Disclaimer: I do not own the works of The Lord of the Rings; this belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien, or the works of Harry Potter, which belong to J.K. Rowling. Any familiar dialogue or scenes belong to their respective owners.
Hermione awoke the next morning, a sharp headache rapidly draining her patience. Pain pulsed behind her eyes, sending sharp surges through her skull with every slight movement. Every sound seemed amplified; even the soft clinking of dishes grated on her nerves, their echoes unsettling her fragile composure. The sunlight streaming through the high Elven windows struck her as unbearably bright, each ray intensifying her headache. She picked at her breakfast, fixing her plate with a serious expression, unable to shake the memories from the previous night that fuelled her irritation. Each bite tasted like ashes, her hunger drowned out by the persistent pain and the mix of embarrassment and longing left by her dance with Legolas.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡK9nNBR4oS7
Draco and Harry recognised Hermione’s foul mood and exchanged wary glances, taking care not to provoke her. They dropped their usual banter and deliberately kept silent, moving cautiously around the room’s edges. Draco, who would usually tease her, spoke in a low voice and restrained his gestures. Meanwhile, Harry remained close by, watching Hermione with gentle concern as he occasionally glanced over to check on her. Both did their best to stay inconspicuous, quietly handing her a platter of fruit or refilling her glass without saying a word, so as not to draw attention or risk worsening her irritation.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbBaCugrpNd
The Fellowship planned to depart that day, and Hermione blamed herself for heeding Draco’s encouragement to drink the night before. She now suffered the consequences: a fierce headache, tired, gritty eyes, and a world that assaulted her senses—painfully vivid yet oddly surreal. With every slow movement and deep breath, her temples pounded in time with her heartbeat, the dull ache refusing to subside. Exhaustion made her eyes heavy and swollen, burning with each blink as if sand scratched beneath her lashes. The high windows let in a gentle breeze that did little to help, while sunlight stabbed straight through her skull. Regret mingled with the lingering taste of mead in her throat, heightening her queasy, restless state. In that moment, Hermione longed to have followed her own better judgement rather than giving in to Draco’s reckless advice.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMyokxCUTYE
Uneasy, Hermione rubbed her eyes to ease the pain and spoke softly to her friends, ‘What happened last night?’35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7pvU9jXF26
Harry and Draco shared wary looks, then faced Hermione, their expressions filled with hesitation and concern. Harry gently asked, ‘In what respect?’ His tone revealed his uncertainty as he tried to determine whether Hermione wanted detailed information.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBmNGQxdg2E
Draco couldn’t resist teasing and said, ‘Was it the moment you got drunk and kept giggling incessantly? Or when you danced on the tables? Or when-’ He abruptly stopped when Hermione shot him a sharp glare, wisely deciding not to share more embarrassing memories.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡK7K3ay5vpz
Harry leaned across the table and gently took Hermione’s hand, reassuringly squeezing it. He used a calm, comforting voice to ease her embarrassment and worry. ‘Nothing like that happened,’ he said quietly, shooting Draco a sharp glare when the Slytherin tried to make another teasing comment. Turning back to Hermione, Harry continued, ‘You drank some mead and fell asleep at the buffet table. I carried you to your room,’ he finished, gently running his thumb over her knuckles to comfort her.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡR9SOo7Dxmw
Hermione sighed and pressed her head onto her folded arms on the table, her mortification plain to see. Frustration coloured her voice as she muttered, ‘How embarrassing,’ wrestling with the impact her dance with Legolas had left on her. After a moment, she mustered the strength to lift her head and glance at her friends. ‘How are you guys?’ she asked quietly, trying to shift the focus from her embarrassment and restore a sense of normalcy among them.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbXWWgWfVvD
Harry gave Hermione a reassuring smile as he responded to her question. ‘I’m fine. I didn’t drink much last night,’ he said casually, lifting the delicate teacup the Elves had given him. He finished the last sip, letting the aroma linger in the air. The tea’s sweetness, paired with a faint rose scent, brought a freshness and an unusual comfort compared to what they usually drank at home. Harry set the cup down carefully and looked at Draco and Hermione, quietly appreciating how the Elvish brew soothed him amid the morning’s unease.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsolKnbAAkv
Draco disrupted the quiet of the breakfast table by tapping his cup in a steady rhythm. Hermione scowled at him in warning, making it clear she wasn’t in the mood for his antics, and he stopped immediately. Unfazed, Draco leaned back and said, ‘I can guzzle booze like it is going out of fashion. It never bothers me.’ Harry and Hermione looked at each other, their faces showing disbelief and slight annoyance as they expressed scepticism towards his boasting. Noticing their doubt, Draco grinned smugly and clarified, ‘What I mean is I never get hangovers.’ Despite their reactions, he kept his self-satisfied smirk, enjoying the attention with unwavering confidence.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡthBAzYFdGY
Hermione gave Draco an envious look and muttered a regretful comment, ‘Lucky for some.’ Almost immediately, a sharp pain stabbed her temples, and she groaned involuntarily. She grimaced and pressed her hand to her forehead as the pounding intensified.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYsSUfags56
Someone called from the stairs, ‘Lady Hermione?’ Hermione turned to look, but the movement sent a sharp, pounding pain through her head, making tears sting her eyes.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYpZ0QezuH0
Harry saw Sam approaching and, noticing Hermione’s discomfort, replied for her, ‘Hey, Sam,’ his concern clear in his voice. He quickly checked to see if Hermione was alright before turning his attention to Sam, who had just arrived at their table.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiA8bfb1h3e
Sam placed a goblet of liquor on the table. Hermione eyed the drink with suspicion, her face growing pale at the thought of drinking again so soon after last night’s overindulgence. She shot Sam a frown, her expression combining confusion and mild annoyance, as she caught the sweet scent of the clear cordial. ‘Why would you give me this?’ she asked cautiously, examining the goblet and unsure about the contents.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOOdKGcghBE
Sam smiled softly and explained, ‘It’s called Miruvor. Strider said it should help clear your head,’ he reassured Hermione. He bowed politely to the trio and quietly departed without waiting for further questions, granting them privacy as Hermione pondered the remedy.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ86Q5xviZFy
Hermione tightened her grip on the goblet and whispered, ‘I trust Aragorn wouldn’t try to kill me,’ her voice carrying both resignation and determination. She blocked the strong smell by covering her nose and quickly drank the mead, her face tightening as the burn took effect. She placed the goblet down with a soft clang, bracing herself for the drink’s impact.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSf6iFsslsS
Draco studied Hermione’s face and the empty goblet she still held, his curiosity plain. He asked, ‘Did it work?’ and examined the remnants of the supposed cure, eager to see if the Miruvor had helped. He watched Hermione closely for any signs of improvement.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2bosbkaWzS
Hermione noticed her persistent headache eased significantly, and a surge of renewed energy replaced her earlier exhaustion. Looking at the goblet with mild surprise, she said, ‘It hasn’t cured it, but I feel much better.’ Genuine astonishment filled her voice as she recognised the unexpected relief Miruvor had provided. The improvement lifted her mood, and Hermione offered a small, grateful smile for the first time that morning.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzAARwTU2Fr
Harry gave Hermione an encouraging smile as he spoke, ‘Well, the journey should be smoother for you now,’ noticing her improved condition after she drank the Miruvor. Eager to avoid delay, he added, ‘Come on, we should go down and meet the others,’ and stood up, ready to leave.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3fO6vDIu7j
Harry led the way from the breakfast table, with Hermione and Draco following close behind. They navigated Rivendell’s winding corridors, their footsteps echoing softly against the ornate stone floors. Sunlight poured through the high arched windows, casting intricate shadows across ancient tapestries and polished wood panelling. As they walked, the subtle scent of Elf-blended herbs and distant singing filled the air, giving the morning a calm yet anticipatory mood.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdSqHRrLgIz
They spoke quietly about the upcoming journey, their voices soft in the grand halls, each carrying anticipation and a slight trace of fatigue. As they reached Rivendell’s entrance, gentle activity replaced the peaceful silence. Hermione, Harry, and Draco saw several members of the Fellowship already gathered near the ivy-covered archway at the courtyard’s edge. Sunlight danced across the stones, revealing the group’s varied cloaks, shining weapons, and faces marked by determination and rapport. Low voices and soft laughter filled the cool morning air while the group exchanged words and waited for the rest of their party, excited for the adventure beyond the gates.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡV4pceaMgM8
Excitement was evident on her face as Hermione scanned the group. She leaned towards Harry and Draco, spoke softly, and asked, ‘Where are Aragorn and Legolas?’ Her quiet tone revealed her curiosity about the missing key members before they left.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡI1zoZqafZJ
Draco scanned the crowd for familiar faces, spotted someone on the staircase, and signalled to the approaching figure. ‘There’s Legolas,’ Draco said, pointing to the Elf. Legolas saw the trio, descended the stairs gracefully, and walked towards them.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJTPPV4RVqL
Harry furrowed his brow and scanned the crowd at the Rivendell courtyard entrance, trying to answer Hermione’s question. He didn’t spot Aragorn anywhere among the Fellowship. With a slight shrug, he said honestly, ‘I have no idea where Aragorn could be,’ his voice uncertain. Concern flickered in his eyes, but Harry focused on their upcoming task and worked to conceal his unease as they prepared to begin their journey.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDnN0HOtrWJ
Legolas approached the group, carefully secured Bill the pony’s reins and saddle, and then turned to Harry, Hermione, and Draco. He noticed their curiosity about Aragorn’s absence and softly explained, ‘Aragorn is at his mother’s grave,’ speaking confidently. He held Hermione’s gaze, let it linger, and added, ‘He will join us soon,’ reassuring them about Aragorn’s upcoming arrival.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVZM8OsEDnv
Aragorn stood in the quiet seclusion of the forest before a statue depicting a beautiful woman, positioned near the place where the Fellowship was about to depart from Rivendell. Ancient trees sheltered the statue, while sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting shifting patterns across her carved features. The sculptor had folded her hands gently in front of her, imbuing them with delicate strength, and her stone fingers seemed to touch in silent prayer. The hood, sculpted to drape softly over her brow and cheeks, framed her peaceful face and gave her an aura of serene dignity. Moss and ivy curled around the base, concealing and protecting the worn inscription below.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡY8bRUQXK9Y
Aragorn knelt carefully before the statue and paused to compose himself. He reached out with both hands, his fingers trembling slightly as he traced the rough edge of the weathered plinth and felt the cold stone beneath the moss. Drawing a deep breath, he gently and respectfully cleared away the overgrown foliage, weeds, and debris accumulated over time. He peeled back delicate ivy tendrils with each movement, filled with quiet reverence. He set them aside, lifting brittle fallen leaves with careful precision, as though he hesitated to disturb the peaceful atmosphere of the secluded glade.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUQgTBnidSE
Aragorn uncovered the engraved words at the base and on the statue’s surface with great care, dirt gathering beneath his nails as the scent of earth filled the air. He moved slowly, deliberately, brushing away leaves and stems, often pausing to gently trace the faded inscriptions or dust the delicate carved features. Through his meticulous attention, he demonstrated his deep respect. When he finished, he renewed the monument, revealing its carved details once more beneath the dappled sunlight.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZxT24PMiqu
Aragorn gazed into the statue’s sorrowful face, his features marked by grief and memory. He met the stone woman’s eyes, seemingly expressing their understanding of loss and love. With emotion weighing on him, Aragorn steadied his hand and pressed it to his chest. He closed his eyes and bowed his head in quiet homage, letting the world fall away until the gentle rustling of leaves and the echo of unspoken words filled the air, enveloping him in a moment of deep remembrance and longing.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgpsiEXeFxV
Elrond stepped into the peaceful clearing and quietly watched Aragorn. The Ranger knelt before his mother’s statue, softly praying and lost in thought. Elrond respected Aragorn’s privacy and waited at the edge for a moment.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0m6XEspiKa
Elrond approached Aragorn gracefully once he finished his silent tribute and lowered his hand from his heart. Using a gentle, respectful tone filled with empathy, Elrond spoke to Aragorn in the Elvish language: ‘Anirne hene beriad i chên în. Ned Imladris nauthant e le beriathar aen.’ Throughout, Elrond bowed his head in solemn respect, honouring both Aragorn and the memory of his mother. (A/N Translation: ‘She wanted to protect her child. She thought that in Rivendell you would be safe’.)35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡORfJLJmwp1
Aragorn quietly gazed at his mother’s statue and softly touched her face, remembering her in silence. Unspoken emotions filled the peaceful clearing, creating a private moment of grief. Elrond observed Aragorn’s reverence, stepped closer, and stood behind him. In a gentle, heartfelt voice tinged with sorrow and empathy, he said, ‘In her heart, your mother knew you would be hunted all your life. That you would never escape your fate. The skill of the Elves can reforge the Sword of Kings, but only you have the power to wield it.’ His expression reflected the heavy burden of destiny and loss.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBwDsjH0i4e
Aragorn fixed his sorrowful, conflicted gaze on the statue and silently wrestled with the weight of his fate. After a moment, he turned to Elrond and met his eyes, allowing both defiance and pain to show. ‘I do not want that power. I have never wanted it,’ he said firmly. His words lingered, emphasising his reluctance to accept his inherited legacy and responsibilities.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhgScgCmRgY
Elrond stepped forward with a serious expression and calmly said to Aragorn, ‘You are the last of the bloodline. There is no other.’ He placed a reassuring hand on the Ranger’s shoulder, emphasising the finality of his words. Aragorn stood quietly before his mother’s statue, remaining silent and unmoved. His eyes stayed sombre and distant, and he reflected on the burden of his birthright, unwilling to accept Elrond’s words.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvMYe1avwqi
Bilbo packed the remaining belongings in Frodo’s room, carefully helping his nephew. The elderly Hobbit methodically searched a well-worn bag, then retrieved a scuffed leather scabbard. He turned to Frodo and drew the sword with a dramatic flourish. The bright, polished blade gleamed with a cold sparkle under the light, its fine craftsmanship evident even to those unfamiliar with swords. With a voice full of pride and nostalgia, Bilbo declared, ‘My old sword! Sting,’ as he gently but firmly extended the sword towards his nephew and said, ‘Here, take it. Take it.’35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdubLD29Ocu
Frodo reached out and wrapped his fingers around the hilt as he took the sword from Bilbo. Surprise and joy lit up his face while he held it. ‘It’s so light!’ Frodo exclaimed, his smile widening as he looked from the shining blade to his uncle. Bilbo watched his nephew admire Sting’s craftsmanship with pride, his eyes twinkling at Frodo’s reaction.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ267mOv7rOM
Bilbo nodded eagerly as Frodo examined the sword. ‘Yes, yes, made by the Elves, you know. The blade glows blue when Orcs are close… and it’s times like that, my lad, when you have to be extra careful,’ Bilbo warned sincerely. He showed genuine concern, but his expression softened into a warm smile when he noticed Frodo’s awe and excitement for the weapon.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡta2H4Ielsx
Frodo examined the sword closely, turning it over as he spoke. ‘So, it’s like the sword Aragorn gave me, but it glows only for when Orcs are near?’ he inquired, keeping his eyes fixed on the blade as he tried to understand its unique features. Intrigued by the weapon’s craftsmanship and exceptional quality, Frodo carefully studied it. The idea that such a small sword served both as a weapon and a warning filled him with awe and renewed his sense of purpose, marking an important moment in his preparation for the journey.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwcPr2alqBZ
With a warm smile, Bilbo reached for his bag and carefully unwrapped a finely woven mail shirt. He held the gleaming garment up for Frodo to see and said, ‘Here’s a pretty thing. Mithril; as light as a feather and as hard as dragon scales.’ His tone carried pride in the craftsmanship. Bilbo handed the mail shirt to Frodo and encouraged him, ‘Let me see you put it on. Come on,’ he said as he placed the precious mithril shirt into his nephew’s hands and invited him to try it on.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡR1h58NmYnl
Frodo sighed and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, hesitating with each movement as the fabric rustled softly. He drew the shirt away, exposing his pale skin. The golden Ring swung out from its delicate chain around his neck and caught the room’s dim light. The flawless surface shimmered, casting an almost hauntingly beautiful yet ominous glow. The chain whispered gently against Frodo’s skin as the Ring settled on his chest, naturally drawing all attention. Bilbo fixed his eyes on the glowing object, his surprise clear as he gasped sharply, startled by the Ring’s sudden, almost otherworldly presence.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKIU4YLJwaa
Frodo paused, holding the shirt, and looked at his uncle with concern. Bilbo fixed his intense gaze on the Ring, clearly hypnotised by its shiny gold surface. His hands trembled slightly, revealing his longing for the object he once possessed. Overcome with emotion, Bilbo pointed at the small golden Ring, his thin finger trembling as he hovered it in the air and whispered, full of awe and yearning, ‘My old Ring...’ Bilbo’s eyes grew shadowed, clearly showing the Ring’s powerful and lasting effect on his heart, even now.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡk8Gl7t5Hbp
Bilbo approached Frodo with hesitant, almost involuntary movements, as if an unseen force drove him. He fixed his wide, longing eyes on the golden Ring hanging from Frodo’s neck, and palpable tension filled the room. Bilbo nervously rubbed his hands, his fingers twitching with restless energy. Leaning in slightly and trembling, he softly whispered, ‘I should very much like… to hold it again, one last time.’ His words lingered, and his fragile exterior revealed a deep yearning. The Ring captivated Bilbo, awakening the familiar hunger from his days as its holder. He stared with growing intensity, his gaze nearly feverish, and the quiver in his voice revealed the Ring’s continued sway over him. Bilbo fought an internal battle—he longed to reclaim the Ring yet painfully recognised its hold over his heart and mind, unable to truly let go.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4jjytw4CIY
Frodo noticed his uncle’s sudden change in demeanour and quickly put his shirt back on, buttoning it tightly to hide the Ring from Bilbo. He fumbled with the buttons, his heart racing as a chill swept through the room. At the same time, a strange shadow crossed Bilbo’s face—his eyes widened and unfocused, his pupils dilated as if a dark spell controlled him. For a moment, Bilbo’s friendly expression shifted; his features twisted into a strained, longing mask, and his lips curled back into a feral grimace. He reached out with trembling, grasping hands, driven by an unnatural urge to reclaim what he had lost. His movements became jerky and frenzied, and he battled himself internally. Frodo stepped back, shocked, confused, and fearful, as the familiar Hobbit appeared momentarily possessed by a mysterious force. Frodo found Bilbo’s sudden change in behaviour deeply disturbing. He felt uncertain, seeing how the Ring’s influence visibly affected Bilbo and exposed a haunting transformation that stripped away his warmth, revealing the scars left by the Ring.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8UxtTMUgjX
The shadow faded, and Bilbo slumped into a nearby chair, overwhelmed. Tears filled the elderly Hobbit’s eyes as his shoulders shook. He struggled to speak but finally managed words heavy with sorrow and regret. ‘Oh!’ he sighed softly, voice trembling. ‘I’m sorry I brought this on you, my boy. I’m sorry you have to bear this burden,’ he whispered, tears running down his face. ‘I’m sorry for everything,’ he added, his voice trembling painfully.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQKxmx4N5Y8
Frodo grew concerned by his uncle’s distress, and he gently placed his hand on Bilbo’s shoulder, quietly reassuring him and helping steady him in his overwhelming grief. Bilbo felt Frodo’s kindness and warmth piercing through his cold regret. Trembling, Bilbo lifted his hand and covered Frodo’s, gripping it weakly but desperately to cling to the small comfort amid his despair.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgUuFqolKeb
Bilbo’s tears flowed down his face, glistening as they traced the deep lines of age and worry on his features. He openly wept for his nephew—each sob carried pain, and every tear reflected his sorrow and regret over the heavy burden Frodo had to bear. His shoulders trembled as he struggled to regain composure, his grief laid bare before Frodo. Frodo gripped his uncle’s hand tightly, quietly offering support, his eyes shining with unshed tears.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDLMLjj93lW
Lord Elrond entered the room, his long robes softly trailing over the polished floorboards as the faint gleam of starlight caught in his silver hair. Sorrow clouded Elrond’s face as he observed the two Hobbits huddled together in their shared grief and resolve. He paused in the doorway, his presence commanding and comforting, silently filling the room with quiet authority. Then he stepped forward and spoke to Frodo in a gentle but firm tone. His voice remained low yet resonant as he said, ‘It is time, Frodo Baggins.’35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBXQ9lMeU6N
Frodo nodded, showing both resolve and sorrow, and stepped forward to assist Bilbo. He gently placed his arm under Bilbo’s shoulder, supporting the elder Hobbit as emotion and age made him hesitate. Frodo’s reassuring and firm touch silently promised comfort during this emotional farewell.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZplLgR9IPg
Once Frodo steadied his uncle, he turned his attention to his preparations. He gathered his belongings, treating each item as if it held memories of home and promised new adventures. He inspected his bag to ensure he packed everything necessary for the arduous journey ahead. Frodo then picked up Bilbo’s sword, whose blade glimmered faintly in the gentle light of the room. He gripped the hilt, feeling its weight and balance—a concrete symbol of the trials that awaited him and the bravery he needed.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIvhq3ptonI
With Elrond accompanying them, Frodo and Bilbo left the room together and descended the stairs side by side. Their soft footsteps echoed through the tranquil halls, merging with the distant murmurs of Rivendell’s people and the gentle morning breeze drifting through open windows. Bowing with age and the emotional strain of their parting, Bilbo moved slowly but kept his hand lightly on Frodo’s arm, silently offering support. Elrond led them, his steady, graceful figure and flowing robes reminiscent of moonlight. They descended the grand staircase, each step heavy with meaning—the pain of leaving safety mingling with anticipation for the unknown beyond.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPiLvas8HbV
Bilbo quietly departed from Frodo’s side as they approached the entrance and walked towards the Elves who had gathered to say farewell. The gentle hum of the crowd mingled with faint Elvish music and the soft rustling of cloaks. Small and stooped among the tall, graceful Elves, Bilbo showed a face full of mixed emotions—he felt relief at seeing old friends, sorrow at the imminent parting, and a nostalgic longing for the peace that Rivendell had given him. The Elves greeted him with serene smiles and gentle words, and their bright eyes displayed empathy for his age and burdens.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIYfxdJcQGX
Lord Elrond placed his hand gently on Frodo’s shoulder as he stood nearby, offering warmth and reassurance amid the morning’s chill. He met Frodo’s gaze with a serious yet supportive expression, offering him strength for what was to come. He stated steadily but gently, ‘The time has come for the Ring to begin its journey.’35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0GH58AFzOk
Frodo locked eyes with Elrond and silently nodded, fully understanding the heavy duty resting on his shoulders. Frodo’s resolve shone through in that moment as he prepared to shoulder the burden that could determine Middle-earth’s future.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoKyzrQL4I5
As they neared the rest of the Fellowship waiting at the Gate of Rivendell, Elrond explained, ‘You cannot count on your journey being aided by war or force. You will pass into the domain of the enemy, far from aid,’ making it clear that isolation and danger lay beyond Rivendell.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbfkEl5T2XI
He then paused and fixed Frodo with a steady, solemn gaze. Elrond sought confirmation of Frodo’s commitment despite the daunting challenge as he asked, ‘Do you still hold to your word, Frodo, that you will be the Ring-bearer?’35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUEq4zYrvDm
As Elrond’s question pressed upon him, Frodo sought reassurance and support from the Fellowship. He steadied himself with a deep breath and met Elrond’s gaze, replying with quiet resolve, ‘I do. I must. I will go with Sam,’ though his voice carried a trace of doubt.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡL2YVJ8mmHW
Elrond slowly nodded, his concern and sympathy evident. He gently comforted Frodo by placing a hand on his shoulder. ‘Then I cannot help you much, not even with counsel,’ Elrond said, his voice tinged with regret as he softly shook his head. He continued, uncertainty clouding his face. ‘I can foresee very little of your road; and how your task is to Mountains and draws nigh even to the borders of the Greyflood; and under the Shadow, all is dark to me.’ Elrond closed his eyes as he spoke and searched for clearer visions of Frodo’s route, but the future stayed hidden and uncertain. 35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9Ptt0mLw1J
Elrond fixed Frodo with a serious expression and cautioned, ‘You will meet many foes, some open, and some disguised; and you may find friends upon your way when you least look for it.’ Elrond paused thoughtfully before adding, ‘I will send out messages, such as I can contrive, to those whom I know in the wide world; but so perilous have the lands now become that some may well miscarry or come no quicker than you yourself.’ His words reassured Frodo of both his desire to help and his awareness of the dangers threatening Middle-earth.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvrTo2MaYOl
Lord Elrond surveyed the Fellowship as they patiently awaited the start of their journey, while the Elves silently observed the secret exchange. Everyone sensed the impending challenges and felt anticipation, with hope and aid delicately holding firm against the looming darkness.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgycQPEDY7S
Elrond drew a deep, weary breath as shadows of old memories clouded his face. He remarked grimly, ‘Had I a host of Elves clad in armour of the Elder Days, it would avail little, save to arouse the power of Mordor.’ He briefly closed his eyes, recalling the distant past and reflecting on the futility of openly confronting such darkness. Opening his eyes again, Elrond fixed Frodo with a steady, serious gaze. He glanced momentarily at the Fellowship again before calmly asking, ‘Are you confident in your companions?’35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwTh9xYl4OM
Frodo nodded thoughtfully as he looked at the Fellowship. ‘Yes, Lord Elrond. I must be, I’m afraid, for if I doubt them, we may never succeed,’ he said softly but confidently. He drew a deep breath and composed himself, recognising how crucial it was to trust his companions. Frodo understood that their success depended on their unity and mutual trust.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzj9XPv3Bea
Elrond nodded thoughtfully and asked, ‘And what of your Hobbit friends?’ Frodo looked at him with a slight frown, unsure of what Elrond might say next. The Elf Lord used a gentle voice with a hint of concern. ‘I had hoped to send them back to the Shire as messengers, to warn your people of the impending danger, in keeping with the customs of your land.’ Elrond looked at the three Hobbits and scrutinised them carefully as he outlined his reasons. He paused briefly, chose his words carefully, then said, ‘I feel the youngest, Peregrin Took, should not go with you. My heart is against it.’ Elrond looked at Pippin with concern, clearly worrying for the young Hobbit. He recognised Pippin’s loyalty and bravery but remained uncomfortable with the risks facing someone so young and inexperienced.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2XY10VLrV4
Frodo gently shook his head and brushed off Elrond’s worry. He gazed fondly at Pippin and, with amusement, remarked, ‘His heart is set upon going. There will be no stopping him, even if you did send him home in a sack.’ Frodo’s gentle expression revealed that he appreciated his friend’s stubbornness; he understood Pippin’s resolve and recognised that no authority could change his mind.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeRYB2GWEDP
Elrond nodded gently, conveying the seriousness of his decision. ‘Let it be so, then. The Fellowship awaits,’ he said, his tone blending solemnity with gentle encouragement.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ074RWCA26h
Elrond and Frodo made their way down the stairs, their footsteps echoing softly through the courtyard. The cool air carried the subtle fragrance of autumn leaves from the nearby woods, while golden sunlight poured through the decorative windows, casting intricate patterns across the stone floor. When they reached the bottom, Frodo joined the Fellowship, who stood assembled and ready to begin their journey. Determination and quiet concern marked their faces as they checked their cloaks and equipment. Choosing to travel on foot, they demonstrated their resilience and the importance of stealth, fully aware that secrecy was essential to avoid hostile attention. Bill the pony stood alongside them and stirred the fallen leaves with his hooves, carrying most of the supplies—food, blankets, water-skins, and other essentials—securely strapped to his sturdy back to lighten their burdens.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpeCCOYxXeO
With a solemn look, Elrond addressed the Elves, focusing on the assembled Fellowship, who stood as their only hope against the rising darkness. He spoke seriously to those preparing for the dangerous journey. ‘The Ring-bearer is setting out on the Quest of Mount Doom. On you who travel with him, no oath or bond is laid to go further than you will,’ he emphasised, making clear that each person had the freedom to choose their own path. As Elrond spoke, Aragorn met Arwen’s gaze, and together, they silently accepted the importance of these words.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4ZWHGj2ASQ
Elrond faced the Fellowship and offered his final words: ‘Farewell. Hold to your purpose. May the blessings of the Elves, Men, and all Free Folk go with you.’ He gave each of them a kind smile, providing hope and encouragement.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeCa5rsAA3V
Legolas and Aragorn bowed and placed a hand over their hearts to show respect. They performed these gestures slowly and deliberately, embodying the grace and dignity inherent in Elven customs. Legolas moved with fluid, precise motions, briefly closing his eyes to honour the moment. At the same time, Aragorn, though human, mirrored the ritual with a natural ease, reflecting his years spent among the Elves. Sunlight caught the delicate embroidery on their cloaks, bathing the scene in an almost otherworldly glow.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡecdkQZ9WgU
Hermione observed and recognised the gesture as a traditional Elven sign of respect—something she had studied during her childhood lessons. The deliberate choreography of the bow and hand positioning communicated respect and kinship in silence, serving as more than a formality. She understood that these gestures symbolised honour to the assembly and embodied a mutual understanding between Elves. Aware that Aragorn had grown up in Rivendell, she knew he would recognise the significance of these rituals; his actions revealed his strong connection to the Elven community and genuine commitment to upholding their traditions.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSzX2Zvftcs
Legolas approached Arwen as Hermione closely observed their traditional Elven farewell. The Elves moved in flawless harmony, taking light and deliberate steps as if a melody only they could hear guided them. Each lifted a hand to touch the other’s cheek gently, their fingertips meeting briefly in a silent gesture of affection and respect. Simultaneously, they bowed their heads so that their foreheads nearly touched and closed their eyes in reverence. They pressed their free hands gently to their hearts, symbolising sincerity and a strong bond. This gesture radiated the quiet dignity characteristic of Elven customs—a combination of grace, formality, and deep emotion. Hermione recalled this ritual from her childhood lessons, recognising it as a meaningful act of courtesy and kinship, reserved for significant farewells among the Elves.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjE7MQgTeJj
After saying farewell to Arwen, Legolas walked up to Elrond, repeating the gesture with measured, graceful steps that suited his Elven status. A quiet reverence filled the atmosphere, highlighting tradition and mutual respect. With humble dignity, Legolas bowed his head and placed a slender hand over his heart in the traditional Elven manner, lowering his eyes in respect. The filtered sunlight made his hair shimmer, emphasising the elegant tilt of his head as he awaited recognition from Rivendell’s Lord.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFtKQvIVhKx
Elrond acknowledged Legolas’s royal status among the Elves and nodded deeply in approval. In a gesture rarely seen among them, Elrond leaned down and gently kissed Legolas’s forehead—a mark of respect and affection reserved for those of noble blood, symbolising both blessing and kinship in their culture.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6mBcXZoYOD
Everyone in the company remained silent, fully aware that their journey would shape their fate. Sensing the tension, Gandalf steadied the group with his presence, addressing them with quiet authority, and announced softly, ‘The Fellowship awaits the Ring-bearer,’ his voice echoing through the courtyard.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRmSB6Vzt4I
Frodo gave a final glance at the gathered Elves, letting his gaze linger on their solemn faces as they watched the Fellowship prepare to depart. Their ancient, clear eyes shone with quiet empathy, expressing hope and sorrow beneath the gentle golden light that filled the courtyard. Some Elves raised their hands in silent blessing, while others maintained serious, dignified expressions, embodying centuries of wisdom and the emotions of loss and yearning for peace.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrssktpBPo4
The companions in the Fellowship faced him, waiting quietly and offering silent support. Each member showed their readiness: Aragorn maintained a steady gaze, Legolas stood tall and poised, Gimli gripped his axe, Boromir was alert and ready, the trio and Hobbits gave him encouraging smiles, and Gandalf’s wise eyes shone with reassurance. Their cloaks in shades of green and grey rustled softly as they moved, blending with the gentle hush of the courtyard. Frodo sensed their unity and silent support—an unspoken promise of loyalty and protection—and felt their presence could somehow lighten his burden.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRfTdLXMVFK
Frodo stepped to the front, acutely aware of his burden and the hopes of those who trusted him with this perilous quest. His heart beat rapidly as he walked, feeling the One Ring press against his chest while his footsteps echoed softly through the courtyard. Frodo paused at the threshold and drew a deep breath, readying himself for the journey. He let the cool autumn air fill his lungs, catching faint scents of moss and distant woodsmoke drifting up from the valley. Sunlight streamed through the archway overhead, casting intricate patterns across the marble steps beneath his feet. He listened for a moment to the gentle hum of Elven song and the rustling leaves behind him, hearing how these peaceful sounds contrasted with his silent apprehension about the path ahead. 35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxVRDYS3cwy
With slow, deliberate steps, Frodo crossed the Gate of Rivendell and entered the unknown, his heart pounding. He soon reached a fork in the road where the path split—the left trailing into shadow beneath ancient beech trees, the right winding along the river, shining with golden light. The moment’s significance struck him; possibility filled the air while the soft echo of Elvish blessings lingered behind him. Frodo looked uncertainly between the two paths, striving to hide his doubts from the others.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHJYKvRuJMk
Frodo edged towards Gandalf, who stood directly behind him, and softly asked, ‘Mordor, Gandalf, is it left or right?’35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡX2ZFiLFoG4
Gandalf gave Frodo a gentle, amused smile, recognising the doubt in the young Hobbit’s eyes. In a calm, soothing tone, he softly said, ‘Left.’ Gandalf placed a reassuring hand on Frodo’s left shoulder, guiding and supporting him. With this small gesture, he gently led Frodo onto the correct path.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡG593zQuKRi
Merry and Pippin quietly trailed after Gandalf, whispering about their upcoming journey. Their excitement and nervousness showed clearly, revealing their curiosity about what awaited them beyond Rivendell and the challenges ahead. They shared nervous smiles, their youthful spirit standing out against the solemn mood of the others. Occasionally, snippets of their conversation—about spotting the first troll or squeezing in a second breakfast—floated back, bringing a flash of lightness to the otherwise tense procession.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWzpI5csl5l
Legolas moved closely alongside Hermione, Harry, and Draco, scanning the forest ahead with his sharp eyes. He moved smoothly and silently, reassuring the group as he vigilantly checked for hidden dangers. Hermione clutched her beaded bag and kept pace with quiet determination, glancing towards Legolas occasionally to draw comfort from his calm confidence. Harry kept his hand near his wand under his cloak, cautiously observing the dappled trail as he absorbed the unfamiliar scenery. Draco, masking his nerves with uncertain bravado, maintained a close and composed distance, shifting his gaze between his companions and the wilds beyond. Together, the four formed a loose, protective group that created a small circle of fellowship amidst the valley’s impressive landscape.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8OEjkx1Yye
Sam guided Bill carefully by the reins, keeping the pony in step and securing his supplies. He softly encouraged the sturdy animal, checking the bundles tied to Bill’s back. From time to time, Sam looked ahead with wide, earnest eyes, torn between his awe at the adventure and his concern for Frodo. Bill, flicking his ears nervously, seemed to sense the journey’s significance and trudged steadily in Sam’s shadow.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1igrlRDlyn
Ever alert and vigilant, Boromir took the second last position at the back of the Fellowship to ensure no one fell behind as they left Rivendell. His broad shoulders and stern features marked him as a protector and a vigilant guardian. He regularly scanned the group with his eyes, checking each member’s preparedness and watching the trail for any signs of danger up ahead. He kept his hand on his sword’s hilt, ready to defend the group if danger threatened their advance.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWf3JlIOmpF
Aragorn paused at the threshold and cast one final look back at Rivendell, absorbing its tranquil beauty. Morning light shimmered across the courtyard, and delicate carvings of leaves and vines glowed with peace. The scent of blossoming gardens mingled with the gentle murmur of distant streams, filling the air with bittersweet serenity. He slowly took in the familiar scene, his eyes following the terraces and ancient trees as their golden leaves whispered in the breeze. Each detail stirred memories of laughter, counsel, and quiet solace beneath the sheltering boughs. 35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ04wFwyBK8s
At last, he fixed his gaze on Arwen, who stood beneath a wide archway. Her dark hair caught the light, casting a silver glow. In a moment brimming with emotion, they exchanged a silent understanding—an unspoken exchange of feelings passing between them without words. They expressed all their longing in that instant: love, pain, and hope for a reunion beyond the darkness. Aragorn gave her a solemn nod, and in that silent farewell, he recognised the loss of home and comfort and the sacrifices they both would make for a world that still needed saving.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBj3COwi2Ln
Arwen watched Aragorn turn and follow the rest of the Fellowship through the arched gate, overwhelmed by her emotions. Tears welled up in her eyes, reflecting the pain of their goodbye. The golden morning light and the fragrant Rivendell gardens faded into the background as her heart ached with longing, making the world around her shrink and blur. She clutched the marble archway with her slender fingers, trying to steady herself and maintain her composure, but her sorrow overpowered her. As Aragorn disappeared through the gates, she bowed her head in grief.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEG5veKu1lI
For a moment, she felt as if time had frozen. Her overwhelming emotions muffled the faint echoes of the departing Fellowship, making them sound distant. With each heartbeat, she relived the bittersweet memories of their shared moments—stolen glances, whispered promises, and his warm embrace. Her gown’s soft fabric brushed her skin, but the cool stone beneath her hand offered little comfort. A tear slipped down her cheek, caught the sunlight, and shimmered like a delicate jewel—symbolising the deep love and sacrifice that bound her to Aragorn, even though duty and fate now separated them.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCaFvJImBoc
Legolas gently took Hermione’s hand as the Fellowship ascended the steep, winding trail that led out of Rivendell’s valley. Moss-covered stones lined the route, and soft sunlight streamed through old, golden-tipped branches, creating a spiral path upward between tall cliffs that carried the lingering fragrance of last season’s Elven gardens. Hermione gazed at him with interest, her breath catching in the crisp morning air as she wondered why he had paused. The others quickly advanced, their footsteps fading into the quiet forest, leaving Legolas and Hermione alone amidst the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant, melodic echoes of a Rivendell song drifting on the breeze.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeY2dmGu7OR
Legolas paused briefly and gazed at Hermione before he reached into his bag and pulled out a neatly wrapped package. He offered it to her with a gentle smile and softly said, ‘I have a gift for you.’ He carefully unwrapped the cloth, revealing a pair of beautifully crafted bracer gloves. Designed smaller and more delicate to fit Hermione’s hands, the gloves displayed elegant leaf motifs and flowing silver embroidery similar to Legolas’s own. Crafted from supple leather dyed a deep forest green, they shimmered subtly as they caught the light, with hints of gold and silver threading along the seams. Intricate Elven knotwork reinforced the edges, combining beauty with subtle strength. The soft velvet interior promised comfort, while the exterior showcased Rivendell’s exquisite craftsmanship—both functional and graceful. Hermione gazed at them in awe, noticing the delicate runes etched on the wrist, their meanings known only to Elvenkind.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1HX90lugDt
‘In case you have need of your bow,’ Legolas said softly, his tone calm and contemplative. He took Hermione’s hands gently, his skilled fingers steady, as he carefully slid the bracer gloves onto her wrists. The soft leather, cool and smooth at first, quickly warmed against her skin. Legolas fastened the straps with practised accuracy, ensuring the gloves fit her hands snugly yet comfortably, neither too tight nor loose. Once secured, the gloves fit her perfectly, providing solid protection and a reassuring, flexible grip for her bow.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6ibxanvGGV
Hermione smiled gratefully at Legolas’s kindness and softly said, ‘Thank you.’ She brushed her delicate fingers over the fine embroidery on her new bracer gloves and then adjusted her bow’s strap, settling its weight comfortably across her back. With her quiver of arrows—each fletched with subtle Elven flourishes—secured against her shoulder, she carried the symbol of her growing skill in archery. The hours she had spent practising beneath the gold-tipped boughs had strengthened her skills and bolstered her confidence; she recalled Legolas’s gentle corrections and steady encouragement, his calm voice guiding her through each stance and shot, turning her uncertainty into certainty. 35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMmPSTioGcD
The spells Gandalf had recently taught her flickered at the edge of her memory, each acting as a protective talisman infused with the wisdom of ancient magic. With her wand kept within easy reach, Hermione felt secure, knowing she could face danger armed with her bow and powerful magic—the combination of Elven craftsmanship, refined skill, and arcane knowledge instilled a calm readiness in her.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUZ17wv9Tl6
In addition to her bow and magic, Hermione carried two beautifully crafted daggers that Rivendell’s Elves had made, securely storing them in her beaded bag. The blades shimmered with steel, featuring intricate leaf patterns and faintly glowing Elven runes. Soft green leather wrapped around their hilts, and tiny emerald cabochons adorned the pommels, sparkling whenever light touched them. The daggers balanced perfectly in her grip, feeling like natural extensions of her hands—quick, precise, yet delicate. Legolas personally taught her the basics of blade work, focusing on defensive techniques. With his patient guidance, Hermione learned to anticipate attacks, parry, and redirect strikes gracefully and employ Elven footwork. Hermione had decided to use the daggers only as a last resort, ready to defend herself in close combat when escape seemed impossible.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLbyv2sEPXx
Legolas hesitated, then presented another carefully wrapped package. He softly said, ‘I also had this made for you,’ and unwrapped it to reveal an emerald cloak. The fabric shimmered in the light, captivating Hermione with its subtle glow. When Hermione reached out, her fingertips brushed the cloak’s surface, and she noticed its extraordinary softness and supple texture—a weave so fine it felt almost weightless, yet it remained surprisingly warm. Every thread seemed spun from the heart of the forest, its deep green hue accented by flecks of gold and silver that caught the sunlight and danced across the fabric. Delicate Elven embroidery adorned the cloak’s edge: tiny leaf and vine motifs stitched in silver filigree traced the hem and hood, adding elegance and practicality. On closer inspection, Hermione discovered faint runes woven into the lining, their shimmer hinting at protective enchantments crafted by Rivendell’s skilled artisans. The clasp at the neck took the shape of an unfurling leaf, fashioned from polished mithril and set with a single shining emerald, symbolising the cloak’s origin and purpose. Hermione scrutinised the cloak, furrowing her brow as she wondered what made it so special—sensing, even before Legolas spoke, that it was no ordinary garment, but a treasured piece created with care, skill, and magic.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDTVnqFz8wp
Legolas met her gaze with a serious expression and gently explained, ‘It has been imbued with Elven magic to shield against wind and rain. It will also guide you to target critical areas on your enemies when using your bow.’ Legolas lifted the cloak with careful, almost reverent hands and draped it over Hermione’s shoulders, fastening the clasp himself. The fabric, whisper-soft and cool, settled in graceful folds around her. A soothing warmth spread across her back and chest as soon as the emerald cloak touched her. It resembled a powerful warming charm but felt even deeper—like a gentle embrace from the ancient forest35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEN0IJWMJc6
Hermione gave Legolas a gentle smile, her cheeks blushing, and softly said, ‘Thank you, Legolas. It’s beautiful,’ expressing her gratitude as she gazed at him. 35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIvmTYTtIbd
As their eyes met, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them. The quiet within the ancient forest deepened, golden sunlight caught in Legolas’s silvery hair and shone warmly on Hermione’s face. Drawn together by a silent, mutual connection, they instinctively moved closer. Hermione’s heart fluttered with excitement and doubt, each beat echoing their tension. Legolas’s face softened, and his eyes reflected wisdom and delicate tenderness, as if he saw more than just a friend—possibly a kindred spirit. The scent of moss and distant blooms mingled with their growing anticipation, and when Legolas briefly touched Hermione’s arm, a wave of warmth washed over her. Surrounded by Rivendell’s natural beauty in this quiet corner, time seemed to pause as they observed their fragile, budding bond—an unspoken vow of trust, comfort, and perhaps something more.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJhsWS23pnj
Draco suddenly broke the quiet surrounding Legolas and Hermione by letting his voice resonate along the path. He called out mischievously—‘OI! Get a room!’—his words cutting through the silence like a pebble skimming a still pond. Standing beside Harry, he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, a teasing sparkle lighting up his eyes. The loud, playful call startled a nearby thrush, which fluttered up into the leafy branches above from its perch. Harry followed Draco, furrowing his brows and showing a hint of concern as he shifted his gaze between Hermione and the Elven Prince.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxGXdZA04ka
Legolas reacted almost immediately, as if an invisible force compelled him to pull away from Hermione. He stepped back quickly and gracefully, his emerald cloak catching the light and flaring slightly. A brief, guarded look crossed his face—he concealed his once-open, gentle eyes behind an expression of Elven composure, his tense jaw hinting at inner conflict. Uncertainty flickered in his gaze momentarily as he balanced unspoken feelings with duty. He gave Hermione a respectful nod, a formal gesture filled with unspoken meaning—a silent promise. 35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHbV25Q6mO6
Without speaking, Legolas turned and walked away swiftly, his footsteps light on the soft forest floor. He hurried to catch up with the Fellowship, and the sway of his cloak and the firm set of his shoulders revealed his resolve blended with regret. When he reached them, Legolas quietly engaged Gandalf in a hushed conversation. He kept his voice low and his manner serious, showing earnestness as he leaned in and conferred with Gandalf in whispers that barely disturbed the peaceful woods. Clearly, Legolas sought counsel or reassurance from the wise wizard, showing respect in his posture and speaking with measured words, maintaining privacy amid their journey, laden with unspoken meaning.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlLwbsJxNBk
Hermione stood rooted to the spot, doubt filling her as she watched Legolas swiftly approach Gandalf at the front, never giving her another glance. The forest’s hush grew more intense around her, each birdsong and rustling leaf mirroring her inner emptiness. A chilly breeze tugged at the edges of her cloak, but even that couldn’t cool the warmth lingering on her skin from Legolas’s recent touch on her arm. Her confusion showed in her expression, her brows furrowing as she replayed the brief encounter in her mind, searching for the meaning behind every look and gentle gesture.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡb7IoaZbtSp
Doubt clouded her mind, leading her to question whether she had truly experienced or imagined that moment. She remembered every detail vividly, yet they slipped away like a dream. The warmth from his gaze still burned on her cheeks, and a strange ache—part longing, part embarrassment—tightened her chest. She persuaded herself that someone like him—a Prince, noble and timeless, carrying centuries of wisdom—would never possibly be interested in her, an ordinary mortal witch out of place and time.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1SajglDGfB
Even as she tried to dismiss the notion, the feeling lingered—Legolas had nearly kissed her. The electric energy between them warped time, and she remembered that brief closeness vividly, her hurried thoughts sparking with questions and possibilities. She wondered if Rivendell’s magic conjured illusions and hopes that were not real, or if she had glimpsed a deeper truth hidden in the forest’s golden glow—a silent vow they shared in the pause between two hesitant souls.35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRiXW0Hm9be
Hermione quickened her pace after Harry and Draco, her steps uneven as she tried to steady herself and put some distance between herself and her bewildering encounter with Legolas. Her heart beat rapidly, and her chest tightened with hope, embarrassment, and longing. As she moved beneath the arching branches, the world around her glared with painful brightness but felt oddly insubstantial, as if she wandered through a vivid dream. She pressed a trembling hand to her cheeks, feeling the lingering warmth of her blush, and focused intently on the soft crunch of leaves beneath her feet, her friends’ distant laughter, and her cloak’s warm embrace. Still, doubt clung to her thoughts like a stubborn morning mist, swirling persistently. The memory of Legolas’s gentle touch and the warmth in his eyes when they met haunted her, leaving her to wonder whether he honestly shared her feelings or if it was merely a fleeting illusion conjured by a heart overcome with emotion.
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