Author: Maethorelen PM
Long before the Fellowship of the Ring was formed, Elrond held a council. The Elenmir, the Order of Legend, was formed and sent to another realm to study the texts containing knowledge of all events in Arda. And now their descendants return, faced with greater challenges than they had ever known. "They thought they knew what the future held. They were wrong."Rated: Fiction T - English - Adventure/Friendship - Chapters: 28 - Words: 59,643 - Reviews: 78 - Favs: 14 - Follows: 22 - Updated: 04-02-13 - Published: 03-03-12 - id: 7893708
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Hunter: Finally, I can be part of the author's note!
Fern: We are ALL part of the author's note, Hunter.
Philip: Oh, shush, Fern, you are not even in this chapter.
Hope: Neither are you, Philip.
Chase: Sedho! Quiet! Can we just do the disclaimer? Otherwise, I doubt Maethorelen will let us do the author's note again.
Philip: Alright, fine. Maethorelen only owns me.
Hunter: And me.
Hope: And me.
Chase: And me.
Fern: Me too.
Chase: Also, we speak a lot of Sindarin in this chapter. Translations are at the bottom.
Chapter 19: The Flight to the Ford
"Stay here," Aragorn commanded the hobbits, setting Frodo down in a small forest clearing. The hobbit was fading quickly, a cold shadow creeping over his face like a dark storm cloud. His breath came in short, pained gasps, and the whites of his eyes were tinged with red.
"Strider," Hope whispered, looking up at the elder Ranger. "The Morgul poison is stronger than we thought. At this pace, he will not make it."
Aragorn strode out of the clearing, motioning for Hope to follow. "It is as I feared," he murmured. "The shadow of the Dark Lord is growing swiftly, strengthening the dark powers of the Ringwraiths and their weapons."
Hope shook her head. This isn't what was supposed to happen, she sighed inwardly.
"Hope, find some athelas," Aragorn commanded. "It may help slow the poison. And be wary; that rider is still out there. Whether it is friend or foe, I do not know." Hope briskly nodded, and with that, the two Rangers sped off in opposite directions, crouching low to the ground to search of the small white-flowered shrub that could be Frodo's only hope for survival.
Suddenly, Hope froze. The sound of hooves echoed through the clearing with a clippety-clippety-clip. Nearer it came, growing louder and faster by the seconds. And then, into view came the rider. It was no wraith, but instead a white horse, a small figure clad in blue and silver rainment upon its back. His hood was thrown back, dark hair streaming behind him like a banner. Upon his chest lay a small blue crystal carved in a shape of a star.
Hope stared incredulously at the rider. "Chase?"
The young ellon grinned, gracefully dismounting his steed. "Mae govannen, Hope. I am glad that I have found you. There are five wraiths on your tail, and they are coming nearer."
A smile flashed onto Hope's face, but it was quickly replaced by a look of confusion. "No rider should have reached us until we came to Trollshaw," she stated. "Not for several days at least."
"I left a few days prior to when Elrond would send out Glorfindel and the other riders to search for you," Chase explained. "I knew this would happen, and I wanted to reach you before it was too late."
Hope nodded, understanding. "It is well that you came. The shadow is coming over Frodo quicker than we expected."
Chase groaned, rubbing his temples. "Gandalf warned me that this would happen," he sighed. "The might of Sauron is growing all too swiftly, and so long as the Elenmîr live and breathe freely, it will not stop."
Hope clenched her fists in frustration. "We must hurry then. Come, we need to find Aragorn!"
It did not take long for them to find the elder Ranger, crouched over a bush of athelas plant. Aragorn was quite surprised to see Chase there, but nevertheless, he greatly appreciated the ellon's assistance. Swiftly, the trio raced to the clearing where the hobbits were. Chase tensed as he laid his eyes upon Frodo, concern clear on his face. Quickly, he dropped to his knees beside the hobbit, whispering, "Lasto beth nin, tolo dan nan galad." Frodo seemed to flinch away from words, continuing to gasp for breath.
Aragorn and Hope knelt down beside him, watching as the young ellon's eyes examined Frodo. The younger Ranger gently pulled back the hobbit's shirt, reveal a dark, throbbing wound, black veins of poison twisting out from the gash. Aragorn hastily crushed some of the athelas leaves in his palm, releasing a strong, sweet scent, and placed them into the wound. The shadow on Frodo's face seemed to lessen, and he became less strained and panicked.
"I athelas ind tua," Chase murmured. "Am' sal' Frodo peleth. Hon û-ind brono."
Aragorn rose to his feet, scooping Frodo into his arms and ignoring the protests of the hobbits behind him. "Noro lim an Imladris, Chase," he stated as he strode to Chase's steed. "Tir an i duin an tua."
Swiftly, Aragorn and Hope hoisted Frodo into the saddle just as Chase mounted the horse. "Stay safe, Chase," Hope whispered, resting her hand on the horse's neck. "Ride hard, and don't look back."
Chase nodded briskly, gripping the reins of the stallion. "Noro lim, Belan!" he commanded. "Noro lim!"
The shining steed reared up with a neigh and broke into a gallop, winding around the trees and boulders scattered through the woods. Chase could hear the hobbits shouting after him, but, true to his word, he did not look back and continued to race through the forest, determined to get Frodo to Rivendell before it was too late.
For days he rode through the wilderness, stopping only when Belan needed rest, for the horse was not as tireless and swift as the Elves. On the seventh day of his ride, Chase noticed that black shadows of horses began to appear in the trees beside him, billowing cloaks of darkness rippling back from their riders. The ellon urged the stallion on, and Belan sped out onto the plains, allowing Chase to finally see his pursuers clearly.
"Neder rochyn!" he exclaimed, tensing at the sight of the nine Ringwraiths cantering after him, their black steeds snorting and whinnying angrily. "Noro lim, Belan!" Chase cried desperately. The white stallion obeyed, the Elvish horse swiftly outrunning the black steeds of the Nazgûl.
Finally, the river Bruinen came into view. Without hesitation, Belan charged into the waters, stopping just short of the other side. Chase whirled the stallion around to see the wraiths on the other bank, the horses of the Nazgûl stamping and snorting at the river.
One of the Ringwraiths turned its hood towards Chase. "Give up the Halfling, Elf-child," it hissed.
"No!" Chase defiantly shouted, drawing the thin, curved, Elvish blade Elladan and Elrohir had given to him from its sheath with a loud ring. "Get back, foul creatures of Mordor!"
The Nazgûl laughed, a harsh, chilling sound. "You have no power over us, Elfling." As one, they drew their black swords, advancing into the waters and towards Chase.
Chase's grip on Belan's reins tightened as his eyes darted around the scene, panic beginning to fill his mind. He could not take on the Nine alone, but turning around and fleeing would lead the wraiths into Rivendell. Suddenly, Aragorn's words filled his mind: Tir an i duin an tua. Look to the river for help. The ellon gazed down at the water, beginning to chant, his voice steadily growing stronger.
"Rimmo nîn Bruinen dan in Ulaer! Rimmo nîn Bruinen dan in Ulaer!"
Suddenly, the waters of the river began to rise, and a great rumbling was heard in the distance. A torrent of water came crashing down from the mountains, the white foam forming the shapes of horses and riders. Chase could spot great boulders tumbling in the froth, raining down upon the wraiths. The ear-piercing shrieks of the Nazgûl filled the air as one by one, they fell into the rushing waters of the river Bruinen.
Not stopping to revel in the small feeling of triumph, Chase whipped Belan around, cantering rapidly to Imladris. The Elven city soon came into view, glistening beautifully in the sunlight. Bright flowers and lush trees surrounded the paths, but Chase had no time to admire the tranquility in this haven compared to the darkness outside.
"Elrohir!" he shouted as he entered the courtyard. The elder ellon was simply leaning on a tree, but he quickly straightened upon hearing Chase's voice.
"Chase, you have returned!" Elrohir cried, rushing over to Belan. "We were worried when we found Belan gone from the stables." The smile on his face quickly turned to one of concern as he saw Chase's grim expression and the Halfing slumped in the saddle in front of him. "What happened, mellon nin?"
Swiftly, Chase dismounted, lifting Frodo from the saddle. "I rode out to meet Aragorn, Hope, and the hobbits," he quickly explained. "When I reached them, they had been attacked by the Nazgûl, and Frodo, the Ringbearer, had been stabbed by a Morgul blade." Ignoring Elrohir's sound of outrage, he continued on. "I took Frodo on Belan and rode here as fast as I could. The Nine pursued me to the Ford, but the river stopped them."
Elrohir nodded, understanding. "Give Frodo to me," he stated. "I will take him to my father." Chase complied, and gently, the young ellon placed Frodo into Elrohir's arms.
"Hannon lle, mellon nin," Chase thanked the elder Elf. Elrohir smiled faintly at him before rushing off, his light footsteps hardly jarring the injured hobbit. The younger ellon watched Elrohir's retreating backside for a few moments before taking the reins of Belan and leading him to the stables. They were not too far away, the massive building housing so many of the Elvish steeds of Imladris. However, he was not alone in the stables. A figure stood near the end of the rows of stalls, tending to a gray stallion, her blonde hair flowing down onto her back in waves. Her green riding dress brushed the ground as she stroked the horse's neck, murmuring softly.
"Hello Hunter," Chase greeted, walking Belan to the stall beside Windstorm.
Hunter turned to face him, grinning broadly. "Chase!" she smiled. "I am glad you are back safely. Elladan and Elrohir nearly had a panic attack when they found out you had gone without telling them."
Chase chuckled at the thought. "I could not tell them, though," he argued, shaking his head. "My errand was an attempt at changing fate."
"I figured as much," Hunter replied, mock glaring at him. "But still, you could have told me."
A sheepish smile tugged at Chase's lips. "My apologies, I was in a bit of a hurry." He sighed, shaking his head. "And besides, the attempt did not really work."
Hunter turned back to face Windstorm, gently rubbing the stallion's nose. "You never know."
"Look, it's Mr. Bilbo's trolls!"
Hope smiled as Sam, Merry, and Pippin all curiously examined the three giant stone trolls that stood in the glade. One was stooped over, a bird's nest perched behind one ear. All were covered in moss, cracks running up and down the figures.
"We shall rest here for the night," Aragorn declared, gazing up at the sky. The clouds had passed, and the moon was once again shining brightly down upon them. Millions of stars twinkled in the sky, forming the great constellations of old.
Hope sighed tiredly, sinking down onto a rock. The whole ordeal had worn all of the company, worry and concern for Frodo and Chase leaving them exhausted. Even Aragorn, who appeared to be as resilient as a tree, seemed by the sag of his shoulders to be weary. The elder Ranger sat beside her on the stone while the three hobbits quickly pulled out their bedrolls, spreading them out on the ground. Within a few moments, their soft, steady breathing filled the night air.
Aragorn smiled faintly as Hope leaned her head on his shoulder, the younger Ranger blinking sleepily. "Hope, get some rest," he gently instructed. "We still have two more days of travel before we reach Rivendell."
With a rather large yawn, Hope lifted her head from Aragorn's shoulder. "Sorry 'bout that, Aragorn," she mumbled,
Chuckling softly, Aragorn clasped her shoulder. "It is fine, Hope. I do not mind."
Hope smiled gratefully up at the Ranger, closing her eyes and resting once more against his side. "Hannon lle, gwador nin," she murmured, drifting off to sleep.
Aragorn gazed down at Hope for a moment, registering what she had said. It was true that the pair had grown extremely close over the course of their travels, but never before had she called him "brother". His smile broadened ever so slightly.
"Glassen, gwathel nin."
Mae govannen, Hope. = Well met, Hope.
Lasto beth nin, tolo dan nan galad. = Hear my voice, come back to the light.
I athelas ind tua = The athelas will help.
Am' sal' Frodo peleth. = Yet still Frodo is fading.
Hon û-ind brono. = He will not last.
Noro lim an Imladris, Chase. = Ride fast to Rivendell, Chase.
Tir an i duin an tua. = Look to the river for help.
Noro lim, Belan! = Ride fast, Belan!
Neder rochyn! = Nine riders!
Rimmo nîn Bruinen dan in Ulaer! = Flow waters of Loudwater against the Ringwraiths!
mellon nin = my friend
hannon lle = thank you
gwador nin = my brother
Glassen = My pleasure
gwathel nin = my sister
Yeah, a lot of Elvish. I really like the language, and so you'll probably be seeing a lot of it in later chapters.
Anyways, hope you enjoyed. Please review!