1 Chapter 4
"Lord Imrahil!" The Captain of the Guard pounded frantically on the door.
Imrahil shook his head to clear his gaze and blinked back the tears that welled in his eyes. He turned and pulled open the door, greeting the Captain with a blank stare. "What is it?"
The Captain forgot his words at the sight of the man before him and stopped short. He couldn't help but look over Imrahil's shoulder and into the room behind. What he saw there frightened him. From the grieving looks of the faces of the people within, he knew that the man who they'd carried into the long unused King's chambers had died. Aragorn's name was whispered on the lips of the people that still remained in the city. 'Our King has returned in our hour of darkest need', they said. On their heels followed the frantic whispers that he had been injured in battle.
Imrahil saw the unvoiced question sitting on the Captain's lips and nodded slowly. "He did not survive his wounds."
The Captain sighed and bowed his head in reverence to the fallen king.
"What news have you?" Imrahil asked quietly after several moments of silence.
The Captain suddenly remembered what had brought him so quickly to the door and replied urgently, "Faramir has been injured, My Lord. And the lady Eowyn of Rohan and one of the Halflings from the North."
Imrahil's eyes widened and he shook his head dejectedly. "Not Faramir too. Will this terrible day never end?"
The twins heads lifted as they overheard Imrahil's wail of despair. They immediately looked to their father for a reaction. When Elrond raised his head, the twins cringed at the grief they saw reflected in their his eyes, etched into his wizened features.
Too overwhelmed with grief, Elrond waved his hand in a dismissive gesture toward his sons. "Save him. He is the last of the Stewards of Gondor. He must not die. Gondor must have a King."
"Your skill in the healing arts is unmatched, Elrond," Gandalf said slowly. The wizard settled his hand on the Elven Lord's shoulder. "Your skills will be needed to save his life."
Elrond motioned for the Captain to enter and asked, "From where came his wound?"
The Captain took one step into the room and froze. The grief and pain etched into the faces of everyone present sent chills down his spine. He wanted to do nothing more than run screaming from the room never to return. Instead, he stared unblinking at the wet cheeks of the Lord of Rivendell. "A- a Black Rider's dart pierced his chest, My Lord."
Elrond sighed and bowed his head. "More deadly poison." The Elven lord stared down at hands unmarred by the passing of time. His gaze flicked over the motionless forms lying on the bed and he choked back a sob. "My hands have not healed today." Moments of silence passed before he continued. "I fear that ability is now lost to me."
"You can save the life of this man so that there is a noble line left to rule Gondor." Galadriel spoke slowly from behind her son. "His life is in your hands."
Elrond's hands shook and his indecision was etched plainly into a face hardly touched by his six thousand years of existence. Silently, Celeborn stepped forward and rested a firm hand on Elrond's shoulder, offering wordless support with the simple gesture. Elrond slowly exhaled a long breath and closed his eyes. His decision reached, he took one last look at the couple lying on the bed and strode determinedly out the door.
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Galadriel lost the strength to remain upright and slid to the floor. She reached out to touch the motionless couple and choked back a sob. Celeborn, concerned for his wife, knelt at her side, wrapping comforting arms around her shoulders and lending her his strength.
"It cannot end this way." Galadriel whispered, crystal tears sliding down her cheeks. "The mirror did not show this future."
"You cannot see all things, my love." Celeborn said sadly. Strong hands rubbed her shoulders but the grief in his eyes could not be concealed.
"We've won," Gandalf whispered to no one in particular. He cast a sad look toward the bed, then to the kneeling Galadriel and Celeborn. "But I fear the price for such a victory was far too high."
"I would rather fight for the rest of my days the evil of Sauron, than to see Aragorn forfeit his life." Legolas declared. He paced angrily around the room, hands balling into fists. "And Arwen." he took a deep breath rather than expel a huge sob. "Never would I have wished to witness the death of one so fair due to grief."
Elladan and Elrohir sat beside their sister on the bed, each independently reaching out to touch her. They needed that final contact, to say, silently, that final goodbye. Tears welled in their eyes for their family that had been torn in two. They knew more pain waited in the wings. It didn't take elvish senses to feel it, for they knew their father would not last through the deaths of two of his children.
"Can you do nothing?" Legolas stepped into Gandalf's view, eyes narrowed and lips contorted into an angry frown. Gimli blinked back the shock at the range of emotion that crossed his friend's features. The elf's eyes flicked to Galadriel and then back to Gandalf. "You are Ring-bearers. You hold the power of water and fire in your hands. Can you not call upon the Valar to aid us?"
"It is forbidden, young one." Galadriel said sadly. "We cannot call upon…."
"Offer them a life in exchange. I will go." Legolas stepped further into the light, revealing the steady flow of tears that fell down his cheeks. "I will give my life for him. If they would but accept the offer."
Galadriel exchanged a knowing look with Gandalf before turning to her husband. A slim hand raised to her forehead, then to her lips, and toward his face in a gesture of farewell. Celeborn's eyes slid shut with the knowledge of what his wife was about to attempt.
"It could fail, and you would all be lost." Came his weak protest.
"It is a risk," Galadriel stared at Gandalf, who nodded in affirmation, "we are willing to take."
"I won't lose you," Celeborn's eyes were wide with a fear no one had ever before seen.
Galadriel turned to her husband and regarded him with a thoughtful smile. "Our time has come to an end." She turned sadly to the couple lying on the bed. "Their time had just begun. It is not their future to fall today. I will not allow it to happen if there is a shred of power in my hands to stop it." She turned to Gandalf and nodded.
Celeborn closed his eyes and resigned himself to watch in silence the task his wife was about to perform.
Gandalf raised his ring, Narya, and cried, in a voice that both frightened and excited those that stood in awe of the power displayed before their eyes. "Olorin calls on you, Nienna, queen of Mourning. Take this ring of fire and bend it to your will. I use it and its power one last time in exchange for the life of the true King of Men. Raise him! Let your tears bring healing and your lesson to the lesser beings one of pity, hope, & the endurance of the spirit. Your greatest pupil calls upon you! I beg of you to hear his call!"
Galadriel raised Nenya, invoking the power of her elven ring. She called to the Chief of the Valar: Manwe. Legends told that he was both compassionate and wise and she raised her voice in song hoping that he would hear her plea and come to their aid. "You saved Beren when he fell into shadow. You gave Luthien a new life, with her beloved. I beg you now to give Arwen and Aragorn that chance."
Thunder began to echo above them and lightening lit the sky in cracks that made them shudder in fear. A light, brighter and whiter than the sun blindingly filled the room.
"Who dare's call upon the power of the Valar?" The booming voice reverberated through their bones.
"I, Galadriel of Lorien, High Queen of the Elves, bearer of the ring of power known as Nenya."
"I, Gandalf the Grey, Mithrindir of the Istari, bearer of the ring of power known as Narya."
A form slowly materialized before their eyes, blurry, ever changing in a shimmer of light and silk. The image was difficult to see, appearing only as a wisp of flickering mist.
"We call upon you one last time, before we journey over the Sea, to save the life of the last remaining heir to the line of Isildur."
The voice laughed, the sound at once chilling and comforting. "You call upon me for something so trivial?"
"Is it not important, when the elves journey across the Sea, that there be one of strong blood to lead the people of Middle-Earth?" Gandalf asked, his voice raised as the power of the ring took hold.
"Have we not safely protected the heir's of Isildur only to see our struggle fail with the death of this man?"
"His fate could not have been changed. It was the will of the –"
"It was the will of the Valar that my daughter should die in the arms of the only man she has ever loved? It was her fate to die not from any wound but of such immense grief as can only destroy an immortal Elf?" Elrond stormed into the room, eyes blazing and fists clenched. He had done what he could for Faramir. His fate now lay in the strength of his will to survive. Elrond wasted no time in returning to his daughter's deathbed.
"Beren and Luthien suffered a similar fate."
"They lived out their lives together until his life was taken. She followed him, for her grief was too strong to go on living without him," Elrond recounted the story well-known to all elves. "Yet, Mandos was persuaded by Manwe to allow them to return
to Middle-earth for a while longer. You can hardly compare these circumstances."
The being turned its attention away from the angry father and toward those responsible for calling it to Middle-Earth. "You have crossed a boundary that none before you have dared to traverse." It favored each with a harsh frown of disapproval. "How you have done this with only two of the three elven rings of power, I cannot see."
Elrond stared at Galadriel and Gandalf in disbelief. To risk calling upon the Valar in such a way was unthinkable. Elrond shook his head and immediately removed his ring, holding it in his open palm. "And I now add the power of the third, and last of the elven rings of power, Vilya, to their call."
Standing together, rings resting on open palms, the bands began to glow and a small hum began to sing into the air. The three rings drawn together for the first time in ages, their power called upon not to smite down an enemy, but to raise the lives of the two dearest to the ring-bearers.
"You are foolish to brave the wrath of the Valar for this invocation." The being's eyes glowed with a secret fire, so powerful in its intensity the three ring-bearers bowed their heads. "For such impudence, you should be punished."
"Love has driven them to call upon you!" Legolas snapped, eyeing the Valar with contempt. "You would punish them when all that they love lay dead before their eyes?"
The being's gaze softened at Legolas' harsh words. The hollow's that served as its eyes could be seen flickering with sadness." Your shrine to me has been well cared for. You are to be commended." A moment of silence followed before it added. "My heart grieves for your loss."
Suddenly, the form materialized into the body of the most beautiful woman they had ever seen - more beautiful than the Evenstar herself. The very image of this woman was carved above every elven bed, in respect and admiration for the Valar. Aragorn's very mother was buried at the foot of a statue carved in her image. The Elves gasped and those that were not already on their knees, fell to the floor in reverence to the High One's revelation.
"Elbereth." Elrond whispered, daring to look up into the luminous eyes that stared intensely down at him.
"The purity of your request has softened my heart." Kind, sad eyes turned to the couple lying on the bed as the ring-bearers raised their heads at the Valar's words.
"I will grant one request." Elbereth said. "But you must choose. You may have one of the fallen returned to you."
Imrahil and Gimli swallowed nervously. Legolas and the twins exchanged a look of fear. Elrond couldn't make the choice. He was unsure if any of them could choose between Arwen and Aragorn.
Elrond closed his eyes, his worst fears, upon seeing Elbereth coming to life before his very eyes, realized.
Gandalf and Galadriel nodded and bowed their heads, unwilling to argue with a God of the Valar.
Long moments of silence passed as they waited for one of the ring-bearers to speak Imrahil and Gimli silently wondered who had the authority to make such a decision. Which one of them would choose who lived and who remained within death's grip?
Slowly, Elrond raised his head, tears once again marring bright paths down his cheeks. "The people of Gondor, indeed, of all Middle-Earth, have more need of a King, than I do a daughter."
Galadriel's eyes flickered with a knowledge that Elrond, in his grief did not see. She had been there when Aragorn had been reunited with Arwen among the trees of Lothlorien. She had watched from afar the two unlikely individuals fall in love under the autumn leaves and the midnight stars. Galadriel turned eyes filled with tears toward Elrond. "One would not wish to live without the other."
The twins inhaled deeply, drawing the attention of their father. They realized with a sharp pang that their grandmother was right. But they were torn between the lack of an heir to rebuild all that Sauron had destroyed and a life filled with misery should Aragorn be raised without Arwen at his side.
But Elrond could only see a terrible future were Gondor to have no King. A future filled with misery and heartache.
With a heavy heart, weighing all of the possibilities for the future that he could see, Elrond said slowly. "Raise the heir of Elendil."
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So this turned out to be longer than I thought. There will be one more chapter.
Don't expect it to end with a happy celebration…..
"Lord Imrahil!" The Captain of the Guard pounded frantically on the door.
Imrahil shook his head to clear his gaze and blinked back the tears that welled in his eyes. He turned and pulled open the door, greeting the Captain with a blank stare. "What is it?"
The Captain forgot his words at the sight of the man before him and stopped short. He couldn't help but look over Imrahil's shoulder and into the room behind. What he saw there frightened him. From the grieving looks of the faces of the people within, he knew that the man who they'd carried into the long unused King's chambers had died. Aragorn's name was whispered on the lips of the people that still remained in the city. 'Our King has returned in our hour of darkest need', they said. On their heels followed the frantic whispers that he had been injured in battle.
Imrahil saw the unvoiced question sitting on the Captain's lips and nodded slowly. "He did not survive his wounds."
The Captain sighed and bowed his head in reverence to the fallen king.
"What news have you?" Imrahil asked quietly after several moments of silence.
The Captain suddenly remembered what had brought him so quickly to the door and replied urgently, "Faramir has been injured, My Lord. And the lady Eowyn of Rohan and one of the Halflings from the North."
Imrahil's eyes widened and he shook his head dejectedly. "Not Faramir too. Will this terrible day never end?"
The twins heads lifted as they overheard Imrahil's wail of despair. They immediately looked to their father for a reaction. When Elrond raised his head, the twins cringed at the grief they saw reflected in their his eyes, etched into his wizened features.
Too overwhelmed with grief, Elrond waved his hand in a dismissive gesture toward his sons. "Save him. He is the last of the Stewards of Gondor. He must not die. Gondor must have a King."
"Your skill in the healing arts is unmatched, Elrond," Gandalf said slowly. The wizard settled his hand on the Elven Lord's shoulder. "Your skills will be needed to save his life."
Elrond motioned for the Captain to enter and asked, "From where came his wound?"
The Captain took one step into the room and froze. The grief and pain etched into the faces of everyone present sent chills down his spine. He wanted to do nothing more than run screaming from the room never to return. Instead, he stared unblinking at the wet cheeks of the Lord of Rivendell. "A- a Black Rider's dart pierced his chest, My Lord."
Elrond sighed and bowed his head. "More deadly poison." The Elven lord stared down at hands unmarred by the passing of time. His gaze flicked over the motionless forms lying on the bed and he choked back a sob. "My hands have not healed today." Moments of silence passed before he continued. "I fear that ability is now lost to me."
"You can save the life of this man so that there is a noble line left to rule Gondor." Galadriel spoke slowly from behind her son. "His life is in your hands."
Elrond's hands shook and his indecision was etched plainly into a face hardly touched by his six thousand years of existence. Silently, Celeborn stepped forward and rested a firm hand on Elrond's shoulder, offering wordless support with the simple gesture. Elrond slowly exhaled a long breath and closed his eyes. His decision reached, he took one last look at the couple lying on the bed and strode determinedly out the door.
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Galadriel lost the strength to remain upright and slid to the floor. She reached out to touch the motionless couple and choked back a sob. Celeborn, concerned for his wife, knelt at her side, wrapping comforting arms around her shoulders and lending her his strength.
"It cannot end this way." Galadriel whispered, crystal tears sliding down her cheeks. "The mirror did not show this future."
"You cannot see all things, my love." Celeborn said sadly. Strong hands rubbed her shoulders but the grief in his eyes could not be concealed.
"We've won," Gandalf whispered to no one in particular. He cast a sad look toward the bed, then to the kneeling Galadriel and Celeborn. "But I fear the price for such a victory was far too high."
"I would rather fight for the rest of my days the evil of Sauron, than to see Aragorn forfeit his life." Legolas declared. He paced angrily around the room, hands balling into fists. "And Arwen." he took a deep breath rather than expel a huge sob. "Never would I have wished to witness the death of one so fair due to grief."
Elladan and Elrohir sat beside their sister on the bed, each independently reaching out to touch her. They needed that final contact, to say, silently, that final goodbye. Tears welled in their eyes for their family that had been torn in two. They knew more pain waited in the wings. It didn't take elvish senses to feel it, for they knew their father would not last through the deaths of two of his children.
"Can you do nothing?" Legolas stepped into Gandalf's view, eyes narrowed and lips contorted into an angry frown. Gimli blinked back the shock at the range of emotion that crossed his friend's features. The elf's eyes flicked to Galadriel and then back to Gandalf. "You are Ring-bearers. You hold the power of water and fire in your hands. Can you not call upon the Valar to aid us?"
"It is forbidden, young one." Galadriel said sadly. "We cannot call upon…."
"Offer them a life in exchange. I will go." Legolas stepped further into the light, revealing the steady flow of tears that fell down his cheeks. "I will give my life for him. If they would but accept the offer."
Galadriel exchanged a knowing look with Gandalf before turning to her husband. A slim hand raised to her forehead, then to her lips, and toward his face in a gesture of farewell. Celeborn's eyes slid shut with the knowledge of what his wife was about to attempt.
"It could fail, and you would all be lost." Came his weak protest.
"It is a risk," Galadriel stared at Gandalf, who nodded in affirmation, "we are willing to take."
"I won't lose you," Celeborn's eyes were wide with a fear no one had ever before seen.
Galadriel turned to her husband and regarded him with a thoughtful smile. "Our time has come to an end." She turned sadly to the couple lying on the bed. "Their time had just begun. It is not their future to fall today. I will not allow it to happen if there is a shred of power in my hands to stop it." She turned to Gandalf and nodded.
Celeborn closed his eyes and resigned himself to watch in silence the task his wife was about to perform.
Gandalf raised his ring, Narya, and cried, in a voice that both frightened and excited those that stood in awe of the power displayed before their eyes. "Olorin calls on you, Nienna, queen of Mourning. Take this ring of fire and bend it to your will. I use it and its power one last time in exchange for the life of the true King of Men. Raise him! Let your tears bring healing and your lesson to the lesser beings one of pity, hope, & the endurance of the spirit. Your greatest pupil calls upon you! I beg of you to hear his call!"
Galadriel raised Nenya, invoking the power of her elven ring. She called to the Chief of the Valar: Manwe. Legends told that he was both compassionate and wise and she raised her voice in song hoping that he would hear her plea and come to their aid. "You saved Beren when he fell into shadow. You gave Luthien a new life, with her beloved. I beg you now to give Arwen and Aragorn that chance."
Thunder began to echo above them and lightening lit the sky in cracks that made them shudder in fear. A light, brighter and whiter than the sun blindingly filled the room.
"Who dare's call upon the power of the Valar?" The booming voice reverberated through their bones.
"I, Galadriel of Lorien, High Queen of the Elves, bearer of the ring of power known as Nenya."
"I, Gandalf the Grey, Mithrindir of the Istari, bearer of the ring of power known as Narya."
A form slowly materialized before their eyes, blurry, ever changing in a shimmer of light and silk. The image was difficult to see, appearing only as a wisp of flickering mist.
"We call upon you one last time, before we journey over the Sea, to save the life of the last remaining heir to the line of Isildur."
The voice laughed, the sound at once chilling and comforting. "You call upon me for something so trivial?"
"Is it not important, when the elves journey across the Sea, that there be one of strong blood to lead the people of Middle-Earth?" Gandalf asked, his voice raised as the power of the ring took hold.
"Have we not safely protected the heir's of Isildur only to see our struggle fail with the death of this man?"
"His fate could not have been changed. It was the will of the –"
"It was the will of the Valar that my daughter should die in the arms of the only man she has ever loved? It was her fate to die not from any wound but of such immense grief as can only destroy an immortal Elf?" Elrond stormed into the room, eyes blazing and fists clenched. He had done what he could for Faramir. His fate now lay in the strength of his will to survive. Elrond wasted no time in returning to his daughter's deathbed.
"Beren and Luthien suffered a similar fate."
"They lived out their lives together until his life was taken. She followed him, for her grief was too strong to go on living without him," Elrond recounted the story well-known to all elves. "Yet, Mandos was persuaded by Manwe to allow them to return
to Middle-earth for a while longer. You can hardly compare these circumstances."
The being turned its attention away from the angry father and toward those responsible for calling it to Middle-Earth. "You have crossed a boundary that none before you have dared to traverse." It favored each with a harsh frown of disapproval. "How you have done this with only two of the three elven rings of power, I cannot see."
Elrond stared at Galadriel and Gandalf in disbelief. To risk calling upon the Valar in such a way was unthinkable. Elrond shook his head and immediately removed his ring, holding it in his open palm. "And I now add the power of the third, and last of the elven rings of power, Vilya, to their call."
Standing together, rings resting on open palms, the bands began to glow and a small hum began to sing into the air. The three rings drawn together for the first time in ages, their power called upon not to smite down an enemy, but to raise the lives of the two dearest to the ring-bearers.
"You are foolish to brave the wrath of the Valar for this invocation." The being's eyes glowed with a secret fire, so powerful in its intensity the three ring-bearers bowed their heads. "For such impudence, you should be punished."
"Love has driven them to call upon you!" Legolas snapped, eyeing the Valar with contempt. "You would punish them when all that they love lay dead before their eyes?"
The being's gaze softened at Legolas' harsh words. The hollow's that served as its eyes could be seen flickering with sadness." Your shrine to me has been well cared for. You are to be commended." A moment of silence followed before it added. "My heart grieves for your loss."
Suddenly, the form materialized into the body of the most beautiful woman they had ever seen - more beautiful than the Evenstar herself. The very image of this woman was carved above every elven bed, in respect and admiration for the Valar. Aragorn's very mother was buried at the foot of a statue carved in her image. The Elves gasped and those that were not already on their knees, fell to the floor in reverence to the High One's revelation.
"Elbereth." Elrond whispered, daring to look up into the luminous eyes that stared intensely down at him.
"The purity of your request has softened my heart." Kind, sad eyes turned to the couple lying on the bed as the ring-bearers raised their heads at the Valar's words.
"I will grant one request." Elbereth said. "But you must choose. You may have one of the fallen returned to you."
Imrahil and Gimli swallowed nervously. Legolas and the twins exchanged a look of fear. Elrond couldn't make the choice. He was unsure if any of them could choose between Arwen and Aragorn.
Elrond closed his eyes, his worst fears, upon seeing Elbereth coming to life before his very eyes, realized.
Gandalf and Galadriel nodded and bowed their heads, unwilling to argue with a God of the Valar.
Long moments of silence passed as they waited for one of the ring-bearers to speak Imrahil and Gimli silently wondered who had the authority to make such a decision. Which one of them would choose who lived and who remained within death's grip?
Slowly, Elrond raised his head, tears once again marring bright paths down his cheeks. "The people of Gondor, indeed, of all Middle-Earth, have more need of a King, than I do a daughter."
Galadriel's eyes flickered with a knowledge that Elrond, in his grief did not see. She had been there when Aragorn had been reunited with Arwen among the trees of Lothlorien. She had watched from afar the two unlikely individuals fall in love under the autumn leaves and the midnight stars. Galadriel turned eyes filled with tears toward Elrond. "One would not wish to live without the other."
The twins inhaled deeply, drawing the attention of their father. They realized with a sharp pang that their grandmother was right. But they were torn between the lack of an heir to rebuild all that Sauron had destroyed and a life filled with misery should Aragorn be raised without Arwen at his side.
But Elrond could only see a terrible future were Gondor to have no King. A future filled with misery and heartache.
With a heavy heart, weighing all of the possibilities for the future that he could see, Elrond said slowly. "Raise the heir of Elendil."
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So this turned out to be longer than I thought. There will be one more chapter.
Don't expect it to end with a happy celebration…..