When I reached Rivendell, my eyes wondered over the autumnal treetops, astonished by the beauty of the glen. The waters of the Bruinen sang to me of faraway places, whilst the birds echoed it with poems of Arda. I spurred my mount onwards, but with no rush – it seems that time had a pace of its own there. I was not challenged by any of the elf guards, and to this day I wonder why that was: perhaps they could see that my intentions were not evil, or maybe, in his wisdom, Elrond had foreseen my coming.
As I reached his dwelling, an elf greeted me, taking my horse away, but not before showing me the main entrance. ‘Welcome to the Last Homely House,’ he said to me.
To my surprise, I was asked to join Master Elrond and his visitor in the library on the second floor. ‘How could he know I would be here,’ I kept asking myself, as I climbed the delicate staircase within. Alas, the mystery was soon revealed to me, when I saw who the visitor was.
Very few people can walk through Middle-earth without knowledge of the Grey Pilgrim. I myself heard of him many times during my adventures. They say he’s an Istari, and that his wisdom is of old. His presence in this world was willed by the Valar themselves, and for that reason, he is in the council of Elrond, Celeborn and Galadriel. Now you may understand my surprise as I walked into the room, in the presence of Elrond and Gandalf.
‘Come child,’ said Elrond, inviting me to sit. ‘We were waiting for you.’
I bowed low before taking my place, unable to find words.
‘You are weary from your journey, and your cares show deeply on your far too young face,’ he said. ‘ She whom you seek is alive and well, although far from this part of the land.’
‘Freawyin?’ I cried, filled by sudden hope.
‘Indeed,’ he answered, kindly. ‘But your paths will not meet for a long while yet.’
‘Your road lies elsewhere,’ added Gandalf.
‘But what could be more important than my own blood?’ I asked, barely curbing my frustration.
‘Your king needs your help,’ answered the wizard, solemnly.
‘My king?’
‘The true heir of Gondor shall soon return, but much work is needed to make that happen. Will you not rise for your King?’
I looked at him, and my internal fight must have shown clearly, because Gandalf put his hand on my shoulder, and his voice became more familiar to my senses.
‘You will find Freawyin, before this era is over. But not as its own pursuit. I will entrust you with a much greater task, and in your labors, your sister’s path and yours will cross.’
‘Do I have your word?’ I said, slightly more trusting.
‘You have both our words,’ answered Master Elrond.
As my thoughts turned to Iluvatar for guidance, I was compelled to accept.
