Chapter 14

Undomiel

Author's note: I was going to update this story last month, I swear, but life happened and other novels called to me. They begged for me to write them, plan them, and outline them and I just had to answer their call. Anyway, here's chapter 14. I hope to update with chapter 15 by the end of the month, but it might not happen until next month.

Anyway! Enjoy!

Aragorn woke early the next morning feeling less crushed by the weight of the world and its responsibilities and more hopeful. His things were packed from the night before tucked away into two duffle bags. His sword, bow and arrows rested near them. Carefully he walked to a chest at the edge of his bed and drew out the meticulously wrapped sword shards of Narsil. A sword of kings, history, and fate proclaimed in a vision shown to the first son of a steward. It was a vision that sealed Aragorn's path - one he hadn't intended to embark upon.

He closed his eyes and held the cloth covered shards lightly against his chest. To behold one's fate was difficult. The idea of him ruling Gondor somehow - a land he hadn't ventured into for some time - brought a heaviness to his heart that was beyond anything he felt before. It spoke to the possibility of his never seeing the bright, beautiful face that was Brianna for the remainder of his days.

She was Elven Queen, Aracasse ven Aldura, and not Brianna Davis. Her duty was ultimately to her people and she needed to be returned to them as soon as possible. The quest she was slated to take had to end with her leaving Arda. He had to remember that. A queen without her people, a people without their Queen, for too long would spell folly on any kingdom. He couldn't ask that of her, to leave them for a while, watch him die, and then return to her world later on.

Must that happen this way? He wondered. I am not as chained to this mortal life as one would assume. I am a descendent of Beren and Luthien.

Was it possible? What would it mean for Gondor and his children if he were to wait until one son or daughter was ready to take the crown before abdicating? Could he leave Arda for Brianna's world? Was it a possible path?

He set the shards upon the floor before his grip broke through the fabric and into the blade. Aragorn took several moments to breathe out the excitement and fear in his heart. He'd known this was a possibility with allowing his attraction to Brianna turn to something more. He had known yet that attraction grew under his direction anyway. What did it say about him to place her in such an unfair predicament?

There will be no decisions now as the time draws closer to her departure. I must accept my regard for her and put it away for a time, perhaps even forever. There are more important matters to attend to, he thought and dipped his hands to scoop the broken sword to himself once again.

Lord Elrond has requested it before his departure. The time had come for it to be remade.

The halls of Imladris at night were illuminated by the stars. A new moon was upon them that night making the bright orb invisible to the naked eye of humans and most elves. His friend, Legolas, has stated he could see a faint outline every so often, but it was often difficult to spot at certain times of the season.

The elf lord was in the smithy stoking the fires when he arrived. Elrond didn't need to look at him. He knew of Aragorn's coming by the time of night and the sound of his footfalls.

"Good morning, Estel, I trust you slept well?" Elrond asked.

"That I did," Aragorn replied. "I have come to give you what was requested."

"Good. Are your affairs in order?"

Lord Elrond rose from his crouched position and hung the metal poker on a hook next to the fire. Aragorn inclined his head to indicate his affirmative.

"I have informed the Dunadan of my return and instructed them to begin preparations for a scouting expedition far into the north. If there are signs of the enemy we will discover them," he said.

Elrond waved his hand in the direction of a wide table near his fire. Aragorn moved and placed the shards of Narsil on its surface. His foster father studied them for several minutes before absently nodding his approval.

"It is better than I feared. Isildur never showed me anything but the handle," he remarked.

Aragorn didn't reply. An indifference for his ancestor had long since settled on him. He waited to be dismissed, but Lord Elrond kept him there a little while longer.

"The blade is well preserved. That will aid me as I melt it down. Care for such relics is encouraging and speaks well of your family," Elrond continued. "You wish to go into Gondor. I hope the gravity of such a choice weighs on your understanding?"

Aragorn inclined his head, "I am prepared to face the consequences of my destiny."

Lord Elrond's gaze softened and he stepped to Aragorn and gently gripped his shoulder, "The throne is a burden I wish on a few. You, my son, are as worthy of it as anyone I've known in my long years in this world. Fight for it and she will be ready."

Aragorn bowed his head. She as in the throne of Gondor and its people. Sorrow filled him then and his age loomed before his eyes at the thought of what lay before him. Eighty-seven years! How could he possibly think to step into eternity if he could barely handle eighty-seven years?

Lord Elrond continued, "Do not think all consequences are bad. Some are good and allow you to make better choices that will lead to better consequences. I have always been proud of you and have looked on you as I would my own children. You will be king and I send you off with my blessing and confidence."

Aragorn didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything. He did allow the elf lord to pull him into a fatherly embrace. The elf, so ancient and wise, was the only father he had ever known.

"Thank you, Ada," he finally said hoarsely.

Brianna rose early and pulled on the training gear she requested a few days ago. Her hands shook as she strapped on a thick leather vest over fine cotton. The training grounds wasn't her first destination. First she would go to the gates and see Aragorn off to the road. At this moment she didn't know how she felt about this irritating certainty she had in regards to him.

Absently she pulled on a pair of boots. They were slim and firm fitting, but study to deflect as much damage from blunt objects as possible. She'd reviewed all of it last night to her satisfaction, so she didn't need to look over it again. On reflex she reached for her long knives, caught herself, and moved to choose her sword.

It was a picture of dwarven art she had commissioned upon her return to OLIMPUS. The blade was exceptionally thick with a razor sharp edge that never dulled. It's handle was carved from Avalon wood - a type of tree that grew around the hidden lake of the Fae. Brianna had been there once to deal with Queen Mab and return the faerie throne to its rightful rulers. Bits of that wood had been gifted to her as a collective "thank you" on behalf of their people. With that memory in the forefront of her mind she strapped her sword to her side and headed in the direction of the gates.

Brianna thought of Arwen for the duration of the trek if only to keep her mind from wandering to Aragorn. The elf lady was over one thousand years older than her, but maintained an innocence the Huntress could only dream of. In contrast Glorfindel seemed wiser in the ways of the world, but took its horrors with a measured patience that was to be hailed as impressive to all who knew him. It was a good match as far as Brianna was concerned. She'd seen romances where the partners were clearly ill-fitted and fated for disaster.

The gates appeared and she observed a small group of men conversing amongst each other with varying degrees of gravity. Glorfindel, Elrohir and Elladen were among this small gathering of ten. She approached slowly not wanting to disturb them from important logistical or tactical musings. Her caution was unwarranted because Glorfindel was first to see her and raised an elegant hand.

"Miss Brianna! What a sight for this day! Come and listen, if you wish!" He said eagerly.

Brianna grinned and approached. For a moment she considered moving a bit away from Aragorn to keep her intentions private, but the shy glance he sent in her direction prompted her to step into the empty space near him.

He leaned close to her and whispered, "We are discussing points of interest."

"Ah," she said.

Glorfindel smiled and began to fill her in on the particulars. Apparently Aragorn was to travel to the north where the Dunedan resided. Glorfindel intended to depart with Elrohir and Elladan to seek out the best route for their company out of Rivendell.

"What path do you wish to take on this front?" Glorfindel asked. "Do you have any insights, Miss Davis."

Brianna nodded, "Be wary of rivers, streams, caves, bogs and keep an eye or two on the sky as well. My enemies control various dark creatures and entities and will utilize them against you. The best path for us will be one with the most clear space."

Glorfindel inclined his head and turned to Elrohir and Elladan, "I have a few candidates. What of you?"

The twins glanced at each other before solemnly nodding their heads. They didn't elaborate; however, and made it clear that they felt the conversation was over. Brianna didn't protest nor was she offended. They had discussed this subject long before she had arrived and likely intended to search out other paths they planned on scouting.

There was also the fact that she would let their little sister come with them that likely soured their good opinion of her just a little bit. From they way they gave Glorfindel a wide berth she suspected that the elf Lord had endorsed Arwen's decision.

Each elf took their leave and stalked quietly out into the night. She was alone with Aragorn. Brianna was grateful it was dark and his eyes weren't nearly as keen as an elf's because her cheeks flushed with warmth.

"I am glad you are here," Aragorn said softly.

With a breath she turned to meet his gaze. Her breath caught and the reply on her lips faded from memory. Aragorn's eyes, their expression, their color, and their light were beautiful. Like twin stars orbiting the other within a large solar system. His very presence drew her in with a strong magnetic field.

"I am glad to see you now, in case I leave before you return," she finally replied.

Twin searching index fingers traced the edge of her hands. Brianna understood the gesture and tilted her fingers so his could lace through each slight digit. A shudder passed through her and it took her a moment to realize his hands were slightly less steady than they originally seemed.

We both feel it. This parting is like slamming the door on something that should happen, but won't, she thought.

"I shall miss you, Aracasse," he said.

"And I you, Estel," she whispered.

They remained like that for several minutes. The time seemed to slip away far too quickly. It was Aragorn who breathed a mournful sigh and released her. Brianna bit back a whimper. Despite this abrupt loss of contact Aragorn reached into a pouch attached to his belt and drew out a ring attached to a thin chain. He held it out to her and Brianna blinked, too stunned to think of anything to say.

"For you, to remember us," he said.

She smiled and blinked away a well of tears that threatened to spill from her eyes, "I don't think I'll ever be able to forget you."

Then she reached out and took the offered ring. She knew what it meant. If they met again whatever it was they shared would be resolved one way or the other. He bowed his head, whispered a goodbye, and stepped through the gate to head for the wilderness beyond. Brianna stated after him for a while barely making note of the time. When a small part of her that still lived in the present now reminded her she had an appointment, Brianna breathed in a long breath and lifted the chain attached to the ring over her head. The ring fell between the V-fold of her vest and tapped against the top of her breasts.

I might… no… better not think it. It's better this way, she told herself and stepped back from the gates.

She needed to focus on Arwen as a priority in this moment. If the elder elf's skill with a blade passed her aunt's high standards of what the typical elven lady should know then Brianna would feel much easier giving her blessing.

The lady awaited her at the edge of a gravel strewn pen. They were the only ones in the area at that moment besides the hulking form of Lord Boromir of Gondor who currently made quick use of what Brianna quickly assumed was the archery range. Arwen smiled brightly upon seeing Brianna's quick approach. Decidedly pushing away thoughts of Aragorn Brianna responded with a returning grin followed closely by a happy wave.

Lady Arwen was a nice, sweet, elleth and Brianna enjoyed varying moments of her company. Once inside the fighting pen the elf pulled Brianna into a hug. As the moment of greeting drew away the tone of their meeting changed to something a bit more serious.

I'm about to tell an elf who is almost twenty-five hundred years older than me that she has to meet the standards of a short one hundred and sixty-nine year old child. This is far too surreal to even think about, so I better just suck it up and deal, she thought.

"What are the parameters of this session?" Arwen asked.

Brianna tapped the hilt of her sword, "First you need to hit me at least once on the leg then on the shoulder in swordplay. If you can get me down that will be better. Then we'll see how keen your archery is. That will pass some of my Aunt's standards at least. Your brothers probably have a higher one, but as we are in a group I'm not as concerned about mastery."

Arwen nodded and drew her sword. A guard was already fitted along the blade. Brianna drew out hers and ran her hand down the length of her blade. It shimmered with a sheath of air encasing it ever so lightly. Her opponent raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. Instead she fell into a stance that reminded Brianna greatly of a preying mantis.

Brianna grinned, "Impressive."

She crouched forward, seeming to expose her neck and shoulders, and held her sword at her left hip guarding her entire torso. As expected, Arwen struck first. Her sword jabbed down intending to hit Brianna's exposed shoulder.

Brianna was faster.

The position she was in allowed for her to quickly tuck her chin to chest and lengthen the flat of her blade across her pelvis. This enabled a fast roll to dodge the attack and spring at the elf lady from her right. Arwen didn't anticipate the move, but she recovered from the shock of it. She stepped out of the way as Brianna sprang from the ground intending to jab at her side.

Their dance lasted several minutes where little sound could be heard as both elves moved and dodged at all of the appropriate moments. Brianna noticed, from the corner of her eye, that Lord Boromir had abandoned his practice in archery to watch the spectacle. She didn't have much time to dwell on it as Arwen attempted another tactic to jab the tip of her blunted blade into her shoulder. Brianna swung her sword up and blocked the blow. The sound of elven steel echoed across the mostly empty courtyard.

Brianna grinned.

Arwen threw her weight forward and Brianna maneuvered their swords to the ground before quickly stepping away. The older elf looked at her, looked back at her blade, then back to Brianna. Her eyes, as grey as the deep sea, glinted as her mind clearly echoed several calculations.

Then Arwen slipped forward, dropped to her knees, and clipped Brianna's calf just as she moved away. Brianna laughed and jumped into the air. Her body curled and extended then her feet touched the ground several feet away from Arwen.

"You seem to have a few advantages over me," Arwen observed.

They circled one another, blunted blades aimed at the other. Brianna glanced at Boromir again. He still watched them silently, calculating, as if memorizing each well aimed thrust and purposeful block they made. She studiously ignored him and returned her full attention to Arwen.

"My training regimen was constructed to fight other things besides orcs and wraiths," she explained.

"As mine is more self defense. I am the only one of my father's children to take an interest in the healing arts," Arwen replied.

Brianna visibly nodded. Mentally she calculated all the great uses a healer would be on a journey that may or may not include multiple attacks from her enemies. A healer, of course, needed protecting, but one that could mostly protect herself during battle was also a plus.

I'll still have to work with her. Some of the creatures from my world are poisonous, she thought.

In a blink Arwen rushed forward and slashed and jabbed for Brianna's shoulders. She blocked the maneuvers with relative ease, made to spin around her, but Arwen reached out, grabbed her arm, and jabbed the blunted tip of her sword into Brianna's shoulder. A loud "ugh" escaped her lips and Arwen let her go a minute later. Brianna sheathed her sword then laughing.

"Well, at least you'll be able to fight goblins!"

Arwen removed the guards along her blade before easing it back into its scabbard. Neither elf was breathing heavily from the workout.

"So long as you can use your height against them that should be good enough. When fighting orcs I think I'd rather you attempt for the high ground. Which comes to our next test. Archery!" Brianna chimed.

They exited the ring as sunlight inched its way above the crest of a particularly high hill. The man, Boromir, continued to watch them as if he couldn't quite comprehend the sight before him. Arwen, naturally, surpassed all expectations in archery thus making Brianna's support for the elf maid's company stronger.

Daenith watched Hecate's belly swell each day and observed the obvious toll it took on her body. There was a moment when Sauron began infusing his power into her that changed the course of the growing empty child in her womb. The Dark Lord's power was hot and foul and corrupted everything it came in contact with. Her coven sister's dark hair showed streaks of white. Red splotches speckled her chest and cheeks. Her lips were cracked and body dehydrated as she continued to pour every bit of sorcery that she knew into what would become Sauron's host.

One day, after Hecate spent an hour singing a dark spell that made even Daenith's hairs stand on end, their eyes met. That shared look sent Daenith into a silent rage once she returned to her quarters. Her coven sister would not survive the birth. Once that grown piece of flesh was born Hecate would fade into the dark void never to return.

We are all expendable to them. Queen Mab has failed us. We were queens! Once I held the lands of the North in my iron will as a human Empress! I seduced my half-sister to my side! I brought her and Arthur together into an incestuous ritual that begot the king's downfall! I was a queen! We were all queens! She thought.

Queens no more. They were reduced to pawns now. Daenith was a pawn doomed to likely be killed by one of the elven queen's companions once the curse finished spilling from her lips. Nyx was with Hades sharing his bed every night for the mere pleasure of her company. Aries, to be certain the spell held, took Daenith every night to strengthen his will within the curse's confines. She couldn't tell him that he was needlessly overdoing it. The curse kept her silent as the grave and she would remain so until her task was done.

She hated it. She despised Mab, Hades, and Aries. She wanted to break Sauron's power once and for all in payment for the hell her coven sister went through. There was a time when Daenith wanted the elven queen dead for her part in Lord Ba'al's death, but now? Now she saw her very vocal point.

I will tell them, she thought, if I am able to I will tell them how to break the curse. Then they can kill me. It will be enough.

Today her coven sister stood at a window looking out to the desolate plains beyond Minas Morgul. Once blessed with coal black skin, her hue had lightened to a sickly grey. Eyes, once bright and red with power, dimmed a dark brown. Daenith knew what this meant, understood its purpose, as her sister faded. A life for a life. That was the parameters of the spell. To resurrect life into any form one must be prepared to give up life in return.

"Lord Sauron wishes to see you today, before you leave," Hecate said in a small voice that resembled a girl's instead of the strong sensuous female that trained Circe to charm Odysseus.

Daenith's eyes closed tightly for a moment before flickering open to silently communicate a question. Hecate smiled.

"Do you think I am going to give my life for the cause of some unworthy thing? Go see the Dark Lord. Aries will not have the elven queen," she said and then returned her gaze to the window.

Daenith gaped. She didn't want to see Lord Sauron so he could use her in his game, but…

Aries was the one who convinced Mab to choose Hecate instead of someone else. Hades did the deed. Persephone… had always wanted to escape her husband. Daenith smiled, understanding. Revenge lay in Sauron. Persephone's freedom lay in Sauron.

She understood. This wasn't for Aries or Hades or Mab.

Daenith turned and did as she was bid. If the Dark Lord wanted Queen Aracasse then he would have her and Aries could go back to hell for all she cared.