May it Be | THE LORD OF THE RINGS 🖋

.6. Rivendell

Strider's POV

Merry, Pippin and Sam had worried all the way from the trolls to Rivendell. They had constantly asked me questions as if I knew what the future held. Will Frodo die? Is he safe with the Elf? Would they have gotten to Rivendell in time? Will Deirdre be okay?

I didn't like not having the answers they wished but I did sympathized with their worry for their friend. Deirdre and Arwen had ridden out into danger and I didn't even know if they were alive or not.

Deirdre...Arwen had called her Naerwen. 

Sad one, I thought to myself. In a way the meaning of her name did suit her as even when she smiled at the hobbits, a touch of sadness always lingered in her eyes.

Arwen had told me about Naerwen once during one of my many stays at Rivendell. She had spoken fondly of the girl, claiming to have a sisterly relationship with her. So, if she was Naerwen why did she tell the hobbits and I that her name was Deirdre?

I had been surprised by Arwen's sudden arrival during Frodo's greatest hour of need. I had not seen or spoken to her since my last visit to Rivendell, which had been many months before Gandalf had asked me to travel to Bree and await Frodo Baggins.

We had not parted on completely good terms; I knew where her path would lead her in the coming months, and it was not to a long and happy life by my side.

When I saw her kneeling opposite Deirdre I was struck by their likeness. Their hair hung almost to the same length, Deirdre's hair looking slightly longer, and where Arwen had very dark brown hair Deirdre's was as black as midnight. Both were fair in skin and in nature, yet Deirdre had a sense of danger about her. Arwen's eyes were as blue as the ocean where Deirdre's were a warm golden colour. Of course the main difference was that Arwen was an Elf, so, what was Deirdre?

She looked human but she had a slight way about her that made one think, a first glace, that she was of the Elves. Arwen had told me that she had been dear friends with Naerwen for nearly half a decade; if Deirdre was truly Naerwen then she would have to be over fifty years old. Was she a lost member of the Dúnedain?

These questions and more had plagued my mind until at last we had reached Rivendell. Lord Elrond greeted us before showing us where to rest, bathe and change before seeing Frodo.

I thanked him and lead the hobbits to their rooms.

Being clean and wearing fresh clothes felt good after so many days on the road. Frodo had slept for many days as he healed, allowing the rest of us to also rest.

When it finally came that Frodo had regained consciousness, I quickly made my way to see him. I had also hoped that Deirdre might have been their as she had avoided everyone since arriving.

Finding Frodo's room was no hard task as I saw Sam rush to a particular door in hopes of seeing his friend alive and well. 

'Bless you, you're awake!' He said running to Frodo's side causing the newly awaken hobbit to laugh at his friend.

'Sam has hardly left your side,' I heard a deep voice say.

'We were that worried about you, weren't we, Mister Gandalf?' Sam replied.

Gandalf?  Was he truly here?

'By the skills of Lord Elrond, you're beginning to mend.' The voice I presumed to be Gandalf said. He did sound remarkably similar to the old wizard but yet more tired and aged.

Lord Elrond entered the room before me, 'Welcome to Rivendell, Frodo Baggins.'

I followed and saw Frodo smile up at me. Surly enough, Gandalf the Grey was sitting beside the hobbit's bed.