On the 25th of December, the day of when the people of Earth have just celebrated Christmas, the newly formed Fellowship of the Ring had a hard time waking up just when dawn had finally began to rise from the east. This was the day for when the company would be ready to set out on their dangerous quest to Mordor, the domain of the Dark Lord Sauron, the Nine Ringwraiths, and the Four Horsemen. Some in the group were nervous in doing this, but since they had the best enhanced individuals, they would probably stand a chance to survive this dangerous quest.
During the morning, Frodo was alone with Bilbo, and the elderly hobbit pulled out from under his bed a wooden box. He lifted the lid and fumbled inside.
"Here is your sword," Bilbo revealed a small sword in an old shabby leathern scabbard. Then he drew it, and its polished and well-tended blade glittered suddenly, cold and bright. "This is Sting, Frodo. The weapon Gandalf gave me on my first adventure to the east. Here, take it, take it. I shan't want it again, I expect.'
Frodo accepted it gratefully and begins to draw the sword from its sheath, looking at it in awe. "Its so light."
"Oh yes Frodo, this blade was made by the Elves of Gondolin," Bilbo explained about the ancient weapon. "The blade glows blue when enemies are close and its time like that my lad, when you have to be extra careful." He turns around and noticed something else that he forgot. He brings out a parcel which seemed to be rather heavy for its size. He unwound several folds of old cloth, and held up a small shirt of mail. It was close-woven of many rings, as supple almost as linen, cold as ice, and harder than steel. It shone like moonlit silver, and was studded with white gems. With it was a belt of pearl and crystal.
"What is it?" Frodo wondered in awe.
"It's a pretty thing, isn't it?" Bilbo said, moving it in the light. "And useful. Mithril! It is my dwarf-mail that Thorin gave me. It is light as a feather and as hard as dragon scales. I got it back from Michel Delving before I started, and packed it with my luggage. I brought all the mementoes of my Journey away with me, except the Ring. But I did not expect to use this, and I don't need it now, except to look at sometimes. You hardly feel any weight when you put it on."
"I should look well, I don't think I should look right in it," Frodo said.
"Just what I said myself," Bilbo smiled. "But never mind about looks. You can wear it under your outer clothes. Come on! You must share this secret with me. Don't tell anybody else! But I should feel happier if I knew you were wearing it. I have a fancy it would turn even the knives of the Black Riders."
"Very well, I will take it," Frodo said.
Frodo put it on himself, and fastened Sting upon the glittering belt and then put over the top his old weather-stained breeches, tunic, and jacket. When he had dressed, Frodo found that while he slept the Ring had been hung about his neck on a new chain, light but strong. Slowly he drew it out. Bilbo put out his hand. But Frodo quickly drew back the Ring. To his distress and amazement he found that he was no longer looking at Bilbo; a shadow seemed to have fallen between them, and through it he found himself eyeing a little wrinkled creature with a hungry face and bony groping hands. He felt a desire to strike him. Bilbo looked quickly at Frodo's face and passed his hand across his eyes.
"I understand now," Bilbo shivered in terrible shock and fear of what he did. "Put it away! I am sorry: sorry you have come in for this burden. I'm sorry about everything. Don't adventures ever have an end? I suppose not. Someone else always has to carry on the story. Well, it can't be helped. I wonder if it's any good trying to finish my book. But don't let's worry about it now-let's have some real News. Tell me all about the Shire."
Frodo hid the Ring away, and the shadow passed leaving hardly a shred of memory. The light and music of Rivendell was about him again. Bilbo smiled and laughed happily. Every item of news from the Shire that Frodo could tell-aided and corrected now and again by Sam-was of the greatest interest to him, from the felling of the least tree to the pranks of the smallest child in Hobbiton. They were so deep in the doings of the Four Farthings that they did not notice the arrival of a man clad in dark green cloth. For many minutes he stood looking down at them with a smile.
The East Wind was streaming through the bare branches of the trees, and seething in the dark pines on the hills. Ragged clouds were hurrying overhead, dark and low. As the cheerless shadows of the early evening began to fall the Fellowship of the Ring was ready to set out. They were to start at dusk, for Elrond and Artemis counselled them to journey under cover of night as often as they could, until they were far from Rivendell.
"You should fear the many eyes of the servants of Sauron," Elrond explained his warning to the Company. "I do not doubt that news of the discomfiture of the Riders has already reached him, and he will be filled with wrath. Soon now his spies on foot and wing will be abroad in the northern lands. Even of the sky above you must beware as you go on your way."
The Company took little gear of war, for their hope was in secrecy not in battle. Aragorn had his own sword, but no other weapon, and he went forth clad only in rusty green and brown as a Ranger of the northern wilderness. Boromir had a long sword, in fashion like his sword, but of less lineage and he bore also a shield and his war-horn. Bobbi still carried her gun and all of her magazines to load it. Agents Fitz and Simmons were both talking about the beauty and wonders, and hoped to one day return to Rivendell after the dangerous quest to Mordor was over.
"Loud and clear it sounds in the valleys of the hills," Boromir said in awe and wonder. "And then let all the foes of Gondor flee!"
"Slow should you be to wind that horn again, Boromir," Elrond told him. "Until you stand once more on the borders of your land, and dire need is on you."
"Maybe," Boromir sighed. "But always I have let my horn cry at setting forth, and though thereafter we may walk in the shadows, I will not go forth as a thief in the night."
Hunter stares very vicious at Boromir, for he doesn't trust him. Instead, he now trusts Aragorn, but wasn't able to give him an apology for not trusting him the beginning. He hoped that one day during the journey, he willl aplogize to the noble ranger of the North.
Joey Burnett, Jane Foster, Darcia Lewis, and Erik Selvig had just finished packing their stuff and equipment that they would be using for the journey. Despite wanting to return to the Shire, the four still didn't want to separate themselves from the four hobbits that were going to travel in the Fellowship of the Ring.
"So now that young Frodo Baggins is the bearer of Sauron's ring, what do you think will happen once we reach our destination?" Burnett asked.
"As long as we keep our heads and asses down, maybe it won't be problem at all," Darcia scoffed. "This second crazy expedition is going to be totally screwed up if we make the wrong turn."
"That's why we're taking the Gap of Rohan," Doctor Foster pointed. "Gandalf told us of what we were going to do."
"Isn't the Gap of Rohan very close to Isengard?" Darcia asked.
"It depends, hopefully we won't get caught or worse," Doctor Foster sighed. "For now, its the only way in or out."
"I hate to tell you this, but this really concerns a lot of us," Doctor Selvig said. "If we end up too close to Isengard, I bet Saruman will be bringing us to uncertain places."
"And then come for the Ring, we got that picture already," Darcia sighed in annoyance. "Blah, blah, blah."
"Darcy, this is serious, if we do end up captured, then we're screwed!" Doctor Foster exclaimed.
"Okay Jane, but let's hope for the better that we don't get our asses in the wrong place," Darcia scoffed. "We were this close in losing it to those Ringwraiths that nearly killed Frodo. Another expedition like this will likely get him killed."
Lancelot Hunter walks up from behind Jane and says, "If anyone asks, your right, this all bloody adventure will get our friend killed, but what makes it worst is, the guy with the symbol of the white... uh, tree." He pointed at Boromir, who didn't notice that Hunter was staring coldly at him.
"Who, Boromir?" Doctor Foster asked, taking a glimpse of the Gondorian and turns back to face Hunter. "What's up with him?"
"Don't you even recall, he tried to take the bloody ring," Rifleman responded, sounding a bit irritated. "I don't know why the hell he's coming with us, but he shouldn't. I don't trust the guy and neither does Bob."
"Yeah, I think you might getting something," Darcia whispered in agreement. "I mean, totally, he's quite cute and charming in a way, but are you 100% positive that we shouldn't let him travel with us?"
"I don't know," Doctor Selvig replied back. "Whether we like it or not, we all have to be allies."
"Allies?" Rifleman scoffed. "C'mon doc, haven't you been hearing? There's something about that man that I don't like. I just don't trust him."
"What about Aragorn, I thought you said you didn't trust him," Doctor Foster recalled with a grin.
"That was a long while back," Rifleman complained in excuse. "I trust him now. Look, to be honest, Boromir isn't the only one in here that I trust."
"Oh, and who might that be exactly?" Doctor Foster guessed with sarcasm.
"The heavy..., well, red-bearded dwarf man," Rifleman answered.
"You mean Gimli, right?" Darcia giggled. "He does look pretty aggressive when he carries an axe to chop wood."
"He growls like a bloody dog," Rifleman said, rolling his eyes.
"Well, Legolas on the other hand, he's really cute," Darcia described.
"Too bad to say, he's an elf, they're immortal by the way," Doctor Foster added. "They share similar traits to the Asgardians."
"Well don't get me wrong, luv, if something bad happens to any of you, I'll be ready to do my part," Rifleman began a promising plan.
"And what is?" Doctor Foster asked.
"Burying a knife in their necks or bullets in their brains," Rifleman answered as he turns to walk away.
Darcia turns her head to Jane and mouths her friend four words. "Bullets in their brains."
After Darcia turns to meet her boyfriend, who had just been checking that he didn't miss anything, Jane could tell that Hunter was really serious about his distrust over Boromir, for which she can see that he continues to stare coldly at the Gondorian. That was when Jemma Simmons and Leo Fitz walk over to her.
"Jane Foster," Agent Simmons giggled in excitement upon meeting her face-to-face and introduces herself and Fitz. "Sorry, we never had proper introductions, but I'm honored to meet you at last."
"Thank you, and you are?" Doctor Foster asked, wanting to get their names.
"Jemma and this is Fitz," Agent Simmons introduced. "I want to ask a question. Is it true that you actually knew Thor?"
"Yes I did, but we actaully broke up," Doctor Foster answered with a fake grin. "So, it doesn't bother to be concerned of that."
"Oh no, not at all, but I've been actually a great fan of your work," Agent Simmons said in pure excitement. "I've also heard that you can study scientific methods through space and time. Fitz and I actually do that too."
"That's great, you know I got a lot of things that I can give to the two of you," Doctor Foster said.
Gimli the dwarf alone wore openly a short shirt of steel-rings, for dwarves make light of burdens; and in his belt was a broad-bladed axe. Legolas had a bow and a quiver, and at his belt a long white knife. The younger hobbits wore the swords that they had taken from the barrow, but Frodo took only Sting and his mail-coat, as Bilbo wished, remained hidden. Gandalf bore his staff, but girt at his side was the elven-sword Glamdring, the mate of Orcrist that laid now upon the breast of Thorin Oakenshield under the Lonely Mountain.
All were well furnished by Elrond with thick warm clothes, and they had jackets and cloaks lined with fur. Spare food and clothes and blankets and other needs were laden on a pony, none other than the poor beast that they had brought from Bree. The stay in Rivendell had worked a great wonder of change on him. He was glossy and seemed to have the vigour of youth. It was Samwise Gamgee, who had insisted on choosing him, declaring that Bill, as he called him, would pine, if he did not come.
"That animal can nearly talk," Samwise sighed. "And would talk, if he stayed here much longer. He gave me a look as plain as Mr. Pippin could speak it: if you don't let me go with you, Sam, I'll follow on my own."
"So I guess Bill is going as the beast of burden then," Agent Fortunov said, giving the pony a nice pet.
Their farewells had been said in the great hall by the fire, and they were only waiting now for Gandalf, who had not yet come out of the house. A gleam of firelight came from the open doors, and soft lights were glowing in many windows. Bilbo huddled in a cloak stood silent on the doorstep beside Frodo. Aragorn sat with his head bowed to his knees and only Lord Elrond knew fully what this hour meant to him.
Samwise Gamgee was standing by the pony, sucking his teeth, and staring moodily into the gloom where the river roared stonily below; his desire for adventure was at its lowest ebb.
"Bill, my lad," Samwise said. "You oughtn't to have took up with us. You could have stayed here and et the best hay till the new grass comes."
Samwise Gamgee eased the pack on his shoulders, and went over anxiously in his mind all the things that he had stowed in it, wondering if he had forgotten anything: his chief treasure, his cooking gear, the little box of salt that he always carried and refilled when he could, a good supply of pipe-weednm, flint and tindernwoollen hose, linen, and various small belongings of his master's that Frodo had forgotten and Sam had stowed to bring them out in triumph when they were called for. He went through them all.
That was when the group turns around to notice someone coming down the steps. It was Natasha Romanoff, who had been drssed fancy, including a lot of stuff she'd been packing as well.
"She's coming too?" Agent Fitz asked, confused.
"I knew it," Meriadoc gasped in excitement upon seeing Natasha. "I knew she would come."
"Hope you guys don't mind adding another in the group?" Black Widow asked.
"Lord Elrond said that there was only twenty-four," Agent Fortunov counted with a grin. "But it wouldn't hurt to the number twenty-five."
"No, its fine Nat, we really need all the help we can get," Mockingbird grinned and gave Daisy a wink. "What do you think?"
"Don't ask me, I may still be the director of S.H.I.E.L.D., but including an Avenger will hopefully make matters easy for all of us," Quake agreed.
Lord Elrond came out with Gandalf, and he called the Company to him and gazed upon each member, including Natasha Romanoff. "This is my last word. The Ring-bearer is setting out on the Quest of Mount Doom. On him alone is any charge laid: neither to cast away the Ring, nor to deliver it to any servant of the Enemy nor indeed to let any handle it, save members of the Company and the Council, and only then in gravest need. The others go with him as free companions, to help him on his way. You may tarry, or come back, or turn aside into other paths, as chance allows. The further you go, the less easy will it be to withdraw. Yet no oath or bond is laid on you to go further than you will. For you, do not yet know the strength of your hearts, and you cannot foresee what each may meet upon the road."
Daisy Johnson, despite still being a little too young to run as director of S.H.I.E.L.D., wished she passed it over to Agent Alphonso Mackenzie, Victoria Louise Hand, Phillip Jamie Coulson, or Maria Hill. As she stared at the view of the beautiful valley that the Elves had long protected, she really didn't like what she was about to do. She was aware of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s protocol, for which her title as Director would be passed onto a nother incase if the last one chooses to step down or missing in action.
"Well, here we go," Quake murmured.
"Get ready director, cause we're about to be walking into the borders of danger," Black Widow warningly whispered.
"Thanks for the hot tip," Quake remarked with a fake smile.
"Whatever happens, we do this together," Black Widow said. "Its what my family says to each other when he go on out dangerous missions."
"Yep, same here," Black Widow sighed. "I got your back, if you ever need me."
"You can cause serious earthquakes if we ever cross mountains," Black Widow pointed. "It would be very dangerous. More importantly, it could be easy for you to take down a whole building."
"Well that's why I keep my powers under control," Quake said. "I will only use them in places that are not as risky or dangerous."
"I know," Black Widow nodded, understanding. "And please forgive my words."
"No, its okay," Quake expressed her undertstanding.
"Okay," Black Widow whispered, nodding her head in approval.
"Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens," Gimli gruffled.
"Maybe," Elrond said. "But let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall."
"Yet sworn word may strengthen quaking heart," Gimli said.
"Or break it," Elrond added. "Look not too far ahead! But go now with good hearts! Farewell, and may the blessing of the Elves and Free Folk go with you. May the stars shine upon your faces!"
"Good... good luck!' Bilbo cried, stuttering with the cold. "I don't suppose you will be able to keep a diary, Frodo my lad, but I shall expect a full account when you get back. And don't be gone too long! Farewell!"
Gandalf, on the other hand, had been standing in front of the group, turns to face Frodo. "The Fellowship awaits the Ringbearer."
All eyes in the group turned towards the young, little hobbit. Bobbi could tell how nervous Frodo was and she was hoping to wait for a reply if he ever changes his mind, but so far none. As the nervous hobbit was now in front of the group and walks through the arches, Gandalf was the first to follow him from from behind, followed by the rest of the Fellowship.
"Okay, here we go," Pat whispered nervously.
"Alright everythig will be just fine," Agent Simmons breathed, trying to gain the exact amount of bravery she needs during the journey.
"Don't you seem nervous?" Mockingbird grinned.
"Yes," Agent Simmons scoffed in a bit of laughter. "I am."
"Turn back, maybe you'll feel comfortable," Mockingbird suggested.
"I prefer not to be alone, besides Fitz is here, Hunter is here, Daisy is here, what can possible go wrong?" Agent Simmons asked.
"I'll tell you this, you'll find that there are no cars, trucks, planes, or helicopters," Mockingbird told her. "This world is more likely medieval type."
"Well, as long as we stay close without any transportation or backup, let's hope we have a chance to avoid all sorts of countless dangers, especially the wilderness," Agent Simmons exhaled.
"Yeah," Mockingbird breathed.
"Mordor Gandalf," Frodo whispered to Gandalf. "Is it left or right?"
"Left," Gandalf answered back in a faint whisper.