Fan Fiction ❯ Suraj Hua Maddham ❯ Is it fate or destiny? ( Chapter 7 )

Chapter 7 "Is it Fate or Destiny?"

Author's notes: I was over-listening to the song that inspired this fic, so I got re-inspired to work on it. Aragorn talks to Frodo, and it is through this talk that Frodo decides what to do with his newfound life. What is his choice? Read on and please review! 'Blah' is Elvish.

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Frodo had begun to hyperventilate when Aragorn came back and told Boromir to seek help with his slightly bleeding head from Pippin. The young Took from the Shire had become Aragorn's medical aide, and was glad to become a helpful member of the Fellowship. "Breathe, Frodo. Breathe in, and out. I don't think Legolas would want his lover to be in such distress. I cannot help you if you faint," Aragorn said lightly.

"How is Legolas?" Frodo demanded, running up to Aragorn and shaking the Man as hard as he could.

"I will tell you his condition when you tell me fully how he got in that condition," Aragorn countered.

Fëanor's heir looked defeated, and was. He sat down on a rather large rock, and Aragorn knelt down in front of him. "When we left the campsite, we began…we got carried away I guess…but my-I mean, Fëanor's ring began to glow but neither of us noticed. That was until we went further, then that's when the sapphire began to glow very brightly, and it pushed Legolas off of me, and he collided with that tree." Frodo pointed to said tree without looking up and continued. "Then a column of light sprung from the sapphire, and…Aragorn, I saw Fëanor, son of Finwë."

Isildur's heir felt his eyes widen tremendously, and his mind began to race. "What did Fëanor say, Frodo?"

At this, Frodo broke down into tears. "He told me that no heir of his would love another male and that his soul was in this ring and if he had anything to do with it, I'll…I'll never touch Legolas again," Frodo sobbed.

Aragorn stood up and rubbed Frodo's back, calming him down. "The legend of Fëanor's ring has been vague and changed over the years in Middle-Earth. But it was never said that he would say such things to his heir."

"But the truth is, he did, Aragorn, and I don't know what to do," Frodo confessed. "I cannot so easily give up on my destiny."

Aragorn raised an eyebrow. "Which destiny do you speak of? The one with Legolas or the one that says you are Fëanor's heir?"

The brown-haired Elf looked conflicted. (By the Gods, which one do I mean? It was fate that brought me to drink from Galadriel's fountain, and transform me into an Elf, and that told me I was the heir of Fëanor, son of King Finwë. But…it was my destiny to take the leap of faith with Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood. I have made my choice.)

"Frodo?" Aragorn's voice broke the Elf's thoughts.

Frodo's lips curved into a wary, but confident smile. "My name is no longer Frodo Baggins, son of Drogo and nephew of Bilbo. I am Farandël, heir of Fëanor, but more importantly, I am destined to be with Legolas Greenleaf of Mirkwood. That is my destiny and it is stronger than my fate of moulding myself to be Fëanor's ideal heir." He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Now, as you promised, tell me Legolas' condition."

Aragorn's lips bore a strange smile, and the Elf raised an eyebrow as if to question to smile. "Why don't you ask him yourself?"

Farandël whirled around and saw Legolas, all patched up. 'Legolas!' he exclaimed.

Legolas looked at the Elf with eyes that threatened to spill tears. A quivering smile was on his lips and Legolas embraced Farandël. "I heard everything you said," Legolas whispered.

His Elven lover was still in shock, but returned the embrace. "I-it seems that I have made it over the canyon on that leap of faith I took with you, Legolas," Farandël whispered.

"Even if you fell, my Farandël, my hand would be the one to pull you up," Legolas whispered back. A sudden trumpet blare interrupted the two, and as they turned around to where the sound was coming from, the Fellowship ran up to where the two Elves were to see Haldir and his men approaching.

"Haldir?" Aragorn questioned, "what brings you all the way out here?"

The blond Elf looked not at Aragorn, but straight at Farandël. "Lord Elrond wishes to speak with the one named Farandël."

"Okay, two questions then," Pippin spoke up. "One: how do you know we even have a Farandël in our group, and two: how do you plan on getting all eight of us to Rivendell when we're a long ways past Lothlorièn?"

Haldir now looked at the one that asked the question. "The ring on that Elf's finger clearly shows the identity of the one named Farandël, and you will ride with my men, of course."

"Oh. Okay…I was just making sure," Pippin replied, now subdued. "Continue…"

Haldir turned away from Pippin, got off his horse, and walked over to Farandël. "I could not believe Lord Elrond when he said the heir to the Elven Empire was really here. But now that I have seen for myself that you are real, Farandël, we must make haste to Rivendell!"

"Haldir, may I request that I ride with Farandël?" Legolas asked quietly, stepping forward.

The Elf commander looked confused. "Why would you request that, Legolas?" The Prince responded by entwining Farandël's fingers with his own. "Oh…I see." Haldir paused for a moment, contemplating his decision. "You may, Legolas, I will ride on another horse."

"Thank you, Haldir," Legolas thanked, looking very much relieved. Quickly, the Fellowship joined Haldir's men, with Farandël and Legolas at the front with Haldir and Aragorn. "My Farandël, why are you so tense?"

Farandël relaxed a little as Legolas asked his question. "I guess I am just curious as to what Lord Elrond wishes to talk to me about," he confessed.

Legolas tightened his grip on Farandël's waist gently. "I doubt seriously that it is anything bad."

"But," Farandël whispered, his knuckles turning white as he tightly gripped the reins. "He may talk to me about what Fëanor told me."

"Do not worry. That is your fate. I am your destiny," Legolas whispered. "They are two very different things. And one is stronger than the other, my Farandël." Farandël chuckled, and Legolas raised an eyebrow.

Farandël smiled, keeping silent, as he tugged gently on the reins. The white horse sped up its pace a little, now a little ways back of Haldir's horse. The rolling hills and almost endless prairies provided a nice contrast to their travel-worn party. Legolas' grip stayed firm but loose around his waist, the Prince's fingers playing idly with the clasp of the buckle on Farandël's belt. The Fellowship was quiet, the hardship of walking on foot for such a long distance finally taking their toll.

Boromir, who was riding with Merry, kept tightening and loosening his grip on the leather reins, as he watched Legolas play with the buckle of Farandël's belt. All the Man of Gondor could think about was how he was so close to getting the Elf for his own, but Farandël would not get Legolas out of his mind. (When are you going to understand that that stupid Prince is not the one for you?) He had no idea when this fixation with the Elf began, but he concurred that it must have happened the day after Frodo talked to Galadriel. His thoughts went idly to what happened after Haldir arrived, and Boromir wondered what Elrond had to say to Farandël.

Aragorn turned his head in a slightly awkward position, looking back at Legolas and Farandël, then to Boromir. The heir of Isildur had been observing Boromir, and now had a clear idea of what was going on. Aragorn had seen Boromir massaging and kissing Farandël's neck, but kept himself hidden in the bushes. (Boromir's feelings towards Farandël are not merely awkwardness anymore. He's been hiding this crush of sorts since Frodo turned into Farandël. I wonder, what must I do to ensure that Farandël's safety is not threatened, and at the same time control Boromir's volatile emotions? I must seek Elrond's counsel.)

Samwise was riding with one of Haldir's men, and was fighting not to fall off. The horse was fast, there was no doubting that, but it also had this tendency to run in non-straight patterns, causing the plump hobbit to hang on for dear life. "Might I suggest you seek some counsel in CONTROLLING YOUR HORSE!" he demanded to the Elf. The soldier merely smiled, and tugged on the reins, causing his horse to stop running in non-straight patterns. "I swear, these Elves have it in for me, when I hast not done a thing to them!"

"I would just go out on a limb and say that you are not a horse hobbit, Samwise," Pippin called from his spot with another one of Haldir's Elves. "You're just paranoid."

Sam muttered a few choice expletives under his breath, and glared heatedly at the Elf that was controlling the horse he was on. Pippin just laughed, as did Gimli and even Aragorn had to stifle a chuckle. "You're all against me, and I have no idea why!" Sam complained, huffing. "Is it because I'm fat?"

"Oh yes, that's the exact reason we're picking on you," Pippin agreed sarcastically. "It's not because you walk right into the insults, it can't be that, Samwise Gamgee!"

Interrupting this little bit of banter between the two hobbits was Haldir. "We'll stop here for the night. It is getting late and we must make a suitable shelter to hide ourselves from the Ringwraiths." Everyone nodded, and soon dismounted from their horses, then began to help with the preparations for the night's campout.

Farandël was given the job of gathering firewood for the fire, and Aragorn volunteered to go with him. Unsheathing Sting, Farandël sliced through the vines in the forest they had entered, humming an old Shire song he learned from Bilbo. "It's a nice night, don't you think so Aragorn?"

Aragorn raised an eyebrow. "Yes, it is a beautiful night. If I may ask, why are you in such a good mood?"

Farandël thought for a moment, then shrugged. "I am not sure. It feels as though my heart is lighter than a feather, and most likely from my choice I made earlier. Where I decided my destiny is stronger than my fate."

"That would lighten anyone's mood, I'm sure," Aragorn agreed, picking up some pieces of firewood. After getting what they thought was a generous amount of firewood, the two headed back to the camp. "You started to make dinner already?"

Haldir smiled. "Yes, the hobbits were complaining of wind pains, so we thought it best to start making something to eat quickly." He turned to Farandël. "Your Legolas said he wanted to talk to you. He's waiting over there." Haldir pointed to a small patch of forest.

"Thank you, Haldir," Farandël thanked, then went over to where the Elf had pointed him. He saw Legolas sitting on a rock, picking petals off of a sunflower. 'Legolas?'

The blonde Elf started, and turned around, seeing his Elven lover, and smiled broadly. 'I was wondering when you would come back, my Farandël.'

'Well, I am back, so worry no more,' Farandël replied, sitting down beside Legolas. Unbeknownst to the two Elves, there were dark shadows moving quickly about in the trees, making not a sound, but watching the two of them intently. 'Haldir said you wanted to talk to me?'

Legolas nodded. 'Yes, I did want to talk to you. Aragorn told me about what happened with your ring, and what Fëanor said to you…' Farandël tensed, remembering the angry words the son of Finwë spewed at him. 'Do you…do you believe him?' Legolas' eyes showed his trepidation.

Farandël paused, then began to talk. 'I don't. Fëanor may be my predecessor, but I have already decided that that is not as important as you are to me, my Legolas. More than the title of Fëanor's heir, is what you mean to me, and I don't care what he says. He can yell at me all he wants until he is blue in the face in spiritual form, but I won't listen. Legolas, I love y-'

Cutting off Farandël's words was a swift hit to the back of his neck, knocking him unconscious. Legolas could not see who had done such a thing, as the shadows moved too quickly around him. One of them punched him in the stomach, and the Elven Prince fell to the ground from the impact, unconscious. Another shadowy figure picked up Farandël. 'Let us go before the rest of them come.'

The second one nodded. 'So this one is Farandël?'

Pausing, the first one looked at the unconscious Elf. 'He has got the ring that bears the mark of Fëanor. There can be no mistake.'

A third shadowy figure studied Farandël's face. 'Yes, this is he that is spoken of in the legend. Quick! We must make haste before we are caught!' Just as quickly as they had appeared, the three figures darted out of sight. And with Farandël.

-TBC-

Author's notes: Ooh, who are those shadowy figures and what do they want with our Farandël? Please review with your thoughts on this chapter! Peace and love, all!