The House of Elrond in Rivendell, and How we Came to Be a Part of a Fellowship

And now…let us step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure.

-Albus Dumbledore

21 October 3018, of the Third Age

30 Winterfilth 1418, Shire-Reckoning Time...

There is not much to tell about the arrival into Rivendell, except the beauty of the place. Elaborate designed architecture was etched into the forested mountainside and set in a beautiful waterfall filled valley. Frodo was there, asleep and healing, and we were not allowed to see him. For three days, Merry, Pippin, and I paced the elvish city, admiring the sights and ignoring harping stares from the fair people. However, Sam would not stoop so low to let his master be without him for a minute. He snuck inside so often that Lord Elrond and Strider had to let him visit. But for all else, it was a solid "NO."

24 October 3018, of the Third Age

3 Blotmath 1418, Shire-Reckoning Time...

I let the elves see me in my dirty red dress and cloak, until at last they could not stand it and told me kindly I could bathe myself and my dress. It was my first bath in nearly two weeks, and I was relieved to feel the warm water and I blew bubbles from my nose, letting my hair float around. The suds in the water, and the fluffy towels as I dried made me feel light as air. Till Pippin pounded on the door, that is.

"Don't open the..." I cried. He pushed it open a crack.

"Frodo's awake!" he cried through the door. Finally he scampered off, letting the door slam behind him.

Hearing the words, I didn't care Pippin had interrupted the peace. I was dressed and on my feet and running, rushing towards Frodo who was walking with Sam; Frodo hugged each of us in turn, smiling like it had been years since he'd last seen us. And he looked tired, too...

Then he caught sight of Bilbo, and the reunion was complete. We left Frodo with Bilbo and the Red Book and went off to find something to eat. Sam stayed behind to pack his things, since we'd be going back to the Shire soon.

"Back to the Shire," I said happily, in between bites of elvish food and sips of tea. It was so dainty and eloquent, the food, the dress, the people. Too eloquent. I kept getting looks from the elves who strolled by. A hobbit? Aye, that was a queer thing to see, little people, but a girl? So far from home? What possessed her to leave the sanctity of her household and husband, everything she knows to be…? I had second guessed my choices at the accusing stares. Perhaps I should have listened to that note, after all. To be home again! Back where I belonged! I took a long sip and swallowed. "Ah…that'll do wonders for me…"

"Aye, it shall," Merry said with a happy sigh and sank deep into a soft chair, smoking Pipe Weed. "I'd say we'll be back in Bag End by tomorrow evening latest," he continued. "I shall love to be back…smoking some, drinking some at the Green Dragon…" He whispered his fancy's name, "Estella," and I burst into giggles.

25 October 3018, of the Third Age

4 Blotmath 1418, Shire-Reckoning Time...

The next morning Frodo was summoned to a secret council meeting that was sure to last hours, and Sam went with him as always, watching from afar, while Merry, Pippin and I made up games to pass the time. We were impatient for it to end so we could start off home. But eventually we, too, went to listen in on the Council meeting, considering that we would not be allowed in.

"Why sit around when we can break the rules?" Merry grinned, grabbing my wrist and jerking Pippin's arm. "Come on, then! There's nothing there that we aren't going to learn from Frodo!"

Around Elrond sat elves and dwarves and men and Gandalf and Frodo and Strider. Elrond named them all. There was Gimli the red-headed dwarf with his double-bladed axe, son of Gloin of the Lonely Mountain. Gloin was there, too. A fair elf with long blonde hair and blue eyes, dressed in green, and carrying a beautiful bow and quiver was named Legolas; The Prince of Mirkwood. He was taller than the men and I stared in wonder at the beauty in his face, and his smile...truly elves were the fairest race. I was humiliated suddenly, to be called a hobbit. Strider was named as Strider, and Gandalf as Gandalf, and Frodo as Frodo Baggins, The Ringbearer. The other man there was big and burly and garbed with blue, red, and silver. He was called Boromir, son of Denethor the Steward of Gondor in the White City of Minas Tirith.

The titles meant nothing to me; they just made my head spin. It was only Frodo we wanted to see, anyway. As we peered, Frodo arose from his seat and placed his ring on a pedestal, where everyone stared in awe.

"So it is true…" Boromir said.

"The Doom of Men," whispered hushed voices.

Boromir shook his head in disagreement as he held his hand up and stood ahead of the Council. "It is a gift. 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! Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy; let us use it against him!"

"What is he talking about?" I whispered to Merry.

"The ring, I think," Merry replied with a shrug.

"Tis not a weapon!" I exclaimed, a little too loudly, and Pippin threw his hand in front of my mouth. "Just a ring…" The scraping and crashing of a chair jerked us all to attention again, frightened and excited at once.

Strider jumped to his feet, his eyes flashing. "You cannot wield it! None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master."

"And what would a ranger know of this matter?" Boromir's arrogant reply made me want to smack him in the face.

Legolas jumped up next. "This is no mere ranger! He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance!"

All three of us gasped, and we quickly muffled the surprise as not to be discovered. We listened further, to discover who Aragorn son of Arathorn was and what it meant.

"Aragorn? This…is Isildur's heir?" Boromir asked with disgust.

"And heir to the throne of Gondor!" Legolas stated proudly.

At this point, there were too many questions to further understand what was happening in the Council, so Merry, Pippin and I began a discussion about Strider where I had to recite the verses several times, but not before we heard another statement from Boromir about Strider being royalty.

"Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king," he said.

After another hour of boring, quiet conversations, the discussion became heated and the Council began to argue and yell at one another. Finally, we heard Frodo's little voice burst out above the rest.
"I will take it!" He cried. "I will take the ring to Mordor."

Everyone stopped and turned to look at the little hobbit who was volunteering to do such a task, including Merry, Pippin, and me, openmouthed ourselves.

"Though," he added, looking fearfully around him. "I do not know the way."

Gandalf joined his side. "I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, so long as it is yours to bear."

Strider…or rather, now Aragorn, also walked to Frodo, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder. "If by my life or death, I can protect you, I will. You have my sword."

"And you have my bow," elegantly Legolas added himself to the group.

"And my axe," said the dwarf Gimli, eyeing Legolas with distaste. Even a hobbit such as I knew dwarves and elves did not get along.

Boromir gave Strider a look as well, before telling Frodo, "You carry the fates of us all little one. If this is indeed the will of the council, then Gondor will see it done." So Boromir joined as well.

"Hey!" Cried a small voice, and Sam burst out of the shrubbery. "Mr. Frodo's not goin' anywhere without me!"

Elrond sounded amused as he bent over Sam. "No indeed, it is hardly possible to separate you even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not."

Merry looked utterly determined as he nodded to Pippin and me. "Oy! Wait!" He called as we three ran from behind our hiding place to stand beside Frodo. "We're coming too!" Merry looked sternly at Elrond as he said, "You'd have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!"

Pippin tried to defend our decision to join the travelers, as he looked at me, completely serious. "Anyways, you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission…quest…thing."

"Well that rules you out, Pip," Merry sniggered. Pippin looked heartbroken.

"Nine companions," Elrond said.

"Ten," I whispered.

"So be it," he said with a look in my direction. "You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring."

"Did you hear that?" Merry asked in a loud whisper, and a stupid grin. "We're part of the Fellowship!"

"Great!" Pippin grinned. "Uh…where are we going?"

With a glance at Pippin, Merry scratched his head and the rest of us basked in the awkward silence of a genuine curiosity. We didn't know where Mordor was.

"Seriously," I said.