Chapter Twenty Five

My dreams taunted and scared me now, I was not aware if I was either awake or asleep. Sometimes I believed I had wakened, only to see strange shadows and grotesque faces dripping like wax at the base of my bed. The screams of my nightmares echoed around the room, I heard hooves pounding against the land and those screams screeching furiously. I saw glowing red eyes in the dark, the shadows merging into billowing capes. The pale ghostliness of the mountains still filtering into my room, but my attention was wholly caught by the sound of the horses and ungodly cries. It seemed they would not stop for any reason, the pounding of my heart matched their pace. I could feel my own breath coming in short gasps, as panic constricted my lungs, I knew they hunted me. Sauron was finally going to claim me as His, but I would be damned if I did not fight for my own life first.

Once when I awoke my room was deathly dark, large looming shadows standing around my bed. A voice so loud and ringing my ears, I ended up clutching my hands to my ears and screaming; though the voice only grew louder and louder, 'Which one has it? Which one?' Sometimes I would wake from the phantoms, Laredith's face, then Gandalf's, then Boromir's appearing above my head, before being lost to the darkness. My skin burned with unbearable heat, then cooled rapidly, so I sweated and shivered as though I had a fever. I dream of walking around Minas Tirith once more, going up each level, until reaching the top and seeing the tree. It burns, fire cracking and licking along the branches.

My body burns with heat, though the air is growing colder. As I look up the canopy of my bed and the roof above they seem to crack open; the inky jet of the sky revealed. But it is not solely dark, the sky is strewn with so many stars and vaguely wish I could be so far away, so distant from the goings-on of this earth. Perhaps if I had remained unborn things would have been different, perhaps the darkness would not be covering this world…would my mother have still been alive, my father? Have all those who died had some blame that could be placed on me, my family and my ancestors? I felt my eyes drifting closed as my mind whirled with thoughts and unnamed fears. Though I was grateful the room seemed blissfully quiet. Little soothed me until I heard her voice, the Lady Galadriel whispered in my mind and I was beyond all reason to know where her voice came from or why it came to me now.

"Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt. You fear the path before you and not the broken shoes upon your feet; do not forget Melusida that it is many paths that make up a road. Fate is not one sole line; it is the chance for many journeys."
"Don't leave me." I begged.
"My daughter is with you and she will always remain so." I suddenly see the Lady Galadriel at the foot of my bed, she holds my mirror in her hands.
"No, it is not safe." I said.
"I have told you, your powers can be used for good or ill, as can your mirror." She runs her hand along the jagged line, two cracks marring the silver surface, "If it breaks again it will shatter. Should you wish it, you can govern your mirror to show you good, to heed your word. But if not…It shall remain without a master, loyal to none."

I reach out towards the mirror, but rather than the surface rippling and my watching, I feel as though I am pulled through. The power both within my mind and without. It is like walking through a waterfall, though my clothes remain dry and as I blink my eyes open I nearly choke on the smell that fills my lungs, something dead and decaying. The walls too near, the mists coiling and whispering over my fingers. The dead King walks back to his lair, he stops suddenly and turns to look at me.
"So here is the witch who cursed our name." he says. His voice echoes around the walls, as though the words are spoken by thousands and not just him alone. I look about me, trying to find the way out, some form of natural light, some forgiving path that will lead me out of here.
"They know my answers, it is nay. Why should we hold a debt to a man who used an evil power, a witch's spell? There is no honour in that." he says.

"Why? You know where your duty lies, why do you seek to remain in darkness, in rotting agony?" it is a woman's voice, strong and clear, her voice commanding respect. I twist about looking for Her, looking for Melusine. When I turn back the King looks on me with interest, a cold smile cracking his lips into skeleton teeth. "Magick knows neither the concept of good or evil, it will just follow the master's bidding. Isildur chose this fate for you because you lacked any concept of honour and fealty."
The King lets out a small growl, his blank eyes fixed on mine, "Why Melusine do you send this child to speak your words? You use her tongue as your own. Show yourself to me."
I hear Her laugh, mocking, rich, wonderful.
"For she is my child, my daughter, the one who carries my gift and you will obey her as you would obey me and Isildur. Obey the heirs of our bloodline; we have come before you now to demand your loyalty."

"I am not one to be commanded to obey a witch." He flies towards me, raising his sword as he does and as I reach towards my belt I realise I am unarmed, I flinch as the blow comes down towards me. But then she is there before me, the fabric of her silver, ethereal dress is like water, flowing around her feet, gliding pale in the air. Her dark hair drifts in the wind, though there is no fresh, sweet air that blows here. Her arms and face are pale, the beauty of her almond shaped eyes and the points of her ears make her seem more unreal, more fair. She gestures with her arm and the King falls to his knees, as though when her arm reached out she hurt him.
"Do as we wilt, for we have commanded your allegiance and you know our words to be true."
He remains at her feet, breathing heavily, she deftly touches his shoulder and he looks up.
"I can see why the King fell in love with you." he snarls.

She removes her hand and steps back apace. "Such things are worthless to speak of now. Go to the future King, go to Isildur's heir. Melusida will see to it that your oaths are fulfilled."
It was as though a cold rush of air suddenly ran through my body, as though my blood froze and the dank smell made me put my hand over my mouth, yet still I smelt it. She came to my side and the air felt clearer, it was as though I were standing by the river of my home again. There was something so sad and lost within her eyes.
"I never intended it to happen, I never sought his attentions."
"It seems our curse." I said.
"It is our fate and not something to scorn or despise, but we must ensure it is our own."
I wanted her to hold me, to have her arms around my shoulders and to kiss my forehead like my mother. But when I reached out to touch her, her arms were not fleshly or real. She smiled though.

"Do what you must do and I will do what I can to protect you. May the Rivers guide you." She said, her hand outstretched towards me as though she offered me something and I could feel something fill my clenched fist.

First things first, many thanks to Slienmachine for the gorgeous picture of Melusida and thank you for letting me use it as the cover picture.
Thank you to M&N and Certh for reading and reviewing (especially with my wobbly tenses) :) and to everyone else for reading.
This update is in celebration of the said lovely picture and also because I'm almost finished with TGotR, so potentially my posting may speed up a tad just because I want it done and out the way, so I can finish my other stories and get cracking with some new ones. Also if anyone id interested I can either tell you of my other stories or you can see them on my page thing. Mostly Eowyn/Faramir, Boromir/OC and also a new Harry Potter Founder one. Enjoy!