The Fellowship of the Elves by Cirdan

Maglor studied the ancient text carefully before announcing, "If Sauron has truly reawakened, then there must be nine walkers set against the nine riders that are evil."

"We, too, are riders," Curufin said with disdain. "Indeed, I am certain that we are better riders than Cormafear."

"Easily done. Then we shall be the Nine Riders of the Light set against the Nine Riders of the Dark," Maedhros said smoothly. Though this was a simple exercise of choosing a company, his brothers were all too eager to bolster the fame of the Noldor.

"The Nine Riders of Light," Amras repeated. He nodded, and his large, dark eyes glimmered gleefully. "We have seven."

"And who shall be the Cormacolindo, the Ringbearer?" added Amrod.

"I am oldest, and so I shall be the one to take the Ring when the time comes," Maedhros said. "There remain two more to be found. These, I will consider."

"But that would leave no place for me!" Celebrimbor objected. "I don't want to be left behind. I want to go with you!"

"That is because you do not understand and cannot imagine what lies ahead," Maglor said.

"Spare me, Uncle. I created the Three Rings that were untouched by the Dark Lord, and he flailed my skin and used it as a banner when I would not reveal their location," Celebrimbor said. "I swore no Oath, but I am no less valiant than the sons of Feanor."

"Let it be so. You shall go," Maedhros said.

"One more then," Caranthir said. "Who shall accompany us to storm the Dark Tower and open the road to the fire by the power that is within us?"

"Need he be an Elf?" Celegorm asked.

"Nay, we may choose from other free peoples of the world," Maglor said.

"Then I choose Huan the Hound." Celegorm grinned wickedly. "That should make the situation quite unfair."

"Now the tale of nine is filled. In seven days, the company shall depart," Maedhros said.

Curufin, no longer able to keep a straight face, fell over laughing. "We will be the Fellowship of the Ring."

"Yeah, once we pick up the Ring," Maglor said.

---

"Amrod and Amras told me that the sons of Feanor are forming a Fellowship of the Ring in a race to defeat the Dark Lord Sauron," Argon said. His hair bristled at the thought of being left out of fell combat. "Brother, surely we will not let this challenge go unmet!"

Fingon sighed. "Argon, count how many of us there are. Me, you, Turgon, and Aredhel. We are but four little hobbits. Where will you find the other five?"

"But Fingon, why not join with the children of Finarfin?" Aredhel suggested. "They number five, do they not?"

Turgon nodded. "An excellent idea."

"And so it is," Fingon said. He invited the children of Finarfin to join them in the Council that should have belonged to Elrond.

"You wish to create a fellowship of nine in order to pursue the sons of Feanor?" Finrod said with a raised eyebrow.

"Finrod! I suggested no such thing!" Fingon said. A hot flush turning his pointy ears red.

"We wish to destroy the One Ring and end the reign of Sauron," Turgon said. "We do not want to leave the glory to the sons of Feanor."

"Our brother alone could combat Sauron!" Aegnor said.

"And he would lose," Galadriel said calmly. "Sauron showed his mastery over Finrod before. But perhaps if we are with him, our brother will not fail."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Angrod drew his sword and chopped off a corner of the table. "Let us be off!"

"And we will have the advantage over the sons of Feanor," Aredhel said smugly. "Galadriel has the Ring of Water. They have no rings."

"Let us make haste then," Fingon said. "We, too, are a Fellowship of the Ring, and the legitimacy of our Fellowship is in speed, not in secrecy." The sword of Fingolfin, Ringil, was forged anew by Elvish smiths. On its blade was traced the device of seven stars set between the crescent moon and the rayed sun. Above this was the scarlet heart, the symbol of Fingolfin. About these emblems were written many runes. And Fingon gave it a new name and called it Anduril, Flame of the West.

---

"Did you hear that?" Glorfindel said indignantly. "Even if they chose an Elf-lord like me, I could not storm the Dark Tower or open the road to the Fire. I'll show them."

"Was it not you who first found the Ringbearer? And Asfaloth is no less swift than the horses of Valinor," Ecthelion said. "If I understand aright all that I have heard, I think that the task is appointed for you, Glorfindel, and that if you do not find a way, no one will. This is the hour of the Gondolindrim, when they arise from their quiet city to shake the towers and councils of the great. But it is a heavy burden. So heavy that none can lay it on another. I do not lay it on you. But if you take it freely, I will say that your choice is right."

Galdor burst forth. "Surely you will not send Lord Glorfindel off alone?"

"No, indeed, Galdor, for I intend to go with him," Ecthelion said.

"Then I shall be a third," said Galdor of the Tree. He drew his iron- studded club so that none would object. None did.

"You have my sword!" said Eglamoth of the Heavenly Arch. He drew his curved blade and held it to Galdor's club.

"And you have my bow!" Duilin of the Swallow declared.

"And my axe," said Penlod the Tall.

"And my mace." Rog of the Hammer of Wrath came to stand with the others.

"That makes seven," said Penlod the Tall, Lord of the Pillar and the Tower of Snow. "As always, it seems there are two that remain to be chosen."

"Salgant is a craven, and Maeglin is a traitor," Rog said.

"I appreciate all of your assistance, my friends," said Glorfindel, "but I am Lord of the Golden Flower, not King of Gondolin. We lack Turgon or even Tuor, for Tuor and Idril set sail with Voronwe for the West."

"Did Mithrandir not say once, long ago, that in this matter it would be well to trust rather to great friendship than to wisdom?" Ecthelion said with a smile. He put a hand on Glorfindel's shoulder. "We need no king, only friendship. There remain two more to be found. Of my household, I may find some that it seems good to me to send. Perhaps Elemmakil."

"And Legolas the Far-Seeing shall be the ninth," Galdor said.

Glorfindel looked about him and saw the eager faces of the Gondolindrim. He smiled brightly and drew his sword. It shone gold in the sunlight, a reflection from his golden armor. "Very well then. We shall be the Fellowship of Gondolin!"

"Of the Ring," Ecthelion amended. He drew his silver sword and neatly hooked Glorfindel's sword down to where Galdor's club, Eglamoth's curved sword, Duilin's bow, Penlod's axe, and Rog's mace were joined. He glanced at Elemmakil, who quickly drew his sword and joined its tip to that of his lord. Legolas was no less quick to put his bow atop the pile. "Try the cheer again, dear Glorfindel."

"We shall be the Fellowship of the Ring," Glorfindel said. "Now, to Mordor!"

---

"Are we to be left behind because we are not of the Elves of old?" Gil-galad said in a thoroughly vexed voice.

"Nay, my Lord, I will be by your side and beg for the honor of bearing your standard," Elrond said.

"And I will be beside my brother. We came into the world together, and we will meet the end together," said Elros. Unlike the First Age Elves, these Elves were more cautious of Sauron the Dark Lord.

"We will be with our father as well," said the twin sons of Elrond.

"If the other two pairs of Peredhil twins are going, we must go as well," Elured said to Elurin.

"Well, we may not be twins, but we're close enough in appearance, aren't we?" Elurin said. "Sounds like a grand adventure to me. Much better than being left out in the woods."

Gil-galad paused to try to understand what had just happened. "I'm sorry. Did six Elrond-looking Half-elves just offer to accompany me to Mordor?"

Elros looked about. "Hm, I suppose we do all look alike, don't we? I'm afraid we're just too close in kinship."

"That's hardly fair. I'm the oldest. Should it not be six Elured- looking Half-elves?" said Elured.

"Look at it this way, we'll confuse the enemy," Elladan said brightly.

"Oh yes. We'll call it the Attack of the Clones," Elrohir jested.

"Why are there always two remaining to be found?" Gil-galad groaned.

"I heard that the sons of Fingolfin and Finarfin had the same problem until they included their sisters," Elurin said. "A pity Elwing is not about. Nor is her husband. Or our company of nine would be filled."

"It was a rumor. My father would not forget his sister, and Galadriel is equally impossible to overlook," Gil-galad said.

"Arwen chose the path of Luthien or we might invite our sister," Elrohir said thoughtfully.

"It's fine. I'd rather stay out of your family for my remaining two party members," Gil-galad said. "Cirdan will come with us. He was present when I defeated Sauron the first time with Elendil's help. He can be present again."

"And I will be your ninth fellow," Gildor said.

"You?"

"I will not be left out of this battle against Sauron, and I will not leave this world until the Dark Lord is defeated." Gildor's eyes glinted. His hatred for the Dark Lord was well-known. It probably wasn't very healthy, for hatred was the instrument of the Dark Lord, but Gildor wouldn't be dissuaded from joining them. All could see that the Golden Prince had made up his mind.

Gil-galad sighed heavily. Six Elronds, one old Shipwright, and a Gildor to accompany him to the very fires of Orodruin. "Very well," Gil- galad said. "I suppose we have our Fellowship of the Ring."

---

Sam used the phial to pass the Two Watchers. The alarm sounded. "That's done it! Now I've rung the front doorbell," Sam said in dismay when he heard the alarm. "Well," he shouted, "come on somebody! Tell Captain Shagrat that the great Elf-warrior has called, with his elf-sword too!" There was no answer. There was nothing but dead Orcs everywhere.

"Are we to leave the protection of Middle-earth to the Noldor? And do you realize that every single damn Fellowship that was created consisted of the Noldor?" ranted the King of the Sindarin Elves. "We will not be left behind. Mablung, fetch for me my sword Aranruth."

"As you wish, my King," said Mablung of the Heavy Hand.

"It says here that there need be nine walkers set against the nine riders that are evil," Daeron said. He couldn't help but appreciate the clear and beautiful penmanship of Elrond Half-elven.

"Let me be by your side," said Beleg Strongbow. "I was unable to fulfill my duties to you because of the unfortunate incident with Turin, but now I may prove my loyalty in combat by your side."

"You are most welcomed, Chief of the Marchwardens," said Thingol. "Mablung will also come. As will Daeron, for he is the loremaster who will instruct us on this quest."

"The Elves of Greenwood have not enough people to muster for our own Fellowship, and we refuse to follow the Noldor as well. Let us go with you, King Thingol," said Oropher with a passion that was equal to any of the Noldor.

"I will go with my father," said Thranduil. "And my son will come with us as well."

"Me?" said Legolas. "But I'm part of a different Fellowship of the Ring, one that includes much more diversity."

"It's true. It says here that the nine should be chosen from the free peoples of the earth: Elves, Dwarves, and Men. This was, of course, assuming already that there would be two hobbits in the party."

"Dwarves?" King Thingol spat. "I will be dead before I journey with a Dwarf. They are a greedy, uncouth race that dared to demand of me the Nauglamir."

"Not all Dwarves are so!" objected Legolas.

"I too have a prejudice against the Dwarves because of what they did to you, my King," said Celeborn with a bow, "but one Dwarf did prove himself in the last War of the Ring. You'd best take back your harsh words, though I know that you undoubtedly speak from the grief that is in your heart."

"I speak as Elu Thingol, Lord of Beleriand, whose life began by the waters of Cuivienen years uncounted ere the fathers of the stunted people awoke," said Thingol. "I will not take back what I've said about the Dwarves."

"Then I don't want to join your Fellowship," Legolas said. He stubbornly crossed his arms.

Thranduil whacked him upside his head. "Be more respectful of the King of the Sindar!"

Oropher jabbed him in the side for good measure. "King Thingol is worth more than all of your Fellowship combined."

"I will join the Fellowship," said Celeborn. "And I will do what I can to mollify Legolas' mood. Surely if the possibility of Elrond and Legolas slash exists, then Celeborn and Legolas slash should be possible as well."

Legolas made a face that bordered on abject horror. "What are you talking about, Lord of Lorien?"

Daeron cleared his throat. "I'm afraid there remains one more to be found, my King. We number but eight at present."

"Hm, let me see if my brother is about," Thingol said.

"I believe he is in the pond playing with the ducks," Beleg said. They went to the gardens, and true enough, Thingol's brother was in the pond with the ducks.

"Elmo, we need you to join the Fellowship of the Ring," Thingol said.

Legolas burst out laughing. "Elmo? His name is Elmo?"

"What's wrong with that?" Celeborn asked with a glare. "He's my grandfather, you know."

"Oh, you'll have to forgive me, Lord of Lorien. My Fellowship included Men, and among Men, there also exists an Elmo," Legolas explained. "And wasn't it Ernie who played with duckies?"

"Is he going to be like this throughout the quest?" Elmo asked.

"No, of course not, Prince!" Thranduil said. He jabbed Legolas in the side.

"All right. Then I'll join your Fellowship. It's been a long time since I went on an adventure," Elmo said.

"Excellent." Thingol raised Aranruth and announced, "We shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!"

"Such a joyous moment makes me feel singing," Elmo said. "This is the song, la-la-la-la, Elmo's song. La-la-la-la, Elmo's song. He loves to sing, La-la-la-la, Elmo's song. He wrote the music. He wrote the words. That's Elmo's song."

And though, really, it was one of the most Elvish moment since Bilbo's first visit to Rivendell, Legolas could not help but to fall into helpless peals of laughter because of the Mannish Elmo. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to join this Fellowship after all. Even if there was no Man nor Dwarf nor Hobbit, it had promise of being most amusing.

---

King Gil-galad was restless. "Where is the Shipwright? He hasn't said one line, and frankly, I'm beginning to wonder if he's going to join my Fellowship at all."

"He won't be coming," Gildor said. "I received the news from the Wandering Company. Cirdan says that his place is at the Grey Havens during the War of the Ring. He says that he will be waiting to 'ship us out' once the war is won or lost."

"Oh great. Now my Fellowship is short by one," Gil-galad said grumpily.

"Do you still look for a sign, King Gil-galad?" Elrond said.

"Yes, Elrond. We cannot set out until we number nine."

"Turn your face from the green world and look where all seems barren and cold," Elrond said. Gil-galad turned and beheld the most perfect Elrond that he'd ever seen. He was like Elrond in face and form, tall and raven-dark hair. But there was a great light in the face of this Elrond, and he wore a stunning necklace.

"Yé, utúvienyes, I have found it!" Gil-galad exclaimed. "Lo, here is a sign of the most perfect of Elronds. But how comes it here?"

"It?" said the Elrond with a raised eyebrow. "I am Dior Eluchil, and I am seeking for my sons."

"And here you have found them," Elured cheered merrily and hugged his father. Elurin joined his brother's embrace of their father.

"I dreamt that I would see you again," Dior said as he looked fondly upon his fully grown children.

"And here in the House of Elrond your dreams shall be made clear to you," Gil-galad said. "Here is Ringil, the sword that was broken. The sword was broken beneath King Fingolfin when he fell in single combat against Morgoth, when he gave the Dark Lord seven wounds and hewed his foot."

"My dreams only included seeing my sons again. They said nothing of you," Dior said. "Who are you? And what have you to do with anything?"

Gil-galad drew Anduril, which caught the sunlight. "I am Ereinion, the scion of kings, son of Fingon, son of Fingolfin, and am called Gil- galad, the Star of Radiance, the High King of the Noldor. Here is the Sword that was Broken and is forged again! Will you aid me or thwart me? Choose swiftly!"

Dior looked curiously at this sudden demonstration. "And I am Dior the Beautiful, son of Beren Erchamion and Luthien the Fair, who long ago won a Silmaril from the very crown of the Dark Lord Morgoth, and am called Aranel, Elf-king, and also Eluchil, Thingol's heir, King of Doriath, King of Beleriand, and King of the Sindar. What is your point?"

Elrond coughed delicately. "I believe, Dior, that Gil-galad would like for you to join our Fellowship."

Elros did an identical cough at this delicate moment. "And Gil- galad, my King, does Fingon know that you have his sword? I believe he had it reforged for his own Fellowship of the Ring."

"Couldn't he have just used his spear Aeglos?" Elrohir asked.

"Master Elrond, may I speak?" said Elured. "What is this Ring of which we've heard so much about? What is its worth above the other Rings of Power?"

"Indeed. We are familiar only with the Silmarils," said Elurin.

Elrond held up his hand and showed them Vilya, the Ring of Air. "There were nine rings made for Men, seven rings for the Dwarves, and three rings for the Elves. Celebrimbor forged the Three Elven Rings and hid them from Sauron when he discovered that he had been tricked by the Dark Lord, who had forged One Ring to rule them all."

"Celebrimbor!" Dior exclaimed. "Son of Curufin, son of Feanor? It was he and his brothers Celegorm and Caranthir who attacked Doriath for the Nauglamir, which then had the Silmaril." Dior brought his hand to the exquisite necklace and fingered its center that now lacked the Jewel of Feanor. "If he was deceived by the Dark Lord, then it is no surprise to me. Let the sons of Feanor deal with this One Ring, and may they be captured and tormented in the Dark Lord's dungeons."

"The quest goes beyond them," Elladan said. "All of the free people of the world are now in danger. If we do not destroy the One Ring, all the land will be covered in darkness. Surely you would not want to see Middle- earth in such a state."

"And Gil-galad is a good king, the last whose realm was fair and free between the mountains and the Sea," said Elrohir. "Our father was his herald in the last battle with Sauron."

"Very well. I trust your opinions. I will join your company then, for the sake of my scions of kings," said Dior as he looked with great liking to his descendants.

"Are you sure you can handle them all?" Gildor said to Gil-galad with a crooked smile. "It seems to me that our situation has not improved."

"At least we're diverse," Elrohir said brightly. "I heard Legolas complaining about that matter. But in our Fellowship, we have Elves, Men, and Maiar."

"Diverse?" Gildor repeated. "We have two stars, Gil-galad and myself, and now seven Elronds: Eluchil, Elured, Elurin, Elros, Elrond, Elladan, and Elrohir. Our company is hardly diverse."

"I'll take what I can get. We are a complete Fellowship of the Ring at last," Gil-galad said. "Now, let us pursue the One Ring. We will make such a chase as shall be accounted a marvel among the Three Kindreds: Elves, Men, and Maiar. Forth the Three Hunters!"

The seven Elronds looked at each other. "Um, my King," Elrond said, "we'd appreciate it if you counted each of us as a separate person."

"Forth the Nine Hunters?" Gildor said.

"Nine walkers," Elros corrected. "And again, Gil-galad, does your father know you have his sword?"

---

"I can't go to Mordor," Fingolfin said. "I can't find my sword anywhere."

"I think your son took it," Finarfin said unhelpfully.

"And we don't have nine people," Fingolfin said.

"Nine?" Feanor repeated. "Why do we need nine?"

"Nine walkers set against nine riders that are evil," Finarfin said.

"Oh, please, in the end, there was only Frodo, Sam, and Gollum. Three will be fine," Feanor said.

"I refuse to be your servant," Fingolfin said hotly.

"Sam? Oh no. You and Finarfin can be Frodo and Sam, and I'll be Gollum," Feanor said. "After all, it's me who wantsss it. My precioussss..."

"You want the One Ring?" Fingolfin said skeptically. "Why? So that you could set yourself up as another Dark Lord in his place?"

"Ring? Bah!" Feanor snorted. "Haven't you heard? Maedhrosss cast himself into a fiery crack of the earth with a Sssilmaril, and now, my precioussss is resssurfacing in Orodruin." Feanor laughed out loud. "Everyone is going for the One Ring? Oh good, then it means even Sauron doesn't know about the precioussss."

"How do we get a Silmaril out of molten lava?" Finarfin asked.

"I'll handle that part," Feanor said. "Now, let us depart, our hope is in speed and secrecy. If we arrive too late, Orodruin will erupt, and though it may be an amusing sight, I'd rather not see the Silmaril shot into the sky. There's already one Silmaril in the air, and woe be to Earendil if it should happen to knock his ship out of the heavens. No, we will save you before that." Feanor's eyes gleamed. "It's mine. My own. My preciousss..."

"He does that much too well," Finarfin said with a shudder.

"He does indeed," Fingolfin whispered. "We will accompany him to Mordor, to keep an eye on him and to meet with the other Elves as well. I want my sword back."

"One does not simply walk into Mordor," Finarfin said aloud. "More than just Orcs guard the black gate. There is evil there that does not sleep. And the great eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland of fire and ash. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this."

"Have you heard nothing that Feanor has said?" Fingolfin said. "We are not alone in our quest. Five Fellowships of the Ring have already set off. Yay, we could not storm the Dark Tower with ten thousand men, not since the decline of the House of Hador, but surely this can be done with thirty-seven Elves, seven Half-elves with the blood of a Maia, and one Hound of Valinor."

Feanor grinned at Fingolfin. "Leave everything that can be spared behind. We travel light in search of Light. Let's hunt some Orc!"