by Isilendil
To the Reviewers: mind telling me whether or not you like the mood of this story? Do you want it to get darker or brighter? Do you want some humor? Well I figure you are expecting love…
* Chapter 2: Escape to Lindon"May the Valar bless your journey, my lord!" said one of the captain guardsmen. "And may the winds quicken your sails!"
"And may your walls stand firm!" Isildur told him as he boarded the small ship. Gildor walked steadily behind them. Anariel heard the brief exchange between the guard and Gildor.
"If the Eastern Gate should fall," said Gildor, "Let all your captains sound their horns at once, for the elves of Lorien shall hear it from afar."
"Yes, sir." said the guardsmen. She glanced back at Gildor warily, the thought didn't please her at the least though the elf did speak realistically. Gildor came up between them as they came to the deck.
"The eastern winds shall try to waylay us." Gildor told them, "The dark lord will call the storms against us, for his eye is pointed here and he knows of what we intend to do."
"Let him know." Isildur said some malice in his tone, "Let him know that we intend for him to fall and we intend to do it soon."
Anariel looked at the tension in her brother's eyes. He too was worried about Anarion.
"Open the gate!" called Isildur as soon as everything was settled. The Southern Gate, on the waters of the Anduin, was opened and off went the small corsair toward the sea.
On the banks of the Anduin people cheered loudly and cheered out blessings for their safety and success.
*
Anariel watched as Osgilliath slowly faded from her view only the lights from the torches of its walls shone and the smoldering smoke from fires quenched. But flickering flaming arrows still flew with their evil intent of burning the city. "Be safe, Anarion." She whispered, "May the Valar keep you."
"Come join us, lady, in the galley." said Gildor as he managed a smile, "Your brother wishes that you eat something and I too feel that the lady should not go on any longer without food and some warm wine."
She nodded slowly and followed Gildor to the galley where Isildur and a few other men, as well as young pages sat and ate.
"Come eat, Anariel." Isildur told her and he filled a cup for her. She sat across from him and Gildor took a seat next to her. Her face was still filled with some sorrow but with a heated determination as well.
"Thank you." she said softly accepting the cup. Isildur smiled and stood up raising his cup.
"Men! I call a toast! To the most fair and brave and tireless of ladies in Gondor! To Anariel!" He called out.
"To Anariel!" They toasted. She managed a smile, her first smile within a fortnight. She raised an eyebrow at her brother.
"Are you trying to cheer me up?" Anariel asked him.
"Is it working?" he asked in return sitting down. She grinned and came up to him giving him a long hug.
"Awww…!" the men jested. Gildor smiled.
"Oh shut up." She told them and sat back down, but managed to forget her worries a while, "How long is Lindon from here?" She asked them.
"About three weeks away." Isildur told her, "But only a fortnight if the weather remains kind to us."
"I pray that will be the case." said Gildor, "But let us forget our pains now, and eat together and laugh and jest, for we still have to go down the Anduin and let us enjoy its calm waters while it lasts."
*
Later that night Anariel lay in her cot and stared out her window. It was so dark. She hated the darkness. She wished the stars would just for a moment show their faces if only to bring her a moment of peace. Gildor rested on the cot across from hers, and Isildur on the one against the wall. As lulling as Isildur's soft snores were she could not sleep. She sighed and shifted in her bed.
She was almost afraid to sleep. It had been her nightmares that foretold the death of Riordan. She did not wish to have such nightmares of Anarion. She did not wish the see the destruction of Osgilliath in her dreams. I pray that shall never be. She thought. There seemed to be no comfort in sleep anymore.
"My lady," came Gildor's soft voice, "You are restless?" It was more of an observation on his part.
She turned to him. Nearly four hours into the night had passed and she had thought Gildor was asleep. She had long forgotten the senses of elves.
"I don't wish to sleep Gildor. I fear I'll have a nightmare." She told him softly.
"While we were in Osgilliath," Gildor said, "Anarion told me you dream of things, and often you dream of the future." Her throat felt dry, there were few she divulged this information to. Her brothers knew of her strange gift, but they rarely spoke about it to others.
"Yes," she whispered closing her eyes for a moment in thought. Riordan! How I wish you were here! She suddenly wished for the comfort of her husband's arms. "I… I saw the fall of Minas Ithil." Her voice quivered, "It is a curse I suffer, for if my dreams show dark things then dark things shall become." She told him softly.
"Lady, it is not a curse you suffer." Gildor told her, "It is a gift and do not be so sure that all you see will become for the future is like the waves of the oceans, many are its possibilities but only that which crashes is the sure truth." He said, "There are those among elves who have the same gift, and they use it as warning, for the future can be changed."
"Your words are wise, Gildor." She told him softly, "But they bring me little comfort."
"Would a song of the elves lull you then, lady?" asked Gildor, in the darkness his eyes sparkled as stars, "For certainly, I doubt that Isildur's snoring will."
Anariel stifled her laughter.
"I heard that." growled Isildur.
"Still alert, my lord?" asked Gildor with a grin.
"Goodnight, sir." Isildur muttered and pulled the blanket over him.
"I would hear a song, Gildor, if it should bring me a peaceful sleep." Anariel told him.
"Then a song you shall have."
*
Upon the western hill of Eriadorstood an elven lord of old
his eyes the blue of the endless sky
his hair of golden twine
so shines the star of Gil-galad
still young and restless in his years
for from him dwells the light of elvenese
his song is the wind in autumn leaves.
A! Elbereth! He sang aloud,
Gilthoniel! My lady proud!
would thou yet hear my song?
For they call me king in Ennorath
but am I ready? am I strong?
Who hath the answers? Elbereth!
For here upon the western shore
I hear your whisper from afar
and I yet long for Eldamar…
But so they crowned him King of Ennorath
of all the trees, and birds, and elves,
in all the lands where they yet dwell
was he the one strong lord among them,
and so he rode, far, at last,
from Lorien, Eregion, and Imladris
to the havens west in Mithlond
where now he calls his home…
*
Anariel slept that night. For once, a peaceful sleep with visions of the western seas and of the stars she so longed for. "Sleep well, lady." Gildor whispered, "And pray the morning will come soon and with it the sun."
*
The morning came indeed, but there was no sun. The clouds were still heavy and dark as they neared the mouth of the Anduin. Anariel pulled her cloak tightly around her. The winds had indeed grown colder and the current below then began speeding them toward the sea.
Isildur came up next to her his face in a grim mask. "The sky forebodes a storm." He said to her.
"Then let us pray to the seas for our safety." Anariel said quietly. It didn't take much of the worry from Isildur's face. She clasped his hand, "Dear brother, if fate be on our side then we shall make it, fear not." She told him honestly.
Isildur stared out at the dark waters ahead. "May the western winds yet warm our sails toward Lindon." He whispered. Anariel smiled.
"And may the stars yet smile down upon us and Earendil show us the way." She added to his blessing.
Gildor walked to the side of Isildur at the head of the ship.
"This weather is not boding well." the elf told them.
"We shall get through it." Isildur stated, "We must."
"Yes," Anariel agreed, "For Anarion's sake, we must."
*
Two days into the journey and a storm had decided to present itself, and it presented itself loudly. The sky had become pitch black and rains hard and unrelenting. The sky above them thundered and the ship was naught but a feather upon the tumultuous waves.
Anariel cleaved herself to one of the masts her hood and cloak sodden from the down pour. All around her men worked together, including Isildur to steady the ship upon the angry waves. "Oh, Uinen!" whispered Anariel, "Won't you sing peace unto Osse's wrath?" She asked silently. She was feeling dizzy from all the movement and her stomach weak. She slowly let go of the mast and walked toward the cabins. A great wave lifted up beneath the ship and Anariel slipped and slid toward star board, she let out an exclamation and fell into Gildor's arms.
"Be careful, my lady!" called the elf over the wrath of the storm, "This storm intends to rip this ship apart!"
"She'll last!" exclaimed Isildur who was up above with another man, Griswold, repairing the sail, "She has to last." He muttered.
Gildor helped her up and led her inside. They struggled to keep balance.
"You may want to sit down a while as we work outside!" Gildor told her as she sank down against her cot. He saw the discomfort on her face, "You do not look too well, lady."
"Dizziness." She told him closing her eyes as the ship shifted once more.
"Here." Gildor said grasping her right wrist, "Take your hand and apply a little pressure on this spot, it should ease the dizziness and sea sickness." He told her. "I wouldn't drink or eat anything either for a while." He added.
"As if…" She muttered. Gildor gave a light laugh clutching one of the thin columns nearby lest he fall.
"Forgive me, my lady, sometimes I find the predicaments of mortals amusing and perhaps I shouldn't."
"Imagine yourself in our position." She told him laying back in good humor in spite of her condition. Sympathy shone in his eyes.
"Indeed." Gildor said, "Then I suppose you could laugh at me."
Anariel smiled at the other. "Precisely."
"I believe your brother will be needing my aid, hold fast my lady!" Gildor told her, "We shall survive this storm, yet!"
Anariel pulled herself up in her cot watching the pouring rain hit the panel of her window. Her dizziness soon faded into drowsiness for the waves below her lulled her in spite of their strength. I truly need sleep. Anariel thought.
Heeding to the song of the water, she fell into a deep sleep.
*
A pair of blue eyes flashed before her, golden hair drenched in rain and dirt. There were cries from all around. Blood… blood upon a golden sword with the wings of a swan spread over its hilt and blood upon a golden cloak that shimmered alive with a million shining stars…
"Father! Father!" was this her own voice? She could not run, she could not run fast enough… she could not reach him and he was falling.
"Anariel!" called a voice in warning. She saw him, impaled upon a stake of blackened evil his dead body opened its eyes and stared at her fondly. Minas Morgul… Morgul… Riordan! "Anariel," He whispered, "Anariel, be careful! Beware! Beware! Beware, Anariel!"
There sat upon black throne the body of a king cloaked in fair raiment and upon his lap was his dismembered head with a crown upon it… His mouth opened and he spoke a name in a cold whisper, in the voice only the dead could speak, "Aragorn…"
"To Osgilliath!" roared a voice drunk in the heat of battle. Anarion! Swords clashed and vile orcs hissed curses in their fowl tongue and fell wolves, blackened by a dark will ran through what was once the White City…
A woman, an old woman looking up her from her bed, her silver eyes clouded in sadness, "Onen i-estel Edain, u-chebin estel anim…" [I gave hope to the Dunedain, but I have not kept hope for myself…] she whispered and death slowly took her.
A golden ring fell glimmering into the darkness of the river and Isildur fell with it… No…
The White Tree burned… smoldered in a deep fire of hatred and the fire grew to become an eye… a great eye… and it was staring at her…
But a brightness appeared before that dark fire and held up a golden sword. His eyes, blue as the sky, looked to her, but he was fading away and the great fiery eye was swallowing him…
"Anariel!" his voice called out like a thousand songs of joy slowly being burnt away, "Anariel! Anariel!"
No… come back! you can't die…!
*
"Anariel! Anariel! Wake up!" Isildur called to her shaking her, he was worried deeply. She seemed to be taken by some sort of madness.
"No! Come back! Come back! You cannot die! You cannot leave me!" She cried out thrashing. Her eyes snapped open and she saw her brother before her.
"Isildur!" She sat up and he embraced her.
"It was but a nightmare." he told her, "You are cold." He added when he pulled away he placed a hand on her forehead, "Icy cold." She shook her head and let her tears come down.
"Isildur…" Her voice was shaking, her hands were shaking, "I cannot… it wasn't just a nightmare… I…!"
"Sshhh…!" hissed Isildur, "Come outside, the sun glows brightly, we have escaped the storm and we are at the shores of Eriador." She breathed in and out deeply.
"How long have I been asleep?" She asked him.
"Two days." Isildur said, "I felt that you needed the rest and I left you to it." She rested her head on her brother's shoulder and clutched him close to her. Anariel felt her dream echo through her.
'A golden ring fell glimmering into the darkness of the river and Isildur fell with it…'Isildur rocked her, "There now," He said quietly, "Are you better?" She swallowed looking into his silver eyes.
"Aye." She said softly but everything within her was twisting. He forced a smile.
"Now do you wish to see the sun?" He said helping her up.
"Yes, I do." She replied sincerely holding her head for the cho of the dream still pounded in it. For I have seen too much darkness…
*
The pallor in her face of earlier fears faded as she stepped outside upon the deck. The sun indeed shone brightly, and not a cloud covered the endless blue of the sky. "Look!" cried Gildor with a laughing smile, "Sea gulls!"
And indeed there were, high over head they flew singing their song. The elf looked at her in good humour. "There are many an elf who go mad at such a sight." said Gildor. Anariel looked up amused.
"Is that story true of elves?" She asked coming up next to him. "That they long for the sea?"
Gildor smiled easily, "Not really the sea, Lady, but we long for our true home hidden beyond it. Though the song of the sea speaks to us of many secret things, of things unseen, of things unheard, of promises for something better."
Anariel shivered recalling that it was the ocean's rocking that lulled her to sleep.
"Indeed." Anariel said, "And what is your true home like?" She asked leaning on the rail by the elf.
"Silver are the trees of Eressea." Gildor told her as if lost in some memory, "And leaves of gold and streams shimmer as moonlight. And forever a great song is heard from afar, for Eressea is filled with song and laughter and music. The elves delight in the music beneath the stars, for nothing fades in Eressea."
Anariel imagined such a place in her mind. It seemed beautiful.
"I mean no offense, in this question Gildor," Anariel said quietly deep in thought, "But do the elves ever weary of the world? According to legend they are bound to it forever."
"Yes," said Gildor quietly, "And when they do they die of heartbreak from its endless beauty, from its endless song, for though we hear it, we cannot posses it. For though we love it, it can never embrace us fully. The world and the elves are like two lovers, close but forever apart. We are seduced by its song, by its bright fire, the fire Eru set in all its beings, mortal and immortal." The shadow of a smile touched his lips, "Sometimes we even envy the mortals who are not bound to anything."
Anariel gave a deep sigh.
"Perhaps," she said thoughtfully, "All creatures born of the fire of the world return to its song."
"That may be true lady." Gildor said looking at the gulls, "And deep is your wisdom to speak so of it."
Anariel looked out at the endless waters admiring the glittering waves. And where does your song lie, Riordan? She thought quietly, but managed a smile. She suddenly felt peaceful.
"I believe elves and mortals should come to know each other better." Anariel said suddenly, "For I have never found more peace than in talking with one of the elven folk, and perhaps we could learn something from each other yet." Gildor smiled and gave her a slight bow.
"In that we all dream of such a thing, Lady," Gildor said, "Perhaps one day it shall be as you say."
*
"Do you remember when you were little?" asked Isildur. It was night again, and Anariel refused to sleep instead stayed out to watch the stars. Gildor had decided to do likewise and lay upon the deck restfully and Isildur had decided to join her.
"That seems like so long ago." Anariel told him. "Indeed, it seems like an eternity ago."
"True," said Isildur, "You were naught but a babe in father's arms when we landed in Gondor." She smiled looking up and silently naming the constellations in her mind.
"Indeed." She said.
"Remember when you climbed that oak tree in the field?" Anariel laughed, she had been only seven mortal years old.
"Yes, I cried endlessly because I couldn't get down!" Anariel said and looked at him in mock annoyance, "And you didn't help me and you were old enough to know not to leave me there crying!" Isildur grinned.
"Aye," He said, "But I taught you something, didn't I?" He asked.
"The nerve you had." She thought shaking her head amused, "You said you'd leave me there all night if I didn't come down myself! And I was begging you to help me!
"But you came down by yourself, didn't you?"
"Only because you were eating all the pound cake." She muttered. Isildur laughed lightly.
"Well, at least we discovered you could go up and down trees on your own." He said quietly. Anariel looked at him, his gaze was distant.
"What is it?" She asked him.
"We shall see father again in Lindon." Isildur said quietly, "I have not seen him in years."
"Aye, neither have I." Anariel said pulling back her long red hair from her face, "I pray at least our reunion will be joyful, but…" She trailed off and swallowed thinking of her dream.
"You wish Anarion was here as well." Isildur said. "I know." He placed a hand comfortingly on her shoulder, "Fear not," Isildur told her, "Anarion is clever, and an excellent fighter. He will be the victor in the end."
"When shall we arrive at Lindon?" She asked desiring to change subjects. She did not want to think of her dreams.
"If this weather keep up, two more days, and we shall reach its shore." said Isildur.
"I cannot wait to see father again." She said softly and gazed fondly upon the star of Earendil.
*
Lindon.
Already she could see its gleaming walls from afar, covered in flowers and the gulls flew about it happily. Upon its docks were great white ships with sails glimmering of silver white. "Look!" Anariel exclaimed, "Isildur! It is beautiful!"
"Wait until you walk in." Isildur said, "The elves make everything beautiful." But deep within Isildur was hoping that Lindon would quell some of his younger sister's sorrows for a while.
"Indeed," Gildor said with a smile, "There are gardens within Lindon, for the elves love flowers and could not live a day without them." Anariel cocked an eyebrow at him.
"Well it seems certainly that you have lived quite well in our month's voyage."
He smiled, "Indeed, but I had the garden of the stars to look upon." Isildur laughed.
"Ah! Did I forget to add that you will be endlessly surrounded by elvish poetry?" Anariel grinned.
"Sounds better than your snoring at any rate."
At this Gildor also laughed. Isildur snorted.
"Ha! Ha!" exclaimed Griswold from up on the crow's nest. He waved the flag of Osgilliath up high as the elves of Lindon may see it.
The closer the ship came to Lindon the more Anariel could not wait to step into it. She could smell sweet fragrances of the flowers in the light breeze. She gave a deep sigh of contentment. She was glad they were almost on land.
"Be ready to take your things!" said Griswold from above smilingly, "For we will soon land!"
*
Elendil was already down below waiting for them. As soon as Anariel saw him as she came off the ship she leaped into his arms. "Father!" she exclaimed joyfully. He had grown old but still held a certain youth about his features. Long and white was his hair tied back and he still kept a beard that gleamed with grey and white streaks. His grey eyes looked down upon his daughter fondly as he laughed.
"For a moment I thought I was looking at your mother! Welcome to Lindon!" He said he then parted the embrace and looked at her studying the dirt and blood upon her wrinkled gown. "What's this?" He asked and looked up an Isildur who had basically arrived wearing the same sort of worn outfit. Isildur silently embraced his father as well. Gildor stood behind him in silent testimony.
"I hate to come here being a bringer of ill news, father." Elendil shook his head his face becoming grim.
"Where is Anarion?" He asked Isildur.
"Defending Osgilliath." Anariel told him solemnly. The elder man gaped at them.
"Walk with me! Tell me what has happened!" Elendil bid them, they followed him into the walls of the Grey havens, elves greeting them kindly on their way.
Isildur briefly recounted the tale of the taking of Minas Ithil and the siege at Osgilliath, "We came to Lindon to seek aid, from you and Gil-galad." Isildur told him, "We had not a choice but to leave Osgilliath, many were lost."
"Including, Riordan." Anariel said sadly.
"My child," whispered Elendil, "I am sorry." and he embraced her warmly.
"I think it would be best, my lord, if we found your son and daughter some rooms where they may perhaps refresh themselves and change." Gildor said.
"Yes," said Elindil, "Yes, indeed! Long has been your journey and arduous, enjoy the welcome of Lindon for a while before we discuss further matters." Anariel frowned, she was deeply worried about Anarion.
"Where is Gil-galad?" asked Isildur.
"He is meeting with a representative of Lothlorien currently, but worry not, I shall call you to him when he is finished. Certainly he shall want to hear your news as well. But first, a bath a change of clothes, and some food."
*
Anariel had been given a room close to the gardens of the courtyard. The room was very open, with a great balcony and several large narrow windows. Her bed was the most splendid bed she had ever seen, its head board carved in the shape of swans upholding stars and its sheets white and soft.
She had washed up and changed into a green gown the elves had offered her, with a girdle of golden flowers. The clothing of the elves were light and she felt comfortable in it. She sighed pulling on her grey boots which had been cleaned for her and tying down only two small braids and leaving the rest of her red hair loose. Her circlet gleamed of gold and she looked at herself in the mirror approving that she looked a lot better than she had upon the ship. Color had been roused into her cheeks from the sunlight though her green eyes still gleamed with some sorrow and worry.
Anarion.
She placed her hand in the looking glass as if wishing by some strange power to see him, to speak with him, to know that he was well. But there was no such certainty.
Anariel sighed deeply. Twilight had already fallen and she heard elves singing in their soft voices about. They sung of stars, and bravery, of travels far and distant lore, and of love in their own beautiful tongue. Most likely her father and her brother were meeting with the elven king right now discussing the matters of Osgilliath and Minas Anor, and of the taking of Minas Ithil.
Isildur had told her it would be better for her not to attend the small meeting as much as she wanted to. He had told her to rest her mind and heart a while and find peace in Lindon. Perhaps he is right, she thought to herself, I am weary of death and sorrow and war.
Anariel breathed in the evening air, taking in the fragrances of the many white night blooming flower and she let out a sigh.
Lindon was a beautiful place.
*
Next Chapter… Gil-galad appearance… finally! YAY! hehe. Did you like this chapter?