Chapter 4;
Disclaimer: I don't own LotR...I wish I did. I am not making any money off of this, don't sue me!!!
a/n: sorry this wasn't up earlier, my comp was spazzing/being stupid. Its the last day of school here! If ne body read this from my school (C.H!!!!) I luv u all!!!!!!!
2nd a/n: oooh, this chapter is long! It has a lot of things in it, so pay attention! j/k u don't have to.... Well I hope u all enjoy it! ^_^
*huggles to reveiwers* *glaring at all others...j/k*
Laurefinwen lightly stepped through the forest with the hint of a smile on her lips. Most all of the pain of that-that-elf (!) had subsided.
'Fea is so great, so altruistic. He has always been there to comfort me when I am down.' Laurefinwen thought, flattering her face with a smile.
She then realized that she had carried herself to her house, unknowingly. Bracing herself for the argument that would most likely follow upon her entering, as she had snuck out to find Gaerelen, she was still grounded. She turned the door handle and pushed her way in.
"Laurefinwen?! Is that you?!" came grandmama's frightened call from the other room.
"Yes, I am home." Laurefinwen said exasperatedly, thinking she was worried about her. Grandmama suddenly burst from Earel's room and rushed up to Laurefinwen, saying,
"Oh, thank goodness you are home!"
"I-I am sorry, I-was-uhh...." Laurefinwen stammered.
"It's all right, dear, it doesn't matter!" grandmama said, pulling Laurefinwen along by her hand.
"What is it?" Laurefinwen asked, jerking her hand back.
"Come! It's your mother! Quickly!" she replied, dashing back.
"Mom? Mom!" Laurefinwen said in pursuit of grandmama.
Laurefinwen entered the room, Earel was lying in her bed, her left shoulder bandages, already soiled with blood. Laurefinwen gasped and rushed to her aid.
"Laurefinwen...you're home." Earel said weakly.
"What happened?" Laurefinwen asked, slumping into a chair, shocked. Grandmama then began telling the story of what happened, Earel was feeling dizzy and was stumbling about. Suddenly, without warning, she began clutching her arm and crying out in pain. For a minute she lay twitching on the floor. Again, out of nowhere, her old wound split open and blood began gushing out. They had managed to slow the bleeding, abut not stop it entirely. They bandaged it and put her in bed. That is where they all were now, they had sent for the healer, the same one that had treated her 69 years ago.
(a/n: That was for u guys, Lily and Chelsea!)
Presently, all was silent, save the gentle moaning from Earel and my tears hitting the floor.
The healer walked in without knocking, sensing the urgency of this matter. He ran to where Earel lay, limply.
"What happened here?" he asked in confusion and slight horror.
A combination of grandmama and I's answers came flooding out. He seemed to piece them together pretty thoroughly. He then asked if the bandage be removed so he could take a look ad possibly cleanse the wound. When unveiled, it was just as horrid as when she had gotten it, all those years ago. The healer sat for what seemed like an eternity, poking and prodding with his long fingers. When he turned back to us, his expression was grave. He softly spoke, in a low voice, saying,
"This wound has dark magic bound to it that is not familiar to me." he paused for a moment, then continued, "It is beyond my skills to treat this kind of wound. I do not know what will happen if action is not taken soon."
"What must I do?" Laurefinwen asked fearfully, wanting to do anything but sit here and watch he mother die.
"You may want to consult 'the old one.'" he suggested. 'The old one' is the oldest elf in your community. Because of their great lineage, they were often the most learned and wisest of all the elves in their particular settlement. Not caring that it was midnight, Laurefinwen ran out into the night in search of the old one.
She ran to the well-known hut on the edge of town. She frantically beat upon the door, but there was no answer. A strong voice called from above, saying
"You may want to stop that, as I will never answer."
Laurefinwen looked up in surprise only to see the elder (another name for 'the old one') sitting in the enormous tree overhanging her porch.
"Oh please! Old one! Help me my mo-" Laurefinwen started, crying up to the elder.
"It's all right, child, I will come." with that, she leaped down from her vantage and began walking toward the center of town.
"We must hurry!" Laurefinwen said, dashing up in front of her.
"It is all right, child, no evil will come." The old one said, slowing Laurefinwen to a walk.
After a while, they made their way to the house and inside, to Earel's bedroom where she lie, whimpering. The healer was sitting, with a puzzled look on his face. He looked up, saw the old one and began,
"I need your help! This evil is far beyond my skill lev-"
The elder held up her hand and said,
"I will read the story engraved upon this wound." She stepped and pushed her fingertips painfully to the wound, reading it.
She saw all of the images of the Morgul-blade and the terrorists. She saw that it had been bothering her today and everything connected to it. When she remover her hands, Earel slumped back into the pillows immediately. Laurefinwen gasped and ran to her side, alarmed.
"Calm down, child," the elder said soothingly. "searching the wound always leaves the patient extremely weary, she will wake in a few hours. Her injury, however is something to worry about, I have never seen anything this disturbing. I have found that the particular blade that issued this wound was forged by the dark hand of Sauron. Sometimes my mind wanders farther than I first sought out to see. It has told me that the chief of the Uruk-Hai of Mordor as taken over and began another rule of evil. he had desired power long before this and now that it was open, he took up his scattered un-unified people and rose to great power in their ranks. He has them rebuilding Barad Dur! He has begun running it anew, still brewing it with corrupted evil. After the war of the ring, not all of Sauron's most trusted orcs were captured. Those that remain assembled and they have taken the world of the Uruk's to higher than they ever have achieved before! Grishnakh is/was Sauron's most trusted advisor. Sauron gave him powers over all other orcs. He also gave him gifts, one was beauty, he decided to take upon the appearance of a strong, brave, powerful man of Gondor, all that gaze upon his face cannot tell that he was ever an orc, or is still an orc on the inside. He looked proud and venerable, far greater than the hideous orcs. Sauron also granted him his sword, forged by the hand of Sauron, filling it with his own power. The sword was a Morgul blade, it would disappear when anything pure touched its cruel, biting, ice cold tip of an unearthly metal, stronger than mithril, and darker than the ocean depths. This word was bequeathed to Grishnakh. His final gift was the gift of living forever, as the elves. Orcs were always jealous of us and our living ways, they were ever thirsting for longer life for themselves. When these were granted, Sauron still possessed the one ring, he, in reality, did have the power to do all of these things. Then was the battle of the last alliances when Isildur cut the ring from Sauron's hand, stripping him of all his power. He passed into nothingness, though he did not cease to exist. Sauron took the form of an evil eye of deep crimson, ever searching for the one ring. The ring deceived Isildur, and brought him to his death. It fell into the river and was picked up by Gollum, an evil creature who roved the waterways by night. He took it to the roots of the misty mountains, where it lay hidden for many years. It came by chance upon a hobbit, Bilbo Baggins, who later bestowed it upon his young cousin, the renowned, Frodo Baggins who went all the way to Mordor and became the undoing of the great ring." said the elder, taking a long breath,
"When the ring was undone, the sword of Sauron was not destroyed as well, Sauron had commanded it to live as long as Grishnakh did, and the blade was true to its forger.
This very blade is the one that pierced your mother," she said, motioning weakly to Earel. "How it got from Mordor to her I do not know. Do you still have the hilt?" she asked, turning to Laurefinwen and grandmama.
"Oh! Yes, I have it here!" said grandmama desperately, scurrying from the room, naturally, the elder and Laurefinwen followed. Grandmama dug the hit out of some unknown location and brought it to the old one, cautiously placing it in her hands. She brought it to her face and examined it closely. When she looked up, her expression was dark.
"There are evil things engraved on this hilt." she said, glancing at Laurefinwen and grandmama. "This indeed is the blade of Sauron passed to Grishnakh. My inner eye did not deceive me. Unfortunately, I have not the skill to fix the damage done to Earel. This requires a root of old, long past forgotten. Lothelena, flower of the stars. It is named this because it is silvery in color and shines with the light of Elbereth. It will prove hard to get, because it blooms only at midnight on the fair holiday of Yestare. Without it, there is no hope. With it, there is little. It requires great strength in mind and will power to use it correctly. If used incorrectly, it can do great damage. it is found deep in the mountains of Ered Gorgorath in Mordor. It is in a small are protected by elven magic of old. The spell can only be broken by a true elf, no orcs have been able to lay their foul hands upon this sacred meadow. I cannot put this task upon you." she said, looking at Laurefinwen. "I still do not know if any one can measure up to this quest. Only you can look deep inside yourself and see yourself worthy and accept it. It is late I must cleanse Earel's wound and be on my way, take heed to my words." With that, the elder passed out of the chamber and into Earel's room. Soon after, she left the cottage. A feeling of great dread came noticeably upon the cottage. This was far worse then either grandmama or Laurefinwen had ever dreamed. They sat in silence, but neither was idle. Their minds were whirring with activity. The minutes flew by while they tried to come to a conclusion. Closing her eyes and sighing, Laurefinwen drew herself up and declared
"I will go to Mordor." her eyes suddenly flashed with a hatred for all that the dark lord has ever done. Even now, when he is gone, his treachery lives on. Silently, she vowed to destroy the evil that had re-arisen. The chief of the Uruk-Hai still held the malice in his heart, the malice that Laurefinwen had sworn to annihilate. When grandmama heard this, she looked up with eyes wide with fear.
"No! you cannot go! I will not lose a grand-daughter in this too! You mustn't, it would be too dangerous!" she looked at Laurefinwen in alarm and sternly told her. Laurefinwen's face fell, but inside, she knew what she had to do....
a/n: what did you think? questions? comments? anything?
Disclaimer: I don't own LotR...I wish I did. I am not making any money off of this, don't sue me!!!
a/n: sorry this wasn't up earlier, my comp was spazzing/being stupid. Its the last day of school here! If ne body read this from my school (C.H!!!!) I luv u all!!!!!!!
2nd a/n: oooh, this chapter is long! It has a lot of things in it, so pay attention! j/k u don't have to.... Well I hope u all enjoy it! ^_^
*huggles to reveiwers* *glaring at all others...j/k*
Laurefinwen lightly stepped through the forest with the hint of a smile on her lips. Most all of the pain of that-that-elf (!) had subsided.
'Fea is so great, so altruistic. He has always been there to comfort me when I am down.' Laurefinwen thought, flattering her face with a smile.
She then realized that she had carried herself to her house, unknowingly. Bracing herself for the argument that would most likely follow upon her entering, as she had snuck out to find Gaerelen, she was still grounded. She turned the door handle and pushed her way in.
"Laurefinwen?! Is that you?!" came grandmama's frightened call from the other room.
"Yes, I am home." Laurefinwen said exasperatedly, thinking she was worried about her. Grandmama suddenly burst from Earel's room and rushed up to Laurefinwen, saying,
"Oh, thank goodness you are home!"
"I-I am sorry, I-was-uhh...." Laurefinwen stammered.
"It's all right, dear, it doesn't matter!" grandmama said, pulling Laurefinwen along by her hand.
"What is it?" Laurefinwen asked, jerking her hand back.
"Come! It's your mother! Quickly!" she replied, dashing back.
"Mom? Mom!" Laurefinwen said in pursuit of grandmama.
Laurefinwen entered the room, Earel was lying in her bed, her left shoulder bandages, already soiled with blood. Laurefinwen gasped and rushed to her aid.
"Laurefinwen...you're home." Earel said weakly.
"What happened?" Laurefinwen asked, slumping into a chair, shocked. Grandmama then began telling the story of what happened, Earel was feeling dizzy and was stumbling about. Suddenly, without warning, she began clutching her arm and crying out in pain. For a minute she lay twitching on the floor. Again, out of nowhere, her old wound split open and blood began gushing out. They had managed to slow the bleeding, abut not stop it entirely. They bandaged it and put her in bed. That is where they all were now, they had sent for the healer, the same one that had treated her 69 years ago.
(a/n: That was for u guys, Lily and Chelsea!)
Presently, all was silent, save the gentle moaning from Earel and my tears hitting the floor.
The healer walked in without knocking, sensing the urgency of this matter. He ran to where Earel lay, limply.
"What happened here?" he asked in confusion and slight horror.
A combination of grandmama and I's answers came flooding out. He seemed to piece them together pretty thoroughly. He then asked if the bandage be removed so he could take a look ad possibly cleanse the wound. When unveiled, it was just as horrid as when she had gotten it, all those years ago. The healer sat for what seemed like an eternity, poking and prodding with his long fingers. When he turned back to us, his expression was grave. He softly spoke, in a low voice, saying,
"This wound has dark magic bound to it that is not familiar to me." he paused for a moment, then continued, "It is beyond my skills to treat this kind of wound. I do not know what will happen if action is not taken soon."
"What must I do?" Laurefinwen asked fearfully, wanting to do anything but sit here and watch he mother die.
"You may want to consult 'the old one.'" he suggested. 'The old one' is the oldest elf in your community. Because of their great lineage, they were often the most learned and wisest of all the elves in their particular settlement. Not caring that it was midnight, Laurefinwen ran out into the night in search of the old one.
She ran to the well-known hut on the edge of town. She frantically beat upon the door, but there was no answer. A strong voice called from above, saying
"You may want to stop that, as I will never answer."
Laurefinwen looked up in surprise only to see the elder (another name for 'the old one') sitting in the enormous tree overhanging her porch.
"Oh please! Old one! Help me my mo-" Laurefinwen started, crying up to the elder.
"It's all right, child, I will come." with that, she leaped down from her vantage and began walking toward the center of town.
"We must hurry!" Laurefinwen said, dashing up in front of her.
"It is all right, child, no evil will come." The old one said, slowing Laurefinwen to a walk.
After a while, they made their way to the house and inside, to Earel's bedroom where she lie, whimpering. The healer was sitting, with a puzzled look on his face. He looked up, saw the old one and began,
"I need your help! This evil is far beyond my skill lev-"
The elder held up her hand and said,
"I will read the story engraved upon this wound." She stepped and pushed her fingertips painfully to the wound, reading it.
She saw all of the images of the Morgul-blade and the terrorists. She saw that it had been bothering her today and everything connected to it. When she remover her hands, Earel slumped back into the pillows immediately. Laurefinwen gasped and ran to her side, alarmed.
"Calm down, child," the elder said soothingly. "searching the wound always leaves the patient extremely weary, she will wake in a few hours. Her injury, however is something to worry about, I have never seen anything this disturbing. I have found that the particular blade that issued this wound was forged by the dark hand of Sauron. Sometimes my mind wanders farther than I first sought out to see. It has told me that the chief of the Uruk-Hai of Mordor as taken over and began another rule of evil. he had desired power long before this and now that it was open, he took up his scattered un-unified people and rose to great power in their ranks. He has them rebuilding Barad Dur! He has begun running it anew, still brewing it with corrupted evil. After the war of the ring, not all of Sauron's most trusted orcs were captured. Those that remain assembled and they have taken the world of the Uruk's to higher than they ever have achieved before! Grishnakh is/was Sauron's most trusted advisor. Sauron gave him powers over all other orcs. He also gave him gifts, one was beauty, he decided to take upon the appearance of a strong, brave, powerful man of Gondor, all that gaze upon his face cannot tell that he was ever an orc, or is still an orc on the inside. He looked proud and venerable, far greater than the hideous orcs. Sauron also granted him his sword, forged by the hand of Sauron, filling it with his own power. The sword was a Morgul blade, it would disappear when anything pure touched its cruel, biting, ice cold tip of an unearthly metal, stronger than mithril, and darker than the ocean depths. This word was bequeathed to Grishnakh. His final gift was the gift of living forever, as the elves. Orcs were always jealous of us and our living ways, they were ever thirsting for longer life for themselves. When these were granted, Sauron still possessed the one ring, he, in reality, did have the power to do all of these things. Then was the battle of the last alliances when Isildur cut the ring from Sauron's hand, stripping him of all his power. He passed into nothingness, though he did not cease to exist. Sauron took the form of an evil eye of deep crimson, ever searching for the one ring. The ring deceived Isildur, and brought him to his death. It fell into the river and was picked up by Gollum, an evil creature who roved the waterways by night. He took it to the roots of the misty mountains, where it lay hidden for many years. It came by chance upon a hobbit, Bilbo Baggins, who later bestowed it upon his young cousin, the renowned, Frodo Baggins who went all the way to Mordor and became the undoing of the great ring." said the elder, taking a long breath,
"When the ring was undone, the sword of Sauron was not destroyed as well, Sauron had commanded it to live as long as Grishnakh did, and the blade was true to its forger.
This very blade is the one that pierced your mother," she said, motioning weakly to Earel. "How it got from Mordor to her I do not know. Do you still have the hilt?" she asked, turning to Laurefinwen and grandmama.
"Oh! Yes, I have it here!" said grandmama desperately, scurrying from the room, naturally, the elder and Laurefinwen followed. Grandmama dug the hit out of some unknown location and brought it to the old one, cautiously placing it in her hands. She brought it to her face and examined it closely. When she looked up, her expression was dark.
"There are evil things engraved on this hilt." she said, glancing at Laurefinwen and grandmama. "This indeed is the blade of Sauron passed to Grishnakh. My inner eye did not deceive me. Unfortunately, I have not the skill to fix the damage done to Earel. This requires a root of old, long past forgotten. Lothelena, flower of the stars. It is named this because it is silvery in color and shines with the light of Elbereth. It will prove hard to get, because it blooms only at midnight on the fair holiday of Yestare. Without it, there is no hope. With it, there is little. It requires great strength in mind and will power to use it correctly. If used incorrectly, it can do great damage. it is found deep in the mountains of Ered Gorgorath in Mordor. It is in a small are protected by elven magic of old. The spell can only be broken by a true elf, no orcs have been able to lay their foul hands upon this sacred meadow. I cannot put this task upon you." she said, looking at Laurefinwen. "I still do not know if any one can measure up to this quest. Only you can look deep inside yourself and see yourself worthy and accept it. It is late I must cleanse Earel's wound and be on my way, take heed to my words." With that, the elder passed out of the chamber and into Earel's room. Soon after, she left the cottage. A feeling of great dread came noticeably upon the cottage. This was far worse then either grandmama or Laurefinwen had ever dreamed. They sat in silence, but neither was idle. Their minds were whirring with activity. The minutes flew by while they tried to come to a conclusion. Closing her eyes and sighing, Laurefinwen drew herself up and declared
"I will go to Mordor." her eyes suddenly flashed with a hatred for all that the dark lord has ever done. Even now, when he is gone, his treachery lives on. Silently, she vowed to destroy the evil that had re-arisen. The chief of the Uruk-Hai still held the malice in his heart, the malice that Laurefinwen had sworn to annihilate. When grandmama heard this, she looked up with eyes wide with fear.
"No! you cannot go! I will not lose a grand-daughter in this too! You mustn't, it would be too dangerous!" she looked at Laurefinwen in alarm and sternly told her. Laurefinwen's face fell, but inside, she knew what she had to do....
a/n: what did you think? questions? comments? anything?