The Dying of the Light: Part I
Author: Elvensong

Chapter One: the Beginnings

Dawn illuminated Rivendell with its slowly advancing warmth.  As the mist crept back, the Fellowship began to form.  Preparing to leave on a great quest was a dwarf, a wizard, two men, four hobbits and one elf.  A most unlikely group of travelers indeed especially with an elf along.  Most of the others had never seen an elf before, to say nothing about having close contact with one over a long journey.  Only Aragorn had known of elfish ways because of his love for Arwen.  When Arwen appeared out of the woods to save Frodo, she had appeared like a vision.  The hobbits had thought they were in a dream.  Now here was an elf prince walking with them on the same mission, to see the ring of power destroyed. 

            As they journeyed, the group wearied because of the terrain.  The hobbits were not used to such conditions and they complained frequently.  Gimli also wore out easily because of his short stance.  Of course Gandalf came and went as he pleased.  Being a wizard, when the terrain got rocky or difficult he would reappear beyond the hardships.  The elf almost seemed to float over the obstacles, no matter how treacherous.  The grace of the elf could not be overlooked by the mortals whom had never seen anything move like he did.  When he walked, to just waiting for the others to catch up to him, he always carried this grace and a magical glow.  The magic in him was especially apparent at night when he would shimmer, sparkle and glow under the starlight and moonlight. 

            As the evening was quiet in the wood, Gimli began to polish his ax.  The splendor of it was unlike anything the others had even seen. The dwarves were well known for their ability with metals, however the sheer beauty of such a brutal weapon struck all who gazed upon it.  Gimli was quite proud of his weapon.

            “It is a very ancient ax. It was recovered from Smoug’s cavern in the Lonely Mountain.”

            Aragorn stood, commanding everyone’s attention.

“We should take shifts to watch over the group tonight. Who will take the first one?”

            “I will.” Legolas turned to face the fields, the strong night wind playing with his hair of gold.

            “Fine, Legolas.  Wake me in a couple hours.” Aragorn rolled under his blanket. The night passed quietly, every now and then members of the group swore they heard soft singing, but nothing else occurred.  The light of the new day began to rise over the hillside and the group stirred.


            “Yes, Aragorn?” The elf was perched in a nearby tree.

            “Why did you not wake anyone to take a shift?” Aragorn was upset, but also slightly glad for the full night of rest his teammate had bestowed upon him.

            “I do not need as much rest as any of you. It only made sense for me to stay awake and keep watch all night. It allowed me to have some time to talk to the trees and the stars.”

            “Elves!” Gimli laughed “Your heads are always in the clouds. You needn’t worry about communicating to things like trees and the like.” He rose up and began to head toward the fire where Merry was already cooking some sausages for breakfast.

            The hobbits ate peacefully.  It always seemed that they were happiest when eating something.  Peppin and Merry especially enjoyed the fine art of eating.  Frodo had too much on his mind to enjoy the simple things in life like his counterparts.  The ring he carried always seemed to be calling out to him.  His thoughts kept wondering to the idea that something else may be hearing it’s call as well.

            Frodo sighed and Gandalf came and sat beside him.

            “What are you thinking about, dear hobbit?”

            Frodo looked up and smiled “I was just thinking about how strange a group we are.  I don’t think history has ever recorded this collection of peoples working together.”

            “Ah, it is through our diversity that we gain our strength. Only our different abilities together can overcome this evil.”

            The beauty of the forest shone brightly during breakfast. The light sparkled around the trees and plants.  Everything seemed brighter and none in the group could overlook the atmosphere around them.

            Gimli nodded, if he ever thought about living above ground, this forest might prove tempting.

            “The forest seems to shine with something extraordinary this morning.”

            Aragorn smiled, “That’s because there’s a wood-elf nearby.” He looked up into the trees. Legolas had gone to the river to freshen up, but Aragorn knew the appearance the forest was giving well.  Elves always illuminate not only themselves, but also the vicinity around them.

            As the group was finishing up, they heard a haunting melody. Something unlike any song any of them had heard before. Pippen was the first to speak up.

            “What is that song on the air?”

            Gandalf answered, “It is an elfish melody speaking of heart and home. Elves sing a great deal, they are a very musical race. It is said that nothing sang before the elves, not even the birds.”

            As the morning grew later, the group decided they had better continue with their journey. 

            “Legolas!” Boromir cried, “Come, we are leaving!”

            Silently, Legolas appeared behind him and said with his quiet voice, “You needn’t yell so loudly to get the attention of an elf, my friend.”

            The elf nearly scared the human out of his wits.  Bodomir game Legolas a harsh look and went to finish packing up his things.  The company then headed out on the trail taking them towards Mordor and Mount Doom. 

            The lands they passed through were gorgeous, but as their target neared, the lands began to feel less welcoming.  The group became uneasy and sleep came less and less to them at night.  Legolas would often stand straight up and be perfectly still, as if listening for something on the air.  When asked, he would dismiss it as nothing and slowly sit back down. 

            Gandalf knew that the intuition of an elf could not be ignored and something much be brewing in order for an elf to get as upset as he appeared, for he did not eat or sleep and seemed on constant alert.  The wizard listened himself and as the breeze died down for one second a quiet evil on the wind made itself apparent.  It was in this moment, recognition of the voice became clear and Gandalf shuddered.  The seeing stone’s eye was open and a nightmare was all the wizard could see.

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