'The Light Within' Chapter 6 (it's a very long chapter) A/N: 'Morlas' is
meant to mean dark leaf but if it don't then it's just what Legolas renamed
himself when he became the Dark Lord.
IN BARAD-DUR
As the orc was dragged across the red floor, he squirmed against his captor. He realised that it was blood, the blood of men, orcs, wizards, elves, goblins, and other creatures of Middle Earth. The elf that was holding him looked down nervously. Inside the orc smiled. So the new Lord of Barad Dur did not have willing slaves. At least, ones that were only willing to do the deeds so that they too were not tortured.
He was pulled hastily to his feet and a knock resounded through the wooden door; it then opened to reveal the throne room. The stone flagged floors were slippery but glistened with the light that any Elf, man or dwarf would have known to be Mithril. At the far end was the ancient throne seat of Sauron, now replaced by a golden seat carved with the images of death and torment that the orcs of Mordor had once relished in. on the throne sat the elf. The most feared creature in the history of all those who still lived- King Morlas. He wore robes of scarlet and black, his coal-black hair falling abruptly around his shoulders and framed his gracious face.
The only things that hinted to his evil heart were his eyes. They were a deep red and when one looked into them, the looked forever; for these eyes had no end to them. They went on and on, drowning people in vortexes of fear. On either side behind him, hung the decaying corpses of Elrond and Aragorn. (He had returned to collect this as a trophy of his new powers.)
As the orc cowered before him, Morlas smiled and the orc felt a sharp pain in the back of his head. He promptly fell to the ground unconscious.
Later, Morlas withdrew from the torture chamber. He wiped the foul blood from his pale hands and felt a sigh of relief escape from within him. He now had the knowledge he needed. Arwen was forming an army in Rivendell and in a fortnight would be setting out towards his tower. //Let her come, I have not had many visitors.\\ Morlas sharply stopped his thoughts from the path into which they always strayed; torture, pain, information, allies. Instead, he called upon himself to remember the reason that he had killed his former best friend.
"Only, you question my loyalty, when I'm trying not to make you feel useless, and you have taken the most beautiful of elf maidens, when you don't even deserve her." replied Legolas.
"I am only trying to help, and for your information, Arwen loves me, I love her, and I am not trying to take her away from the elves, anyway, why are you so worried? Or are you trying to tell me that you love her too?" Aragorn could feel his temper increase rapidly.
"Yes" said Legolas boldly. "I do love her, I do not think that you love, or deserve her, and I am prepared to risk everything I own for her."
"Really?"
"Yes, really."
"Alright, I Aragorn son of Arathorn challenge you to a fight, the winner takes Arwen."
"Fine. I Legolas son of Thranduil accept your challenge. We fight to the death."
Morlas frowned and his face began to form a pout. He turned towards his servant, an elf named Rumil.
"I won the fight. She's mine!" He began storming down the hallway. The elf ran to catch up with him.
"Who's yours sire?" he had a puzzled expression on his face. Morlas turned round smiling as he had once before. This time, his expression was calm and soft, the blazing in his eyes was gone for the moment.
"Arwen." The elf looked shocked. Morlas placed a hand upon his shoulder.
"Do not fear, I am not going to hurt her." He then turned and sauntered out into his city that now contained many, many of his own breed, the Kilyut. He had created this race using his powers and the powers of the ring. They were fair and immortal like the elves but they had the power and strength of the Istari and the evil hearts of the orcs and Uruk Hai. They were the greatest armies to ever walk Middle-Earth.
IN HOBBITON
Night drew near in the Shire as the clouds surrounded the sunset. Fily was walking through the fields of Hobbiton, mindlessly gazing at the beautiful land that surrounded him. The hobbits had once again escaped the evils that shadowed the outside world although there were some that had left for the hills of Ered Luin as they suspected that their time as a free people was drawing to an end. Fily looked hungrily up at the stars. Everybody had heard the tales of Bilbo and Frodo, possibly the greatest adventures ever had. Fily believed that Hobbits were the right creatures for adventures, as had been proven in the past, he wanted one of his very own. He longed to meet the elves and men and often wandered up to the boundaries of the Shire to peer into the world beyond. He had looked at the maps Bilbo had made and knew all of the forests and mountains, he was confident that he could be a great ranger like Aragorn.
He sighed as he though about how utterly dull his life was. He slowly ambled up the hill to his home, he was only 23 and his mother had a nasty habit of locking the door when he was still out in the fields. Nights in Hobbiton had gotten colder in the last age and he did not particularly want to be left outside, even if the stars were shining. He smiled up at them and saw Eärendil shining brightly, showing the future.
Fily lay silently in his bed, sleeping softly whilst outside shadows moved and glided across every blade of grass, every flower, every tree, every star. However, one of these shadows was not just a shadow. It was in fact a group of Kilyut, moving like noiseless whispers across the houses. Nobody heard the muffled cries of the slaughtered Hobbits as they were murdered in their sleep.
Fily stifled a yawn as he woke. The young hobbit slowly opened his eyes and stared in shock at the fair face that stood over him. He swiftly rolled over as a silver blade struck the spot where he had lay. The Kilyut hissed with rage. Fily was scared, he had heard that the Kilyut were the best fighters ever born. He was certain that he was going to die. He flung himself towards the door and hurriedly stood up as his attacker lunged at him. In his panic, Fily reached out for something to defend himself with. His hand clutched at something small and he was about to throw it down again when he realised that it was a box of matches. Running out into the hall, he drew a match from the box and lit it. As his pursuer glided around the door, Fily tossed the small flame in his direction and watched as it set fire to the Kilyut's hair. He shrieked and tried to tear it out but to no avail, the flames soon engulfed his entire body.
Fily picked up his coat and the packet of biscuits still lying on the table and ran. He ran, propelled by his fear, down the hill and towards Bree. When he reached Bree he carried on running past it and did not stop until the biscuits had run out and he could no longer control the motion in his tired legs. He flopped down onto the ground. He had run non-stop for 4 days and he could not breathe.
IN BARAD-DUR
Rumil watched as Morlas paced up and down the Council Chamber. He was anxious that his master was displeased as he usually took it out on the servants. This time though, he noticed that instead of the annoyed looks that usually played on the Dark Lord's face, it was replaced by one of thought. The brother of Haldir waited patiently whilst his Lord continued to pace.
Morlas abruptly came to a stop. He looked up at Rumil.
"If your brothers were captured, would you give yourself up to save them?" Morlas asked. Rumil stuttered. What kind of question was that?
"I…I suppose so my Lord. Why?" Rumil had managed to gain enough of Morlas' trust to be able to ask questions without being executed.
"Because I think I know how to get Arwen. You will send a search party out at once. Choose only the most experienced in kidnapping and make your way to Rivendell. I want you to capture Elladan and Elrohir then bring them to me. Arwen will surely give herself to me if it means the saving of her brothers lives." Rumil nodded obediently and hurried off to summon the search party. Morlas sighed a sigh of relief. Everything was going his way. Again.
IN RIVENDELL
Fily gently opened his eyes and looked above him. He was lying on a soft mattress and was surrounded by white pillars and leaves. He moaned as he tried to sit up but found the pain in his back too painful. A dark head turned round to face him. He gasped as he saw a beautiful elf smiling at him.
"Welcome little Hobbit. I trust that your sleep has strengthened you." Fily nodded slowly and once more attempted to sit up.
"Where am I?" He asked her. She turned to gaze out of the balcony, a painful look in her eyes.
"You are in Rivendell. I am Arwen Evenstar, you are safe here, no Kilyut can enter this elfland. Please tell me of the Shire. How long has it been under siege?" Arwen turned back round to face him and Fily could see the remains of tears on her cheeks.
"How long have I been here?" he asked, trying to calculate the time since he had been attacked.
"Three days."
"Then it has been in peril for seven days. I doubt anyone is left. I was very, very lucky." Arwen's face turned serious as she smiled at him.
"There is something that I must ask of you."
"What?"
"I must ask you to go to Lothlorien, there you will find Gandalf the White, The Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn. I fear that once again we must entrust our future into the hands of a Hobbit." Fily stared at her. Lothlorien? He was going to Lothlorien!
"When do I leave?" he asked, still slightly in awe that he was going to the Golden Woods.
"Tomorrow if possible, there is not much time to spare." Little did she know that at that precise moment in time, Elladan and Elrohir were battling against the finest swordskilyut in middle earth. Not very successfully may I add.
They were soon overpowered and gagged and bound before the Kilyut placed them on their horses and rode back to Mordor.
IN BARAD DUR
Morlas smiled at the two elves lying on the floor infront of him. They struggled to get out of the rope but found this impossible, especially when Morlas kept kicking them in the stomach
. "It's been a long time my friends." He motioned for Rumil to remove their gags. He was always amused at the insults that his elvish friends managed to think up when he captured them. As soon as his gag was removed, Elrohir hissed at Rumil.
"Traitor. I thought Lorien elves were true to their word." Rumil looked at Morlas for permission. Morlas nodded and Rumil kicked Elrohir in the side, scowling at the incompetence of his former friend. Elladan let out a cry of distress as his brother starting coughing up blood. He at least wasn't going to anger Morlas and Rumil anymore.
"What do you want?" he asked in the steadiest voice he could manage. Morlas smiled sweetly at him.
"Don't worry. If Arwen loves you enough then I won't hurt you at all." Elladan hung his head. He knew what was going to happen. Morlas laughed.
"My dear, dear friend. I do by all rights own her. I won her, in a fight."
"Only Aragorn had the permission to give her away."
"That he did, Elladan, that he did. It was him I killed first. You should have been there. The look on his face, he looked hurt, very hurt. Actually, it almost made me pity him. Almost."
Morlas looked up as a knock at the door resounded through the entire tower. He flinched.
"Come in and not so loud next time please." Orophin ran in clutching his chest.
"We delivered the message sire. Arwen's guards are pretty tough I'm afraid, we lost two men.
"Two?" asked Morlas. Orophin hung his head in shame.
"Yes Sire, two."
"How many children do you have Orophin?" The elf looked up surprised.
"T…Two sire." Morlas smiled.
"Just the right amount." He motioned to an elf who had been standing guard at the door. He walked up slowly. Morlas walked closer until their faces were almost touching.
"Kill them." He whispered softly. The elf backed away and ran out of the chamber leaving a sobbing Orophin behind on the floor. Elladan looked at the two elf brothers before him. //They don't do this willingly.\\ he thought to himself. //They have to do this.\\. He looked across to Elrohir and sighed softly. What had happened to make Morlas cause this much pain. //I doubt even he knows.\\ the thought comforted him a little.
IN LOTHLORIEN
Fily cautiously stepped between the tall mallorn trees. He didn't want the elves to think that he was a Kilyut and shoot him. The hobbit let out a cry as strong hands grabbed him from behind.
"Hush little one, I do not mean to hurt you." Fily found himself being carried towards a platform, high in the trees. He could see glowing figures standing in a circle. They looked up as he neared them. The lady smiled at him and stepped forward.
"Thankyou Haldir." She dismissed the elf and turned again back to Fily.
"Welcome little one." She introduced the others that stood behind her. "I am the lady Galadriel. 'Tis a shame that you come here under these circumstances."
"What must I do?" he asked. Galadriel smiled. The way he said that reminded him of Frodo who had said the same phrase not one year before.
"You must go on a journey into the deep south, to Mordor. There lies the body of the great Frodo. You must find this. On his body, there will be a glass vial which contains the light of Eärendil. Take this and journey right into the heart of Mordor…"
Before Galadriel could finish what she was saying, an old man burst in with two hobbits.
"Gandalf! You have found them? Good. Meriadoc, Pippin, I once again welcome you to Lothlorien. But these times are far graver than those when you were last with us." Galadriel smiled.
"Galadriel." Gandalf said as he bowed down low. "I bring with me, not only the two hobbits. But behold… the light of Eärendil!" and from his pocket he presented the small glass phial. It still shone as if starlight itself had been contained within it. Fily gasped. He had never seen anything so beautiful!
"That is good tidings indeed." Galadriel smiled. She turned back to Fily. "That makes your journey less perilous. You will not need to journey through the dead marshes, but take a more direct route. You will leave in the morning with a party of four others if they wish to accompany you. Merry, Pippin, Gandalf and Haldir, do you wish to help Fily?"
"I do." They all chorused together.
"Then you must rest." She replied.
IN BARAD DUR
Morlas looked longingly out of the window. Arwen and her small army of guards and archers were on their way to his castle and he was very excited. He would see his true love for the first time since he had forlornly parted with her at Rivendell so many years ago. He hoped that she would fight, it would be fun to torture her brothers and see the agonizing look on her face as she gave her life to him.
IN LOTHLORIEN
Fily couldn't sleep. He had tried for hours on end, but the peaceful wave of sleep would not wash over him. He felt like there was something that he had forgotten. Something important. Suddenly, he heard a soft swishing of robes outside of his tent, and he went to investigate. A tall figure was gracefully walking amongst the trees. He felt a gentle curiosity pull at him. He followed this mysterious stranger down some stairs and to a clearing which contained some sort of ornate bowl.
When the figure had reached the other side of the bowl, it stopped and turned. Fily realised that it was in fact the Lady Galadriel.
"Frodo once looked into this mirror Fily. Mystical things happened, perhaps we can once again change history for the better." Fily did not say anything but slowly walked over to join her.
"I do not know how to." He said quietly.
"Knowledge is not a necessity my friend, only love and hope are needed." She filled her jug with the water from the stream and poured it into the bowl.
One simple word escaped her lips.
"Believe"
Fily stepped up onto the platform and gazed down into the water.
Fily gasped out loud at what he saw. It had appeared to be a simple mirror, but what the mirror showed could not possibly be what was standing behind him. A tall man stood before him, a man with a green elf stone held in his palm, and a long sword at his side. As quickly as the image had appeared, the picture vanished. He felt a tug at his neck and pulled the light of Eärendil from beneath his shirt. He did not seem to see anything but the white light shining before his eyes. He started chanting words that he had never heard before.
'Amon I el, Mornië Nimrodel.'
The light engulfed the small clearing, and when the night returned, the body of a man lay on the ground. Fily walked nearer to take a closer look. He gasped as he recognised the face of the person. It was the man from the image.
Gandalf, Haldir and other elves rushed into the clearing.
"What happened?" He exclaimed. "We saw a light, is anybody hurt?" Galadriel shook her head. The man on the ground slowly sat up. He looked around him in confusion.
"Why am I here?" he asked, his voice slightly shaky.
Gandalf stared at him.
"Aragorn?" he asked, "I thought you were dead!" Galadriel silenced them all with a raised hand.
"He was. There is no time to explain this. Aragorn, you must go to Barad Dur. You are now the only one who can stop Legolas."
Aragorn frowned.
"Why? What has he done?"
"He has become the Dark Lord." Said Fily quietly. Gandalf nodded.
"You must go now. Fily, hand him the star of Eärendil." Fily did so.
"What will I need this for?" Aragorn asked Gandalf. Galadriel smiled.
"Light must overcome dark." Aragorn looked worried.
"I can't kill him." He said. Gandalf looked at him gravely.
"Remember when you fight, you're not looking at your friend, you're looking at the thing that killed him."
IN BARAD-DUR
As the orc was dragged across the red floor, he squirmed against his captor. He realised that it was blood, the blood of men, orcs, wizards, elves, goblins, and other creatures of Middle Earth. The elf that was holding him looked down nervously. Inside the orc smiled. So the new Lord of Barad Dur did not have willing slaves. At least, ones that were only willing to do the deeds so that they too were not tortured.
He was pulled hastily to his feet and a knock resounded through the wooden door; it then opened to reveal the throne room. The stone flagged floors were slippery but glistened with the light that any Elf, man or dwarf would have known to be Mithril. At the far end was the ancient throne seat of Sauron, now replaced by a golden seat carved with the images of death and torment that the orcs of Mordor had once relished in. on the throne sat the elf. The most feared creature in the history of all those who still lived- King Morlas. He wore robes of scarlet and black, his coal-black hair falling abruptly around his shoulders and framed his gracious face.
The only things that hinted to his evil heart were his eyes. They were a deep red and when one looked into them, the looked forever; for these eyes had no end to them. They went on and on, drowning people in vortexes of fear. On either side behind him, hung the decaying corpses of Elrond and Aragorn. (He had returned to collect this as a trophy of his new powers.)
As the orc cowered before him, Morlas smiled and the orc felt a sharp pain in the back of his head. He promptly fell to the ground unconscious.
Later, Morlas withdrew from the torture chamber. He wiped the foul blood from his pale hands and felt a sigh of relief escape from within him. He now had the knowledge he needed. Arwen was forming an army in Rivendell and in a fortnight would be setting out towards his tower. //Let her come, I have not had many visitors.\\ Morlas sharply stopped his thoughts from the path into which they always strayed; torture, pain, information, allies. Instead, he called upon himself to remember the reason that he had killed his former best friend.
"Only, you question my loyalty, when I'm trying not to make you feel useless, and you have taken the most beautiful of elf maidens, when you don't even deserve her." replied Legolas.
"I am only trying to help, and for your information, Arwen loves me, I love her, and I am not trying to take her away from the elves, anyway, why are you so worried? Or are you trying to tell me that you love her too?" Aragorn could feel his temper increase rapidly.
"Yes" said Legolas boldly. "I do love her, I do not think that you love, or deserve her, and I am prepared to risk everything I own for her."
"Really?"
"Yes, really."
"Alright, I Aragorn son of Arathorn challenge you to a fight, the winner takes Arwen."
"Fine. I Legolas son of Thranduil accept your challenge. We fight to the death."
Morlas frowned and his face began to form a pout. He turned towards his servant, an elf named Rumil.
"I won the fight. She's mine!" He began storming down the hallway. The elf ran to catch up with him.
"Who's yours sire?" he had a puzzled expression on his face. Morlas turned round smiling as he had once before. This time, his expression was calm and soft, the blazing in his eyes was gone for the moment.
"Arwen." The elf looked shocked. Morlas placed a hand upon his shoulder.
"Do not fear, I am not going to hurt her." He then turned and sauntered out into his city that now contained many, many of his own breed, the Kilyut. He had created this race using his powers and the powers of the ring. They were fair and immortal like the elves but they had the power and strength of the Istari and the evil hearts of the orcs and Uruk Hai. They were the greatest armies to ever walk Middle-Earth.
IN HOBBITON
Night drew near in the Shire as the clouds surrounded the sunset. Fily was walking through the fields of Hobbiton, mindlessly gazing at the beautiful land that surrounded him. The hobbits had once again escaped the evils that shadowed the outside world although there were some that had left for the hills of Ered Luin as they suspected that their time as a free people was drawing to an end. Fily looked hungrily up at the stars. Everybody had heard the tales of Bilbo and Frodo, possibly the greatest adventures ever had. Fily believed that Hobbits were the right creatures for adventures, as had been proven in the past, he wanted one of his very own. He longed to meet the elves and men and often wandered up to the boundaries of the Shire to peer into the world beyond. He had looked at the maps Bilbo had made and knew all of the forests and mountains, he was confident that he could be a great ranger like Aragorn.
He sighed as he though about how utterly dull his life was. He slowly ambled up the hill to his home, he was only 23 and his mother had a nasty habit of locking the door when he was still out in the fields. Nights in Hobbiton had gotten colder in the last age and he did not particularly want to be left outside, even if the stars were shining. He smiled up at them and saw Eärendil shining brightly, showing the future.
Fily lay silently in his bed, sleeping softly whilst outside shadows moved and glided across every blade of grass, every flower, every tree, every star. However, one of these shadows was not just a shadow. It was in fact a group of Kilyut, moving like noiseless whispers across the houses. Nobody heard the muffled cries of the slaughtered Hobbits as they were murdered in their sleep.
Fily stifled a yawn as he woke. The young hobbit slowly opened his eyes and stared in shock at the fair face that stood over him. He swiftly rolled over as a silver blade struck the spot where he had lay. The Kilyut hissed with rage. Fily was scared, he had heard that the Kilyut were the best fighters ever born. He was certain that he was going to die. He flung himself towards the door and hurriedly stood up as his attacker lunged at him. In his panic, Fily reached out for something to defend himself with. His hand clutched at something small and he was about to throw it down again when he realised that it was a box of matches. Running out into the hall, he drew a match from the box and lit it. As his pursuer glided around the door, Fily tossed the small flame in his direction and watched as it set fire to the Kilyut's hair. He shrieked and tried to tear it out but to no avail, the flames soon engulfed his entire body.
Fily picked up his coat and the packet of biscuits still lying on the table and ran. He ran, propelled by his fear, down the hill and towards Bree. When he reached Bree he carried on running past it and did not stop until the biscuits had run out and he could no longer control the motion in his tired legs. He flopped down onto the ground. He had run non-stop for 4 days and he could not breathe.
IN BARAD-DUR
Rumil watched as Morlas paced up and down the Council Chamber. He was anxious that his master was displeased as he usually took it out on the servants. This time though, he noticed that instead of the annoyed looks that usually played on the Dark Lord's face, it was replaced by one of thought. The brother of Haldir waited patiently whilst his Lord continued to pace.
Morlas abruptly came to a stop. He looked up at Rumil.
"If your brothers were captured, would you give yourself up to save them?" Morlas asked. Rumil stuttered. What kind of question was that?
"I…I suppose so my Lord. Why?" Rumil had managed to gain enough of Morlas' trust to be able to ask questions without being executed.
"Because I think I know how to get Arwen. You will send a search party out at once. Choose only the most experienced in kidnapping and make your way to Rivendell. I want you to capture Elladan and Elrohir then bring them to me. Arwen will surely give herself to me if it means the saving of her brothers lives." Rumil nodded obediently and hurried off to summon the search party. Morlas sighed a sigh of relief. Everything was going his way. Again.
IN RIVENDELL
Fily gently opened his eyes and looked above him. He was lying on a soft mattress and was surrounded by white pillars and leaves. He moaned as he tried to sit up but found the pain in his back too painful. A dark head turned round to face him. He gasped as he saw a beautiful elf smiling at him.
"Welcome little Hobbit. I trust that your sleep has strengthened you." Fily nodded slowly and once more attempted to sit up.
"Where am I?" He asked her. She turned to gaze out of the balcony, a painful look in her eyes.
"You are in Rivendell. I am Arwen Evenstar, you are safe here, no Kilyut can enter this elfland. Please tell me of the Shire. How long has it been under siege?" Arwen turned back round to face him and Fily could see the remains of tears on her cheeks.
"How long have I been here?" he asked, trying to calculate the time since he had been attacked.
"Three days."
"Then it has been in peril for seven days. I doubt anyone is left. I was very, very lucky." Arwen's face turned serious as she smiled at him.
"There is something that I must ask of you."
"What?"
"I must ask you to go to Lothlorien, there you will find Gandalf the White, The Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn. I fear that once again we must entrust our future into the hands of a Hobbit." Fily stared at her. Lothlorien? He was going to Lothlorien!
"When do I leave?" he asked, still slightly in awe that he was going to the Golden Woods.
"Tomorrow if possible, there is not much time to spare." Little did she know that at that precise moment in time, Elladan and Elrohir were battling against the finest swordskilyut in middle earth. Not very successfully may I add.
They were soon overpowered and gagged and bound before the Kilyut placed them on their horses and rode back to Mordor.
IN BARAD DUR
Morlas smiled at the two elves lying on the floor infront of him. They struggled to get out of the rope but found this impossible, especially when Morlas kept kicking them in the stomach
. "It's been a long time my friends." He motioned for Rumil to remove their gags. He was always amused at the insults that his elvish friends managed to think up when he captured them. As soon as his gag was removed, Elrohir hissed at Rumil.
"Traitor. I thought Lorien elves were true to their word." Rumil looked at Morlas for permission. Morlas nodded and Rumil kicked Elrohir in the side, scowling at the incompetence of his former friend. Elladan let out a cry of distress as his brother starting coughing up blood. He at least wasn't going to anger Morlas and Rumil anymore.
"What do you want?" he asked in the steadiest voice he could manage. Morlas smiled sweetly at him.
"Don't worry. If Arwen loves you enough then I won't hurt you at all." Elladan hung his head. He knew what was going to happen. Morlas laughed.
"My dear, dear friend. I do by all rights own her. I won her, in a fight."
"Only Aragorn had the permission to give her away."
"That he did, Elladan, that he did. It was him I killed first. You should have been there. The look on his face, he looked hurt, very hurt. Actually, it almost made me pity him. Almost."
Morlas looked up as a knock at the door resounded through the entire tower. He flinched.
"Come in and not so loud next time please." Orophin ran in clutching his chest.
"We delivered the message sire. Arwen's guards are pretty tough I'm afraid, we lost two men.
"Two?" asked Morlas. Orophin hung his head in shame.
"Yes Sire, two."
"How many children do you have Orophin?" The elf looked up surprised.
"T…Two sire." Morlas smiled.
"Just the right amount." He motioned to an elf who had been standing guard at the door. He walked up slowly. Morlas walked closer until their faces were almost touching.
"Kill them." He whispered softly. The elf backed away and ran out of the chamber leaving a sobbing Orophin behind on the floor. Elladan looked at the two elf brothers before him. //They don't do this willingly.\\ he thought to himself. //They have to do this.\\. He looked across to Elrohir and sighed softly. What had happened to make Morlas cause this much pain. //I doubt even he knows.\\ the thought comforted him a little.
IN LOTHLORIEN
Fily cautiously stepped between the tall mallorn trees. He didn't want the elves to think that he was a Kilyut and shoot him. The hobbit let out a cry as strong hands grabbed him from behind.
"Hush little one, I do not mean to hurt you." Fily found himself being carried towards a platform, high in the trees. He could see glowing figures standing in a circle. They looked up as he neared them. The lady smiled at him and stepped forward.
"Thankyou Haldir." She dismissed the elf and turned again back to Fily.
"Welcome little one." She introduced the others that stood behind her. "I am the lady Galadriel. 'Tis a shame that you come here under these circumstances."
"What must I do?" he asked. Galadriel smiled. The way he said that reminded him of Frodo who had said the same phrase not one year before.
"You must go on a journey into the deep south, to Mordor. There lies the body of the great Frodo. You must find this. On his body, there will be a glass vial which contains the light of Eärendil. Take this and journey right into the heart of Mordor…"
Before Galadriel could finish what she was saying, an old man burst in with two hobbits.
"Gandalf! You have found them? Good. Meriadoc, Pippin, I once again welcome you to Lothlorien. But these times are far graver than those when you were last with us." Galadriel smiled.
"Galadriel." Gandalf said as he bowed down low. "I bring with me, not only the two hobbits. But behold… the light of Eärendil!" and from his pocket he presented the small glass phial. It still shone as if starlight itself had been contained within it. Fily gasped. He had never seen anything so beautiful!
"That is good tidings indeed." Galadriel smiled. She turned back to Fily. "That makes your journey less perilous. You will not need to journey through the dead marshes, but take a more direct route. You will leave in the morning with a party of four others if they wish to accompany you. Merry, Pippin, Gandalf and Haldir, do you wish to help Fily?"
"I do." They all chorused together.
"Then you must rest." She replied.
IN BARAD DUR
Morlas looked longingly out of the window. Arwen and her small army of guards and archers were on their way to his castle and he was very excited. He would see his true love for the first time since he had forlornly parted with her at Rivendell so many years ago. He hoped that she would fight, it would be fun to torture her brothers and see the agonizing look on her face as she gave her life to him.
IN LOTHLORIEN
Fily couldn't sleep. He had tried for hours on end, but the peaceful wave of sleep would not wash over him. He felt like there was something that he had forgotten. Something important. Suddenly, he heard a soft swishing of robes outside of his tent, and he went to investigate. A tall figure was gracefully walking amongst the trees. He felt a gentle curiosity pull at him. He followed this mysterious stranger down some stairs and to a clearing which contained some sort of ornate bowl.
When the figure had reached the other side of the bowl, it stopped and turned. Fily realised that it was in fact the Lady Galadriel.
"Frodo once looked into this mirror Fily. Mystical things happened, perhaps we can once again change history for the better." Fily did not say anything but slowly walked over to join her.
"I do not know how to." He said quietly.
"Knowledge is not a necessity my friend, only love and hope are needed." She filled her jug with the water from the stream and poured it into the bowl.
One simple word escaped her lips.
"Believe"
Fily stepped up onto the platform and gazed down into the water.
Fily gasped out loud at what he saw. It had appeared to be a simple mirror, but what the mirror showed could not possibly be what was standing behind him. A tall man stood before him, a man with a green elf stone held in his palm, and a long sword at his side. As quickly as the image had appeared, the picture vanished. He felt a tug at his neck and pulled the light of Eärendil from beneath his shirt. He did not seem to see anything but the white light shining before his eyes. He started chanting words that he had never heard before.
'Amon I el, Mornië Nimrodel.'
The light engulfed the small clearing, and when the night returned, the body of a man lay on the ground. Fily walked nearer to take a closer look. He gasped as he recognised the face of the person. It was the man from the image.
Gandalf, Haldir and other elves rushed into the clearing.
"What happened?" He exclaimed. "We saw a light, is anybody hurt?" Galadriel shook her head. The man on the ground slowly sat up. He looked around him in confusion.
"Why am I here?" he asked, his voice slightly shaky.
Gandalf stared at him.
"Aragorn?" he asked, "I thought you were dead!" Galadriel silenced them all with a raised hand.
"He was. There is no time to explain this. Aragorn, you must go to Barad Dur. You are now the only one who can stop Legolas."
Aragorn frowned.
"Why? What has he done?"
"He has become the Dark Lord." Said Fily quietly. Gandalf nodded.
"You must go now. Fily, hand him the star of Eärendil." Fily did so.
"What will I need this for?" Aragorn asked Gandalf. Galadriel smiled.
"Light must overcome dark." Aragorn looked worried.
"I can't kill him." He said. Gandalf looked at him gravely.
"Remember when you fight, you're not looking at your friend, you're looking at the thing that killed him."