Disclaimer: I own nothing of Tolkien's amazing work, nor do I ever even dream to foreshadow it's greatness with my puny, pathetic fantastic obsession.

Note to the Reader: For fans of Safe in My Arms, you were promised an alternate ending for the story way back when I finished the original in July of 2006. Well, as promised, here it is! Now, this story is not only an alternate ending, it is also a full revised edition of Safe in My Arms, and will span from 20 to 25 chapters of all new, revised content and an edited story line. :)

So if you're a fan of the original, or reading this story for the first time, I present to you, the alternate ending of Safe in My Arms, the tale of Faerlain and Victoria. :)

Rating: This fic is rated 'T' for mild language, violence.

Chapter One

Expectations

Once upon a time, there was a girl who had loving parents and a great brother. They lived on a horse farm. One day, the brother got into an accident... and he died. The End.

... Doesn't sound like much of a fairy-tale does it? No... not many people have fairy-tale endings anymore. But I did... and that bit was only the beginning... only the seed of my tale. It wasn't too long ago... not by any standards at all. But my tale... something different happened in my tale... something that doesn't happen in most. Have I intrigued you? I should hope so... my greatest desire in life was to always be remembered for something... perhaps this shall be my legacy.

And, like most fairy-tales, my story starts off with a tragedy. Death is something that happens to everybody... fate comes knocking at our door and no one realizes how much you have until you lose it. All of it. It was like that for me... and though death visits us all... it hit me in a particular way. For while we all lose someone at some point or another... it happens to us. Each one of us.

That was where my story began.

A story that belongs to me: I, Victoria.

It was quiet that night... the night after the funeral. I don't think most people realize how quiet it can be... how silently change comes until, at lasts, it sweeps you so hard off your feet that you find yourself falling with no one to catch you.

I didn't have someone to catch me then... and I felt as though I could hardly breathe as I stood in the doorway of his bedroom... touching his clothes... remembering the way he would laugh... remembering that aroma he would bring into the house when he came in from riding.

He... was my brother, Zachary. And Zach... was dead.

Zach had a sort of vivaciousness to him that seemed to have left me behind. Blonde and blue-eyed, Zach had been my parents eldest child and only son... the star of the town and the light of their lives. He could brighten a room just by entering it... and his anger would smolder into flames that could have burnt holes in the old oak floors of our little farmhouse. And I had loved him... very much.

It wasn't like my parents didn't love me... it wasn't like that at all. I was just the quieter one. Yes, I could be bold. Bold, competitive, and prideful. But I wasn't like my elder brother. When I spoke my thoughts... they always came out wrong. I am brutally honest. And such honestly rarely finds many allies in a world such as ours. An ugly... dirty world that now... I felt I had no part of.

And it was so quiet... and there was no one their to catch me now as I fell. I did not sob or cry when they lowered him into the earth. I did not wail or moan as my father threw the first handful of dirt. Do you know it sounded like thousands of nails pounding in my head when the soil hit his casket? Do you know I wanted to rip it open the whole time and laugh when it turned out my brother had just been playing a joke and wasn't dead at all?

Did you know I wished it was all make-believe?

Did I know life could ever be like this?

No... apparently not. I could sense him everywhere... hear echoes of his deep voice drifting down the halls. I hardly noticed when my father gently laid a hand on my shoulder and asked me if I was all right. Mumbling, I told him I'd go to bed soon... hardly aware that he never left my side as I stared wide-eyed into Zach's bedroom.

Did you know it was then I shed my first tear? Did you know I could never remembered what happened after that moment the next day? Did you know I felt so hollow inside I thought I might break?

Do you know... I think it was all my fault?

My father's name is Henry, Henry Knightengale. My mother's name is Sarah.

Zach and I had competed together on my parents' horses since he was five and I was three. We'd compete in stadium jumping. It wasn't until I was fifteen that they gave me my first horse. He was an Appaloosa gelding, nearly 16.2 hands. Roughly white in color, with the barest hints of dark spots on his rump. We were a team.

That day after the funeral... it were as though time had stood still. I stood in my horse's stall... his name is Talorta, and I ran my hand over his shoulder... over and over again. Slowly, my mind numb, as I relished in the softness of his fur, the feel of his muscles beneath my hand.

Did I mention I have dark hair? Dark brown actually... and I share the same blue eyes as my brother... blue as the sky after a spring rain. Our eyes were the only things we had in common... that and our love of horses.

But none of that mattered anymore. I am eighteen... and the person closest to me that I have ever known... was gone.

It is summer now... and in the fall I am going to start my first classes at a local college... a college he had attended for two years now. Zach was always there to take care of me... and now I had to look out for myself.

But I didn't think I was ready... didn't think I could survive on my own. For the second time since the doctor told us he had died, the tears rolled down my cheeks. "How could you leave me?" I whispered, Talorta strained his neck and nudged me curiously, questioning perhaps the reason behind my tears. He didn't understand and I couldn't explain to him the reason for my sorrow. I couldn't explain it to anyone.

My parents tried as hard as they could in the weeks that followed to get our lives to return back to normal. But do you know what it feels like to see an empty chair at the table? Or to hear the silence that follows the wake of death? In some ways, the world moved on. The sun continued to rise and set, every day the horses still needed to be taken care of. Every morning I could still see the beautiful valley we lived in stretch out before me. An open vista, a glorious tribute to its creator.

But someone life seemed dimmer now... like a dark lense had been drawn over my eyes. Nothing brought me pleasure... and suddenly everything that once held meaning for me seemed lost on the morning breeze. Talorta was the only thing that remained constant for me. Because we did have something in common... we both had the same guilt.

"Did you hear about the convict that escaped from the city prison this week?" My father commented to my mother as he cut up his steak.

"Convict...? Around here?" My mother exclaimed in surprise. I offered no comment. While I knew their conversation was more for my benefit then their own, I also knew that they couldn't stand the silence any more then I could.

"Yeah... apparently he found a way out and they haven't seen him since."

"You've been locking up at night, haven't you Henry?" My mother asked nervously... I pushed my mashed potatoes listlessly around my plate... hardly listening to what they were saying.

"'Course I do Sarah." My father answered gruffly. "The guy broke into a local shop... but they haven't identified when he's stolen yet."

"All this excitement." She commented, then bit into her food. My parent's were in their late forties. My mother found out when I was born that she couldn't have anymore children. The fact that Zach and I had been born at all had been a miracle being as she had supposed to be phyically incapable of bearing children.

I waited for my brother to tell a joke... he'd always been so good at things like that. They didn't even have to be funny... we'd laugh anyway. That was just the way things were. But he never told the joke... and the conversation lapsed into silence. I felt my throat tighten and tears burned in my eyes. I dropped my fork and it clattered loudly, startling my parents as it hit my plate.

"Victoria!" My mother exclaimed in alarm. "Are you all right?"

I stood so fast that my chair flipped over, covering my mouth I just shook my head. "I need... I need to check on Talorta." I whispered breathlessly, choking on my words as his memory stole my breath away once again.

I could hear them call after me as I ran from the kitchen, out the front door, and out into the warm, evening air. It was dark now... a full moon shone brightly overhead and the stars were out. Our farm was at the top of a great big hill. To the left of the house there were some paddocks and an arena, to the right was the barn and our driveway. On all sides we were surrounding by dense woods and it took about five minutes to get back on the main road from our house.

I darted to the barn, in my blue jeans, loose black sweatshirt, and barefoot. Talorta jumped a little when I ran into the barn... and, to my surprise, I found the doors already open. My father usually closed the barn up before he went in for dinner. Hardly caring, I ran into Talorta's stall and wrapped my arms around his neck.

My shoulders shook as I let out long, shuddering cries that I had been holding in ever since he had died. And maybe that was my big mistake.

I have always been quick in my judgement, but I have rarely ever acted impetuously. Yet, as I scramble onto Talorta's back, I had no judgement at all I gripped his mane tightly and prodded his sides. I felt numb- nothing left to say or do except to ease the heartache that seemed to permeate into my very being.

Talorta tentatively exited the barn, snorting with excitement and the night air licked our faces and rippled his mane. Prancing, I started to trot him to the woods behind the arena. There was a trail there... that led to a clearing Zach and I always used to go to. I didn't care where I went... I just needed to find him somewhere.

His memory lingered everywhere- killing me inside. I knew if he didn't leave me soon I wouldn't be able to keep up my facade... I'd just simply crack.

You know how when you watch those horror movies, the hairs on your arms stand up on end? I don't know what it was... but I slowed Talorta... and that's when I saw him. Not Zach... no. Though I wished it so many times in the seconds that followed. It was the silhouette of a man, his profile hidden by the darkness but his figure illuminated by the moon.

It might have all ended very differently if a few things hadn't happened next... but then again... none of what happened to me would have occurred if not for this fateful night.

He was holding something that glinted... like metal... in the moonlight. And he was shaking... with anger or fatigue I didn't know. There was someone on the ground behind him... someone who moaned suddenly as the man's hand continued to shake.

They say that your life is already written by the big man upstairs from the moment you enter this earth. Whether or not you follow the story he has in mind for you depends entirely on the choices you make in life and the paths you decide to follow. I don't know what God had in store for me that night... either way... it was far from anything I had expected.

Talorta froze, his ears twitching as the sound of the man's heavy breathing permeated the night air. And we both stood there, staring silently as the moon light streamed down and the wind whistled in the trees. My mouth felt dry and parched and I thought longingly of my parents sitting back in the kitchen at home. Why did you leave? Why did you leave? Kept echoing in my head, the thought tormenting me as the cold started to chill my body.

The person behind him moved sluggishly on the ground, and their moans were obstructed by something. "Don't-" I began... but just then the front door slammed and I heard the booming voice of my father from the front porch.

"Victoria?" He called sharply, concern evident in his tone.

It happened so fast after that... Talorta reared in fright as my father tromped from the house and then a loud shot rang out. I slid off, stunned and suddenly too weak to control Talorta's impetuous and frightened behavior. My head hurt as I absorbed the shock of hitting the ground and my shoulder burned... a lot.

I looked up at the stars... the beautiful stars. They had a dreamy quality to them, and the mist from my breath floated up to them, blanketing them in puffs of steam as I breathed and the mist vanished. It was all blurry for some reason... and I couldn't understand much as a strange weight in my head whispered to me of sleep.

Someone was holding my hand. It was a man... and he sounded tired. But his voice didn't belong to my father. Over and over again he whispered to me, "It's all right, I'll save you."

But his voice was fading now... and soon I couldn't see anything at all.

You know how things look dark when you close your eyes? Well... it wasn't like that for me. Everything just kept getting brighter and brighter until, at last, I didn't feel the cold of the night or the burn in my shoulder... or the soothing voice telling me to hold on... to hold on...

A/N: Well... what did you all think:) This begins a line of chapters I'll be posting every other day or so that will delve into what Safe in My Arms would have been like if Victoria and Faerlain had hooked up in the end. Do review, it's been so long since I dove into LotR fanfiction that I'm a little rusty. :)

Oh, and the SIMA website (the link to which has been posted at the bottom of my bio) has been updated with a brand-spanking new layout commemorating this story along with some new fan art done by myself. :) Do check it out if you get a moment:)

Till next we meet...

TO BE CONTINUED...