The Elf with Silver Hair

Chapter 10

Nínímiel was sat silently in the back of the boat. Before her, was Legolas and Gimli. They were talking with each other, but Nínímiel had no need to join the conversation. Her thoughts lingered on the time she had spent with Aragorn before the quest when it was just them.

"I have taken my worst wound at this parting, having looked my last upon that which is fairest. Henceforth I will call nothing fair unless it be her gift to me." Gimli spoke, bringing her back to the present.

"What was her gift?" Legolas ask.
"I asked her for one hair from her golden head. She gave me three."

The Fellowship float along the Anduin. Alagos was walking on the shore, keeping an eye on Nínímiel. As they stop for the night, she gallops to her elf, neighing loudly and throwing her head in happiness.

The elleth laughs as she sees Aragorn and Boromir talk about something. She looks over to camp to see Sam trying to get Frodo to eat. She walks over, as she can tell Frodo needs her more.

"I'm alright." Nínímiel hear Frodo say.
"You are not. We're here to help you, Mr Frodo." She speaks from behind them.
They turn around, startled.

"I promised Gandalf I would help you," Sam says in a pleading voice.
"You can't help me, Sam. Not this time. Get some sleep." Frodo answers in a cold voice.

"Frodo! Eat." Nínímiel's voice is stern as she looks down on the hobbit.
He looks at her and seems to go back to his kind self as he nods and follows Sam.

The elleth chose to walk away from camp with Alagos, wishing to be alone. As she walked she could hear the two men of the Fellowship talking.

"Minas Tirith is the safer road. You know that. From there we can regroup. Strike out for Mordor from a place of strength." The voice of Boromir was almost pleading.

"There is no strength in Gondor in Gondor that can avail us!" Aragorn's voice was quiet.

"You were quick enough to trust the Elves. Have you so little faith in your own people? Yes, there is weakness. There is frailty. But there is courage also, and honour to be found in Men. But you will not see that." Boromir continues pleading, his voice almost breaking.

"You are afraid! All your life, you have hidden in the shadows. Scared of who you are, of what you are." The voice of Boromir turned angry as he accuses the ranger.

Nínímiel grew angry at this and almost made herself known before Aragorn answered the man.
"I will not lead the Ring within a hundred leagues of your city!"

The elf chose to leave the men alone, instead returning to the camp. Aragorn was sitting by the fire when she approached him. Nínímiel stayed quiet as she sat down next to him, but put her hand on his shoulder to show her support.

Aragorn put his hand over hers and held it.
"Hannon le."
Nínímiel didn't answer. She squeezed his shoulder as she stayed by his side.

The next morning, everyone is in the boats again, rowing down the Anduin. Nínímiel was watching Aragorn as he taps Frodo on the shoulder.
"Frodo. The Argonath! Long have I desired to look upon the kings of old. My kin."

The Fellowship looks up in awe at the towering splendour of the Argonath. Two majestic statues, carved out of the mountain, proudly stand on each side of the Anduin. Their left arms are held aloft, their palms facing outwards in a gesture of warning. Stern were their faces. The Fellowship reaches the foot of Amon Hen, the Hill of Sight.

As they reach the beach of Parth Galen, Boromir looks troubled and appears to be fighting a conflict within him. The Fellowship starts to make camp.