Disclaimer: It is all the property of Tolkien. But, for my next birthday, I
am requesting a cardboard lifesize figure of our favorite Ranger!
Disclaimer 2: "Aníron" belongs to Enya and Roma Ryan. (LOVE the song!!!)
Summary: When an unknown evil threatens the life of the fair Arwen with a
poison unknown to all, those close to her must find a way to help her cope
with the awful effects.
I Peleth Gail o Undomiel
"The Fading Light of Evenstar"
Chapter Sixteen - Awakening
Aragorn was in shock as the depth of Elrond's words hit him. Poisoned? Blind?
How could those words possibly be used to describe the woman he loved? How
had this happened?
"We have no knowledge of who is behind all of these attacks. All we can
assume is that they will not stop at this. They have tried to kill her twice,
almost with success. And now, unless we find a cure within the next few days,
she will be lost to us."
His eyes flew from the ground to the Lord of Imladris' eyes. Truth and sorrow
blazed inside them, shining forth for all to see.
"Aragorn, you are our last hope. My daughter has stopped fighting the poison.
She no longer has the will to live. You must bring her back to us. If you
can show her that there is reason for her to survive, it will give us the
time we need to find a way to conquer this, or at least hold it back from
slowly killing her. If you cannot save her, she will die."
Tears were in the eyes of all who heard Elrond's voice. Such sadness had been
present only once before, when his wife had been suffering and it was decided
that she would leave for the Undying Lands. However, that was not an option
now. Not even the power of that realm could heal the fair Evenstar now. All
hope lay with a son on Man who dared to love her.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
The sun was setting over the horizon by the time Aragorn emerged from his
council with his foster father. While he was happy to be home - the only home
he had ever really known at least - he could not help but be affected by the
changes in Imladris. A shadow seemed to have draped itself across the elven
people's shining light. Where he should have seen the carefree people of his
childhood, who were always laughing and celebrating one thing or another, he
now saw saddened people who seemed to have all the troubles of the world
placed upon their shoulders. Everyone was worried about their Evenstar, for
only a very few knew the truth of her condition.
All too soon he came to her rooms and the feeling of dread at how he would
find her rose to a height never imagined.
The slight click of the door opening and closing resounded in the hall, and
he was certain that if she were not awake, she would be after that large
sound.
Yet, she had not.
He tentatively made his way to her side, forcing himself not to cry out at
the sight of her.
His love lay still in the large bed, the slight rise and fall of her chest
being the only sign that she was still alive. She seemed so small there, a
amid the many blankets and pillows that were a vain effort to allow her some
comfort. Her body looked frail, as if it would break at the lightest touch,
and her skin was so pale it was almost translucent, with an icy sheer to it.
A look of pain was etched into her features, and he longed to smooth the
lines from her brow. He sat next to her on the edge of the bed, silently
praying to any greater being that it was all just a nightmare he would soon
awaken from. Taking one of her elegant hands in his, he gasped as he felt the
heat radiating from her skin.
A fever raged through her body.
How could this be happening? What he possibly do to help?
Words from years past rose through the mists of his mind as he recalled a
conversation they had shared. They had been on the banks of one of the many
waterfall pools in the city. It was late; many of the city's inhabitants had
already retired, and he had begun to try to persuade her to as well. She had
agreed, upon one condition: he must sing for her. "It is soothing, and helps
me rest," she had explained.
It occurred to him that it wasn't exactly the best time to be singing, but
the thought went unnoticed. He would do anything - no matter what the cost to
his ego - if it would be of aid to his love.
Clearing his throat, he struggled to remember the words he had strung
together during his journey with Manonaur. His voice started out in a
whisper, an unsteady stream through the air, growing stronger with each word,
until the words came out loud and strong. He was desperate, his mind focused
on pulling her back from the edge of the knife that she stood on.
"O môr henion i dhû:
Ely siriar, êl síla
Ai! Aníron Undómiel"
(From darkness I understand the night:
dreams flow, a star shines
Ah! I desire Evenstar)
"Tiro! Él eria e môr.
I 'lîr en êl luitha 'uren,
Ai! Aníron..."
(Look! A star rises out of the darkness
The song of the star enchants my heart
Ah! I desire...)
.
His eyes had closed during the song, and for a few short moments he could
see Arwen smiling happily in his mind. He struggled to hold onto the image,
but a small movement jerked him back from his illusions.
"E-... Es-...-tel?"
.
.
.
.
.
Nathronoelei
"Weaver of Dreams"
February 17, 2003
My parent's 21st wedding anniversary!!!
am requesting a cardboard lifesize figure of our favorite Ranger!
Disclaimer 2: "Aníron" belongs to Enya and Roma Ryan. (LOVE the song!!!)
Summary: When an unknown evil threatens the life of the fair Arwen with a
poison unknown to all, those close to her must find a way to help her cope
with the awful effects.
I Peleth Gail o Undomiel
"The Fading Light of Evenstar"
Chapter Sixteen - Awakening
Aragorn was in shock as the depth of Elrond's words hit him. Poisoned? Blind?
How could those words possibly be used to describe the woman he loved? How
had this happened?
"We have no knowledge of who is behind all of these attacks. All we can
assume is that they will not stop at this. They have tried to kill her twice,
almost with success. And now, unless we find a cure within the next few days,
she will be lost to us."
His eyes flew from the ground to the Lord of Imladris' eyes. Truth and sorrow
blazed inside them, shining forth for all to see.
"Aragorn, you are our last hope. My daughter has stopped fighting the poison.
She no longer has the will to live. You must bring her back to us. If you
can show her that there is reason for her to survive, it will give us the
time we need to find a way to conquer this, or at least hold it back from
slowly killing her. If you cannot save her, she will die."
Tears were in the eyes of all who heard Elrond's voice. Such sadness had been
present only once before, when his wife had been suffering and it was decided
that she would leave for the Undying Lands. However, that was not an option
now. Not even the power of that realm could heal the fair Evenstar now. All
hope lay with a son on Man who dared to love her.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
The sun was setting over the horizon by the time Aragorn emerged from his
council with his foster father. While he was happy to be home - the only home
he had ever really known at least - he could not help but be affected by the
changes in Imladris. A shadow seemed to have draped itself across the elven
people's shining light. Where he should have seen the carefree people of his
childhood, who were always laughing and celebrating one thing or another, he
now saw saddened people who seemed to have all the troubles of the world
placed upon their shoulders. Everyone was worried about their Evenstar, for
only a very few knew the truth of her condition.
All too soon he came to her rooms and the feeling of dread at how he would
find her rose to a height never imagined.
The slight click of the door opening and closing resounded in the hall, and
he was certain that if she were not awake, she would be after that large
sound.
Yet, she had not.
He tentatively made his way to her side, forcing himself not to cry out at
the sight of her.
His love lay still in the large bed, the slight rise and fall of her chest
being the only sign that she was still alive. She seemed so small there, a
amid the many blankets and pillows that were a vain effort to allow her some
comfort. Her body looked frail, as if it would break at the lightest touch,
and her skin was so pale it was almost translucent, with an icy sheer to it.
A look of pain was etched into her features, and he longed to smooth the
lines from her brow. He sat next to her on the edge of the bed, silently
praying to any greater being that it was all just a nightmare he would soon
awaken from. Taking one of her elegant hands in his, he gasped as he felt the
heat radiating from her skin.
A fever raged through her body.
How could this be happening? What he possibly do to help?
Words from years past rose through the mists of his mind as he recalled a
conversation they had shared. They had been on the banks of one of the many
waterfall pools in the city. It was late; many of the city's inhabitants had
already retired, and he had begun to try to persuade her to as well. She had
agreed, upon one condition: he must sing for her. "It is soothing, and helps
me rest," she had explained.
It occurred to him that it wasn't exactly the best time to be singing, but
the thought went unnoticed. He would do anything - no matter what the cost to
his ego - if it would be of aid to his love.
Clearing his throat, he struggled to remember the words he had strung
together during his journey with Manonaur. His voice started out in a
whisper, an unsteady stream through the air, growing stronger with each word,
until the words came out loud and strong. He was desperate, his mind focused
on pulling her back from the edge of the knife that she stood on.
"O môr henion i dhû:
Ely siriar, êl síla
Ai! Aníron Undómiel"
(From darkness I understand the night:
dreams flow, a star shines
Ah! I desire Evenstar)
"Tiro! Él eria e môr.
I 'lîr en êl luitha 'uren,
Ai! Aníron..."
(Look! A star rises out of the darkness
The song of the star enchants my heart
Ah! I desire...)
.
His eyes had closed during the song, and for a few short moments he could
see Arwen smiling happily in his mind. He struggled to hold onto the image,
but a small movement jerked him back from his illusions.
"E-... Es-...-tel?"
.
.
.
.
.
Nathronoelei
"Weaver of Dreams"
February 17, 2003
My parent's 21st wedding anniversary!!!