to love someone else

Chapter 3: meeting

Elrond walked slowly through the gardens of Rivendell, each step filled with grace and care for the ground he walked on. He peered around for others, but there were none to be found. The sun had not yet grazed the sky this morning, and the dew still laid wet on the grass. Elrond smiled as he felt the cold touch of nature against his bare feet. The time swept by as he walked towards the edge of Rivendell, seeking to grasp the first beams of light that soon would show up in the far away horizon. The first rays of sunlight gently caressed him and filled him with hope for the day that was arriving.

"Mithrandir, how can I help you at this early hour?" Elrond gave out a hearty smile and turned to face the wizard; he was met with a grave look.

"Lord Elrond, we have to talk about the situation we are in. Smaug has fallen and we have won the day. Now we need a plan to secure balance, both in the Woodland Realm of Mirkwood as in Dol Guldur." Gandalf's voice was firm but had a gentle tone. Elrond knew that the wizard did not take him for a fool, just uninformed.

"Two fortnights ago, I called out to the leaders of all the races that surround Mirkwood and the Lonely Mountain. They should be arriving later this day. We will have a summit and create a plan." Elrond's voice sounded ever so graceful, and there was no tone of either arrogance nor pride. It simply sounded like he did what was necessary and expected of him. Gandalf nodded and bowed lightly.

"I should never doubt the line of the Noldor. The wise one today is you, Lord Elrond." Gandalf smiled and took up his pipe. With a caressing touch he lit it, let out a warm chuckle and walked away. The elven lord followed the merry fellow with a contented look. The new day might bring some surprises; it always did when there were visitors about.

...

Aragorn, Gandalf and Aerin reached the place where the council will meet, to find that they were among the last ones there. It seems to be separated by race, as elves, dwarves, and humans sit with only their own people. Or perhaps it's just by group. Either way, there is obvious tension. As Aerin took her seat at beside Frodo, she couldn't help but look for the blonde elf that she saw earlier. Then she thinks of her love, Haldir and how she didn't get a chance to say goodbye as she may never see him again.

Aerin scanned the council members, spotting him quickly between a few other elves. She's the only woman in the council, though she doesn't believe anyone has noticed her. Aerin continued to observe the people around her and she notices a stocky, broad shouldered dwarf with a large reddish brown beard that he obviously takes great pride in. He sits proudly, head held high, with an axe by his side and armour bearing the crest of the people of Durin.

Aerin noticed a human almost directly across from her. He sits apart from the rest of the council and she recognised his more haughty attitude. He's tall, and his features are more refined than the dwarves, but less so than the elves. His face is fair and noble, and he has lighter hair that falls to his shoulders and grey eyes. He wears a fur lined cloak and has a horn edged with silver upon his lap. His fine clothes are slightly stained from his travels. He looks serious, and seems a bit self-imposed.

"Bring forth the Ring, Frodo."

That snapped Aerin out of her trance. She watches him lay the Ring on a stone pedestal, and note that the eyes of all focus on it. She tries to listen as the council convenes, but much of what they say is lost on her. The Ring that is the sole cause of all this clamour and commotion. Aerin stares intently at the golden band, captivated by it. It's beautiful in a way. The light reflects so perfectly off the golden, gleaming metal and the script on it is so elegant and mesmerising. It's beautiful.