After tossing and turning in her bed for a few hours, Arien got up, wrapped her dressing gown around herself and went to sit down on the chaise lounge by the window overlooking the valley. The sky sparkled, devoid of clouds that might block the starlight. But, despite the clear sky, her mind was clouded.
Meeting Rian felt unsettling, the opposite of the joy and excitement she had anticipated. Arien didn't like to admit it, but she expected someone with an aura similar to Elrond or Glorfindel, or at least the twins. Rian was polite but closed off. She didn't radiate the power Arien had hoped, nor did she seem to realize who Arien was. She didn't recognize her kin.
Arien admitted that if she hadn't seen Rian with Gandalf - and had it confirmed by Elrond that she was a Valar - she would not have pegged her as anything other than a Ranger. Her hair was crudely cut above her shoulders, and she had a hardened look in her eyes that Arien couldn't stop thinking about. Why was she so withdrawn? Moreover, why did she not acknowledge who Airen is?
A crash in the trees to the south caught Arien's attention, followed by some shouting. She recognized the voice of Dareth, one of the captains of Elrond's guard, who she knew was coming back from monitoring the patrol of the Southern entrance to the valley. He broke through the trees on horseback, riding hard for the central courtyard.
Without missing a beat Arien was up and out the door, rushing down to meet Dareth as he rode in. Elrond, Elrohir, Elladan, and Gandalf were already there.
"My Lord," Dareth pulled his horse to a halt but did not dismount, "A dark terror is threatening our border, it has followed two travelers from Lothlorien here."
Elrohir and Elladan took off for the stables without another word, but Elrond stayed put.
"Where are these two travelers?" He asked.
"One is wounded, and the other, a woman named Hanna - she claims she has bested it before, in Mirkwood."
Elrond and Gandalf exchanged a look before Gandalf headed back inside. Arien turned on her heel as well, running back to her room and changing into a thick tunic and pair of leggings. She grabbed her riding boots along with a loaded saddle bag and dashed off to the stables. Once there Arien looked for Elrohir and Elladan and saw them exiting the south side, rushing off into the darkness.
"They told me to prepare Berithul for you, Lady Arien," A stablehand approached her, the reins of Arien's horse in her hands.
Arien smiled and thanked her, mounted Berithul, and took off in the same direction as the twins. She caught up to them, and together they rode fast toward the Southern entrance. Elrohir and Elladan had not allowed her to ride out with them before, always insisting that they could handle whatever was happening, that her time to ride out would come. Arien knew that this creature, a 'dark terror,' was the start of her time. It felt fitting that it happened on the night Rian shows up in Imladris.
Shouts rose from the clearing they were approaching, and soon Airen could see the flickers of flames through the trees. She realized as they got closer that the flames were fires the patrolling elves had built in the center of the circle of trees. Next to the fire stood a tall woman with nearly white hair, her arms outstretched. To Arien's surprise, Rian stepped forward to stand by this woman, a long bow drawn with a black arrow in its notch.
"It's retreating into the trees. I'm going to pursue it," The woman with the pale hair, whom Arien assumed was Hanna called out as she made to move out of the circle of trees.
Arien urged her horse forward, stopping the woman in her tracks. "Can you please explain what is going on-"
"There is no time to explain," Rian spoke up, following the movements of the unknown creature with her arrow, "It's getting away."
She ran over to a black horse standing at the edge of the clearing and jumped onto its back, taking off with a yell. Arien immediately urged Berithul to follow, pulling her sword from the saddlebag she'd grabbed in her room. A hundred yards past the clearing she was stopped in her tracks by Rian, who stood a few feet in front of her horse, bow still drawn.
"It stopped moving," She whispered, taking a deep breath.
Arien dismounted Berithul, going to stand beside Rian.
"What is it?"
Rian shook her head, "I'm not sure, but it's making the air cold."
Arien realized she was right. The air had started to turn into mist, and the chill cut through her riding tunic. Tips of tree branches began to frost, the sound of tiny ice crystals forming able to be heard in the silence. Arien thought it odd that the sounds from the camp were gone.
"She's waiting to make her move," The woman with white hair startled Arien, coming out of the trees, her bow drawn as well.
"She? You know it's a she?"
Before Hanna could answer, the mist thickened, and a low hiss crept over the ground.
"Where is the fourth?" The voice was quiet but clear enough that whoever was speaking could have been standing right next to the three of them.
Arien made eye contact with Hanna, realizing who she was, and Hanna's piercing green eyes reflected the same realization.
"Where is the fourth?" The voice was a little louder this time, accompanied by another wave of cold.
"Who is she talking about?" Rian whispered.
"She's talking about me." The three of them turned to see a tall man with dark red hair and a thick bandage on his arm break through the thick fog.
"Taelen, you?" Hanna took a step toward him, "Why didn't you tell me?"
Before he could answer, a sickening laugh echoed around them.
"Foolish of you to reveal yourself," Arien could feel a darkness move toward them with each chilling syllable.
A figure began to take shape in front of them, collecting the mist into a physical form. It was a strange, dark woman. Her eyes were black, as was her hair, and she was shrouded in a floating black cloak. As Arien watched, frozen where she stood, the black cloak expanded into wispy wings, attached to this woman's' back.
Arien knew who this was, though she almost could not believe her eyes. Thuringwethil was a legend of dark times, the lieutenant to Melkor in the first age. Arien had read about her ability to chill men's hearts, but she hadn't realized it meant it would cause a physical chill. Her heart indeed felt clutched by cold, frozen in the center of her chest, and unable to warm the rest of her body.
The woman cocked her head to the right, observing the four of them, her face expressionless. She lazily brushed her hair over her shoulder and shrugged. Taking one step toward the four of them, she flicked her wrist, and the thick air became so dense Arien fought to stay standing. Taelen fell to the ground holding his arm and letting out a scream. Hanna knelt beside him, frantically trying to rouse him.
"Don't move again, or you will regret it," Rian's voice was steady.
"And why would I regret it? I know you cannot harm me." A smirk crept onto Thuringwethil's face.
Taelen was still unconscious, Hanna crying as she held him. Arien could see Rian hesitate, her eyes narrowing. Then she let her arrow fly. It struck the woman in the chest, ice forming around it on contact.
"You're going to have to do more than that, right now you're no more than a mere Ranger."
The arrow turned to dust as the woman took another step forward, but as this happened, Arien stepped in front of Rian and held up her hands. Her palms started to glow, and the cold air sparked with electricity.
"You will move no closer," Her voice shook, and she wished she sounded as confident as Rian.
"Oh? Then I guess it's time for me to go," The woman curled her lips back in a disgusting smile showing sharp, black teeth.
Within a moment, Thuringwethil spread her wings and rose above the treetops, the cold dissipating as she disappeared into the night. The last of the chill inked away from where they stood, but they remained frozen, staring at the spot where the dark woman had vanished. Bits of the smoke that had made up her cloak had stayed, the black tendrils waving in a nonexistent breeze. Arien walked over, kneeling beside them.
"We need to get Taelen to a healer," Hanna said behind her.
"Let's get him back to the camp," Rian replied.
Arien realized that they could hear noises from the camp again, including the sounds of Elrohir and Elladan calling for her. She looked over her shoulder and watching Rian and Hanna carry Taelen through the trees, and then back at the black tendrils. They were fading, looking more grey than black.
Having never seen something like this before, Arien was curious what this substance was. It seemed denser than smoke but more manipulatable than solid matter. Almost like a liquid in the way it waved and blended together. She reached out to it with caution, not sure if she should touch it or not, but before she could pull her hand back, the tendrils reached out and met her fingertips.
The forest was gone, and all Arien could see was darkness. Images formed in front of her, a tall chair and several pillars shaped out of stone. A black shape moved from behind one of the pillars to stand in front of the chair. From the blackness, a hand emerged, and then a body. It was Thuringwethil, and from her cloak, she produced a glowing stone, more beautiful than any Arien had ever seen. She placed the stone on the tall chair - which Arien realized now was a throne - and bowed her head. As she did so, a small rift appeared. More of this dark substance Arien had touched in the forest billowed out of this rift, onto the throne and down its sides. It seemed to shiver before settling, allowing the rift to close.
"You've done well, Thuringwethil," the voice was deep and labored. Arien assumed it was coming from the black substance.
"Thank you, my Lord," Thuringwethil bowed her head.
The space around them shifted, and Arien was looking over a burning city. Shouts, mixed with horrifying cries, sounded all around her. Soldiers ran from battlement to battlement. Darkness loomed overhead, and she could feel despair in the air.
Again, the image changed. She saw her body lying on a long stone table made from the same material as the throne and pillars in the first image. Her body was dressed in a thin white cloth, with silver rings on her fingers and diamonds pinned to her hair. Arien watched as a bright blue light rose from the chest of her own body as it lay before her, illuminating the room and reflecting off of the many gems strewn about on the table.
Arien feared the brightness of the light would blind her, but then it was all gone. The table, her body, the light. She was laying on her back on the forest floor, the stars in the sky visible beyond the treetops. Her body would not move; every limb was feeling heavier than a fallen tree. She tried to shout, but no sound came. The trees above began to spin, her eyes going out of focus and slowly sliding closed. She fought to keep her eyes open, but she only maintained consciousness long enough to hear footsteps approaching her.