Evil's Point
by SIHansonWeasleyGamgee
It's here, it's here! Chapter nine is finally here!!! A big hug and a box of candy to my wonderful reviewers—I can't say enough how much your feedback means to me. Hope you enjoy this chapter!
Chapter Eight
In a small, dark room, a black hand rested on a cement bowl of water. In the water, an image of a beautiful Elven maiden shimmered. She was clad in a nightgown of the finest fabric, pale gold. Her dark hair flowed freely over the linen pillow her head lay on. Her cheeks were fair and rosy, her lips plump and red. One of her arms was wrapped around a man, a tall man, black-bearded and –haired, also dressed in a fine golden sleeping shift. The Tree and the Crown of Gondor were embroidered into the material, and above the tree, seven jeweled stars were set. The Elven maiden slept peacefully.
A soft, hideous laughter echoed in the dark room. "Sleep well, King of Gondor," a voice sneered. "Sleep well, fair queen. Enjoy each other while you can. Bask in your love! Rule your foolish little kingdom! But be careful, little king. For your queen, your other half, your heart, will falter. She will weaken. Wither like a fallen leaf from a mallorn tree. She will fall, and you with her! Because I am coming for her! I am coming to dim the jewel of Gondor!!!"
Evil laughter—a rush of wind—a scream...
"ARWEEEEN, NOOOOOOOOO!"
The King of Gondor sat bolt upright, trembling, sweat dripping down his face. Instantly he felt a hand on his arm, and heard Arwen's voice asking, "My love? What is it?"
Aragorn couldn't stop himself from looking at her, from touching her face, making sure she was still alive and whole. "You live," he breathed.
"What happened?"
But Aragorn was getting out of bed. Pulling on a robe, he strode briskly to the door—and it burst open. There stood Brogil, Aragorn's personal guard, Sardil (Arwen's guard), and three other palace guards. All dropped to their knees. Aragorn impatiently bade them rise with a wave of his hand, and Brogil spoke. "My lord? My lady? What is the..."
Aragorn brushed past the guards, who stared open-mouthed. He shoved open the doors to the throne room. Everything was just as they had left it the night before. He peered around, into every shadow. Nothing was there.
Aragorn sighed and put his head in his hands. The dream had felt so real! A dark shadow, lying in wait...the knife it flung toward his beloved...the look of disbelief on Arwen's face as she looked down at the blade's handle, protruding from her chest...Aragorn ran back to his bedroom and nearly ran into Arwen, who was up with her dressing gown on, just about to see what was happening.
"Aragorn, what happened? Did you see..."
She was silenced by Aragorn's kiss. "It's all right. You are safe," Aragorn breathed into Arwen's ear as he held her for a moment, reassuring himself that she was still there, not harmed. Turning to the guards, Aragorn dismissed them. "Everything's all right. Go back to your posts." Bowing, the guards obeyed their king.
"What happened, my love?"Arwen inquired again as Aragorn crossed the room and sat down on the bed.
"A dream," he said simply. Arwen, hands on her husband's shoulders, massaged his neck with her thumbs, and Aragorn sighed, tilting his head back.
"Will you tell me about it, darling?" Arwen asked.
Aragorn hesitated, unwilling to scare Arwen. After a minute's careful thought, he replied, "Someone dear to me was hurt."
"I'm sorry, my love," Arwen murmured, kissing the king's neck. "Remember, it was only a dream."
"Yes, darling," Aragorn agreed. "Come, let us sleep some more. There are still several hours until daylight." With a goodnight kiss, Aragorn and his beloved settled down to sleep.
The next day as Aragorn and Arwen went over state business in the throne room, an Elf burst through the doors, a scroll clutched in his hand. He bowed low and announced, "Urgent message from Rivendell, sire!" He held out the scroll. A guard came forward and took it, handing it to the king with a bow.
"I thank you, Elsila," Aragorn said, recognizing the elf from Elrond's household. "Will you stay a while in one of the elven-houses?"
"I'm afraid I must decline," said Elsila with a bow. "I am needed in Rivendell...as you will see in the message."
"As you will," Aragorn nodded, beginning to read the letter. "Confidential to the King and Queen of Gondor," he read. With bows, the guards all left the room. Elsila, as the messenger, was allowed to stay while the message was read.
"My lord Aragorn and my lady Arwen, High King and Queen of Gondor..." Aragorn continued to read. "I am writing to you on a matter of the utmost importance. A friend's life is in grave danger." Here Aragorn looked at Arwen, who, frowning, nodded slightly, bidding him to read on. Aragorn continued:
"Three nights ago, on the eve of the new moon, the hobbits Frodo, Merry and Sam arrived. With them, and dreadfully ill, was Pippin. He had been bitten by a creature in the form of a wolf, but which injected into Pippin's wound a poison so lethal, no true wolf could have borne it and lived. My best healing efforts drew the poison out, but left Pippin very close to death. I have not told the other halflings this. I have decided a channelling healing will be the best way to save Pippin's life."
Aragorn paused. A channelling healing occurred when an Elven healer poured most or all of his power into another healer, usually an Elf (though mortals could do it too.) The combined powers of the two healers were much stronger than the separate healing powers of each could ever be. However, the process was immensely dangerous. If something went wrong, both healers could lose their powers.
Reading on, Aragorn found the words he knew he'd find.
"I want you to be my channel, Estel."
Looking up, Aragorn found Arwen gazing at him, her mouth slightly open. "It's incredibly dangerous," Aragorn mumbled. "Elrond hasn't done a channelling healing in a long time..."
"Over a thousand human years," Arwen clarified.
"But...Pippin ill..."
"Is there any more in the message?" Arwen asked.
"He sends you and I his love, and prays that the Valar bless our love, our reign and our country," Aragorn read. Laying the scroll down on the table, Aragorn turned to his love. "I am conflicted..." he said. "My head tells me my people need me, but my heart bids me go to Rivendell and save my friend's life.."
Arwen laid her hand on his arm. "There are others who could rule the Kingdom of Gondor in your absence, my lord. Pippin needs you. Ada needs you. Go, vanimelda."
"My love..." Aragorn pulled Arwen in for a passionate, longing kiss. "There's nothing I would rather do than stay at your side," he murmured into Arwen's ear. "But you're right. Elrond is right. I must go—and at once! Will you rule the people in my absence, my beloved?"
"I would be..." Arwen started to say, but she was interrupted as the throne room doors burst open. There stood Faramir, a grave expression on his face and a scroll in his hand.
"Faramir!" Aragorn exclaimed with a grin, rising to greet his friend. "We weren't expecting you for a few days."
"My lord Aragorn," Faramir bowed, "I have an urgent message!" He held out an envelope. "I was met on the outskirts of the city by an Elf in Mirkwood gear, who bade me deliver this to you at once."
"I think I shall very soon tire of hearing that..." Aragorn mumbled. "I thank you, Faramir," he said in a normal voice as he took the envelope from Faramir. Tearing open the envelope, Aragorn read the letter—and went white.
"Aragorn?" Arwen asked, alarmed. Faramir, also surprised, took a step forward. "My lord?"
When Aragorn looked up, in his eyes was an emotion few had ever seen there before: fear. Wordlessly he held the letter out so Arwen and Faramir could read it. Faramir read aloud:
"YOU THINK YOU OWN YOUR KINGDOM NOW THAT SAURON'S MET HIS END,
BUT THE GATHERING CONTINUES, AND DEATH TO YOU I SEND.
YOUR EYES SHALL BRIM WITH PAIN AND GRIEF, FOR YOUR FAIR QUEEN'S DAYS GROW SLIM;
AND GONDOR SHALL BE CONQUERED WHEN ITS BRIGHTEST JEWEL IS DIMMED."
The four in the room looked at each other in shock, disbelief, and fear. But before anyone could say anything else, there was a sudden splintering crash, and a whoosh of something flying through the air. Faramir and Elsila cried out and dove toward Arwen...but too late.
A sickening thwack resounded through the room. Arwen let out a single, sharp scream, her eyes, locked on Aragorn's, full of shock, pain, and sorrow.
"NOOOOOOOOOO!" Aragorn cried, darting forward and catching Arwen as her eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed into the king's arms.
In the queen's back was a black feathered arrow.
::::hides from tomato-throwing readers::: I know! I know! ANOTHER cliffie! I just can't help it--they're soo much fun to write!! I promise you'll find out what's wrong with Legolas and if Arwen is all right and poor Pippin....all in good time! :::evil laughter::: Hope you enjoyed!!!
by SIHansonWeasleyGamgee
It's here, it's here! Chapter nine is finally here!!! A big hug and a box of candy to my wonderful reviewers—I can't say enough how much your feedback means to me. Hope you enjoy this chapter!
Chapter Eight
In a small, dark room, a black hand rested on a cement bowl of water. In the water, an image of a beautiful Elven maiden shimmered. She was clad in a nightgown of the finest fabric, pale gold. Her dark hair flowed freely over the linen pillow her head lay on. Her cheeks were fair and rosy, her lips plump and red. One of her arms was wrapped around a man, a tall man, black-bearded and –haired, also dressed in a fine golden sleeping shift. The Tree and the Crown of Gondor were embroidered into the material, and above the tree, seven jeweled stars were set. The Elven maiden slept peacefully.
A soft, hideous laughter echoed in the dark room. "Sleep well, King of Gondor," a voice sneered. "Sleep well, fair queen. Enjoy each other while you can. Bask in your love! Rule your foolish little kingdom! But be careful, little king. For your queen, your other half, your heart, will falter. She will weaken. Wither like a fallen leaf from a mallorn tree. She will fall, and you with her! Because I am coming for her! I am coming to dim the jewel of Gondor!!!"
Evil laughter—a rush of wind—a scream...
"ARWEEEEN, NOOOOOOOOO!"
The King of Gondor sat bolt upright, trembling, sweat dripping down his face. Instantly he felt a hand on his arm, and heard Arwen's voice asking, "My love? What is it?"
Aragorn couldn't stop himself from looking at her, from touching her face, making sure she was still alive and whole. "You live," he breathed.
"What happened?"
But Aragorn was getting out of bed. Pulling on a robe, he strode briskly to the door—and it burst open. There stood Brogil, Aragorn's personal guard, Sardil (Arwen's guard), and three other palace guards. All dropped to their knees. Aragorn impatiently bade them rise with a wave of his hand, and Brogil spoke. "My lord? My lady? What is the..."
Aragorn brushed past the guards, who stared open-mouthed. He shoved open the doors to the throne room. Everything was just as they had left it the night before. He peered around, into every shadow. Nothing was there.
Aragorn sighed and put his head in his hands. The dream had felt so real! A dark shadow, lying in wait...the knife it flung toward his beloved...the look of disbelief on Arwen's face as she looked down at the blade's handle, protruding from her chest...Aragorn ran back to his bedroom and nearly ran into Arwen, who was up with her dressing gown on, just about to see what was happening.
"Aragorn, what happened? Did you see..."
She was silenced by Aragorn's kiss. "It's all right. You are safe," Aragorn breathed into Arwen's ear as he held her for a moment, reassuring himself that she was still there, not harmed. Turning to the guards, Aragorn dismissed them. "Everything's all right. Go back to your posts." Bowing, the guards obeyed their king.
"What happened, my love?"Arwen inquired again as Aragorn crossed the room and sat down on the bed.
"A dream," he said simply. Arwen, hands on her husband's shoulders, massaged his neck with her thumbs, and Aragorn sighed, tilting his head back.
"Will you tell me about it, darling?" Arwen asked.
Aragorn hesitated, unwilling to scare Arwen. After a minute's careful thought, he replied, "Someone dear to me was hurt."
"I'm sorry, my love," Arwen murmured, kissing the king's neck. "Remember, it was only a dream."
"Yes, darling," Aragorn agreed. "Come, let us sleep some more. There are still several hours until daylight." With a goodnight kiss, Aragorn and his beloved settled down to sleep.
The next day as Aragorn and Arwen went over state business in the throne room, an Elf burst through the doors, a scroll clutched in his hand. He bowed low and announced, "Urgent message from Rivendell, sire!" He held out the scroll. A guard came forward and took it, handing it to the king with a bow.
"I thank you, Elsila," Aragorn said, recognizing the elf from Elrond's household. "Will you stay a while in one of the elven-houses?"
"I'm afraid I must decline," said Elsila with a bow. "I am needed in Rivendell...as you will see in the message."
"As you will," Aragorn nodded, beginning to read the letter. "Confidential to the King and Queen of Gondor," he read. With bows, the guards all left the room. Elsila, as the messenger, was allowed to stay while the message was read.
"My lord Aragorn and my lady Arwen, High King and Queen of Gondor..." Aragorn continued to read. "I am writing to you on a matter of the utmost importance. A friend's life is in grave danger." Here Aragorn looked at Arwen, who, frowning, nodded slightly, bidding him to read on. Aragorn continued:
"Three nights ago, on the eve of the new moon, the hobbits Frodo, Merry and Sam arrived. With them, and dreadfully ill, was Pippin. He had been bitten by a creature in the form of a wolf, but which injected into Pippin's wound a poison so lethal, no true wolf could have borne it and lived. My best healing efforts drew the poison out, but left Pippin very close to death. I have not told the other halflings this. I have decided a channelling healing will be the best way to save Pippin's life."
Aragorn paused. A channelling healing occurred when an Elven healer poured most or all of his power into another healer, usually an Elf (though mortals could do it too.) The combined powers of the two healers were much stronger than the separate healing powers of each could ever be. However, the process was immensely dangerous. If something went wrong, both healers could lose their powers.
Reading on, Aragorn found the words he knew he'd find.
"I want you to be my channel, Estel."
Looking up, Aragorn found Arwen gazing at him, her mouth slightly open. "It's incredibly dangerous," Aragorn mumbled. "Elrond hasn't done a channelling healing in a long time..."
"Over a thousand human years," Arwen clarified.
"But...Pippin ill..."
"Is there any more in the message?" Arwen asked.
"He sends you and I his love, and prays that the Valar bless our love, our reign and our country," Aragorn read. Laying the scroll down on the table, Aragorn turned to his love. "I am conflicted..." he said. "My head tells me my people need me, but my heart bids me go to Rivendell and save my friend's life.."
Arwen laid her hand on his arm. "There are others who could rule the Kingdom of Gondor in your absence, my lord. Pippin needs you. Ada needs you. Go, vanimelda."
"My love..." Aragorn pulled Arwen in for a passionate, longing kiss. "There's nothing I would rather do than stay at your side," he murmured into Arwen's ear. "But you're right. Elrond is right. I must go—and at once! Will you rule the people in my absence, my beloved?"
"I would be..." Arwen started to say, but she was interrupted as the throne room doors burst open. There stood Faramir, a grave expression on his face and a scroll in his hand.
"Faramir!" Aragorn exclaimed with a grin, rising to greet his friend. "We weren't expecting you for a few days."
"My lord Aragorn," Faramir bowed, "I have an urgent message!" He held out an envelope. "I was met on the outskirts of the city by an Elf in Mirkwood gear, who bade me deliver this to you at once."
"I think I shall very soon tire of hearing that..." Aragorn mumbled. "I thank you, Faramir," he said in a normal voice as he took the envelope from Faramir. Tearing open the envelope, Aragorn read the letter—and went white.
"Aragorn?" Arwen asked, alarmed. Faramir, also surprised, took a step forward. "My lord?"
When Aragorn looked up, in his eyes was an emotion few had ever seen there before: fear. Wordlessly he held the letter out so Arwen and Faramir could read it. Faramir read aloud:
"YOU THINK YOU OWN YOUR KINGDOM NOW THAT SAURON'S MET HIS END,
BUT THE GATHERING CONTINUES, AND DEATH TO YOU I SEND.
YOUR EYES SHALL BRIM WITH PAIN AND GRIEF, FOR YOUR FAIR QUEEN'S DAYS GROW SLIM;
AND GONDOR SHALL BE CONQUERED WHEN ITS BRIGHTEST JEWEL IS DIMMED."
The four in the room looked at each other in shock, disbelief, and fear. But before anyone could say anything else, there was a sudden splintering crash, and a whoosh of something flying through the air. Faramir and Elsila cried out and dove toward Arwen...but too late.
A sickening thwack resounded through the room. Arwen let out a single, sharp scream, her eyes, locked on Aragorn's, full of shock, pain, and sorrow.
"NOOOOOOOOOO!" Aragorn cried, darting forward and catching Arwen as her eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed into the king's arms.
In the queen's back was a black feathered arrow.
::::hides from tomato-throwing readers::: I know! I know! ANOTHER cliffie! I just can't help it--they're soo much fun to write!! I promise you'll find out what's wrong with Legolas and if Arwen is all right and poor Pippin....all in good time! :::evil laughter::: Hope you enjoyed!!!