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jurjenkvanderhoek · 2 years

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TERGUS, EEN DISSOCIATIEVE IDENTITEITSSTOORNIS?

Op de letter is het een flinterdun verhaal, breedvoerig opgeblazen. Zo zodat de lezer, wie dan ook, zich er in en zichzelf kan vinden. Hoewel daar wel enige moeite voor moet worden gedaan. Het schrale gegeven betreft de herinnering. Het terug denken aan een verloren liefde. Want hebben wij niet allen zo een ervaring in het verleden. Dat je iemand ziet of treft waar een dusdanige aantrekkingskracht vanuit gaat dat je er een heel leven aan blijft kleven, figuurlijk gesproken. Daarbij is het verhaal grondig en gedetailleerd uitgedijd met beschouwende overpeinzingen. De gedachten gaan meermalen op de loop over alles en nog wat. Maar het slaat nooit de plank mis, is nergens geneuzel. Het maakt het verhaal zo dik als een deur naar toen, in nu en op de toekomst.

De hoofdpersoon in het verhaal van dichter, denker en kunstenaar Adrie Krijgsman, Tergus, heeft een dergelijke herinneringsbeleving. Met die heugenis probeert hij na jaren, als man op leeftijd, een kalverliefde opnieuw in zijn leven te brengen. De penvriendin diept hij op uit een stapel zorgvuldig bewaarde brieven, omdat hij op internet eenzelfde naam aantreft. Déjà vu. De dames, twee of één dat maakt Adrie niet volstrekt duidelijk, volgen samen een parallel spoor door zijn leven van nu, vanuit het verleden naar de toekomst, en zullen op de einder in een verdwijnpunt samen komen. Maar voor het zover is onderzoekt Tergus zijn herinneringen van gisteren in de gedachten van vandaag.

De vertelling van de dame en de heer kent vele omwegen en zijsporen. Krijgsman schrijft niet voor de luie, gemakzuchtige lezer lees ik ergens in het boek. Wanneer ik een makkelijk liefdesverhaal wil lezen pak ik er maar een doktersroman bij. Deze roman over de man Tergus is een boek voor elke dwaas die een vage jeugdliefde najaagt. Ik voel me aangesproken en met mij zovele meer, vermoed ik. Want zo’n vage jeugdliefde verschijnt uit de herinnering met het klimmen van de jaren. Het leven overziend, terugkijkend, is hij of zij daar plotseling weer en blijft in gedachten rondspoken.

Het verhaal gaat bij Neck om naar Den Haag, ofwel mijl op zeven. De gedachten gaan nogal heen en weer. De oplettende lezer zal thema’s terug ‘horen’ komen. Soms blader ik terug, omdat ik dan denk hoe zat het ook alweer, wie was dat dan, wat gebeurde daar toen en daar. Krijgsman merkt zelf op dat het geen lineaire roman is en dat er geen strikt chronologische volgorde inzit. “De tekst is springerig en danst met de allure van een turnster tijdens de vrije oefening.” En ik dans mee en kom een keur aan van alles tegen. Het heet een psycho-filosofisch verhaal te zijn. Maar niet hoogdravend en zeker niet in vaktaal geschreven. Het leest makkelijk weg, hoewel de gedachten amper kunnen afdwalen. Krijgsman houdt de lezer eenvoudigweg bij de les, door verleden en heden af te wisselen met de toekomst. Actuele zaken waartegen hij getergd aanschopt, dat kan op een afstandje als Tergus.

Krijgsman eigent zich mijn gedachten toe, zo zodat ik in zijn spoor wordt meegesleept het verhaal in. Tergus laat me niet los. Hij reageert al nadenkend en peinzend op het eigen zijn en daar zet hij dan de opborrelende hersenspinsels en gedachtenkronkels tegenaan. Want hoe vergaat dat mijzelf bij enige handelingen en activiteiten, meestal altijd heb ik daar wel overdenkingen en bespiegelingen bij. Heb ik er goed aan gedaan of had ik beter zus en zo. Het zijn moet overdacht voordat het leven er vat op krijgt. Ga ik ervan uit dat schrijver en hoofdfiguur een en dezelfde persoon zijn, kan Krijgsman naast de schoenen van Tergus staan en zichzelf bekritiseren. En op de hak nemen in de vorm van der Sprechhund, een vervelende blaffer die al bijtend in de kantlijn acteert en relativeert. Waar kom ik deze drie-eenheid meer tegen. Adrie als de vader, Tergus als de zoon en de hond als geest. Maar wanneer Tergus dan bij de schrijver op de koffie komt sta ik weer zoals vaker in het verhaal op een verkeerd been. Is er sprake van een dissociatieve identiteitsstoornis. Alles kan op papier.

Door het boek heen namelijk dringt bij mij de gedachte zich op dat Adrie Krijgsman met zijn boek Tergus een autobiografie heeft geschreven. Dat het zijn verhaal is, dat hijzelf die Tergus is. De getergde ziel die maar niet de herinnering op de rit kan krijgen. Steeds gaat hij ten onder in zijn eigen verhaal, maar telkens weer komt hij uit zijn eigen woordgolven naar boven. Hij vist verder dan de zee naar het schier onmogelijke. En ergens went de camera zich van de set af naar de regisseur, die zijn script duidt. Op een filosofisch bedenkelijke manier omschrijft Krijgsman zijn hoofdpersoon, het hoe en waarom hij daarvan en omheen zijn verhaal zet. Het nut van zijn roman. Maar heeft een verhaal een reden nodig, is er anders geen redden meer aan?

"Het is onduidelijk welke koers mijn denkrichting zal gaan volgen, of wat mijn motieven zijn..." De schrijver is zijn eigen keurmeester. Hij rafelt zijn schrijven, scheurt het uiteen om zichzelf voor zichzelf te kunnen uitleggen. Van de strijd om het verhaal te duiden is de lezer getuige. De hersenspinsels worden verantwoord. Als in een film die van de hak op de tak gaat en de kijker in verwarring brengt. De lezer van de roman moet wennen aan de commentaren die de schrijver op zijn eigen schrijven heeft. Van alle kanten wordt de schrijver becommentarieerd. Maar steeds is het de schrijver die deze getergde en kritische figuren podium geeft en in het verhaal invoert. Het is alsof hijzelf zichzelf terecht wijst. Aan zelfkritiek doet in de andere hoedanigheden. Het lijdt regelmatig van het verhaal af de filosofische bodemloze put in. Het houdt het verhaal op, maar maakt ook veel duidelijk.

De schrijver stelt zichzelf vragen en direct ook aan de lezer. Zo ga ik wel meer met aandacht om met het verhaal, omdat ik denk dat mijn visie waardevol is in de loop. Maar het zijn retorische vragen en het verhaal is verre van interactief. Ik heb geen vat op het beloop, ik kan niet een andere weg inslaan want de schrijver heeft al, hoewel hij daar zelf minder zeker van is, de richting bepaald. Krijgsman heeft een speelse geest, een filosofische trant van schrijven. Hij houwt de woorden op het papier zodat ze levende beelden worden. Hij is een lyrisch schrijver, die uiterst gedetailleerd de omgeving en de overdenkingen beschrijft. Met een stijlvolle uitdrukkingsvaardigheid, van zo'n intieme intensiteit dat het voor een liefhebber van taal, van mooie poëtische taal, alleen al daardoor de moeite waard is om ze te lezen. Hoewel het lijkt alsof de woorden hem gemakkelijk uit de pen vloeien, weegt hij ieder woord en elke zin zodat de regels diep overdacht met inhoud op papier staan. Het vergt voor de lezer aandacht om niet van het padje te raken en te tuimelen in het ravijn van de standaard roman. Zo standaard is deze roman niet, geen liefdesgeschiedenis van 13 in een dozijn. Of het zou het strelen van het eigen ego moeten zijn. Krijgsman zit in Tergus, maar door het verhaal in derde persoon te stellen kan hij het van zich af schrijven en hier en daar van commentaar voorzien waarbij een duiveltje nog eens ongezouten daar weer op reageert. Het vlecht zich welhaast onontwarbaar in elkaar, zie daar als lezer maar eens een touw aan vast te knopen.

Mengt zich al eerder het sprookje van Roodkapje en de Wolf zich in de tekst, aan het slot komt deze mare terug en vallen alle lekkernijen op de plaats. Hier blader ik weer terug om herinneringen op te halen. Weet ik nog wat ik gelezen heb, met aandacht. Want hoe zat dat met grootmoeder, waarvan de resten in de tuin worden gevonden. Wie is de wolf, is dat die keffende criticaster of was het Tergus zelf. Want dat keffertje raadde eerder de schrijver aan dat omaatje uit het verhaal te schrijven, wat deed die oude vrouw ertoe namelijk. Kill your darlings.

Tergus. Roman van Adrie Krijgsman. Uitgegeven bij Brave New Books, 2022.

#adrie krijgsman #tergus #roman #literatuur #proza #brave new books

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sardies · 1 year

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Domenica 8 ottobre Tergu ospita il Festival Gal

La cattedrale di Nostra Signora di Tergu Tergu. Il Gal Anglona Coros, che racchiude 17 paesi, sei del Coros e 11 dell’Anglona, con lo scopo di attrarre l’attenzione su un territorio ricchissimo di arte, storia e folklore, ha ideato la giornata identitaria #Festivalgal, in programma domenica 8 ottobre. Cibo, natura, storia, archeologia, natura. Cinque motivi per vivere un territorio di cerniera…

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#Tergu

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cerberusthenking3 · 5 months

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A Flower to be Seen Not Heard

No image,which is rare,but this is an OC from my own creative universe so no art

It's much darker than my usual stuff but not to a huge extent

Warning:Soft,safe vore,possessive pred,child prey,mentions of sexual and physical abuse,extreme cuddling,aftercare,darker undertones

Blossom POV.

The cart pulls to a stop as I step out of the door held open by the guards sent to watch over my arrival.I step out as one guard says,"Hello ma'am,Lord Tergu is very excited for you're arrival"I nod and say"Let us go then,mortal"I look up and notice in the crowd that there is a young female human wearing some sort of dog collar,she staring at me with wide eyes and I notice a larger male human has a sort of leash in hand and watch as he pulls it and thus the child away from the guards and into the crowd.I raise a finger as a single flower petal flies towards the child before touching her arm and fusing into her skin,what I have just seen is concerning but I need to speak to Tergu first.I turn to the guard and follow him through the streets to his palace,arriving at the large building in under five minutes and I look up with a blank expression which quickly shifts into a warm smile as I see a young man run out of the palace door and stops infront of me before saying"Blossom my friend,how are you?"I smile softly and say,"I'm good,Tergu,you?"He waves the guards at the door aside as he walks me in while saying,"I'm good,I hope the journey wasn't too stressful."I look over to him and say,"Not at all,and I'm sorry if I sound distracted,I saw something concerning during my arrival."He looks over with a worried galnce before saying,"What is it,I have noticed your distaction?"I respond by saying,"A young child with a collar,and a grown man dragging her around like a pet."I notice the look of horror on his face before he responds with"Before we took this city,I visited once and noticed that the Lord,Hamuisis I believe,dragged around the woman he took as prizes like that,his nobles followed the same standard"I look up thoughfully and say"Could that man be a noble who escaped your.....judgement?"He raises his hand up to his face,and I notice that his claws are showing and starts biting his first claw.I look up and say,"It could be nothing,but we should still go and make sure that the kid is okay,obviously I placed a petal on her,just to make sure we can find her if something is wrong"He nods and walks out of the room and after about twenty minutes he walks in with a group of soldiers who all seem to be ready hunt if the man gets away.I close my eyes and focus on the petals location and step forwards as I discard my main kimono and am left in only my light armor and a decent t-shirt and shorts.Tails flick out from my tailbone as I reveal the vulpine form of my birth before leaping out of the window with them following out through the door.

Rose POV.

I lay on the cold,tough earth as I hear my master and his friends laughing inside of the nearby building.My hand slips off the new bruses on my chest from being slammed into the table and up to the tight leather collar and try to pull it off without any success.I sigh and lay back down before hearing a soft growl behind me and turn to see a large peach and white colored fox,it's fur has a wierd patchy look to it with blotches of peach fur and a main base of white fur.I murmer slightly as I look at the beautiful fox and try to convince it to come over so I can pet it when I hear a mans voice speak softly"Are you okay kid?"My eyes flick to the side as I see a man in weird shiny armor with a sort of crown on his head with the visage of a dragon wrapping around the midsection of a fox.....no kitsune with a splattered gold and silver body.I look over at the fox again without thinking and notice that it has nine long tails fluttering back and forth behind it and nervously respond to the man"I-I'm f-fine sir,m-master will let me in after his friends leave"The fox approaches me and it's fur melts with its body and I watch as it shrinks down into the beautiful woman who had arrived in the expensive carriage earlier that master made a lewd comment about before taking me home to take his frustration out on me,luckily only hitting me.She reaches towards me and says softly"That doesn't answer the question he asked,Are you okay"I stare blankely at her and say"Yes ma'am,I'm okay,why?"She leans down and pushes my kimono to the side and lets out a horrified gasp before turning to the soldiers and saying"Go in,she's hurt and from the smell in the air,we're correct"The soldiers rush past me and the man with uer approaches masters home before banging on the door loudly and yelling"ANY PERSON WITHIN THIS BUILDING MUST EXIT IN UNDER TEN SECONDS,ELSE I WILL SEND MY SOLDIERS INSIDE AND THEY WILL TAKE NO PRISONERS!"And after a few seconds,master and his friends come rushing out of the door as a few of the soldiers burst in while he and most of the soldiers stay outside to watch them.

Blossom POV.

I hold the human carefully as I glare at the grown men who are knocked to the ground as the house is torn apart for any stragglers.The largest man,who was with the kid,is glaring daggers at the child as I summon my tails to hide her from his gaze as I smile at the look of horror on his face which morphs to disgust as he realizes what I am.Usually I wouldn't show my tails off to random humans but scaring the shit out of an asshole with the added bonus of the little kid seemingly enjoying looking at them.I look down and say"You may pet my tails if you'd like to,just be gentle"I see her eyes light up as she gently runs her hand through my fur and I watch her eyes sparkle in joy.I hear Tergu say"Go back to the palace Blossom,I don't want the child to see this"I look down at the kid and say"Don't worry,we'll take care of you,you're safe now"I morph back into my true form before grabbing the human by the scruff of her shirt.I leap up into the tree's and flick through them at high speed,making sure that the human is held tightly and doesn't slip of while I'm atleast two hundred feet off the ground.After a moment I arrive at the palace and slip through the window easily as I land in the guest room I usually stay in when I'm here.I lay her on the bed and carefully curl around her while allowing my tails to fall over her.She looks up and says"Why are you helping me?"In a very confused and worried tone before continuing with,"What will you wan't me to do if it's not a problem to tell me?"My tails tighten a little bit without trying to hurt her.I ask her."Whay do you expect to happen?"She looks up confusedly as I feel a scent hit my nose,It's horribly wonderful.I look down and realize that she is bleeding from an open injury on her leg,salivia begins to fill my mouth as I give a soft and tentative lick.I fucked up,I fucked up,I should not have done that,I look up at her and shakily mutter"O-ok kid,w-why dont you run out to a guard,tell him I'm locking the door and to send one of the prisoners,okay?"I nudge her to the door,but when she gets there, I feel myself slipping,and I watch in horror as she stops at the door and turns around to ask,"Are you okay,ma'am?"Too late,all I can do is not hurt her,leaping towards the child I knock her to the ground.My tail pads the fall and I stand over her as I watch her just freeze,she doesn't struggle or scream but she just lays there while breathing heavily.

Rose POV.

I stare up at the nice kitsune who just slammed me into the tile floor.She leans down and licks my face roughly,and I cough heavily,gasping for breath after her tongue leaves my face.She opens her maw and drops of heavy salivia fall onto me,fear flooding my mind and I feel my body tense up and I pull my legs and arms closer to my body and squeeze my eyes shut.Soft warmth envelopes my body and I feel something incredibly sharp slide over my back and I flinch,expecting her to bite down on me but I hear her swallow heavily.I feel a slightly tigher ring and warm wet liquid,likely salivia,slide down her throat with me as I go down the tunnel that fully engulfs my body.I slide down into a massive pouch which is glowly dimly pink and it has similar pattern of pink and white patches,while scared I feel curiosity overtaking the fear and I reach a shaky hand towards the wall and when I touch it the organ pulls my hands into the wall and lightly squeezes it.I hear her voice echo from all around me say"Curious little thing aren't you,don't worry,you're alright,my tummy won't hurt you"Her voice is much lighter and sounds almost playful,unlike her more serious and worried tone she had just a minute ago.She happily purrs as the stomach clenches and churns around me but as I thrown around I hear her clear her throat and the organ steadies around me and she talks in her normal tone with a bit of a purring undertone"Sorry,I let my instincts take control for a moment,I'll spit you out and get you some food"I sigh in relief when I feel my vision slowly darkening and I quietly ask"Is it really safe in here ma'am"I hear her respond confusedly"Yes and I'm Blossom but why?"I say,"I'm Rose,and if it's okay with you,may I sleep in here?"She stops and says,"Oh,of course,I just thought you would be scared,you may sleep,and I'll let you out tomorrow,but first,I'm going to morph back into a humanoid form,it will get much tighter,is that okay?"I curl into a tighter ball and say,"Yes ma'am,I'm used to sleeping in the cold,and the warmth in here is great,im not afraid of tight places so it's worth it"The stomach,as promised,goes much tighter and snaps around me,I quietly say"Thank you ma'am"before snuggling into the walls around me and fall into sleep.

Blossom POV.

I pull my armor back over my slightly bulging stomach and then carefully stand up as I hear the soft snoring.I grab my kimono off of the coatrack that the guards placed it on and slip into it before walking out of the room and to the hallway.I lick my lips and get the amazing orange-like flavor that Rose possessed,amazing,she's so much better than those bitter prisoners I usually use to sate my hunger.I hear a soft growling noise so I walk to where it its coming from and see Tergu walking through the door with blood all over his face and arms.I slip up to the ceiling as he walks under me,my muscles tense and he goes under me.I release the ceiling and fall straight onto the young lord,knocking him onto the ground and he yells out in suprise as I grow rapidly into my true from and open my mouth,pulling him in and licking all over his body,pulling the blood of and sending it down to my actual stomach before spitting him out in a puddle of salivia where he looks at me,gasping for breath and with a confused look.He asks"Not that I'm complaining but why did you spit me out,you usually swallow?"He looks at my stomach just as Rose moves around a bit, and his eyes widen, and he asks."Is that........"I nod and quickly shift back into a human before saying,"Don't worry,she's alright.Do you want to go in with her?"He thinks for a second before saying,"I don't think I have a choice in the matter,do I?"I shake my head and shoot towards him,quickly morphing back into a big enough form to hold them both and drag his entire body into my maw,easily engulfing the young lord and sending him down.He slides into my pouch as I adjust it around my charge and the young lord to let them both lay comfortably on the separate sides of the organ.I cuddle it around the two of them as his fingers brush against the sensitive flesh as it pulls his hand in like Rose earlier and and I start purring as I allow the organ to gently churn around them.I stand up from my blissful state and walk past quite a few confused guards but once I see the head of the guard he waves off the humans following me before holding Tergu's door open and letting me into his room.I leap onto his bed and wrap around myself,using my tails to pull the comforter over me.I softly purr as I slowly fall asleep,I was planning on finding the childs family but maybe I'll just keep her for now,I could use another human toy and cuddle pet to protect.

#soft vore #safe vore #possesive pred #child prey #extreme cuddling #tw injury #tw abuse #aftercare

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skyeet-the-writer · 2 years

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Lady of Enmond

Chapter Three: Meetings with Strangers

guys wait i'm really enjoying this, i forgot how much i loved lotr!! hope yall are enjoying it too. feel free to check out my other things as well! also feel free to leave some comments, i want to hear what yall like about this so far x.

legolas greenleaf x female!reader (dw he finally shows up)

summary: after finally arriving in rivendell, y/n is allowed one day of peace and relaxation before quickly having to jump into action the next during a council lord elrond has constructed between all races of middle earth

word count: ~5.8k

warnings: cursing, mentions of violence/weapons, mentions of death and fear-inducing things (lmk if there's anything i missed)

The days seem to blur together as the now five of you make your way to Rivendell. It's much further than you thought, though you're not familiar with these parts. Finally, you reach the Elven city on day five, exhausted and smelly.

The entire time, all of you worried of Frodo. You hope he's alright, you hope he's here, in Rivendell, healed and resting. Something says that he is alright, but still, you don't know and that's what worries you.

You've never been in an Elven city. In fact, the first Elf you've ever seen was Arwen a few days ago. Even now, walking through their beautiful city, you're still in awe of them. Immortal, ever-fair beings are all around you, and they're the ones looking at you oddly.

Aragorn has you meet with Elrond. He's just the same as you've heard in descriptions. He looks old, for an elf, but you suppose he is, as he has seen much. Aragorn tells you he plans to talk with him in private, but at least wanted you all to meet him.

You're not sure to kneel before the Elf Lord or bow or what, but Aragorn does none of these. You exchange a look with the Hobbits and shrug.

"Welcome, all, to Rivendell," says the Lord, spreading his arms wide and smiling, one that is oddly comforting. "You all must have had a long and tiresome journey, so I will not keep you long. Just--"

"Where is Frodo?" Sam demands, immediately growing red in the face from his outburst. Hastily, he stammers, "I-- Apologies, your Lordship, b--but where is our friend, Frodo?"

Elrond does not seem mad, merely amused. "Fear not, Samwise. I can assure you, your friend is safe and healthy."

Pippin perks up. "Can we see him?"

Elrond smiles again and holds a hand up. "Soon. He is resting now, we want him to wake on his own. And I assume you're hungry?"

The Hobbits exchange looks and nods. Elrond nods and waves an arm, and another Elf with blonde hair appears. "Gaelin, show these young men to their rooms. Have food prepared and baths drawn."

Quickly, the Hobbits are ushered off, now seeming in much better spirits. They talk together excitedly and seem to be buzzing with joy.

You yourself feel similar. Frodo is alright, he's here and he's resting and he's fine. And now you are here. You've completed your quest.

"I assume you would like the same, Lady Khaya?" Elrond's voice pulls your attention. He's speaking to you.

But before you can think, your say, "It's Y/N, my Lord. Khaya is an allias. I'm from the small village of Enmond in the Tergue Woods in Rohan." Then your eyes widen and you look at Aragorn. He's smiling just a little, seeming far more at ease here. "I... I don't know why I said that. I'm sorry, I just blurted that out--"

Elrond laughs lightly and holds a hand up. "Worry not, Y/N. Your secret will be safe with me. Now, I expect you request food and a bath?"

A bath sounds amazing. And fresh clothes. And strawberries. Those are your favorites. What wouldn't give to sink your teeth into one in a hot bath. "Yes, my Lord, if you would be so kind."

"Anything for Aragorn's friend. Come, Leilia will lead you." He gestures to a sweet-looking elf with braided red hair and green eyes. She smiles at you and curtsies.

You bow to Elrond just slightly at the waist. "Thank you. However, I do have a quick question?"

"Yes?"

"Do you perhaps have a raven I could use? I wish to send a message to my father, letting him know I am here. He hasn't heard from me in several days, and I do not wish for him to worry."

Elrond nods. "Yes, of course."

Aragorn says, "I'll take it."

You only trust him with it. Elrond seems kind and respectable enough, but you know Aragorn more. Reaching into your bag, you hand him a piece of paper rolled and tied with a black string. "Thank you."

He nods and you are led off by Leilia. She says nothing as she leads you around the city, to an ornate stone building. She takes you up the stairs and leads you into a large room.

Slowly, your weapons clanking, you step into the room. It's large and airy and smells of fresh grass and rainfall. The floors are made of light wood and the walls are slightly darker. There's a bed in the middle and off to one side is an entire open wall with a balcony, and silky curtains flowing in the breeze. There's another room off to the side with a chamberpot and a bath already drawn, the warm water steaming.

"What would you like to eat, my lady?"

You turn to Leilia and ask, "Do you have any strawberries?"

~*~

Not long later, you're in the bath chewing on a strawberry with your eyes shut in delight. You can't remember the last time you've felt this relaxed. A few Elf ladies asked if you needed help washing, but you politely declined. You're a grown woman, you don't want to bother them with something you could do yourself. Besides, you needed the alone time. Being around Aragorn and four Hobbits was draining.

Now, your hair is washed and so is your body. You're determined to sit in the bath until it's cold and you're all pruney. There's a plate full of fruit beside you on the rim of the bath and you've never been more grateful to eat it in your life. Strawberries, both blackberries and raspberries, grapes, melon cubes, oranges, and a few olives. By now, you've devoured most of the plate, not realizing how much you craved the fruit.

The wind blows lightly outside and you toss another blackberry into your mouth, catching it with ease.

Finally, what feels like hours later, the water is finally cold enough to encourage you to get out. Drying yourself off with a soft white cloth, you wrap it around your body and walk back into the rest of the room where Leilia told you clothes would be waiting.

And there are. On the bed, laid out is a fresh set of clothes. A light green flowy dress is before you, with long, loose sleeves and a pair of simple flat shoes.

You put them on a do a little twirl, remembering how much you like dresses. They're so breezy and they made you look so pretty.

There's a knock on your closed door, and you turn. Who could that be? You open the door to see Aragorn standing there, looking clean and rested up as well.

"Oh," is all that he says, looking you up and down.

You grin. "'Oh'? Is that all?"

"I've never seen you in a dress before."

It occurs to you that he's right. In all the times you've been with him, you always wore pants, a shirt, and boots. You were always somewhat grimy and your hair was always a mess of tangles.

"You look good, though," he adds quickly.

Smiling just a little, you say, "Thank you," and curtsy. "You clean up nicely, too." Playfully, you pull at his tunic.

He just smiles and shakes his head. The two of you have always been like this. Playful with each other. Sometimes, people thought you were flirting, but both of you quickly denied it. He was already betrothed to a beautiful Elven lady and Aragorn wasn't your type. You like blonds.

"Anyway, why'd you come to bother me?" you ask him.

"I was wondering if you'd like me to show you around? If you're not too tired, that is."

He's always been such a gentleman, too. And while you are tired, you're not too exhausted that you would pass up on the opportunity to look around this beautiful place with your friend. You quickly nod and soon the two of you are on your way out.

The sun is beginning to sink to the horizon as you walk around, but that seems to make the journey better. The sun's beams bounce off of the glass and bronze of the kingdom, making everything glitter and shine.

Aragorn leads you through gardens and around fountains, pointing out what buildings are what. There's a smithery, several gazebos for sitting or eating, and a giant library filled with history and texts of old.

"Can we go there?" you ask him excitedly. You've always loved history. In your home, you didn't get to read much, only having oral tales.

Aragorn smiles. "Later tonight."

He keeps true to his word. After checking in on Frodo and thanking the gods for his healing, you both head over there.

"I'm happy Frodo is well," you say as you walk down the steps. "I've grown fond of the Hobbit."

"As have I," Aragorn agrees.

As you walk through a courtyard, you see two small men. For a moment, you think they're Hobbits, but these men have long, rough beards and they're dressed in armor.

They are dwarves.

What are dwarves doing in Rivendell?

Before you can ask Aragorn, he leads you down to the library you were obsessing about. The moment you walk down the steps, you forget what you were going to ask. The room is beautiful, the most fantastic place you've seen. It's large and decorated with ornate and silver pieces of furniture. The room is filled with books. To one side of the room is a balcony with a telescope pointed towards the side. There are other astronomy and mathematical devices that you can't name.

Walking up another set of stairs, your eyes land on a fresco painting on the wall. With a small gasp, you slowly cross the way, your shoes tapping against the stone flooring.

A mural of Isildur versus Sauron is before you, looking well-preserved and well-crafted. There's so much intricate detail, you wonder how one could have possibly had the patience to create it. Isildur, a once great king, is laying on the ground before Sauron the Dark Lord, his sword raised in defiance. Something about that image makes a feeling of great pride rise in you, knowing that you share similar blood to that man, to that hero. Perhaps you could be like him one day?

Aragorn stands beside you and you say, "It's beautiful."

"Yes," he agrees, seeming fixed on Isildur. A look crosses his face, of shame? You cannot tell and you wonder.

But something else catches your eye. You turn and spot something glinting on a cloth-covered plinth. You step up and see the shards of a sword. Narsil, the broken blade of Elendil. It was rumored that though Sauron shattered the blade, Isildur picked up the hilt and cut the Ring from Sauron's hand, both banishing the Dark Lord and taking the Ring for himself.

And now, it is around the neck of a small, kind, adventurous Hobbit.

Slowly, you grasp the hilt of the broken blade in both hands and hold it up in front of you. It's heavy, even in your hands. What little sunlight there is left in the sky seems to bend towards the sword and refract against it, sending little glimmers across the room. You expect the broken edges to be dull after all this time, but even looking at them tells you they're still just as sharp.

"I can't believe this is still in such good condition," you whisper, gently setting it back down where it was.

"The Elves have taken good care of it," Aragorn says. "Come. Let's find a book."

He doesn't have to tell you twice, and within minutes, you have one chosen. Unsurprisingly, most of them are in Sindarin, but you find one book you're interested in that is in Westron or Common Tongue.

And so you sit at a bench and open the book and begin to read. It's a telling of legends of old and of history. You flip to the page where the talk about when Melkor was captured by the Valar and how Sauron stayed behind. Ever since running into the Nazguls and discovering the Ring, you've realized how little you knew of the history behind it. So, you figured you should read up on it.

Aragorn comes and sits beside you after choosing his own book and, together, the two of you read in silence. Normally you're both in silence when you're not drunk or bored and want to talk. Aragorn is the quieter of you two, so you assume this is lovely for him.

But you enjoy yourself. You enjoy learning the history behind that one tiny piece of Jewelry, and you also find yourself enjoying the silence. Occasionally, an Elf will come in, but they leave soon and don't talk to you or Aragorn. The sun finally sets and the birds outside quiet down and prepare for rest. You turn the thick page and it seems to echo in the hall.

Finally, as your eyes grow heavy, you close the book, and it thuds. Aragorn looks up and sees how exhausted you are. He gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and says, "Go get some rest, Y/N."

The memory of the dwarf pops into your head out of the blue and you blurt out, "Aragorn, I saw a Dwarf in one of the courtyards earlier."

You meet his eyes and he nods. "Yes, I saw him as well."

"Why are there Dwarves in Rivendell? You and I both know very well how much they hate Elves."

Once, while in a pub in a village, you both had a rather lengthy conversation with an extremely intoxicated Dwarf. Conversation, however, was an exaggeration, as he was the only one doing the talking, and how the only talking he was doing was complaining about the Elves.

Aragorn laughs and nods. "Yes, that is true. Elrond informed me that he sent out word to all races of Middle Earth when Frodo arrived with the Ring. He said something about it being up to all of Middle Earth to decide its fate. He's holding a meeting tomorrow at noon. You should come."

With a small frown, you say, "Aragorn, I need to head home. I've already been gone for too long, my father is sure to be worried. He needs me."

"I understand, Y/N, but this is important. That ring is the most dangerous thing on this earth now, and it's important to discuss what to do with it." He takes your hands in his, something he does from time to time when getting into a deep conversation. "You know just as well as I do what is hunting, searching for the Ring. It is dangerous and I know even now that someone must carry it back to Mordor to destroy it."

"Mordor? The Land of Shadows? That's Sauron's dominion, why would it go there? That sounds like the last place someone would want to take it."

"Elrond believes that the only way to truly destroy it is to throw it back into the fire from whence it was created."

You nod. "Oh, makes sense."

"Yes." Aragorn grips your hands. "Please, at least come to the Council. You could provide insight with me."

You bite your lip in consideration. It is only tomorrow, and you don't necessarily plan on leaving immediately, though your mind does tell you that you should go home soon. Even though you informed your father of your leaving and got his clearing on it, you still felt bad, still felt guilty. You are the heir to your village. And while your father is still in his prime, you still need to be there, both for him and your younger sister. She always needs you.

"For me?"

With a sigh, you cave in. "Alright, fine, I'll come. It is only tomorrow. But." Quickly, you pull your hands away and point your finger at him. "I reserve the right to not join any quest or adventure that may be suggested. If there is a quest to take back the Ring, I cannot and will not go. I have other responsibilities."

With a smile, Aragorn nods. "Understood."

You smile at your friend and stand up. "I'm going to retire," you say and pick the book from the bench. "Can I take this with me?"

Aragorn shrugs. "So long as you return it."

"Of course I will." Tucking it under your arm, you bend down to give your friend a hug. "Goodnight, Aragorn."

"Goodnight, Y/N."

And with that, you make your way out of the library, down the steps, and out the door. The night air is cool outside and fresh, smelling of grass and something sweet. Your path is lit up nicely with torches and you recall your way back to your room, surprisingly.

Your room is a bit dark. The moonlight streaming through the large window really seems to be helping you actually see where things are. On the bed, there is another dress, though this one looks more like a nightgown. It's lighter and is a cream color. Your bones start to ache again and so you quickly change from your dress to the nightgown before quickly getting into bed.

The moment your head touches the pillow, you body melts into the mattress. The last time you slept on a real bed was almost three weeks ago, the night before you left to meet with Aragorn. Since then, you've been sleeping in chairs or on the ground. Neither of those was too terribly comfortable.

But this bed feels like a cloud, it cradles all of your pressure points and it provides great relief for your aching back.

The covers are warm and you curl up into a ball to preserve your heat. You suppose you've been a bit conditioned to do that after sleeping outside for so long.

Between the quiet breeze of the wind, the feathery, downy mattress, and the warm blankets, you quickly fall asleep.

~*~

The next morning, you wake up to the sounds of birds and the sweet voices of Elves. For a moment, you think you're still dreaming but when you sit up, you realize that it is real.

Slowly, you get up, your legs sore and achy. Limping towards the balcony, you lean on the railing, looking down at the Elves going about their day. The sun is slowly rising, and you judge that it's just a few hours until midday.

So you get back into bed and continue reading. You may as well get the most out of the comfy bed while you're here.

When you finally need to pee a couple of hours later, you decide to get up and head down to the meeting Aragorn had told you about. You change back into the dress you wore the day before and slip the shoes back on. You pin your hair up somewhat messily and let some strands fall in front of your face before heading out. Before you leave the door, you stop. After thinking, you go ahead and grab your bow. You leave the arrows, but you feel you need just your bow.

Aragorn mentioned it was being held in a courtyard by the library and you find it much easier than you expected. It appears you're one of the first to arrive and quickly claim a seat beside Aragorn.

"You made it," he says to you, smiling.

You nod and shrug. "I didn't have much better to do."

He laughs.

This council chamber is very lovely, with a tree behind it, and leaves fall down onto the ground. There's a semi-circle of stone chairs with a plinth in the middle and a few chairs at the front where Elrond and two other Elves sit.

Gradually, people begin to trickle in groups and sit down. Gandalf arrives with Frodo, who appears a bit nervous, but still in good health. The color has returned greatly to his face and he has that sparkle in his eyes once more. Gandalf the Grey, the acclaimed wizard, looks the part of a sorcerer very well, with his tall grey hat and matching beard.

Elves trickle in and the same group of dwarves you saw yesterday, looking very displeased and uncomfortable take their seats.

Groups of Men sit down, men of Gondor you immediately know. You recognize Boromir, son of Denethor, the steward and acting leader of Gondor. Though your people, people of Rohan, tend to dislike men of Gondor, you've always liked Boromir. He was fair and kind and very brave, earning many titles over the year.

Your eyes scan the crowd as they tend to do, and your eyes stop of a particular Elf. He is exceptionally fair, with blond hair and piercing blue eyes. His jawline is sharp and his skin pale. He wears a sage green cloak and his hair appears to be pinned back.

Quickly, you look away when he meets your gaze, leaning your cheek in your hand to hide the blush.

Once everyone appears to have arrived, Lord Elrond stands from his chair. "Strangers from distant lands, friends of old. You've been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor." Even the mention of the land sends a chill down your spine. "Middle Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite, or you will fall."

At this, you begin to glance at the others seated near you. Unite? Men, Elves, and Dwarves haven't united together in ages. Though there is a greater evil, part of you doesn't expect this meeting to go too well.

"Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom," Elrond continues, looking tall and mighty with his crown on his head. He looks at Frodo and says, "Bring forth the Ring, Frodo," and extends his arm to the plinth in the center.

You watch as the Hobbit stands and approaches the plinth, aware that all eyes are on him. Gently, he sets the Ring in the center and you swear you hear it thud. Frodo walks back to his seat, seeming lighter and more at ease, and Gandalf gives him a reassuring nod.

The Ring looks simple enough. Just a simple golden band. But there's something that makes you want it. It's so shiny, so pretty. It's powerful, too, your mind tells you.

"So it is true," Boromir whispers, literally on the edge of his seat, his eyes fixed on the Ring.

The group is mumbling, whispering among themselves. You look and see that everyone's eyes are fixed on the Ring and for a moment, you swear you hear whispering in your ear. But you lean back in your chair, clasping your hands and squeezing, pulling your eyes away from the Ring and instead staring at the ground, trying your best to resist the urge. You know its true nature, you know this Ring's true master. And it is no one here.

Boromir suddenly stands up and you thank the Valar that you now have something else to focus on. "In a dream, I saw the eastern sky grow dark." He glances at the Ring and swallows. "But in the West, a pale light lingered." He gradually approaches the Ring, staring down at it. "A voice was crying, 'Your doom is near at hand. Isildur's Bane is found.'" He reaches for the Ring and your breath hitches. He wouldn't dare. "Isildur's Bane."

Before he can even touch the Ring, Gandalf stands and begins chanting in a low and echoing voice. The sky darkens and thunder cracks, shaking you in your very seat. Boromir staggers back to his seat as the language you don't recognize resonate in your ears, sending a feeling of dread down your spine. The speech subsides and the sky clears and lightens up again.

Elrond turns to Gandalf, looking angry. "Never before has any voice uttered the words of that tongue here in Imladris."

Tongue? Then you assume that it's likely Black Speech to which he refers, the dialect of Sauron and his followers. See, you did learn something useful from that book.

Gandalf bows his head but does not seem sorry. "I do not ask for your pardon, Master Elrond, for the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the West!" He stares a Boromir and declares, "The Ring is altogether evil!" and heads back for his chair.

Boromir shakes his head. "It is a gift." He stands up once more. "A gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this Ring?" He turns and addresses all races present. "Long has my father, the steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of your people are your lands kept safe."

You sigh and press your tongue into your cheek. Spoken like a true Gondorian, assuming that just because they do their job they are entitled to something.

"Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him!"

"You cannot wield it," Aragorn cuts in. "None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master."

You nod and say, "That is its entire point, really."

Boromir smirks a bit and asks cooly, "And what would two Rangers know of this matter?"

The Elf, who you had been eying earlier, stands and says, "He is no mere Ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance."

Son of...? Son of Arathorn? Isildur's heir? No wonder Aragorn kept his past secret. You resist the urge to look at him in shock, but part of you isn't surprised. Somehow, it fits him.

Boromir turns to your friend in shock and amusement. "Aragorn? This is Isildur's Heir?"

"And heir to the throne of Gondor."

Now you're beginning to wish you had some strawberries to eat because this sounded like it was shaping up to be a duel to you.

Aragorn says something to the Elf. Most of it you don't understand but you catch the last part, his name. Legolas. Prince of the Woodland realm. Yeah, you've heard of him before. You still find him pretty.

Boromir looks at Legolas and says, "Gondor has no king." He looks at Aragorn and says, "Gondor needs no king." And he sits back down, glaring at Aragorn.

Maybe, you think, but your ruler right now is kind of a douche.

You gently touch your friend's arm and raise a brow, silently asking if he's alright. He answers by putting his hand over your wrist and leaving it there as Gandalf begins to speak.

"Aragorn is right," says the wizard. "We cannot use it."

"Then you have only one choice," Elrond stands and the words seem difficult for him to get it out. "The Ring must be destroyed."

A heaviness settles across the air, but you know he's right. You've seen what's after it, how undying they are, how fearsome. It's a fact that no one can use it. Sauron's power is linked to the Ring. Destroy the Ring, destroy the wielder.

"What are we waiting for?" asks a wild redhead Dwarf. He stands, grabbing his axe and making his way for the Ring. Before anyone can stop him, he swings his axe down at the Ring. The weapon shatters as if made of wood and the Dwarf falls down, his kin rushing to pick him back up.

Glancing at Frodo, you see that he's clutching his head and slouching in his chair. Your heart aches for him, poor boy. Looking back at the plinth, you see the Ring is, unsurprisingly, unharmed.

"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft we here possess," Elrond says. "The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came! One of you must do this."

For a moment, the room is silent. Of course it is. Walk into Mordor? That's not possible.

Of course, Boromir speaks up. Again. "One does not simply walk into Mordor. It's black gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. The Great Eye is ever-watchful."

Yes, you've heard rumors of an eye. A great, fiery orange eye atop a black tower, always watching. That does freak you out, mostly because eyes freak you out.

"It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand Men could you do this. It is folly."

Angrily, you sit up in your chair. What do these Men not understand, this is the only way. "Did you hear nothing Lord Elrond just said? It is the only way, and it must be soon. For something far scarier than any of you is after that Ring." With a jab, you angrily point at the plinth.

Boromir's eyes latch on your, coldly. "And if we fail, woman, what then? What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?"

Now you stand. "You seemed mighty confident just a minute ago, taking it for your own. Now you're scared of it?"

The room breaks into arguments, Men against Dwarves, Dwarves against Elf, Men against Men. It's loud, but you're angry, so you have no problem approaching high-and-mighty Boromir to chew him out when he steps towards you.

"What would a woman know about these matters?" asks the High Warden of the White Tower. "A Rohirrim one at that?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, are you upset because I'm a woman or because horses like me more than you?" You glare up at the man. You've never taken insults or shit from anyone and though he may be attractive, Boromir is no different. "Though, perhaps it's difficult to tell the difference between a woman and a horse, as you've likely lain with both!"

"I have faced far greater battles than you could ever dream, woman. I see no weapons. Are you truly a Ranger?"

"See, I don't need weapons with men like you, all I need is my knee and good aim, though it is a small target."

As arguments grow louder and more Men begin to doubt your own abilities, you need to step back. You're too hotheaded and you're afraid you'll start a fight. Aragorn takes your hand and pulls you towards him, placing a comforting hand on your face.

"How dare they insult me," you continue to rant to him, anger still bubbling, your skin hot to the touch. "Just because I'm a woman? Like, what the fuck? They're running kingdoms and then insult me just because I'm a girl, like seriously? How old are you?"

"Yes, yes, they're wrong, but you must calm down, Y/N," Aragorn keeps telling you but you can barley hear him over your own voice and Frodo's, which has suddenly picked up.

Wait, Frodo?

You turn to see the little Hobbit standing, his face slightly sweaty, shouting, "I will take it!"

The room quiets down, all eyes turning to the Hobbit in shock. You wonder how many of them knew he existed. "I will take the Ring to Mordor." Then he hesitates, now noticing all eyes are on him. "Though... I do not know the way."

The old wizard, Gandalf, nods, walking towards him. "I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins," he tells him warmly with a pat on his shoulder, "as long as it is yours to bear."

Then you do something you do not expect. Just last night, you swore to not go on this quest. But something deep down in your heart tells you that you must go, it's your destiny. And so you walk forward and take a knee before the Hobbit, now being eye-level with him. "I pledge to you, Master Baggins. I will help you in your journey. I will shield your back and keep your counsel and give my life for yours if need be. I will help you destroy the Ring, Master Baggins, for all of Middle Earth."

Frodo smiles at you and you stand to move beside him.

Aragorn is quick to stand next, saying, "If by my life or death I can protect you, I will." Then he kneels before Frodo and says, "You have my sword."

Legolas walks forward. "And you have my bow."

Gimli the Dwarf is next, holding up another one of his axes. "And my axe."

The six of you stand together and you feel pride. This really is shaping up to be a good team to go destroy this Ring.

But the Boromir walks forward. You anger has quickly subsided, as it normally does, but you still feel resentment towards him. Of course, perhaps both of your outbursts was caused by the Ring. That didn't sound so outlandish. But still, you refuse to look at him.

"You carry the fate of us all, little one," he says to Frodo. "If this is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done."

A voice suddenly shouts, "Here!" from nowhere, nearly causing your heart to jump out of your chest. You turn to see Samwise Gamgee running from the bushes to be at his friend's side. "Mister Frodo's not going anywhere without me," and he crosses his arms defiantly.

You smile as Elrond lightly says, "No, indeed. It is hardly possible to separate you two, even when he is summoned to a secret Council and you are not." He seems to play the part of upset, but his voice lightens near the end and he smiles just slightly.

"Oi! We're coming too!"

Two more Hobbits come running up the steps and you resist the urge to laugh aloud. Frodo's friends sure are loyal to him as they stand bedside his side in front of an Elf lord and over a dozen Men, Elves, and Dwarves.

"You'd have to send us home tied in a sack to stop us," says Merry defiantly.

Pippin nods beside him. "Anyway, you need intelligence on this sort of mission...quest...thing."

Merry stares at him and says in a snarky tone, "Well that rules you out, Pip."

Elrond surveys your group and you can't help but smile with pride. Here you are, on a mission to save the realm. A group of three Men, an Elf, a Dwarf, a wizard, and four Hobbits. Sure, not the likeliest of pairs. Even you could never have dreamed it. But something told you that there was no better group than the one you were with right now.

"Ten companions," muses Elrond. "So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!"

Your chest swells and you exchange a look with Aragorn.

"Great!" Pip exclaims. "Where are we going?"

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