I've added in some parts from the book, such as the sword being forged again at the very beginning of the journey, and Elrond deciding on the members of the fellowship, and it taking a while before everyone went off on the quest. Please enjoy.

Unlike my sister, I found myself able to keep out of matters that I had no control of, or part in. When I was told Frodo was in good hands, I believed what I was told, and let him rest until he woke again, healed. When Mother and Father insisted they could handle Bilbo's arrangements on their own, I let them do as they wished. When they said they would be attending the counsel the next day, I nodded and accepted it. Rivendell was a place of rest for me, and I could finally feel my twisted nerves uncoiling.

The library was a great comfort, and soon I was finding private corners of Rivendell to indulge in their literature, or admiring the place in general, for it was a very naturally beautiful location. Fali said she did not see much of Strider, who seemed to seek out privacy as much as I did. I however, had noticed him about. That is always the problem with people who seek privacy, they always find each other.

The time I had come across him was shortly after those called forth to the counsel had arrived. I had already had a happy, and long overdue, greeting with my 'uncle' Gloin and witnessed the joyous reunion of him, Bilbo and my family. Mother and Brimli, his wife, were much pleased to see one another again after years of only letters, shedding a few happy tears. I had taken a book under my arm and was seeking a quiet chair, when I saw him from afar, reading as well. "The shards of Narsil." Another person, a man, said. "The blade that cut the ring from Sauron's hand."

I paused then, and dared to look around the corner to man with red hair, dressed in the clothes of one who is of higher rank. He stood before a statue, which held the shards of a sword. He ran his hand along the edge of the blade, the way a man does when he inspects a sword to gage its worth. His hand flinched back soon. "It's still sharp." He muttered to himself, having cut himself upon the metal. Strider stared at him from over the top of his book and the man caught the stare. "But no more than a broken heirloom." The man said, seeming to have not been interested by the artifact in the first place.

I understood his reaction, having fallen under Strider's gaze during our travels. I felt as though I was not doing anything right either before him, especially after I had narrowly escaped the attack of the Wraiths.

The man quickly returned the shard he had carried to its place. As he turned to leave the piece lost its balance and clattered to the ground. He hesitated to return to it, but brushed it aside and left. I frowned at him a little. Yes, it was a broken sword…but it still meant something.

Strider stood and retrieved the shard, placing it back on the tray the statue held out. I was about to go forward and speak with him, when the lady Arwen approached from the opposite hall, and I had to duck back out of sight.

"Why do you fear the past? You are Isildur's heir, not Isildur himself. You are not bound to his fate." Wait a moment…heir? Strider was an heir? Heir to what household, to what land?

"The same blood flows in my veins. The same weakness." Strider replied to her and my mind raced to remember the name of his kin she had just spoken. Isiltur? Isilmur? No, no, no…Isildur. That name, did I know that name? I had read it before surely, for it passed through my mind, lighting up the distant corners of my memory. Had it been this book, in my hands? Yes. It might have been. I skimmed through the earlier pages of the book. Isildur, Isildur, Isildur…At last I spotted the name. It was in but a footnote at the bottom of a page. Isildur, King among men, the one who cut the Ring from the hand of Sauron, with the blade Narsil. A hero to the peoples of Middle-Earth, he had a significant role in defeating the great evil that plagued our world.

King? Strider was the heir of kings? Who with a sound mind and royal blood in their veins would name an heir of kings Strider? Strider was not a fit name for someone of such rank. Strider was hardly a name at all. Rather a name given by companions, heartfelt but unserious.

"Your time will come. You will face the same evil, and you will defeat it." She continued in elvish, and my recent reading of the translation scrolls allowed me to understand it partially. Something about a shadow not yet swaying.

"Thank you." Strider nodded. I was too busy thinking of the possibility of him being 'Prince Strider of such-and-such-land' to notice that Arwen had departed, and now Strider himself was making his exit, passing the statue holding the blade and coming around the corner to find me. "Master Gideon?" He noticed me soon.

"Strider…" I stumbled for words, becoming caught in the act of anything rendered my tongue to be changed to lead it seemed. "I was…reading, and…I was…here and I was…" To make my word fumbling even worse I bowed my head to him, some voice in the back of head screaming out that I had to be respectful to those also of royalty. If Vesper had been beside me now she would have been able to explain our presence with the outright truth. Or laugh at me. Or perhaps smack me upside the head. "Milord." I said quietly.

Strider seemed to sigh. "Rise Master Gideon. I do not deserve such a title."

"Your lineage would suggest otherwise." I rose all the same, as he directed.

"You overheard the lady Arwen and myself?"

I nodded. "The lady cares for you very much, if I may say so. I am not fluent in the language of the elves, but what she said sounded heartfelt."

"I am honored to have her affections." Strider admitted. He glanced at me seriously. "It does not become a man to spy in the shadows, Master Gideon. You should not fear to make your presence known, especially in a house of peace. You do nothing wrong by simply walking in these halls."

I nodded, silent, accepting the advice without complaint.

"Good day, Master Gideon." Strider bid farewell and then began to exit in the same direction as Arwen had gone.

"Good bye Strider." I said, and then after a moment, before he disappeared, "Is that your real name?" Silence followed my question. "I cannot think of many heirs who would be named 'Strider'. Is Strider only an alias?" Strider said nothing, and continued walking. "You shouldn't fear your true name." I said. "I know what it's like to be disheartened by your name. The first and only time I ever won a spar I was nine, or what Men would consider nine." I frowned, not liking to talk so openly of my childhood, though most everyone I knew had heard of it all already. "Everyone said I had great potential, but I never lived up to it, I think. I could never win. In fact the only time I did was when I was having a duel with this boy, and it was all by accident. In truth, I was terrified of him. And in the end of it all, I couldn't even stay mad at him and I became his friend because I felt badly for him. I'd make a horrid warrior. But I haven't changed my name because of-"

"I am known as Aragorn."

I stopped. "That is the name of a great man." I replied.

Aragorn nodded, and the two of us went our separate ways. I did not see him again until the day of the counsel. I told no one, not even Fali, of his true name. He would tell her when he felt the need to. Fali and I had not been invited in the strictest definition, rather we had come with our parents and stayed, seated upon stools behind Frodo, to which no one argued, so long as we were quiet and there only to support our friend.

Sam, Merry and Pippin, not having parents that were invited, and with us already filling the category of moral support, had to find other means of attending. In other words, they were hiding in the bushes.

It does not become a man to spy in the shadows…

I looked over to Aragorn, who was waiting for the counsel to begin. His noticed my brief stare, and despite the show of trust between us earlier, I found myself still lowering my gaze in spite of the fact that were both of noble blood. I still felt I did not match him. He was man who had seen the greatness and danger of the world, and I had only read of it behind the safety of parchment and ink.

Fali was whispering quietly to Frodo. "It will be alright. Lord Elrond is very wise, everyone here is. They'll think of something. They'll know what must be done."

Frodo nodded, staying quiet in his chair. "Thank you Fali." He whispered back. "It is good of you to come here."

"Where else would I be?" Fali gave him an encouraging smile.

"It's good of you to join as well Gideon." Frodo nodded back at me. I had never been as close a friend as Fali was to him, but I still held him as a companion.

"I am as eager as the rest of us to finally see the conclusion of this." I replied, truthfully.

"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old." Lord Elrond spoke, and all the people attending hushed their private conversations. "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." He continued upon the gravity of our situation. Everyone bore serious looks, and I had never seen Mother, Father, or Thorin look so intense, sitting stiffly in their chairs, their faces near emotionless. They looked like proud, strong kings and queen.

Elrond called upon Frodo to bring forth the Ring, and he stood up, glancing a bit nervously around himself for a few short seconds, before he placed the Ring upon a pedestal before us all. There was a soft murmur among everyone, finally seeing that the evil object was in fact before them. Frodo seemed relieved to not be holding it any longer and seated himself again.

One man, the one with the red hair I had encountered before, stood and spoke of a strange dream he had, foretelling of doom. He called the Ring Isildur's bane, and moved forward, his hand beginning to hover over it. In fact, now that the Ring was out in the open, everyone was suddenly more on edge, and a little more focused upon the pedestal than they were before. It was as if the golden object was drawing us all in.

"Boromir!" Elrond said warningly, standing now.

Gandalf began to speech then, as the nobleman, Boromir became alert once more and sat down. It was not in any language I knew, but I understood by the eerie darkening of the sky above us that it was a black speech. It wasn't until halfway through the chant that Gandalf was using that I realised there was an echoing, dark voice within my ear, speaking also this language I could not understand, and I felt something like cold, bony hands grabbing at my shoulders, though no one was behind me.

When Gandalf finished his chant the voice died away, and I glanced nervously over to Fali. She had a look of fear and confusion on her face, which probably reflected my own. Her eyes said it all…she had heard a voice as well.

"Never before has any voice uttered the words of that tongue here in Imladris." Lord Elrond was surprised by Gandalf's chant, and disapproving of such a phrase being uttered in his peaceful halls.

"I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond, for the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the West." Gandalf briefly apologized. "The Ring is altogether evil." He concluded, to which I agreed with him. Already this tiny object was attempting to prey on the minds of lords, kings and other nobles, the wise and just men of their territories.

Boromir spoke again, calmer than before, and with a small tone of hope in his voice. "It is a gift. A gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this Ring?" He suggested. "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!"

It was a good enough idea, in theory, but in practise I had my doubts. Beside me Fali was barely containing a glare at Boromir, but thankfully remaining quiet. The other members of the counsel spoke of the possible outcomes of such a plan, both the good and the bad. Their voices were beginning to grow in volume from the number of people talking at once.

"You cannot wield it! None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master." Aragorn stood, and the discussions going on stopped.

"And what would a ranger know of this matter?" Boromir asked, as his idea died in the silence that followed.

"This is no mere ranger." An elf stood now. "He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance." He tried to respectfully remind Boromir of Aragorn's heritage. One could not mistake a tenser tone in his voice though, from which I deduced the elf had likely met Aragorn before.

"Aragorn? This… is Isildur's heir?" Boromir asked, a little surprised.

"And heir to the throne of Gondor." Legolas said. Aragorn looked as though he was sighing to himself, and said something to the elf, which must have been for him to sit down.

"Aragorn?" Fali asked me in a whisper. "That is his true name? He is heir to Gondor? Why didn't he tell us?"

I said nothing, merely shrugging.

"Gondor has no king." Boromir replied to the news. "Gondor needs no king."

"Aragorn is right. We cannot use it." Gandalf calmed the matter, making the decision for all of us.

"We have only one choice. The Ring must be destroyed." Lord Elrond agreed.

There was pause, and the Gimli, who I recognized from my earlier years as Gloin's son stood. "Then what are we waiting for?" He took up his axe, and in the straightforward, rougher nature of a dwarf, took a strong swing of the weapon, which landed soundly upon the Ring. The full force of the act caused him to be thrown backward as the edge of the axe broke into shards.

The Ring sat there, unbelievably intact.

"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess." Lord Elrond explained. "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."

Mount Doom? Mordor? I shivered on my stool, and Fali had to place her hand on my shoulder to calm me as my heart raced at the thought of such a mission.

As if to mirror my inner thoughts Boromir spoke grimly to the counsel, saying "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." I could see it all in my mind, a thousand and one ways in which to die at the gates or in the dark soil, most of them involving quite a few holes being punctured into whoever the unfortunate being was. "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."

At this, I felt something within me stir, something beyond fear, something far darker. It was as if the Ring was responding to the idea, wanting more than anything to return to Mordor. The tension in the air escalated. Suddenly an argument arose between various parties, some loudly stating their thoughts, others trying to calm things down. The Ring sat shining in the middle of it all, and had it been a person, I was sure it would have smiled rather smugly at all the chaos. Chaos was what it wanted…what it needed in order to manipulate others…

"I will take it!" I was wretched out of my thoughts, my glance breaking away from the wicked Ring.

"Frodo!" Fali spoke louder than she had the whole time, grabbing him by the elbow, but he shook her off.

"I will take it." He repeated. Silence echoed as they all stopped, astonished. "I will take the Ring to Mordor…though I do not know the way."

Gandalf stood. "I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear."

"If by my life or death, I can protect you, I will." Aragorn rose. "You have my sword."

"And you have my bow." The elf who had spoken before stood.

"And my axe." Gimli got to his feet. Gloin watched him with round eyes.

"You carry the fate of us all, little one." Boromir joined them.

Just as I thought everything was falling into madness, more of it ensued. "Hey!" Sam leapt out of the bushes. "Mister Frodo is not going anywhere without me!"

Fali had a look on her face, one of firm friendship and loyalty and a courage that sparked and burned with great intensity. I placed my hand on her shoulder and held her down with all my strength, watching my family across the half-circle we were in and praying that one of them would not rise. To my relief, though they exchanged a few glances, they did not. They were not as young as they once were, and seen adventures enough for their lives.

Merry and Pippin burst out of hiding next and stood at either side of Frodo. "Wait! We're coming too!"

Lord Elrond held up his hand, stopping the apparent rush of volunteers. "You are all very brave." He said. "But this is a matter that must have thought. I will consider what is best for a successful outcome to our purpose."

"You'd have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!" Merry exclaimed, fighting for a spot in the forming brotherhood.

"Anyway you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission, quest… thing." Pippin tried to add in a bit that made him appear as enthusiastic.

"Well that rules you out Pip." Merry rolled his eyes.

Fali was having great trouble remaining quiet, and I was thankful when Elrond dismissed the counsel before her temper burst and she either joined them or flared up at me. The parties began to depart. Gloin rose and spoke with the blond elf, even bowing before him, perhaps apologizing for some of the outbursts in the midst of everything.

She shot me a glare. "I just didn't want you to…" I tried to calm her.

"Not now." She said stiffly. It was obvious she felt torn and hurt, and angry. She wanted to go and help Frodo, she had wanted to volunteer to Elrond with the others, and she hated being retrained so.

She left my side and went to go and release her emotions upon Sam, Merry and Pippin, demanding to know just what they were thinking.

I stood there, the only able-bodied young man who was not going off to speak with Lord Elrond, and feeling the gazes upon my back for it.

/

I saw Aragorn again in the halls, this time as I turned a corner on my way to retrieve a book, entering a courtyard. Aragorn held a sword in his hands, one that shone brilliantly. "Master Gideon." He greeted.

"Master Aragorn." I dipped my head a little. "That is your sword?" I asked, not recognizing it as the one he used on our journey from Bree to Rivendell.

"It was given to me by Lord Elrond." He explained. "It is the blade Anduril, reforged."

"The broken blade?" My eyes grew in size as I tried to piece the shards together in my mind.

"Yes." He nodded. "An heirloom…at last returned to its heir."

"You accepted it?"

"For the purposes of this quest." Aragorn answered.

"You do not want it?" I asked. "But it belongs to you, doesn't it?"

"In name." He answered. "In deeds done and in fitness to rule, we shall see."

"I believe you have done plenty of good deeds to deserve it." I replied. "Fali spoke endlessly of your travels and triumphs on the night of our arrival in Rivendell."

"How is the young princess of Erebor?" Aragorn asked me. "Last I saw her she was scolding our hobbit companions."

"Fali is a bit headstrong." I admitted quietly. "She has been friends with Frodo since he was very small, and she wants to help him again. She spoke with Lord Elrond about joining the fellowship he is choosing."

"Has he accepted her?"

"He listened to her with great patience but he has made no decision yet. Being a lady…it is an image that works against her."

"If she is anything like I have heard your mother to be, she will only keep trying."

"She has." I nodded.

"And what of you Master Gideon?"

"Me?" I blinked. "Oh no. No, no, no. I couldn't do something like what Lord Elrond and you have in mind."

"You do not think so? Fali said you were quite good with the sword."

"She says that, but I don't think I am good enough for a great quest like this. She told Lord Elrond of me…but he has not said anything of me either."

"Gideon!" Fali appeared suddenly. She tossed me my blade, which I had not touched my whole stay in Rivendell, and unsheathed her own. I caught the blade, but did nothing, a bit surprised by her sudden actions.

"Fali, what are you doing?" I asked.

"No one in this city will spar with me." She said, and swung at me. I took a few steps backward, out of the path of her sword and farther out into the courtyard. "C'mon. Let's have a go at it, shall we?"

"Fali, must we? Now?"

"Why ever not?" She replied, punctuating her answer with another sound strike. I blocked her quickly. "This courtyard is perfect for it. I have all the energy I need, as do you."

"Fali, can't you ask Father or Mother?" I asked.

"No." She shook her head simply. She made a particularly impressive move, which I blocked. "Oh, that one was spectacular!" She complimented me. "Well done Gideon."

"I don't know why you always want to spar with me. I never win." I frowned a little. "Maybe that's why…"

"Nonsense, you have better defense than anyone I know." She made another amazing strike, which I admittedly blocked without much trouble. "See? You're quick, and your grip is firm."

"I never get a strike in." I replied.

"But you rarely get a strike against you." She answered right back, and the two of us were then caught up in a hurried and intense duel that had her and I bounding along every corner of the courtyard. Fali was smiling through all of it. She loved weaponry and challenges and sword fighting. They were things she excelled at. I was lucky to be gifted with the ability to defend myself from anyone who ever decided to fight me, thinking it would be a sure win. There had been many of them in my younger years. While the challenge of the duel was debatable with me, I found myself always losing in the end, my complete inability to fight back costing me every match.

It was no different this time. After a few more minutes of sparring, Fali became quicker, and managed to strike her blade deftly underneath mine, pulling both weapons upward, and then snatching my blade from me in the middle of the air. She grinned, managing to catch it this time.

There was a small applause, from Aragorn who had sat on a nearby bench and watched the whole event.

"Well done, both of you." I looked up to a balcony overlooking the courtyard and saw Lord Elrond himself. He had been watching us as well. "It appears you were right, my young lady. You have a talent for such abilities." He glanced at me. "You certainly held your own against such a magnificent force."

"Thank you, milord." Fali called back. "Does this change your earlier thoughts?"

"We shall see." There was something impressed and amused in his tone.

I looked at my sister, who wore a proud, cheery look on her face, sheathing her blade again, and handing mine back to me.

My bones shook, my stomach went cold and numb, and adrenaline continued to soar through my veins, only enhancing these feelings. I had the growing dread that Fali would be going on the quest now…

… and so would I.

TheEarthSong- She can't help it, those hobbits are like her children, she's known them so long, and I hope I can continue to combine the two stories well

OH IMAGINATIVE AND CREATIVE ONE- It's always nice to see some familiar faces, I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well

From last time

it'sareview- Thanks! It's always reassuring to hear that

REDRydingHood- thank you for all the love and support, I love that you're so excited

Eowilmathiel- Yay! More love for Gideon :)

*Important*

I won't be able to update for the next week and a bit :(, my schedule is just packed so I probably won't have much time for writing. The good news though is that after the next hectic little while things slow down, and I'll hopefully be able to update on regular days of the week and with any luck twice a week like a did with Rue and GutM.