Behind Stone Doors
By The Last Evenstar
A/N: Okay, okay, so I know I said I had stuff to do. And that's true. But it's Martin Luther King Jr. Day and we have no classes, so instead of studying for my midterms or preparing my audition like a good little elf, I decided to update. As you can see, I love to procrastinate. And this really IS it until next Friday. Sorry.
To all of my wonderful reviewers: You are so sweet, and it makes my day to see a review in my Inbox. Especially everyone who wished me good luck on my very hectic week. I love you all!
Chapter Six: The Last of the Elves
Arwen sat numbly for an hour or more, the burden of her knowledge bearing upon her heart like a leaden weight. She remembered her last great sacrifice. "Do I not also have your love?" he had asked. But in the end she had left him. And she did not regret it.
But this time she would.
I did not forsake the immortality of my kin to sit here while the man I love rides toward death, she thought. But saving him would be not only to risk my own life, but the life of the child I carry. The life of my son.
She remembered that day in the forest, when the little boy with the brown curls had first stolen her heart. Since then he had appeared in her dreams more than once, waiting. Waiting to be born.
He might still make it out alive, she realized. The army could be crushed, but he is a mighty warrior.
She shook her head. As Queen of Gondor, she was not going to let the country be defeated. She would not sacrifice the life and the people she had grown to love.
"Arwen?" Éowyn's voice interrupted her thoughts. "We have to do something. Time is running out."
Arwen nodded. "I have thought and thought, and am not any closer to an answer." She thought of the banner, tucked inside her saddlebag. Of the power she had thought drained long ago. To call upon it once more would be foolhardy. A certain death. She remembered the first rule of magic. Never attempt more than you feel able. She had broken it once, in making the banner. And as a result, she had almost died.
Éowyn's round face was full of despair, and inside its grave expression Arwen could see a hopeless little girl. She sighed as she realized that Éowyn, too, had the life of her husband at stake.
If I succeed, I could save so many more than just Aragorn, she realized. I would save Éowyn, and old Ioreth, who grieves that her son has gone to war. She remembered Bergil, the little boy who admired his father so much. The young woman in Minas Tirith who had cried and cried as the army rode out. I could save all them as well.
She smiled bravely and looked up at Éowyn. "I have one now."
Aragorn bit his lip and toyed with the dagger in his hands. He had ordered the men to camp east of Ithilien for a night, with a heavy guard. He sat by the fire, trying to calculate what exactly the enemy could be planning.
"My Lord?" Faramir came and sat down beside him. "What troubles you on the night of victory?"
The King sighed. "A victory, but I fear an insubstantial one."
The Prince of Ithilien was taken aback. "Insubstantial? We wiped out their entire army!"
"Their army of beasts, yes. But what about their army of men?"
"Men?" Faramir paused to ponder the question. He was no fool; he knew as well as Aragorn that their was a legion of men who has escaped them. "You think they pose a threat?"
Aragorn nodded. "More than a threat. I'm afraid that today's battle was naught but a diversion."
Now Faramir was shocked. "A diversion? But, the Mumakil –"
"Were never the real threat," Aragorn cut in. "You remember as well as I how we rode to the Black Gates of Mordor with all our armies, so as to draw the Eye of Sauron away from Frodo and Sam."
Faramir grimaced. "Actually, I can't say I do –"
Aragorn nodded, remembering. "You were unconscious. Well, that's what we did. And it worked."
Faramir gulped. "This cannot be good, then."
The King nodded. "We shall ride to Ithilien come morning. From there we will work out our strategy."
"That will work." Faramir lay back. "I have ordered it evacuated due to the nearby battles. It should be empty for us."
"Arwen –" Éowyn looked skeptical. "Are you sure you can do this?"
Arwen nodded, hating to lie. "Who's the official worrier now?" she teased.
The shieldmaiden rolled her eyes. "Last time someone said that, we hardly escaped with our lives." She eyes the Queen suspiciously. "You're sure this isn't dangerous? If anything happens to you, Aragorn will have my head."
Arwen gulped. "Just tell him I told you it was fine."
"What?"
"Nothing." Arwen hastily sat down, the white banner in her hands. "All right."
Éowyn still looked unsure. "Are you positive this is necessary? They'll know better than to ride into Ithilien with their guard down, anyway. Maybe we just need to wait it out."
Arwen shook her head. "I didn't come this far just to lose him." With that, she took a deep breath and collapsed on the floor.
Éowyn gulped. She did say that was going to happen.
Arwen, deep in meditation, drew on the magic of the banner. Its intended use had worn away, but somewhere in there her magic remained. That was the second rule.
Magic never dies.
She tried to call on it, to use it to find Aragorn. She could remember when such a task had been effortless. Now, all she got was black oblivion.
Estel! she cried, roaming the darkness. It was no use. She probed the very reaches of the magic, but even as she tried it flickered and grew dim.
Oh, Valar! she prayed. Let it work. Let me save him.
In her mind she saw Aragorn, her beloved, the light of her life. At once the picture faded, and once again she cried in despair.
This time she took no chances. Breaking every rule her father had ever taught her, she let go of everything and threw herself wholly into the magic. She knew if she succeeded, there would be no getting out. I do it for him, she reminded herself, feeling the tears soak her cheeks. My love. My hope. My Estel.
She found him asleep, just east of Ithilien. He slept uneasily, his mind full of worry. She eased herself into his mind, into his dreams.
"Arwen?" He sat up, unsure.
She felt tears spring out of her eyes and wrapped him tightly in an embrace. "It's me, melon nin. I'm here."
He smiled joyfully and kissed her with longing. "How is it that you can do this? I thought your magic was lost with your immortality."
She shook her head, unsure of how much longer she would be able to last. "It doesn't matter. Estel, you and your company are riding into a trap."
He nodded, his fears confirmed. "What do you know? HOW do you know this?"
"Do not ask me. But an army of thousands is waiting for you in Ithilien. They have taken control."
He gasped. "What? So many?"
"The refugees never arrived at Minas Tirith. Perhaps they have been taken captive." She bit her lip. "Éowyn saw it, not I."
"Éowyn?"
She smiled sadly at his puzzlement. "She'll tell you." She could feel her strength fading. She reached out suddenly and kissed him; long, hard, and passionate. Tears mingled in her eyes. "I love you, Estel. Be safe."
He held on to her. "What's wrong? What's happening?"
She could feel herself pulling away. "I love you, ui-meltha [forever my beloved]."
"Arwen!" It was no use. She was gone.
She lay crying, shrouded in darkness. More than anything she wanted to be safe behind the stone doors of Minas Tirith once more, in his arms then and forever.
With all her strength she tried to fall back into her body. In a corner of her mind she could see Éowyn, shaking her and crying.
She thought of the child, the brown-curled little boy who was to have been her pride and joy, her own beloved son. Forgive me, my child.
Suddenly she was walking amidst the tree, and behind her a handsome young man was crying "Tinúviel! Tinúviel!"
Then she way lying on the top of Cerin Amroth in the land of Lorien, and the same handsome man offered her a ring with green stones.
She was again in Rivendell, this time offering the man her own jewels – the Evenstar pendant.
And suddenly she was standing, facing the whole of Gondor and pledging to love him forever and ever.
And then everything went black.
A/N: Don't you just love a cliffhanger?