“I can’t believe that-that-elf!!!” Megan spluttered when Mike had tightly shut the door of his and Brian’s room behind them. She sat down upon the bed, looking dejected.
“I mean, I’ve wanted to go with the fellowship for ages…you know that….” She looked at Mike, waiting for what she said to be affirmed.
“Uh, I think….. I mean, what is the fellowship supposed to be doing, anyways? What happens to them?”
Megan puckered her eyebrows, “Um….. I knew it… I KNOW I did…but now…”
“I wonder why we can’t remember?”
“Well, we aren’t going to be able to find out anytime soon, anyways. Perhaps never. Cuz we can’t go.” Megan put her head in her hands, “I KNOW that this is important, and I know that I would die to go on this journey, but I don’t know why.” she paused, thinking, “Boy, that sounds lame, doesn’t it?”
“Not really,” Mike scratched his chin, looking thoughtful, “No, no it doesn’t. But maybe…”
“Will you speak in plain english?” Megan asked, sounding annoyed.
‘Oh, sorry.” Mike seemed to come out of his reverie. “What I mean, is that we could still go with the fellowship.”
Megan’s eyes glowed. “How? Tell me!”
Mike’s voice dropped into a strange, pitiful, hissing, growling sound. “Sneaking.”
Brian gingerly took the sword Aragorn handed him, slightly surprised. “Um, thanks?”
Aragorn’s dark face was lightened with a smile. “Do not thank me. Elrond ordered that this shall be given to you.”
“Oh,” Brian said, not sure what to say. The “swords” he had used in fencing lessons were much lighter and smaller than the heavy thing that he now strapped around his waist, snugly fit into it’s sheath.
“Hello, Brian.” a warm voice said from behind him. Brian turned,
“Oh. Hi, Borimir.” strangely, Brian felt a strange sensation running up his spine as he looked upon the man. Was it fear-was it apprehension? No, he decided, it probably was just anticipation of the trip.
“Greetings, Aragorn.” Borimir was now speaking to Aragorn. He looked very embarrassed and uncomfortable.
Aragorn took it all in the stride. “Greetings to you, Borimir, son of Denethor.”
Borimir looked obviously embarrassed at Aragorn’s stiff politeness. “Look,’ he said, clearing his throught,” We have a long road ahead of us, and-“
“And you two’d better not be arguing the whole way!” Gandalf had entered the small courtyard were they all stood, unbeknownst to the others, “We have enough, with a dwarf and an elf coming along!”
“Heh! It’s not my fault that elves are such low- good for nothing…” a deep voice rumbled. Gimli had joined them.
“Hush that talk!” said Gandalf sharply, “Especially when you are standing in the midst of those whom you are grumbling about!”
Brian cleared his throught, “Um, just were IS our road, anyways?”
Gandalf smiled. “Here, I will show you on a map.” he began to lead Brian away, but then, as an afterthought, called over his shoulder, “You three’d better come, too. Keep you out of trouble.”
Kaitlyn wandered around aimlessly, wondering at the beauty of the place. She leaned over one of the balconies, enjoying the mist that came from one of the waterfalls.
“Hello?” a clear voice said from behind her. Kaitlyn turned around.
There was a petite, blonde elf sitting on a bench that was set up against one of the buildings.
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize that there was some one else was here. I’ll leave if you-“
“No, no,” the elf laughed, “That’s all right. I don’t mind company. Here,” she patted the bench ,”come and sit down.”
“OK.” When Kaitlyn had seated herself, she said, “I’m Kaitlyn. Who are you?”
She laughed again. It was like bells ringing. “Ninquelótë is my name. Kaitlyn…” she slowly said the name.”That is a name I have not heard before. Of hat language is it’s origin?”
“Greek. I think. It means purity. What’s your um… language of origin?”
Ninquelótë laughed again. Kaitlyn got the feeling that she laughed a lot. “My name originates from the language Quenya, and it means white blossom. I have never heard of this language, ‘Greek’. What people speak this language?”
“It isn’t spoken anywhere any more, I think. It’s a dead language of men.”
“Oh.” she said softly. “Then it does not surprise me that I have not heard before it, for I am young, born just before Arwen, the last born of our people. I still know very little of the world.”
“How old are you?” asked Kaitlyn out of curiosity.
“Hmmmm.. near one thousand five hundred.”
“1500? But… you’re ancient!!!!”
Ninquelótë laughed long and hard. Finally she wiped her tears of laughter away and spoke, “Oh, young one! You forget that elves live long, much longer than man. How old are you?”
“Why, you’re just a baby!”
Kaitlyn’s response was indignant. “No I’m not!”
Ninquelótë smiled, “Man and elves have different perceptions of time, don’t you see?”
Kaitlyn thought about this for a moment. “I guess that makes sense.”
As Ninquelótë laughed again, Kaitlyn felt sure that they would be friends.
Well, I hope you like it! I am not sure about when Arwen was born, so for give me if I made some mistakes with Ninquelótë’s age.
We return to the forests again. Our hobbit friend has lost all faith and finds the true meaning of apathy by the end of this chapter. He is taken captive by a band of elves and one human. This chapter suggests that some of his past will be revealed soon.