Here I am, back with a new chapter! I really do hope you like it! Thank you very much to Elessar's Daughter for your review, I'm very happy you enjoyed the beginning of my story and I hope you keep on enjoying it!

Please, tell me what you think about this new chapter!


Chapter 4 : Advices And Visions

"Slaves?"

There was a hushed whisper shaking the whole crowd gathered in the great hall of stone. Eldarion's story was already shaking their knowledge of Middle-Earth and the lands beyond their borders.

Eldarion nodded at Faramir's shocked question.

"What did you do then?" Eomer asked, leaning on his chair towards the man before him.

"We took the children to the house we walked to, and their child came home safely."

"What about the others?"

"All except for Clea had a family living nearby. We left them in the house, the child's parents would take them to their own home the next day."

"And Clea?"

"Her farm had been attacked, it was further in the lands, closer to Rohan. So, we took some time to go there and look for her family."

"What did you find?"

Eldarion heaved a tired sigh, and for a moment, his shoulders seemed to bend under a heavy weight he had to carry and usually hid away from strangers' eyes. But it looked like this time, the burden was too heavy for Eldarion to cheat his audience, and the mask cracked slightly as his eyes became sadder than before.

"There was not much to be found," he answered elusively.

"What did you find?" Aldir asked more loudly, repeating Eomer's words, but with an acid tone.

Eldarion stared right into the eyes of this man who accused him, of this man who made him lose so much time, when he had none to spare.

But as his chocolate eyes travelled through the room, Eldarion could read the truth in the Lords' gazes.

They would not stop asking this question.

He had no choice but to speak.

And so, he spoke…


Five years earlier

Ana's soft gaze fell on the form of this child, asleep and cowered near the fire. For the seventh night in a row, Clea couldn't sleep, except if Eldarion held her, her fears too strong for her to close her eyes and find any rest.

The Witch looked at Eldarion's fingers soothingly stroking this child's hair as he slowly swayed back and forth to lull her to sleep. Ana could see Clea's eyes moving at the rhythm of her dreams under her closed eyelids. She had found rest, eventually…

When Ana looked up again, Eldarion was staring at her, a worried expression covering his graceful features. So, she stood up, crossing the shadows that separated them, and came to sit next to Eldarion.

"Why are you worried? Do you have nightmares again?" Ana asked the Prince softly, her voice a mere whisper to avoid waking up the girl in Eldarion's arms.

But the man shook his head, his eyes drifting towards the rest of the guardians, all deeply asleep.

Above their heads, the trees had left the skies, the small hills now covered with nothing but a yellowish grass and scattered rocks, instead of the many bushes that Ithilien offered. They were walking closer to Rohan, and should reach Clea's house the next morning. But for now, shadows coloured the inky sky, and it seemed that they had conquered Eldarion's soul as well.

"What are we going to do with her?" he asked in a breath.

"We are going to take her to her parents, and all will be fine," Ana reassured him.

But he shook his head.

"Have you ever felt… like something terrible was about to happen?"

She stared at him with a stern glance, but nodded.

"I feel… I don't think that we will find anything good there."

"It is just a thought, El."

"It's more than that. Call it intuition, if you will… but I know that we shall find no shelter for her in her old home. And then… what are we going to do with her? We cannot take her with us further. We still have a mission to complete, a mission that seems more and more important as we find new clues towards this 'G'."

But instead of replying to his question, Ana looked up at the sky.

"Gandalf taught me the name of all the stars above," she told him instead of answering him. "He said that they were the only living things we could rely on. They rose and set without faltering, just like the sun and the moon. And always took the same path, to make sure that we could use them to guide our own steps through the world."

He looked at her again this time, listening in silence, wondering what she meant to say.

"Some say that our fates are written in the stars. Some go as far as to say that one who would be wise enough could read the future in the heavens. But I don't think that it is possible. I think that we must find our path on our own. No one will pave the road in our stead, and we will just stumble and fall if we don't rise and try harder and harder, as more obstacles are set on our course."

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the whole universe shrank to watch this scene. It felt like this to Eldarion, at least.

"Do not underestimate the power of chaos," Ana went on. "Coincidences… they are what truly govern our lives. Meeting a person rather than another is just a long line of decisions, leading both you and this person at this precise place, for this precise moment. And the stars have nothing to do with it all. It's just you, El. You and your choices will shape your future, and the futures of so many people you are yet to meet or miss. I do believe that we can sense danger. But none of us can see the future. Not really. The ones who claim to have the gift of foresight merely see a possibility. As long as events didn't happen, they are not carved in the stone, and they can still be changed. Be careful with your instinct. It might not always be right."

"So… do you think that we will find her parents tomorrow?"

"I don't know, El. That's the point. I do not know, and there is no way for me to guess. We shall see. I hope we will, but I suppose that if there is no one left there, we will have to take care of this child for a little longer."

"I really do hope that my intuition is failing me this time."

Ana gave him a sad smile, but didn't answer anything as her eyes drifted back to the child Eldarion still cradled in his arms.

And she hoped he was wrong too.


Eldarion was carrying Clea again. A fragile little form wrapped in his strong arms. The long walk carrying his pack and the child was becoming tiring, his muscles aching and sweat glistening upon his brow as his breaths grew shallower. But instead of complaining, he kept on walking in silence. Eoden offered to carry the girl for a while, but the child shook her head, and Eldarion couldn't bring himself to put her down. She still seemed afraid, too afraid for Eldarion to refuse to carry her. When they finally reached a path known to Clea, Eldarion could see her face brighten with hope.

And he focused all his strength and all his will to hope that her house could still be here. That she would be welcomed by her family and that all would be well.

She had suffered enough for a lifetime. And if he was to be honest with himself, Eldarion was growing fond of this little child. And yet… yet he still had this dreadful feeling tightening his heart.

And the more he walked, the stronger this feeling became.

Ana and Adhalan decided to walk further on, taking a look at what was to come on the road, as Eldarion was starting to lose his casual pace.

But as Ana caught the first signs, her heart froze in her chest. And judging by the way her friend slowed down by her side, the elf had the same reaction.

First, many footsteps on the path. Grass stamped and branches broken and earth turned into mud. The prints of hooves were added in the midst of the traces left by men.

Then, the first signs of fire. Ashes caught in the leaves of the rare bushes around them and in the mud under their feet.

And when they finally reached the house, it was to discover ruins blackened by fire.

Ana heaved a painful sigh, her heart aching. But there was nothing she could do…

They were too late.

"Go back to the others, there's no need for the child to see this," she ordered Adhalan. "I'll look for her family."

The elf silently turned around, sorrow painted on her features, but not a word passed her lips. There was no need to speak, after all.

Ana walked further on, closer to the devastated house. She recognized what should have been crops on her right. Upon her left, the distant mountains pierced the sky, their white tops contrasting with the pale blue of the sky. Before her, the house was completely destroyed. The roof was gone, along with most of the walls. A few pillars remained standing, darkened by flames that were already dead. Judging by the absence of any scent, Ana guessed that the house had been destroyed several days before. Perhaps when the child had been taken.

She walked through the ruins, but there was no trace of a body inside. And for a moment, the hope that the child's parents could have survived made her heart quicken.

She walked around the house, catching the sound of some of her companions approaching. But she didn't wait for them, and walked behind the house alone.

She didn't need to go very far to find was she was so afraid to discover.

The two bodies had been burnt just like their home. She easily recognized the skeletons of a grown man and woman. She found the tip of an arrow between two ribs of one of them, and a large mark across the skull of the other, leaving the causes of their deaths obvious. With a gesture of her hand, she covered the bodies with earth and grass, and made niphredil grow on the two tombs.

She recognized the light steps of Eldarion as the man walked to her. She heard his steps slowing down as he advanced towards her, until his movements sounded reluctant. Because he knew the answer to the question he asked next.

"Did you find her parents?"

Ana nodded slowly.

"They're here. I took care of them. Their tomb will not be disturbed."

She saw him clenching his jaw, his fists closing into fists, and in his eyes, there was a burning rage mingled with pain that she found dangerous. But when he spoke again, his voice was cleared of any trace of anger, and was merely lower and deeper than usual.

"What are we going to do with Clea?"

"We can't take her with us."

"We can't abandon her. She is merely a child."

"We need to find an orphanage."

Ana turned to him, fully facing him, and rested her hand on his shoulder. But his eyes remained fixed on the pale flowers covering the tombs before him.

"There is nothing more that we can do for her. Nothing, El. We cannot take her with us further on our journey. She will be safe in an orphanage."

He slowly nodded, knowing that the witch was right. But he could not help the feeling that tightened his heart that he was failing this child that trusted him so blindly. He wished he could save her parents, he wished he could do something… anything… but his mind was blank, and indeed, he knew there was no way for him to help her furthermore.

"Let's go. There is nothing to be saved here," Ana added, already walking towards her companions.

And Eldarion soon followed her steps, unless he walked to the house before joining the rest of the Guard. He walked towards the ruins of what had been a home. He painted upon the broken table the sight of a child and her parents eating and laughing happily. Upon the bed he drew the form of Clea under white sheets, listening to her mother telling her stories to bring her a night of sleep filled with dreams…

Upon the house devastated by fire, he painted this life Clea had lost and that her home had sheltered, until now.

He wondered how he could tell her that her parents were gone…

He felt that he was walking on something, and he looked down, searching for the object he had set a foot upon. And this time, he felt tears stinging his eyes, tears that he barely managed to hold back.

He bent down to pick up a burnt doll. The straws used to make the toy crumbled under his touch, turning into a white dust that slowly fell onto the floor. A blue piece of fabric had been used to make a dress, but there was nothing to be saved of the toy. Softly, gently, he put it down upon the child's bed.

He turned around and walked out of the ruins with his head high, but his heart broken.


Ana had her eyes closed. The last thought that she could remember was the image of Eldarion as he told Clea about her family. The pain and denial in the child's gaze, desperately searching through Eldarion's eyes if he was lying, or if the nightmare was true. The memory made her jump upright, opening her eyes as quickly as she could.

But instead of finding the fire she and her companions had made, and the sleepless forms of her friends lying in the dry grass, she opened her eyes only to blink to a vivid white light of the full moon.

She knew right away that she was lost in a dream. A dream that always changed and yet was always the same. She was always sitting on the little bench set right outside Bag End, the peaceful landscapes of the Shire splayed before her, the great trees covering a starry sky. The tall Mallorn that had replaced the party tree destroyed by Saroumane and his servants many years before was in full bloom, its golden flowers shining under the moonlight. And next to her was the tall figure of Gandalf.

And in her dreams, he was still cloaked in grey, final proof that the whole scenery was made only by her doubting mind. Still, the vision was so vivid, she wondered sometimes if he could be able to reach out to her from the White Shores.

He smiled at her with mischief, before setting his gaze on the peaceful fields and smials once more.

"It is good to see you again, Ana."

"You are only in my head."

"Am I? And if so, is it important? My voice rings in your ears as if I was still before you in flesh and blood. So, does it really change anything to the power of my words?"

She shook her head. She couldn't help it, the way she always listened to him and always longed to see him when she needed advices.

"Why are you summoning me this time, Ana?" Gandalf asked, as the Witch was heaving a sigh.

"I worry about the child we have found," she admitted.

"Clea? Oh, yes… It sounds like you indeed, to worry about children most of all."

"She has lost everything. I do not want to leave her behind, but I cannot see any other way to help her."

Gandalf slowly nodded but remained silent, taking a long pipe from under his cloak, and filling it with what Ana recognized as the best pipe-weed of the Shire. As he ignited the plant, she imitated him, taking her own pipe and her little bag filled with Longbottom Leaf.

Gandalf let out a long blow of blue smoke, that he shaped like a dragon flying towards the night.

"I know that you have always longed to help. It has led you into many dangers already, this will of yours to do good," Gandalf finally broke the silence between them. "And I must admit… that I feel proud that you have never lost this desire to do good, despite all the darkness and evil we have faced together."

"I don't know what to do, Gandalf…"

"Doubt was always your enemy, and yet it is also your most loyal companion. Do not doubt your value. Many decisions that you have taken and will take will bring more questions than answers. But what we long to accomplish is rarely what we can do. And wisdom is a cruel ally we must rely on."

He turned to her, finally meeting her gaze.

"You have taken the right decision. It is the only one you can take."

"I don't want to leave her in an orphanage."

"Then she will most surely die on the road following you and your companions. Is that better than bidding her farewell?"

Ana shook her head, blowing out a cloud of smoke.

"What is right is rarely what is easy," Gandalf gave her a sad and compassionate smile.

"I wish you were here, Gandalf," Ana let out in a shaky breath. "I wish… I wish you could help me again…"

"Everything has a time to live, and a time to die. I have walked across Middle-Earth for many lives of men. It was my time to leave. And I am grateful, for I had a lot of time here, and a lot of time with many people I loved dearly. You included."

Ana smiled up at him, even if there were tears in her eyes.

"I wonder how Eldarion will react when he and Clea will have to part," the witch changed the subject.

"He seems fond of children. Just like you. He will need your help, and you will need his."

"What do you mean? That I will need him with Clea?"

But Gandalf merely smiled, before letting out another dragon made of smoke…

… and the next second, she was sitting up in a hurry, her breathing laboured and brow covered with sweat. Eldarion was kneeling by her side, a worried expression upon his features.

"Is everything alright, Ana?" the Prince softly asked. "You had a nightmare, I had to wake you up."

"I'm perfectly fine, thank you, El. You did right to wake me up."

"You… you kept on calling for Gandalf… would you like to tell me what happened in your dream?"

She gave him a grateful smile.

"I am just fine now. Thank you. Maybe one day, I will tell you about my dreams, but not for now."

Eldarion merely accepted her decision with a nod, before lying down on the ground again and covering himself with a warm blanket.

And Ana did just the same, closing her eyes once more in an attempt to find a few more hours of rest before the sun would rise.

But again and again, the last words of Gandalf kept on repeating themselves in her mind, and she couldn't help but wonder what they meant.

What task was so important for her to achieve and for which Eldarion's help would be essential?


Minas Tirith

The afternoon was already dying. Dark clouds stretched across the sky and darkened as the sun sank beyond the mountains. Eldarion's tales took a long while to be told, and all the Lords gathered in the great halls of Minas Tirith could feel tiredness weighing onto their shoulders. It was time to call for a good night of rest. The second Faramir declared the end of the trial for the day, the guards stepped next to Eldarion to close the chains around his wrists again. The prince didn't try to resist, he merely gave a sad smile to his guards as they guided him outside.

Through the corridor that had seen him grow into a man, he walked now in chains and with armed soldiers surrounding him. But all along, he walked with his head high, not throwing a single glance to these people who kept on staring at him as he passed before them. He had learned to keep his stature proud despite chains.

They led him to his room once more and only unchained his hands once he was inside. His untouched meal had been cleaned away and a brand-new plate filled with a piece of bread, cheese and ham again was set on the table. Once more, a glass of wine was set by its side on the wooden surface.

Again, once the door was closed, Eldarion didn't hear the soldiers walk away. They were remaining on sentries for the night, he guessed. He walked directly to the window, ignoring the meal that had been brought for him.

He wasn't hungry. He was too worried for that. The dark clouds mingled with the shadows of the night hid the line between the Ephel Duath and the sky. The horizon was just a wall made of darkness. He wondered, for a moment, if that was what his future would look like.

A shadow that covered everything and blurred the lines between Heaven and Hell…

A small smile graced his lips. He knew what awaited after this world. He had seen the white shores before, just a glimpse, but enough to know that a place there was saved for him. And the thought of having a chance to be with her, at least in this world that would come after Middle-Earth, warmed his heart enough to turn his sad smile into a bright one that reached his eyes.

He hadn't talked to his father about her yet. He hadn't talked about what had happened in the Eastern Lands, he hadn't talked about what they had discovered there, he hadn't talked about what was coming…

He needed to see his father, and he needed to do it fast. Fast enough to get ready, fast enough to be prepared. Fast enough to save them all…

His eyes fell upon the white stones that formed this city he called home.

Was it still home though? Did his home had to be just there, carved in the stones of this mountain he knew like the back of his hand? Couldn't it be here, but there, so far away, as well? How could he just choose one?

He started as someone knocked on his door. And as he focused, summoning all his senses, he finally realized that not two or three, but only one man was breathing in the corridor now.

Someone could have knocked out the two guards?

Perhaps, but Eldarion was not afraid. He had faced so many dangers… he was not afraid to die anymore.

He walked slowly to the door, but waited for it to be opened. He didn't have the key. After all, he was still a prisoner, even if he was in his bedroom.

When the door opened, he noticed right away that the two guards had disappeared. And when his eyes fell on the tall silhouette before him, no matter if the man was wrapped in a dark cloak, Eldarion recognized his father immediately.

It was silently that the Prince let the King enter his room. He was at a loss for words all of a sudden, him who had longed to see his father for so long, who needed to talk with this tall man about so many subjects… now that Aragorn was here, Eldarion couldn't bring himself to let a single sound pass his lips.

Aragorn closed the door behind him, before advancing through the room. He didn't look at Eldarion as he walked to the window, throwing back the hood that hid his face. Clearly, the King didn't want anyone to know that he had visited his son, but Eldarion could hardly blame him, even if the gesture broke his heart.

They remained motionless for a while, Aragorn staring at the landscape splayed before him even if his eyes could see nothing of the mingled shadows and golden lights outside, and his son staring at his father's back, too scared to speak for now. Silence was the only sound in the room. One could have thought that time itself had stopped in the old Prince's chamber.

But eventually, silence was too loud for Eldarion to take, and when he broke the heavy walls between himself and Elessar, it was with a shushed voice, trembling with apprehension.

"Ada?"

The word brought tears to Aragorn's eyes. How many times he had heard this word spoken by his only son in his dreams during these past five years… he had lost count. And yet… yet now that the voice was true, all he could hear in his son's tone was fear and sadness, these two emotions he wished he could ban from his Realm for eternity.

Slowly, he turned towards Eldarion, his jaw clenched to hold back the tears that threatened to escape, and a stern expression on his kingly features. They stared at each other for a moment, brown eyes diving into grey ones.

"You asked to see me," Aragorn spoke in a neutral tone.

He could read in his son's eyes that this coldness in his voice was hurting him. But Eldarion merely nodded in response.

"We are not safe anymore. We need to get ready," the Prince spoke with a detached voice that matched his father's. "They are coming for us."

"They?"

"Everything we feared to be true happened. Everything we longed to see disappear lasted. We have little time left before war would strike our home."

"What proof do you have?"

Eldarion frowned.

"Do you have so little trust and faith in me now, that you do not believe me at all?"

Aragorn straightened his back a bit more, crossing his arms before his chest.

"You are on trial for murder," he merely replied, and Eldarion heaved a sigh.

"Father…"

"I heard many stories these past five years," Aragorn interrupted his son. "I have pushed them away, for most of them described your actions poorly. But now, this trial puts things back in perspective, and I wonder if I have been right all these years to ignore rumours. After all, now, it sounds like all these whispers were true."

Eldarion clenched his jaw, taking a few steps towards his father. And when he spoke, there was such a fire alit in his dark brown eyes, Aragorn knew it had been forged in the highest dangers and greatest pains.

"It was our wish to remain silent and hidden for five years," Eldarion let out in a shaking breath, that turned angrier and angrier as the words passed his lips. "You sent us to spy, after all. Eren told me about a few rumours. I'm not a drunk. I haven't drunk a single drop of liquor in years. I have fought for five years and lost so many people that I loved and seen so much blood and pain and despair… I have never been perfect, but idleness is not one of my flaws. And now, I am tired. I am tired of wasting time we do not have…"

"You are accused of murder!"

"I have killed so many people that I have lost count by now."

Aragorn didn't answer, his jaw clenching, but not out of anger, out of pain this time.

"It doesn't matter," Eldarion shook his head, his voice calmer, soft now. "What happens to me, what happened during these five years, it doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is that we are in danger. All of us. And we need to get ready to fight."

"No one will believe you."

"Do you?"

Eldarion's breath caught in his throat as his father remained silently staring at him.

"They have an army," the Prince went on. "We need to get ours ready. We've tried to buy you all time, but we can't deal with it all on our own anymore. That's why I came back. To warn you all, to make sure that you would be ready for the war that is to come."

"Sauron was destroyed…"

"Evil can never really be defeated. It lives in all of us, after all. How could we win forever with swords a battle we cannot end in our own hearts?"

Eldarion shook his head again.

"Many have turned in the East. Many are fighting for the light as well. Evil took many forms, but his strongest figure has yet to show itself in our lands. Ada, there is little time left, but we can still stop this. We can still avoid an open war."

"How?"

"If we find their chief and kill him first…"

"Are you talking about murder?"

"I am talking about avoiding a war."

"There will be no murderer in our midst."

Eldarion narrowed his eyes.

"Both our hands are covered in blood, Ada. The blood on mine is just fresher than it is upon yours. We killed the same way, for the same purpose."

"Eldarion…"

"You have no idea what could happen if we don't find this enemy on time. You have no idea, but I do. And if I have to kill a man in cold blood murder to avoid this much pain to destroy our Realm, then I will do it. Without hesitation."

Aragorn's eyes turned sad, suddenly, his expression softening as he rested a hand on his son's shoulder and squeezed it, as if he wanted to make sure that his son was really standing there, and that the world around him was not a mere dream.

"What happened to you?" Elessar asked in a breath.

"Ada, you must trust me."

"You've changed so much…"

Eldarion gave him a smile, but the gesture was not happy, and didn't reach his brown eyes.

"Was it not the point of sending me away? To make me change? To make me grow?"

"Before you left, you would have never seen murder as a possibility…"

"I am too afraid to think about what is right or wrong," Eldarion interrupted his father. "I am too afraid to take the risk of this enemy escaping again. I did it the right way once. Thought that I could arrest him and get out of it all with my hands clean from his blood. And I failed. And now, here we are, with war on our doorstep and an enemy ready to destroy everything and everyone we care about. I made this mistake of showing mercy to a being who has none, I will not repeat that mistake. I have given up on my soul a long time ago anyway, and I am not afraid to die…"

"Do not speak words like these…"

"I am not afraid to die, Ada," Eldarion repeated anyway. "I am afraid to live when all those I care about are dead. I am afraid to be too late. I was too late once, and I lost my best friend. I will not let that happen with our kingdom."

"Eldarion…"

"There is no other way. We need to find our enemy and kill him while we have the chance."

"I will not help you murder a man."

It was Eldarion's turn to rest a hand on his father's shoulder.

"If we can deal with our foe in another way, then so be it. But you were ready to destroy Sauron a long time ago, without mercy."

"It was different."

"It is just the same choice. One life we know is too evil to repent, against our people's lives, innocent lives. I have made my choice, and it is the same that you took long ago."

"You cannot compare Sauron to any other foe we might have to face."

"Oh, believe me, father, I can."