Silvren’s Journey-Chapter 40

by May 30, 2007Stories

I appologize in advance for this chapter mainly follows the movie during the council, the next chapter will have more with Silvren. I hope you can stick it out. 🙂

“Silvren, wake up!”
Silvren woke up slightly startled, as everything was spinning about her. “Arwen.” she moaned. “Stop shaking me!”
“Well get up.” Arwen said as she walked away from the bed, walking gracefully over to the wardrobe.
“Why do you always have to shake me?” Silvren asked as she sat up in her bed.
“Would you rather me hit you over the head or dump icy water on you?” Arwen smiled.
“All right then. Father wants you to attend the council this afternoon.”
“Just because, besides Legolas will be there.” Arwen smirked.
Silvren blushed at the statement Arwen made and then joined her sister next to her wardrobe.
“Here, wear this one.”
Silvren took the dress from Arwen and slipped off her nightgown and slipped into the red and silver dress Arwen had picked out. The sleeves hung loosely at the elbows where a silver sleeve crept underneath it and reached down to her wrists. Silver, beaded fabric lined the low scooping neckline and small silver threads that were twined together, formed the belt that hung loosely about her hips. The loose ends hung down the front of her dress, moving with the dress as she walked.
“Are you going?” Silvren asked Arwen as she tied the silver belt around her waist.
“Nay. I have better things to do than listen to men bicker and bore me with their stories of old.” Arwen smiled teasingly.
“Then why do I have to go? Everyone knows that my attention does not out last that of your.” Silvren smiled.
“Father insists.” Arwen said. “Now go.”

A sweet sounding bell rang out as Silvren walked quietly along the stone floor of the sheltered walkway, leaves were scattered here and there on the floor that had been blown in by the gentle, autumn breeze.
Silvren sighed contently, listening to the birds that were singing in the trees near by as the gentle breeze carried their tune along with it. Slowly and nervously, she approached the circular terrace where her father’s council was to be held.
The Men of Gondor were standing around talking amongst each other while the Dwarves sat in their seats keeping to themselves while they waited for the council to begin. The Elves of Mirkwood also sat in their seats, but they seemed at peace and less impatient Silvren noted. Silvren’s heart fluttered when she spotted Legolas sitting with his fellow companions and then she wondered why Míriel wasn’t there, but quickly put the thought aside. Legolas smiled when he saw her and nodded his head in acknowledgement, his face appeared so soft and gentle in the morning sunlight. Silvren made a quick curtsy in return before quickly taking her seat next to Aragorn.
Aragorn offered her a slight smile as she sat down next to him. “I’m glad you made it.” he glanced over at her.
“So am I.” Silvren smiled in return. “Do you happen to know why father wants me here?” Silvren asked in a hushed tone.
“Nay. It may have something to with your rescuing of Frodo and knowledge of our current issues.” Replied Aragorn.
“Then why isn’t Arwen here? She knows just as much as I.”
“Aye, but she doesn’t bear a certain ring that you do.” Aragorn’s eyes turned to face Silvren with a knowing gleam reflecting in them.
“Oh.” Silvren muttered softly.

“Strangers from distant lands, friends of old, you have been called to this council to answer the treat Mordor is spreading. Middle-earth stands upon the very edge of destruction and no one can escape it. Everyone must unite or all will be lost. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom. Bring forth the Ring, Frodo.” Elrond said firmly, his dark hair stirring with the gentle breeze that blew through the air.
A long, dreadful silence fell over the council as all eyes turned upon Frodo and he glanced nervously around at everyone as his hand slid into his pocket and finger the smooth, golden ring. The Ring flickered in the sunlight as he stood up and drew it out of his small pocket then slowly began to walk towards the stoned pedestal that sat in the middle of the circular terrace. Frodo felt like his feet were like bars of lead as he placed the Ring on top of the finely engraved pedestal then shuffled back to his chair and plopped heavily into the wooden seat. Multicolored leaves fell from the tops of the trees that were behind them and some of the leaves gently floated down onto the terrace. To Silvren the Ring looked slightly different from the first time she had seen it dangling around Frodo’s neck when she had tended to him. It seemed to beckon to her. Its golden hue and the beautiful reflection the sun cast upon it softly enticing her, causing her to want to reach out and touch it. To feel the cold smoothness of the Ring within her hand, to run her fingers along the outside surface and then slip it onto her finger. Silvren shook her head, shaking those appalling thoughts from her mind. She couldn’t believe what had just happened and could help but wonder why when she noticed that her knuckles had turned white from clutching the armrests of her chair too tightly.
The silence still clung to the crisp air until Boromir, the curious man from Gondor that had made Silvren feel an unusual sense of nervousness, quietly spoke his mind.
“So it is true.” he said in a hushed tone. “In a dream, I saw the eastern sky grow dark but in the west a pale light lingered a voice was crying:

Seek for the sword that was broken:
In Imladris it dwells;
There shall be a counsels taken
Stronger than Morgul-spells.
There shall be shown a token
That doom is near at hand,
For Isildur’s Bane shall be waken,
And the Halfling forth shall stand.”

As he had been reciting the poem from his dream, Boromir had stood up from his chair and started walking towards the stone pedestal as all eyes followed him with growing uneasiness, especially those of Elrond and Gandalf. “Isildur’s Bane.” Boromir muttered as he reached out with his hand and dirty fingertips to touch the Ring that sat in the middle of the stone pedestal.
“Boromir!” Elrond jumped out of his elegantly carved throne, snatching the man out of the trance.
“Ash nazg durbatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul.” Gandalf shouted, standing up from his seat. His voice suddenly much more powerful and harsh than Silvren had ever heard before. Dark clouds passed over the high sun and for the moment the terrace grew dark. Everyone trembled within their seats and the other elves stopped their ears as they blocked out the terrifying language that tried to enter their minds.
“Never before has anyone dared utter that tongue here in Imladris.” Elrond said gravely as the clouds departed and sun shone once again upon the council.
“I do not ask for your pardon, Master Elrond, for the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of Middle-earth. The Ring is all together evil.” Gandalf said as he turned to face the council and Elrond resumed his seat.
“It is a gift. A gift given to us by our enemy.” Boromir started before Gandalf had barely turned away from him. “Why not use this Ring against them? Long has my father kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are the lands you own kept safe.” Boromir said standing up once again, and looking from person to person, trying to find someone that would listen to him. Aragorn shifted awkwardly within his seat as he listened to this man continue to rant on about using the Ring. “Give the Ring to Gondor and let us use it against him.”
“You cannot wield it. None of us can. The ring answers to Sauron alone. It had no other master.” Aragorn finally spoke up from where he sat next to Silvren, having had listened enough to the nonsense this son of the steward had said.
“And what would a mere Ranger know of this?” asked Boromir, his eyes studying Aragorn.
“This is no mere Ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn; to him you owe your allegiance.” Legolas said standing to his feet, his face stern with a hint of softness as he gazed at the man from Gondor who had insulted Silvren’s brother.
“Aragorn. This is Isildur’s heir?” Boromir turned to face the reserved Ranger in disbelief and a little resentment.
“And heir to the throne of Gondor.” Legolas added, sending a flame of anger surging through Boromir’s body at his hurtful words.
“Havo dad, Legolas.” Aragorn said calmly as he motioned for the elf to take his seat.
“Gondor has no king.” Boromir seethed to Legolas with eyes full of unspoken anger. “Gondor needs no king.” Boromir muttered as he glared at Aragorn and slowly made his way back to his seat.

Silvren shuddered at the competition and fear that reflected in the man’s eyes as he glared at Aragorn. She didn’t like what she saw in his eyes and her fear only intensified as his eyes shifted in her direction and took on a completely different appearance, one she did not like one bit. It was a look of hunger and longing his eyes held as they drifted across her body. For the first time in her life she felt as if she was standing amongst a crowd with nothing but her undergarments on and everyone had their attention on her. What she had felt when Legolas had been pursuing her in Lórien many years ago was nothing compared to this unwanted and unwelcomed feeling.
“Aragorn is right. We cannot use it against our enemy or anyone at all.” said Gandalf.
“What about Saruman? He is wise in the lore of the Rings. Why is he not present?” Galdor asked from beside Gandalf.
“It would have proven ill to invite him here.” Gandalf said gravely. “For one who was once a strong friend has been corrupted by such a small and powerful object. He too wants the Ring.” Gandalf informed those who had not yet heard the unfortunate news.
“That leaves you with only one choice. The Ring must be destroyed.” Elrond’s blue eyes gazed over the many faces from different lands that had come there for the same purpose.
“Then what are we waiting for?” the dwarf named Gimli asked jumping to his feet, his axe in hand. He brought his axe down upon the Ring, shattering the iron axe and throwing the dwarf backwards onto his back.
The Ring sat among the shards of the broken axe, unharmed and without a single scratch or dint left on its golden surface.
“The ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli son of Glóin, by any craft that we posses. The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom and only there can it be unmade. It must be taken back deep into the black lands of Mordor and cast into the fiery chasm from whence it came. One of you … must do this.” Elrond said as his eyes swept across the seated people of the council.
“One does not simply walk into Mordor.”
Silvren turned her head as Boromir spoke again, a heavy lump forming in the pit of her stomach as she wiggled about in her seat. Aragorn glanced over at her through the corners of his eyes upon her uneasy movement.
“Its black gates are guarded by more than just orcs. There is an evil that resides there and does not sleep. And the great eye,” he said as he formed a circle with his fingers, “is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland, ridden with fire and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with 10,000 men could you do this.” he shook his head. “It is folly.”
“Have you heard nothing that Lord Elrond has told you?” Legolas demanded, jumping to his feet, his blood burning with anger. “The Ring must be destroyed.”
“And I suppose you think you’re the one to do it?” Gimli growled hopping to his feet, glaring at Legolas.
Silvren remained seated with her head cast down and her hands tightly gripping the armrests of her chair as anger slowly began to boil within her. ‘Why don’t they understand what had been said?’ she thought to herself. ‘Why must they all bicker, are they so blind that they do not realize that this is all the doing of the Ring?’
“And if we fail?” Boromir asked Legolas as he stood up out of his seat. “What then? What happens when Sauron takes back what was once his?”
“I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an elf!” Gimli shouted bitterly, he too standing out of his chair.
In an instant, all the elves of Mirkwood, dwarves and Lord Elrond were on their feet, all except Lord Elrond and Legolas bickering amongst themselves as Legolas tried to hold his men back from the dwarves.
“Never trust an elf!” Gimli continued to shout as many of the people stood to their feet and began arguing amongst each other.
“Do you not understand?” Gandalf asked as he approached the quarreling group. “While you bicker among yourselves Sauron’s power still grows?”
Elrond sat back down on the edge of his chair with his arms resting on the armrests and his hands clasped together in frustration as shouting and raised voices echoed in his ears. Then a small voice rose among the bickering voices, “I will take it.”
Gandalf, Silvren, Elrond, and Aragorn turned to face the small voice, though no one else had heard it yet.
“I will take it.” Frodo said as he slowly moved towards the pedestal for everyone to see him, his timid eyes glancing around the crowd. The angry voices quieted as everybody focused their attention on the small hobbit. “I will take the Ring to Mordor.” he said quietly and nervously. “Though, I do not know the way.”
Gandalf looked down at Frodo and took a step towards him as Elrond stood to his feet, the hem of his long, velvet robe brushing the stone floor. “I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear.” the old wizard patted the small hobbit on the shoulder.
Aragorn rose from his seat with a kingly manner and gazed over at the hobbit; everyone else gazing at him with curiosity. “If by my life or death I can protect you, I will.” he said then strode over and knelt in front of Frodo. “You have my sword.”
“And you have my bow.” Legolas said walking over to Frodo and stood beside Gandalf.
“And you shall have mine as well.” Silvren quickly jumped to her feet and walked over to the small group as Legolas and Aragorn glanced at her in surprise. Legolas glanced over at Aragorn then up at Elrond, all three of them sharing the same worried look upon their faces.
“And my axe.” Gimli grumbled as he marched forward and stood beside Silvren. He looked up at her and Legolas and scowled but quickly turned his gaze away.
“You carry the fate of us all, little one.” Boromir said, walking towards the group that had formed in the center of the terrace. Looking up at Elrond h added, “If this indeed be the will of the council, then Gondor will see it done.”
“Hey!” came and unexpected and close voice as Sam jumped to his feet from behind a tall plant that he had been hiding behind. Sam darted under Aragorn’s arm and stood next to Frodo, folding his arms over his chest. “Mister Frodo’s not going anywhere without me.” he stated.
“No indeed!” Elrond’s voice was topped with amusement and laughter danced in his grey eyes. “It is hardly impossible to separate you…even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not.”
“A nice pickle we’ve landed ourselves in, Mr. Frodo.” Sam muttered, shaking his head.
“Oi!” Merry shouted from behind a tall column that he and Pippin had been hiding behind. “We’re coming too!” he shouted as he ran down the stone steps onto the terrace. “You’ll have to send us home tied in a sack to stop us.” Merry stated as he and Pip stood beside Frodo.
“Anyway, you need some people of intelligence on this sort of mission. Quest.” he paused with a thoughtful look on his small face before finishing. “Thing.”
Silvren smiled at Pippin’s remark as she did everything she could not to laugh out loud.
“Well that rules you out, Pip.” Merry whispered to Pippin.
At first Pippin didn’t understand Merry’s comment to be offending, but once he did, he glared at his cousin, though Merry had turned his attention upon Lord Elrond.
“Ten companions.” Elrond said as he scanned the group that stood before him, all having their eyes upon him. “So be it.” he raised his voice for all to hear. “You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring.”
“Great!” Pippin said as he rocked back on his heels, an innocent smile on his pale face. “Where are we going?”

Havo dad= sit down


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