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Dreams of Middle Earth: What might have been…

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/fourth-wall/

You get to spend a day inside your favorite movie. Tell us which one it is — and what happens to you while you’re there.

I woke early at the sound of the morning bell; the days are beautiful and fair in Rivendell. Here, except for the wisdom of the ages shared with us in the stories of Arda and Middle-earth, one would think—unwisely so—that the whole world is as fair and beautiful as life is here in Rivendell…

I am Thenidiel daughter of Voronwé and Idhrenniel. I am Elven, and today in Rivendell a council is convening within the hour. My father and my mother will attend as witnesses to the discussions and decisions. My father Voronwé has thought it wise that I should listen and observe, for this council will be like no other ever called by my elders. This will be a very grave and secret council—a council which will decide a mission and consider its emissaries. Their charge will be to destroy something of immeasurable and terrible power over every living soul in Middle-earth…

Of my Elven race officiating and deliberating at the council were Elrond, Erestor and Glorfindel, wise staff of Elrond’s house; Legolas, son of King Thranduil of Mirkwood, and Galdor messenger of Cirdan. The envoys among men were two: Boromir son of Denethor, steward of Gondor, and Aragorn known to men and Halflings as Strider of the Rangers. Of the Dwarves present were Gloin, seeking the whereabouts of his brother Balin who had been in the mines of Moria; and Gimli, warrior son of Gloin. Gandalf the wise of the Maiar informed all present of the danger to Middle-earth in Saruman’s treachery. Ambassadors of the Halflings of The Shire were Bilbo Baggins and his adopted nephew Frodo Baggins. I saw another there, crouching in the shadows, observing all that was undertaken in the council. My soul learned immediately that his heart was burdened for the welfare of another. I followed his gaze and saw that, from his shadowy corner, it was fixed on the Halfling with shining eyes, dark of hair and fair of countenance. As my own gaze rested upon him, Master Frodo Baggins, I was immediately drawn to him; for he carries a burden so great I can feel it in my own being. He looked up for a moment, seeming to know that the eyes and the heart of someone were watching vigilantly, standing guard for him. When he noticed me standing quietly watching all the renowned guests being welcomed by Elrond and his court, I saw into the depths of his soul and all his longings. His eyes did not drift away from my gaze; we were locked in an ethereal embrace for what seemed an eternity. I saw his heart and shared mine with him for that one moment, both of us sealing a covenant to meet again before the company was dispatched to the duties ordained by the council…

 I listened and watched the story unfold before me, although it seemed as if I had already known it from long ago. I felt the weight of the fear of the power of this object should it be used in the hands of the adversaries of Eru Iluvatar. That was the ancient rebellion of ages past, mocking Iluvatar’s beauty and the lyrical music of His Ainur. One must go and destroy the power of the adversary Morgoth and his vassal Sauron. That one must bear the terrible burden of the Ring to the rim of hell, the Mount of Doom; there he must part with the terrible thing with all its temptations to be subject to its power, and resisting all, must cast it into the fires of Mount Doom to be consumed by the very fires and darkness from which it was created. Other valiant Men and Elves of ages past were entrusted with this task and were eaten alive by the lure of the powers they thought they would possess in the keeping of this fragment of hate and blasphemy against Eru Iluvatar. In one age, after the ring was long forgotten, a Halfling, Deagol by name, who loved to fish in the rivers of the Shire, captured it by accident on the end of his fishing line. His friend Smeagol was jealous for the shiny trinket, and in his jealousy murdered Deagol, hid his body, and doted upon the precious thing, discovering its powers to make him seem superior to all around him. It ate him alive, driving him into the depths of the earth to shelter it and guard it from being taken from him, only earning for himself the name of Gollum; for Smeagol had become a gulping, grasping creature doomed to a deviant and tortured life of wicked treachery, always fighting down the once noble thread from which he was originally woven. Master Bilbo Baggins had seized the thing from Gollum’s grasp in his encounter with him in the caves on the way to Erebor. Bilbo’s part in that mission was to help the Dwarves regain their rightful home and treasures taken from them by the dragon Smaug when he destroyed Laketown and captured Erebor for his own malevolent residence.

Hours passed as I waited to see how the council would rule. Finally, all agreed that one must go, but the question remained, “Who will go?” When the midday bell rang for the meal, the fair one with raven hair and shining eyes spoke, saying, “I will go.” It was then I knew he must have a helper, someone who would give him hope and courage to live when all the evil of Mordor stalked him to prevent his chosen task. How would I persuade my father to give my hand to Frodo in marriage when he appeared to be a mere Halfling and beneath the Elven race? I have lived long in Rivendell in this world of Middle-earth, but never have I seen one which so captivates my own soul. He appears young and yet has a bearing as old as Rivendell itself. I knew before the council did that his companion in the shadows would go with him to bear Frodo up when his body weakens from the weight of the burden and the assaults contrived against him by the emissaries of Sauron. But he would need the songs of truth and faith to resonate in his mind and heart—songs my soul entwined with his would sing to him across the distances on the cold stoney mountain passages, in the deep tangles of the woods, across the open plains under the predatory gaze of the eye of Sauron and his minions. He must have a home for his soul where it may rest and draw him back from the contest which will restore peace to the world of Middle earth. I want to be that home for his soul; it is to this hour I was born. I was to learn very soon how inseparable two souls can make a mark on the events in the world…

 At the afternoon meal, he came to talk with me, the one whose soul now was entwined with mine. We needed no long words, for every bit of our lives seemed knowable to one another without them. He knew my own desire and shared it, but with hesitation to bind me to the mortal life and then to wait while he fulfilled the duty he had vowed. As I gazed steadily and passionately into his shining eyes, I told him that the matter of my mortality is mine to decide, knowing completely its blessings and its consequences. I explained to him in earnest that for me waiting would not be as it would be for a Halfling wife. I would tell this to my father and my mother. I would tell them that my heart and my soul would always be following him, knowing things of his trials which only an Elven wife could know. I would persuade them that my songs of healing would come to Frodo in times of his deepest trouble, and still my own life would be safe from the eye of Sauron. These would be dreams no palantir, no seeing stone, could invade or snatch away from us…these would be silver threads of truth and faith and undying love, keeping Frodo’s heart safe from deception and despair…and he, with Samwise, would prevail; he would come home…we would face life in Middle-earth inseparably. We would give our dear ones another generation of offspring who know truth and honor and love. I would persuade my mother and my father to neither deny us this purpose nor deny themselves the joy of its fulfillment…

 As quickly as our meeting began it was over. Frodo’s heart was full of longing, and he vowed another vow. He took my hand in his and in his steady, shining eyes I saw the burden which he carried lift. His countenance shown as brightly and lovely as any Elven son. Almost breathlessly, and full of tenderness, he whispered that he would take me as his wife if I persuaded my mother and my father of the blessing our union would bring…

 We looked up and saw the thoughtful Gandalf sitting across the courtyard from us; Samwise was nearby, having been exposed as a secret observer to the council, driven by his friendship with Frodo to learn of the matters which would touch his friend’s life. Both were watching with a mixture of curiosity and some wonderment. My own mission had now begun; at the recess of this council, I would be seeking a council with my elders, a Maiar and a Halfling to cast the vision shared by Frodo, the valiant Halfling and an Elven daughter of wisdom and healing…

…An excursion into “The Fellowship of The Ring”

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3 thoughts on “Dreams of Middle Earth: What might have been…

  1. Now you have made me want to pull out my dvds and watch the first trilogy again. I LOVE Lord of the Rings and I love your version!! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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