A/N: So I've had a lovely week, reaching my five-year anniversary with my wonderful fiancee, and finally getting a week off work haha! But this week has been made infinitely better because of all of you guys - my readers. Ailith's story has received 11,000 views, 66 reviews, 63 followers, 38 favourites, and has been added to two LOTR communities. Thank you guys so much. This chapter is to celebrate 50,000 words of this story! :) I hope you enjoy!
Welcome to KyriaFox, Sweetielv, and Tiamaria40 - my new followers!
Thank you to Wonderpanda10, Elves are Awesome, A Diamond in the Rough and FourHorses for your lovely reviews!
xYruniwyliox
Chapter Twenty-five: Engulfed in Darkness.
The darkness was heavy. The clanging and clashing of swords had quieted, and a sudden thud of wood being destroyed permeated the fortress, seeming to echo from the stone carcass of the once vibrant structure. Dawn began to break, as the many riders burst forth along the ramp towards the bulk of the army, swords and armour glinting in the rising sun as shouts and cries of "Forth Éorlingas!" coming from the riders of Rohan.
As the creeping grey light climbed up the wall opposite the window, Liniel worked diligently. She had removed Ailiths' armour, and clothing, and managed to get the elleth into a clean white cotton shirt, which came down to her knees, and some clean breeches. The gaping wound in her abdomen oozed blood, mud and pus, and the wound in her shoulder was black around the edges. Liniel had found a clean white sheet, bundled it and put it beneath her shoulder to staunch the flow of blood. She waited for those who burst from the structure to return, and fidgeted as she counted the seconds.
She paced, and cleaned Ailiths' armour. She paced, then washed the mud and grime from Ailiths' freezing corpse. The elleth was a deadweight. Still. Unmoving. Her hair began reflecting the calming rays of sunlight that now bounced from her autumnal curls. Liniel sighed. Until someone came, there was nothing more she could do for the brave elleth.
You cannot die. You showed me that women are stronger than just wives and childbearers. We can be fierce and deadly warriors. Please don't die.
She repeated the mantra in her mind for what felt like hours. Suddenly, the door burst open and a huge form entered the room. He was filthy, but commanded the attention of the room. Well, the rooms' only breathing occupant.
"The Lady Ailith shall be moved to more appropriate chambers." She voice commanded, stepping aside to allow the two soldiers bearing a stretcher through. They carefully lifted Ailith onto the furs, and carted her from the room. Liniel moved to follow, but the man stopped her. "What is your name?" he asked.
"Liniel of the Éothéod." She answered firmly. He nodded and removed his helm. Her eyes widened and she dropped into a curtsey. "My Lord Éomer." She breathed.
He nodded once and left. Liniel immediately started scouting the corridors to find where they took the elleth, when she bumped into Lord Aragorn. He had a cut above his eyebrow, and seemed to favour his left leg, but other than that and a substantial amount of fatigue, he seemed unharmed. He scowled when he saw her running around the corridors and gripped her upper arms. "Where is she?" he barked. Liniel narrowed her gaze and wrenched her arms from his grasp.
"That is what I am attempting to uncover, My Lord," she hissed. "The Third Marshal had her moved. I am trying to find her again." She snapped. She turned to the Elf beside him. "If you will follow me, I will show you to her." She said. She tried not to notice the unbearable sadness that seemed to have hollowed his beautiful features. She could hear the shuffling around the corner and the sound of a door shutting. She sped up and rounded the corner again, to come face-to-chest with the breastplate of the King. Her eyes widened phenomenally as she dropped to her knees before him. "My greatest apologies….my Liege…" she whispered to his boots. Aragorn knelt and helped her up. "What is the meaning of you moving my sister, My Lord," Aragorn asked politely, but no one could argue there was a bite to his tone.
The King sighed. His golden mane seemed to be greying at an alarming rate. He looked at the Elf and the man – the Heir to the throne of men. "I met the Lady Ailith a few times. You know that Aragorn." At his nod he continued. "The last time she was in Edoras, I was more than a little unkind. Yet, here she is. She is like this, because she fought valiantly for the freedom and safety of my people. I think she deserves a little comfort. Do you not?" he asked. Liniels' eyes widened. Aragorn nodded and allowed Legolas to pass into the Kings' own chambers before him, and approached the chilled, still figure of his sister on the bed.
Legolas immediately fell to his knees beside her. "You made me a promise, meleth nîn. You promised to stay alive. We need to discuss these kisses you insist on capturing me with." He started, his voice firm, but fragile. He squeezed her hand. "Do not go to Mandos' halls. Please. You must not go where I cannot follow." He pleaded. He reached up and unclasped the crystal at his throat. "I am giving this back to you, in the hope you will berate me for it later. You can give it back to me when you awake. Just… please, come back." He whispered, as he attached the crystal around her pale neck, and placed a soft kiss at the corner of her mouth. He stepped away, and turned to leave. "I will find Mithrandir." He said to Aragorn, who nodded once and approached his sister. He beckoned Liniel forward, as the King stood in the doorway and watched.
Aragorn began whispering to himself as he inspected his sister. The wound on her shoulder seemed to have been infected or poisoned, while the wound on her abdomen, which was still bleeding, seemed to be the most problematic. He turned to Liniel and asked her for water, herbs and clean bandages, as he reached for the little pouch of healing herbs he always carried with him. A soft, yet anguish filled smile graced his lips as he remembered the origins of his pouch.
A barely of-age young man bolted through the doors of someones' chambers, before practically flying back out again, panting, a stream of apologies and curses coming from his mouth as the shrieks of an irate elleth echoed down the halls after him. He sat in the gardens, in 'their place', where he waited patiently for her, tapping his thumbs on his thigh, as he put pressure on the wound in his ribs. His breathing became laboured and he hung his head. Soft footfalls on the grass alerted him to someone arriving, but he slouched forward, only to be caught by two soft, slender hands. "Eru Estel! What in all of Arda have the twins gotten you into this time?" a voice chimed. He sighed.
"Mae Govannen, Ailith…I got stung…by…something…" he breathed. She gently laid him on the ground and moved his shirt up to have a look, as she reached into a small pouch at her belt. The treatment was swift and painless, and Ailith even gave him a few leaves to stew for the pain. "Thank you Ailith…" he said.
The next morning, a sharp prod to his healing wound woke him with a yelp. The curtains were opened in his chambers, so that the rising sun shone in his face. "Get up." Barked a firm voice. "A-Ailith?" he stammered, his young eyes focusing on the elleth who stood in his window. "Up, Estel, or I fetch a tankard of ice water." She threatened. He bolted up, wincing and dressed as she waited for him outside. He joined her and she shoved a leather pounch in his hands. "Come. You are to learn herblore with me this morning." She announced.
Ever since, he'd carried that very same pouch, stuffed with as many healing herbs as he could fit inside it. He busied himself with making a poultice for Ailiths' weeping shoulder, as he waited for Liniel to return. A short moment later, Liniel returned, accompanied by the White Lady of Rohan herself. Éowyn carried a huge cauldron, as Liniel set about kindling a fire, before the enormous vessel was settle atop the flames. Several maids carried buckets of water in and filled the cauldron, as Liniel and Éowyn began tearing strips of fabric, and rolling them into neat bandages.
Setting his shoulders square, he began cleaning out the wound in Ailiths' abdomen, and sewing it shut. Her face remained as still and cool as marble. An ounce of panic set in, when he thought he saw her lips begin to turn blue, and he hurried his meticulous stitching, before asking the ladies to roll her on her side, so that he could clean and disinfect the wound on her shoulder. It looked like a ripped and ragged burn. The size of a Warg pawprint, and it was jet black. The wound festered, and an unpleasant smell began to seep from the wound. Aragorn held in a choked sob, before he began his work.
Several hours later, Legolas returned, along with Gandalf, who immediately came to the elleths' side. Aragorn had just finished cleaning and covering her wound, the clean poultice being replaced every hour, when it had turned black, after drawing out the poison that was festering in her system. Gandalf looked at her fondly, before moving the ranger away with a wide sweep of his arm. He gently placed his hand over the elleths' eyes, and began murmuring. He raised his staff in his other hand, and Legolas began to approach the bed. Liniel stood beside him.
"You care for her a great deal?" she enquired. He nodded. "More than my own life." He replied. "I have tread this earth for more than three thousand years. I have done and seen many things. Never have I felt such fear, nor have I felt loss so deeply." He said. Liniel looked up to him, her sage coloured eyes taking in his appearance. He seemed to have aged. He had frown marks and worry lines. His cheeks seemed hollow. "Are you well?" she asked him softly. He shook his head.
"My kind are different from Men," he explained. "We can live for millennia. We are immortal, but not invulnerable. We have better stamina and need little rest. We can be killed – by poison, blade or any weapon, and also, we can perish from a broken heart." He finished sadly. He made to explain more, but a firm hand on his shoulder from the Third Marshal stopped him.
"I do not think that to be your fate, my friend." He said, looking to the coppery shining curls visible from the pillow. "She will not go so easily. But she is precious. She will make you wait." He said, a rueful smile on his face. "She was a big part of my adolescence." He said, turning to his sister, who smiled and nodded. "She is strong," Éowyn added. She stood. "Come, Liniel. Arphenion was injured, and is looking for some company." She smiled. Liniel nodded, and moved, as Éomer escorted his sister and Liniel from the room.
"She is not dead," came the sage voice of the Wizard in the room. "But, I fear she is not out of peril yet. The rest must be up to Ailith. She will have a choice before her, and whether or not she decides to wake, is up to her." He said.
Sounds and swirls of blacks and greys dotted across her vision. The Battle! The Battle of Helms Deep! Her whole body and mind felt numb as she tried to remember the shattered fragments that led to her unconsciousness. A bright white light suddenly shone. "Ailith." The voice called. "It is time to wake, child. There are people here who worry for you. Do not tarry. You must conquer this trauma and awake." It demanded.
The darkness swirled once more, and began taking shape. There were greens and browns and silvers, as the moonlight permeated the forest she was in. The enormous trees proved the location to be the Golden Wood. Ailith took a step forward, a hissing sound behind her alerting her to the face that she was clad in a flowing, silver gown that trailed behind her. She moved a hand to her hair, which was perfectly curled, and falling down her back, the fiery ringlets a contrast to the soft silvery moonlight that reflected from her dress. Her circlet sat proudly on her brow as she glanced around.
A phantom pain thudded painfully in her side and on her shoulder, and she found her face ached too as she wandered the wood. The leaved began falling around her, turning from their beautiful green to a rusty, fiery combination of reds, oranges and yellows.
Good evening, penneth.
Ailith turned at the intrusion to her mind. A beautiful figure stood before her, in a clearing. She wore a gown of sage that flowed from her hips to the floor around her. Ailith approached the elleth, her curious gaze drinking in the sights around her.
Who are you? And where am I? I was in a battle…am I dead?
She wondered. The elleths' lips twitched upwards. No penneth, you are not dead. At least, you have not decided whether you are dead or not. The choice is up to you. She said. She smiled, her blue eyes shining with unshed tears.
My darling Ailith, you truly have grown into a beautiful elleth. I am so proud of you. She started, wrapping her slender fingers into Ailiths' fiery hair. Ailith stared at the elven maiden in shock, her eyes glassy.
Naneth? Is it really you? She wondered. The blonde nodded. Aye it is. It brings your father and I great joy to see you have been well cared for. You have grown up to be so beautiful, my daughter.
This proved too much for Ailith, and she clutched her mother to her and began crying softly.
I am sorry I ran away naneth. I do not even recall leaving you. I was so scared of being alone.
Do not worry, penneth. Everything happens for a reason. Now, tell me all of your prince.
Ailith smiled, and wiped her eyes. She began telling her mother all of the Prince she had fallen in love with.
A short gust of wind caused Ailith to turn and come face to face with a young man, wearing a cloak of midnight blue, the lower half of his face obscured by a bushy red beard. He regarded her with kind eyes, and Ailith knew this was her father.
Dear one, you must not be sad for us. You must return to your life now. You are needed still. We are always with you and watching, but it is time to go now. You must fight. Fight and wake up.
Ailith doubled over as a great pressure appeared on her chest. She stumbled and fell to her knees. She looked at her parents. This was the only chance she had to farewell them properly.
I love you, both of you. Stay with me. Please. I am frightened.
They both nodded, and took a hand each. The pressure came again, which caused Ailith to be dizzy. Her vision blurred, as tears streamed down her face, and her parents disappeared. She was once more engulfed in darkness.