Title: In Dreams
Author email: wordless_angel @hotmail.com
Disclaimer: None of this is mine. No offence is meant to the creators and
no money is being made from this work. The song is the breaking of the
Fellowship song on the LOTR soundtrack. If you have it, go listen. It's
really sad.
A/N - Must Have Reviews!!! If you like it, if you hate it, let me know.
When the cold of winter comes, Starless nights will cover day. In the veiling of the sun We will walk in bitter rain. But in dreams, I can hear your name And in dreams, We will meet again. When the sea and the mountains fall And we come to the end of days, In the dark I hear a call, Calling me there. I will go there and back again.
Chapter 1: Raining days
Thunder clashed over the trees of Mirkwood forest. Lightening replied, lashing the sky like a whip. The dark clouds, which had been threatening to tear apart all day, had finally exploded, drowning the lands in torrents of rain.
She rode, arched over the saddle of her horse, gripping the reins tightly in one blood soaked hand and wrapping the other around her stomach. She hunched, as if to fend of the rain and her head was drawn close her chest. She was swathed in a black cape, but the hood had been blown back by the wind and the rain had soaked through. The horse galloped as if spurned by demons, seeming to need no direction from its rider.
Behind her another horse rode, baring a larger rider. His eyes were closed and he swayed in the saddle. Rain soaked his clothes and hair. The desperation that plagued the first rider had left him, to be replaced by acceptance and exhaustion.
(
Legolas had been caught in the rain before. But this storm was something he had never seen before. The darkening skies had also darkened his mood. Legolas could feel something in the way the winds howled. It was like it carried a message to him. And he guessed it was not a message he would like.
It seemed he was not alone in this thinking. The other elves around him seemed nervous of something. And Aragorn himself had rode to see his old friend that day. That was in fact, the reason Legolas was now drenched to the skin. He had come to meet the King as he came in. Both had been caught in the downpour.
At present, they rode through a small clearing that was the entrance to Mirkwood Forest. It was then that Legolas reined in his horse. Aragorn followed suit.
"What is it?" Aragorn asked quietly. Legolas held up a hand and listened.
"Two horses." He answered finally. "Two horses come. Each baring a single rider. One is maybe a child."
"Why do you say that?" Aragorn glanced at his friend.
"The hoof beats are light. An light person rides the horse."
"How close are they?"
"Close enough. Be ready." Legolas instructed and notched an arrow to his bow. He held it directly in front of him aiming at the entrance of the clearing. Aragorn drew his sword. They did not have long to wait. Between the trees rode two chestnut horses. Seeing Legolas, the horses whinnied and stopped. The first rider tried to dismount, but succeeded in slithering to the ground. She was kneeling, her head bowed.
Legolas and Aragorn lowered their weapons. It was obvious that this person could not harm them.
"Who are you?" Aragorn asked gently. The stranger tried to answer, managing only to croak. Seemingly frustrated by her inability to communicate, the stranger gripped the stirrup and used it to haul herself up. Then she raised her head. Both Aragorn and Legolas gasped.
The woman they looked at was young. No older that twenty. Her face was covered in dirt, streaked with blood from the many cuts on her face. Rain drenched black hair hung around her face. But her ice blue eyes were startling. They were desperate and intelligent but filled with a deep-set pain. Her knees wobbled dangerously and she gripped the saddle harder.
"Promised, fetch. must, help." her voice was thick with pain but her eyes didn't waver. It was like she was using them to communicate. Legolas stepped towards her.
"Can you walk?" he asked. The woman nodded slowly attempted to take a step. At this point her tortured knees gave out. But before she could hit the ground, an arm grasped her around the waist. Pain pierced her skin like hot pokers causing her to yell. Legolas quickly withdraw his arm. It was covered in blood.
"Oh, no." He whispered. "Aragorn come here." Aragorn made his way over. "What do you think of that?" Legolas indicated a wound on the strangers back.
"She's been shot."
"Yes. But where's the arrow?" Legolas glanced at Aragorn. "Could she have pulled it out?"
"Maybe." Aragorn inspected the wound. "It's bad. We need to get her somewhere out of the rain where I can help her." Legolas nodded decisively and turned to the woman.
"You can't walk." He stated. "I will have to carry you. Is that alright with you?" the stranger looked up at him. Her eyes were unsure. "I will try not to hurt you. You have nothing to fear from me." Legolas said, realising what her eyes were saying. In response she nodded slowly. As Legolas picked her up, her horse bucked and reared. Aragorn tried to grab the reins.
"Arze, still." The woman instructed. The horse lowered her hooves, but gave her a sceptical look. Legolas smiled.
"You have a very loyal horse." He whispered. The stranger didn't answer but merely closed her eyes and swallowed thickly.
"My brother." She managed to croak. Aragorn walked to the other horse and quickly examined the rider.
"We need to get this one back into the forest right away." Aragorn said urgently. Legolas glanced at his friend and nodded quickly.
"Come on." And with that, the to lead the wounded into Mirkwood forest.
(
"How does she do?" Legolas asked Aragorn softly, trying not to disturb the patients. Aragorn shook his head.
"She fairs ill."
"What had happened to her?"
"Well, the wound you saw on her side is old."
"Old?" Legolas asked, frowning. He didn't understand.
"Old." Aragorn confirmed. "She has numerous wounds, all varied in age from a full change of the moon, to two rises of the sun. That only suggests one thing."
"Torture." Legolas breathed.
"That is my conclusion. But another thing, the oldest wounds seem to be burns."
"Burns?" Legolas tilted his head to the side, thinking. "That means she was burned, then tortured."
"Or she ran from a fire into torture."
"What about the boy?" At this, Aragorn sighed and shook his head sadly.
"He has suffered the same. There is little I can do for him."
"How much worse is he?"
"Not so much worse, but he does not have her will to fight. He has given up."
"How long will you give him?" Aragorn shrugged.
"Who am I to say how long he will live? He may yet recover. If he wakes, he will live. If not."Aragorn looked sadly about. "We must just pray fever doesn't set in. We could lose both. It is really remarkable that they lasted this long."
"What ever happened, they should not be alive." Legolas stared at the sleeping forms of the strangers. In the light of the new day, the young woman's thinness was viable and without the power of her ice blue eyes, she seemed small and weak. Even now, she tossed and muttered in her dreams. The boy was silent and still. "No one should live through that." Legolas's own eyes were filled with pity. He sighed. "How long as she been asleep?"
"Not long. She fought me for a while. Kept calling out to someone."
"Who?"
"I don't know." Aragorn shook his head sadly. "What are we going to do with them?"
"They are human. That is up to you."
"The fate of ones with such strength should never be up to me."
"Well," Legolas said slowly. "They have three options. Go back to their home, where ever that may be, stay here, or go to Gondor when you ride back."
"Arwen would care well for them." Aragorn agreed. "But we must wait till they wake before the decision is made."
(
Day passed to night. Night passed to day and day again passed to night. What Aragorn feared come about, fever set in before the first night was past. By the next day, the boy had died. The fever had taken control, eating up his thin body quickly and easily. He had put up no fight. He had made no sound. And he had never woken.
His sister, on the other hand, refused to be taken; fighting with her last ounce of strength until it the fever was severely weakened. Legolas watched her at night, awed by her resilience. It was the third night he sat by her that she finally awoke.
When the cold of winter comes, Starless nights will cover day. In the veiling of the sun We will walk in bitter rain. But in dreams, I can hear your name And in dreams, We will meet again. When the sea and the mountains fall And we come to the end of days, In the dark I hear a call, Calling me there. I will go there and back again.
Chapter 1: Raining days
Thunder clashed over the trees of Mirkwood forest. Lightening replied, lashing the sky like a whip. The dark clouds, which had been threatening to tear apart all day, had finally exploded, drowning the lands in torrents of rain.
She rode, arched over the saddle of her horse, gripping the reins tightly in one blood soaked hand and wrapping the other around her stomach. She hunched, as if to fend of the rain and her head was drawn close her chest. She was swathed in a black cape, but the hood had been blown back by the wind and the rain had soaked through. The horse galloped as if spurned by demons, seeming to need no direction from its rider.
Behind her another horse rode, baring a larger rider. His eyes were closed and he swayed in the saddle. Rain soaked his clothes and hair. The desperation that plagued the first rider had left him, to be replaced by acceptance and exhaustion.
(
Legolas had been caught in the rain before. But this storm was something he had never seen before. The darkening skies had also darkened his mood. Legolas could feel something in the way the winds howled. It was like it carried a message to him. And he guessed it was not a message he would like.
It seemed he was not alone in this thinking. The other elves around him seemed nervous of something. And Aragorn himself had rode to see his old friend that day. That was in fact, the reason Legolas was now drenched to the skin. He had come to meet the King as he came in. Both had been caught in the downpour.
At present, they rode through a small clearing that was the entrance to Mirkwood Forest. It was then that Legolas reined in his horse. Aragorn followed suit.
"What is it?" Aragorn asked quietly. Legolas held up a hand and listened.
"Two horses." He answered finally. "Two horses come. Each baring a single rider. One is maybe a child."
"Why do you say that?" Aragorn glanced at his friend.
"The hoof beats are light. An light person rides the horse."
"How close are they?"
"Close enough. Be ready." Legolas instructed and notched an arrow to his bow. He held it directly in front of him aiming at the entrance of the clearing. Aragorn drew his sword. They did not have long to wait. Between the trees rode two chestnut horses. Seeing Legolas, the horses whinnied and stopped. The first rider tried to dismount, but succeeded in slithering to the ground. She was kneeling, her head bowed.
Legolas and Aragorn lowered their weapons. It was obvious that this person could not harm them.
"Who are you?" Aragorn asked gently. The stranger tried to answer, managing only to croak. Seemingly frustrated by her inability to communicate, the stranger gripped the stirrup and used it to haul herself up. Then she raised her head. Both Aragorn and Legolas gasped.
The woman they looked at was young. No older that twenty. Her face was covered in dirt, streaked with blood from the many cuts on her face. Rain drenched black hair hung around her face. But her ice blue eyes were startling. They were desperate and intelligent but filled with a deep-set pain. Her knees wobbled dangerously and she gripped the saddle harder.
"Promised, fetch. must, help." her voice was thick with pain but her eyes didn't waver. It was like she was using them to communicate. Legolas stepped towards her.
"Can you walk?" he asked. The woman nodded slowly attempted to take a step. At this point her tortured knees gave out. But before she could hit the ground, an arm grasped her around the waist. Pain pierced her skin like hot pokers causing her to yell. Legolas quickly withdraw his arm. It was covered in blood.
"Oh, no." He whispered. "Aragorn come here." Aragorn made his way over. "What do you think of that?" Legolas indicated a wound on the strangers back.
"She's been shot."
"Yes. But where's the arrow?" Legolas glanced at Aragorn. "Could she have pulled it out?"
"Maybe." Aragorn inspected the wound. "It's bad. We need to get her somewhere out of the rain where I can help her." Legolas nodded decisively and turned to the woman.
"You can't walk." He stated. "I will have to carry you. Is that alright with you?" the stranger looked up at him. Her eyes were unsure. "I will try not to hurt you. You have nothing to fear from me." Legolas said, realising what her eyes were saying. In response she nodded slowly. As Legolas picked her up, her horse bucked and reared. Aragorn tried to grab the reins.
"Arze, still." The woman instructed. The horse lowered her hooves, but gave her a sceptical look. Legolas smiled.
"You have a very loyal horse." He whispered. The stranger didn't answer but merely closed her eyes and swallowed thickly.
"My brother." She managed to croak. Aragorn walked to the other horse and quickly examined the rider.
"We need to get this one back into the forest right away." Aragorn said urgently. Legolas glanced at his friend and nodded quickly.
"Come on." And with that, the to lead the wounded into Mirkwood forest.
(
"How does she do?" Legolas asked Aragorn softly, trying not to disturb the patients. Aragorn shook his head.
"She fairs ill."
"What had happened to her?"
"Well, the wound you saw on her side is old."
"Old?" Legolas asked, frowning. He didn't understand.
"Old." Aragorn confirmed. "She has numerous wounds, all varied in age from a full change of the moon, to two rises of the sun. That only suggests one thing."
"Torture." Legolas breathed.
"That is my conclusion. But another thing, the oldest wounds seem to be burns."
"Burns?" Legolas tilted his head to the side, thinking. "That means she was burned, then tortured."
"Or she ran from a fire into torture."
"What about the boy?" At this, Aragorn sighed and shook his head sadly.
"He has suffered the same. There is little I can do for him."
"How much worse is he?"
"Not so much worse, but he does not have her will to fight. He has given up."
"How long will you give him?" Aragorn shrugged.
"Who am I to say how long he will live? He may yet recover. If he wakes, he will live. If not."Aragorn looked sadly about. "We must just pray fever doesn't set in. We could lose both. It is really remarkable that they lasted this long."
"What ever happened, they should not be alive." Legolas stared at the sleeping forms of the strangers. In the light of the new day, the young woman's thinness was viable and without the power of her ice blue eyes, she seemed small and weak. Even now, she tossed and muttered in her dreams. The boy was silent and still. "No one should live through that." Legolas's own eyes were filled with pity. He sighed. "How long as she been asleep?"
"Not long. She fought me for a while. Kept calling out to someone."
"Who?"
"I don't know." Aragorn shook his head sadly. "What are we going to do with them?"
"They are human. That is up to you."
"The fate of ones with such strength should never be up to me."
"Well," Legolas said slowly. "They have three options. Go back to their home, where ever that may be, stay here, or go to Gondor when you ride back."
"Arwen would care well for them." Aragorn agreed. "But we must wait till they wake before the decision is made."
(
Day passed to night. Night passed to day and day again passed to night. What Aragorn feared come about, fever set in before the first night was past. By the next day, the boy had died. The fever had taken control, eating up his thin body quickly and easily. He had put up no fight. He had made no sound. And he had never woken.
His sister, on the other hand, refused to be taken; fighting with her last ounce of strength until it the fever was severely weakened. Legolas watched her at night, awed by her resilience. It was the third night he sat by her that she finally awoke.
