CHAPTER NINE

An Image of Magic

Back again with another chapter! I seem to be on a roll again, don't I? And thank you so much Guest, Aenlu, Joypotato, RunningGolden for your kind reviews! They make me incredibly happy and motivated :)

Enjoy this next chapter, where we'll finally be able to see into Dylis' mind...

Dylis and Ariel were true to their word; they rode day and night. They took turns carrying Lithir, and this time he lay slack in Ariel's arms.

Ariel adjusted herself slightly to let the man lean against her more comfortably. He looked younger than she'd thought he'd be; they'd cleaned his face during their first rest with some water, and now she assumed he was probably older than her by just a few years.

Her brows furrowed in concern. She might not know this man, and she might not know Angharad, but she felt incredibly determined to bring him to safety— especially when he started moaning a girl's name in his sleep the other day.

That night, the third night since their encounter with Angharad and Lithir, Dylis pulled their horses to a stop earlier than usual. Ariel shot her a quizzical look.

"The horses deserve a longer rest this time," Dylis explained as she dismounted Aeron— the name she'd settled on for her mount.

"We cannot stop yet," Ariel protested, even though she felt exhaustion wash over her now that they stopped.

"Yes, Ariel, we can and we must," Dylis said sternly as she tied Aeron to a fallen tree trunk. "Lithir has no use of us when we've fainted of fatigue." Dylis walked up to Ariel, looking up at her and putting her hands in her side.

Ariel looked back, trying to be unrelenting, but she could feel Lithir slipping from her grasp already. She was tired, and as much as she hated to admit it, Dylis was right.

"Fine," she yielded. "Help me, will you?"

They carefully hauled Lithir from Capilet, and once he was safely on the ground, Ariel slid off her mount and tied her to the same trunk Aeron was tied to.

Dylis immediately went to search for more athelas while Ariel fed Lithir some dried fruit. Though his skin was freezing cold and his eyes seemed permanently turned inward, Lithir did respond to her at times. He could still swallow, and sometimes he groaned or seemed to try to say something.

"That's it," Ariel said, gently forcing him to drink something. "Good. Just a little more…" She heard the crunch of leaves and twigs of Dylis' steps behind her and sat back on her knees. "I wonder who Gwyneth is," she said, eyes still on Lithir's taut and pale face.

Dylis didn't say anything for a long moment, then walked around to Lithir's other side. "How's his leg?"

Ariel turned her head to Dylis. "I was about to check," she said. She put her water skin away, then proceeded to unwrap the makeshift bandage around his thigh. Her hands trembled when she took in the wound, which was consumed by a foul blackness. "It— It's become worse."

Dylis waved her hands, beckoning Ariel to move her hands away from the wound, and Ariel leaned against the tree trunk as she watched Dylis set to work.

Lithir groaned, but it sounded unnatural. As they'd done multiple times, Ariel grabbed his tunic and lifted it, and gasped.

Veins that were supposed to be nearly invisible underneath the skin had coloured the same filthy black as the wound was. The blackness had already reached past his navel— it'd only be a matter of time before it reached his heart.

Time which they barely had.

She didn't need to voice this to Dylis; the blonde's hands had stilled as she took in the sight. They shared a concerned look.

"What happens if we don't make it in time?" Ariel asked, not quite sure if she wanted to know the answer.

Dylis rubbed the chewed stems and leaves over the cut. "He won't die," she said. "He'll become like them. A wraith."

Ariel felt the blood drain from her face. "That's— that's worse."

"Indeed." Dylis ripped another piece of cloth from her dress— it only reached her calves by now. "Go sleep, Ariel. I'll keep first watch."

Ariel tried to sleep, but found she couldn't. Not after hearing that this man might succumb to what Dylis called the Black Breath, not after hearing he might become one of those wraiths.

The next morning, she felt more tired than the day before, but also more determined. This time it was Dylis' turn to carry Lithir, so Capilet was better able to keep a constant pace.

After riding for three hours, they neared a bridge of stone and stopped.

"Once we pass this bridge," Dylis said, "we must be on our guard. We cannot stop. We cannot speak. We must make haste."

"Why? What's out there?" Ariel asked, straining her neck to see past the stone bridge they were standing in front of.

"The Trollshaws," Dylis replied. "As the name explains, there are trolls in those woods. You don't want to face those."

Ariel nodded stiffly. Trolls. Of course there were trolls here. Lovely.

They urged their horses to move on, and slowly quickened their pace to a canter. They left behind them the Last Bridge, which crossed the river called Hoarwell, and Ariel couldn't help but feel as though they were setting foot in unfamiliar territory— even though technically, everywhere was unfamiliar territory.

It took them one day and a half to pass the Trollshaws, and Ariel was frightened. If she and Dylis spoke, they would only whisper, but usually it was Lithir's gasping and moaning that made the most sound.

They saw no trolls, though, but the road they had been following did narrow down to a mere path. Sometimes they could barely see if they were still following it.

"We must be nearing the Bruinen," Dylis mumbled pensively as she ducked her head to avoid being hit by a low-hanging branch. Ariel wasn't so lucky.

"How do you know that?" Ariel asked, pushing the branch out of her face. They had gone from a canter to a walk again, and Ariel was relieved to give her bum a short break.

"The Bruinen is called Loudwater in the Common Tongue," Dylis replied. "Can't you hear it?"

Ariel frowned and listened. Indeed, in the distance she could hear the faint sound of running water. She glanced at Lithir, who'd started looking as though he was already dead. "Well, what are we waiting for then?" she said to Dylis, then clicked her tongue to her mare. "C'mon Cap, make haste!"

As quick as they could they rode towards the sound of the river, and for a second Ariel imagined the trees and bushes to belong to an obstacle course. The rushing water was coming closer, and Ariel's heart leapt at the prospect of Lithir being safe, of seeing Rivendell, and at the possibility of finding a way back home.

But when the river came into view, and along with it the way the water swirled around rocks roughly, they came to a stop again.

"It has a stronger current than I remember," Dylis said as she rode her steed up to Ariel's side.

"Perhaps because you've only seen this river in movies," Ariel replied, rolling her eyes. "Are we just going to wade through it? We don't know how deep it is."

"And we don't know whether Lord Elrond will send a flood at us," Dylis muttered, to which Ariel send her a strange look. Dylis shook herself. "Well, let's just… get it over with, shall we?"

Ariel tightened her hold on the reins and nodded. "We have to."

Together, they urged their horses to walk, and Capilet swayed to the right as the strong current tried to take them with her. Ariel gasped a little; the cold water droplets felt like needles digging into her skin.

Ariel could feel Capilet sinking deeper into the water— a couple more steps and her feet would be able to touch it.

But then something strange happened.

The current became even stronger and Capilet had to stop walking in order to remain standing stably. But as the current strengthened, both Ariel and Dylis watched in amazement as the water level fell gradually, as though the ground was sucking the water away.

Finally, the river became calm, almost still, and was only a few inches deep.

Ariel turned her head to Dylis and gaped at her, dumb-founded.

"Holy shit," she breathed.

Dylis cleared her throat, looking at the river again. "Yes. You could say that again."

Ariel shook her head, still unable to fathom what exactly had happened— whether this was a good or bad sign.

They crossed the river without trouble, but as soon as their mounts set foot on the shore, figures dropped out of the trees and landed neatly before them with nothing more than a soft thud.

Ariel stared.

She had been in Middle Earth for over a month now, and Dylis had told her about the Elves.

But to actually see them.

Dylis had been right. They are beautiful. Divinely so, even. Naturally, she had seen the movies and knew they had to be beautiful, but— but—

To be this good-looking should be a crime.

There were four of them, all hard angles and lines. And with evident frowns on their faces.

"Who are you?" asked one of them, the only one with blond hair, as he stepped forward with his hand on the hilt of his sword. "What ails your companion?"

"Please," said Dylis. "He has been stabbed by a Morgul blade. We have been travelling in haste for four days."

His eyes seemed to bulge. "A Morgul blade, you say?"

Ariel almost had the nerve to click her tongue. "Yes," she replied impatiently. "He doesn't have long."

The elf nodded. Ariel was then utterly distracted by the most beautiful language that left his lips as he spoke to his companions. The words were flowing, almost sounding as though they were sung, and for a moment all she could do was stare, and stare, and stare.

And then she snapped out of it when she realised he was walking up to Dylis and taking Lithir from her as though the sick young man weighed nothing.

"My fellow guards will take him to Lord Elrond," he said as they transfered Lithir from Aeron to the horse of one of the elves as if he weighed nothing more than a feather. "They will be quicker."

Ariel sighed in relief. "Thank you," she said.

The elf just nodded and went back to his companions, probably to give instructions. Ariel and Dylis shared a look of relief, both allowing their shoulders to sag a little. Lithir would be safe and healed. They would be safe.

When the other two elves had left, the remaining ones turned back to Ariel and Dylis. The one with flowing blond hair seemed to come straight out of a shampoo commercial. He had a peculiar glow around him, too, that made him even more alien than the other elves.

The other had straight, brown hair, and his eyes were sharp and cutting.

"Lord Elrond has evidently seen no threat in you," the one who'd spoken before, with the blond hair, said. "And naturally, the Dúnedain are always welcome in Imladris."

Ariel's eyebrows knitted together. The Dúnedain? He thought she and Dylis were one of them?

She turned to look at Dylis, expecting to see her equally confused. Instead, the blonde just nodded and expressed her gratitude as though she'd expected nothing less of this elf.

"Perhaps you could dismount your horses," the elf suggested kindly, "so we may converse more comfortably. I suppose you have travelled in all haste. Perhaps a brief rest will do you well."

Dylis nodded. "Yes, I think it will," she replied. "Thank you."

Ariel swung her leg back and slid off her mount even less elegantly than usual, patting Cap on her neck before following Dylis.

The elves approached their horses, whispering to them in that sweet-sounding language of theirs.

Then they joined Ariel and Dylis, and Ariel was surprised to see their horses remained where they were, grazing in the grass.

"Your friend," the blond elf started. "He is a Ranger? Could you explain to me what happened?"

"We were already on our way to Rivendell when we encountered Lithir and another Dúnadan namen Angharad, both in need of aid," Dylis told them. "Angharad told us that he and Lithir tried to drive off the wraiths but that one of them managed to injure Lithir, and he entrusted us with the task of bringing Lithir to safety while he went to warn a settlement— I suspect about the Ringwraiths."

The elf shut his eyes, muttering something in his own language that didn't sound very decent. "They were fools for trying to take on those wraiths," he said as he shook his head. "At least Lithir is safe."

"Allow us to introduce ourselves," the other elf broke in. "This is Lord Glorfindel," he said, nodding to the blond elf, "and my name is Tulvon."

Dylis smiled. "I am Dylis," she said. "This is Ariel."

Ariel gave a tired smile.

"A pleasure meeting you," Tulvon said. He turned his head to the horses. "Though your mounts are quite tired of your tedious journey, I am afraid we must keep moving. The sooner you will be clean and well-rested."

Dylis nodded. "Of course."

Dylis walked back to Aeron while Ariel nearly dragged herself up to Capilet, but jolted when a whistle penetrated her ears. She whirled around and watched in wonder as two strong and gorgeous horses came up to meet the elves.

She saw Glorfindel smile as he softly caressed his steed's nose, and the sight of it had Ariel awestruck. There was something about perfect elven-beings and magnificent horses that created a beautiful image, and if Ariel had the skill, this would be something she would love to paint on canvas.

She shook herself out of her trance, but she supposed it was already too late. This would probably be the first of her many elf-crushes.

Ariel shook her head and hauled herself onto Capilet. As soon as she sat, though, she felt such exhaustion and relief wash over her, that she swayed in her seat.

Her vision blurred, and she was faintly aware of Dylis calling out. She felt her grip on the reins loosen, she felt her upper body lean over to the right, and before she knew it, she fell— and her vision went black.

o0o

"Ariel!"

Dylis nearly jumped from her horse and rushed to the unconscious girl. She rolled Ariel over, cupping the back of her head. Ariel was entirely slack.

The blond elf, Lord Glorfindel, knelt at her side. "Overfatigue," he said without hesitation. "She fell on her head— she might have a concussion."

"Put her on Aeron," Dylis said as she jerked her head to her steed, not caring she was ordering someone ranked higher than her. "She can ride with me."

They lifted her onto Dylis' mount (called after her once best friend and lover), and Dylis held her against her body securely. Tulvon led Capilet behind them, while Glorfindel led the way at the front. Tulvon's own horse apparently didn't need to be led— elvish horses were by nature much more compliant and could understand elvish commands easily.

Their journey took no longer than two hours, and when they finally came upon the elven-city, Dylis had to stop at the sight.

Nostalgia hit her like a wave as she looked upon Imladris, a city that hadn't changed one bit. Bree had gone from the cultural and economical centre of the West to a stinking, grim town— but Imladris had remained as magnificent as ever.

It was an image of pure magic. Archways and roofs glistened in the sunlight, water sprays from picturesque waterfalls played with colour and light, and bird songs echoed throughout the valley.

Dylis was taken back to all those years ago, when she'd arrived in Rivendell for the very first time with her father. She could remember it as the day of yesterday.

It was the first time Dylis visited Rivendell, and she was utterly enthralled by the sight of the city before her. Fornost was stately and robust with its sturdy buildings made of durable stone— Rivendell was the very same but in the most delicate way possible.

From the corner of her eyes, she could see Lord Elladan smirk at her, and she immediately neutralised her face, smoothing out any sign of wonder.
"Come on now, penneth," he said as he spurred his horse to go down the winding pathway. "I do not blame you for being in awe of my home." He looked back at her with a smile. "I myself fall in love with this city every time I set my eyes on it."

She gave him a small smile— oh, the poetic speech of elves— and clucked her tongue to make Brynn follow him to the gate. She looked around, aware of Lord Elrohir and her father watching her with amused grins (which she ought to wipe off their faces), but pointedly ignored them. Lord Elrohir passed her by so that they were already in formation for their arrival. Dylis made way for her father as well, but he just shook his head and remained where he was behind her.

Feeling the excitement bubble up in her stomach accompanied by a goofy grin, she forced it down. She must remain professional, she told herself, and reminded herself of the purpose of this visit.

She was here to learn. Not only about what it entailed to lead an army or a guard— but she was also here to study elvish lore, and to build up a foundation of the Sindarin tongue.

It didn't make visiting Rivendell less exciting, though, she allowed herself to think. She looked behind her to her father, who nodded at her with a small smile. She had spent weeks begging him to bring her along, giving reasons to go, trying to persuade him with lists of arguments she'd memorised with Aeron's help.

Dylis wet her lips and rubbed her sweaty hands off on her tunic as they crossed a narrow bridge, now that she could still do that. Her father would kill her if she were to do that in public.

They reached the gate— a beautiful work of stone that consisted of three arches and a covered walkway above it. Through the arch in the middle went the path they were following, which then became a slightly arched bridge before it reached some sort of round platform. Already from here she could see probably a dozen of elves waiting on the platform.

Dylis straightened her back, lifted her chin ever so slightly, and squared her shoulders. Happy cries reached her ears as Lord Elladan rode in, followed by Lord Elrohir. Then Dylis and her father officially entered the city.

She slid off her horse (as she'd practised to do elegantly for weeks back home) and when her feet were on the ground she took her time to look around.
It had already taken some getting used to the sheer beauty of Lord Elladan and Elrohir, but to be surrounded by twelve or so angelic and radiant faces was something new.

Her hands immediately went to the blemish on her right cheek, which she'd scratched open yesterday. Now she regretted it fiercely.

It was needless to say elves didn't experience such foul business.

She sought out her father and went to stand next to him. He offered her an assuring smile and looked back to his front as a tall, brown-haired elf clad in exquisite navy robes approached them. Dylis straightened up even more.

"Lord Brychan," the elf Dylis knew to be Lord Elrond greeted with a merry smile. "How are you faring, my friend?"

"Lord Elrond," her father greeted back with a smile of his own. "I am doing quite well, thank you. It is a pleasure to see you again."

The lord nodded and turned to Dylis, a smile playing at his lips. Though stern looking, these elves seemed to be perpetually amused.

"Allow me to introduce my daughter, Dylis," lord Brychan said and put a hand on her shoulder. "Dylis, this is Lord Elrond."

Dylis dipped her head in a curtsy and smiled. "Mae govannen, Lord Elrond," she said.

Lord Elrond smiled broadly now. "Mae govannen, lady Dylis," he replied kindly. "I hope your stay with us will be most pleasant."

He stepped aside a bit, as if he had heard his daughter's approach. Dylis' eyes flickered to the brown-haired elleth who stepped forward, next to him.

She was truly beautiful. It made Aeron's compliment about Dylis' hair shrink into utter insignificance compared to Lady Arwen's glossy black waves. It was only logical that Dylis felt dwarfed in her presence; Dylis could imagine any man falling head over heals for this fair elleth.

Yet there was something about her that not only made her stunning, but strong as well. She could see the way Lady Arwen held herself; chin lifted as well, shoulders squared, back straight.

A true lord's daughter.

"You must be lady Dylis," she said, her voice melodious, with a dip of her head.

"And you must be Lady Arwen Undómiel," Dylis replied, with a nod of her own.

They regarded each other for a moment, in equal respect, in recognition, before a smile appeared on the elleth's fair face. "I have been waiting to meet you," she told her with a twinkle in her grey eyes. "My brothers have told me much about you."

Dylis allowed herself to smile as well, relaxing slightly. "Not merely stories about me falling victim to their pranks, I hope," she said, glancing at the twins talking with a blond elf. Lord Elladan looked up and shot her a grin— no doubt having heard what Dylis had said.

"Not only those stories," Lady Arwen said with a contemplating nod to the side. "You do know what you put yourself into with visiting their home territory, do you not?"

"This should be an interesting trip, then," Dylis said with a chuckle, deciding she already liked the elleth.

Dylis' father put a hand on her back and said with a smile, "Come. Lord Elrond has given us a room in the Guest Quarters. Perhaps Lady Arwen could give you a tour once we have settled in?"

Lady Arwen smiled and nodded. "Naturally! I would be pleased to do so."

Dylis jerked and blinked. Tulvon, who was still waiting behind her, had cleared his throat.

"Sorry," she said and urged Aeron forward.

"It is alright," Tulvon replied. "Imladris is quite a sight." There was unconcealed pride in his voice.

Dylis let her gaze slide along the exquisite buildings wistfully. "Yes, it is."

Back in Rivendell, she thought to herself. No longer with her father, no longer with the excitement of her then beloved Aeron waiting for her back home in Fornost.

No. Her father and Aeron were dead— had been for a long, long time— and she was here with Ariel, who still didn't know of her heritage.

She glanced at Lord Glorfindel, who was already making his way down the path that led to the front gate. During her visits to Rivendell, only once had they spoken, when Lord Elladan and Elrohir were determined to teach her some Elvish fighting techniques. Lord Glorfindel had passed them and couldn't resist pointing out a few of Dylis' flaws, but he had quickly been bullied away by the twins.

Nearly twenty years ago was it that she had last seen Lord Glorfindel, but for him, it was over a thousand years ago. Naturally he didn't remember her. But would Lord Elladan and Elrohir?

They followed the path down the valley, and Dylis wished Ariel were awake to see this. Ariel had done exceptionally well these past few weeks. Dylis had expected her to break down at the realisation of Middle Earth being real, but somehow, Ariel had come to terms with it.

In fact, in the weeks at The Prancing Pony, Ariel had seemed entirely accepting. No doubt it had to do with her determination of finding a way back to Provincetown.

Dylis looked down at Ariel, the same way she'd done when the brunette was only four years old and crying in front of her when they and Brynn had appeared on that asphalted road.

Ariel wasn't four anymore, though; she wouldn't believe anything Dylis would tell her. And she was once more scared for how Ariel would react when Dylis finally told her the whole truth.

They came upon the most simplest bridge, which crossed a deep cleft and a running stream. On the other side of it was the gate made of three broad arches, the two outer arches resting on pillars of rock coming up from the bottom of the cleft.

Seeing the gate again did something funny with Dylis' stomach, and somehow she felt as though she could cry.

She held on tight to Ariel as they crossed the bridge, not knowing if it was more beneficial for Ariel or herself, and forced herself to focus on the gate in front of her. It was already open.

She looked up, seeing two elves leaning on the balustrade of the walkway above the gate, watching the party walk into the city. They greeted Lord Glorfindel rather heartily.

When one of the two elves looked directly at her, Dylis sucked in a breath and quickly looked down again. She didn't know why she looked down; she didn't know why she felt her heart pump in her throat. For all she knew, it would make everything much more simpler if she made her identity known to the twins as soon as possible.

But the realisation that life had moved on here just as she had moved on in Provincetown… it crashed upon her so fiercely she had to take a moment to take a steadying breath. She chanced one more glance upward before she followed Lord Glorfindel through the gate; neither of the elves heeded her anymore as they greeted Tulvon.

Dylis loosed a breath.

Over the many years, the round platform hadn't changed. Nor had the statues of graceful elvish figures on either side of the path. It gave her a sense of continuity, something Dylis hadn't known she so desperately needed.

Lord Glorfindel had already dismounted and walked up to Dylis' steed. "She will need to be brought to the Healing Quarters," he said, reaching up to lift Ariel off the horse.

Ariel's head lolled to the side as Dylis let go of her, and Dylis was scared to know just how over-exhausted the girl was if she hadn't even woken up once during the remainder of their journey.

Dylis dismounted Aeron, and Tulvon dutifully took his reins. "I shall lead him and the mare to the stables," the ellon said assuringly.

She nodded, watching Aeron and Capilet be led away to another path to her right. She then followed Lord Glorfindel, who was already carrying Ariel bridal-style, up the stairs and into the building.

Walking through the hallways of Imladris seemed to have an instant effect on Dylis' state of mind. As soon as she walked into the building, an odd sensation of calm and serenity fell over her, as though here in this valley no danger could ever approach. Her shoulders fell from their permanently drawn up state, and she felt lighter than she'd ever felt since their arrival in Eriador.

She passed several ellith and ellyn on their way to the Healing Quarters, none of whom Dylis had seen before her time in Provincetown. Dylis was glad; she wasn't entirely sure if she could handle a long awaited meeting now. First, she needed to be sure Ariel was put in a bed so that the girl could sleep comfortably.

Only then could Dylis set her focus on requesting a meeting with Lord Elrond. She wasn't yet sure how she would explain her sudden arrival, nor was she sure how she would prove Ariel was in fact the princess of Arthedain. The only prove Dylis had was the ring she'd given Ariel a few years ago, but what if that wasn't enough?

Dylis shook her head, picking up her pace when Lord Glorfindel disappeared around the corner.

Not now, she told herself.

The room Ariel was brought into was beautifully elegant. Light flooded the room through the open arches, which let the outside world into the room. The pillars between the arches were ordained with carved out figures, their long hair transforming in swirling branch-like threads that reached to the ceiling above.

Rivendell's interior was ornate and organic, and Dylis suddenly had the thought that it wouldn't so bad if she and Ariel would continue live their lives here— should Lord Elrond allow it.

Ariel was already put into bed, and Dylis watched with faint amusement as Lord Glorfindel seemed to tuck her in, straightening the covers. He looked up. "I will fetch her a sleeping draught," he said. "It will calm the mind into a dreamless sleep."

Dylis nodded and stepped out of the way to let him pass. She drew up a chair and went to sit next to the bed, gazing around the room in wonder again before settling on Ariel.

Dylis leaned forward, taking the girl's left hand. The mithril ring and its dark green gem glittered around Ariel's finger, and gingerly, Dylis took it off.

Pocketing the ring, she looked around when she heard the door open. Lord Glorfindel walked around the bed to Ariel's other side, a small cup in his hand.

He whispered something Dylis couldn't understand, and Ariel's eyes fluttered a little.

"Penneth, can you tell us your name?" the ellon asked gently.

Ariel's eyes opened ever so slightly, and she mumbled a little. "Ariel," she eventually managed to reply.

He nodded. "Good," he said and turned to Dylis. "This draught will put her to sleep for at least eight hours. Should you be with her when she wakes, ask her a few questions about herself. If she cannot answer those, fetch a healer immediately."

Dylis nodded. "I will," she replied, watching him pour the draught in Ariel's mouth very carefully. "And thank you," she said once the ellon straightened up again. "You must have much better things to do than care for a tired girl."

Lord Glorfindel shrugged— such a casual gesture for an elf-lord. "It was the least I could do," he replied gracefully. "But indeed, I must be off to report to the Lord."

"Of course," Dylis said with a nod. "Again, thank you."

He nodded as well, then left the room and closed the door behind him.

A loud sudden silence filled the room, and Dylis was left to ponder what she was to do now.

She knew how Ariel looked up at her, how Ariel always turned to her when things went awry. But the truth was that half of the time, Dylis didn't know what she was doing either.

And she certainly didn't have clue of what to do now.

If she met with Lord Elrond and showed him the royal heirloom of Ariel's family, would he believe her? Would he even recognise Dylis? Would he be able to tell she was telling him the truth?

And what did it mean for the War? What if Ariel being back in Middle Earth changed certain events, or even the outcome of the War?

And then there was also the knowledge Dylis and Ariel had of the outcome. How in the world was she going to explain that? Dylis knew it would be complicated— she had fantasised of returning home often enough— but she hadn't imaged it being like this.

What if the elves shunned her, because they thought her mad?

The door opened and Dylis jerked up. She shot up and whirled around.

And froze.

Before her stood a striking, dark-haired elleth. Her hair fell down in loose, wavy tresses— less neatly than one would expect from a lady— and she was clad in a sky blue, loose-falling gown. Lady Arwen was looking at Dylis with wide eyes, evident recognition written all over her face.

"I knew it."

o0o

Lady Arwen crossed the room, still that same unbelieving expression on her angelic face. She was as beautiful as ever, and with the passing centuries she seemed to have aged only a few years.

Her face was less round and more mature— her cheekbones and jawline standing out. Her deep set clear eyes seemed to have lost their everlasting innocent spark, however; one of the few signs here in the valley that dark times were ahead.

"I came as soon as I heard," she said.

Dylis stared at her, completely off guard by her reaction. "Excuse me?" she said in utter bewilderment. "W-What do you mean?"

Lady Arwen smiled, as though something she had desperately been trying to prove had occurred and she couldn't wait to let others know. "I have been having odd dreams lately, and I suspected they were visions," she said. Suddenly she threw her arms around Dylis and gave her a fierce embrace. "Welcome back, Dylis. I have missed you."

Dylis just stood stock-still, not quite believing what was happening. When Lady Arwen let go, Dylis found she still could not entirely move, overcome by shock. "You knew I was coming?"

"Well," Lady Arwen said, her eyes turning a bit glassy as she recounted the images, "in my dreams, I saw you sitting beside this bed, your back turned to the door… I saw your hair… so golden in the sunlight… And then I saw you crossing the Bruinen, but I couldn't see your face very well… yet I just had this feeling of recognition…" She shook her head and the strange look on her face made way for a winning smile. "When you turned around just now, I knew," she finished.

Dylis turned around to Ariel, still sleeping, then at the balcony.

Lady Arwen nodded in understanding, and they made their way through the arches to the balcony, which looked out over the glade. Dylis was momentarily stunned by the beautiful sight, but then focused her attention on Lady Arwen again.

"Lady Arwen…"

"Arwen," she said with a meaningful but playful look.

Dylis smiled. "Arwen, then," she yielded. "I... You do not know how glad I am to see you. To be truthful, I was quite worried about showing myself to your father— or your brothers."

Arwen's eyebrows drew together as she turned her head to the view in front of her. "I can imagine," she said. "Though I have sensed your arrival, I would still like to know how you are still in existence after having disappeared for a third of an age." She turned back to Dylis, and the blonde pursed her lips as she avoided Arwen's piercing eyes.

"And I can imagine that," she replied, letting out a humourless chuckle. "It must be very strange for you to see a mortal live for a thousand years."

She hadn't planned on telling Arwen first. Dylis had simply planned to request a meeting with Lord Elrond— though what she planned on saying during that meeting, she had no clue. However… if she told Arwen now and the elleth believed her story, Arwen might be able to verify the story to Lord Elrond and convince him it's the truth.

Having decided, she turned back to Arwen. "It is a long story."