Chapter 6

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Frodo buttoned up his shirt as he walked outside marveling at the architecture. Eloquently made towers and building stood upon cliffs and mountains. A clean lake streamed below him never running out by the large waterfall near it. Beautiful designs were stenciled into buildings. Everything was filled with sunlight. It was calm, just like the Shire. Trees dotted the pathway he and Sam walked along.

Pippin and Merry were certainly happy to see him. They jumped and laughed hugging each other like it was months since they had seen each other. They all moved out of they was to give a clear path to an old man sitting on one of the benches writing in a book. The old hobbit stood up to be embraced by his nephew.

"Hello, Frodo, my lad." They went back into Frodo's room. Bilbo showed Frodo his book, explaining how he wanted to go adventuring, but his old age seemed to catch up with him. Frodo flipped through the pages in amazement and wonder, until he came across one of the Shire. He had never thought about how homesick he was.

"I miss the Shire. I spent all my childhood pretending I was off somewhere else. Off with you, on one of your adventures." He gazed at his uncle. "My own adventure turned out to be quite different." He was disappointed his had not been like his uncle's. Like the one in Bilbo's stories. "I'm not like you, Bilbo."

Bilbo put a hand on Frodo's cheek. "My dear boy."

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"We can ask no more of Frodo." Gandalf said. The poor hobbit has done enough. Elrond gritted his teeth. He understands Gandalf care for the Halfling, but that does not matter. "Gandalf, the enemy is moving. Sauron's forces are massing in the East. His Eye is fixed on Rivendell."

He put his hand on the table and sighed. He hated doing this to a young one but it has to be done. "And Saruman, you tell me, has betrayed us. Our list of allies grows thin."

Gandalf clenched his staff. "His treachery runs deeper than you know. By foul craft, Saruman has crossed orcs with goblin-men. He's breeding an army in the caverns of Isengard. An army that can move in sunlight and cover great distance at speed. Saruman is coming for the Ring."

All the more reason to get it out of Rivendell, Elrond thought. "That evil cannot be concealed by the power of the Elves. We do not have the strength to fight against both Mordor and Isengard." Gandalf began to make for the door. "Gandalf," he stopped. "The Ring cannot stay here."

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Beings of middle earth arrived days later by horseback to Rivendell by the letter of a meeting to discuss the Ring.

A man with jaw length brown hair and beard, Boromir, son of Denethor arrived on a brown stallion.

A group of Woodland Elves, the leader, Legolas. An elf with long straight blonde hair and bright blue eyes strode in on white horses.

Dwarves, the son of Gloin, Gimli, a dwarf with matted orange hair and beard who also came.

"Whom will you look to in times of need?"

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"Stranger from distant lands, friends of old, you have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor." Elrond looked around at the members in the council. He saw familiar faces.

Boromir, son of the steward of Gondor, a man, sat next to Aragorn. Legolas, a fellow elf, but one of the Woodland Elves, he knew his father. Gloin and Gimli, some of many dwarves, they sat close to Boromir and farthest away from the elves.

His eldest daughter, Elysium, the daughter he had with a half-elven woman. Her light green eyes held a calm aura despite the situation. Her long black hair was pinned loosely into a messy bun. There were no blemishes on her tan skin. The male council members stared hungrily at her. Some looked at her with distaste. She sat by her old friend Legolas and Gandalf, and young Frodo whom sat beside Gandalf.

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