Last of a Race: A Legolas Greenleaf fiction

Council of Elrond

Like many others, she had come to Rivendell to answer Elrond's summoning.

A council was to be held to determine the fate of Middle-Earth. Members from each race would be there, which, again, is why she had come.

Ora was the last of her kin, the Wolf Walkers. Creatures that resembled both man and beast.

It was Aragorn who greeted her when she arrived in the last homely house, east of the sea.

"Long has it been since I laid eyes upon you. You've grown." She gave Aragorn a smile and he pulled her into a hug.

"Of course I've grown. I was but a child, last we met." He replied.

Aragorn had spent many years of his early childhood in Rivendell. And Ora had been around for them.

For some reason unbeknownst to her, Aragorn had quickly taken to her when he was very small. He could oft be found, his little hands around her furry, wolf tail as he trailed behind her through the halls as she went about her days.

And even now, Aragorn was quite fond of the She-Wolf, whom he considered a motherly figure.

"I believe we have a council meeting to attend?" She raised her brows and flattened her canine like ears against her head.

Aragorn chuckled and pulled that tail of hers, before taking her hand and leading her towards the secret council.

•••

She nodded at Elrond, a wordless greeting as she took a seat next to Aragorn.

"Why is there a woman at the council?" Someone whispered from her right.

"What race is she?" Came another whisper.

Most of the males seemed to be content with murmurs and whispers of disagreement to her attendance, except one man. This man obviously felt the need to rise, and confront her business there.

"The councils of men are no place for a woman. Why not go giggle over dresses and fashion with the other females?" He suggested as he made a shooing motion with his hands.

Ora let out a sigh at his ignorance. "I have seen and participated in battles and wars that you can not fathom. I am older than every being here. You would do well to show respect." She replied with narrowed eyes.

He grumbled out something about being the son of the Steward of Gondor as he settled himself back into his seat.

Finally Elrond stood and cleared his throat. "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. You will unite or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate--this one doom." He gestured towards a young hobbit. "Bring forth the Ring, Frodo."

She watched as the halfling, Frodo stood up and placed a ring on a pedestal, in the middle of the council. He sat back down, his eyes not leaving the accursed thing, even though his eyes shone with relief at no longer having to carry its burden.

"So it is true.. ." The man who had earlier tried to get rid of her, looks entranced. "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 stood and moved towards the ring. With fingers outstretched, he made as if he would take it.

Elrond leapt up. "Boromir!" He cried loudly.

As if sensing the rising and beginnings of conflict, the ring began emitting a harsh chant in the black language. Upon hearing it, Gandalf, an elderly wizard, leapt from his seat.