A/N) Only 3 reviews! Oh well maybe my luck will change with *this* chapter.
Everyone comes together except for Boromir who is dead (I do like him, you
wouldn't want a spectre floating around, would you?) Thank you for all your
support on this story so far!
~Chapter 4~
~The Fellowship Reunited~
Aragorn groaned as consciousness slowly returned to embrace his body with pain. Intense agony swept up his right arm and into his shoulder before dwindling and vanishing altogether. His eyes were unfocused as he tried to wake.
A cool hand found its way onto his head and he jerked spasmodically trying to escape.
"Hush, my love. Do not struggle. Go back to sleep." A soft elvish voice commanded.
Slowly he found his eyes sliding shut once more and darkness take him.
Arwen looked lovingly at her sleeping husband. She had very nearly lost him only a few hours ago. She could not bear to know their family could've been scattered. She had yet to know the reason behind Gandalf and Frodo's return. She was content to wait while her husband recovered.
The wound he had sustained hadn't been poisonous – thankfully – but it would mean he'd be unable to use his sword-arm. It had rendered it useless. Gandalf had explained that the Knights mean to come and retrieve Aragorn, yet it would be easier for them if he could not fight. He could still use his arm, but his fingers refused to hold anything. The wound had caused his hand to go numb because of what the beast had done when biting into him.
All Gandalf had said was that dark magic was at work here, something that no healer would be able to heal in Middle-Earth. He did say that over a period of time the King's hand would heal but for the present it was useless.
It was another day before Aragorn awoke once more and graced the room with his presence. Arwen sat beside him, a gentle hand running through his hair. He moaned softly at the touch.
As he woke memories came back to him of that night. A sharp stinging pain ran up his arm, eating at him. He jerked nearly sending Arwen from the bed.
"Stop my love. There is nothing to harm you here. It is I, Arwen."
Her soothing words calmed him and his hazy mind slowly cleared allowing him to open his eyes. "Is this a dream?" he asked.
"No. You are in Minas Tirith in the Houses of Healing." Arwen replied. "Wake up Estel."
"Did something happen that I think happened?"
Arwen looked slightly confused. "You don't remember?"
He shook his head. "It seems so unbelievable...but judging by the look on your face I can see that what I think has happened did. I mean, flying through the air, and then Orcs and boats, and Gandalf? It was real, was it not? And I have a wound which I did not have before."
"All those things happened unfortunately. If it hadn't been for Mithrandir you would be, well, in the hands of that enemy."
Aragorn sighed thoughtfully. "It seems that Faramir's assumption was correct. Remind me to not go in sunlight or moonlight. Those things know. Tell me why is Mithrandir here? I thought he had sailed West years ago."
"He did but he comes back. All we know is that some evil is out in the west. He came with Frodo and the other hobbits. He has called for Legolas and Gimli. The Fellowship must reunite, he says. Yet he refuses to divulge what he knows."
"We'll find out his reasons soon enough I expect."
"I fear Estel. I fear our children will be unsafe in this wide world. If there is a war coming, how can we hope to protect them? I would never let you go off into battle."
"I know." Aragorn said. "I know. Do not worry yourself. We will discuss that issue if war ever comes to our borders again."
Arwen took hold of his hand and kissed it. "Rest Estel. We have a lot of work to do after you recover. It is time for you to sleep." She watched, a sad smile on her face, as Aragorn fell deeply asleep, as the darkness claimed him.
*****
It was almost a day later that Aragorn was deemed well enough to rise from bed. His wound still ached, and his hand numb, but he felt ready to hold counsel. The good news was that Legolas and Gimli had arrived in the middle of the night and seeing the mess the creature had made of the tower of Minas Tirith had demanded an explanation, but Gandalf had told them to be patient. And so a long night had been spent trying to entertain the dwarf.
Talk bustled round the city of the King's unexpected kidnap and his return though it seemed Gandalf and the 'flying creature' as the woman put it, was the main source of chatter and talk, and soon tales were flying through the city of a heroic battle on the harbour, though no one actually knew the true story of what had happened between Gandalf and the 'flying creature'.
In the afternoon Gandalf called a council that was to consist of the members of the Fellowship, but Arwen, Faramir, Éowyn and Eldarion were also bidden to attend. None save Gandalf and Frodo knew what was going on, and the others waited patiently for the white wizard to arrive with his young charge.
Presently the doors to the King's throne room were pushed open and in stepped Gandalf with Frodo walking behind him. The doors were shut and bolted, and guards posted outside the door. No one was to disturb them for anything.
Once everyone was seated in a circle, sitting in big, cushioned chairs, Gandalf began his tale. He explained about the First Age and the war between Melkor (Morgoth) and the first elves and men, and how it ended with the intervention of the Valar. Then he spoke of Morgoth's imprisonment, and how he suspected him to have escaped. It was here when he mentioned the probability that there was a prophecy that Legolas intervened and spoke on behalf of these facts.
"I heard a long time ago of a dark whisper in the wind. It said that even when evil was defeated it would rise again from the ashes bringing with it the doom of Valinor. I was reluctant to believe this. I was searching in my father's halls after he left and discovered something rather curious. There was an old poem, which I could not read myself, yet my councillor could. It was set on a rusty piece of yellow paper rolled up and stashed away in the furthest corners of my father's halls. My councillor translated it as this or to what he thought it to be:
'For any reason I am stripped of my power, it will be said that I will return with full strength when the last of my servants fail to take this world as their own, and if they succeed, I will be released, and serve them until my power is found.'
"Then he faltered. It took him a while to translate the next part but he did."
''And he that holds the Numenorean power will be instrumental in the fall of Middle-Earth. But the fate of the true one is to be death, for when the power is to be restored to its rightful bearer, the Numenorean's will wane, wither and die. And the true power in this world will be known. Everything will come to darkness, and all will bow before us.'
Legolas paused looking into each member's eyes before continuing. "I cannot understand some of the terms. I asked myself 'was it translated properly?' yet I do not doubt my councillor's skill with languages. But this confuses me. Does these words mean now? Are we related to it?"
The elf once more cast a glance about the room and then sat down in his chair; Gimli looking at him puzzled by the complication of it all.
Gandalf stood stepping into the middle. "What you spoke is correct Legolas though I few minor words are mistranslated. However, coming back to my point on these prophecies. Morgoth and Sauron made them during their time in this world. The words they spoke are bonded forever in the music of Ainur. Nothing can prevent him from rising." Here Gandalf spoke of the Rising of Numenor and the Valar's decision to send Gandalf back to Middle- Earth. "Yet Morgoth has not attacked Middle-Earth or Valinor for a reason. He needs one more piece to accomplish his full strength. And that is the bearer of the Numenorean power."
"It's me, isn't it?" Aragorn said, "I'm the one he is hunting, which explains the attacks. And what that thing said to me before we came to the Orcs."
"You did not mention that!" Gandalf exclaimed.
"I did not think I needed to." Mumbled Aragorn. "This is what it said to me 'It would be wise for you to cease your struggle heir of Numenor. It would not please my master if you were damaged beyond repair.' I was confused. I did not think much more of it."
Gandalf stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Hmm, it would explain the beasts hesitation when chasing us. It seemed reluctant to harm you. Yet it bit into your shoulder. I can see why it did. Morgoth needs you alive; as long as you breathe he will not care if you are injured, yet it is not life threatening. I am correct in assuming that the beast inserted some of its dark power into your arm, rendering your hand useless, making you more susceptible for capture later on."
"Though I'm confused still. If I died is there still a possibility for Morgoth to regain his power?"
Gandalf nodded. "The eldest living heir of Numenor carries this power within him. If you die, then the power automatically transfers to your son. If he dies your daughter will get it and so forth. However the prophecy will always ensure that your line never fails. One of your daughters would have to bear this burden if the rest should pass. And it is not wise to do so."
Aragorn glanced at Arwen and saw the troubled look on her face. Surprisingly she spoke up. "Then what do you suggest Mithrandir that we do?"
"We cannot destroy Morgoth as simply as we could with Sauron. All we can do for now is hope that Morgoth turns his gaze away from Aragorn, long enough for him to escape from Minas Tirith unnoticed. It will not be easy."
"We should go and fight him. Defeat his army." Eldarion said. Unqualified in the rules of war, no one could blame the 16-year old for his disastrous plan.
"We can't do that," Aragorn said, "For a start he has some power. He could kill all of us easily."
"Aragorn is right. It is folly to attack Numenor. Besides we won't even be able to get near the place, yet alone into the capital!" Gandalf said.
"Yet did you not say that walking into Mordor was folly?" Frodo asked. "None of you believed that it was possible but Sam and I managed it. We fought our way there and – yes – I failed to renounce the Ring I still made the journey. It was impossible but we got there in the end!"
"You did. But Morgoth's army is bigger then Sauron's. They would converge on us before we could get near the island." Gandalf said. "Before leaving Valinor I spoke long and hard with the elves. They told me that an attack on the island would kill all who attempted it. His army is too strong."
A silence fell round the room. The debate was long and hard. Gimli had listened quietly; he did not feel much like arguing. Just then Faramir stood up and spoke, his voice loud and clear:
"Surely there is a way to destroy Morgoth? He can't be invincible, surely?"
Gandalf bowed his head. He *knew* what had to be done but he refused to yield. He would only do so unless he had no other choice. "As long as the bearer is not captured we have time." That was all he said for now.
With nothing more needed to be discussed Gandalf dismissed the council. He locked himself away in his room and meditated, calling to Valinor for aid, but no help came.
*****
The council was adjourned. Gandalf sat alone in the great hall thinking of the battle that was to come and of the fact that one of his dearest friends was in danger. He had never expected this to come about. Now that it had, the wizard found himself unprepared.
"Mithrandir?"
The soft voice of the Queen startled him from his thoughts and he looked at her; the beauty of the elves radiated from her slim frame. "You never explained about the Knights. You said you'd inform us at the reuniting of the Fellowship."
"I did." Gandalf said. "I will tell you now if you desire it so."
"I do. I wish to know what beasts hunt my husband."
"Morgoth has the ability to create servants from his mind and control them, giving them life as if it was their own. Morgoth created these Knights. They are impossible to kill and they will not deter from their mission until it is complete. They are very powerful and are able to inflict wounds on people that render parts of them useless, like Aragorn's shoulder. When he gave Aragorn that wound, the Knight concentrated on the king's hand, making it unusable. That is the mark of Morgoth. Aragorn is – in a way – bonded to Frodo by his wound. Frodo's wound was delivered by the servants of Sauron; and he drew his power from Morgoth, his dark master. Aragorn has received a Morgul wound, though it affects him differently then it does with Frodo. The Knights now know where Aragorn is but do not dare to attack him in the palace. If Morgoth can be defeated the Knights will lose all their power and the wound that Aragorn sustained will clear up and heal automatically. That is all I know of the Knights, Lady Arwen."
"Hannon le, Mithrandir. You have helped me understand a riddle that I've been focused on for some time." //Thank you, Gandalf//
"It is my pleasure." Gandalf smiled.
*****
//He stood in the center of a circle, sword in hand, and his face sweating from the extortion of battle. His whole body ached. As he stepped forward from the circle a cruel laughter filled his ears and he stopped, standing still, numb from the previous fight.
Then as he stepped forward once more something attacked him, scraping a dagger down his arm. He pulled away from his attacker only to whirl around and see Aragorn launching at him again, anger flaring between his eyes.
Eldarion stepped back as he parried against the rent less blows that descended. He was weakening. Then as he fought Eldarion did the most terrible thing a son could do. He leapt forward when Aragorn raised his blade, and without meaning to the young Prince stabbed the elder man in the chest.
Aragorn's eyes dimmed and he fell dead to the ground, Anduril buried deep in his heart//
His fingers tangled in the sheets and Eldarion woke fighting to remember what he'd done. As he woke memory came back. His racing heart failed to slow and all he could think was: I killed my father. I killed my father.
The young Prince tangled his fingers in his hair brushing the strands from his face. He breathed deeply.
"Eld?"
He jumped when he heard Ancalimé's voice. He had been ordered to sleep in the same room to protect her in case of another attack.
"Yeah?" he answered, rubbing tired eyes.
"You shouted. Are you okay?" she replied, and the Prince could see fear littering across her features.
"I'm fine," he said. "It's was just a dream. Go back to sleep."
The younger replied and laid back down to sleep, yet the Prince could not believe what he'd just dreamt and he found it hard to ignore the pounding in his heart as he sat up in the darkness.
It was just a dream, he reminded himself, nothing to be afraid of. Just a dream.
Soon he fell asleep once more untroubled by the dream he'd had.
TBC
Well what do you think? Next up we have the elf council on Valinor. I've decided to post chapter 5 on Wednesday because its really short. Chapter 6 will be loaded on Saturday. Until next time, Namárië!
~Chapter 4~
~The Fellowship Reunited~
Aragorn groaned as consciousness slowly returned to embrace his body with pain. Intense agony swept up his right arm and into his shoulder before dwindling and vanishing altogether. His eyes were unfocused as he tried to wake.
A cool hand found its way onto his head and he jerked spasmodically trying to escape.
"Hush, my love. Do not struggle. Go back to sleep." A soft elvish voice commanded.
Slowly he found his eyes sliding shut once more and darkness take him.
Arwen looked lovingly at her sleeping husband. She had very nearly lost him only a few hours ago. She could not bear to know their family could've been scattered. She had yet to know the reason behind Gandalf and Frodo's return. She was content to wait while her husband recovered.
The wound he had sustained hadn't been poisonous – thankfully – but it would mean he'd be unable to use his sword-arm. It had rendered it useless. Gandalf had explained that the Knights mean to come and retrieve Aragorn, yet it would be easier for them if he could not fight. He could still use his arm, but his fingers refused to hold anything. The wound had caused his hand to go numb because of what the beast had done when biting into him.
All Gandalf had said was that dark magic was at work here, something that no healer would be able to heal in Middle-Earth. He did say that over a period of time the King's hand would heal but for the present it was useless.
It was another day before Aragorn awoke once more and graced the room with his presence. Arwen sat beside him, a gentle hand running through his hair. He moaned softly at the touch.
As he woke memories came back to him of that night. A sharp stinging pain ran up his arm, eating at him. He jerked nearly sending Arwen from the bed.
"Stop my love. There is nothing to harm you here. It is I, Arwen."
Her soothing words calmed him and his hazy mind slowly cleared allowing him to open his eyes. "Is this a dream?" he asked.
"No. You are in Minas Tirith in the Houses of Healing." Arwen replied. "Wake up Estel."
"Did something happen that I think happened?"
Arwen looked slightly confused. "You don't remember?"
He shook his head. "It seems so unbelievable...but judging by the look on your face I can see that what I think has happened did. I mean, flying through the air, and then Orcs and boats, and Gandalf? It was real, was it not? And I have a wound which I did not have before."
"All those things happened unfortunately. If it hadn't been for Mithrandir you would be, well, in the hands of that enemy."
Aragorn sighed thoughtfully. "It seems that Faramir's assumption was correct. Remind me to not go in sunlight or moonlight. Those things know. Tell me why is Mithrandir here? I thought he had sailed West years ago."
"He did but he comes back. All we know is that some evil is out in the west. He came with Frodo and the other hobbits. He has called for Legolas and Gimli. The Fellowship must reunite, he says. Yet he refuses to divulge what he knows."
"We'll find out his reasons soon enough I expect."
"I fear Estel. I fear our children will be unsafe in this wide world. If there is a war coming, how can we hope to protect them? I would never let you go off into battle."
"I know." Aragorn said. "I know. Do not worry yourself. We will discuss that issue if war ever comes to our borders again."
Arwen took hold of his hand and kissed it. "Rest Estel. We have a lot of work to do after you recover. It is time for you to sleep." She watched, a sad smile on her face, as Aragorn fell deeply asleep, as the darkness claimed him.
*****
It was almost a day later that Aragorn was deemed well enough to rise from bed. His wound still ached, and his hand numb, but he felt ready to hold counsel. The good news was that Legolas and Gimli had arrived in the middle of the night and seeing the mess the creature had made of the tower of Minas Tirith had demanded an explanation, but Gandalf had told them to be patient. And so a long night had been spent trying to entertain the dwarf.
Talk bustled round the city of the King's unexpected kidnap and his return though it seemed Gandalf and the 'flying creature' as the woman put it, was the main source of chatter and talk, and soon tales were flying through the city of a heroic battle on the harbour, though no one actually knew the true story of what had happened between Gandalf and the 'flying creature'.
In the afternoon Gandalf called a council that was to consist of the members of the Fellowship, but Arwen, Faramir, Éowyn and Eldarion were also bidden to attend. None save Gandalf and Frodo knew what was going on, and the others waited patiently for the white wizard to arrive with his young charge.
Presently the doors to the King's throne room were pushed open and in stepped Gandalf with Frodo walking behind him. The doors were shut and bolted, and guards posted outside the door. No one was to disturb them for anything.
Once everyone was seated in a circle, sitting in big, cushioned chairs, Gandalf began his tale. He explained about the First Age and the war between Melkor (Morgoth) and the first elves and men, and how it ended with the intervention of the Valar. Then he spoke of Morgoth's imprisonment, and how he suspected him to have escaped. It was here when he mentioned the probability that there was a prophecy that Legolas intervened and spoke on behalf of these facts.
"I heard a long time ago of a dark whisper in the wind. It said that even when evil was defeated it would rise again from the ashes bringing with it the doom of Valinor. I was reluctant to believe this. I was searching in my father's halls after he left and discovered something rather curious. There was an old poem, which I could not read myself, yet my councillor could. It was set on a rusty piece of yellow paper rolled up and stashed away in the furthest corners of my father's halls. My councillor translated it as this or to what he thought it to be:
'For any reason I am stripped of my power, it will be said that I will return with full strength when the last of my servants fail to take this world as their own, and if they succeed, I will be released, and serve them until my power is found.'
"Then he faltered. It took him a while to translate the next part but he did."
''And he that holds the Numenorean power will be instrumental in the fall of Middle-Earth. But the fate of the true one is to be death, for when the power is to be restored to its rightful bearer, the Numenorean's will wane, wither and die. And the true power in this world will be known. Everything will come to darkness, and all will bow before us.'
Legolas paused looking into each member's eyes before continuing. "I cannot understand some of the terms. I asked myself 'was it translated properly?' yet I do not doubt my councillor's skill with languages. But this confuses me. Does these words mean now? Are we related to it?"
The elf once more cast a glance about the room and then sat down in his chair; Gimli looking at him puzzled by the complication of it all.
Gandalf stood stepping into the middle. "What you spoke is correct Legolas though I few minor words are mistranslated. However, coming back to my point on these prophecies. Morgoth and Sauron made them during their time in this world. The words they spoke are bonded forever in the music of Ainur. Nothing can prevent him from rising." Here Gandalf spoke of the Rising of Numenor and the Valar's decision to send Gandalf back to Middle- Earth. "Yet Morgoth has not attacked Middle-Earth or Valinor for a reason. He needs one more piece to accomplish his full strength. And that is the bearer of the Numenorean power."
"It's me, isn't it?" Aragorn said, "I'm the one he is hunting, which explains the attacks. And what that thing said to me before we came to the Orcs."
"You did not mention that!" Gandalf exclaimed.
"I did not think I needed to." Mumbled Aragorn. "This is what it said to me 'It would be wise for you to cease your struggle heir of Numenor. It would not please my master if you were damaged beyond repair.' I was confused. I did not think much more of it."
Gandalf stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Hmm, it would explain the beasts hesitation when chasing us. It seemed reluctant to harm you. Yet it bit into your shoulder. I can see why it did. Morgoth needs you alive; as long as you breathe he will not care if you are injured, yet it is not life threatening. I am correct in assuming that the beast inserted some of its dark power into your arm, rendering your hand useless, making you more susceptible for capture later on."
"Though I'm confused still. If I died is there still a possibility for Morgoth to regain his power?"
Gandalf nodded. "The eldest living heir of Numenor carries this power within him. If you die, then the power automatically transfers to your son. If he dies your daughter will get it and so forth. However the prophecy will always ensure that your line never fails. One of your daughters would have to bear this burden if the rest should pass. And it is not wise to do so."
Aragorn glanced at Arwen and saw the troubled look on her face. Surprisingly she spoke up. "Then what do you suggest Mithrandir that we do?"
"We cannot destroy Morgoth as simply as we could with Sauron. All we can do for now is hope that Morgoth turns his gaze away from Aragorn, long enough for him to escape from Minas Tirith unnoticed. It will not be easy."
"We should go and fight him. Defeat his army." Eldarion said. Unqualified in the rules of war, no one could blame the 16-year old for his disastrous plan.
"We can't do that," Aragorn said, "For a start he has some power. He could kill all of us easily."
"Aragorn is right. It is folly to attack Numenor. Besides we won't even be able to get near the place, yet alone into the capital!" Gandalf said.
"Yet did you not say that walking into Mordor was folly?" Frodo asked. "None of you believed that it was possible but Sam and I managed it. We fought our way there and – yes – I failed to renounce the Ring I still made the journey. It was impossible but we got there in the end!"
"You did. But Morgoth's army is bigger then Sauron's. They would converge on us before we could get near the island." Gandalf said. "Before leaving Valinor I spoke long and hard with the elves. They told me that an attack on the island would kill all who attempted it. His army is too strong."
A silence fell round the room. The debate was long and hard. Gimli had listened quietly; he did not feel much like arguing. Just then Faramir stood up and spoke, his voice loud and clear:
"Surely there is a way to destroy Morgoth? He can't be invincible, surely?"
Gandalf bowed his head. He *knew* what had to be done but he refused to yield. He would only do so unless he had no other choice. "As long as the bearer is not captured we have time." That was all he said for now.
With nothing more needed to be discussed Gandalf dismissed the council. He locked himself away in his room and meditated, calling to Valinor for aid, but no help came.
*****
The council was adjourned. Gandalf sat alone in the great hall thinking of the battle that was to come and of the fact that one of his dearest friends was in danger. He had never expected this to come about. Now that it had, the wizard found himself unprepared.
"Mithrandir?"
The soft voice of the Queen startled him from his thoughts and he looked at her; the beauty of the elves radiated from her slim frame. "You never explained about the Knights. You said you'd inform us at the reuniting of the Fellowship."
"I did." Gandalf said. "I will tell you now if you desire it so."
"I do. I wish to know what beasts hunt my husband."
"Morgoth has the ability to create servants from his mind and control them, giving them life as if it was their own. Morgoth created these Knights. They are impossible to kill and they will not deter from their mission until it is complete. They are very powerful and are able to inflict wounds on people that render parts of them useless, like Aragorn's shoulder. When he gave Aragorn that wound, the Knight concentrated on the king's hand, making it unusable. That is the mark of Morgoth. Aragorn is – in a way – bonded to Frodo by his wound. Frodo's wound was delivered by the servants of Sauron; and he drew his power from Morgoth, his dark master. Aragorn has received a Morgul wound, though it affects him differently then it does with Frodo. The Knights now know where Aragorn is but do not dare to attack him in the palace. If Morgoth can be defeated the Knights will lose all their power and the wound that Aragorn sustained will clear up and heal automatically. That is all I know of the Knights, Lady Arwen."
"Hannon le, Mithrandir. You have helped me understand a riddle that I've been focused on for some time." //Thank you, Gandalf//
"It is my pleasure." Gandalf smiled.
*****
//He stood in the center of a circle, sword in hand, and his face sweating from the extortion of battle. His whole body ached. As he stepped forward from the circle a cruel laughter filled his ears and he stopped, standing still, numb from the previous fight.
Then as he stepped forward once more something attacked him, scraping a dagger down his arm. He pulled away from his attacker only to whirl around and see Aragorn launching at him again, anger flaring between his eyes.
Eldarion stepped back as he parried against the rent less blows that descended. He was weakening. Then as he fought Eldarion did the most terrible thing a son could do. He leapt forward when Aragorn raised his blade, and without meaning to the young Prince stabbed the elder man in the chest.
Aragorn's eyes dimmed and he fell dead to the ground, Anduril buried deep in his heart//
His fingers tangled in the sheets and Eldarion woke fighting to remember what he'd done. As he woke memory came back. His racing heart failed to slow and all he could think was: I killed my father. I killed my father.
The young Prince tangled his fingers in his hair brushing the strands from his face. He breathed deeply.
"Eld?"
He jumped when he heard Ancalimé's voice. He had been ordered to sleep in the same room to protect her in case of another attack.
"Yeah?" he answered, rubbing tired eyes.
"You shouted. Are you okay?" she replied, and the Prince could see fear littering across her features.
"I'm fine," he said. "It's was just a dream. Go back to sleep."
The younger replied and laid back down to sleep, yet the Prince could not believe what he'd just dreamt and he found it hard to ignore the pounding in his heart as he sat up in the darkness.
It was just a dream, he reminded himself, nothing to be afraid of. Just a dream.
Soon he fell asleep once more untroubled by the dream he'd had.
TBC
Well what do you think? Next up we have the elf council on Valinor. I've decided to post chapter 5 on Wednesday because its really short. Chapter 6 will be loaded on Saturday. Until next time, Namárië!