𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐇: 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ( lotr. )

Chapter Three - Rivendell

"THEY GALLOPED AWAY FROM THE CLEARING AND HEADED EAST TO RIVENDELL..."

✧ ☫ ✧

At dawn of the next day, they reached Rivendell where an elf was already waiting for them. Lithônion. He beckoned them to him and told them.

"The halflings will go with Dûrion, Glandur and Idhrenion who will show them to their chambers. They will also provide help if needed. Lord Elrond wishes for you all to rest; you have ridden through the night."

He waved his hand towards the little hobbits who looked at his companions uncertainly. Arina nudged Sam to make him follow the elves. Lithônion turned to Aragorn.

"Lady Arwen is awaiting you in her chambers as soon as you have bathed and changed, my lord."

He does need a bath...

Arina couldn't help the thought that came to her, seeing the ranger's sticky hair and dirt-stained clothing. Aragorn nodded and threw a glance at her, as if to ask her permission. Arina smiled in response and moved her head a little to show him it was alright. She appreciated his concern, but couldn't help the tiny smirk that crept onto her face as she watched him hurry away. Her parents and family had never been perfect, but it was not hard to see the love that Aragorn held for Arwen.

Finally, Elrond's messenger turned towards her. "And my lady, your presence is required in the other halfling's room."

Her presence was required in Frodo's room? Arina wondered what the meanig of this was. Hopefully nothing bad had happened to him. Quickly, she made her way through the familiar corridors, following the ellon. He opened the door to Frodo's room and closed it again after she had entered.

Elrond was sitting on a chair next to Frodo, who was still fading fast. But his face was grey and grave, and the usual shine of his eyes was absent as he looked up at her from his seat next to the hobbit.

"I cannot help him. Some part of the Morgul blade must still be inside his wound, but I cannot find it. That is why I have called for you," he explained, worry etched over his face.

Arina simply stared at him. She had told him about her past, her terrifying past. Though she was the daughter of his beloved daughter and the man he would not give her hand to, he had grown to care for Arina and at last realised who she was. This couldn't be; he was relying on her abilities.

"You can feel it. You may be as any half-elf, but the Flame of Anor still burns brightly in you. You can sense it. Haerelneth..." he said quietly, "if you don't, Frodo will be beyond all rescue. You know what the shards of a Morgul-knife do."

Arina swallowed hard and walked to the bed. She raised a hand and put it over the wound, closing her eyes. Frodo's entire aura was white, fading into black, but she focused on the source of it. The darkness that was the shard of the Witch-King's knife stood black against the faded greyness. So close to the heart. She opened her eyes again. 

"It's already close to fulfilling its purpose. We must hurry."

Carefully, Elrond cut open the skin at the point she showed. Frodo screamed and writhed in pain, but she put her weight on him, restraining the hobbit. The ellon lifted the shard out of the hobbit's flesh and dropped it into a porcelain bowl he had put next to Frodo's bed. 

"Take this to the blacksmiths and tell them to melt it. Keep Elladan and Elrohir out of it."

She nodded and curtsied before leaving him. Before she closed the door, she got a glance of Elrond murmuring in Sindarin.