III

Sam awoke slowly, his feet cold and his back achy.  The breeze kicked up a few of the deeply golden leaves around him and he breathed in the damp air.  The mornings had grown colder since their arrival in Lórien, and with the dawn came a faint but chilling mist.  What’s more, he had more and more trouble sleeping as the days wore on.  Though Frodo had told him not to pay heed to the visions in the mirror, those images refused to leave him and returned each night with greater ferocity.  He did not truly want to leave the Wood, or face the journey across the mountains again, but at the same time the Shire pulled at his heart, the folk he knew there dancing round his head like ghosts across the barrows.

It was in the mornings, after those dreams, that Sam missed Gandalf the most.  Gandalf would know exactly what the signs meant, and would tell them what to do.

Sam got up and glanced down at the ground, where Frodo’s blanket lay crumpled and abandoned.  Merry and Pippin sat a few yards away, tending a small cooking fire and chatting quietly, showing no signs that anything was amiss, but Sam still felt his heart leap and frowned about the wood, looking for some trace of his companion. 

Pippin glanced over and waved.  ‘Do you want some?’ he asked, gesturing towards the pan.  ‘It’s some Elvish thing, bit like oatcakes.’

‘There’s only four left,’ added Merry, giving his cousin a slightly chiding look.

 ‘Where did Frodo go?’ Sam asked.

‘For a walk, he said,’ Pippin replied.  ‘He went off that way.’

Sam nodded, frowning, and followed Pippin’s directions off into the trees.

‘Don’t you want any breakfast?’ Merry called after him, but got no reply.

Sam walked a long while and was a fair distance beyond the wall of Caras Galadhon before he caught up with Frodo.  He spotted his friend up ahead, moving slowly with his head low, and immediately Sam broke into a run.

‘Mister Frodo,’ he shouted.  Frodo turned and looked blankly at him.

‘What’s the matter, Sam?’

Sam hesitated.  ‘Well, nothing I suppose.  Just I wondered if you were all right, what with you leaving so early and all…’

‘It’s not so early!  And I’m fine, Sam,’ said Frodo.  ‘I just needed to think.’  He let out a quiet laugh.  ‘Hard to do that with your snoring…’

‘I don’t snore,’ Sam protested.  ‘Anyhow, the others’ve made breakfast, not that there’ll be much left by now I reckon.’

‘I’m not hungry.’

‘Me neither,’ sighed Sam, following Frodo as he wandered farther into the wood. 

‘You’re not?’ Frodo asked him, looking slightly surprised.

‘I just wish if we were going home, we’d get going.  Now you don’t have the ring, there’s no reason for us to stay here.  There’s nothing more we can do here.  And what I saw…what the Lady showed me…if that’s true, then we ought to be getting back to the Shire.’

‘Things have changed, Sam.  We’re not on the same path as we were…’

‘Doesn’t mean there’s not trouble back home,’ said Sam.  ‘And I can’t sit here eating Elvish oatcakes and singing songs while I know there might be bad things happening to my folk.’

‘We can’t go alone.’

‘I know.  But I thought we could ask Strider.  He said he might go to Rivendell and ask Elrond what he’s to do.  We could go with him, just like Gandalf told us to.  And maybe the road’ll be safer now.  The Black Riders oughtn’t to trouble you.’

‘No,’ mused Frodo.  ‘I suppose not.  Perhaps things will be safe now that the Ring is here.  Though I will be sad to leave.’

‘At least that ring has someone now who can tame it.  I don’t claim to know about Elf magic, Mister Frodo, but what I saw that night showed me there’s a lot of power here, such as we can only imagine.  Better if we just go and leave them to it, and we can make a start at getting back to normal…’

‘Listen, Sam!’ Frodo whispered, raising his hand to stop Sam’s next barrage of persuasion.  Sam edged forward and tried to follow Frodo’s gaze, but all he saw were trees and flowers, merging into a haze in the distance.  But then after a while he discerned a shadow that seemed out of place, something moving cautiously from bush to bush, but still too quick for Sam to make out its true shape.

‘The creature has returned,’ said a voice, seeming to come from nowhere.  Both Hobbits jumped a little in fright, as the elf Haldir stepped calmly between them.  Neither one had heard him, or his two fellow wardens, approaching.  ‘We have watched it for a while.  It seems to be circling the city, edging closer.  I must compliment its persistence and its agility.’

The undergrowth fell still and silent.  Gollum, skulking somewhere about ten yards away from the group, had evidently spotted his pursuers.

‘What will you do with him?’ asked Frodo.

Haldir sniffed at the air.  ‘Lord Celeborn has given orders that he be captured and brought back to the city to answer questions, now that Aragorn has told us what the creature is.  Beyond that, his fate will be in the Lord and Lady’s hands.’

Haldir gestured to the other elves and the three spread out, eventually disappearing into the woods.  Frodo remained rooted to the spot, watching the place where Gollum had last been.

‘I shouldn’t like to be that Gollum,’ remarked Sam.

Frodo didn’t answer.  He gave the woods one last, heedful glance and then turned away, heading back towards the city of the trees.

They made their way slowly back to Caras Galadhon, though only Sam kept up the conversation on his own for the most part.  Finally when they returned to the pavilion, they found Merry and Pippin gone.  Shortly after they stepped into the clearing, however, Sam and Frodo saw another figure approaching along one of the woodland paths.

Legolas smiled faintly in greeting, but his expression generally was one of preoccupied concern.  He headed directly for the stairs that coiled around the trunk of the nearest mallorn.

‘Will you come?’ he asked them.

‘Where?’ asked Sam.

‘To the Lord and Lady.  We are all summoned.’

~*~

Frodo thought instantly of the Council of Elrond as he stepped up onto Galadriel’s talan, though the assembly of elves there seemed far more austere and imposing.  Whereas Elrond had commanded respect and attention in a subtle, almost gentle way, the Galadhrim seated in a ring around the Lord and Lady’s chairs drew the eye more by their severity.  Several amongst them wore gilt armour, and Frodo found himself thinking of all the stories he had heard, either in the Shire or since he started on his journey; tales of ancient battles when the Elves fought the evil things of the world.

Merry, Pippin, Aragorn and Gimli were present also, though Boromir was nowhere to be seen.  Legolas strode directly to his place, but Frodo and Sam, feeling incredibly conspicuous as they arrived, last of their group, slipped over to their fellows and tried to settle into their chairs as noiselessly as possible.  Frodo threw a glance towards Aragorn as if to say ‘what is going on?’ but Aragorn simply gave a wary look and concentrated again on the two empty thrones.

Finally then, the murmur of conversation died down a little and Celeborn entered, sombre like the rest of his kin.  He gave Frodo a respectful and knowing nod as he sat down, then moments later Galadriel came to his side.  Frodo was not sure what he had expected, if he thought Galadriel might have changed or not, but her appearance stunned him nonetheless.  She seemed far larger than before, even though she had towered over the Hobbits when they first arrived.  Though the radiance all Elves seemed to possess still shone and gave a lustrous quality to her skin, somehow Frodo had the impression of solidity: that Galadriel had grown more real since their last meeting.  Glancing around the company, he could not tell if the awe they showed was the same as when they were first introduced to the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood, or if they too could see the change.  Perhaps it took one who knew the burden to recognise its effects upon others, he mused. 

He could not see the Ring, but Frodo noticed a light silver chain about Galadriel’s neck, disappearing beneath the white fabric of her dress.  He knew in his heart that the Ring was there.  His skin prickled, the same way it did when one of his lesser-loved relatives was in the room. 

‘Many tales have been recounted these past days,’ said Galadriel with great deliberation, ‘and the glory of the Elder Days has been often on our lips.  Yet now is not the hour to muse upon the past.  Too long have we sat about and wept for lands and days that are lost.  Too long have we mourned those who died, whether for a cause or for none.  Now is not the time to pity ourselves and think how sore our lot is.  It is the time to consider how we are to live.  By now you all will know what Frodo Baggins brought past our borders.  Know now that I have it.  I make no secret of that fact.  It was offered to me and I accepted.  For no longer can we sit in the shadow of the trees and hope that the world will right itself some day, or sit content in the knowledge that we may flee into the West if things grow too uncertain.  Not all of us have that luxury.’

She cast a glance towards Celeborn, then rose, clasping her hands gently in front of her.  ‘We have thought since the beginning of this Age that our time had ended.  No realm suffered greater in the battles of the Second Age than those of Amdir and of Oropher.  Sorely we know how diminished are our numbers!  Yet we need consider ourselves a scattered, powerless race no longer.  Too long we have feared the Shadow, knowing that with a stroke he might destroy what little remained of Elvendom in Middle-earth.  Things, however, have changed.  His power is no longer in the grasp of some cowering creature in a cave, or a man easily deceived.  It has found its way to a hardy folk, who braved the perils of the wilderness and brought it safely here, where it might be controlled.  Tamed.’

Frodo listened, finding his eyes drawn to the silver chain.  If he looked hard enough, he could almost make out the shape of the Ring beneath the fabric of her dress, moving with her as she breathed.  It took great effort to tear his gaze away.

‘Yet,’ Galadriel continued, ‘to think ourselves strong and safe simply because this thing has come to us would be folly.  The Ring was not made for our kind to wield.  It does not want to be used for good, and pines for its master.  And he will not rest knowing that his enemy of old possesses it.  Sauron’s forces have already left the boundaries of Mordor and are moving across the South.  If the Men of Gondor and Rohan can withstand him, then we will have time, but he will use whatever power he has, whatever servants he can spare, and will consider naught but their destruction, so that he might bring his army to our doorstep.  We must be ready.’

Aragorn straightened slightly in his chair.  For a moment he lowered his gaze, with an air of mournful contemplation.

‘There are too few of us to think of open war,’ Galadriel went on.  ‘With all the might of Númenor behind us, with the hosts of Rivendell and Lindon at our sides, still we scraped but a hollow, hard-won victory.  We cannot arm ourselves and go to Mordor, thinking to destroy Sauron yet.  Moreover, were we to confront the Dark Lord, his Ring would engineer some way to return to him, and then all would truly be lost.  Instead we must think back to the old ways, to the days of Menegroth and Gondolin.  We must fortify the north against his incursion, make safe these lands and only then can we think to build an army bold enough to tackle Mordor.  But before our defences can be wrought, we must be sure that the shadow is fully gone from our lands.’

‘Dark things still move in my father’s realm,’ said Legolas.  ‘Spies of the Enemy abound.’

‘Already the Dark Lord thought to coax the dragons in the north into his service,’ added Celeborn.  ‘Any defences we set here would simply be eroded by his servants out of Mirkwood.  He would use them to spy upon us and find our weaknesses.’

‘Agreed,’ said Galadriel, ‘that is the first matter we must deal with.  Years ago, Gandalf the Grey spoke to our council and bade us bring war to the darkness that is in Mirkwood.  Years ago we thought we had forced the evil out of that stronghold, yet the shadow has remained.  Some part of Sauron’s malevolence still broods there and until it is defeated, we cannot think to face the forces of Mordor.  Dol Guldur, therefore, shall be our first battlefield.’

‘You think to attack again?’ asked Legolas.

‘Legolas Thranduilion, your journey has already been arduous, yet we would ask but one more thing of you.  If you would take this letter to your father: I ask that he would muster what arms he has and join with our people in this assault.  We would not think to set ourselves apart from our kin, now that this power comes to Lórien.  It is not for Lórien alone, but for all the free folk of Middle-earth.  King Thranduil would be most welcome as our ally in the new age that will come.’

‘My Lady,’ answered Legolas.  He stood up and bowed, before taking the letter from Celeborn.  ‘I will do as you wish.  But as you said, my father’s people suffered the greatest losses when that Last Alliance went to war.  We are few and the older ones still remember how their hearts broke when their kin were slain.  I fear it will not be easy to rouse them from their caves and bring them to war again.’

‘So we expected,’ said Galadriel.  ‘And none shall think ill of Thranduil, if he chooses to remain within his halls.  But it is our hope that others might come to aid us in this cause.  For it shall not only be the Elves of the wood that benefit, should we make the north safe from the Shadow.’

She glanced at each of the assembled company in turn, but looked to Gimli for the longest time.  He shuffled in his seat and seemed (as far as Frodo could see at any rate) to turn a little redder around the cheek. 

‘Though our people have their differences,’ Celeborn began with an air of awkward reluctance, ‘we are all at peril from this foe.  We would not think to make safe the lands of the north without extending that protection to all folk.’

‘What you’re asking,’ said Gimli, ‘is if my people would fight for you?’

‘Whatever ills have befallen us in the past,’ said Galadriel, ‘they matter little to those of us who live now, and who must act now.  As I have said, we do not wish to dwell on past things, but to sculpt a future that will be secure for all of us.  I will not lie to you, Gimli, son of Glóin, the aid of your people would be invaluable in this fight.  All I ask is that you would take my word to your king in Erebor, and let him weigh the arguments himself.  If he should favour an alliance with us, we shall set aside all grudges, and shall commit our hearts instead to forging this peace for us all.  I do not ask you to be my advocate, nor should you feel torn between allegiance to your kin and the friendship you share with some of my people.  I would simply ask that you carry this letter.  I place no greater bond on you than this.’

‘If Sauron thinks to attack all free folk in his path,’ Gimli replied, ‘so let him try!  And if we are to go to war, to me it would make sense to fight together.  But it is not up to me.  I will take whatever you wish to Erebor, and gladly.’

Galadriel offered him a glowing smile.  As Frodo glanced towards the Dwarf, he thought he saw an even redder tinge come to Gimli’s face.

‘So be it,’ she sighed, looking as though a great weight had just been taken from her. Though soon after, her smile faded and she paused, bringing her hand to her chest as if to rub at her heart.  A faint shadow passed across her face for an infinitesimal moment.  She then recovered her composure very quickly and straightened, standing tall and bold once more, though Celeborn still regarded her with grave concern, his brow furrowed.

‘Would that there was more time to make plans,’ Galadriel went on.  ‘But the Enemy will not wait and nor should we.  Therefore I have already arranged escorts from amongst my people, who will offer some protection for you on your journey.  If the spies of Sauron discern our plans they will put all effort into preventing you.’

Legolas nodded solemnly.  Frodo looked about, wondering if that was supposed to be the end of the council.  He recognised the same look in his friends’ eyes.  All four Hobbits exchanged glances, all waiting to hear the most important news of all.

‘Excuse me, Lady Galadriel,’ said Pippin at last, ‘but what is to happen to us?’

Galadriel cocked her head to one side and regarded them with a faint smile.  ‘Do you wish to return home?’

‘That’s just it,’ said Merry.  ‘What’s to happen to our home, if all the Elves are to make some stronghold in the north?  We’re a part of the north too, but we’ve no armies or war horses to lend to your cause.’

‘We have debated this,’ Celeborn replied.  ‘Your lands sit between Rivendell and the Havens.  Were the Enemy to find some way into the Shire, he would drive a wedge between our people and Círdan, and would bar any aid that might come from the sea.  So too would he prevent those who wished to make the journey from travelling to the Havens and sailing West.  Therefore you must understand that the safety of the Shire is of paramount importance.  We would not leave you to battle alone.’

‘But when you say you’ll strengthen the north,’ said Frodo, ‘how would that be done?  Would you build great walls or delve caves?’

‘Neither one, I hope!’ exclaimed Sam.  ‘Not in the Shire!’

‘The beauty and freedom of your fields would mean nothing were Sauron to cross its borders,’ said Celeborn.  ‘Great walls or deep tunnels might not be to your liking, but that at least would keep you alive.’

‘But if the Shire were to change,’ said Pippin, ‘then what would be the point in fighting to keep it free?  If we have to hide all the time…’

‘No one would seek to destroy that which you hold dear,’ interrupted Galadriel.  ‘I do not seek to make the Shire a fiefdom of my kingdom.  I will not echo the Dark Lord in his conquests.  I shall endeavour to be a silent guardian for you, to post watchmen at the borders and keep all evil things out.’

‘But whatever happens,’ sighed Pippin, ‘it will all change…’

‘Such would have happened, no matter what choices were made,’ Celeborn answered sharply, but still spoke each word as if it pained him.  ‘And without the protection we now offer, there would be no guarantee that your Shire would survive at all.’

By Frodo’s side, Sam squirmed slightly and frowned, his mind once again thrown to the predictions of the mirror. 

‘And what of Gondor?’ asked Aragorn suddenly.  ‘Are they to be left to the wolves while we ensure we are all safe?’

‘Boromir is ready to depart,’ replied Celeborn.  ‘We wish we could spare more arms to aid his cause, but we shall need all our army to secure these lands.  As it stands, Gondor has a chance to succeed, if the Steward and his men can hold their cities.  If we were to divide our already thin-spread forces all the more, and Sauron claimed the Ring victorious, then Gondor would surely fall.  Though it is by no means the ideal solution, it is the only choice we have.’

‘You have said you will return to Imladris,’ Galadriel carried on before Aragorn had a chance to say any more.  ‘My Galadhrim will go with you.  I intend to send messengers to Elrond and to Círdan, to inform them of these plans and to help mobilise their forces.  They will also be your escort, for you and the halflings.’

She stepped towards Aragorn, holding his gaze intently.  ‘Your path may no longer seem clear to you…’

‘I only wonder what has become of Elrond’s council, that the ring should be destroyed for none can wield it.  I worry, my lady, that if Elrond dared not try to harness its power…’

‘Elrond was a babe when I had seen an Age in Middle-earth.  If I feared failure, I would not take this burden upon my shoulders and put all others in my charge at risk.  Did Elrond and Gandalf not say that they might consider taking the ring to use for good?’

‘Gandalf said he might, and use it for good at least at first,’ Frodo told her.

‘Then he doubted himself.  I do not.  I have given grave thought to this matter, and I can see but one sure way to make our world safe.  And that is not to send an innocent into the fires of Mordor, or to rob him of his life and family.  Now we can be sure the Dark Lord cannot reach his Ring of Power, we can strengthen our forces, build our armies and make plans for the day when we are bold enough to destroy Sauron utterly.’

‘Then that is your plan?’ asked Aragorn.  ‘To fight?’

‘In time.  Your part in this need not be finished.  We fight for the freedom of Men as well as Elves, and Men will need a leader.  Take council again with Elrond if you will, but consider what it might mean to become the ally of Lórien.  Find your scattered people, your birthright, and join us in the final battle.  Like the Eldar, your people will need time to regroup and find their strength again.  We shall give you that time and offer protection while you are still weak.  Think on it.  But decisions need not be reached on this today, nor tomorrow.  Take the halflings to Rivendell and see them safely on their way home.  From there, your path will be yours to choose.’

~*~

Only seven days passed before the company was ready to depart.  As they left Caras Galadhon, the elves sang encouraging lilts and wished them well, but Frodo did not want to look back.  In his mind he pictured Galadriel waving to them, as she had done when they walked out of the city, and he saw the plain band of gold on its chain about her neck.  As he trudged through the fallen leaves and breathed in the freshly laundered spring air, he felt as though he had left all his belongings behind, and had to force himself to walk on without turning back.

Little conversation passed between them, and their grey-clad Elven escort marched ahead with militaristic rigidity, setting a brisk pace, until after a few hours they came to a clearing and the Elves formed two separate groups, each looking towards different paths.

Frodo stayed beside Aragorn and the other Hobbits, whilst Legolas and Gimli faced them and Boromir stood alone.

‘This is where we must say our farewells,’ said Legolas.  ‘I pray that you make it safely home, and that all things are well when you arrive.’

‘And you,’ replied Aragorn.

‘Don’t have a care for us, lad,’ laughed Gimli.  ‘I shall see these Elves steer clear of trouble!’

‘I do not doubt it,’ said Aragorn.

‘Who knows what the future may hold,’ Legolas continued.  ‘Yet if all goes well, I would be honoured if you would come to my land one day and would be my guests at our halls.’

‘Of course,’ said Merry.  ‘We’ll look forward to it.’

‘And it won’t be too long before we all meet again,’ added Pippin.  ‘All this’ll be over before we know it, won’t it?’

Legolas smiled, but did not answer.  Aragorn turned away.

‘Come then,’ he told the Hobbits,  ‘before we lose the light.  Boromir, do you travel with us or shall you also take your leave?’

‘I carry on alone from here,’ Boromir answered.  ‘Though perhaps it would be safer to cross the mountains and head south through the Gap of Rohan, I can make the journey in less time if I take the river.  Lord Celeborn has offered me one of his Elven boats.  With luck, I should reach Minas Tirith before it is too late.’

‘Then may the blessing of the Valar be with you,’ said Aragorn quietly.  ‘And Manwë’s winds carry you swiftly to your cause.’

Boromir nodded, and the company regarded him sadly as he set off.  Frodo wanted to wish him luck, but somehow it didn’t feel right, so though the others called out their farewells, Frodo stayed silent and simply waved.  Boromir returned the gesture and Frodo knew from his expression that he understood that silence.  Neither knew exactly what lay ahead, but both accepted that it could not be good.

‘That’s the end of it then,’ muttered Sam.  ‘Our part in this is finished, and we can go home and think no more of it.’

‘I hope so, Sam,’ replied Frodo, though he did not sound convinced.