Love Is Lost: Revised Edition
Chapter One: Confusion
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Account of Aragorn
(K, peoples, I know that my last story under the same title was totally against canon and I'm fixing it. I hope u like it! Your desperate Frodolover614. P.S.: Kit really does have red hair and Aragorn does love Arwen this time. The song is by Loreena Mckennit: she's my fav singer! And for any that wanna check it out, the CD's title is "The Mask and Mirror", the song's title being "A Mystic's Dream". Or for just a little snippet, go to http://www.quinlanroad.com/mp3s/mystics.mp3. What I put in the story is what you'll hear on that link. And I have a theory: I am related to J.R.R. Tolkien and everybody else for that matter cuz we all came from monkeys. Maybe not the same monkeys, but monkeys none the less.)
She held dignity and pride at her very fingertips, and her beauty and grace gave her the appearance of that of royal blood and that she was. She reminded me so of the elf maiden I loved: Arwen Undomiel. They were cousins in fact, through their mothers, and the greatest of friends, as we were. She was Aertali, elven lady of the wind and fire.
She was strange for an elf maiden, preferring breeches and shirts to the soft velvet dresses she carried with her and galloping wildly on her horse, Free, across the grasslands to reading and learning, although she knew much about the world. And her hair was a deep, rich red: the color of her favorite wine from Rivendell. It was a rare treat for her to taste it: we only visited the great Elven city once every few years.
One morning on our yearly journey to the Prancing Pony, I woke very early, earlier than normal, to find her brushing her lovely chestnut desert mare, singing softly to herself:
A clouded dream on an earthly night,
Hangs upon the crescent moon,
A voiceless song in an ageless light,
Sings at the coming dawn.
Birds in flight are calling there,
Where the heart moves the stones
There that my heart is longing fore,
All for the love of you.
The tune was so haunting, so magical. It was unlike jovial Kit to sing something as melancholy as that. But I knew of her past: too horrible it was to speak of. I sensed her deep blue eyes on me and I looked away. She changed to song:
Eureus,
Afer Ventus
So the world goes round and round
With all you ever knew,
They say the sky, high above,
Is Caribbean blue.
If every man says all he can
If every man is true
Do I believe the sky above
Is Caribbean blue.
Boreas
Zephyirus
If all you told,
Was turned to gold
If all you dreamed was new,
Imagine sky, high above
In Caribbean blue.
Eureus.
Afer Ventus.
Boreas.
Zephyirus…
Africus…
I sighed and stood to roll up my bed roll. Now this was more like her. But something was wrong. I could sense the sadness radiating from her as she stripped off Free's bridle, tied to an oak tree, to let her find her own food. I called out her name, her real Elvish name: "Aertali?" She didn't respond as she watched her beautiful mare canter away slightly to a particularly green patch of grass. "Kit?" She shook her head and looked at me. There was silence as the fire that kindled within her soul flickered. "Kit, will you go hunting? I did it yesterday." She smiled and nodded and her flame came back to life again.
I was troubled by her distress for I had not known her to be so saddened by anything in the seven years of wandering together. Yes, she was a nomad by heart. She couldn't ever bear to stay in the same place for long. As I watched her strip out her birch bark bow and quiver, stocked with arrows, I knew she was dwelling on something, but what?