Guys we are over TEN THOUSAND (actually over 11,000) words now! *Throws confetti* Thank you everyone for reading this fic! This is a milestone!
In terms of feedback however, you have been quite the bunch of silent readers this past week. *checks story stats* Yup, and since I haven't asked you this for five whole chapters I deserve some sort of award, but I now ask it.
Review please? Pretty please? I love reading your feedback! It's wonderful motivation! You get cookies!
Now in this newest chapter you will find that another unusual meeting occurs, more things are revealed, an important decision is made and… *hides behind desk-that-is-actually-a-craft-table* no appearance from the Witch-King - but he is mentioned! Several times I assure you!
Read on!
Chapter VI: A Decision of Importance
"It is in your moments of decision that your destiny is shaped." –Tony Robbins
Third Age, 3018
Fall had now fully settled in Middle Earth, the trees of the small forest turning vibrant shades of red, orange, and gold. It had been four months since Inconnu had left the fortress of Minas Tirith, left it in a whirlwind of Sverundr's speed and her own emotions. The months that had passed, time itself, had helped to calm those emotions, but they had yet to silence completely. Inconnu had been leisurely traveling the North-South Road, and not doing much else other than that. She was lost in her thoughts, ones that belonged solely to the Witch-King.
How can it be, that my fate could be so easily decided? What made the stars decide that I was fit to decide the fate of another, a man who fell to the corruption of the One Ring and is the Dark Lord's deadliest servant? Is it even possible that the Witch-King can be redeemed?
These were honest doubts, and they brought some security for Inconnu, but also insecurity as well. All she had ever known was the life of a wandering hunter. The northern parts of the Misty Mountains were familiar to her, as safe for her as it was dangerous for others. It was there she was headed. The day was calm and Inconnu took in a deep breath, the crisp and cool air helping to settle her nerves, to sooth her growing anxiety.
Soon, the sun was setting on the western horizon and Inconnu decided to stop and make camp. She was now only a day's ride from the Gwathló, more commonly known as the Greyflood. After crossing it at Tharbad she would then make her way to Bree to resupply before moving east to the Misty Mountains. Though the supplies from Minas Tirith were indeed plentiful and she still had much left, it was best to resupply anyway for no one could predict the events of long journeys.
The campfire was small, though more than warm enough to keep the nights chill away. Sverundr was fully resting on the ground and Inconnu had taken to her normal practice of resting her back against his side. She was gazing up at the stars, watching them and finding familiar constellations, and oftentimes she would create new ones to entertain an imagination that stayed with her throughout childhood and to this very day remained. It was also the best distraction she could come up with, no longer wishing to think upon fate and the Witch-King. Through this she was fairly successful until she fell asleep, and as she succumbed to it she hoped for no dreams of him.
She was in a frozen and desolate room, large pieces of masonry strewn everywhere. Inconnu looked about herself, and her gaze fell upon a throne carved of stone, covered in a thick layer of ice coated in frost. It was in the exact center of the room, a prominent display of power and dominance. Though empty, she could feel the ominous aura it exuded, and she was willing to bet there was not even a corner unaffected by its presesnce.
"This is the throne room within Carn Dûm, the capital of the Witch-Realm of Angmar."
Inconnu whirled around to see who had spoken, but saw nothing. The voice continued to speak.
"It was here that the Witch-King sat, directing his forces in the purpose of destroying Arnor, the northern kingdom of men. Tasked by his master to break its will and people."
Inconnu once again looked for the voice, and said, "I know of what you speak of, but I must ask you to show yourself. I'd rather we speak face to face, for I find it stranger to talk to a disembodied voice." A chuckle, this time more tangible, sounded behind her and she whirled around to see who made it. Now Inconnu saw someone, a man of great height and was dressed in the furs of a hunter as much as she was. Her subconscious nagged at her, telling her that she should know who this man was. That problem however was quite easily solved when he introduced himself.
"Greetings Inconnu Naeril, Huntress of the North. I am Oromë, the Great Hunter and one of the Aratar."
Inconnu was struck speechless. She had grown up with the tales of the Valar, the gods of Middle Earth, and so being a part of such an experience was simply amazing. Oromë chuckled again. "Please, treat me as a friend even though there were none ever here in this place. Speaking of which, that is the purpose to this meeting." Inconnu snapped out of her daze.
"You wanted to meet and decided to meet in dreams rather than when I was awake?"
"It is easier to communicate this way. Easier for me particularly since I visit Middle Earth more often than my brothers and sisters. However, that time is still limited and we have much to discuss."
Inconnu gave a sharp nod and then asked, "Why bring me to place such as Carn Dûm? Though defeated, Angmar still holds such a dark presence in the North."
Oromë gave a slower nod, one of understanding. "I know, and I also know that you have felt it yet never dared to cross the border into Angmar. You feel sick do you not?" Another nod from Inconnu, and he continued. "That is because it was not time for you to enter Angmar, but that time will come and sooner than you would guess. Now the main topic for what I am here for is what I wish to truly discuss with you: Your fate and the Witch-King of Angmar's. I found this broken throne room a fitting setting for such a conversation. Ask your questions."
His reasoning made sense to Inconnu, and she then asked the questions that came to her first. "Why? Why would my fate be tied to his? Why must I be the one to decide his fate?" Oromë was quiet for a few moments.
"Why indeed? It is, of course, prophecy and such things always come true one way or another. Why you? Because you are the one with the soul that is akin to the Witch-King's." He leaned forward a bit, staring into her grey eyes with his vibrant emerald green ones. "Because you, Inconnu Naeril, are his other half, the light to his darkness, the love to his hate, and the one he most desperately needs."
Oromë took a step back and lightly gestured to the room as a whole. "Beneath the corruption of the One Ring-a dark power that has tainted his mind, heart and soul-he's still there. The corruption is thick, a great prison of greed and power, but inside that cage is a man of honor who wants to be free."
The silence that followed was heavy as Inconnu took in the information, and then repeated her last question in a small whisper, looking down at the ground a little. "Why must I be the one to decide his fate?" Oromë stepped forth and put a comforting hand upon her shoulder, and at this she looked up into his eyes and saw the deep kindness he held.
"Because I can think of no one better than his soul-mate to make such a decision. I can think of no one worthier to free his mind, heart and soul, and no one with more honor to end his miserable existence as a shadow of his former self."
Inconnu took a shaky breath, her mind working to accept these answers. So we are bound together more deeply than I had originally assumed, she thought as she took another breath and stepped back from the Great Hunter. Inconnu looked around the ruins of Carn Dûm, the symbol of the Witch-King's defeat in the North, before speaking her thoughts.
"I don't know what it is to love or to be loved. Only the concept and what I have seen in others. I have never known the love of my father, an Elven man my mother barely mentioned in my childhood when I asked such questions. The care of a mother I have known, but love? That was replaced with knowing how she suffered the regret that I was born and thusly bound to the Witch-King." She looked to Oromë. "I can accept that our souls are tied to each other, but how can I love him if I do not know what love truly is?"
This gave the Vala pause, and it was obvious that he thought on this deeply for what seemed like eternal minutes before he replied carefully, "Love is one of the most unpredictable feelings within any race of Middle Earth and even within the Valar, but in my marriage with Vána I have learned an important fact about this powerful emotion: When given time and a single chance, it becomes the most powerful magic any could ever experience."
Inconnu now though on this, wondering many things. Could she save the Witch-King? Was there in fact still a man underneath the wraith? Was she willing enough to give him the single chance Oromë spoke of? She then asked the Vala, "What would be the worst thing I could do?"
He replied without hesitance. "Nothing. You could do nothing at all and you would lose the chance to save him. All that would await the Witch-King then would be a true death and not one by your hand."
That was all Inconnu needed to hear, and Oromë's emerald eyes shined more brightly when he realized that she had made her decision. He then asked her in a hushed tone, "What are you going to do next Inconnu Naeril?" A gleam in her eyes made itself known.
"I am going to find him, and then I am going to see if I can find the man you speak of."
At this, Oromë gave a great smile. "What is said is done." He looked up a moment before his gaze went back to hers. "I must be leaving now, but I leave with hope. Both for you and him."
"Wait!" Inconnu cried out as he began to fade away but in that instant the dream flashed to darkness.
Inconnu awoke with a start, sitting up and panting. She felt something large shift behind her and whipped her head to look at what is was, only to see Sverundr's large head close up. The stallion snorted, and Inconnu relaxed with a faint chuckle before patting his nose. "It's alright, just a strange dream of great meaning. Or perhaps…" Inconnu took in a deep breath. "A true vision of Oromë, the Great Hunter."
Another snort, and Inconnu shrugged lightly. "Don't worry my friend, besides we've still a ways to go before we reach Bree." She stood before carefully stretching her limbs, and Sverundr did something of a similar nature. The next half hour was dedicated to clean up of the small camp and putting on Sverundr's tack. Mounting the saddle, Inconnu turned the grey stallion to the north and now rode for the crossroads village mere days away.
I love writing dream sequences… *sighs happily*
Don't own LOTR or the Witch-King, but I have Inconnu and Sverundr and that makes it okay!
As a consolation thing for all of you wonderful readers, the Witch-King does show up in the next chapter… so have fun waiting seven whole days for it! XD
And remember: REVIEW!
