by Isilendil
disclaimer: The plot is based on Tolkien. Anariel is mine.
description: "Man nin envinya silme elenion? elye, Gil-galad…" [Who now will renew the light of the stars for me? you, Gil-galad…]
*
Prologue: Lament of the HeartShe stood there, silent, by one of the narrow arched windows of the tower of Minas Anor. The evening was grey, the rain falling hard. Her long fiery red hair was tied back in a single braid and her gown of long dark green wool. Her emerald eyes looked out to east, looking towards Minas Ithil a deep foreboding stirring within her.
Three days had passed. Three dark rainy days and no word from Minas Ithil. Even her older brother, Anarion was worried and he was biding his time before he sent a scout to Minas Ithil to discover why it had been silent. Anariel stared out sensing the cold air but not paying any mind to it. She closed her eyes for a moment. Riordan, her husband was at Minas Ithil. Riordan was there.
Anariel shivered and crossed her arms over her chest protectively. Where were the messengers? Why have they not come in so long? Part of her wanted to run to her brother and bid him send a scout immediately. It had been too long and both her husband and her eldest brother, Isildur, were too close to the border of Mordor for her liking.
'And I fear for him… I fear for him deeply.'
Two horns sounded from the gate. Anariel looked down. A rider! A rider has arrived! She ran through the halls swiftly. She had to find Anarion.
*
She entered into the great hall, breathless, where Anarion and a messenger with the colors of Osgilliath upon him were exchanging converse with grim looks upon their faces.
"What is it?" She asked him looking at solemn look on his face.
"I must go to Osgilliath." He said impassively. Fear made her heart skip a beat. Anariel looked at the messenger and saw that blood stained his tunic. A cold feeling clutched her heart and swept through her in a shiver.
"Anarion…" She looked at him bidding he continue, her voice quivering, "What has happened?"
Her older brother approached her and gave her a strong in embrace. "Minas Ithil has been taken." She heard the underlying sorrow in his voice and knew that it had been bad. With those words visions of horror went through her mind recalling the nightmares she had had days earlier.
Blood. Terror. Shadows riding and bringing with them the portent of fear and frozen cold. Swords of black flame.
Riordan! Isildur! She wanted to scream out but her voice seemed frozen in her throat.
No…
Anariel ran from the room, this was too much to take. Her heart sank in her chest and she could not breathe. "Riordan…!" She hissed the whisper. Finally she approached her own chambers and slammed the door behind her. Riordan. Isildur. Dead.
She sank down to the ground her tears cold. "No! No!" She screamed feeling a wave of terrible sadness. She could not move. She could not breathe.
Anariel did what she could only do.
She wept.
*
For five days she lay in her bed, her face pale in an expression of death. Her tears stained her eyes and her face. She had not moved from her sorrow. She had no thought and all she felt was cold.
She heard nothing, her vision blurred by her endless tears. Sometimes she though she saw him. Riordan in her arms. Riordan telling her everything would be well again. Riordan's laughter in her ear. His kiss upon her lips. But then he would fade away being only a phantom of her sadness.
Riordan… Isildur…
She closed her eyes letting some good memory take her.
*
He laughed loudly. The captain of Isildur's guard drank his draught against his lord. Isildur smiled. "You're a brave man! Riordan! To face me in a drinking contest!"
"I have strength in me yet!" Riordan said his blue eyes sparkling. The other men around them laughed. Anarion entered with a lady gowned in scarlet behind him. Riordan, partly drunk and partly sensible, stood up immediately and bowed.
"My lord! Would you join us in our game!" asked Riordan.
"Indeed." laughed Isildur putting down his cup.
"Is this your manners with a lady about?" Anarion asked his grey eyes gleaming and he grinned at his brother Isildur.
"Forgive me, my lord!" said Riordan as he looked up to the fair lady before him. Long red hair and bright green eyes like elven beryls. She is indeed beautiful… "I did not know you had a wife."
Isildur choked on his drink and let out a great laugh.
"Riordan," said Anarion looking at Isildur who was just about dying of mirth, "Allow me to introduce you to our younger sister, Anariel." He told him, the men about him also laughed. Riordan felt heat touch his cheeks.
"My lady, I…" She smiled at him bemused.
"Forgiven Riordan, and well met!" She laughed as she allowed him to kiss her hand.
"What do you think Anarion?" asked Isildur looking at the two, "I think this is the start of a beautiful relationship."
"Shut up, Isildur." She told him nonchalantly. Riordan looked curiously at them. Brother and sister most certainly they were.
"Indeed, my lord," Riordan said in jest but looked into her eyes in affection, "She just might marry me and you'll be choking on your drink yet again."
"You're a good man, Riordan." said Anarion in good humor as he sat by his older brother.
"Meant to be a jester as well, I'm sure." replied Isildur.
"Ah! But a mighty jester with a sword. A jester even orcs would fear." Anarion told him bidding the squire fill another cup, "Now how many cups are you at?"
*
She missed him deeply and it seemed that each memory came to her more vivid than the last. Anariel cursed herself. She should have listened to her earlier feelings, to her nightmares which warned her so! Help could have arrived to Minas Ithil! Riordan might have lived.
So lost was she in her sorrow and regrets that she did not hear the door open nor did she see a man approach her in soiled clothing, and rain soaked hair.
"Anariel! I am here!"
She looked up, in disbelief. There stood Isildur before her and behind him was the silent figure of Anarion.
"Isildur…?" She whispered. He took her up and embraced her. Was this another dream? Another illusion? She felt her brother's breath, scented the rain upon him. This was real. He was here! "Isildur!" She returned his tight embrace.
"I am here, little sister, I am well." He told her in a breathless whisper. She didn't care if he was dirty. She could care less if blood stained his clothing. He was here. It was all that mattered.
She didn't know how long they locked in each other's embrace but finally they parted.
"I am sorry." He told her in a whisper clutching her shoulder, "Riordan is dead." She swallowed down any more tears that she had and decided to concentrate on the miracle before her. Isildur was here! He was alive!
"How did you escape?" She asked him though weariness was still in her tone, "How did he die?" She asked more quietly.
"He fought bravely, Anariel, strong was he at my side among my guards. He took down several orcs and took the blow from the wraith that was meant for me." Isildur told her quietly. "I managed to escape across the Anduin and I came here to seek Anarion. We have to go to Osgilliath for Sauron's forces have laid siege there."
Anger shot through her.
"I will go with you." She told him a thick resolve in her voice.
"Anariel, you shall not." said Isildur.
"My husband is dead." She said emotion taking her voice, "I'll not sit here and be useless. The more hands you have helping you against the enemy the better."
"I would not see you die." Isildur argued.
"And I, you." Anariel retorted and she looked at Anarion, "Here we stand, the three children of Elendil, if we fight then let us fight together, and if we die then we shall die together as well!" She nearly shouted feeling a fire run through her veins. Anger. Remorse. Her sadness slowly hardened into heated passion. "I will avenge my husband." She seethed.
"Anariel, I cannot…" Isildur began.
"Why can't you!" She yelled standing up feeling tears sting her eyes once more. She stood up and abruptly took a vase and slammed it to the nearest wall, She fell to her knees seeing Riordan in her mind. Slain by a wraith. Slain by a wraith with its black sword.
"Why…?" She whispered wrapping her arms across herself letting her tears run freely. Now they were not cold. They stung like an icy fire. Isildur and Anarion kneeled down beside her and wrapped their arms around their younger sister feeling her pain, like the flames of a raging fire, run through them as well.
"Anariel…" whispered Isildur giving a deep sigh into her hair. He too saw Minas Ithil in his mind how they had been caught off guard. How they had been surprised in the middle of the night. Shadows, cold shadows from the east had come upon them like a silent and deadly wind. Isildur had barely escaped.
They stood by her for a long moment, letting her lament and feeling her pain.
"She speaks truly." Anarion told his older brother quietly after a while, after she had ceased her tears and sat in silence. "We are indeed the children of Elendil and we should stand together and fall together if that may be." He said in a whisper.
Isildur met his eyes. He did not like the idea at all.
"Come," Anarion said as he helped her up, "Both of you should get yourselves cleaned up and changed. We shall discuss these matters afterwards."
*
She stood by the window where she oft waited for her husband, for news, for a letter. She swallowed letting the wind dance in her hair as she stared at the starless sky. She let her voice rise in it and she finally sang the lament in her heart.
Dark is the night and starless the sky
but deep in your heart does light yet lie.
Riordan! The Northern Wind does sing to you!
Heed its call! Oh! Riordan!
Swift it shall be to carry you, even as I long,
towards the forests filled with elven song!
Dark is the night with haunting call
but deep is your heart with peaceful lull
Riordan! The Southern Wind does sing to you!
Heed its call! Oh! Riordan!
Swift it shall be to carry you, the gull's cry,
the great white ships whose silver sails do kiss the sky!
Dark is the night and endless the shadows,
but deep is your heart of strength and mettle.
Riordan! The Western Wind does sing to you!
Heed its call! Oh! Riordan!
Swift it shall be to carry you, off and afar
across the great seas, beyond the veils of dreams!
And of the eastern wind she spoke not of. She swallowed looking towards Minas Ithil, looking towards the fallen tower. She felt Isildur come up behind her his hands clutching her shoulders.
"Come," He said softly, "Sleep a while, tomorrow night we are off." Anariel nodded slowly and turned to follow him.
*
Author's Note: say… looks like I have something going on here. Whew! And all off the top of my head too! REVIEW PLEASE!