Imladris [COMPLETED]

[KC]

Aragorn's face cracked into a grin as he turned to see a familiar elf hurtling towards him. It was a good thing indeed that elves were nimble because if it had been any other creature moving at him at that speed, it would have undoubtedly crashed into Aragorn and brought him to the ground. However, Legolas stopped gracefully inches away from him and merely placed his on Aragorn's shoulder. In return Aragorn also clapped Legolas' free shoulder. "Nae saian luume', Legolas!" (It has been too long!)

Aragorn's joy at being reunited with Legolas could only last so long until he had to respond to the question about his journey. "Well, Legolas," he said, his eyes darkening as he thought of the harm that had come to Frodo, "it is rather harder to be late when the Nazgul are chasing you."

[KC]

Aragorn took a deep breath. Legolas' eyes betrayed the same apprehension and fear that Aragorn had felt when Gandalf told him that hobbits had somehow discovered the One Ring. The Ring that his own flesh and blood was supposed to have destroyed. Aragorn felt his face slightly burn with shame as he nodded to Legolas. "Yes, mellonamin," he replied quietly. "I am afraid it is very true."

"Lord Elrond is calling together a council of the inhabitants of Middle Earth to decide what should be done with Sauron's One Ring."

Simply mentioning the Ring sent waves of guilt through Aragorn. He looked into the distance, avoiding Legolas' gaze. That which had caused him to go into exile had found him, regardless of all of his efforts.It was ironic, truly. Aragorn had merely been trying to avoid the power and greed and corruption that was embodied in Sauron's Ring. He had never truly feared that he would come into contact with the bane of his line itself.

[KC]

"I have no knowledge of what is to come, concerning the Ring," Aragorn replied. "I have been unlucky in birth, being stained with the blood of a race who let evil survive in the hope of self glory and power."

Aragorn suddenly grinned at Legolas. "However," he continued, "I count myself very lucky indeed to be blessed with such a friend. I feel that it is part of my line's duty to see that the Ring is destroyed now, once and for all. If the Lord Elrond sees fit to allow me to somehow see this mission accomplished, I would be most glad with you accompanying me."

Aragorn looked out over the trees in the direction of Mordor. He did know that the Ring must be destroyed. He did not know if Elrond would trust his kind anywhere near the Ring. True, he had brought Frodo to Rivendell, but he himself did not know if he trusted his kind anywhere near the Ring.

"I feel that dark times are coming, mellonamin."

[KC]

Aragorn felt his cheeks alight with a certain fire, not really of embarrassment, but just at the boyish delight he felt at hearing Arwen's name. Legolas simply loved this. Aragorn tried to manage a menacing glare in the elf's direction, but the smirk on his friend's face and the twinkle in his eyes made it impossible. "Well, I..." Aragorn stopped awkwardly to clear his through, worried that he might sound a bit too excited. "I have not seen her yet, but, rest assured, I will as soon as I humanly can."

Humanly. It was funny that that one word should spring from his lips when he was speaking of his Arwen. Humanly. Human. The one word that was separating them.

The word bothered him, but he did his best to mask his emotion from Legolas. Instead, he continued speaking saying, "You have no idea how much I have missed her, mellonamin." A smile secretly crept onto Aragorn's before he could do anything about it. "But you do seem to find joy in tormenting me about her!"

[boromir]

I glance up as a Man and an Elf enter the hall chosen for the emissaries of each race to gather in upon arrival. Men from the Dale and from Rohan have gathered here as well, though noticeably absent from Rohan's representation is Eomer. I do wonder why someone else was sent to represent Theoden King. I turn my thoughts back to the two that have entered the hall. The Elf, so lithe and fair, and the Man, dirty and dark... dressed as a Ranger. Not to be trusted... that much is certain. I narrow my eyes as I see the friendly banter between the two, and when both males stop and lift their gazes, I follow them to see Lord Elrond's daughter, Arwen, closing the distance between herself and the Man and the Elf. I curl my lip in disdain at the fond expression she gives the Man. What could a creature so beautiful have to say to someone so obviously not of her station? Arwen Undomiel is a princess, and the other Elf-- golden hair, dancing azure eyes, dressed in finery that spoke of nobility or royalty-- he must be Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood.

I pass the Men of Rohan, not our allies these many long years, to give my greeting to the Wizard my father did not trust but that I loved, and the Elvish lord hosting this council meet. I touch Mithrandir's shoulder, flashing a smile at him. "Finally, we see each other once more, my friend. It has been many long months since you came to the White City seeking the journals of Isildur." I glance down at the Halfling, feeling my smile fade somewhat. "'Twould appear that you found what you were searching so hard for... I am thankful that you, little one, made it safely to these borders." I offer him my hand in greeting. "I am Boromir, Son of Denethor II, Steward of Gondor."

"Frodo Baggins of the Shire," the Halfling replied, taking my hand in his and clasping it briefly. "It was by Strider's expertise in the Wild, the speed of Arwen's horse, and the excellence of Lord Elrond's healing, that I did make it here... alive."

"Frodo ran into a bit of trouble with the Nazgul at Amon Hen. He was stabbed with a Morgul blade in the shoulder. My daughter rode to retrieve him from... Strider... as he could not move as fast with three other Halflings in tow," Lord Elrond spoke, his low voice full of pride... and concern.

"Your Elvish medicines restored him, though... and now he can return to his people... his Shire." I smile, my heart full of longing and worry for my own people. Faramir... if you could but see this congregation of races. You would truly love this... you love to read the lore, and about the other races of Middle Earth. Here there be Dwarves, Men, and Elves. Everywhere I look, I see you. I hope the dreams I have had the last four months have not come to fruition, as you would have to lead the battle against a great host on Osgiliath; that is my talent, little brother... that is where I am most useful to Gondor. Not in representation. This is the area that you excel and thrive in; you should have come on this journey, Faramir. You. Not me.

I turn my gaze, and my thoughts, back to my companions. "I am truly glad that Lord Elrond's Elvish medicines have restored you, Frodo Baggins, and though, I have never seen your Shire, I know that you must be as anxious to return home as I am." Clapping the Wizard on the back, I step in to him to whisper, "You and I must talk, Wizard, of the rumors that have reached Gondor regarding this called meeting. I do not think I have journeyed so far and so quickly for them not to be true."

[boromir]

I smile in rehearsed response to the Elvish princeling. Many long years has my father, the Steward of Gondor, worked to keep their lands safe, as well as those of the Halfling, and now that his rule is failing-- I stop my thoughts before I can finish that sentence as I watch the Elf hug Mithrandir. I know that the Grey Wizard has common ties with all the races of Middle Earth, but for some reason, the tenderness he shares with an Elvish prince far older than my forty-one years, grates on my soul. How is it that one so old as Legolas Thrandulion, most likely a formidable warrior but untested to my knowledge, garners such a greeting from the Wizard? How is it that he, from the dark Mirkwood Realm, has gained so much respect from Gandalf the Grey when he has yet to spill his blood in protection of Middle Earth? Why is it that Elves, who have abandoned us since the Last Alliance of Elves and Men; Elves who are leaving Middle Earth because the war has become too great for them to lend a hand to those of us who still fight daily to keep Mordor at bay; how is it that this Elf receives a greeting like the one he receives now from a Wizard so close to the White Wizard?

Turning my head, I step back from Lord Elrond and the Halfling to leave the room. Too much has happened and I have seen too much of my own blood spilled to come to this sudden realization that it matters not what Gondor has done for this world. Gondor will fight as we have always fought. Gondor will spill its blood as she has always done... and Gondor will continue to always be overlooked as she has always been, even though my body and the bodies of my men bear the evidence that it is in Gondor that Middle Earth must trust. It is the Men of the West that will ultimately decide whether Middle Earth will continue on or if it will end. I glance back at the Elf and the Wizard, shaking my head. Indeed, I think, the time of the Elves is over. The silver trumpets of the White City will ring clearly through the red skies, sounding out our victory or our defeat... but it is Gondor that will see Middle Earth safe. It is Gondor Men that will continue to make the ultimate sacrifice.

I bow my head respectfully to Lord Elrond when he arches an eyebrow at my impending exit. "Gondor will see all your lands kept safe... and yet, if my dreams come to pass, it will not be to my sword that Men rally," I rasp, half to myself, as I stride into the gaily lit hallway. "The Horn of Gondor will fall silent before the end."