heavy silence followed this ominous declaration. Boromir spoke again, though this time his point was valid. "One does not simply walk into Mordor. 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. It is a barren wasteland riddled with fire, and ash, 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 once again and declared forcefully, "Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed!"
Gimli stood and and said suspiciously, "And I suppose you think you're the one to do it?"
Boromir interrupted that spat by asking, "And if we fail, what then? What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?" Anariel tensed at this. You have no idea of what you speak.
"I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an elf!" Gimli exclaimed vehemently.
As suddenly as the pauses had come, the council broke down into a squabbling bunch of opinionated people, all intent upon making everyone believe exactly as themselves. Anariel pursed her lips in distaste, opting to remain in her seat rather than engage in pointless yelling. After a few seconds, there was no chance. That decided her upon a course of action.
Quite suddenly in the midst of the pandemonium, a powerful voice shouted louder than any of them had heard before, "SILENCE!" Everyone went silent in the wake of that call to order. They all turned to look at the woman. She was hidden from their sight, except for her height. She was tall as an elf.
"Every minute you argue, Sauron is another minute closer to conquering the whole of Middle Earth. You must decide now. You must decide now, else we will all be slaves to his will," she said. Her voice had a hard edge to it, just as her voice was powerful and strong.
A deafening silence closely pursued her words, striking everyone with a sudden fear to intrude upon this quiet in the wake of her powerful voice. Seconds passed. They soon turned into minutes as all stood, but no one dared speak.
Finally, a small but resolute voice said, "I will take it."
Quick as lightning, everyone turned to the person who had spoken. It was Frodo, the Halfling who had brought the Ring to Imladris. "I will take the Ring to Mordor. Though, I do not know the way," he said.
Gandalf walked over to the halfling's side and said kindly, "I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear." He placed a hand on the Ringbearer's shoulder.
Aragorn stood and walked over to kneel in front of Frodo. "If by my life or death, I can protect you, I will," he said seriously. As he rose, he said, "You have my sword."
Legolas stood and walked over to join them. "And you have my bow."
Gimli, not to be outdone by an elf, joined them as well and said, "And my axe."
To Anariel's chagrin, Boromir stood next and said honestly and without influence from the Ring, "You carry the fate of us all, Little One. If this is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done."
Suddenly, a shout sounded from the bushes, "Hey!" These same bushes parted and a slightly plump hobbit raced over to Frodo's side. "Mr. Frodo is not goin' anywhere without me!" he insisted. A loyal companion.
At this, Elrond had to smile. "No indeed. It is hardly possible to separate you, even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not."
Two more voices, simultaneously accompanied by running hobbits, called out quickly, "Wait! We are coming too!"
Elrond whipped around to stare bewildered at the two hobbits who also joined the growing group.
One of the two hobbits declared confidently, "You'd have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!"
The other finished by saying, "Anyway, you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission, quest…thing."
The other one quipped back, "Well, that rules you out, Pip."
Elrond, meanwhile, looked at the new array of people who would be going along with the Ring. As he did, he said musingly, "Nine companions…So be it! You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!"
One of the hobbits said, "Great! Where are we going?" Anariel turned away and shook her head.
Now that everything was decided, people began to leave in pairs and trios. Anariel slipped out quickly, but not quickly enough for Elrond to catch her and ask her to go on a walk through the gardens. He wanted to talk.