The power of music. I just realized that I might as well add in the music
some of these chapters are written to. The latter battle part is definitely
Making of a Cyborg from the soundtrack of Ghost in the Shell. Or this whole
piece maybe to Gollum's Song on the Two Towers album.
A weathered skeleton
In windy fields of memory,
Piercing like a knife
Bashu
The company moved along the river in silence. Irulan's arm was bandaged with a mixture of herbs that smelled horrible but felt cool against her skin. She had tried very hard not to wince in pain while Legolas was taking care of it, but could not keep herself from doing so a couple of times, anyway. Legolas had flinched slightly each time, apologizing as if it was his doing.
Finally they had been able to set out with their boats once again. Irulan had another short opportunity to talk to Boromir before that. Legolas insisted on remaining by her side during that, not trusting Boromir and not willing to take the risk. But Irulan knew that it was not proper and had given Gimli the task of convincing the elf while she strode off to the captain of Gondor.
Boromir had not talked too much, though. He seemed still very confused and more than nervous about the incident. He looked tired and fragile and oddly lost in other thoughts. She felt like he was somewhere else during the whole conversation, unable to hear her. Nevertheless, Irulan had apologized once more and promised that it would not happen again. She had even attempted to make a joke by saying "You can break my arm the next time if I don't keep my word", but Boromir had only smiled sadly and looked away.
Finally she had sighed and, patting him lightly on his arm, walked towards an anxiously waiting Legolas. 'I can't believe that I just gave that elf another excuse to start acting like a mother hen again!' she had thought bitterly. 'Now he'll NEVER leave my side, and once again I will have to argue and then apologize and then.....oh dear........just let me lie down and die!'
Now sitting on the boat, once again between the dwarf and the elf and gliding softly on the blue waters towards the famous Falls of Rauros in silence, she felt an uneasiness overcoming her. She could not help glancing at Boromir's back, desperately trying to detect his mood. The eerie image of a cracked vase kept coming back to her. She felt like there had been a loud cracking noise this morning and an invisible evil force had fractured the fellowship into parts. The vase was still standing, but would never hold water again. It would probably fall apart and turn into a heap with the slightest nudge.
'Can I trust Boromir again?' she thought and found no answer. She wanted to, but with the Ring still being dangerously close to his reach, nobody could guarantee that this sort of thing would not happen again. Aragorn was right - humans were weak and so far, the humans had brought the only trouble to the fellowship - that is, her and Boromir. No need to include Aragorn in that group. She sighed again and suddenly realized that Aragorn had turned around and was waving at her, pointing upwards.
The statues of the Argonath! It had been long since she had seen these. Her journey to Mordor had brought her to these premises, but even then she had not seen the majestic statues from the river and so up close. The two immensely tall male statues, carved in the likeness of Isildur and Anarion -the sons of Elendil- marked the ancient northern border of Gondor. Anarion had died in the Siege of Barad-dûr while Isildur had succeeded in cutting the ring from Sauron's hand and thereby changed the destiny of Middle Earth. They were standing on both sides of the river, guarding it. Soon the three tiny boats would pass between these looming stone figures. She looked up in utter amazement and could not help a sense of pride filling her. 'Mankind' she thought; the 'Younger Children'. And what a fantastic way to put it. For children they were; with the joy, hate, greed, selfishness, curiosity and boldness of children.
Irulan had often tried to imagine herself as one of the other races or a member of the other cultures she had come across Middle Earth. Some had been very fun to imagine while some had made her shudder. But eventually she had realized a truth: no matter how much she admired elves and appreciated all the other races and cultures for their originality, she was happy to be a human being. She could not imagine being anything else. With all her weaknesses and her advantages, with all her good and bad aspects, Irulan was and would always be a human. She would resent and curse that in the many darker times yet to come, but the truth she had discovered would remain with her till the end of her life.
She smiled back at Aragorn when he turned again to look at her and even Boromir glanced behind and she grinned at him too. As the captain of Gondor, he too felt pride in his ancestors. 'This is Aragorn's kin' she thought then with amazement. 'Who would have thought that I would pass between the monuments of his ancestors with him for a quest as dark and sad as this?'
Not too long afterwards they saw the Falls of Rauros ahead. So finally they had reached Amon Hen. Their journey would continue through Emyn Muil from here on. Aragorn directed the company to the western shore, towards Parth Galen, though. The roaring mighty waterfall was easy to see from here and a cool breeze coming from that direction was slowly washing their faces. All three boats reached the shore and they slowly stepped off the boats, happy to feel solid earth beneath them again.
"We'll camp here at the shore" said Aragorn, "and cross over to the other side once darkness falls. So don't stray far."
She stood at the shore, looking over towards the other side and thought about Emyn Muil. It would be a very difficult trip. Especially with the present company. 'Finally I'll be doing something useful ever since I joined this group' she thought and it made her feel a little better.
"How is your arm, Irulan?" said Aragorn next to her.
She grimaced and waved her hand. "As long as it's not broken, it won't be a problem" she said, not looking at him.
He did not walk away. He seemed to be troubled and tired, glancing to the other shore.
"Don't worry, Aragorn. The trip through Emyn Muil will be child's play compared to what we went through till now" she said, lying smoothly.
Gimli, as usual, had his two cents to add to the matter. "Easy indeed!" he snapped and began to explain the rather true and nasty sides of Emyn Muil to the hobbits, sounding almost desperate himself. Irulan shot him another dark look but he just kept on mumbling and arguing with Aragorn about the passage they had chosen.
Suddenly somebody said "Where is Frodo?" and Irulan could swear that she heard another one of those nasty cracking sounds in her head. That image of the vase once again returned to her and she walked around hastily, looking for Frodo. It was not his way to disappear like this, much less to walk away, but the hobbit had grown restless and strange ever since Lothlorien, and much more reserved since Moria. With all their silly arguments and greed, they had not cared enough for the most important person in this quest - Frodo Baggins the ringbearer! 'Damn!' she cursed again, 'Silly, stupid woman! Think less of yourself for once and more about the quest'.
Suddenly Aragorn grabbed his sword from below the tree where it was lying and began to run into the woods. Everyone stared after him. "What is going on?" said Irulan, both confused and afraid. Legolas did not answer but pointed with his head towards Boromir's bags. Irulan's eyes widened when she realized that Boromir was missing as well. 'Crack!' She heard another fissure and in her mind's eye another fracture ran along the vase. Without looking back she dashed behind Aragorn. She heard the others talking behind her, but her mind was already racing through the horrible possible roads they might be forced to take if thing would end up as she feared they would.
Soon Irulan caught up with him and they began to run side by side. She cast him a fearful sidelong glance and Aragorn looked back at her, his eyes speaking books. He, too, was afraid. They were running blindly, not really looking for tracks or any signs of Frodo, for they had dashed too much ahead for that and would have to trust their eyes and luck now.
Frodo, though, was nowhere to be found. Aragorn stopped suddenly and Irulan mimicked him. He seemed to be listening, but all Irulan could hear was the wild beating of her heart, more due to her fear than the running. She looked around again and turned in circles so many times, she almost forgot the direction of the camp in her confusion.
"Do you hear anything?" he whispered. Irulan tried to listen again. Nothing. She shook her head and unconsciously took off her staff and held it in her hand. Her blood was pumping like wild; she felt the coppery taste of adrenaline in her mouth. And suddenly she realized what Aragorn meant - for he was not listening to hear Frodo, but rather to the odd silence of the forest. It seemed to be too silent all of a sudden. 'Where are all the birds?' she thought, looking up the trees. And that's when she saw the upper part of stone ruins ahead in the distance.
"Aragorn" she whispered and pointed towards it. Maybe Frodo had seen it as well and gone there in curiosity. Maybe none of their fears was true - Frodo was just off sightseeing and Boromir would return anytime with a bunch of sticks for the fire in his arms. The fear did not subside, however. Aragorn nodded silently as if he had sensed her train of thought and they both resumed their running towards the ruins.
Frodo was indeed there. His back was turned to them. They slowly walked towards him, a little surprised that they had found him so quickly. When Aragorn called out to him however, and he turned towards them with fresh tears in his eyes, Irulan knew that they had been too late. Another crack echoed in her head as she stood there looking at a very frightened and desperate Frodo, trying to back away from them as if they were the enemy.
"Stay away from me!" he yelled at them and Irulan literally flinched. She threw a concerned look at Aragorn, but he did not look back. He slowly kept advancing towards the hobbit.
"Where is the Ring, Frodo?" he demanded. But Frodo was too afraid to answer and looked like a wild animal, ready to bolt away. Irulan very deftly followed Aragorn, keeping a comfortable distance, not wanting to scare Frodo even more. Instead, she was looking around, trying to see whether Boromir was around. The man could appear suddenly and try to attack them. She could not be distracted right now.
"I have sworn to protect you!" said Aragorn with anger in his voice now.
"Can you protect me from yourself?!" screamed Frodo back and once more, both humans halted, not knowing how to answer that and how to win back the trust of this hobbit. Frodo slowly opened his hand and Irulan tried very hard not to exhale in relief. She closed her eyes for a moment. 'He still has it! Thank the heavens, he still has the Ring' she thought. By now, she knew that Boromir had tried to take it. Frodo's expression and fear along with his mistrust to them was an open proof. 'Boromir, my brother, what have you done?' she thought ruefully.
"Would YOU destroy it?" asked Frodo with utter sadness as Aragorn proceeded to approach. Irulan remained standing. She looked at the Ring in Frodo's palm. So little indeed. Looking so innocent. And yet, that was no ring. It was Sauron himself. Irulan felt the hair on the back of her neck rising slowly. Aragorn knelt in front of Frodo, looking at the Ring that lay extended to him, right before his eyes. And something very odd happened, for she strangely heard her own name whispered and it felt like a call she could not resist for anything in the world. A part of her remained alert and standing, but another part of her was very slowly and slyly pulled, sucked into a dream. A dream where she owned the Ring and saved Middle Earth. A dream in which she sat on her throne forever, never aging, never failing; reining a world of peace and splendor till the ends of time. Aragorn knelt before her, and Boromir. Gimli and Legolas fell to their knees. Hetaire and Ingmar bowed to her; Eprim, Gabrim and Enaia looked with tears of admiration in their eyes. All looked up to this wisest of all queens, fairest of all rulers. She stopped the elves from leaving. She stopped the dwarves from digging. She stopped men from fighting. Galadhriel was wrong - She preserved Middle Earth exactly as it was right now. "Irulan!" cheered the masses that reached from one horizon to the other as she passed on her horse, "Irulan! Irulan! Irulan!"
Aragorn closed Frodo's fingers over the ring and pushed the hobbit's hand away softly and Irulan woke up, almost panting. She instinctively took a step back and looked around. A fear gripped her heart and desperation. 'How can one resist that?' she thought. Suddenly she wanted to be far away from here. She never wanted to see that thing again. Frodo Baggins became a hero in her eyes instantly.
"I would go into the very fires of Mordor with you" whispered Aragorn. Irulan swallowed hard and looked away, afraid to feel the temptation again.
"I know" said Frodo softly. "Don't tell the others. Especially Sam. He won't understand" he added a moment later. And Irulan knew he meant to leave alone, not wanting to inflict this torture on anyone else in the fellowship and not being able to trust anybody else either. And who could blame him? Yet, she felt her eyes widening and hastily walked up to them.
"Frodo, you can not leave" she whispered, her voice betraying her fear and anxiety.
"I have to Irulan" he whispered and looked up at her with so much sadness, she just felt like grabbing him and hugging him senseless.
"But.......but.....you can't" she resisted, "Let me come with you. You can not find the way on your own" she pleaded. 'Please, see it. See the truth in what I am saying!' she begged mentally. Frodo only smiled and looked away.
"I can guide you Frodo. It'll be just the two of us and we would have a faster pace and a higher chance at arriving unseen" she whispered urgently. Then suddenly she thought about being alone with Frodo in Mordor...that is..Frodo and the RING....and her heart faltered. 'Can you protect me from yourself?' sounded Frodo's voice in her head once more and Irulan realized with frustration that she lacked the strength and faith to answer that question.
"You once told me that we all walk our own paths" Frodo said suddenly, his voice dreamy and distant. Irulan was so surprised, she did not know what to say. "That sometimes we grew so fond of others, we did not wish to let go" he added and turned to look at her. "You were right, Irulan. It is time to let go before something makes that decision FOR us" he whispered.
Irulan felt her feelings draining away from her. She wanted to protest, she wanted to say that this was not what she had meant, that she was talking about Gandalf and she had not been making sense in the first place........but in her heart, she knew that Frodo was right - even though for all the wrong reasons. 'So this is goodbye' she thought.
She slowly crossed the remaining distance between them then and, kneeling next to Aragorn, kissed Frodo's forehead. "Then you are stronger than all of us, Frodo Baggins. Go in peace and don't look back" she said slowly; the sadness of this sudden parting growing in her with every word.
Suddenly Aragorn stood up hastily and looked around, then glanced back at Frodo once again. "Go Frodo!" he said and Irulan realized that Frodo's infamous sword Sting had began to glow blue - an indication that orcs were near. "Go!" Aragorn yelled again and walked away, drawing his sword. Irulan too sprang to her feet and casting one last look at a departing Frodo, ran up to join Aragorn. A large number of orcs were walking up to them. 'No, not orcs' her mind whispered, and tried to remember the word Gandalf had used for these beasts, "Uruk-hai" she whispered. Aragorn looked at her and she looked back, unconsciously extending her staff. "Lead, king of kings" she said, her voice distant and metallic to her own ears, for the calmness was enveloping her very fast now, "and I shall follow". And with that, the void took her and Irulan vanished in the cold, senseless, thoughtless waters of time.
***
Once again, the world became a mass of "thing"s - objects that had not meaning or value attached to them. She became the wind bending the grass, the water melting the rocks, the sunlight cracking the mud. She was a natural force shaping and forging other natural forces and all of them together were just tiny mingling, merging and diverging flows in a cold universe, being bent and forged by other and greater forces. Her anxiety, her fears, her sorrow, her love meant nothing here. She was a simple means to an end, a creature designed for a specific purpose, and that purpose was hidden from her, never to be revealed. And that was exactly how it should be - for she did not care what it was.
Irulan shifted, and shifted back; shifted in and shifted out; shifted again and yet again. The world stopped and sped up, then stopped and sped up. It became real, then faded into a dream; it became now, then folded into a timeless heap. The Uruk-hai died, the Uruk-hai ceased to exist. The Uruk- hai charged, the Uruk-hai were no more. There was a battle and suddenly her mind lost the meaning of "battle", yet to remember it again a moment (A day? A century?) later. She felt herself crammed into the body of a woman, then expanded over a whole universe, then hastily crammed back again.
More than anything, it felt like dancing. And Irulan danced to the rhythm of ancient, long forgotten songs. Songs of the soul; songs that knew no race, culture or gender. She had danced it countless times before, always bound to forget the steps once the music stops, and destined to remember each and single one once the tune started again.
Then, sometime along the battle dance, something very odd happened. For she FELT. And never before had she felt anything in this state. And her body and her mind parted like two bubbles of air in water, slowly drifting apart. Her body continued to dance to obey the cravings of the rhythm while her mind began to wake up, as if waking up from a dream. She knew she felt something, but she could yet not analyze what she felt. She knew that she was perceiving something, but her perception was beyond her. While her body did not miss a single step, her mind twisted, turned, folded over and over again. She felt it stirring and stretching, struggling to grasp, but sliding, unable to find anything to hold on to. She felt something pressing down on it, bending it, bending it to the point it could not exist anymore, and yet bending it some more. And although this should be painful, she was spared from the pain in the void and felt nothing. A buzz of confusion erupted in her, like the distant sound of a flock of birds taking flight. And then this feeling too slowly subsided, faded and finally left her.
An odd twilight set in and the world flickered, rose, flickered, fell back, flickered, tried to rise again and finally flickered and stopped completely. Her body, as well as her mind stopped, for suddenly there was nothing to react to anymore. She did not look up to see it; she KNEW it to be so. There was utter silence. The navy sky was oddly pasted on the alluring yellow dried grass of the meadow and the wicked green of the trees around. It looked more like a painting or a stitching than a real scenery. Irulan very slowly raised her head and looked up and she saw a woman standing before her, a small distance away, slowly raising her head and looking up. Her dark long hair was caught floating very softly in a breeze that was no more, strands of it frozen around her like a dark halo. Her face and all her clothes were covered in blood and she could see every drop and every shade of it. She could see the pores of the rough material of her tunic and every stain and crease on it. She was standing with her feet apart, her right arm swung slightly towards the back, the staff in her left hand lowered horizontally to the ground. Irulan looked into the eyes of the woman, darker than the darkest night, slowly rising to meet hers. She looked for a long time, neither thinking, nor feeling; and the other woman looked back, neither moving nor blinking. She felt the muscles of her mouth ever so slightly twitch and she saw the other woman smile the ghost of a smile. Her mind was still bending, bending, bending and she felt like it would break any moment now, and yet it did not break and bent further. And in a fraction of time that was shorter than the blink of an eye, and yet long enough to encapsulate centuries, she recognized what she was feeling: it was what men call hate - and yet no man had felt such raw, sharp, cold hate. Both Irulans gasped at the same instant and the world collapsed.
A weathered skeleton
In windy fields of memory,
Piercing like a knife
Bashu
The company moved along the river in silence. Irulan's arm was bandaged with a mixture of herbs that smelled horrible but felt cool against her skin. She had tried very hard not to wince in pain while Legolas was taking care of it, but could not keep herself from doing so a couple of times, anyway. Legolas had flinched slightly each time, apologizing as if it was his doing.
Finally they had been able to set out with their boats once again. Irulan had another short opportunity to talk to Boromir before that. Legolas insisted on remaining by her side during that, not trusting Boromir and not willing to take the risk. But Irulan knew that it was not proper and had given Gimli the task of convincing the elf while she strode off to the captain of Gondor.
Boromir had not talked too much, though. He seemed still very confused and more than nervous about the incident. He looked tired and fragile and oddly lost in other thoughts. She felt like he was somewhere else during the whole conversation, unable to hear her. Nevertheless, Irulan had apologized once more and promised that it would not happen again. She had even attempted to make a joke by saying "You can break my arm the next time if I don't keep my word", but Boromir had only smiled sadly and looked away.
Finally she had sighed and, patting him lightly on his arm, walked towards an anxiously waiting Legolas. 'I can't believe that I just gave that elf another excuse to start acting like a mother hen again!' she had thought bitterly. 'Now he'll NEVER leave my side, and once again I will have to argue and then apologize and then.....oh dear........just let me lie down and die!'
Now sitting on the boat, once again between the dwarf and the elf and gliding softly on the blue waters towards the famous Falls of Rauros in silence, she felt an uneasiness overcoming her. She could not help glancing at Boromir's back, desperately trying to detect his mood. The eerie image of a cracked vase kept coming back to her. She felt like there had been a loud cracking noise this morning and an invisible evil force had fractured the fellowship into parts. The vase was still standing, but would never hold water again. It would probably fall apart and turn into a heap with the slightest nudge.
'Can I trust Boromir again?' she thought and found no answer. She wanted to, but with the Ring still being dangerously close to his reach, nobody could guarantee that this sort of thing would not happen again. Aragorn was right - humans were weak and so far, the humans had brought the only trouble to the fellowship - that is, her and Boromir. No need to include Aragorn in that group. She sighed again and suddenly realized that Aragorn had turned around and was waving at her, pointing upwards.
The statues of the Argonath! It had been long since she had seen these. Her journey to Mordor had brought her to these premises, but even then she had not seen the majestic statues from the river and so up close. The two immensely tall male statues, carved in the likeness of Isildur and Anarion -the sons of Elendil- marked the ancient northern border of Gondor. Anarion had died in the Siege of Barad-dûr while Isildur had succeeded in cutting the ring from Sauron's hand and thereby changed the destiny of Middle Earth. They were standing on both sides of the river, guarding it. Soon the three tiny boats would pass between these looming stone figures. She looked up in utter amazement and could not help a sense of pride filling her. 'Mankind' she thought; the 'Younger Children'. And what a fantastic way to put it. For children they were; with the joy, hate, greed, selfishness, curiosity and boldness of children.
Irulan had often tried to imagine herself as one of the other races or a member of the other cultures she had come across Middle Earth. Some had been very fun to imagine while some had made her shudder. But eventually she had realized a truth: no matter how much she admired elves and appreciated all the other races and cultures for their originality, she was happy to be a human being. She could not imagine being anything else. With all her weaknesses and her advantages, with all her good and bad aspects, Irulan was and would always be a human. She would resent and curse that in the many darker times yet to come, but the truth she had discovered would remain with her till the end of her life.
She smiled back at Aragorn when he turned again to look at her and even Boromir glanced behind and she grinned at him too. As the captain of Gondor, he too felt pride in his ancestors. 'This is Aragorn's kin' she thought then with amazement. 'Who would have thought that I would pass between the monuments of his ancestors with him for a quest as dark and sad as this?'
Not too long afterwards they saw the Falls of Rauros ahead. So finally they had reached Amon Hen. Their journey would continue through Emyn Muil from here on. Aragorn directed the company to the western shore, towards Parth Galen, though. The roaring mighty waterfall was easy to see from here and a cool breeze coming from that direction was slowly washing their faces. All three boats reached the shore and they slowly stepped off the boats, happy to feel solid earth beneath them again.
"We'll camp here at the shore" said Aragorn, "and cross over to the other side once darkness falls. So don't stray far."
She stood at the shore, looking over towards the other side and thought about Emyn Muil. It would be a very difficult trip. Especially with the present company. 'Finally I'll be doing something useful ever since I joined this group' she thought and it made her feel a little better.
"How is your arm, Irulan?" said Aragorn next to her.
She grimaced and waved her hand. "As long as it's not broken, it won't be a problem" she said, not looking at him.
He did not walk away. He seemed to be troubled and tired, glancing to the other shore.
"Don't worry, Aragorn. The trip through Emyn Muil will be child's play compared to what we went through till now" she said, lying smoothly.
Gimli, as usual, had his two cents to add to the matter. "Easy indeed!" he snapped and began to explain the rather true and nasty sides of Emyn Muil to the hobbits, sounding almost desperate himself. Irulan shot him another dark look but he just kept on mumbling and arguing with Aragorn about the passage they had chosen.
Suddenly somebody said "Where is Frodo?" and Irulan could swear that she heard another one of those nasty cracking sounds in her head. That image of the vase once again returned to her and she walked around hastily, looking for Frodo. It was not his way to disappear like this, much less to walk away, but the hobbit had grown restless and strange ever since Lothlorien, and much more reserved since Moria. With all their silly arguments and greed, they had not cared enough for the most important person in this quest - Frodo Baggins the ringbearer! 'Damn!' she cursed again, 'Silly, stupid woman! Think less of yourself for once and more about the quest'.
Suddenly Aragorn grabbed his sword from below the tree where it was lying and began to run into the woods. Everyone stared after him. "What is going on?" said Irulan, both confused and afraid. Legolas did not answer but pointed with his head towards Boromir's bags. Irulan's eyes widened when she realized that Boromir was missing as well. 'Crack!' She heard another fissure and in her mind's eye another fracture ran along the vase. Without looking back she dashed behind Aragorn. She heard the others talking behind her, but her mind was already racing through the horrible possible roads they might be forced to take if thing would end up as she feared they would.
Soon Irulan caught up with him and they began to run side by side. She cast him a fearful sidelong glance and Aragorn looked back at her, his eyes speaking books. He, too, was afraid. They were running blindly, not really looking for tracks or any signs of Frodo, for they had dashed too much ahead for that and would have to trust their eyes and luck now.
Frodo, though, was nowhere to be found. Aragorn stopped suddenly and Irulan mimicked him. He seemed to be listening, but all Irulan could hear was the wild beating of her heart, more due to her fear than the running. She looked around again and turned in circles so many times, she almost forgot the direction of the camp in her confusion.
"Do you hear anything?" he whispered. Irulan tried to listen again. Nothing. She shook her head and unconsciously took off her staff and held it in her hand. Her blood was pumping like wild; she felt the coppery taste of adrenaline in her mouth. And suddenly she realized what Aragorn meant - for he was not listening to hear Frodo, but rather to the odd silence of the forest. It seemed to be too silent all of a sudden. 'Where are all the birds?' she thought, looking up the trees. And that's when she saw the upper part of stone ruins ahead in the distance.
"Aragorn" she whispered and pointed towards it. Maybe Frodo had seen it as well and gone there in curiosity. Maybe none of their fears was true - Frodo was just off sightseeing and Boromir would return anytime with a bunch of sticks for the fire in his arms. The fear did not subside, however. Aragorn nodded silently as if he had sensed her train of thought and they both resumed their running towards the ruins.
Frodo was indeed there. His back was turned to them. They slowly walked towards him, a little surprised that they had found him so quickly. When Aragorn called out to him however, and he turned towards them with fresh tears in his eyes, Irulan knew that they had been too late. Another crack echoed in her head as she stood there looking at a very frightened and desperate Frodo, trying to back away from them as if they were the enemy.
"Stay away from me!" he yelled at them and Irulan literally flinched. She threw a concerned look at Aragorn, but he did not look back. He slowly kept advancing towards the hobbit.
"Where is the Ring, Frodo?" he demanded. But Frodo was too afraid to answer and looked like a wild animal, ready to bolt away. Irulan very deftly followed Aragorn, keeping a comfortable distance, not wanting to scare Frodo even more. Instead, she was looking around, trying to see whether Boromir was around. The man could appear suddenly and try to attack them. She could not be distracted right now.
"I have sworn to protect you!" said Aragorn with anger in his voice now.
"Can you protect me from yourself?!" screamed Frodo back and once more, both humans halted, not knowing how to answer that and how to win back the trust of this hobbit. Frodo slowly opened his hand and Irulan tried very hard not to exhale in relief. She closed her eyes for a moment. 'He still has it! Thank the heavens, he still has the Ring' she thought. By now, she knew that Boromir had tried to take it. Frodo's expression and fear along with his mistrust to them was an open proof. 'Boromir, my brother, what have you done?' she thought ruefully.
"Would YOU destroy it?" asked Frodo with utter sadness as Aragorn proceeded to approach. Irulan remained standing. She looked at the Ring in Frodo's palm. So little indeed. Looking so innocent. And yet, that was no ring. It was Sauron himself. Irulan felt the hair on the back of her neck rising slowly. Aragorn knelt in front of Frodo, looking at the Ring that lay extended to him, right before his eyes. And something very odd happened, for she strangely heard her own name whispered and it felt like a call she could not resist for anything in the world. A part of her remained alert and standing, but another part of her was very slowly and slyly pulled, sucked into a dream. A dream where she owned the Ring and saved Middle Earth. A dream in which she sat on her throne forever, never aging, never failing; reining a world of peace and splendor till the ends of time. Aragorn knelt before her, and Boromir. Gimli and Legolas fell to their knees. Hetaire and Ingmar bowed to her; Eprim, Gabrim and Enaia looked with tears of admiration in their eyes. All looked up to this wisest of all queens, fairest of all rulers. She stopped the elves from leaving. She stopped the dwarves from digging. She stopped men from fighting. Galadhriel was wrong - She preserved Middle Earth exactly as it was right now. "Irulan!" cheered the masses that reached from one horizon to the other as she passed on her horse, "Irulan! Irulan! Irulan!"
Aragorn closed Frodo's fingers over the ring and pushed the hobbit's hand away softly and Irulan woke up, almost panting. She instinctively took a step back and looked around. A fear gripped her heart and desperation. 'How can one resist that?' she thought. Suddenly she wanted to be far away from here. She never wanted to see that thing again. Frodo Baggins became a hero in her eyes instantly.
"I would go into the very fires of Mordor with you" whispered Aragorn. Irulan swallowed hard and looked away, afraid to feel the temptation again.
"I know" said Frodo softly. "Don't tell the others. Especially Sam. He won't understand" he added a moment later. And Irulan knew he meant to leave alone, not wanting to inflict this torture on anyone else in the fellowship and not being able to trust anybody else either. And who could blame him? Yet, she felt her eyes widening and hastily walked up to them.
"Frodo, you can not leave" she whispered, her voice betraying her fear and anxiety.
"I have to Irulan" he whispered and looked up at her with so much sadness, she just felt like grabbing him and hugging him senseless.
"But.......but.....you can't" she resisted, "Let me come with you. You can not find the way on your own" she pleaded. 'Please, see it. See the truth in what I am saying!' she begged mentally. Frodo only smiled and looked away.
"I can guide you Frodo. It'll be just the two of us and we would have a faster pace and a higher chance at arriving unseen" she whispered urgently. Then suddenly she thought about being alone with Frodo in Mordor...that is..Frodo and the RING....and her heart faltered. 'Can you protect me from yourself?' sounded Frodo's voice in her head once more and Irulan realized with frustration that she lacked the strength and faith to answer that question.
"You once told me that we all walk our own paths" Frodo said suddenly, his voice dreamy and distant. Irulan was so surprised, she did not know what to say. "That sometimes we grew so fond of others, we did not wish to let go" he added and turned to look at her. "You were right, Irulan. It is time to let go before something makes that decision FOR us" he whispered.
Irulan felt her feelings draining away from her. She wanted to protest, she wanted to say that this was not what she had meant, that she was talking about Gandalf and she had not been making sense in the first place........but in her heart, she knew that Frodo was right - even though for all the wrong reasons. 'So this is goodbye' she thought.
She slowly crossed the remaining distance between them then and, kneeling next to Aragorn, kissed Frodo's forehead. "Then you are stronger than all of us, Frodo Baggins. Go in peace and don't look back" she said slowly; the sadness of this sudden parting growing in her with every word.
Suddenly Aragorn stood up hastily and looked around, then glanced back at Frodo once again. "Go Frodo!" he said and Irulan realized that Frodo's infamous sword Sting had began to glow blue - an indication that orcs were near. "Go!" Aragorn yelled again and walked away, drawing his sword. Irulan too sprang to her feet and casting one last look at a departing Frodo, ran up to join Aragorn. A large number of orcs were walking up to them. 'No, not orcs' her mind whispered, and tried to remember the word Gandalf had used for these beasts, "Uruk-hai" she whispered. Aragorn looked at her and she looked back, unconsciously extending her staff. "Lead, king of kings" she said, her voice distant and metallic to her own ears, for the calmness was enveloping her very fast now, "and I shall follow". And with that, the void took her and Irulan vanished in the cold, senseless, thoughtless waters of time.
***
Once again, the world became a mass of "thing"s - objects that had not meaning or value attached to them. She became the wind bending the grass, the water melting the rocks, the sunlight cracking the mud. She was a natural force shaping and forging other natural forces and all of them together were just tiny mingling, merging and diverging flows in a cold universe, being bent and forged by other and greater forces. Her anxiety, her fears, her sorrow, her love meant nothing here. She was a simple means to an end, a creature designed for a specific purpose, and that purpose was hidden from her, never to be revealed. And that was exactly how it should be - for she did not care what it was.
Irulan shifted, and shifted back; shifted in and shifted out; shifted again and yet again. The world stopped and sped up, then stopped and sped up. It became real, then faded into a dream; it became now, then folded into a timeless heap. The Uruk-hai died, the Uruk-hai ceased to exist. The Uruk- hai charged, the Uruk-hai were no more. There was a battle and suddenly her mind lost the meaning of "battle", yet to remember it again a moment (A day? A century?) later. She felt herself crammed into the body of a woman, then expanded over a whole universe, then hastily crammed back again.
More than anything, it felt like dancing. And Irulan danced to the rhythm of ancient, long forgotten songs. Songs of the soul; songs that knew no race, culture or gender. She had danced it countless times before, always bound to forget the steps once the music stops, and destined to remember each and single one once the tune started again.
Then, sometime along the battle dance, something very odd happened. For she FELT. And never before had she felt anything in this state. And her body and her mind parted like two bubbles of air in water, slowly drifting apart. Her body continued to dance to obey the cravings of the rhythm while her mind began to wake up, as if waking up from a dream. She knew she felt something, but she could yet not analyze what she felt. She knew that she was perceiving something, but her perception was beyond her. While her body did not miss a single step, her mind twisted, turned, folded over and over again. She felt it stirring and stretching, struggling to grasp, but sliding, unable to find anything to hold on to. She felt something pressing down on it, bending it, bending it to the point it could not exist anymore, and yet bending it some more. And although this should be painful, she was spared from the pain in the void and felt nothing. A buzz of confusion erupted in her, like the distant sound of a flock of birds taking flight. And then this feeling too slowly subsided, faded and finally left her.
An odd twilight set in and the world flickered, rose, flickered, fell back, flickered, tried to rise again and finally flickered and stopped completely. Her body, as well as her mind stopped, for suddenly there was nothing to react to anymore. She did not look up to see it; she KNEW it to be so. There was utter silence. The navy sky was oddly pasted on the alluring yellow dried grass of the meadow and the wicked green of the trees around. It looked more like a painting or a stitching than a real scenery. Irulan very slowly raised her head and looked up and she saw a woman standing before her, a small distance away, slowly raising her head and looking up. Her dark long hair was caught floating very softly in a breeze that was no more, strands of it frozen around her like a dark halo. Her face and all her clothes were covered in blood and she could see every drop and every shade of it. She could see the pores of the rough material of her tunic and every stain and crease on it. She was standing with her feet apart, her right arm swung slightly towards the back, the staff in her left hand lowered horizontally to the ground. Irulan looked into the eyes of the woman, darker than the darkest night, slowly rising to meet hers. She looked for a long time, neither thinking, nor feeling; and the other woman looked back, neither moving nor blinking. She felt the muscles of her mouth ever so slightly twitch and she saw the other woman smile the ghost of a smile. Her mind was still bending, bending, bending and she felt like it would break any moment now, and yet it did not break and bent further. And in a fraction of time that was shorter than the blink of an eye, and yet long enough to encapsulate centuries, she recognized what she was feeling: it was what men call hate - and yet no man had felt such raw, sharp, cold hate. Both Irulans gasped at the same instant and the world collapsed.