Author's Note: So sorry for the delay – I've been a bit preoccupied lately. I've had half of this done for a while, but I thought it was too short to post so I held it off until I managed to beef it up a little bit. This chapter should either answer some questions for y'all or just confuse you even more. Either way, I hope you enjoy it! Thanks for sticking with me – I'm as anxious for the next bit as you guys. Please, let me know what you think!
-- Arwen Tinuviel
That night I dreamed. I was having another vision, but something told me that I was seeing the present, not the past. Except it was the past; I'd become a part of it somehow, and it no longer felt like such a long time ago for me. I saw a white cliff with great boulders scattered around the bottom, and just at the cliff base was a carved opening, like a gigantic door. Then I saw small, dark figures crouched among the rocks, barely moving. I moved closer and I recognized the figures as my friends from Rivendell: all the Hobbits, and Aragorn and Legolas of course. But something was wrong; some of them were crying. I noticed that Legolas was standing somewhat apart from the others, so I went to him to see if I could find out what had happened. When I reached him it hit me: I had seen this before. They had just left Moria, and Gandalf was nowhere to be seen. Legolas' eyes were downcast, and his fine, Elven features were contorted with confusion and grief. He raised his deep, sorrow-filled eyes to mine, and I realized with a jolt that he could see me. That had never happened before.
"We've lost Gandalf," he said, his voice quiet but remarkably clear, "He fell into the depths of Moria."
"I know," I said.
"We should never have come this way," he said sadly.
He looked away; he didn't cry like the others; his despair was so complete that not even tears could express it. But what could I say to him? I knew that Gandalf would come back to them eventually, but I couldn't tell him that. It wasn't my place to tell him – it wasn't my right. It never occurred to me to wonder why he seemed so unshaken by my presence there; I guess he was just so unprepared for what had just happened that my appearing there was a minor phenomenon.
"What are you thinking, Esther?" he asked suddenly.
I raised my eyes to meet his; he was looking straight in my eyes, searching my consciousness again, the way he'd done so many times when he'd been so close to my side. I felt a lump rise in my throat.
"I thought I'd never see you again," I whispered.
He gaze softened, and I knew he was thinking the same thing. I raised a hand to touch his face, but then I heard Aragorn's voice.
"Legolas!" he called, "Get them up."
Painfully, Legolas turned away from me and went to help the others. Bitter tears welled up in my eyes, and I heard Boromir's protests in the background as the scene shifted. Suddenly I was looking down into a clear, shallow pool of water. I watched, and in the depths of the pool I saw pieces of the visions I'd had before, scenes from my own childhood, and faces of people I'd never met. I couldn't understand what was happening, but suddenly I saw a dark well, and a pale pair of hands close over the top rim as someone pulled himself – or herself – up from the bottom. I tore my eyes away, and the rest of my setting became clear to me: I had been looking down into a shallow basin in a beautiful clearing in a dense wood. Just behind the basin, standing in front a great tree and holding a silver chalice, was an incredibly tall, regal-looking woman dressed all in white. She had long, long hair that fell like a pale waterfall down her shoulders, and her eyes held so much depth that when I looked in them I felt like I could see for miles and miles. It was Galadriel.
"Do you know how evil first came into the world?" she asked, and her voice was like an enormous bell: deep, resonating and almost frighteningly powerful.
"No," I answered.
"When the kingdom of Arda was first created, there came many of the Ainur, the Holy Ones, to protect and nurture it. They are now called the Valar."
I remembered the name Arda from my reading of The Silmarillion: that was the Elven name for the Earth. And I knew that the Valar were the gods that watched over Middle Earth from the Undying Lands in the west. Galadriel continued.
"For many long years they prepared the land for the coming of Elves and Men, but one among them, who was once called Melkor, sought to unmake the creation of Ilúvatar and turn Arda to his own will."
"Morgoth," I murmured, "That's what you call him now."
Galadriel nodded.
"But he's gone now, isn't he?" I asked uncertainly, "I thought the Valar banished him from Middle Earth in the Second Age."
"Morgoth himself is no longer among us," said Galadriel, "That is true. But while he remained in Middle Earth, he summoned to him strange creatures and spirits of darkness to aid him in his foul work. And long after the destruction of Morgoth, and even after the destruction of his servant, Sauron, the creatures he had turned to his will lingered on."
"You mean the orcs and goblins?"
"Among others. There were some who defied Morgoth, and turned to their own evil purposes without his knowledge. And he became powerless to stop them."
"Shelob was one of those, I think. The giant spider."
"She was, but Shelob is but the last daughter of the great Ungoliant, who destroyed the trees of Valinor and sentenced us all to darkness for a great many years. She became selfish and untamable, and even Morgoth feared her after a time."
Slowly it dawned on me just what Galadriel was trying to tell me. I felt my pulse quicken.
"Samara," I said finally, "She was one of his servants too."
Galadriel said nothing for a while, but set down the silver chalice and came towards me, bending her head down to look me straight in the eyes.
"It sometimes happens," she said, "That a spirit will be taken into a world in which it does not belong. There are many other worlds besides this one, and some boundaries have been broken that should never have been crossed."
"She never should have been born. . . But, how could she have existed in this world before? I mean, how did you know who she was? She was just a little girl when she died; she couldn't have lived that long."
Galadriel straightened slowly and went to the basin in the middle of the clearing, which I realized at this point was Galadriel's Mirror. She bent over the basin and looked down into it for several moments, then spoke again.
"If you learn nothing else from this meeting, remember this one thing: no living creature is wholly evil. Everything and everyone brought into being by Ilúvatar began pure and good, even Melkor himself. It is only through lies and misunderstandings that evil is allowed to exist."
"What are you saying? Rachel was right?"
"Think not about the oversights of others. You have much to learn, Eledhwen, and learn it you will, but time will always be against you. However, fear not, for your heart will lead you rightly if you allow yourself to hear it."
She smiled down at me as my vision began to fade. Just as I started coming out of the dream I heard her voice once more, softer than a whisper: "Namárië." And then my eyes opened. I lay awake in thoughtful confusion for a while, then my bedside phone rang, jarring me into full consciousness. I cringed, then rolled over and picked up the handset.
"What?" I mumbled irritably.
"Morning, Esther!" said Justin, "You awake yet?"
"I am now."
"Good, come on downstairs. We need to eat and then get to that phone booth."
"Huh?"
"The portkey, remember? At 7:14."
"Oh yeah. Right."
"Coming?"
"Yeah, yeah. I'll be right down."
I got dressed, packed, and went downstairs to meet Justin. I went through the motions in a fog; I still couldn't shake the dream from my head. That's when I first realized I would never be able to sleep again, not the way I used to. It was a jarring discovery; it wasn't exactly unhappy, because I still felt rested, but all the sudden I felt as if an impossibly heavy load had been packed onto my shoulders. I would be open to these visions all the time now, and I would never truly sleep again. I didn't say anything to Justin then; I wanted to focus on getting to the portkey so we could finish what we needed to do, even though we weren't sure what that was yet.
We went outside to the bright red phone booth after breakfast. Justin checked his watch.
"We've got two minutes," he said, crouching down next to the stick of gum on the ground.
"What do we do?" I asked, kneeling down next to him, "Just touch it?"
"Yeah, I think so," said Justin, "I guess all our stuff will just come with us. Right?"
"As long as we're holding onto it. I wonder it feels like. . ."
"I don't think it'll hurt, if that's what you're worried about."
"No, I'm just curious. I'm also not really awake yet, and I don't wanna fall too hard when we get to the other side."
I gripped the straps of my backpack a little tighter, just to make sure it wouldn't fall off during the trip. Then Justin's watch beeped, and he glanced up at me expectantly.
"Okay," he said, "Here we go."
We both reached out and put a finger on the stick of gum. First nothing happened, and I was just starting to think something had gone wrong when I felt myself jerked forward. It felt like someone had tied an invisible piece of twine to my ribcage and given a hard yank at the least expected moment. It was nauseatingly disorienting, but it was short. I felt like I had turned inside-out for a second, and then suddenly I was crash-landing on a chilly hillside somewhere outside the city. I felt someone pulling me back to my feet.
"Oh dear, rough landing," said a cheerful voice to my left, "Everyone all right?"
I looked up, and I saw a man in a bright purple robe and a matching hat helping Justin to his feet. A bit of red hair tucked out from under the hat, and he wore a pair of horn-rimmed glasses.
"Mr. Weasley?" I asked as it finally dawned on me who I was looking at.
"At your service," he said, tipping his pointed hat politely.
"It's such an honor to meet you," I gushed, shaking his hand heartily.
He laughed and returned the gesture, then started leading Justin and me down the hill.
"Is it indeed?" he asked, "I'm only too delighted to be interrogating the pair of you – Muggles! In the flesh! You are Muggles, aren't you?"
Justin and I shared a quick, covert glance, struggling not to burst into giggles at his enthusiasm.
"To tell you the truth," I answered as honestly as I could, "I'm not really sure anymore. I mean, I thought I was one, but –"
"Oh, I'm a Muggle for sure," Justin interjected, seeing Mr. Weasley's puzzled expression, "It's her we're not so sure about. You know, just because of all the stuff that's happened lately. I mean. . . Well, maybe you'd better explain it," he said to me.
"All in good time," said Mr. Weasley, "Let's get you two settled first. I'm sure this has been a trying ordeal for you. Imagine, a nenshavite coming back after all these years. . ."
I wanted to ask what he meant by that, but I was too anxious to reach the foot of the hill at the moment. Besides, I was sure we'd find out later.