Disclaimer: Anything you see here even remotely familiar, belongs to
J.R.R.Tolkien and New Line Cinema. The only thing I own is the revamped version of the plot, so please do not sue.
Author’s Notes: Arwen is also in the fellowship (the title, duh!) and the story begins at Durin’s Doors and finishes at Lothlórien. The words in the mini glossaries are to help you understand the words marked with a star. For example, some of them might be old-fashioned or literary words that are antiquated or they might be in Elvish.
Summary: The fellowship of the ring encounters difficulties along the way. Arwen gets injured, Aragorn goes all TLC and I’m not going to blabber any more information. Mostly the story is [MOVIE-BASED]
Distribution: I will be absolutely flattered if you want it, so just drop in
a note and let me know.
Feedback: Pretty please with cookie-dough-fudge-mint-chip ice cream on top.
“The walls of Moria!” murmured Gimli, walking ahead with Gandalf alongside the shore of the lake. The others plodded on slightly behind them. While gazing at the walls, Frodo accidentally stepped into the lake but he jerked his foot immediately out of the icy, murky and inky water. He did not like the looks of it. When they reached the doors of Durin, they halted. The ominous cloud blocking the star and moon light, rolled across the sky so that the light shone upon the doors, revealing the intricate emblems of Durin and the Calaquendi*, after Gandalf had muttered a few words and moved his hands over the stone.
“The Doors of Durin- Lord of Moria. Speak friend and enter,” he said,
reading aloud the ancient Fëanorian letters inscribed on the archway.
“What do you suppose that means?” Merry inquired with his usual insatiable curiosity. “Well, its quite simple. If you’re a friend, you speak the password and the doors will open,” Gandalf explained airily.
After quite a few impressive attempts, in various languages and tone
steadily increasing in decibel with every attempt, Gandalf finally accepted defeat by sighing, ”Oh, its useless!” and plonking down on a rock.
In the meantime, Aragorn and Sam were setting the palfrey free.
“The mines are no place for a pony; Even one so brave as this,” Aragorn declared with regret, removing Bill’s saddle, bridle and girth, “Go on. Don’t hurt yourself.”
“Bye-bye, Bill,” sighed Sam, sorrow and reluctance etched in his
Having done that, the future king of Gondor, walked towards his betrothed and joined her on a boulder, while they waited for Gandalf to think of a solution. The dúnadan wore ornate, fastidiously tailored raiment of claret* and argent* with sable* mail and a mantle that was fastened at the throat with a beryl* jewel. He turned to Arwen, slipping his arm around her waist, offering her his shoulder to rest her head on. She gratefully accepted and laid her crown of burnished dark auburn curls snugly in the curve of his arm and chest, closing her eyes. They were all exhausted from their failed battle with the climbing of the cruel mountain Caradhras and the long journey without rest to finally reach Moria. His Lady, the Evenstar of her people, was a regal and ravishing vision of pulchritude: with her magnolia skin like the most fragile porcelain, exquisitely sculpted features and sparkling sapphire-blue eyes. Arwen’s petite frame was clad in an ivory, silk chemise* and a charming, opulent, cerulean velvet travelling raiment. It had a feather-light layer of midnight-blue gossamer that was spangled with glittering silver flecks and tiny iridescent gemstones; a square-cut, tight-fitting bodice, wide bell sleeves that was trimmed with rich azure satin and a matching band of cobalt adorned the hemline. An ebony cloak
graced her shoulders and was clasped with a gleaming quamarine* jewel.
Elfstone was brought out of his love-stricken stupor by two loud splashes of water and reeled around to see that Meriadoc Brandybuck was throwing pebbles and Pippin was about to do so as well. He was instantly alert and halted Pippin before the Hobbit could throw the stone.
“Do not disturb the water,” Aragorn warned Pippin.
Legolas, Boromir, Aragorn and Arwen looked on as the ripples, caused by the Hobbits’ carelessness, moved across the surface of the lake, turned into larger waves that were already lapping on the shore.
*Calaquendi – High Elves
*claret – red
*argent – silver
*sable – black
*beryl – pale-green stone
*chemise – a form of undergarment
*aquamarine – pale-blue stone
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.