~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Dear Lord. My dear, dear Lord."
Kara had been here for an inestimable time, on her face before a Blinding Light. The elves called it Lim, a bright, sparkling light. It was her Abba, her Father. The God of her birth stood before her here, wordlessly filling her with awe.
Finally, Kara pulled herself upright, head still bowed in adoration. A deep chuckle from the throne made her want to leap.
"You've been here a long time resting, little one."
"I know, Abba. I have a question..." He said nothing. Kara continued.
"...Have I failed?" Gently, Abba reached out and clasped her hand.
"Would I have brought you here if you had?"
"Well...I don't see that I did anything of value." Kara looked away, ashamed to feel so inadequate in front of a King.
"You did what I set you out to do. By preventing or causing a few minor events, you set in motion a chain reaction. That reaction brought about My will That, dear one, is not failure."
"...So, am I done, now?"
"Not by far. There is so much more for you to do...Your first order of business is to recieve a gift I've given you. The first part of your life was horribly painful. When you return to your body, follow the instruction of your Mark. Do not let your heart interfere. I will guide you."
"...Father, will you be there with me?"
"Every step, dearest one."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kara was cold. It wasn't an unpleasant, bone-chilling cold, nor was it numbing. It was a kind of cold that cradled her senses, arguing with them that they should wake up. Since trying to open her eyes was not working, Kara tried to remember where she was.
Then a flash of memory hit her. The screams of battle, Merry and Pippin being dragged away, looming black monsters. She remembered the sword in her shoulder, the piercing pain, the warm flow of blood. Kara opened her eyes and raised her hand to cup the wound.
It was healed. The dress she wore was torn and bloodstained, but her skin was smooth and unscarred. Her chest was glowing still, but the burning feeling was curiously absent. Slowly, Kara levered herself upright and looked around.
They were in the same forest, but different. It looked like spring, when she remembered it being fall. She looked down at the mark on her chest questioningly.
"...I am reasonably sure something has gone awry. Do I get any hints from you or do you intend to leave me in ignorance?" Briefly, she stopped and glanced into the woods on either side.
"I would do better to silence myself. Speaking to things that do not live is one matter, but holding a conversation with one's chest is something entirely different and altogether disturbing."
Slowly, Kara pushed herself upright and looked around. She seemed to be alone, which could only mean one thing. The fellowship had abandoned her. That, in turn, could only mean they had thought she was dead.
How wonderful.
"Well, at least I've maintained my sense of humor." Kara blinked.
"...of course, it is quite difficult NOT to have a sense of humor when you are speaking to your cleavage."
Her chest was still aglow. The Mark seemed to be urging her to do something. She felt a peculiar desire to go back the way they had come, and quickly. Absent were the questions she should have been asking---where was the Fellowship, what had happened, how long had she slept, and why wasn't she dead? Instead, one thought looped round and round. Go that way. Go that way NOW. Kara shrugged, seeing no reason to resist, and stepped out in the direction her mark was leading her.
She had gone no more than a few steps when she felt something bump her thigh. Kara looked down and gasped softly. Boromir's horn was looped around her shoulder, hanging nearly to her knee. Boromir must have left it with her as a token. Her eyes filled with tears as she ran her fingertips over the weathered strap.
"...Dear Boromir. Please be well when I return to you."
Day turned into night, night blended into day, days into weeks. Kara knew no fatigue. Though her mark didn't burn her at first, as the days went on the fire returned. Sometimes her shoulder hurt terribly. She could have sworn she still felt the blade grating against her collarbone. The pain did not daunt her. On she ran. From time to time she would stop, lay down where she stood, and fall into a deep sleep. She did not know how long she stayed unconscious during these times, but when she awoke she always stood back up and immediately began running again.
After what seemed to Kara like years, she began to recognize the terrain. It grew fairer, more mountainous. She did not take time to stop and examine it. Her entire soul was focused on going forward along the path the Mark showed her. Kara traveled into the night.
Then, after incalculable days of traveling, Kara spotted a familiar sight in the distance. Tears of relief brimmed in her eyes. It was the gates of Rivendell. Kara's own emotions drove her on now. Feelings of homesickness, loneliness, and above all, an intense need to hear news of the ones she loved. Kara slid to a stop at the closed gates, slithering into the wooden beams and pounding with both fists. The watchman's door slid open.
"What is your name, and what business have you in Rivendell?" Kara stood on tiptoe, hands grasping at the carved stone on either side of the gate.
"My name is Kara! I am the Bearer of the Mark---I Calad Aur!" Kara's fingers trembled as she pulled her collar down low enough for the watchman to see her mark. Two luminous elfin eyes widened, and she heard the bar being removed from the gate. The watchman ushered her in, his quick steps leading her along a path she knew well---the path to Elrond's abode. Kara reached out and grasped his sleeve.
"Please, can you tell me if Tathren and Faradir are in the city?" The watchman nodded.
"They have not left for months. Shall I send someone to fetch them?"
"Yes please, and with haste." She was conducted into the front hall of Elrond's house. Upon seeing the familiar room, Kara was overcome with an overwhelming desire to sleep. Her feet and ankles began to give. The familiar sensation of her body shutting down washed over her, and she sank to the floor, propping herself against the wall. Her hands trembled with fatigue, intense cold seeping into her bones.
It seemed to be only moments later that the door opened and admitted three elves---the same three that had conducted her into this room the last time she came to Rivendell. Kara looked up at them, but found herself incapable of speaking. Tathren leaned down and pulled her into a hug. Kara heard her speak, but her mind refused to process the words. Elrond leaned over and touched her forehead, motioning for Faradir to do something. The room spun. Kara struggled to see, then gave up as blackness closed in on her, covering her in velvet numbness.
"I do wish you would take a bit longer to rest, dear one." Kara shook her head at Tathren, securing the strap of her pack.
"I have no time to waste. I can move faster and will be more trusted than any messenger. I must see for myself that the others are all right." Her movements were jerky, her face tense. Faradir shook his head.
"I agree with Tathren. You do not look well."
"Thank you."
"...You know quite well what I mean. Will you at least let one of us travel with you?"
"Lord Elrond needs you here." Kara turned to look at the two elves who had become her closest family. She did not want to leave them, but the Vision given to her was still fresh in her mind. She had to follow the promptings from her Father, not from her own soul. Her eyes were bottomless pools.
"I love you both, and once he has discharged you, I will beg you to come to Gondor. But not until then." Managing a weak smile, she reached out and embraced them. Then she pulled away and slipped out the door.
Tathren turned to her cousin with a sigh.
"It is Boromir she seeks. Do you know what has become of him?"
"If he has not improved since I heard of him last, he has surely died."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Dear Lord. My dear, dear Lord."
Kara had been here for an inestimable time, on her face before a Blinding Light. The elves called it Lim, a bright, sparkling light. It was her Abba, her Father. The God of her birth stood before her here, wordlessly filling her with awe.
Finally, Kara pulled herself upright, head still bowed in adoration. A deep chuckle from the throne made her want to leap.
"You've been here a long time resting, little one."
"I know, Abba. I have a question..." He said nothing. Kara continued.
"...Have I failed?" Gently, Abba reached out and clasped her hand.
"Would I have brought you here if you had?"
"Well...I don't see that I did anything of value." Kara looked away, ashamed to feel so inadequate in front of a King.
"You did what I set you out to do. By preventing or causing a few minor events, you set in motion a chain reaction. That reaction brought about My will That, dear one, is not failure."
"...So, am I done, now?"
"Not by far. There is so much more for you to do...Your first order of business is to recieve a gift I've given you. The first part of your life was horribly painful. When you return to your body, follow the instruction of your Mark. Do not let your heart interfere. I will guide you."
"...Father, will you be there with me?"
"Every step, dearest one."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kara was cold. It wasn't an unpleasant, bone-chilling cold, nor was it numbing. It was a kind of cold that cradled her senses, arguing with them that they should wake up. Since trying to open her eyes was not working, Kara tried to remember where she was.
Then a flash of memory hit her. The screams of battle, Merry and Pippin being dragged away, looming black monsters. She remembered the sword in her shoulder, the piercing pain, the warm flow of blood. Kara opened her eyes and raised her hand to cup the wound.
It was healed. The dress she wore was torn and bloodstained, but her skin was smooth and unscarred. Her chest was glowing still, but the burning feeling was curiously absent. Slowly, Kara levered herself upright and looked around.
They were in the same forest, but different. It looked like spring, when she remembered it being fall. She looked down at the mark on her chest questioningly.
"...I am reasonably sure something has gone awry. Do I get any hints from you or do you intend to leave me in ignorance?" Briefly, she stopped and glanced into the woods on either side.
"I would do better to silence myself. Speaking to things that do not live is one matter, but holding a conversation with one's chest is something entirely different and altogether disturbing."
Slowly, Kara pushed herself upright and looked around. She seemed to be alone, which could only mean one thing. The fellowship had abandoned her. That, in turn, could only mean they had thought she was dead.
How wonderful.
"Well, at least I've maintained my sense of humor." Kara blinked.
"...of course, it is quite difficult NOT to have a sense of humor when you are speaking to your cleavage."
Her chest was still aglow. The Mark seemed to be urging her to do something. She felt a peculiar desire to go back the way they had come, and quickly. Absent were the questions she should have been asking---where was the Fellowship, what had happened, how long had she slept, and why wasn't she dead? Instead, one thought looped round and round. Go that way. Go that way NOW. Kara shrugged, seeing no reason to resist, and stepped out in the direction her mark was leading her.
She had gone no more than a few steps when she felt something bump her thigh. Kara looked down and gasped softly. Boromir's horn was looped around her shoulder, hanging nearly to her knee. Boromir must have left it with her as a token. Her eyes filled with tears as she ran her fingertips over the weathered strap.
"...Dear Boromir. Please be well when I return to you."
Day turned into night, night blended into day, days into weeks. Kara knew no fatigue. Though her mark didn't burn her at first, as the days went on the fire returned. Sometimes her shoulder hurt terribly. She could have sworn she still felt the blade grating against her collarbone. The pain did not daunt her. On she ran. From time to time she would stop, lay down where she stood, and fall into a deep sleep. She did not know how long she stayed unconscious during these times, but when she awoke she always stood back up and immediately began running again.
After what seemed to Kara like years, she began to recognize the terrain. It grew fairer, more mountainous. She did not take time to stop and examine it. Her entire soul was focused on going forward along the path the Mark showed her. Kara traveled into the night.
Then, after incalculable days of traveling, Kara spotted a familiar sight in the distance. Tears of relief brimmed in her eyes. It was the gates of Rivendell. Kara's own emotions drove her on now. Feelings of homesickness, loneliness, and above all, an intense need to hear news of the ones she loved. Kara slid to a stop at the closed gates, slithering into the wooden beams and pounding with both fists. The watchman's door slid open.
"What is your name, and what business have you in Rivendell?" Kara stood on tiptoe, hands grasping at the carved stone on either side of the gate.
"My name is Kara! I am the Bearer of the Mark---I Calad Aur!" Kara's fingers trembled as she pulled her collar down low enough for the watchman to see her mark. Two luminous elfin eyes widened, and she heard the bar being removed from the gate. The watchman ushered her in, his quick steps leading her along a path she knew well---the path to Elrond's abode. Kara reached out and grasped his sleeve.
"Please, can you tell me if Tathren and Faradir are in the city?" The watchman nodded.
"They have not left for months. Shall I send someone to fetch them?"
"Yes please, and with haste." She was conducted into the front hall of Elrond's house. Upon seeing the familiar room, Kara was overcome with an overwhelming desire to sleep. Her feet and ankles began to give. The familiar sensation of her body shutting down washed over her, and she sank to the floor, propping herself against the wall. Her hands trembled with fatigue, intense cold seeping into her bones.
It seemed to be only moments later that the door opened and admitted three elves---the same three that had conducted her into this room the last time she came to Rivendell. Kara looked up at them, but found herself incapable of speaking. Tathren leaned down and pulled her into a hug. Kara heard her speak, but her mind refused to process the words. Elrond leaned over and touched her forehead, motioning for Faradir to do something. The room spun. Kara struggled to see, then gave up as blackness closed in on her, covering her in velvet numbness.
"I do wish you would take a bit longer to rest, dear one." Kara shook her head at Tathren, securing the strap of her pack.
"I have no time to waste. I can move faster and will be more trusted than any messenger. I must see for myself that the others are all right." Her movements were jerky, her face tense. Faradir shook his head.
"I agree with Tathren. You do not look well."
"Thank you."
"...You know quite well what I mean. Will you at least let one of us travel with you?"
"Lord Elrond needs you here." Kara turned to look at the two elves who had become her closest family. She did not want to leave them, but the Vision given to her was still fresh in her mind. She had to follow the promptings from her Father, not from her own soul. Her eyes were bottomless pools.
"I love you both, and once he has discharged you, I will beg you to come to Gondor. But not until then." Managing a weak smile, she reached out and embraced them. Then she pulled away and slipped out the door.
Tathren turned to her cousin with a sigh.
"It is Boromir she seeks. Do you know what has become of him?"
"If he has not improved since I heard of him last, he has surely died."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~