The Edge of Night

The Council of Elrond

Elfwyn is awakened the next morning by a soft knock on the door. It is Arwen, the daughter of Lord Elrond, and she didn't come alone. In her hands is a dress made of the finest silk.

She looks up, surprised. "Oh, thank you." She says quietly.

"Think nothing of it. It is the least we can do." She says and closes the door behind her. "I brought one of my dresses for you to wear." She continues, holding it up so that Elfwyn may see it.

"It's beautiful. I had heard stories of the way Elvish dresses were designed but seeing them in person, well it is like every part of your culture, absolutely breathtaking. But you didn't have to do that. It's too beautiful for me to wear."

"Of course I did. Everyone deserves to feel like a princess, especially a princess. Plus, there's some residual benefits. Those men are going to be pig-headed enough about a woman sitting amongst them, you need to look every bit of the royal you are. It's the only way they'll quiet themselves long enough for anything to get done." She says with a wink.

After cleaning herself with the bowl and pitcher in the room, Arwen helps her get the dress on. "Oh I was right! You look exquisite." She adds, pulling her arm until she is standing in front of a mirror.

Elfwyn couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of this dress. The legends of the elves were proving to be true. She braids her hair and wraps it around the crown of her head in a way that is traditional to the women of Rohan before Arwen leads her from the room.

They stop just short of the courtyard where the meeting will be taking place. "This is where I leave you." Arwen says.

She turns to look at her, alarmed. "Will you not be joining the council?"

She offers a small smile. "I think it's going to get a little too intense for my liking." Elfwyn thought of all the groups I saw on the way to her room last night and she couldn't help but agree. "Good luck, and remember, you deserve to be there."

She nods and gulps nervously, before slowly making her way to an open seat at the end of the half circle, next to a man with dark hair and eyes the most brilliant shade of gray. Gandalf walks over to greet her.

"It is good see you again, my lady." He says quietly.

"You as well Gandalf. How was your meeting with Saruman?" She asks nervously.

"I'm afraid your fears are not as unfounded as I had hoped."

She starts wringing her hands. "So the worse has come. And I have left my kingdom, my people defenseless." She rises, ready to face whatever consequences are waiting for her at home if it means protecting her people. The man sitting next to her grabs her arm, keeping her there. She turns to look at him harshly.

"Do not think of him too harshly, my lady. This is Aragorn. He's a friend of Rohan." Gandalf explains. "He rode into battle with Thengal."

"You do not look old enough to have known my grandfather that intimately, my lord."

"Not everything is at it appears Your Highness." He says, a slight smirk on his face. Realization dawns on her.

"You are of the Dunedain." She says simply. He just nods. "I have so many questions I want to ask you later."

He smiles. "Of course, my lady."

Before the conversation can go further, Lord Elrond steps forward and all of the conversation cease. "Strangers from distant lands, friends of old, you have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it." She takes a moment to look around. Elves, men, dwarves, and hobbits. Most of the free peoples were represented here today. "You will unite or you will fall." Her eyes meet Aragorn's and she sees her own fears reflected in his. "Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom." He turns to the hobbit sitting next to Gandalf. "Bring forth the Ring, Frodo."

She watches in fascinated horror as this little hobbit places the Ring of Sauron on the stone table. "It cannot be." She hears it call out to her, whispers of a promise of a return to Rohan, the protection of her people, the ability to marry whom she chooses. Dark promises, empty promises. A harsh whisper floods the valley and a feeling of uneasiness overcomes her. As she looks around she observes that she is not the only one affected by it.

Her eyes snap up when one of the men from Gondor stands up. She recognizes him from a political trip her father took her and her brother on when they were children. This was Boromir, eldest son of the Steward of Gondor. He got along well with Theodred and Eomer but scoffed when Eowyn and her tried to join them. His brother had been much nicer. "In a dream, I saw the eastern sky grow dark, but in the West a pale light lingered. A voice was crying, 'Your doom is near at hand. Isildur's Bane is found'." He explains while reaching for the ring.

"Boromir!" Elrond and Elfwyn yell out as Gandalf starts yelling in Black Speech. The sky grows dark and the earth starts to rumble. The elves are affected, each clutching their head, and Boromir turns around, terrified.

As soon as Gandalf is done, though, the sky instantly lightens. Boromir sits down, but not before Elfwyn can see the cold sweat he's now covered in. "Never before has any voice uttered the words of that tongue here in Imladris." Elrond says, looking at Gandalf accusingly.

Gandalf did not look the slightest bit put out by this admonishment. "I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond, for the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the West! The Ring is altogether evil." He says before returning to his spot beside Frodo.

"It is a gift." Boromir begins and many of those gathered could not help but roll their eyes. It was clear that the years had not changed him. "A gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this Ring? Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people, are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him."

"That is not a good idea. I remember your father well. The Ring is about as safe in Gondor, in the possession of your father, as it would be with a petulant child." Elfwyn says, speaking up for the first time.

"And you believe it safe in Rohan?" He asks, incredulously. She narrows her eyes, ready to defend her people and ultimately say that it is not safe anywhere. But before she can even form a sentence, Aragorn interrupts.

"You cannot wield it. None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master."

"And what would a Ranger know of this matter?" Boromir asks.

One of the elves from the Mirkwood party leaps from his seat, jumping to Aragorn's defense. "This is no mere Ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance."

This shocks her. This man is the true heir of Gondor, the one destined to unite the kingdoms of Man. His expression remains impassive but it is clear he didn't want this to come out. And it makes sense, if he'd been trying to maintain anonymity. Among the many lessons she had to sit through growing up, learning the royal lineage of each kingdom in Middle Earth was the one that was stressed the most as those would be her marrying options.

Realization dawns on Boromir's face before it pales slightly. "Aragorn? This is Isildur's heir?"

"And heir to the throne of Gondor."