Fo.A 2, June 21st, Mid-Year
All the doors were locked up tighter than they had been in previous years; last year had almost been a disaster. The madness came only once a year, and always on the twenty-first of June.
This year, though, things were different: she was pregnant. She could only pray that when the madness took her, she would not harm the baby; not that she would remember any of it if she did.
Her husband would watch over her while she ranted and raved for hours in the darkness of the little cabin. A soft smile formed on her lips at the thought of him; he'd loved her so well these past years in spite of her fits and her immortality. She had finally let herself conceive as a gift to him, but she hadn't considered facing her madness so close to the due date which was just a week away.
A sudden pain seared her mind, causing stars to burst before her eyes, and she cried out. It was time.
-ll-
Dael sat outside the windowless cabin, tears running down his face, his heart breaking as he listened to his wife call out in a crazed voice about things he didn't understand, nor did he want to. He loved her as she was.
Anxiety gnawed at him, worry growing with each passing hour as he thought of their unborn child. He felt his heart go cold when suddenly the rantings stopped, followed by a piercing scream. "The baby," she screamed. "The baby is coming!"
Dael jumped up, then froze in place. What if she was just saying that to get him to unlock the doors? But if the baby were coming, he would need to help her. Dael swore, and panic began to set in.
When she screamed again, he threw caution to the wind, unlocked the door, and flung it open to see her laying on the floor, breathing heavily. She looked up at him, eyes wide with terror and filled with tears. "Help me," she begged, eyes pleading.
-ll-
The pangs of labor lasted long into the night, and when she woke up to the morning light filtering in through the door her heart quickened. No, no this isn't what was supposed to happen! Something was wrong.
She glanced down, seeing the little bundle that was fast asleep in her arms with its slightly pointed ears and reddish-brown hair.
She went to caress the baby's cheek when she saw the blood on her hand. Her blood ran cold as she looked to her left and saw the body of her husband lying motionless just a few feet away from her, a knife in his back.
The scream came unbidden, which waked the baby, and was followed by uncontrollable sobs. For hours upon hours, she lay there, baby in her arms, and one thought going through her mind: She was cursed.
-ll-
Údar woke up before the sun had begun to rise as was his custom. He bathed quickly, put on the new clothes he'd been provided the previous night, and walked out to a bench that sat on the edge of the fountain where the White Tree stood in the middle. He breathed deeply of the crisp morning air, then waited.
It was subtle at first, the warmth spreading through him, the wind picking up ever so slightly. Údar smiled contentedly. "Hello Father," he said, voice relaxed and at peace for the first time in a while.
Good morning, my son, replied the voice, filling the air around him.
"Things have gone better than I had hoped," commented Údar. "Though, I had planned on having that monster taken care of before now." He frowned.
The presence pulsed around him. You do not know my purposes for him. Do not be so quick to judge what you do not understand, replied the voice in gentle rebuke. He has a destiny to fulfill, just as you do.
Údar sighed in frustration. "I will trust your plan, even though I think someone else would be better suited to the task," he grumbled.
Someone such as yourself? Do not think so highly of yourself, Údar, lest your pride blind you to the path. You are but one in the story that is taking place.
Údar felt the words more than he heard them. "Forgive me, Father," he whispered.
The presence seemed to envelop him, dancing and swirling around him with joy. My son, you know there is nothing you can do that would cause me to love you less. I am the same here as I am in the world you come from.
Údar's heart leaped with joy, and he beamed. "So I've come to learn," he laughed. He could feel the love his Father felt for him, and once again pushed the darkness from his mind. Údar looked towards the lightening horizon. "Will you watch the sunrise with me?" he asked.
Always, replied the voice, a laugh rumbling through the air.
-ll-
Údar watched the growing light in the east, the courtyard waiting in hushed silence. The first rays pierced the remaining darkness, filling Údar with a renewed sense of purpose. It was then he noticed his father's presence slowly withdraw, leaving him smiling.
"Still an early riser I see," came a voice softly from behind.
Údar was pulled out of his thoughts, turning around to see Arwen standing there. He rose and bowed. "My Lady."
"Come now, Elindar, there is no need for such formalities between us," Arwen replied chidingly. "We know each other too well for that."
Údar gave a small smile. "Indeed," he agreed. "But we are still bound to them none the less."
Arwen motioned to the bench, face growing sadder. "May I sit with you and speak freely, as friends?"
Údar's brows furrowed, sensing something wrong. "What is it?" he asked as they sat down, eyeing her with concern.
Arwen's gaze swept the horizon for a moment before asking, "Do you remember when we were young? The world seemed so wondrous, so safe, and the darkness was, but a rumor whispered amongst the elders." Her face looked pained.
"I remember it well," Údar replied, nodding and noting the tears beginning to form in her eyes.
His hand ached to brush them away, to hold her close and ease whatever pains she'd suffered since he'd last seen her all those years ago. Perhaps they could go to the valley and live there until the worlds ending in peace and happiness. But that was nothing but a fantasy and a dangerous one at that.
"I lost a child, Elindar."
Údar snapped from his thoughts and looked at her. The tears were sliding down her cheeks, her eyes locking onto his, and his heart froze. "What?" He wasn't sure he'd heard right.
Arwen looked back to the sunrise, lip quivering. "I miscarried our first child over a year ago," she said again, voice strained. "I kept it a secret from my husband all that time, and it almost cost another man his life because I made him swear an oath of silence." She looked at him, seeing the soft look in his eyes; that look he'd always had when she was upset. "What does that make me?"
Údar smiled sadly, taking her hand in his. "It makes you human."
Arwen leaned her head on Údar's shoulder, taking comfort in his familiar presence. "Do you ever this about us, what might have been?" she asked quietly.
"Arwen, such talk-"
"Please, do not dismiss my question," she said, cutting him off.
Údar fell silent for a moment. "You ask me if I ever think about you," his tone hushed. "I tell you there hasn't been a single day that has gone by that you haven't been on my mind."
He eased her up, looking her in the eye. "But it was not meant to be, Arwen. You and Aragorn were destined for each other. I'm an anomaly, a vapor on the wind, a fleeting moment." He paused, then continued. "The love you have with Aragorn will be talked about for ages to come, and that is something I just cannot give you. What I can offer is my friendship, and even that may be more than my heart can bear."
He fell silent, and Arwen looked at him with a mixture of sadness and respect, then nodded slowly. "Thank you for telling me." She rose and left, casting one last glance back at Údar before she entered the Citadel.
The sun finally came into full view, its golden rays bathing the city in its warmth; but for Údar, all he could feel was the heartache. That, and Their presence with those soundless questions.
"Impeccable timing," he growled, shoving himself up from the bench and walking toward the promontory as if that would shake them. "I shouldn't have to explain myself or anything in my past," he said aloud, drawing a curious glance from one of the Tower Guards, but he didn't care.
For centuries people had thought him crazed, why should now be any different. Údar sighed, reaching the edge of the point that jutted out above the city. "I'm not mad," he said firmly. "In part, I asked for the ability to be forgotten, though I did not fully understand what that would mean at the time."
He braced himself against the low wall. "If you were here, people would think you were mad as well. I suppose at least then I would not feel so alone." Údar hung his head. "What I wouldn't give to go home again, to be known, truly known for me. To hear my name again, coming from those I love. My real name."
He lifted his gaze back towards the horizon, squinting in the morning light. "But not until the End will I be free. Not until the second prophecy comes to pass, though I dread that day, will I finally get to go home."
Údar turned around staring intently as if he could see beyond the veil to where They were. "But enough talk for now. "He smiled slyly. "After all, I'm just a madman."