A/N: We've had one, yes, but what about second update?
"Sybil…"
"Absolutely not!"
"Master Elrond, perhaps we might discuss this matter in private."
Aragorn, Boromir, and Gandalf all answered Sybil at once – each with differing levels of fervour. All the while, several of those gathered – Elves and Dwarves, mainly – began conferring with one another in their mother tongues, their tones giving Sybil the sense that they were making sure they really had understood what she'd just said. Or denouncing her as a madwoman.
"There is no need to discuss the matter in private, for the matter is no matter at all," Boromir cut in decisively. "It is not possible. Of course she cannot join us."
"I would ask that all but the Fellowship leave us to discuss this matter," Lord Elrond called above the din.
He was obeyed without question – and with all of the swiftness that a motley crew of such a size could command. Sybil took it as a good sign that she was not asked to leave with them, considering Lord Elrond's wording. As they took their leave, Boromir turned to her.
"Have you taken leave of your senses?" he demanded.
"If you would allow me to explain," she said, struggling to look at him evenly even now that the arrows had vanished.
"Explain what? This is an absurdity – of course you cannot join us. When I said that we might travel together, I did not mean-"
His words drew several strange looks from those close enough to hear, and Sybil's cheeks blazed.
"This has nothing to do with that, I'm not a simpleton, I didn't speak up in an attempt to trail along behind you clutching at the hem of your cloak!"
It may have done its job, but that didn't mean that the oil – nor its effects – had the good courtesy to disappear now. The visions were no more, and if she could have asked for anything at all, it would have been that. And so she tried to be grateful. But the headache? The headache still pulled at her skull, more and more with every inhale, and that did nothing for her patience. Not that she felt she would've taken Boromir's insinuation particularly well otherwise.
"Then why would you suggest such a thing?"
"For the same reason you offered your services!"
"You are not a warrior!"
"And so you will have five among you who are not warriors, rather than simply four. Swords are not the only thing that might be of use here."
A breeze caught her then and she turned her face towards it, desperately seeking a breath that wasn't tainted by that damned smell.
"Look at you! You can barely stand, and you wish to follow us to Mordor."
Sybil clenched her jaw. Again, he made her sound like a stray pup trailing along hopefully behind the last one to throw it a scrap.
"You don't understand – if you would allow me to explain," she breathed.
But there was no chance to offer any such explanation, for Gandalf cut in then.
"I require a moment with Miss Sybil – if you will excuse us."
She had little choice but to allow him to herd her away from the group – and Boromir had little choice but to watch.
"What did you see?" he asked, speaking lowly as the rest of the Fellowship began debating her presence amongst themselves.
Boromir's voice was the loudest, turning his energy to convincing the others where he could not convince her – and his voice was not a happy one.
"Lots of things. Some of it didn't make sense at first, but then with what was said…and the fact that I saw it before it was said…" she shook her head, and regretted it for how it only made the headache worse. "I saw you, but you did not look like you do now – you were robed in white. And Aragorn – I saw Aragorn as a king, with a garbed finely and in a crown before the elf even revealed who he was! And I saw- I saw…"
She trailed off, looking to Frodo and finding him looking back from where he stood with his kin. There was little chance to drag herself out of her hesitation, for Gandalf was interrupting.
"Speak no more, Sybil. I have heard enough," he said. "For now, at least. But…Frodo…?"
There was no need to look to the hobbit to know he was looking at her. She could feel his eyes on her.
"Ash," she whispered. "And blood."
A great heaviness overcame Gandalf's features – and he faltered, before nodding slowly. If he had heard that, though, then surely he would hear the one piece she had left to divulge.
"And-"
"No," he interrupted firmly. "Repeat none of this to anyone. We will discuss the matter further later."
They rejoined the rest of the group just in time to hear the tail end of Boromir's argument.
"She would be a hindrance – a detriment! It cannot be-"
To his credit, he did falter as he realised she'd rejoined them just to hear exactly what it was that he thought of her. But then he pressed on, his voice less harsh but no less firm.
"It cannot be allowed to stand."
There was a strange sort of humour, Sybil thought, in the fact that she'd just that very morning been thinking about how she was good at keeping her emotions from her face when needed – albeit with very different emotions in mind, even if it was the same man featured in both scenarios. Still, it came in handy now. Almost like closing shutters, she took control of her face, and removed any expression from it. Then she did the same with her voice before she spoke.
"The plan worked," she said softly – aiming her words at Aragorn and Lord Elrond, seeing as Gandalf already knew. "I saw much. I know that I can help – and I cannot do so unless I follow along."
"Plan?" the dwarf pressed. "What plan?"
Even those in the know turned to her for an explanation, and so she steeled herself and spoke the words that still felt wrong on her tongue.
"It appears that I have the gift of foresight."
"Foresight?" Boromir echoed.
"The claim has been tested this very morning, and I believe it to be true," Gandalf's words felt reassuring and damning all in one.
Aragorn sighed heavily, as though the news brought him great grief.
"Lord Elrond – you spoke of fate bringing us all here, and it is not less so in my case than any other here. Indeed, wherever I look in my circumstances, I see the hand of fate. Had I not come to Bera's door as I did, I would not be here. Had Bera not passed precisely when she did, I would not be here. Had men not burned my home down, and all of my belongings with it, precisely when they did, I would not be here. Had instinct not told me to come to Rivendell, had I not run into Lord Boromir on that very day," the choice to use his proper title had been a conscious one, one to put distance between them now that his views were perfectly clear, "and had I not managed to walk those first few days on wounds that should have crippled me, we might have been slowed beyond reaching here in time for the Council. Over and over, fate played a role in bringing me here, everything happening precisely as it had to, when it had to, just as it did to bring every other standing here now. Would you deny it simply because I am a woman?"
"I can deny nothing, for the denial would not be mine to make," Lord Elrond said. "It is the choice of the ringbearer."
"And we Elves do not share the same qualms as men when it comes to the roles of their womenfolk," the blond elf added.
Boromir scoffed, and it was clear there was no love lost from their prior feud. Still, Sybil offered a strained smile in response to the show of support.
"Elvish logic if ever I've heard it," the dwarf grumbled, but seemed content to limit himself to grumbling rather than truly fighting any one side of this argument.
The same could not be said for Boromir.
"Do Elves share the qualms of inviting one along on such a venture who could not stray a handful of leagues down the Road without having to be carried?" he demanded.
"I'm not sure that's fair," Aragorn cut in evenly. "The circumstances were…regrettable. And unusual."
"The entirety of this quest will be regrettable and unusual! She would not have reached Rivendell alive without my help! Help that I cannot be forced to offer every step of the way, through every hardship, with what is to come!"
"…We – my kin and I – could not have reached Rivendell alive without the help of Strider," Frodo pointed out.
If anything, Boromir's accidental highlighting of the similarities between their coming here only seemed to endear her case to Frodo, rather than hobbling it. Sybil could have kissed the hobbit, if she didn't think it would hurt her cause more than help it.
"It's not like we won't need to brush up on our own swordsmanship," Pippin added cheerfully. "What does it hurt to add one more to those lessons?"
"The choice is not yours to make either, Master Peregrin," Gandalf added.
Merry nodded along in agreement to Pippin's words as Frodo considered them, despite Gandalf's warning, and the only one of the hobbits who seemed unsure of the prospect of her joining was Sam - although she had a feeling it was more to do with her foresight than her sex. The dwarf appeared in agreement with that, too, muttering about sorcery far more than he grumbled about the perils of womanhood.
Aragorn seemed much resigned to the possibility of her joining them, taking no great joy in it but at least seeing the necessity, the elf had already voiced his opinion…as had Boromir. There would be no convincing him, and the sting of the many words he'd let loose only added to her inability to look at him. The dwarf was visibly unhappy with the prospect, too, but she was winning this battle with seven of nine in her favour.
It only spurred her on as she addressed Frodo. directly
"I do not complain," she said. "Ever. As a rule. Aragorn can attest to that, for Bera would have never tolerated my presence if I did. I do what must be done, whatever that may be, and I do it with neither protest, nor fuss. I may lack skills in combat, but I am a fast learner, and a dedicated one. Not only that, but I am a healer. A skilled healer. Surely you cannot have too many of those on such a quest."
"She speaks truthfully," Aragorn sighed, but clearly took little pleasure in it.
For that, Sybil couldn't fault him. She wasn't asking him to like this turn of events, only to accept the necessity in it. Frodo hesitated, looking to Gandalf over her shoulder for whatever guidance he might offer. Whatever it was appeared to be favourable, for the hobbit then turned and regarded her with a furrow in his brow that had no small amount of sadness to it.
"You understand the risks?"
"I do."
"You could die," Boromir snapped.
"In which case none shall miss a hindrance," she countered sharply, not once taking her eyes off of Frodo.
"Very well," the ringbearer said.
And that was that. Still unused to the gravity of his role, Frodo nodded his farewells and left with his kin – followed by the dwarf, who continued to mutter beneath his breath without acknowledging her. The elf bowed his head in parting and followed soon after, but only when he saw that Aragorn intended to linger so that he might speak with her. Sybil was grateful for that – and for the fact that Gandalf and Lord Elrond also remained, for she did not wish to be alone with Boromir just yet.
"Were I not familiar with your work ethic, I would tell you that if I was not content with your progress with a blade when it comes time to leave, I will argue for your staying behind," Aragorn warned.
"There will be no need for that," Gandalf said. "Of that, I am sure."
"You appear to have matters well in hand – I must take my leave and see to business, now that a course of action has been taken," Lord Elrond said.
They all acknowledged his departure with the necessary respect. Gandalf and Aragorn soon followed thereafter, casting dubious glances between herself and Boromir as they left. And then they were alone.
Silence settled in quickly, with Sybil keeping her gaze downcast despite how she felt Boromir's eyes burning into her face.
"Perhaps you might explain this foresight business," he said sharply. "Seeing as it's important enough to undo all that I have done this past week to keep you breathing."
"I think you have the measure of it already," she said. "I am glad that there is honesty between us now."
"Honesty? You have told me nothing."
"Perhaps not, but you have said much – and I suspect that plenty of it was well overdue," she kept all traces of accusation from her voice, instead keeping it devoid of emotion entirely and speaking factually as though they discussed the weather.
"Sybil-"
"If you will excuse me, my lord, I must rest."
She was growing more and more sure that she would soon vomit, and doing so in his presence would only cement her humiliation…and likely justify his belief that she had no place anywhere beyond a room where all of the edges had been sanded from the furniture, so that she couldn't injure herself through sheer stupidity.
Bowing at the neck, she didn't wait to see if he planned to respond, turning and taking her leave as quickly as possible. And refusing to pay any heed to the lump forming in her throat.