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Chapter Ten

A piercing shriek filled my head - a red glow blinding me. Fear built up inside me as the dark lord's voice filled my brain, it buried itself within each thought, each memory I had.

My father stood bravely in front of Dylora's gates as the armies of Sauron rushed towards him. His graying hair flowing in the wind, my four brothers by his side. Each of them showed no fear as the gates crashed towards them. They fought as best they could, my father was stabbed straight through the chest, before being stabbed again in the throat. Bold crimson ran down his neck, over his clothing - covering the pendant my mother had given him. He was left there, amidst the screams of my city as rubble from the houses that once stood proudly, crushed him. His deep blue eyes grew cold and empty, "Drendithiel," He whispered, the sound of his familiar voice ringing in my ears as he took his last breath.

"You will die, as did your father," The pure evil shrieked around me.

"I will not die by your wish," I tried to speak, but words were hopeless. He was in my head - he knew the fear that I felt, I had no chance to lie to him now.

"The Light of Dylora will be replaced by darkness and you will answer only to me. If you step close to this war, Drendithiel Valarian, I will have you as my own…pet. Yes, my pet. I will use you to kill your beloved man…" His hissing continued, "I will use you to kill the Heir of Isildur, yes," Sauron finished, the sound of his voice making me sick to my stomach, as it had done each and every time he had infiltrated my thoughts.

Before I had time to panic, I was shaken away from his words - my eyes opening to a golden light and the sound of waves lapping against the walls.

I gasped for a breath, the ache in my head causing my ears to burn as I gripped at my throat - the skin was in flames.

"You awaken," Aragorn's familiar voice filled me with a sense of relief and I couldn't help but throw my arms around his shoulders, tears fell from my eyes in quiet, breathless sobs. My hands tangled tightly at the back of his neck and in his hair as I breathed in the warm scent of his skin. Slowly, his hands pressed against my back as I cried.

"The sight of my fathers death will drive me to madness," I wept, "I cannot see so much death, so much defeat," My voice was muffled by his cloak and I pulled away from him, my eyes feeling puffy and blood shot.

"I am so sorry, Aragorn," I said, my voice dry and croaky.

"Do not apologise," He replied gently.

"No, you do not understand," I continued, "Sauron knows that you have arrived, that you are going to take back the white city."

With that news, Aragorn's eyes grew wide, colour drained from his face and looked towards the ground.

"I had no defenses, please understand this, if nothing else. I did not give up the information of my own will," I begged.

He took a few moments before he spoke again, his eyes met with mine as he stood from his kneeling position in front of me, "I am pleased you have awoken, Drendithiel." Was all he said before he turned from me, exiting the room and closing the door. I curled up on the makeshift bed, drawing my knees to my chest and I allowed tears to fall freely from my eyes.

I gathered my things, the Angainor Chain wrapped tightly around my arm, the horn of the huntsman hanging around my neck. I tied my hair into a loose braid down my back and changed into a pair of trousers and a white shirt - my only armor consisting of the pendant around my neck and the hope that no one would manage to get to me before the Angainor got them. I placed my sword in its hilt at my hip and made my way out of the cabin I had been in. The decks were empty, land wasn't yet in sight, but the scent of death was near.

I struggled to ignore the heat that built up in my skin as we got closer and closer to the battlefield. I looked off into the distance, closed my eyes and allowed the cool wind to blow over my face.

I was disturbed my footsteps behind me, a figure came to my side - but I didn't need to open my eyes to recognise who it was.
"I never said that I was going to be of great use in this war," I said quietly, "I only begged you to let me fight, so that I could die in the same way my family did. The same way my people died."

"I won't let you die," Aragorn said, "Gandalf told me not to trust you, I went against his wishes. I have seen the gentle nature of your heart." He looked over to me, a calm expression on his face.

"Do you regret trusting me?" I asked, almost not wishing to hear the answer.

"I have said it before Dren," He paused, the slightest of smiles tilting the corner of his lips upright, "I trust you with my life."

Moments passed in silence as the waves rolled against the boat calmly, it was easy to forget that we may be sailing towards our death.

"I fear I must ask you one thing before we reach war, Aragorn," I began, turning my face to look towards him. He nodded in acceptance, a frown penetrating his brow.

"Does a woman wait for your return?" I asked, having to force my eyes to leave his as my cheeks blushed red with heat. A heaviness filled the air but I had no reason to feel guilty - I needed the answer, I needed to know if I stood a chance.

Aragorn sighed, a low, exhausted sound that made me chew nervously on my bottom lip as I waited for his reply.

"At one time, I thought I did," He began, his voice taking on a new kind of emotion, "No woman waits for me now, my heart holds no ties." His eyes moved down to mine and I exhaled in relief - until I thought of his words. His heart holds no ties.

I stepped back from my, folding hair behind my ear - the Angainor Chain tightening around my forearm as I moved, it seemed entwined with my emotions. Right now, I felt fear…the fear of what it was I was experiencing. What feelings did I have for him? Did my own heart hold ties to Aragorn?

"Your eyes speak of sadness," Aragorn's brow furrowed as he spoke.

I didn't know how to reply, how was I supposed to answer? I didn't even know what was tugging deep in my stomach every time he spoke to me, every time his eyes locked with my own.

"I feel like I owe you an apology," I began.

"For what actions?" He questioned, confused.

"You have no time for such trivial conversations, you prepare for war, for the death of your own men…and I converse with you as if the day is long and bright," I shook my head, struggling to believe my naivety. I stepped back more so from Aragorn, but this time his hand reached for mine, pulling me back to him.
"Dren," His voice wrapped around my name just as his hand held mine, and I felt a warm pull in my chest, a flutter of butterflies filled my stomach.
"You have taken me away from the darkness that fills my mind, even if just for a moment. For that you owe me no apology."