The Valley of Imladris

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You wandered aimlessly in the darkness, unafraid and content to be so. The occasional familiar image would present itself through your thoughts. Memories of joy and of pain... Of home. Childhood fantasies and days with old friends raced across your path in the dark. Even the times where it seemed the whole world had turned against you. Those memories were much duller, much colder... Then a more recent memory fluttered by. A day in late July where you sat under a great oak overlooking emerald grasses and bright blue skies. Frodo sat beside you, teaching you an old song that Bilbo had sung quite often in his daydreams.

It was interrupted fairly suddenly by a growing white light that washed all other thoughts from your mind and replaced it with a throbbing inside your head. Your body was drowned out in it as your mind flew back to rest in your sleeping form. The sound of distant waters and cheery birds reached your ears, and you moaned slightly in annoyance, "Where am I?"

"You are in the house of Elrond, in the valley of Imladris." A familiar voice answered back as your eyes adjusted to the light. Beside you was Aragorn, leaning back in a chair with his feet propped up on the edge of the bed. When he saw your eyes squint to figure out where you were he pulled his feet back to lean against his knees.

Once you found your vision, you smiled brightly at his presence, "Aragorn!"

"Hello, ____." He returned it with a slight grin. It was always hard to get a giant smile out of him, in which you promised to yourself to get one someday.

Looking about, your jaw dropped slightly at the room you were in. Washed in ivory and gold colors, intricate pillars covered in vines traveled up the walls and gave a view of the quiet woodland surrounding you. Your bed was soft and white, and even your tattered clothes had been replaced by soft silver garments. A dull ache in your arm caught your attention to your wound, "W-what happened? I blacked out and..."

"Your fever had taken a strong hold and I couldn't wake you, so we brought you here as fast as we could... Thankfully it wasn't too severe." He answered, gestured to your wound.

Feeling your arm, you smiled, "Thank you, Aragorn. For everything."

He nodded in a small smile, satisfied that everything had turned out alright for you, "If you're feeling well enough, I think there are a few people who would like to see you." Standing, he gave you his hand to help you out of bed and guide you towards a door entering another room.

Immediately your face lit up with a giant smile at the grey pilgrim sitting before you, "Gandalf, you're here! Frodo!" Your eyes caught sight of your friend sitting up and alert in bed. His eyes were clear and bright, and his skin no longer pale. You flew over to his side to embrace him warmly, "You're alive!... Oh, I'm so sorry, Frodo!" You apologized over and over remembering those terrible nights around Weathertop.

Frodo shook his head with a smile as he took your hands in his, "I know, ____... I'm just glad you're alright."

You nodded, "So am I... about you I mean."

Joyful laughter was inevitable, and it cleansed your heart and mind knowing you were finally safe. After a brief pause, Frodo asked an important question, echoing the very thoughts that were running through your mind, "What happened, Gandalf? Why didn't you meet us?"

The wizard sighed, "Oh, I am sorry, Frodo..." He paused, looking a bit distressed, and tried to find the right words to explain his absence, "I was delayed. The friendship of Saruman is not lightly thrown aside..." He stopped there, his mind seeming to wander in his memories.

You could tell something didn't go well, "Gandalf? What is it?"

Regaining his composure, he gave you a reassuring smile, "...nothing..."

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