“You sent for me, father?” Silvren asked as she stepped inside her father’s study and dipped into a curtsy.
“Yes, about this afternoon.” Elrond looked away from the window and turned to face her.
“This afternoon? Oh, you mean about the council?”
“Yes. I do not think it is wise for you to be going as a part of the Fellowship.”
“What do you mean?” she asked as she slowly sank into one of Elrond’s chair.
“Silvren, this is a quest full of unknown perils and,” he paused for a moment, trying to think how to break it to her, “we don’t know if any of them will make it back alive.” Elrond said sadly, gazing at his youngest daughter.
“That gives me even more of a reason to go!” Silvren squeaked unintentionally. Elrond stared at her in shock and dismay. His gaze fixed hard upon her. “I will not sit around here twiddling my thumbs while the ones I love are out there facing danger and possibly dying. That in it’s self would kill me!”
“Silvren,” he tried his best to keep his voice calm which was a trait he had yet to obtain complete control over, “you are woman, not a warrior. You belong at home, not fighting a horde of orcs. I don’t want you going on this quest. It was not meant for you.” he said sternly.
“How do you know if it was or not? Gandalf told me about my ring. I know about the dangers it possess. I want to be able to protect the lives in all Middle-earth and by going on this quest I can help do that.” Silvren stood up from her chair. “Daddy, you can’t stop me from going. If I have to, I shall follow behind them and track their every move. I will go this quest.”
“Silvren, no. I-“
“Why won’t you let me help?”
“Because you are too young!” Elrond snapped angrily.
“Then why did you send me after Frodo when you could have sent Arwen?” Silvren asked in soft, quavering voice.
“It was at Gandalf’s bidding. And I actually thought that if you were to encounter the Nazgul it would frighten you and maybe calm your adventures side. That maybe you would be content it remaining in Rivendell until it is time to go West.” Elrond sighed.
“You’re afraid. Afraid that I have mother’s sense of freedom and adventure. Afraid that you would lose me because of that trait.” Silvren muttered quietly, noting that she had struck a sensitive chord in Elrond’s body.
“I do not want you going on this quest.” Elrond regained his composure and stern voice.
“I want to help save Middle-earth. If I were to stay behind it would slowly rip me to pieces. I am sorry, Atar, but this time I cannot listen to you. I am going with them whether you like it or not.” she said and bustled out the door, not hearing her father’s call to her.
Elrond stood by his desk, rubbing his furrowed brow with his hands, wondering what he was going to do about the daughter that inherited the majority of his stubbornness.
“You know, as well as I that she means what she says.” an old, rough voice said from the doorway.
Elrond glanced up from the ground to see his old friend, Gandalf walk into his study with a slight shuffle in his walk.
“She means no harm, let her go. I will help look out for her as well as Legolas and Aragorn. You know very well that they are protective of her.”
“Yes, I know.” Elrond concurred, still not willing to let her go with them. “But I cannot underestimate the dangers this quest holds. She is still young…and much like her mother.” Elrond sighed.
“She will be safer traveling with us that if she tagged allowed behind.” Gandalf said as he stopped in front of Elrond, his old knobbed staff clutched with in both hands as he leaned against it for support.
“Aye, you may be right, but I don’t want to lose her. If we succeed and Aragorn becomes king of Gondor, I will lose Arwen.” Elrond said as he walked over to one of the many windows in his study, his hands clutched together behind his back. “I don’t want to lose one daughter as it is, but losing both of them would destroy me. No father wants to lose a daughter.” Elrond replied sorrowfully. He sighed heavily as he gazed down at the colorful trees below and running water of the slight river, he knew he was going to lose no matter what happened.
* * *
Silvren sighed silently with a troubled heart as she walked down the long corridor to Legolas’ chamber. He seemed different after the council, as if he was worried about something yet he could not bear to talk to her or Míriel about it. When she came to his door, Silvren knocked on his and then entered upon his approval. She was determined to discover what was weighing upon him.
“Legolas, what is bothering you?” she asked quietly as she walked over to where he was standing on his balcony. “Please tell me.” she pleaded when he did not answer her and she leaned her head against his arm and gazed up at his saddened face. “Legolas?” whispered Silvren.
He glanced down at the stone floor with a small, saddened smile as he slipped his arm around her waist, Silvren adjusting to his movement and then laid her head against his shoulder.
“I wish you would not go with the Fellowship.”
“Legolas, I know it’ll be dangerous and I already went through this with my father. I want to help and in that I want to fight.”
“But I fear the danger that lies ahead. I fear the danger for you. This will be nothing compared to the fight at the Lonely Mountain. You will more than likely become hurt or even killed. I-I could not live with the thought of that.” he whispered, his eyes beginning to fill with unshed tears as he gazed down at her gently face.
Silvren glance out at the elven-city as her thoughts ran through her mind like a forest fire. “I fear for you and Aragorn as well.” she turned back to face Legolas’ gaze. “I would go mad not knowing whether or not you were hurt or…or dead.” she whispered with a broken voice. “I fear neither death nor pain. I fear being away from you when you are on such a dangerous mission. I want to help destroy the Ring and all evil with it. For all the love in the world you could not stop me.” Silvren said bitterly and began to turn away, wishing that he had understood her desire unlike her father.
“Silvren,” Legolas turned and grabbed her arm before she could leave, “you mean well.” he swallowed, the lump that had formed in his throat still remaining there. “I will fight beside you every step of the way.” he smiled weakly.
The days leading to the departure of the Fellowship went by slowly and Silvren spent her remaining days with her friends Anariel, Míriel, Legolas and the twins Fëanor and Alfirin. She also spent some time with her brothers, and noticed the hidden relationship that was beginning to develop between Anariel and Elladan, Elrohir crushing on Míriel though she absolutely despised him. Silvren noticed that when she went on walks with her friends that the strange man from Gondor often looked her way and would not look away unless he noticed that she had seen his gaze or Legolas was there with her. This man was fairly nice for she had shared some polite words with him when he was lost and asked for directions around the Homely House, but the longing and loneliness in his eyes made her feel uncomfortable in his presence. Deep down in her heart, Silvren had a feeling that he still wanted to use the Ring against Sauron and that he would somehow try to get it from Frodo, why she felt this, she did not know, but she did.
Finally, after many long days, the night before the departure arrived. It was a cool, clear night and many stars shone brightly against the dark sky. Everyone that was to leave the following morning spent their time packing and preparing for the journey that lay ahead of them.
The morning was cool and damp when Silvren woke up and butterflies immediately developed within her stomach upon the realization that it was day the Fellowship was to leave. Elrond still refused to let her leave and so far she had yet to come up with a means of escape. She had no outfit for the trip and none of her supplies had been prepared like everyone else’s. Her father was doing everything he could to prevent her from leaving. Climbing out of her bed, Silvren walked over to her mirrored dresser and slowly began brushing her long, dark hair. She gazed silently at her reflection in the mirror as her thoughts drifted elsewhere, her hand still gliding the silver brush through her smooth hair. Silvren divided the front section of her hair on both sides of her head in two pieces. She twisted the lower section on her right side and then fastened it with a silver clip closer to the top of her head. Then she twisted the upper portion and then fastened that part closer to her ear so that the two twisted strands crossed over each other. Silvren then did like wise with the other side, leaving two long strands of hair dangling down the sides of her face like usual.
When she had finished with her hair, Silvren glided across her room to her wardrobe and opened the large, wooden doors. Sighing with heaviness, she pulled out a blood-red dress that she had yet to wear. The dress had a v-neckline trimmed with silver and a silver broach that matched the fancy, silver décor around the waist. The red sleeve stopped at her elbow where more silver trimming connected with a slightly lighter red, tapering sleeve that was made of gauze began. The dress felt cool and smooth as she slipped the velour dress over her head and fastened the back. Silvren slipped her delicate feet into a pair of matching red slippers and then gazed at her reflection in the mirror. That is when she heard the faint knocking at her door. Before she could say anything, she heard her door slowly open and turned to see Legolas enter her room. He was already dressed with his quiver strapped across his chest and his weapons placed neatly in their places in the quiver. Silvren didn’t know what to say as she glanced away from him and down at the ground, silent tears rolling down her cheeks and falling to the stone floor beneath her.
“Silvren,” Legolas whispered gently as he crossed the room to her and gently placed his hand on her shoulder. “I know you’re upset and worried, but you know it’s for the best.” he tried comforting her. Even though he knew Elrond had denied her wish to join the Fellowship, Legolas was still not comforted. He knew Silvren as well as anyone else, and he knew she wouldn’t stay still for long when she wanted to do something. This was one flawed trait he would have to learn to deal with unless some miracle occurred.
“But you’ll be gone for who knows how long.” Silvren finally turned to face him.
“But, Silvren, I’ve been away before for years, this won’t take years.” he said calmly.
“But you weren’t in danger then. Every second you’re gone danger will be hunting you down.” Silvren cried and leaned against his chest.
“I love you so much, Silvren. I don’t want to go and leave you but it’s something I have to do.” he whispered after several seconds had passed.
“I love you too. I wish you didn’t have to go.” Silvren whispered as she held him even tighter. “I’d die if something happened to you.”
“Don’t say that.” Legolas said hoarsely.
“But its true.” she breathed and blinked several more tears out of her clouded eyes.
“Silvren, can you do something for me?” Legolas asked quietly as he stroked her hair that hung down her back.
“Yes, what is it?” she lifted her head and gazed up into Legolas’ eyes.
“I need you to promise me that you’ll stay here no matter what.” he said and didn’t stop even when Silvren closed her eyes and slowly shook her head. “I need you to promise me that you’ll wait for me to come back for you or you’ve word from me otherwise.” he took her hands in his and held them tightly.
“Silvren, will you do that for me?” Legolas asked sternly as he gripped her hands tighter, his heart aching at the thought of what she would do after he left.
“I can’t!” Silvren cried and pulled her hands out of his. She gathered up her skirt and quickly ran out of her room as more tears began to fall from her eyes. She refused to remain in Rivendell and it was killing her that Legolas wanted her to promise him that she would stay behind.
“Silvren!” Legolas called out as he walked out of her room and watched her disappear down the corridor. He let out a heavy sigh and decided it was best to let her go.
* * *
It was cool and barely light out when Aragorn walked down the stone steps of one of Rivendell’s corridors while sliding his sword back into its sheath.
“Is this how you would take your leave?” a soft and sad voice asked in the elven tongue as Arwen stepped out of her room and walked up behind the silent ranger. She had just finished helping Silvren get ready for the trip and her dark hair was left unbound and flowing down her back. “Did you think you slip away at first light unnoticed?” she asked as she followed him and then walked up beside him.
He said nothing as Arwen slipped in front of him and turned to face him, her pale face full of pain and sorrow as she stopped him in his tracks.
“I will not be coming back.” Aragorn said gravely in her native tongue and gently pushed past her.
“You underestimate your skill in battle. You will come back.” Arwen reassured him as she walked behind him, her heart fearing that something was not right with his demeanor.
“It is not death in battle that I speak about.”
“Then what do you speak of?” Arwen pursued as she grasped his arm and stepped around in front of him once again, desperate to know what he was talking about and why he was not acting like himself.
Aragorn glanced down at the mithril necklace she had given him that he now held within his cupped hand and then looked back up at her beautiful, ageless face.
“You have a chance for another life…away from war…grief…and despair.”
“Why are you saying this?” she asked, fear gripping at her quickly beating heart.
“I am mortal. You are of the Elven race. It was a dream, Arwen, nothing more.” Aragorn said, his own heart breaking to pieces.
“I don’t believe you.” Arwen whispered shockingly.
Glancing down, Aragorn picked up her slender hand and held out her necklace to her. “This belongs to you.” he whispered.
Arwen gazed downward at the mithril and crystal necklace that had once belonged to her but she had given to him when she gave him her heart.
“It was a gift.” she whispered and folded his hand around the cold necklace. “Keep it.” she added stiffly and then walked away from him, back to the shelter of room.