Author's Note: Sorry for them formatting lately- I don't know what's up
with my computer. So if everything is crap, it's not my fault. I've tried
and tried to get it right.
Chapter Six: The Light of Eärendil
The day wore on as Gimli and Aragorn, last of the tattered Fellowship of the Ring, trudged through the forest, their hearts heavy and their bodies sore from much travel and sorrow. It seemed odd to Aragorn how long it was taking to reach the edge of the wood, and after three hours of walking he glanced at Gimli, but if the dwarf was hindered by the same doubts he did not show it.
Presently they grew weary, as though an invisible cloak of sodden burlap had been thrown over the both of them, and their limbs sagged and their hearts grew distant. Strange whispers swirled in the dark spaces of the forest, in the shadows where no eye could pierce, not even that of the sun, risen high in the eastern sky. Erelong Gimli gave a shudder, and dropped his pack to the ground.
"This wood feels strange," he said gruffly, his hand straying lazily to his axe, as though he had not the power to wield it. " Do you feel it, Aragorn?"
"I feel something," the Ranger murmured. " A heaviness about the air."
" Aye, and I do not like it. I say we hurry out of this quickly."
" Something tells me we are watched, and that we will not leave this until whatever it is that hunts us wishes it to be so." Aragorn's hand strayed too to his own weapon, and he sat upon the leaves, breathless.
"Are you daft, Ranger?" Gimli demanded nervously. "Why have you stopped moving?"
" Look," Aragorn breathed, beckoning round him. Gimli looked, and then he too sat hard upon the ground.
A great darkness, like a living shadow, was materialising over the woods on all sides, closing in on the two travellers. A great hissing rose amongst the leaves, and within the darkness a myriad of eyes suddenly lit up, as red as blood. Aragorn could hear their shuffling in the dead stillness that had overtaken the forest, and a great fear rose in his heart. He clasped Gimli's shoulder and felt his own grabbed, and he gritted his teeth, awaiting his doom.
The shadows had nearly claimed the last of the nine friends, and far away, from the very bowels of Mount Doom of Mordor, a great voice rose in triumphant laughter.
~*~*~*~*~*~
The darkness had nearly reached them when Aragorn and Gimli were blinded by the brightest light they had ever witnessed; a thousand times greater than the dirty sun of midday. Both companions threw up their hands to shield their eyes as it engulfed them, and they could hear the agonised shrieks of the creatures that had hunted them in shadow. The noise grew until Aragorn thought he could bear it no more, and suddenly all was still and calm again, and a great silence swept the wood.
He chanced to open his eyes, and what he saw stole his breath.
Before he and Gimli stood a creature bathed in a light as pure as crystal, and the shape of its body was Elven, but no real face could be distinguished, masked by the sweet light which seemed to radiate from within it. It stood before the two benevolently, and for the first time in so very long, Aragorn felt a peace creep into his heart and chase away the darkness that had unfurled its tendrils there.
" Who are you?" he chanced to ask.
The creature answered in a voice more felt than heard, impossibly soft and gentle, yet wiser than all the things that had ever dwelled upon the earth, both great and small.
" Welcome, Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and Gimli, son of Gloin. I bid you to no longer fear the darkness; it cannot touch you now. I am Oenú, servant of Eärendil."
Chapter Six: The Light of Eärendil
The day wore on as Gimli and Aragorn, last of the tattered Fellowship of the Ring, trudged through the forest, their hearts heavy and their bodies sore from much travel and sorrow. It seemed odd to Aragorn how long it was taking to reach the edge of the wood, and after three hours of walking he glanced at Gimli, but if the dwarf was hindered by the same doubts he did not show it.
Presently they grew weary, as though an invisible cloak of sodden burlap had been thrown over the both of them, and their limbs sagged and their hearts grew distant. Strange whispers swirled in the dark spaces of the forest, in the shadows where no eye could pierce, not even that of the sun, risen high in the eastern sky. Erelong Gimli gave a shudder, and dropped his pack to the ground.
"This wood feels strange," he said gruffly, his hand straying lazily to his axe, as though he had not the power to wield it. " Do you feel it, Aragorn?"
"I feel something," the Ranger murmured. " A heaviness about the air."
" Aye, and I do not like it. I say we hurry out of this quickly."
" Something tells me we are watched, and that we will not leave this until whatever it is that hunts us wishes it to be so." Aragorn's hand strayed too to his own weapon, and he sat upon the leaves, breathless.
"Are you daft, Ranger?" Gimli demanded nervously. "Why have you stopped moving?"
" Look," Aragorn breathed, beckoning round him. Gimli looked, and then he too sat hard upon the ground.
A great darkness, like a living shadow, was materialising over the woods on all sides, closing in on the two travellers. A great hissing rose amongst the leaves, and within the darkness a myriad of eyes suddenly lit up, as red as blood. Aragorn could hear their shuffling in the dead stillness that had overtaken the forest, and a great fear rose in his heart. He clasped Gimli's shoulder and felt his own grabbed, and he gritted his teeth, awaiting his doom.
The shadows had nearly claimed the last of the nine friends, and far away, from the very bowels of Mount Doom of Mordor, a great voice rose in triumphant laughter.
~*~*~*~*~*~
The darkness had nearly reached them when Aragorn and Gimli were blinded by the brightest light they had ever witnessed; a thousand times greater than the dirty sun of midday. Both companions threw up their hands to shield their eyes as it engulfed them, and they could hear the agonised shrieks of the creatures that had hunted them in shadow. The noise grew until Aragorn thought he could bear it no more, and suddenly all was still and calm again, and a great silence swept the wood.
He chanced to open his eyes, and what he saw stole his breath.
Before he and Gimli stood a creature bathed in a light as pure as crystal, and the shape of its body was Elven, but no real face could be distinguished, masked by the sweet light which seemed to radiate from within it. It stood before the two benevolently, and for the first time in so very long, Aragorn felt a peace creep into his heart and chase away the darkness that had unfurled its tendrils there.
" Who are you?" he chanced to ask.
The creature answered in a voice more felt than heard, impossibly soft and gentle, yet wiser than all the things that had ever dwelled upon the earth, both great and small.
" Welcome, Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and Gimli, son of Gloin. I bid you to no longer fear the darkness; it cannot touch you now. I am Oenú, servant of Eärendil."
