Past, Present, and Future
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the known character mentioned. Sadly, they all belong to J.R.R. Tolkien. But I can say that Winter is mine.
CHAPTER ONE: Another Warning
Winter stalked through Minas Tirith, moving swiftly and silently. Her footsteps fell like an assassin. Her movements sliding like a thief, swift yet with a certain amount of grace. She body bent out of sight if others dared to look in her direction. The way she would walk down the streets, many whispered that she was a daughter of an Elf.
Few knew of her existence in Gondor, let alone her roles in the past, and so she kept her life as such, demanding secrecy. Finding it easier to wander if she remained hidden, blending in with the night. Wearing black all around her; keeping the hood of her cloak up she hid her light brown hair; shadowing her from the unwanted eyes of the residents of Minas Tirith.
Her green eyes scanned the area wound her; searching for something out of the ordinary in the upper levels. Her hand did not stray far from the weapons in her hips, ready to withdraw if need be. Her hands only left their nearness to her weapons when she had to lift herself over the dividing walls. Finding this steadily becoming more difficult the closer she got to the palace. The walls became taller, to the point that she had us the roofing of some houses to get high enough for her to even start her climb over.
As she began to reach the last wall she had to ascend, she began to second guess why she was attempting this. Never before had she even thought about getting this close to him. Never before had she entered the grounds the palace to speak to him. Usually a note sufficed, or a reminding call in a busy street, but this time she had to press the gravity of the upcoming endeavor.
Aragorn was restless this night. Why? He was not exactly sure. But he felt something stirring in his city. Something that caught his mind and would not let him rest until solved. And so he had slipped out of bed in hopes that fresh air would help to relax him. However, that shift in environment caused his mind to not settle but in fact to become more alive. Every worry that plagued him during the day seemed to come back to life.
While he wandered around the garden, some issues left his mind completely. Others lingered before being placed aside so he deal with what so unwilling kept him awake. Then again, he was unable to pin point exactly what overwhelmed him. The matter had yet to present itself openly, choosing to stay a mere feeling. And this time, the refreshing cool air and fragrances from the fresh flowers did not seem to be helping to settle his racing thoughts.
Winter smirked when she saw Elessar wandering through his gardens. Perhaps this would be easier then she had earlier deemed. So she waited until he was no longer facing her general direction and hopped over the wall. She saw her black cloak flutter around her as she fell towards the ground. Her hands helped her steady herself after she landed. Her knees were bent from the impact she had because of gravity. She jerked her head to look at the king, to see if she had caught his attention. Surprising he was still facing the other direction. This night began to look like it was in her favor.
Silently she crept closer, waiting for the perfect moment and distance before she caught his attention. Only she was not as careful with her footing as she was earlier. Her eyes never left the king of Gondor; waiting, watching for him to notice her before she wished him to. Because of her carelessness, her foot hit a potted plant. Accidentally knocking it over, she stiffened but made not move.
"Who is there?" Elessar asked, spinning to the direction of the sound. Winter took a deep breathe as he scanned for a sign of someone. "Who has entered my grounds?" He demanded of the silence. Deciding that there was no other time then the present she began to stand straight; still hiding in the shadows.
"'Tis I Elessar," Winter said softly once she had reached her full height. Slowly she removed herself from the shadows that had hid her well.
"Armariel," He breathed with what seemed to be relief yet suspicion.
Winter smirked at the name he had given her. Even when she had tried to remain nameless, the boundaries of a name had still pulled her in. It was typical to give someone a name, even to those who purposefully kept theirs a secret.
"Just remember what I have told you Elessar. You are not safe here," the lady said to Aragorn. She then turned and jumped for one height of stacked objects to another slightly taller until she returned to the top of the looming wall. With a jump she went over the wall with grace.
Bewildered, Aragorn stood still, looking at the space Armariel had just filled. He knew this message, she had left various phrases of the same idea and she had spoken to him once or twice when he visited the market as Strider. Her words never changed when she spoke. They warned him of treachery in his city. Something he never believed would happen, even if she would tell him exactly what treachery she spoke of.
Aragorn did not know who the lady was, or why she gave him such vague warnings. Yet he felt as if he had encountered her before. So he gave her the name Armariel, since she would not provide a name for herself. In his mind, he could not think of anything better that fit her. And so Armariel it would stay until she revealed herself to him.
The King of Gondor walked backed towards his room. The original shock of her appearance had worn off, along with the earlier dread he had felt. Softly he slipped back into bed, prepared to have a decent night's rest. As he was just about to snuff the candle by his side, he decided to find this lady of warnings. By this time tomorrow he hoped to know exactly what was going to plague his country.
Winter walked through the shadows of Minas Tirith, wondering why she dared to jump the castle wall to warn Elessar. A man she neither knew nor liked. To her, Elessar was unimportant, insignificant in the grand scheme of life. There would be many other kings to come, many to rule in his stead. Yet to his people, he was to world. He had brought hope when there was none. He had brought salvation and life to a dying country. He brought unity of other countries and unity of Gondor, something that had been lost during Denethor's rule as Steward.
And when it can down to the matter of kings, the people's opinion was all that mattered. She would not watch this country fall again. She would not stand idly by and let it be consumed by evil. Not while she drew breathe. She would rather die again then watch the White City fall to corruption.
At the same time that she loathed Elessar, Winter admired him. From a distance, she watched him communicate with the common folk. The simple conversations he had with the others had touched her. Neither Ecthelion nor Denethor would come off their throne to talk to their subjects. Boromir and Faramir would not even dare to go against their father. Yet it was more then just the friendliness he shared with everyone.
Elessar commanded his citizens with power, yet also with kindness. Each of the natural born citizens, and even the new comers, would gladly give their lives for him. All he would have to do is ask. Yet the King never seemed to realize his affect of the common man. As it he expected them to do for any ruler, it was if he had expected his people to have lived like this for quite some time. Rather then starving to death as they did not but a few years ago.
Skidding to a stop, Winter pulled herself out of her thoughts. She had neared the abandoned house she was using for a home. Quickly she unlocked the back door and pushed it open, shutting and locking it behind her. Walking in the darkness she found what was her bedroom. She fell to sleep with no worries about the up and coming day.