Chapter Four - The Council of Elrond

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"ARINA LEFT THE HALL, REMEMBERING VARDA..."


The next day, Elrond called a council in the early morning, inviting all the visitors to it. Legolas and other elves from Mirkwood were there; and the dwarves from Erebor; Boromir, a man of Gondor; Aragorn, Gandalf, Frodo; elves from Elrond's house hold. All were already present when Arina gracefully swept in, taking her seat between Glorfindel and Aragorn on Elrond's right-hand side. She noticed the looks some of the men and dwarves gave her, but did her best to ignore them. Sometimes, in her eyes, they were simply preposterous with their dislike for female warriors. Elrond gave her an almost apologetic look and rose from his chair, standing tall.

"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old. You have been summoned to answer the thread of Mordor" he began his speech, likely to be rehearsed. Pausing, the ellon looked at the assembled Children of Illúvatar and Aulë. "Middle-Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite, or you will fall."

As always, when the noontide of an age fades into dusk, to turn to night ere the new age arises, Arina thought.

"Each race is bound to this fate — this one doom. Bring forth the Ring, Frodo," Elrond said and gestured towards the small table in the middle of the circular space.

Slowly, Frodo rose from his chair and walked towards the table in front of Arina. He placed the One Ring on top of it and the atmosphere changed rapidly. Some started to whisper to themselves or with their neighbours, including Boromir. "So it is true..." he murmured to himself.

"We have gathered here today, so that all may hear the Tale of the Ring, its history of the Second Age that is unknown to many, though some know what happened to it in the Third Age of this world. After the tale has been recounted, perhaps the purposes of the Enemy and danger of the One Ring will become clear to all."

And the elf-lord in his clear voice began the Tale of the Ring. He told the assembled council of Sauron and the forging of the Rings of Power in the Second Age long ago, of the Elven-smiths of Eregion and their friendship with Moria, their eagerness for knowledge by which Sauron ensnared them. 

"For in that time he was not yet evil to behold, and they had received his aid and grown mighty in craft, whereas he had learned all their secrets, and betrayed them, forging the One Ring secretly in the Mountain of Fire to be their master. But Celebrimbor was aware of him and hid away the Three which he had made; and war had come to Eregion, the land laid waste, the gates of Moria shut."

 Over the following years he traced the Ring, told of the accounts that had been set down in books of lore.
Of Númenor he spoke, its glory and its fall, and the return of the Kings of Men to Middle-Earth out of the deeps of the Sea, borne upon the wings of storm. Then Elendil the Tall and his mighty sons, Isildur and Anárion, became great lords; and the North-realm they made in Arnor, and the South-realm in Gondor above the mouths of Anduin. But Sauron assailed them, and they made the Last Alliance of Elves and Men, and the hosts of Gil-Galad and Elendil were mustered in Arnor. 

Thereupon Elrond paused. "I remember well the splendour of their banners," he sighed. "It recalled to me the glory of the Elder Days and the hosts of Beleriand, so many great princes and captains were assembled. And yet not so many, nor so fair, as when Thangorodrim was broken and the elves deemed that evil was ended forever, yet it was not so."

Elrond picked up his narrative again, telling of the Skirmish at the Gladden Fields where Isildur had passed away, betrayed by the Ring. He told of the waning of the northern realm and the prospering of the southern realm. At long last, he ceased to speak.
The men of Gondor started whispering amongst themselves, casting a look at the Ring then and now. Others, like Legolas and a dwarf with red-brown hair and beard looked at it and she could feel the shadow creep over them. She and Aragorn exchanged a look. "The doom of men," someone whispered.

𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐇: 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆  ( lotr. )Where stories live. Discover now