These Lovely Scars (Lord of the Rings Fanfic)

A Council

I sit in between two guards, both dressed in emerald green armour. In terms of larger perspective, we are in the Rivendell section, to the right of Lord Elrond who is seated at the head. Outside of the Rivendell sect, I don't recognize any faces. Oh, except for Gandalf, the wizard whose gaze I avoid.

There is a group of Gondorian men, dressed in armour bearing the white tree of Gondor. I know only where they are from, and nothing else. I have lived a life here in Rivendell since the day I was found many years ago, yet I know nothing of the world. I have never set foot outside of Rivendell. By Lord Elrond's order, by my order, who can say?

A group of stocky dwarves are seated next to the men. I cannot be sure, but they might be from the Blue Mountains. Several of them argue fiercely with the group of elves next to them. They are Silvan wood elves of Mirkwood, that I know. They are clad in leaf green material, and have (fabulous, may I say!) fair hair that falls to the middle of their backs in pale curtains.

Excuse me now, I must say how very attractive Silvan elves are. But not my type.

At the end of the group sits two outliers. The wizard and his hobbit companion. Gandalf speaks softly to the little hobbit, who has curly, dark hair and enormous blue eyes. Through the gap in his coat, I think I see a faint glint of gold around a silver chain. It must be the ring.

Elrond filled me in about the history of the ring earlier today. I knew the gist of it, but there were some holes in my understanding of it. It was the One, forged in the fires of Orodruin by the Dark Lord Sauron during the second age of Middle Earth. After a war, it was failed to be destroyed, and lived on. It was lost to knowledge for thousands of years, blah blah blah, until it ensnared a new master, the creature Gollum. Eventually, the ring betrayed Gollum and came to Mister Bilbo Baggins, a hobbit of the Shire. The hobbit here with the ring today is not Bilbo, but his young nephew.

I almost leap with joy when I see the ranger's familiar face. Aragorn, a ranger and one of the Dunédain, was just a boy when he found me in the woods, the first day of my life that I remember. Out of everyone I've met since I began my my life here, I have found that I am closest with Aragorn than any others. He was, after all, the one who found me that day in the forest. We grew up side by side, both raised without any known family. Aragorn is my closest and most trusted friend. I have not seen him for a few weeks, as he was on a mission to find the hobbits and bring them here safely. "Estel!" I cry, jumping from my seat and running into his arms. Everyone is talking loudly, greeting old friends, arguing with other races (ermherm dwarves and elves!). No one notices my absence.

"Adrianne," he says, taking my arm and dragging me into the shadows. "I need to tell you something."

I need to tell you something.

I need to tell you something.

I need to tell you something.

The words echo in my head, unbearably loud. Everything around me goes mute and blurry. I can only hear the words in my head. A wave of pain hits me, and I lose my balance. Aragorn steadies me and hold me up. I bite down on my lip to keep from making any noises of pain and take a deep breath. It's gone as quickly as it came.

Aragorn shakes me lightly. "Adrianne! What happened? Are you alright?"

I take a moment to respond. "I - I don't know. I'm not sure. Something...something about those words. They...they...whatever. It doesn't matter. What did you need to, um, say to me?" I ask, careful to avoid the words.

"It...can wait. We should probably get back over there." He says, and we walk back to the courtyard. Before we part ways to take our seats, he looks me in the eye. "If anything like that happens again, tell me, okay?"