Responses to reviewers are located at the bottom of the page.

Notes for Chapter 18:  There is a major departure from book-canon in this chapter, in that Elladan and Elrohir are not away from Rivendell hunting Orcs when the events at the Ford are taking place.  I wanted them to become a part of this story as soon as possible.

“Time doesn’t seem to pass here: it just is.  A remarkable place altogether.”  Bilbo Baggins, The Fellowship of the Ring

BY CHANCE OR PURPOSE

Chapter 18 --- Rivendell

October 20

Elladan and Elrohir rode as fast as they dared without exhausting the horses they rode, or the riderless mount tethered to Elladan’s steed.  Both had begged their father leave to depart for the Bruinen sooner, but Elrond had denied them.

“If Glorfindel and Aragorn are unable to prevent the Ring-bearer from being taken,” the Elf lord had said gravely, “the Lord of the Nazgûl will bear him, and the Ring, swiftly south -- but not, I fear, before the Nine attack this valley.  With the One Ring in their possession, I do not know if any defense will hold, but we must try.”

And so they had waited, at their father’s side, as he and Gandalf sensed the events transpiring at the Ford, and unleashed the fury of the Bruinen.  Finally Elrond turned to them, his eyes blazing.

“Go!” he cried.  “The Nine are swept away, but the Ring-bearer is in deadly peril.”

The twins had nearly reached the Ford when they heard, then saw, Asfaloth galloping towards them, Glorfindel on his back.  The golden-haired Elf didn’t stop or even slow down, but raced past them, clutching the reins with one hand and a small, blanket-wrapped bundle in the other.  His face was grim and set, and the brothers watched him go, heading for Imladris at a speed remarkable even for the great white horse.

*~*~*~*~*

Aragorn held Pippin in his arms.  He had seen the pain on the young hobbit’s face when he tried to walk, and had simply gathered him up and held him gently as they waited for the flood waters to recede.  Pippin remained uncharacteristically silent, and Aragorn suspected that he was in mild shock.  The dark presence of the Nazgûl had touched them all, however briefly.  In addition, Merry’s injury, Frodo lying so still on the opposite shore, and just sheer exhaustion were overwhelming the youngster at last.

Glorfindel, who had already led Bill, with Sam on his back, across the River, had returned, and lifted Merry gently.  The injured hobbit started to waken, crying out in sudden pain, and Glorfindel touched his long, sensitive fingers to the swollen bruise and spoke soft words in Elvish.  After a moment, Merry sighed and went limp once again, sinking back into unconsciousness.

Aragorn and Glorfindel waded into the cold water with their small burdens, and, upon reaching the other side, struggled up the bank to the spot where Frodo had fallen.  Asfaloth still stood patiently nearby.  Aragorn set Pippin down, then knelt next to Frodo, who lay face down, pale as death.  Sam had covered him with a blanket, and was clutching the broken pieces of Frodo’s sword to his chest.

“He’s so cold,” Sam murmured.  “I can’t tell if he’s breathin’ or not, Strider.”

“He’s breathing, Sam,” Aragorn murmured.  “Barely.”  He looked up, his eyes anguished.  “Take Frodo and go, Glorfindel.  Get him to Elrond; we do not know how much time he has left.”

Glorfindel lay Merry down in the grass, then leaped onto Asfaloth’s back.  Aragorn gathered Frodo into his arms, keeping the blanket wrapped about him, and transferred the limp body to the Elf.

“He lives, Aragorn,” Glorfindel said urgently.  “Do not despair.  There is still hope.”  With that, he urged Asfaloth into a run.  Pippin and Sam watched him disappear down the trail, their hands reaching out for each other.

“Pippin, let me put you on Bill,” Aragorn said.  “Rivendell is still some distance away, and---”  He stopped speaking as all three heard the sound of horses approaching from the direction Glorfindel had gone.  Just then, two dark-haired Elves on horseback emerged from the trees.

Elladan swung down from his mount and strode forward, quickly assessing the situation.  Three very dirty hobbits -- one looking near collapse, one obviously injured, and one looking at him and Elrohir with hope and wonder in his eyes -- and Aragorn, looking as exhausted and travel-stained as his small companions.  As he reached the Ranger and embraced him, he felt the Man sag a bit with weariness and relief.

“Forgive us, my brother, for our late arrival,” Elladan murmured.  “Father would not let us leave Imladris until all threat to it had passed.”

“I understand,” Aragorn said, embracing him, and then Elrohir.

While Elrohir bent to check on Merry, Elladan smiled down at Pippin and Sam.  “I know your journey has been long and difficult, but once in our home you may finally rest.”  He crouched in front of Pippin.  “Will you ride with me?”

Aragorn quickly knelt next to Pippin and whispered something in the small pointed ear.  The young hobbit smiled at the Elf before allowing himself to be lifted onto one of the horses.  The Elf mounted behind him and held him securely.  Pippin twisted to look up at the beautiful, ageless face.  The Elf’s hair, unlike Glorfindel’s, was dark as night, his eyes grey and wise.

“Are you Elladan?” Pippin asked.  “Truly?”

“I am,” the Elf replied, puzzled.  “Did Aragorn speak of me?”

Pippin just giggled, then relaxed into the Elf’s embrace and closed his eyes, too exhausted to keep them open any longer.

Elrohir tethered Bill to his own horse, then lifted Sam into the saddle of his own steed.  He held Merry while Aragorn mounted the spare horse, then handed Merry to him before mounting behind Sam.  With one last look at the River, now calm and flowing gently, they rode slowly towards Rivendell.

*~*~*~*~*

Glorfindel jumped down from Asfaloth’s back, landing lightly on his feet, holding Frodo’s limp, blanket-wrapped form.  He was unsurprised to see Elrond and Gandalf waiting for him.

“Give him to me,” Elrond said urgently.  He took Frodo from Glorfindel’s arms and began to walk swiftly towards the House, the wizard and Glorfindel on either side of him matching his long strides.  “Tell me what you can, Glorfindel.”

As the trio entered the House and made their way upstairs to one of the large healing chambers, Glorfindel quickly spoke to Elrond and Gandalf of everything he knew -- the attack at Weathertop as described to him by Aragorn, the long, difficult journey of the Ranger and hobbits in their efforts to stay hidden from their pursuers, Frodo’s condition as he understood it, and the events at the Ford of Bruinen.  He handed Gandalf the hilt of the Morgul knife, which he had brought with him, and told them Aragorn’s theory about the splinter which surely remained in Frodo’s body.

“Thank you, my friend,” Elrond said, laying Frodo down on one of the room’s several beds.  “You have done what you could, and now Gandalf and I must do what we can.  Everything has been prepared for when Aragorn and the others arrive.  Take some rest, and we will speak again later.”

“My lord,” Glorfindel murmured, “it has been my honor to meet and assist these folk, especially Frodo.  His courage rivals that of any whose names are legend.”  He bowed to Elrond and left.

Elrond unwrapped the small blanket from the hobbit’s unconscious body and looked down at him gravely before beginning to remove the travel-stained cloak, coat, vest, braces, and shirt.

“Frodo,” Gandalf murmured.  He shook his head in dismay at the appearance of his dear friend.  He remembered a laughing, rosy-cheeked, vibrant young hobbit, full of spirit and innocent wisdom, and it pained his heart to see what had come of his inability to be there in Frodo’s most desperate hour.  “Saruman will pay for his foul deeds,” he murmured angrily, “this not least among them.”

Elrond knew that somewhere in Frodo’s clothing lay hidden the One Ring, but that could be dealt with later.  For now… He wrung out a soft cloth from a basin of water on a table next to the bed, and sat beside the injured hobbit.  Very gently, he cleansed the area around the small, closed wound, then lay his hand on Frodo’s brow and was silent for a long moment.

“His chest, side, and arm are like ice,” Elrond said at last.  “His life force is very weak -- almost as if it is being consumed by that which lies within him.”

“That is precisely what is happening,” the wizard replied.  “Frodo has endured this foul sorcery within him for a fortnight, but it is overcoming him at last.  The realm of Shadow draws him nearer, and he can no longer resist its pull.”

Elrond stood up, a determined look to his eyes.  “He fades, Gandalf, and it cannot be stopped so long as even a fragment of Morgul blade remains within him.”

“It must be removed, of course,” the wizard said.

“Yes,” the Elf-lord agreed, “but where is it?  The splinter, from what Aragorn told Glorfindel of the broken blade, will be extremely small.  The wound is closed, and Frodo cannot tell us where the pain is greatest.  Where do I begin cutting?  How far?  How deep?  Must I open his entire shoulder, perhaps more than once?”

“Elrond,” Gandalf said with concern, “I will not stand by and watch Frodo fade and be lost to us.”

“I said the fading cannot be stopped,” Elrond repeated, “but perhaps in that lies Frodo’s only chance.”

“What do you mean?”

“Within hours, Gandalf, perhaps less, I sense that the evil at work inside Frodo will accomplish its task.  However, I suspect that when his physical body begins to dissolve into Shadow, the shard will, for a moment, be visible to me.  There will be a transparency to Frodo’s body -- but a Morgul blade does not fade, except be it melted in sunlight or Fire -- I will be able to see it, through flesh and bone and muscle.”

“Surely you don’t mean to wait to remove the fragment until Frodo is nearly gone?  Even if you then take it from his body, he will be too weak to ever recover consciousness.”

“There is another way,” Elrond said.  “With Vilya, as you know, I have bestowed a timelessness to this valley; I have never attempted it with a person, but I can attempt to do the same for Frodo -- slowing his breath, heartbeat… everything.  His body functions will slow such that he will require neither food nor drink.  The fading will progress, but at a greatly diminished rate -- perhaps taking days instead of hours.  That way, at the first… hint… of transparency, when I can at last perceive precisely where the shard lays within him, there should be time to remove it before it is too late for Frodo to recover.”  Elrond fixed the wizard with a steely gaze.  “But you must use Narya to strengthen him, and give his body the energy it needs to hold on.”

The wizard nodded slowly.  “It may give Frodo his only chance,” he agreed, gazing at the pale, still face.  “Let us begin.”

Anyone looking into the room during the next few minutes would have seen a strange sight indeed -- a mighty Elf-lord and wizard both kneeling next to a bed containing a gravely injured hobbit.  The Elf-lord’s right hand hovered over the hobbit’s pale face, and the wizard’s above the small chest.  Brilliant, pulsing lights of blue, white, and a fiery orange met and joined between their hands, then slowly sank into the small form and disappeared.

*~*~*~*~*

Elrond and Gandalf were sitting by Frodo’s bedside, talking quietly, when a commotion at the door brought them to their feet.  Elrohir entered first, with Sam by the hand.  Sam gave a joyous shout when he saw Gandalf, and flew into the wizard’s arms.

“So, you are here at last, Samwise,” the wizard said softly.

“Oh Gandalf, it’s been purely awful,” Sam murmured.  He stared at Frodo, lying so still.   “How’s Mr. Frodo?”

“He’s getting the best of care,” Gandalf said reassuringly.  Sam tried to scramble up on the big bed, and the wizard gave him a boost.

Elladan entered next with Pippin at his side, and Gandalf came to meet them.  “Pippin Took, whatever are you doing so far from home?” he asked with a smile.  Even though Glorfindel had told them about the hobbits and what they had been through, he was dismayed at the condition of the wan, exhausted hobbit who nearly collapsed against him.

“He’s asleep on his feet,” Elladan said softly.

“M’alright,” Pippin murmured.  “Gandalf, is it really you?”

“It is really me.”

Elrond came swiftly to Aragorn’s side and took Merry from him.

“I am proud of you,” the Elf lord said to his foster-son.  “I will hear all you have to tell, once you have rested.”  He carried Merry to the bed next to Frodo’s and examined the unconscious hobbit, Pippin watching his every move.  Elrond’s sensitive fingers probed the bruise on Merry’s forehead, and he touched his fingertips to the hobbit’s brow, closing his eyes for a moment.  “He will be fine,” he said finally.  “I will prepare an herbal compress, and we will watch over his sleep to ensure that he is not in pain.”

“And now,” Elrond continued, getting to his feet, “there is only the Ring to be safeguarded.  We must---”

“Don't you dare touch it!” came a sudden yell.

Everyone turned in shock as Pippin cried out.  The young hobbit ran to the bed, standing between Elrond and Frodo.

“Pippin,” Gandalf said warningly, “what do you---”

“Don't touch it,” Pippin repeated, glaring up at Elrond.  He was very pale, and trembling with exhaustion, but his voice was strong and clear.  “Frodo kept that thing from wights and wraiths, and he's been in so much pain...”  He swayed for a moment, suddenly dizzy, but steadied himself.  “If he gives it to you, you can have it.  Not before.”

Elrond stared down at the young hobbit, speechless.

Greatly moved, Aragorn came forward and crouched in front of Pippin.

“Strider,” Pippin whispered, looking into the Ranger’s grey eyes, “don't let him take it.”

“I understand what---”

“Promise!” Pippin said desperately.

Aragorn pulled him close.  “I promise, Pippin.  Unless it will save Frodo's life, no one will take the Ring from him.  Will you trust me?”

“Yes,”  Pippin slumped into the Ranger's arms, suddenly weary beyond belief.  “I'm so tired, Strider,” he murmured.

“I know you are, ” Aragorn said gently.  He picked Pippin up and rose to his feet, then walked across the room and sat down on the bed in which Merry lay.

Pippin tried to stay alert, but the last bit of energy seemed to have drained out of him, and he could no longer think clearly about anything.  He knew, on some hazy level, that he needed to be worried about Merry; that he needed desperately to wash, and eat something; that they were in Rivendell at last, and he didn’t have to walk any more, or be afraid.  He heard words swirling around him… “…exhaustion and shock… need to… give him this, it will…”

“Pippin, drink this.”  Pippin found a cup in his hands, and heard Aragorn’s soft voice.  “It will sustain you until you get some sleep, and can eat a proper meal.  Drink it all, that’s it.”  Pippin drank obediently, finding the cup to be full of a thick liquid rich with cream and blended fruits, and other tastes he couldn’t identify.  It was the most wonderful thing he had ever drunk, and he felt his sharp hunger easing.  More quickly than he would have liked, he emptied the cup, but it was refilled with more of the sweet, creamy drink, which he finished as well.  He felt the Ranger lay him down, and he curled up tightly against Merry.  Within the space of two breaths everything faded, and he sank quickly into such a deep, exhausted sleep that he would not wake again until well into the next day.

Aragorn covered Pippin with a blanket and looked at Elrond.  “Pippin is correct,” he said firmly.  “The Ring is not yours to take, but Frodo’s to relinquish.  He is the bearer until he passes it to another, as Bilbo did.”

“Aragorn---”

“Can it harm Frodo to have it near?”

Elrond sighed.  “I doubt it.”

“Then we will take no action at present,” Gandalf said suddenly.  Pippin’s unexpected, fierce protectiveness of Frodo had given him much to think about.  “There is a greater wisdom at work here, Elrond.  As you have foreseen, the fate of Middle-earth lies no longer with the Firstborn.  It lies with Men…”  He then motioned to Frodo’s still form.  “…it lies with him…”  The wizard smiled at the sight of Pippin and Merry side by side, then gazed fondly down at Sam, who had also fallen sound asleep, holding Frodo’s hand.  “I suspect that it may even lie with them.”

Aragorn looked up as his foster brothers came to stand in front of him.

“You, too, must rest, Aragorn,” Elladan said, helping him to stand.

“I need to---”

“My brother,” Elrohir said gently, “we will look after the little ones.”

“They are not children, Elrohir,” Aragorn said firmly.  “I have never met more courageous folk.  When you hear our tale in full, you will understand.”

“I swear to you that they will be treated as honored guests,” the Elf reassured him.  “Whatever they need, we will see to it.”

Elladan put his arm around Aragorn.  “Come.  Father and Gandalf will call upon you if Frodo’s condition grows worse.  You can hardly help him in such a state.”

Aragorn barely remembered being led out of the healing chamber by Elrohir and Elladan, or his brothers helping him to undress, bathe at last in warmed, fragrant water, and given a light meal before being put to bed.  With a weariness he had never known before, he fell as deeply asleep as Pippin and Sam.  He didn’t stir at the sound of his beloved’s voice, or feel the sweet and gentle kiss touch his brow.  But in a dream he saw the Evenstar burning brightly in the sky above him, bathing him with its radiance, and for the first time in more than a month, his heart and mind were at peace, and his dreams filled with light.

** TBC **

*~*~*~*~*~*

Aelimir:  Welcome!  You read “Quarantined” and “BCOP” all in one day??  I’m truly honored.  (“AU” highlights a story that departs from book-canon (“alternate universe”).  For example, if Prof. Tolkien wrote that it took four days for Frodo to wake up in Rivendell, and didn’t tell us what happened during those four days, a story detailing what happened during those four days would not necessarily be AU, since it wouldn’t contradict canon.  But a story about it taking Frodo two days to wake up, or never getting to Rivendell at all, etc., would be AU.  This story is “slightly” AU!)

Aemilia Rose and aprilkat and Elentari and Hobbit Lily Baggins and SapphireMeriadocTook:  You can’t imagine how hard I worked on Chapter 17.  Thank you so much.  And I hope this is the last time I ever have to get inside the “mind” of a Ringwraith!

Aiko-chan:  Oh, what am I doing to you, poor girl?  What a fun review!  “Sweet mother of Betsy Ross”???  Hee hee  (And I hope you enjoy ‘your’ Pip’s very important moment in this chapter…)

Ailsa Joy:  The darker the threat, the more brilliantly do the hobbits, Ranger, and Elf-lord shine.  I was hoping that this story would showcase that aspect of the Tale, and thank you for saying that I’m doing a good job.

alysha-sedai and Hai:  I’m writing as fast as I can -- I want to find out what happens next, too, you know!

arabella thorne and Grand Theft Author Otaku and GreyLadyBast and kete and pebbles and shireling:  Whew!  I’m so glad that Chapter 17 “worked”!

Aratlithiel1:  I never once considered “forking over” Frodo’s incredible courage and defiance to Arwen.  That scene in the movie makes me cringe just thinking about it.

Arwen Baggins:  Ah, indeed -- the person who at first trusted Strider the least, ended up saving his life.  (To answer your question, I took the concept of Frodo starting to fade at the Ford from the FOTR chapter “Many Meetings,” in which Gandalf says to Frodo, “You were beginning to fade… the wound was overcoming you at last.”)

AshNight2:  I guess this is like a roller-coaster ride!  Even though we know where most of the scary parts are, they can still take us by surprise!

Baylor:  Only the folks who’ve read the books will fully understand Frodo’s courage and resilience -- and sacrifice.

Belothien:  I’ll get all those hairy (and non-hairy) feet nice and clean, somehow!

Bookworm2000:  Wasn’t it wonderful of Prof. Tolkien to leave so many ‘gaps’ for us to fill in?  And we all have our own way of filling them.

Budgielover:  Rivendell at last!  I’ll try to make sure that everyone gets some comfort!

ClaudiaofBree:  The constant pain, cold and weakness must have kept Frodo from putting all the pieces together, but I thought a sudden realization would be logical.  I’m glad it worked!

Coriandra:  Yes, we’ll still be in ‘angst’ mode for a little while!  But at least everyone’s across the River, and the you-know-whats are gone.

Elwen and Nilmandra:  Believe me, knowing that so many folks are watching ‘my’ Glorfindel like a hawk has really focused me on who and what he is, and what he means to this story.

Endril McMerlyn:  Welcome to the sequel!  I’m happy you’ve found it, and are enjoying it.  And oh yes, there’ll be a lot more Aragorn -- this is his story, as much as anyone’s.

endymion2:  Exactly!  I too was confused about how Frodo could hold onto a sword and Asfaloth at the same time, with only one good hand.  And you’re right, I suppose that’s the last of the Witch-king’s POV -- unless I decide to tackle the Pelennor Fields someday.  Oh dear.

Erisinia Gazelle:  Welcome!  What a fun review, Erisinia!  Omigosh, I hope I got Chapter 18 finished in time for you to be revived.  (crosses fingers)

Firnsarnien:  In all his long life, I doubt Glorfindel has been called “a hottie” too many times!  I’m sure he’s blushing.

Gentle Hobbit:  Things are happening “on many levels”, and it’s fascinating to delve into them.

GirlsDontCri:  Come out from behind the sofa!  The wraiths are gone!

Hatshepsut: Pharaoh of Kemet:  I love the story of Hatshepsut; most folks have never heard of her, I suspect.  And thank you for your kind words -- it’s wonderful to hear from you!

Hobbit-Luvr and QTPie-2488:  I’m so glad you liked the different POV’s!  It was a real challenge to try to imagine what everyone might have been going through internally as well as externally.

Insane Pineapple from Naboo:  Frodo & Co. spend several months in Rivendell -- they’ll need lots of cookies!

Ivy:  The “fluff and nonsense” will return as soon as it’s appropriate!

Kit5:  In the movie, I hope that nassty Witch-king does “get his”!  (BTW, here’s a tip regarding the ever-wacky ff.net:  If you know there’s a new chapter of a story and can’t access it, pull up the most recent chapter, replace that chapter number in the URL with the “new” chapter number you’re trying to access, and hit ‘enter’.  If the chapter exists, you’ll be able to see it.)

Lady Cinnibar:  It’s not exactly “stamina” for writing; it’s more a compulsion to tell a story.  As long as I’m fortunate enough to have this creative fire burning inside me, I don’t plan to quench it.

Lady Eleclya:  Delving deeply into these scenes helps me to understand them better, and I’m so happy that other folks think my choices for the characters’ motivations and actions make sense.

Lady Jaina:  I’m making a special effort to be “diligent” and show what’s happening with everyone, mostly because it isn’t ‘events’ that interest me as much as the interactions, motivations, and emotions of our beloved characters.

Lady Sandry:  Glorfindel was wondering if Aragorn was physically injured, but Aragorn was answering along different lines -- as one who felt the Black Breath reaching out for him, but only barely touched him before the wraith was swept away.  I think Sam just has to meet Arwen, and Merry will eventually put all the pieces together about Aragorn.  I’m so excited that you’re so excited!

MagicalRachel and ScifiRogue:  Merry is very, very brave, and the courageous ones often put themselves in harm’s way in defense of another.  But don’t worry, you know everything will work out all right.

Master Elora Dannan:  Elves are a bit cryptic, but in this case, Glorfindel is referring to Frodo’s “fading”.  (December seems wonderfully close now, doesn’t it?  Soon, precioussss… soon…)

Mysterious Jedi:  Who knew there was so much detail “from Bree to Rivendell”?  I’m as amazed as you are.

Pearl Took:  Oh, I’m so glad the chapter had energy and power!  What a wonderful thing to say!  I did try to show that events were occurring “on many levels”.

Rosa Cotton:  You made my mom’s day by mentioning her, Rosa!

Silver Mearas:  Oh, your review just made me want to weep with joy.  What a thrill to move someone emotionally by something I’ve written.  And mom says Thank You!  (As to whether we dwell in Earth or Middle-earth…?  Definitely both.  And we have a lot of company.)  You’re so sweet to be worried about Arthad/Ollie!  If you go back to Chapter 6, you’ll see what he’s doing, and where he is.  I promise that Sam will get to see him again!

Strider’s Girl:  Merry will figure out Strider’s “riddle” when all the puzzle pieces come together for him.

trishette:  You think Chapter 17 compared with Chapter 8?  Wow, thanks!  I was afraid I’d never be able to write anything to equal Chapter 8.  And as for who will be at Frodo’s bedside when he awakens… still working on it!

VercisIsolde:  Thank you!  I plan to take the story at least to the Council of Elrond, and possibly farther -- but I suspect that anything past Rivendell will probably be covered in an Epilogue.