Chapter One:
Quel kaima
(Sleep Well)
Arwen rode hard, urging her horse, Asfaloth, on to the brink of his speed and endurance. All nine Ringwraiths closed around her, trying their best to make Frodo give up the One Ring.
"No, Frodo! Don't give in!" she yelled hoarsely as one of the Nazgul reached out a hand of metallic steel, the gateway to the doom off all the free people of Middle Earth.
Frodo moaned and shook, drawing away from the hand as if it was his worst nightmare.
*Very soon to become his worst nightmare* Arwen thought grimly.
The Nazgul screamed in anger. "Give up the halfling, she-elf, and you will be spared.
"Never," Arwen replied shortly. They were close to the river that hugged Imladris's borders. Never in all of her 2,777 years had she been as glad to hear the sound of the roaring river as now.
She wheeled Asfaloth sharply around, avoiding the Nazgul that were forever trying to get in their way to safety. Finally, the river was in sight and Asfaloth put on a last spurt of speed and splashed gratefully into the river's healing waters.
"Give up the halfling, she-elf!" the Witch-King hissed again in its bone-chilling voice.
"If you want him, come and claim him," Arwen said as she drew her Elven blade with much more confidence than what she felt.
The Nazgul hesitated, and then urged their mounts carefully across the stream.
Arwen panicked. She hadn't really expected the Nazgul to take her challenge! Quickly, she thought up a spell desperately.
"Nîn o Chithaeglir, lasto beth daer, Rimmo nîn Bruinen dan in Ulaer! (Waters of the Misty Mountains listen to the great word: flow waters of Loudwater against the Ringwraiths!)"she chanted over and over, praying with hope beyond hope that it would work.
Her heart sang joyfully as she heard a rush of water, racing in the form of white horses. As the Nazgul screeched and washed away, the Witch- King looked and Arwen with eyes of never-ending evil and darkness. Its voice echoed in her head.
"Beware, elf. You have made the worst and last mistake of your life. BEWARE!" -End Dream-
Arwen woke up with a start, with cold sweat dripping off her chin. Gasping, she used the back of her hand to wipe the sweat off of her forehead.
*It was all a dream. Calm down, Arwen* she told herself and plopped back down again into her soft bed. Quickly, she got back up again and swiped a hand over her pillow and the rest of her bed. It was all covered in her sweat.
Shaking her head, she got up and dressed. This was Aragorn's last day in Rivendell and she wanted to spend the day with him. Suddenly, a thought came to her and Arwen froze. Her dream had been true. That had actually happened as the Nazgul were washed down the river.
Arwen stood, trembling, and managed to start down the steps to the dining hall for breakfast. Then Arwen heard footsteps approaching swiftly behind her. Before she had time to react, a hand wrapped itself around her waist, and the other around her eyes. She struggled, cold sweat pouring down her forehead again as fear crept over her.
"Guess who," a familiar voice whispered dangerously in her ear, keeping a strong hold on her.
Arwen whirled around as her captive let her go-but her assailant turned out to be only Aragorn.
"Aragorn!" she exclaimed as her heart rate sped up even more, her cheeks flushing at how close they had been just moments before.
He smiled at her and moved closer. Aragorn's lips seized hers in a sweet, satisfying good morning kiss. But halfway through the kiss, as Aragorn's hands began to feel Arwen's body and bring her face closer to his, the kiss was abruptly broken.
"What's wrong?" Arwen asked in confusion. Her heart whined for a longer, more sensual kiss than what he had just given her.
Aragorn took her soft, smooth hand in his rough, calloused ones and looked at her closely, deeply concerned and worried.
"I am the one who should be asking you that," he said. "Melamin, (my love) why are you covered in sweat?"
Arwen turned away, wrenching her hands away from his.
"N-nothing."she stammered, trailing off. She started down the stairs again but Aragorn grabbed her and whipped her around to face him.
"Something is wrong," Aragorn said. "Tell me, or I will ask Elrond for the strongest truth potion he has in his possession."
With a sigh, Arwen led him to her room. There was going to be a lot to say.
Arwen rode hard, urging her horse, Asfaloth, on to the brink of his speed and endurance. All nine Ringwraiths closed around her, trying their best to make Frodo give up the One Ring.
"No, Frodo! Don't give in!" she yelled hoarsely as one of the Nazgul reached out a hand of metallic steel, the gateway to the doom off all the free people of Middle Earth.
Frodo moaned and shook, drawing away from the hand as if it was his worst nightmare.
*Very soon to become his worst nightmare* Arwen thought grimly.
The Nazgul screamed in anger. "Give up the halfling, she-elf, and you will be spared.
"Never," Arwen replied shortly. They were close to the river that hugged Imladris's borders. Never in all of her 2,777 years had she been as glad to hear the sound of the roaring river as now.
She wheeled Asfaloth sharply around, avoiding the Nazgul that were forever trying to get in their way to safety. Finally, the river was in sight and Asfaloth put on a last spurt of speed and splashed gratefully into the river's healing waters.
"Give up the halfling, she-elf!" the Witch-King hissed again in its bone-chilling voice.
"If you want him, come and claim him," Arwen said as she drew her Elven blade with much more confidence than what she felt.
The Nazgul hesitated, and then urged their mounts carefully across the stream.
Arwen panicked. She hadn't really expected the Nazgul to take her challenge! Quickly, she thought up a spell desperately.
"Nîn o Chithaeglir, lasto beth daer, Rimmo nîn Bruinen dan in Ulaer! (Waters of the Misty Mountains listen to the great word: flow waters of Loudwater against the Ringwraiths!)"she chanted over and over, praying with hope beyond hope that it would work.
Her heart sang joyfully as she heard a rush of water, racing in the form of white horses. As the Nazgul screeched and washed away, the Witch- King looked and Arwen with eyes of never-ending evil and darkness. Its voice echoed in her head.
"Beware, elf. You have made the worst and last mistake of your life. BEWARE!" -End Dream-
Arwen woke up with a start, with cold sweat dripping off her chin. Gasping, she used the back of her hand to wipe the sweat off of her forehead.
*It was all a dream. Calm down, Arwen* she told herself and plopped back down again into her soft bed. Quickly, she got back up again and swiped a hand over her pillow and the rest of her bed. It was all covered in her sweat.
Shaking her head, she got up and dressed. This was Aragorn's last day in Rivendell and she wanted to spend the day with him. Suddenly, a thought came to her and Arwen froze. Her dream had been true. That had actually happened as the Nazgul were washed down the river.
Arwen stood, trembling, and managed to start down the steps to the dining hall for breakfast. Then Arwen heard footsteps approaching swiftly behind her. Before she had time to react, a hand wrapped itself around her waist, and the other around her eyes. She struggled, cold sweat pouring down her forehead again as fear crept over her.
"Guess who," a familiar voice whispered dangerously in her ear, keeping a strong hold on her.
Arwen whirled around as her captive let her go-but her assailant turned out to be only Aragorn.
"Aragorn!" she exclaimed as her heart rate sped up even more, her cheeks flushing at how close they had been just moments before.
He smiled at her and moved closer. Aragorn's lips seized hers in a sweet, satisfying good morning kiss. But halfway through the kiss, as Aragorn's hands began to feel Arwen's body and bring her face closer to his, the kiss was abruptly broken.
"What's wrong?" Arwen asked in confusion. Her heart whined for a longer, more sensual kiss than what he had just given her.
Aragorn took her soft, smooth hand in his rough, calloused ones and looked at her closely, deeply concerned and worried.
"I am the one who should be asking you that," he said. "Melamin, (my love) why are you covered in sweat?"
Arwen turned away, wrenching her hands away from his.
"N-nothing."she stammered, trailing off. She started down the stairs again but Aragorn grabbed her and whipped her around to face him.
"Something is wrong," Aragorn said. "Tell me, or I will ask Elrond for the strongest truth potion he has in his possession."
With a sigh, Arwen led him to her room. There was going to be a lot to say.