Fellowship of the Ring | Lord of the Rings

The Council of Erlond has gathered, and the last, strange guest has finally arrived.

Will they join the Fellowship of the Ring?

Intro excerpt:

...The murmurs stilled as Elrond stood. His voice was low, but it carried with the weight of ancient wisdom. "Strange indeed is our gathering," he said, "and though much divides us, a common doom unites us."

He spoke then of the Shadow growing in the East, of the Nine who rode now in daylight, of the Ring found anew and the peril it bore. The tale passed between many hands—Gandalf’s voice rising like thunder as he spoke of betrayal and fire, of Isildur’s folly and Sauron’s cunning. Frodo sat pale and still as the story of the Ring’s making and its terrible nature was laid bare.

Gimli rose when the shards of Narsil were brought forth and spoke of Dwarven strength and wrath, his voice like stone breaking the hush. Legolas followed, bearing tidings of Gollum’s escape, and a shadow passed over the faces of the Hobbits. Boromir told of dreams shared with his brother, and his gaze fixed upon the Ring as if some answer lay within its depths. Aragorn remained silent, but his hand rested upon the broken sword, and those who watched him saw the flicker of a lineage long hidden.

The Elves said little, but their silence carried more weight than any speech.

Debate kindled like sparks among dry leaves—who would bear it, who had the strength, whose lands would be first to fall. Words clashed not with swords, but with pride and grief and fear, until even the stone beneath their feet seemed heavy with despair. Some turned to Frodo, others to Elrond. The Ring lay upon the pedestal between them, silent and cold, yet its presence tugged at every soul.

Then Elrond raised his hand, and a hush fell.

"There is yet one who has not come," he said, and his eyes turned toward the steps that led up from the eastern wing of the house. "One whose road has been longer than most, and whose counsel may prove needed ere the day is done."

The wind stirred again, colder now, as if the valley itself drew breath. All turned to look as footsteps echoed softly beyond the archway—a measured tread, deliberate and unhurried. The golden light of morning spilled across the sto