Chapter 19

Echoes of the Past

Author's Note: This chapter is really short and I'm not completely happy with it, but after writing Laurel's POV I couldn't bring myself to add to it. The way her POV ended made the chapter feel complete. So, here it is! Updated twice in a month. I'm participating in CampNaNoWriMo next month, so I don't know if a July update is going to happen.

Brianna was pleased by Glorfindel's rate of recovery. The elf had been ready to leave the moment he could stand and walk on his own. It helped get them on their way, but she did notice he took greater care of being near Arwen as they skirted the west bank of the Anduin. For a moment, it annoyed her, but as she thought about her own past and the consequences of certain careless decisions that resulted in the deaths of the men she loved Brianna discovered that she couldn't bring herself to feel annoyed. The fact remained that Glorfindel had almost lost Arwen in one way or another due to Brianna and her brothers' negligence. If he didn't trust them to take care of her the way he felt he could she couldn't blame him.

Elrohir and Elladan certainly didn't seem to mind their new traveling formation. Both knew the way to Lorien just as well as Glorfindel and Arwen did, so both took turns being in the lead. Brianna always remained near the back of the line with either one sending out the occasional feeler to check on the status of their enemies. As it stood, Erebus and his cohorts remained far in the north trying to figure out exactly where Brianna had whisked everyone away to. After all, it wasn't like they knew where they were going and, as Erebus didn't know the land particularly well, wouldn't be able to hazard a close guess. The further away from the north they traveled the less Brianna checked for enemies. Once they were three days passed the "Old Fjord", she restricted herself to checking for enemies twice a day and took time to scout around the proximity to remain vigilant, but for the most part she allowed herself time to relax.

One night, they took a moment to stop for two hours and eat and also discuss the situation as it currently stood. No fires were lit, hard cheese and elven bread was the chosen meal, and everyone's expressions ranged from relieved to grave. There had been no sign of their enemies. Erebus hadn't discovered where they went which caused mixed opinions about whether the fact was good or bad.

"I can't think that they won't find us eventually," Brianna remarked.

"It is concerning," Elrohir agreed, "I would have thought our efforts would be primarily focused on evasion instead of tracking."

The brothers had seemed to look more favorably on her after rescuing Glorfindel and Arwen. The circumstances behind that rescue and the horror their sister almost went through had unsettled everyone. Brianna knew a bit of what she would have been subjected to. When she'd been a prisoner of Ba'al's he'd tortured her in ways that likely would have broken Arwen beyond recognition. He never tried to touch her. That "honor" was supposed to happen later when she would be ritualistically bound to him. Before that, she watched as he took her best friend Allyson and flayed parts of her then lover Alyan. When her team had come for her, Allyson was dead - torso completely torn open in order to remove the child Ba'al had forced her to conceive - and Alyan was dying and completely beyond recognition. Maf hadn't let her see Alyan until he breathed his last a week later. Allyson was the one she'd seen first. Sometimes, the memory plagued her dreams and made it impossible for her to sleep at night. Brianna was glad she was an instrument in preventing Allyson's horror from happening to Arwen.

"I'd rather avoid meeting them again, if possible," she said, "how much longer before we get there?"

"We have another week before we are close," Elladan said, "then another four days before we approach Lorien. It will take us two days to arrive in Caras Galadhorn. We should be wary of meeting with our enemies given how much ground there is yet to cover."

Brianna had nodded and replied, "I've maintained a general perimeter, but if you think I should check more often I will."

"It might be best, Brianna," Glorfindel had replied, face graver than was typical, "I won't feel easy until we reach the borders."

"Good. We'll remain vigilant until then. Keep up with our current formation. Our healer needs to be protected at all costs," Brianna said, effectively ending the conversation.

It was generally understood, at that point, that Arwen was their weakest and greatest strength. It had surprised Brianna to discover the daughter of Elrond's healing capabilities. Her work on Glorfindel's general injuries made his recovery process faster and when she began peppering her with questions she found the elf's knowledge vast and expansive. Even if Glorfindel and her brothers resented her for allowing Arwen to accompany them she resolved not to regret it. Had an Arwen been on the road with Aragorn and the Hobbits something may have been done to help Frodo before his wound had become as bad as it had.

She said as much to Arwen one night when the elleth had asked about the sudden change in the way Brianna and her brothers treated her on the march and at camp. To this Arwen had smiled fondly and looked to the distant horizon. Brianna had looked at her then, really looked at her, and wondered what exactly their relationship was. From what she understood from her brothers and Aragorn, himself, Arwen hadn't been around much during the man's childhood.

"Aragorn spent several nights with my father improving his healing craft. I'd never seen him quite so determined to improve as I did weeks ago," she said with a smile.

Brianna, who had purposefully placed all thoughts of Aragorn far to the back of her mind, started at the mention of him and replied, "I thought he was more of a warrior than a healer?"

Arwen's gaze looked both sad and fond when she replied, "Aragorn, I think, wishes to be both."

In that moment, Brianna asked a question that changed her outlook on everything that had happened in her life up to that point, "What is he to you? A brother?"

That gaze turned from sad to regretful, "Now, I see him as a brother, but once I believed him to be something more."

Startled, Brianna had asked, "Once? Were you two…"

She couldn't quite bring herself to voice exactly what she wanted to say. A dark pit of something had formed around her stomach and it took everything in Brianna's power to push it away, far into that box Brianna needed it to remain in.

Arwen; however, didn't notice Brianna's discomfort at the subject and seemed to be lost in the trance of memory. Brianna would never forget the expression in her eyes - the way her lips curled into a sad frown - as the sands of time began to catch up to her in its walled storm.

"When he was younger, Aragorn expressed a romantic interest in me. I foolishly allowed that partiality to grow and turn into what we both thought was love," here she smiled and remarked, "he mistook me for Luthien and I was gratified by the comparison, though I am a shadow of our mutual ancestor."

Brianna remembered the day she'd plunged into Arwen's mind to rescue her from Erebus' hold. Arwen didn't see herself as a great beauty, nor did she believe herself to be particularly powerful. She knew Aragorn would have looked at her and seen Luthien recast - a piece of history about a pair of ancestors he both revered and respected - and would have been enchanted.

Arwen continued further, "Then I was reacquainted with Glorfindel a year later before Aragorn left for Rohan. In that moment, I discovered that partiality meant nothing when the stars determine another to be your destiny. I told him that he was not mine and it hurt him, but he accepted it and left Imladris to fight the agents of Sauron in the wild and the realms beyond for many years. When he was in Lorien, we met again and his heart was healed and Glorfindel and I had the beginnings of an understanding. He was… happy. I hadn't understood, at first. He professed his love for me all those years ago and I never quite believed he could have healed so thoroughly as he had."

Arwen looked into her eyes then and said, "Then I saw the way he looked at you in the Hall of Fire while you sang, and I knew that he understood what I had decades ago."

Brianna had been unsettled by the declaration then and she continued to be so now. Four days had passed since that conversation and the box Brianna had originally erected for herself to keep thoughts of Aragorn from distracting her had long since disintegrated. She felt sick from the realization that her path, as it stood, veered far away from him and it didn't seem like pursuing anything with him was possible.

She stared into the river as she carefully stepped along a high rocky bank. Trees, thin as wisps of grey smoke grew along the bank on the other side of the Anduin. Long branches trailed from the main trunks and produced thin whip-like little branches with small green leaves growing every few inches like a vine. Fish swam near the bank away from the river's swift current feeling around for food. The sun emerged from behind thick grey clouds and beamed its glittering reflection on the water's surface.

Is this my fate? To meet the one who might actually be destined for me only to be forced away from him? She wondered.

Brianna pulled a face at the thought and attempted to push it and the emotions accompanying it back into her little mental box. She was busy! She didn't need the distraction, nor did she need to remain in a constant state of self-pity. It was pathetic and did little to help the situation at hand.

"You are distracted."

Brianna shifted her gaze to the sky for a moment before sending Elladan the dirtiest look she could muster and replied, "There isn't any sign of the enemy as far as the land and the wind can tell me. I can have a moment."

The elf looked at her, lips curled into a frown, and followed her gaze to the other side of the river. Beyond the initial glade of willow trees - or what she assumed were willows - was a large, expansive forest that they had yet to pass. Brianna had reached out to it the first day her eyes had settled on it and nearly shuddered at the dark hostility permeating from its earth. She never asked what the forest was called - she hadn't wanted to know - but looking at it left her in a state of disquiet for an extended period of time.

"I remember when the forest was called Greenwood. It was inhabited by the wizard, Radagast, who guarded it and the creatures living within. His departure has left the woodlands hostile and I suspect the only thing keeping it from growing wild is Elven King Thranduil," he said.

Brianna looked at him and studied his face. Elladan seemed to mourn that forest as if he'd lost a dear friend. That was another thing that bewildered her about Arda's elves. They treated the land and its plants as if they were sentient beings. They weren't - for the most part - but something certainly lived among them that controlled a great deal of how the land reacted to those around it. One such being she sensed in the formerly christened Greenwood.

"What is the forest called now?" She asked.

"Mirkwood."

She shuddered, "That fits."

Silence descended between them. It was a companionable silence, one Brianna was grateful for. While she enjoyed the conversation around many people she needed moments of quiet as well. As the days grew darker and the complete purpose of their enemies came to light she suspected those moments would fade. Brianna hoped, she fervently hoped, that whatever it was she would end up doing in Lorien to help fix the situation would actually work.

I don't want them to experience this evil longer than they need to, she thought. They are my people and I will protect them, or die trying.

Professor Laurel Moruni had never set foot in Lothlorien in the days she'd walked Arda's lands before. She had known the Lady Galadriel many years ago in Beleriand a few years after she'd met and later married Celeborn, but the meeting had been brief - about three months - before she had moved on to follow what the Ardanians labeled as the War of Wrath. This enabled her to help keep certain instances in history alive in some form or another. She'd found Luthien - an elf who became mortal for the sake of her human lover - and managed to extract a goodly amount of their tale from her. When it became apparent that her very young student and ward had found herself in Arda and that Mab, the once queen of the fae, had made it her mission to attempt to go there with the help of The Morrighan, the possibility that Morgoth was their intended target had severely unsettled her. After all, the elven libraries contained copies of Laurel's travel journals. It was possible that one of the idiots read it and thought playing with literal dark fire was a good idea. After speaking with the Lady of the Wood for a good three hours she came to believe that such wasn't the case. Despite this newer revelation the gravity of the situation did not lessen. It didn't get worse as far as she knew and hoped that such was still the case as it would be a point in their favor.

Sauron.

She remembered him as some inconsequential thorn in everyone's side (at least, such was her opinion). At the time he'd been a mere servant of Morgoth who had enjoyed doing the Dark One's dirty work for him. As The Lady relayed her new tale to Laurel's ever growing apprehension and Artemis' continually budding concern, it became clear that Sauron was no longer a minion of little consequence. Casually, Laurel glanced at the white ring on Galadriel's forefinger from time to time when the elf woman described the War of the Rings. Isildur, Numenor, hobbits, the Nine, the Seven, High King Gil-Galad of the Noldor, The One Ring, and so much more were revealed that Laurel had to stop Galadriel to procure several pieces of parchment for the purpose of note-taking.

"As far as we know," Galadriel said gravely, "our Enemy is moving and yours along with him. Reports from the South tell of fell beasts and elves using the darkest of magic that are terrorizing the armies standing up to the forces of Mordor."

"Sounds as if we should have thought to bring an army," Artemis remarked.

"Too true," Galadriel had replied, "but we have you, and we have our queen. It will have to be enough."

All in all Laurel supposed the situation could have been better, but probably wasn't as bad as she originally thought it would be. This, in particular, because Galadriel informed her that her son-in-law had sent word to inform her of Brianna's pending arrival. Artemis had perked up at that bit of knowledge. They'd come to Arda to find Brianna and if Brianna came to them it cut out most of their work load. Unfortunately, Laurel suspected their time in Arda was not going to be brief and prepared herself for the long haul.

That initial meeting had ended a week earlier. At this point in our tale, Professor Laurel Moruni was taking the time to read through Celeborn's library in a particularly large Melorn tree the elves had grown to accommodate his large collection of writings. It took a while for her to remember how the world's elvish worked and the various nuances of each dialect, but she eventually worked it out.

"It has been far too long, Laurelie."

The professor looked up from a particular account about the One Ring written by the son of Isildur in the second age of Arda's recorded existence and replied, "I know. I haven't used that name for almost five hundred years. It almost feels too strange to hear it again."

Lady Galadriel glided into the room and gracefully lowered her tall and limber frame into one of the ornately carved wooden seats. Her golden hair fell from her scalp in long cascading waves. Blue eyes watched her intently as if trying to read her mind. Laurel rolled her eyes.

"Your ring doesn't give you power over my mind. I'm a bit too good at mind magic to put up with the attempt. Study for a few thousand years longer without the bloody thing and you might be good enough," she snapped gruffly.

Slowly, a smile spread across Galadriel's face as she replied, "It does my heart well to see you change so little."

Laurel felt, just a bit more charitable towards the woman than she originally had. It wasn't like she didn't understand where the elf woman was coming from. Galadriel had been notorious for seeking both power and knowledge so she could use it to better herself and others around her. She'd always wanted to rule, always wanted to found some great dynasty, and always fell short of completely doing both. The fact that she contented herself with Lorien and an incredibly unambitious Celeborn spoke the wonders of love and reflection and how both can change a person eventually. Even long suffering elves could learn something morally profound after thousands of years of existence.

"I haven't found something to change over yet. Give it time. I'm sure it will happen," Laurel replied dryly.

Galadriel sat in the chair across from her. Silence descended as tended to happen between people who have little in common and very little to say to each other. Laurel glanced at the book she had been reading.

"It's beneficial to read what the children had to say on the matter of the Ring. Valandil seems to have a particularly unique perspective on the matter," Laurel stated.

Galadriel nodded, "Very true. He became King of Arnor at such a young age. The fate of his father haunted him and his sons and daughters for as long as the line has endured."

Laurel frowned and tapped the top of the solid oak table, "And this Aragorn is Isildur's heir."

"Very much so."

"But Brianna isn't with him, she's with the Balrog Slayer and your grandchildren."

"Such as I have seen, and I have seen much."

"Hmm."

The situation wasn't ideal. The Space Between Galaxies had been ripped open. She could feel the walls crumbling every moment of the weeks she's resided in Lorien. Every breath she breathed stank of the dark magic used to taint the world. Once she was able to observe the damage from Arda's perspective Laurel was able to conclude where the damage had first been wrought: Mordor from Arda's side. Which meant that the only way they would be able to fix it is if they used Ardanian magic. They needed Brianna to learn how to repair the rip. Without her power acting as a base even she, one of the most skilled wielders of magic to walk the cosmos, wouldn't be able to make a dent in undoing the damage.

"She'll have to sing. We'll all need to sing," Laurel guessed.

Galadriel nodded, "In all instances, that is what I've seen."

"Of course."

Laurel looked out a round hollow, lips curled into a frown, and green eyes dimming ever so slightly. All of them could, theoretically, sing. Earth's magic didn't usually lend itself to weaving power into song, so few of them knew how to do it. Laurel did and the memory of how she knew echoed in the depths of her mind. The one thing she ever truly regretted.

"Did you… did you really see…?" She asked hesitantly.

Galadriel smiled, "All wait in Valinor. Even him."

"And Brianna? Did she actually…?" Laurel didn't know how to finish the question.

Did they dare hope it was her apprentice, of all people? Galadriel merely nodded. All suspicions were confirmed. Laurel sat back in her chair and drummed her fingers against the table. There was much she had to think about and a great deal she needed to prepare for.

"There are many instances that nothing will come of it. In those I see only one fate," Galadriel said.

"It ends with her dead or with Aries," Laurel guessed.

"Worse, I fear. I have seen him with her, fully embodied, and she a slave to him. All this if one small thing doesn't happen," the Lady emphasized.

"Of bloody course," Laurel muttered, mood sour.

She should have known. Anything involving her young apprentice would always be irritatingly complicated.