Thilia the heir of Durin is going on a mission to destroy the one ring, she's going with 2 men, one elf, one dwarf, a wizard and four little hobbits.
***
There's much that needs to be done and as next in line for the throne of Erebor, Thilia is str...
A hand traces runes on a pale slab of stone, nestled in the deep forests of Rivendell. 'Gilraen', it reads. 'Onen i-Estel Edain, ú-chebin estel anim.' (I gave Hope to the Dúnedain, I have kept no hope for myself). The hand reaches out, pulling a clump of moss from the grove of a letter, wiping leaf-litter and mud from an edge of the stone, pulling free entwining branches gathering over the smooth, stony hands of a statue.
Aragorn, kneeling, lifts his head. He gazes into the solemn eyes of the statue, a woman in a cloak and hood. Aragorn touches her face. "Anirne hene beriad i chên în. Ned Imladris nauthant e le beriathar aen." (She wanted to protect her child. She thought that in Rivendell you would be safe.) Elrond says as he appears walking towards Aragorn through the trees. "In her heart, your mother knew you'd be hunted all your life. That you'd never escape your fate." he adds.
"The skill of the Elves can reforge the sword of Kings, but only you have the power to wield it." Elrond says as he watches Aragorn, "I do not want that power. I have never wanted it." he says softly, "You are the last of that bloodline. There is no other." Elrond states and Aragorn's head dips sadly.
***
On a bedside table, a hand folds back a homespun cloth to reveal a short sword in a scabbard. Bilbo picks it up and hands it to Frodo. "My old sword, Sting! Here! Take it, take it!" Bilbo states excitedly, Frodo unsheathes the sword and examines it. It rings as Frodo draws it, glinting. "It's so light!" Frodo says as he holds it up with a smile, "Yes... yea — made by the Elves, you know. The blade glows blue when Orcs are close." Bilbo explains leaning in closer to add.
"And it's times like that, my lad, when you have to be extra careful!" Bilbo then brings out a mail shirt. It shines, simple, yet beautifully adorned with intricate patterns in the mail. "Here's a pretty thing — Mithril! As light as a feather... and as hard as dragon scales! Or so Rynnyl says. Let me see you put it on. Come on." Frodo begins to unbutton his shirt. As he does, the Ring is revealed. Bilbo sees it.
"Oh... M-my old Ring! Oh, I sh-sh-should very much like... to hold it again, one last time." Bilbo's eyes light up and he wrings his hands, his eyes focused on the Ring. Frodo begins to cover it up. Bilbo smiles faintly in an almost grandfatherly manner. Suddenly, transformed by the power of the Ring, he lashes out. His eyes grow round, ringed in purple shadows, his teeth are like yellowed fangs in his mouth, stretched open wide as he utters a strangled cry.
Frodo, startled, backs away, clutching his hand over the Ring. Bilbo returns to normal. Bilbo's eye show surprise at his transformation. He cowers back, his voice strained. "I'm sorry I brought this upon you, my boy... I'm sorry that you must carry this burden." He sits down on the bed, weeping. "I'm sorry for everything!" Frodo places a reassuring hand on Bilbo's shoulder. Bilbo reaches back and puts his own hand on Frodo's. He continues to weep in sorrow.
***
Thilia was getting ready to leave when Dramir came in, he barely knocked but she wasn't bothered. "I thought you went home last night," she said as she buckled on her bracers, not looking at her brother. "I did but Thorin wanted me to give you something and so did mother." looking at her brother now she saw that he held a wrapped object and a small box. Setting whatever she had in her hands down she moved over to him.
"What are these?" she asked as he set them down on the bed, "Thorin insisted that you take a weapon he made for you, with you," Dramir said as he unwrapped a long dagger and held it out to his sister. Pulling the blade from its sheath she looked it over and marveled at how it looked. "He wanted you to have this as his way of apologizing," Dramir said and set down the box next.
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"Mom had a feeling you'd need this," he said and opened the box. Inside is the necklace their mother used to wear when she was with their father before he died. It's a beautiful dragon pendant with a white/clear/rainbow stone. It had been a wedding gift to their mother, and she'd told them it would go to Thilia because she takes after their father more and her need to mate for life is the same.
Dramir has the same desire but it's a lot more muted. "What's this for?" she asked as she picked the necklace up from the box." Dramir chuckled. "It's for that human you've claimed," he said and she stared at him in shock. He chuckled and patted her shoulder, "Have a nice journey sister," he teased before leaving.
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***
In a glade beneath an old stone arch, the Fellowship gathers to bid farewell to Rivendell. Elrond speaks to them, gazing sternly at the faces before him. Frodo stands, listening, slightly apart from the others; leaves flutter to the earth. "The Ring-bearer is setting out on the Quest of Mount Doom. On you who travel with him no oath nor bond is laid, to go further than you will. Farewell. Hold to your purpose. May the blessings of Elves and Men and all free folk go with you."
Elrond spreads his arms, and Legolas and Aragorn bow their heads, hands upon hearts. Thilia and Boromir give a slight bow before shifting to move out. "The Fellowship awaits the Ring-bearer." Gandalf says as he watches Frodo, Frodo, turns and walks forward, uncertainly. Before him, the path winds away to either side. Frodo whispers softly to Gandalf, "Mordor, Gandalf, is it left or right?"
And without missing a beat Gandalf says, "Left." The Fellowship departs beneath an old arch of lichen-encrusted stone. Aragorn remains where he stands, and turns to Arwen. Across the path between them they gaze into one another's eyes. Arwen's face is sorrowful; Aragorn smiles faintly, and nods a farewell. He walks out. Arwen breaks off her gaze, looking down.
