Disclaimer: I don't own anybody in this story except for Adariel and minor
character associated with her, i.e. Maids and other people like that…….. I
also made up the King and Lakewood.
Echoes of the Narbeleth
Spirit Star
Chapter 10: In which the Road goes ever on
Slowly, like a wave that swells from the depths of the sea, birdsong chimed eerily making the forest echo with strange, hollow melody. And then the creatures from on the ground joined in, their deeper voices shadowing the twinkling of the birds. The wind picked up. The trees moaned and the leaves made whispering whistles that flowed over the top of the song. The three birds stepped forward, each standing next to one of the arrow wounds.
Gimli made a move as if to shoo the off, scowling, but Legolas reached out an arm to stop him, not taking his eyes of the girl. "But they're going to peck the wo –" spluttered Gimli. This time it was Aragorn who shushed him. The birds had spread their wings and lifted their heads to the sky, their beaks open in song. Then they flew upwards, swirling up toward the light of the setting sun that reached into the woods as beams.
It looked as if they were in a dance at first, with the leaves rustling about them as the wind from their wings blew them slightly off course as they fell. Higher and higher they flew, with all the creatures' voices following them until they flew together again, the color of their feathers mingling with each other under the cover of the reddening sky. Then the song swelled up like the breaking of a wave, and then only the echoes of the haunting voices existed in the minds of all.
The three birds fell back on their wings and crumbled toward the ground in a graceful arc, their motions slowed under the dancing rays of the fading light. They hit the ground as one, each with its wings folded over its chest, tail feathers spread like a fan. There was silence now, and the echoes of the song faded away with the darkening sky. One by one, the land creatures began to turn, their heads bowed. The deer walked with their proud antlers draped on the ground, and the squirrels with their tails dragging until at last only the birds remained silently in the trees. And they too, left with the rising of the first star of the evening, each swooping lower than they usually flew back to the comforts of their nest.
And Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn stood alone over the two forms lying on the floor and the three bodies next to them. Boromir stirred, and they snapped out of their daze and went to his side.
"Am I in the Halls of the Dead?" Boromir murmured, for his vision had not yet cleared, and he saw only shadows with the light of the darkening sky behind them so that they looked like they were surrounded by it and were a part of it.
"No," said Aragorn, leaning over him and nimbly checking him over for additional wounds; he found none. "And may you wait long before you fly to join their number."
"How came this to be?" Boromir asked, still leaning against the tree, "The last thing that I remember…" he fell silent, as if he did not want to voice the last thing he remembered. Aragorn answered instead for him, "You were on the brink of death, that even the wisest could bring you out of. Save one. The one who lies beside you now," and he looked up toward Legolas who was cradling the girl in his arms. She looked so familiar.
Boromir turned his head and saw the girl held in the Elf's arms. And suddenly he knew who she was. "Adariel Arwen's sister," he murmured, and then fell unconscious once again, leaving the surprised stares of Gimli, Legolas and Aragorn trailing behind him.
"Of course!" cried Gimli, his beard shaking with his jaws. "It is Evenstar's sister!"
"Arwen's sister? Adariel?" said Aragorn, surprised, glad and grim at the same time. He knew that if anything happened to her sister, Arwen would be desolate. Which meant, he concluded, that they had to protect Adariel at all times. "Is she alright?" he asked Legolas.
"She's asleep," he said hardly containing the wonder in his voice, "She's asleep when she ought to have passed beyond the reigns of mortality,"
"What of her wounds?" said Aragorn sharply, although he suspected that somehow they were gone already. And he turned out to be right. "They're…not there any more," said Legolas as he skillfully checked her shoulder, stomach and chest around where the blood stains were, hardly hiding a blush at where his fingers were brushing. And he wondered in his mind how important she must be that the creatures of the forest themselves would sacrifice their lives for her.
"We must move on soon," Aragorn replied, turning for a minute to gaze into the distance. "Pippin and Merry have been taken by the enemy, and when the moon rises, these woods will be alive with Orcs and other foul creatures that I dare not mention." He began to look worried. "We have two wounded people and we are on foot,"
Here, Boromir protested that he could stand, and to show them all, he stood. They were amazed. "You've come back from the path of Death and already you can walk!" exclaimed Gimli, head shaking. "Witch work," he muttered darkly, eyeing Adariel who was still asleep cradled in Legolas's arms.
Boromir tested himself, first jumping up and down, and then swinging his arms about a little. He wasn't aware of where he was going, and his arm knocked against the side of the tree. "Ah!" He exclaimed, holding the bumped wrist in his other hand. In Legolas's arms, Adariel stirred. Legolas looked down, as did Aragorn and Gimli.
"She's waking," said Gimli unnecessarily.
Adariel stirred, and a small moan escaped her lips, but she kept her eyes shut. She was confused, and slightly annoyed. "Maybe not slightly," she admitted, "Very annoyed." The golden haze that had surrounded her had made her feel light headed and sleepy. It had been so warm a minute ago. Everything was perfect. And the best thing was, she felt so……………free. Something she'd never truly felt before. And then suddenly the light had started dimming. And something she'd never felt before came over her: a feeling of heartbreak. She would never want to go through that again. The light was like a dream, dancing just out of her reach. It got darker, and colder. And suddenly, she had felt a sharp pain in her wrist, like it had hit something hard. Her consciousness got lighter and lighter until at last, Adariel felt herself waking up and heard a voice say "She's waking,"
Now, her eyelids fluttered open as she shook the last remnants of deep sleep away from her. And the first thing she saw was a worried face leaning over her. And it belonged to an Elf. A male Elf. She sat up immediately, head almost knocking against the chin of Elf.
"Where am I?" she demanded, looking from right to left, and then realized that it was a stupid question. She knew where she was. And worse still, she also knew who she was WITH. And by the looks on their faces, they knew who she was too. Her wrist throbbed slightly.
"Calm yourself, Lady Adariel. Please." Aragorn said. "You have just come back from the brink of Death."
"I have?" Adariel said, trying hard to remember what she had done before the light had overcome her. It was like there was a cloud over her memories. To distract herself, she looked down at her clothes. There were three dark red bloodstains, one on her shoulder, chest, and stomach. But strangely, they didn't hurt. The only part of her that ached was her wrist.
"You don't remember, Lady Adariel?" said the Elf, whom she had realized was Legolas the same time she realized where she was, asked.
"No," she said slowly, then immediately replaced it by a "Yes," as pictures suddenly filtered through her brain. And then she remembered quite clearly. "How is he?" she asked, feeling sure that they would know who she meant, also wanting to direct the conversation away from herself and what she had done.
"I'm fine," came a voice, getting closer, just out of her view. "And I would like to thank you. I am forever in your debt, Lady Adariel," Adariel turned and looked sharply at Boromir. "Save your breath, I know what you did,"
Boromir paled, but Adariel spoke no more on the subject; she had noticed the bodies of the three birds on the ground.
"No." she gasped, reaching down to cradle the body of one. It was Blueruff, wings outstretched as if in flight, with a wound the size of an arrowhead on his chest, blood drying. Then she looked at Redtail and Yellowfeather. They had a wound each, one on the stomach and the other on their wing joint. "One for each wound," she realized, "They saved my life and brought me out of the Golden Light." Then she felt sad and angry at the same time; sad that her friends had died, and angry that they'd brought her out of that wonderful place. And then she was upset at herself for thinking such things.
She looked up to find everybody looking at her sadly. "They performed the ritual that I used when I healed Boromir," she said accusingly. Nobody said anything. Adariel looked back down at the three sons of Whitewing, her hands closing tightly around the bodies. There was silence, and finally Aragorn spoke.
"We should move on," he said, looking around him. "It is getting dark. The moon will rise soon and we are no longer in the territory of Galadriel and Celeborn." They stirred, all of them, each getting to their feet. Adariel still had the three birds cradled in her hands. She had hardly gotten a step when she swayed and fell backward. Before she hit the ground, strong hands caught her. They all looked at her as if in a silent question.
"If the birds did the same thing to you as you did to Boromir here," Gimli said, "Then why is he up on his feet while you can't take even a step?" The dwarf ignored the look that Legolas shot him from behind Adariel.
"The birds were worn out," Adariel said as it dawned to her, "They were not in the same condition I was in when I undertook the ritual. They had been flying through the forest all day, and that is very unusual to do for such small birds. The ritual was that the healer swapped the well being of their physical self with the one that was dying. Which is why I am so weak now."
"We must hurry," Aragorn pressed, "Someone will have to carry you."
"I'll do it," volunteered Boromir "I am in debt to you, for you sacrificed your life for mine." Nobody but Gimli saw the look that Legolas gave him.
"Excuse me, Sirs," Adariel broke in coldly, "But I don't remember asking for anybody's help."
"But you can't walk!" exclaimed Gimli, "You'll slow us down. Two of our group have been captured, and if we do not start by nightfall, we will loose chance of saving them."
"I know that," snapped Adariel, "I was there! But I have my own ways of getting around. Do not worry, I will not be a burden to you,"
"And I suppose you will want me to call again, and then your horse will come back to you," said Aragorn, amused. But it was Legolas who answered this time, saying, "Do not be fooled, for Elven horses know more than that of the mortals. Surely, Elrond has told you so in your years in Rivendell."
Aragorn shrugged and looked at Adariel, but she only smirked. Suddenly, Legolas picked up the sound of gentle hooves crunching the leaves, galloping their way. He took his bow out and aimed it toward the direction the sound was coming from, but was stopped by a hand on his arm. Adariel spoke. "Calling is not necessary in this case. Put down your bow, Legolas."
He lowered it and they all looked toward the sound of the hoof beats for they could all hear them now. Starliss came out with a spring and a spray of drying leaves flowing about her. She reared when she saw that Adariel was standing, a look of relief on her face. The mare walked over to her mistress, and bent her front knees like she had done back on the path to Lothlorien. Her rider mounted, but swayed slightly again. Aragorn saw this, and said, "Someone should ride behind her.
Before Legolas could open his mouth to volunteer, Boromir appeared at the mare's side. "I'll do it!" he said, looking up at Adariel, "As I would have carried her anyway." Gimli snorted. Legolas said to Boromir, "It might be better if I ride with her. You have not the experience riding bareback."
Boromir was about to protest, but Aragorn said, "Legolas is right. If you do not mind, Lady Adariel, then Legolas will ride with you for now until you recover your strength." Boromir shot Legolas a Look. Legolas ignored it. Gimli snorted again, then softened it to a cough.
"I see that you've made my decision for me anyway," said Adariel, glancing down at the exchanged look between them. Then she turned her eyes to Legolas and felt her heart thump annoyingly, and all her previous thoughts fly into the air. 'I must be wearier than I thought,' she said to herself when she felt the blood rising to her cheeks. Legolas looked up at her, his brows furrowed in concern. "Are you alright, Lady Adariel?"
"I'm fine…thank you." Adariel said, snapping her head back a little, then turning it away to hide her red cheeks.
"You're taking the birds with you?" Gimli asked incredulously, "They are dead!"
"I know that," said Adariel coldly, "But I must give them a decent send off. They did save my life!" She looked up. "They would want their ashes sprinkled across the breeze to float up into the sky with the wind, as they were born to do. So in death they shall do so too."
"By the Halls of Moria," Gimli exclaimed shaking his head, "What has it come down to? Birds saving the lives of Elves?"
"We best be off now," said Aragorn, looking back up toward the canopy where the evening stars were becoming more and more visible. "The Orcs have gotten far already." Boromir and Gimli followed after him as he departed in a light run. Adariel leaned forward, and there was a slight wiggle on Starliss's part when Legolas hopped up behind her, his arms reaching around her for the reins, tugging on them.
Starliss wouldn't budge, tail flickering uncertainly.
She could feel Legolas's gaze behind her. "Reebennne, Niimm assii" she said to her mare, meaning that the Elf behind her was friendly, and that she gave her consent for him to ride. Starliss trotted onward behind Boromir. The road was bumpy along the forest lined with broken twigs and Adariel was careful to lean forward as not to lean on Legolas. Not a word was spoken, and Adariel felt too tired to look for signs of Orcs nearby.
Instead, she was thinking of sleep and why she'd woken up from Death so early. She remembered the pain in her wrist. Now, she held it up to the dimming light and saw that the skin hadn't broken or bruised. How strange it was to experience pain when there was no evident infliction of it, or mark that was left. In front of her, Boromir was hacking at some leaves that overgrew onto the path. It was dark, and Adariel could hear the annoyed and pained cries of her plant friends as they tried to withdraw their limbs from the road.
Boromir was not careful with his sword, and when one plant caught the blade in its vines, he pulled on it vigorously. The plant let go, and caught unawares, the blade nicked the side of his other forearm as it shot back. At the same time, Adariel felt something pierce her own forearm. Taken by surprise, she cried out.
Everybody turned back to look at her. Adariel could see Boromir holding onto his forearm where the blood was seeping out little by little. The cut was in the same place when her own arm hurt. She looked at it, but saw that the skin was unbroken, made pale in the light of the rising moon. Her thoughts were interrupted by Aragorn saying, "What ails you?"
"N-nothing," she stammered, unable to make sense of what was happening. There was a link between Boromir's cut and her own throbbing arm. It didn't take a fool to figure out that something had happened when she had used the Spirit Key. But she'd never remembered hearing about it. "Yes," her mind reasoned, "But nobody's ever survived it to tell of what would happen,"
She would have to wait and see. A suspicion was starting to rise in her mind, and in the meantime, she hoped that Boromir would not hurt himself again……for his sake, and for hers. The thinking now made her sleepy and she felt herself drifting back slightly every so often, and then jerking back forward again when she remembered that someone was behind her.
Still, they ran on in their rush to reach the Orc troop that carried out the two Hobbits. She knew that she couldn't sit like this much longer. Although she could sleep with her eyes open, it wouldn't ensure that she would know where she was going or what she was doing. The night went on, and the shadows moved with a will of their own. They moved faster, with Starliss at a canter. Adariel felt an urge to lean back again, and this time it overcame her embarrassment. So she rested her head against Legolas's shoulder and slept, opting to keep her eyes shut instead of open.
Somewhere close to her ear, she could hear the beating of a heart and the sound lulled her to sleep, with a warmth gathering about her. It was so comfortable here, and all thoughts flew out of her mind. Adariel could feel the fabric digging softly into her cheek as she turned her head slightly. Somewhere overhead, she could feel gentle breaths brush strands of her hair. She was already unconscious before she could feel the tightening of arms around her, gripping the reigns.
Legolas could see that the maiden in front of him was starting to waver. Every so often she was going to fall asleep soon, because every so often she would tip back toward him and suddenly jerk forward again. It wasn't the first time that he noticed how beautiful she was. Her hair was shining silver under the dim moonlight, and if it were unbound, it would wind t- "Stop that!" his mind shouted, "You're on a quest to save Middle Earth!"
He sat back a little, watching her sway slightly. Her name was Adariel…that sounded so familiar somehow but he couldn't place it. It was like it came up many times in a conversation he had long ago. Adariel. That name wasn't generally connected with the House of Elrond. But there was a ring to it that was familiar. Adariel so-and-so. It was definitely NOT Adariel, daughter of Elrond.
Last time he'd been to Rivendell, or any other time for that matter, he was sure that he hadn't seen her wandering in the gardens there. And Arwen or any of her brothers had brought up their 'sister' either. If she had been residing in Rivendell, then surely he would have noticed her before? She didn't look like Arwen, or bear any resemblance to Elrond. Instead, she took after her mother, Celebrian. He tried to picture how she looked before she left over the sea. A brief, wavering picture came to his mind then straight away molded itself into the face of the one sitting in front of him.
"At least that proves how much she looked like Celebrian," he thought.
Growing up the Prince of Mirkwood was getting to him. He'd always wanted freedom to do the things that HE wanted to do, and not what everybody ELSE wanted him to do. He couldn't do anything without that title hanging over his shoulder like a big cloud, which was why he was so glad to get away from it all when he was sent as a messenger for his father to the Council of Elrond in Rivendell. And then he had gotten himself tangled in the Quest for the Ring…even better! That would mean that he could finally get away from it all. His friends had always said that he had more of a heart for adventuring than romance.
Which was fine because back in Mirkwood, all the young Elven maidens would smile at him when he walked past, and the occasional one followed him around. They took everything he said to be some invitation to continue on what they were doing. Which he found slightly annoying. Forget slightly…it was more like EXTREMELY.
"Even if I did come to love a maiden," he thought to himself, "How would I tell that she loved me for myself and not just my title?"
He was in the middle of that thought when he felt a soft pressure on his shoulder and he saw that Lady Adariel had finally yielded to sleep. He smiled a little, glad for the darkness for once. She turned her head slightly so that her cheek touched the fabric of his tunic, and he noted that she kept her eyes closed when she slept. His breathing quickened lightly and he hoped she wouldn't notice. It was like looking at a star, with moonlight pouring over her face, and the shadows of leaves dancing across her skin. He tightened his hold on the reins.
This girl fascinated him. He thought again of the importance of her, so much so that the animals of the forest were willing to give their lives to her. And she talked to trees and animals. That was a rare thing to find. All Elves had skill to listen to the whisperings of trees and animals, but few could talk to them, and ask them questions. He searched his mind for the last name that he knew with this skill. None came up.
And it startled him that she rode all the way through Moria after them. No Elf that he knew would willingly go through the tunnels of the Dwarves, especially when they were by themselves. Even Gandalf was reluctant to lead them into Moria. He noticed that she carried a bow, although her quiver was empty. He thought then of the messages that she had sent to them, then an amused thought came to him.
So it was Lady Adariel in the tree outside of Moria. He vaguely remembered that he had heard something up in the high branches of the tree, but passed it off for a bird or a squirrel when the gates of the Dwarf Halls had opened. The one sitting in front of him was indeed, full of surprises.
Boromir jogged on, annoyed. His original intent WAS to ride with the Lady Adariel out of gratitude, although he suspected that his inner mind really wanted to ask her what exactly she saw, from wherever she was hiding. There was no doubt in his mind that she was their 'Friend' who had followed them from Moria. He had to admit that he was pretty surprised that 'it' turned out to be a 'she'.
Still, his mind relayed his last conversation with Frodo and his attempt at the Ring. He glanced behind at Adariel again and saw that she was resting against the Elf's shoulder. Boromir gritted his teeth. With that Elf everywhere, he would never get close enough to ask her about what she saw. Angered, he swung his arm out aimlessly in rage. Unfortunately, it hit a tree trunk, and there was a throbbing in his hand. His curse shot out through the night. Aragorn turned and motioned him to be silent. Gimli didn't even bother turning, his ax over his shoulder, stumbling on.
Adariel was just settling into Deep Sleep when a pain in her hand startled her out of it. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked down at her hand. It was fine, except for the throbbing. Immediately, she looked toward Boromir. His hand was red, exactly where hers hurt. Her suspicion grew. Looking up at the sky, she feigned sleep again, and the silence left her to her thinking.
So she'd swapped physical spirits with Boromir, and remained alive. That meant that a part of her was in Boromir, and that they were physically connected. If he hurt, she hurt. Luckily for herself, the wound did not appear on her as well. Only the pain. "That's good," her mind whispered sarcastically, "If he gets killed, you'll stay alive to experience the pain."
And that was the trouble. What if he was mortally wounded when she was in the middle of a battle? Wouldn't that be like leaving herself open for a sword or arrow to pierce her? Her brain grumbled. It was too late for this kind of thing, and the night grew darker. The forest's shadows both frightened her and comforted her. Most of the animals were asleep, as were the trees. She noted that there were no owls in this part of the forest.
They were still cantering along the uneven ground, sometimes slowing when they grew tired. The bumpy path lulled her to sleep again, resting back against Legolas's shoulder. Thoughts flew back in her dreams to Lakewood and Rivendell, and divided loyalties made her toss about in her sleep, her breathing coming out rugged.
Her 'father', King of Lakewood, and her real father, Elrond of Rivendell. She had heard a fair many things about Elrond, although none of them came from her adopted father. He was noble amongst both Men and Elves as he was, after all, Elrond Half-Elven. But what about her 'father', King of Lakewood? Hadn't he been the only father she had ever known? Would it be right to abandon him, even though she dreaded all the thing he had done to her like locking her inside for most of her life? And what a long life it was! The thinking was driving her insane, she knew it.
Sometime in the night, she thought she heard a voice whisper in her ear, "Shhh, sleep in peace without troubled dreams." And so she did sleep evenly, untroubled, for the rest of the night until the call of the birds brought her back into the world of Mortals and the Halls of Consciousness. The road went ever on, unwavering.
1.1 End of Chapter 10
Reviews please! NO FLAMES but constructive criticism is very welcome! –Spirit Star
Echoes of the Narbeleth
Spirit Star
Chapter 10: In which the Road goes ever on
Slowly, like a wave that swells from the depths of the sea, birdsong chimed eerily making the forest echo with strange, hollow melody. And then the creatures from on the ground joined in, their deeper voices shadowing the twinkling of the birds. The wind picked up. The trees moaned and the leaves made whispering whistles that flowed over the top of the song. The three birds stepped forward, each standing next to one of the arrow wounds.
Gimli made a move as if to shoo the off, scowling, but Legolas reached out an arm to stop him, not taking his eyes of the girl. "But they're going to peck the wo –" spluttered Gimli. This time it was Aragorn who shushed him. The birds had spread their wings and lifted their heads to the sky, their beaks open in song. Then they flew upwards, swirling up toward the light of the setting sun that reached into the woods as beams.
It looked as if they were in a dance at first, with the leaves rustling about them as the wind from their wings blew them slightly off course as they fell. Higher and higher they flew, with all the creatures' voices following them until they flew together again, the color of their feathers mingling with each other under the cover of the reddening sky. Then the song swelled up like the breaking of a wave, and then only the echoes of the haunting voices existed in the minds of all.
The three birds fell back on their wings and crumbled toward the ground in a graceful arc, their motions slowed under the dancing rays of the fading light. They hit the ground as one, each with its wings folded over its chest, tail feathers spread like a fan. There was silence now, and the echoes of the song faded away with the darkening sky. One by one, the land creatures began to turn, their heads bowed. The deer walked with their proud antlers draped on the ground, and the squirrels with their tails dragging until at last only the birds remained silently in the trees. And they too, left with the rising of the first star of the evening, each swooping lower than they usually flew back to the comforts of their nest.
And Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn stood alone over the two forms lying on the floor and the three bodies next to them. Boromir stirred, and they snapped out of their daze and went to his side.
"Am I in the Halls of the Dead?" Boromir murmured, for his vision had not yet cleared, and he saw only shadows with the light of the darkening sky behind them so that they looked like they were surrounded by it and were a part of it.
"No," said Aragorn, leaning over him and nimbly checking him over for additional wounds; he found none. "And may you wait long before you fly to join their number."
"How came this to be?" Boromir asked, still leaning against the tree, "The last thing that I remember…" he fell silent, as if he did not want to voice the last thing he remembered. Aragorn answered instead for him, "You were on the brink of death, that even the wisest could bring you out of. Save one. The one who lies beside you now," and he looked up toward Legolas who was cradling the girl in his arms. She looked so familiar.
Boromir turned his head and saw the girl held in the Elf's arms. And suddenly he knew who she was. "Adariel Arwen's sister," he murmured, and then fell unconscious once again, leaving the surprised stares of Gimli, Legolas and Aragorn trailing behind him.
"Of course!" cried Gimli, his beard shaking with his jaws. "It is Evenstar's sister!"
"Arwen's sister? Adariel?" said Aragorn, surprised, glad and grim at the same time. He knew that if anything happened to her sister, Arwen would be desolate. Which meant, he concluded, that they had to protect Adariel at all times. "Is she alright?" he asked Legolas.
"She's asleep," he said hardly containing the wonder in his voice, "She's asleep when she ought to have passed beyond the reigns of mortality,"
"What of her wounds?" said Aragorn sharply, although he suspected that somehow they were gone already. And he turned out to be right. "They're…not there any more," said Legolas as he skillfully checked her shoulder, stomach and chest around where the blood stains were, hardly hiding a blush at where his fingers were brushing. And he wondered in his mind how important she must be that the creatures of the forest themselves would sacrifice their lives for her.
"We must move on soon," Aragorn replied, turning for a minute to gaze into the distance. "Pippin and Merry have been taken by the enemy, and when the moon rises, these woods will be alive with Orcs and other foul creatures that I dare not mention." He began to look worried. "We have two wounded people and we are on foot,"
Here, Boromir protested that he could stand, and to show them all, he stood. They were amazed. "You've come back from the path of Death and already you can walk!" exclaimed Gimli, head shaking. "Witch work," he muttered darkly, eyeing Adariel who was still asleep cradled in Legolas's arms.
Boromir tested himself, first jumping up and down, and then swinging his arms about a little. He wasn't aware of where he was going, and his arm knocked against the side of the tree. "Ah!" He exclaimed, holding the bumped wrist in his other hand. In Legolas's arms, Adariel stirred. Legolas looked down, as did Aragorn and Gimli.
"She's waking," said Gimli unnecessarily.
Adariel stirred, and a small moan escaped her lips, but she kept her eyes shut. She was confused, and slightly annoyed. "Maybe not slightly," she admitted, "Very annoyed." The golden haze that had surrounded her had made her feel light headed and sleepy. It had been so warm a minute ago. Everything was perfect. And the best thing was, she felt so……………free. Something she'd never truly felt before. And then suddenly the light had started dimming. And something she'd never felt before came over her: a feeling of heartbreak. She would never want to go through that again. The light was like a dream, dancing just out of her reach. It got darker, and colder. And suddenly, she had felt a sharp pain in her wrist, like it had hit something hard. Her consciousness got lighter and lighter until at last, Adariel felt herself waking up and heard a voice say "She's waking,"
Now, her eyelids fluttered open as she shook the last remnants of deep sleep away from her. And the first thing she saw was a worried face leaning over her. And it belonged to an Elf. A male Elf. She sat up immediately, head almost knocking against the chin of Elf.
"Where am I?" she demanded, looking from right to left, and then realized that it was a stupid question. She knew where she was. And worse still, she also knew who she was WITH. And by the looks on their faces, they knew who she was too. Her wrist throbbed slightly.
"Calm yourself, Lady Adariel. Please." Aragorn said. "You have just come back from the brink of Death."
"I have?" Adariel said, trying hard to remember what she had done before the light had overcome her. It was like there was a cloud over her memories. To distract herself, she looked down at her clothes. There were three dark red bloodstains, one on her shoulder, chest, and stomach. But strangely, they didn't hurt. The only part of her that ached was her wrist.
"You don't remember, Lady Adariel?" said the Elf, whom she had realized was Legolas the same time she realized where she was, asked.
"No," she said slowly, then immediately replaced it by a "Yes," as pictures suddenly filtered through her brain. And then she remembered quite clearly. "How is he?" she asked, feeling sure that they would know who she meant, also wanting to direct the conversation away from herself and what she had done.
"I'm fine," came a voice, getting closer, just out of her view. "And I would like to thank you. I am forever in your debt, Lady Adariel," Adariel turned and looked sharply at Boromir. "Save your breath, I know what you did,"
Boromir paled, but Adariel spoke no more on the subject; she had noticed the bodies of the three birds on the ground.
"No." she gasped, reaching down to cradle the body of one. It was Blueruff, wings outstretched as if in flight, with a wound the size of an arrowhead on his chest, blood drying. Then she looked at Redtail and Yellowfeather. They had a wound each, one on the stomach and the other on their wing joint. "One for each wound," she realized, "They saved my life and brought me out of the Golden Light." Then she felt sad and angry at the same time; sad that her friends had died, and angry that they'd brought her out of that wonderful place. And then she was upset at herself for thinking such things.
She looked up to find everybody looking at her sadly. "They performed the ritual that I used when I healed Boromir," she said accusingly. Nobody said anything. Adariel looked back down at the three sons of Whitewing, her hands closing tightly around the bodies. There was silence, and finally Aragorn spoke.
"We should move on," he said, looking around him. "It is getting dark. The moon will rise soon and we are no longer in the territory of Galadriel and Celeborn." They stirred, all of them, each getting to their feet. Adariel still had the three birds cradled in her hands. She had hardly gotten a step when she swayed and fell backward. Before she hit the ground, strong hands caught her. They all looked at her as if in a silent question.
"If the birds did the same thing to you as you did to Boromir here," Gimli said, "Then why is he up on his feet while you can't take even a step?" The dwarf ignored the look that Legolas shot him from behind Adariel.
"The birds were worn out," Adariel said as it dawned to her, "They were not in the same condition I was in when I undertook the ritual. They had been flying through the forest all day, and that is very unusual to do for such small birds. The ritual was that the healer swapped the well being of their physical self with the one that was dying. Which is why I am so weak now."
"We must hurry," Aragorn pressed, "Someone will have to carry you."
"I'll do it," volunteered Boromir "I am in debt to you, for you sacrificed your life for mine." Nobody but Gimli saw the look that Legolas gave him.
"Excuse me, Sirs," Adariel broke in coldly, "But I don't remember asking for anybody's help."
"But you can't walk!" exclaimed Gimli, "You'll slow us down. Two of our group have been captured, and if we do not start by nightfall, we will loose chance of saving them."
"I know that," snapped Adariel, "I was there! But I have my own ways of getting around. Do not worry, I will not be a burden to you,"
"And I suppose you will want me to call again, and then your horse will come back to you," said Aragorn, amused. But it was Legolas who answered this time, saying, "Do not be fooled, for Elven horses know more than that of the mortals. Surely, Elrond has told you so in your years in Rivendell."
Aragorn shrugged and looked at Adariel, but she only smirked. Suddenly, Legolas picked up the sound of gentle hooves crunching the leaves, galloping their way. He took his bow out and aimed it toward the direction the sound was coming from, but was stopped by a hand on his arm. Adariel spoke. "Calling is not necessary in this case. Put down your bow, Legolas."
He lowered it and they all looked toward the sound of the hoof beats for they could all hear them now. Starliss came out with a spring and a spray of drying leaves flowing about her. She reared when she saw that Adariel was standing, a look of relief on her face. The mare walked over to her mistress, and bent her front knees like she had done back on the path to Lothlorien. Her rider mounted, but swayed slightly again. Aragorn saw this, and said, "Someone should ride behind her.
Before Legolas could open his mouth to volunteer, Boromir appeared at the mare's side. "I'll do it!" he said, looking up at Adariel, "As I would have carried her anyway." Gimli snorted. Legolas said to Boromir, "It might be better if I ride with her. You have not the experience riding bareback."
Boromir was about to protest, but Aragorn said, "Legolas is right. If you do not mind, Lady Adariel, then Legolas will ride with you for now until you recover your strength." Boromir shot Legolas a Look. Legolas ignored it. Gimli snorted again, then softened it to a cough.
"I see that you've made my decision for me anyway," said Adariel, glancing down at the exchanged look between them. Then she turned her eyes to Legolas and felt her heart thump annoyingly, and all her previous thoughts fly into the air. 'I must be wearier than I thought,' she said to herself when she felt the blood rising to her cheeks. Legolas looked up at her, his brows furrowed in concern. "Are you alright, Lady Adariel?"
"I'm fine…thank you." Adariel said, snapping her head back a little, then turning it away to hide her red cheeks.
"You're taking the birds with you?" Gimli asked incredulously, "They are dead!"
"I know that," said Adariel coldly, "But I must give them a decent send off. They did save my life!" She looked up. "They would want their ashes sprinkled across the breeze to float up into the sky with the wind, as they were born to do. So in death they shall do so too."
"By the Halls of Moria," Gimli exclaimed shaking his head, "What has it come down to? Birds saving the lives of Elves?"
"We best be off now," said Aragorn, looking back up toward the canopy where the evening stars were becoming more and more visible. "The Orcs have gotten far already." Boromir and Gimli followed after him as he departed in a light run. Adariel leaned forward, and there was a slight wiggle on Starliss's part when Legolas hopped up behind her, his arms reaching around her for the reins, tugging on them.
Starliss wouldn't budge, tail flickering uncertainly.
She could feel Legolas's gaze behind her. "Reebennne, Niimm assii" she said to her mare, meaning that the Elf behind her was friendly, and that she gave her consent for him to ride. Starliss trotted onward behind Boromir. The road was bumpy along the forest lined with broken twigs and Adariel was careful to lean forward as not to lean on Legolas. Not a word was spoken, and Adariel felt too tired to look for signs of Orcs nearby.
Instead, she was thinking of sleep and why she'd woken up from Death so early. She remembered the pain in her wrist. Now, she held it up to the dimming light and saw that the skin hadn't broken or bruised. How strange it was to experience pain when there was no evident infliction of it, or mark that was left. In front of her, Boromir was hacking at some leaves that overgrew onto the path. It was dark, and Adariel could hear the annoyed and pained cries of her plant friends as they tried to withdraw their limbs from the road.
Boromir was not careful with his sword, and when one plant caught the blade in its vines, he pulled on it vigorously. The plant let go, and caught unawares, the blade nicked the side of his other forearm as it shot back. At the same time, Adariel felt something pierce her own forearm. Taken by surprise, she cried out.
Everybody turned back to look at her. Adariel could see Boromir holding onto his forearm where the blood was seeping out little by little. The cut was in the same place when her own arm hurt. She looked at it, but saw that the skin was unbroken, made pale in the light of the rising moon. Her thoughts were interrupted by Aragorn saying, "What ails you?"
"N-nothing," she stammered, unable to make sense of what was happening. There was a link between Boromir's cut and her own throbbing arm. It didn't take a fool to figure out that something had happened when she had used the Spirit Key. But she'd never remembered hearing about it. "Yes," her mind reasoned, "But nobody's ever survived it to tell of what would happen,"
She would have to wait and see. A suspicion was starting to rise in her mind, and in the meantime, she hoped that Boromir would not hurt himself again……for his sake, and for hers. The thinking now made her sleepy and she felt herself drifting back slightly every so often, and then jerking back forward again when she remembered that someone was behind her.
Still, they ran on in their rush to reach the Orc troop that carried out the two Hobbits. She knew that she couldn't sit like this much longer. Although she could sleep with her eyes open, it wouldn't ensure that she would know where she was going or what she was doing. The night went on, and the shadows moved with a will of their own. They moved faster, with Starliss at a canter. Adariel felt an urge to lean back again, and this time it overcame her embarrassment. So she rested her head against Legolas's shoulder and slept, opting to keep her eyes shut instead of open.
Somewhere close to her ear, she could hear the beating of a heart and the sound lulled her to sleep, with a warmth gathering about her. It was so comfortable here, and all thoughts flew out of her mind. Adariel could feel the fabric digging softly into her cheek as she turned her head slightly. Somewhere overhead, she could feel gentle breaths brush strands of her hair. She was already unconscious before she could feel the tightening of arms around her, gripping the reigns.
Legolas could see that the maiden in front of him was starting to waver. Every so often she was going to fall asleep soon, because every so often she would tip back toward him and suddenly jerk forward again. It wasn't the first time that he noticed how beautiful she was. Her hair was shining silver under the dim moonlight, and if it were unbound, it would wind t- "Stop that!" his mind shouted, "You're on a quest to save Middle Earth!"
He sat back a little, watching her sway slightly. Her name was Adariel…that sounded so familiar somehow but he couldn't place it. It was like it came up many times in a conversation he had long ago. Adariel. That name wasn't generally connected with the House of Elrond. But there was a ring to it that was familiar. Adariel so-and-so. It was definitely NOT Adariel, daughter of Elrond.
Last time he'd been to Rivendell, or any other time for that matter, he was sure that he hadn't seen her wandering in the gardens there. And Arwen or any of her brothers had brought up their 'sister' either. If she had been residing in Rivendell, then surely he would have noticed her before? She didn't look like Arwen, or bear any resemblance to Elrond. Instead, she took after her mother, Celebrian. He tried to picture how she looked before she left over the sea. A brief, wavering picture came to his mind then straight away molded itself into the face of the one sitting in front of him.
"At least that proves how much she looked like Celebrian," he thought.
Growing up the Prince of Mirkwood was getting to him. He'd always wanted freedom to do the things that HE wanted to do, and not what everybody ELSE wanted him to do. He couldn't do anything without that title hanging over his shoulder like a big cloud, which was why he was so glad to get away from it all when he was sent as a messenger for his father to the Council of Elrond in Rivendell. And then he had gotten himself tangled in the Quest for the Ring…even better! That would mean that he could finally get away from it all. His friends had always said that he had more of a heart for adventuring than romance.
Which was fine because back in Mirkwood, all the young Elven maidens would smile at him when he walked past, and the occasional one followed him around. They took everything he said to be some invitation to continue on what they were doing. Which he found slightly annoying. Forget slightly…it was more like EXTREMELY.
"Even if I did come to love a maiden," he thought to himself, "How would I tell that she loved me for myself and not just my title?"
He was in the middle of that thought when he felt a soft pressure on his shoulder and he saw that Lady Adariel had finally yielded to sleep. He smiled a little, glad for the darkness for once. She turned her head slightly so that her cheek touched the fabric of his tunic, and he noted that she kept her eyes closed when she slept. His breathing quickened lightly and he hoped she wouldn't notice. It was like looking at a star, with moonlight pouring over her face, and the shadows of leaves dancing across her skin. He tightened his hold on the reins.
This girl fascinated him. He thought again of the importance of her, so much so that the animals of the forest were willing to give their lives to her. And she talked to trees and animals. That was a rare thing to find. All Elves had skill to listen to the whisperings of trees and animals, but few could talk to them, and ask them questions. He searched his mind for the last name that he knew with this skill. None came up.
And it startled him that she rode all the way through Moria after them. No Elf that he knew would willingly go through the tunnels of the Dwarves, especially when they were by themselves. Even Gandalf was reluctant to lead them into Moria. He noticed that she carried a bow, although her quiver was empty. He thought then of the messages that she had sent to them, then an amused thought came to him.
So it was Lady Adariel in the tree outside of Moria. He vaguely remembered that he had heard something up in the high branches of the tree, but passed it off for a bird or a squirrel when the gates of the Dwarf Halls had opened. The one sitting in front of him was indeed, full of surprises.
Boromir jogged on, annoyed. His original intent WAS to ride with the Lady Adariel out of gratitude, although he suspected that his inner mind really wanted to ask her what exactly she saw, from wherever she was hiding. There was no doubt in his mind that she was their 'Friend' who had followed them from Moria. He had to admit that he was pretty surprised that 'it' turned out to be a 'she'.
Still, his mind relayed his last conversation with Frodo and his attempt at the Ring. He glanced behind at Adariel again and saw that she was resting against the Elf's shoulder. Boromir gritted his teeth. With that Elf everywhere, he would never get close enough to ask her about what she saw. Angered, he swung his arm out aimlessly in rage. Unfortunately, it hit a tree trunk, and there was a throbbing in his hand. His curse shot out through the night. Aragorn turned and motioned him to be silent. Gimli didn't even bother turning, his ax over his shoulder, stumbling on.
Adariel was just settling into Deep Sleep when a pain in her hand startled her out of it. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked down at her hand. It was fine, except for the throbbing. Immediately, she looked toward Boromir. His hand was red, exactly where hers hurt. Her suspicion grew. Looking up at the sky, she feigned sleep again, and the silence left her to her thinking.
So she'd swapped physical spirits with Boromir, and remained alive. That meant that a part of her was in Boromir, and that they were physically connected. If he hurt, she hurt. Luckily for herself, the wound did not appear on her as well. Only the pain. "That's good," her mind whispered sarcastically, "If he gets killed, you'll stay alive to experience the pain."
And that was the trouble. What if he was mortally wounded when she was in the middle of a battle? Wouldn't that be like leaving herself open for a sword or arrow to pierce her? Her brain grumbled. It was too late for this kind of thing, and the night grew darker. The forest's shadows both frightened her and comforted her. Most of the animals were asleep, as were the trees. She noted that there were no owls in this part of the forest.
They were still cantering along the uneven ground, sometimes slowing when they grew tired. The bumpy path lulled her to sleep again, resting back against Legolas's shoulder. Thoughts flew back in her dreams to Lakewood and Rivendell, and divided loyalties made her toss about in her sleep, her breathing coming out rugged.
Her 'father', King of Lakewood, and her real father, Elrond of Rivendell. She had heard a fair many things about Elrond, although none of them came from her adopted father. He was noble amongst both Men and Elves as he was, after all, Elrond Half-Elven. But what about her 'father', King of Lakewood? Hadn't he been the only father she had ever known? Would it be right to abandon him, even though she dreaded all the thing he had done to her like locking her inside for most of her life? And what a long life it was! The thinking was driving her insane, she knew it.
Sometime in the night, she thought she heard a voice whisper in her ear, "Shhh, sleep in peace without troubled dreams." And so she did sleep evenly, untroubled, for the rest of the night until the call of the birds brought her back into the world of Mortals and the Halls of Consciousness. The road went ever on, unwavering.
1.1 End of Chapter 10
Reviews please! NO FLAMES but constructive criticism is very welcome! –Spirit Star