Chapter 2
Gaia climbed to her feet and swept her dress to the side, she was not a fan of dresses and this one was getting in the way. She was confused, yet ready. She was ready for what ever would come her way. She turned around in a circle and looked at her surroundings. Her hair flowed behind her. The only thing in sight was the gleaming white city. She felt prepared yet helpless in a sense. She did not know where to turn. She hated feeling helpless. She once again directed her mind to the amulet. She stared at the amulet in wonder. At once a brilliant light began to shine through the amulet, a blinding neon light. Gaia felt weak. Her knees began to shake and she felt the energy flee her body and flow into the amulet. She slumped to the ground in a silent faint. The amulet still shined with a brilliant white light.
earlier that morning
Legolas allowed his eyes to flicker open. He had fallen asleep in the early morning by the king's bedside, and Aragorn was still sleeping. Being a man, Aragorn needed much more sleep then Legolas, being immortal, did. He stood up; his back cramped from sleeping half way under the bed though the night. Legolas gazed at the king. He slept with his eye brows wrinkled, pushed together fiercely. A stronger sun from the window poured into his eyes. He walked back to the chamber that he should have slept in the night before, deeply engrossed in his mind. How could he have told Aragorn his family had died? What had he been thinking? Then again, how could Legolas not have said anything? From the moment he saw Aragorn, his stomach had turned into a bottomless pit. He felt weighted with the burden of what he had seen and felt. It was better to tell Aragorn. Unlike Legolas, Aragorn had only his mortal life to live, so his sorrow would not last him an eternity. At least Aragorn had found love, he thought. At least he knew what it was like to feel loved, and now that Arwen had died did not have to spend an eternity dwelling on her death. Legolas had lost his companion He had left a land of eternal peace for this. He had seen the cold dead bodies of the beautiful elven princess and her small child. It was a sight that he would soon not forget. Legolas would never find a way to rid his mind of this terrible image.
He allowed his thoughts to wander more as he dipped his hand into a wooden bucket and splashed water upon his face. The cold water stung his eyes. It dripped alongside his cheek and down off his chin. His thoughts turned once again to Arwen. He knew the elven magic of what she alone had tried to do. Arwen was going to sacrifice herself to save the whole of Middle Earth, but she had been killed in the process. Unbeknownst to Aragorn, she had left him knowing that she was going to kill herself. Blood, only her blood would have made the magic work. It would have completed the spell. She could have killed these creatures, these ash demons, but she had failed.
Legolas still remembered the day he found them vividly. He and Gimli had been cautiously walking though the golden woods. The woods were no longer the beautiful and mystical sanctuary they had once been; no birds flew between the trees, singing their soft beautiful music. They trees suffered with out the prayers of the elves to help them grow; they withered. Legolas and Gimli had come across a clearing of the trees. Crumpled leaves had blanketed the ground and they sun danced off them. Two glowing figures sat in the middle of the clearing, but what they were, Legolas and Gimli could not tell. At that moment in time, Legolas heard a rustle thought the leaves, and he sensed something. Something was coming. The figures sat within the back of his mind, becoming clearer and clearer by the second. That was the moment where he should have spoken, said something to Gimli, yet he kept his mouth closed. He and the dwarf slowly approached the figures. Their footsteps had treaded lightly upon the broken leaves that coated the ground. Legolas looked down and his eyes absorbed the horror before him. The sight of their mangled bodies was more than Legolas could bear to remember. It seemed that the bodies had been laying there over an elongated period of time. Earth, wind, and rain had eating away at their corpses. Legolas had gingerly bent over Arwen's body, and his eyes had widened in shock. There was no blood. Their broken bodies were covered in long deep slashes, but there was no blood to be seen. They seemed dry; there was nothing to them. Arwen's once glowing skin was pale, paler than he had ever seen. Her eyes were open; the misty pools of blue- gray stared at him in wonder. Her son stared at him too, with large speculating eyes. Decapitated and mangled their bodies were, yet they had an un-earthy glow about them. The figures in the back of Legolas's mind began to hurt; ache. Legolas looked in wonder at the mother and child, not knowing what to do, but Gimli on the other hand reached out his hand and grasped the child's shoulder roughly. The immortal's eyes rolled in to the back of his head and a cry escaped his lips. The figures in his mind were clear, and they were approaching quickly. Pain surged through his brain. At once, the gentle wind began to pick up, and leaves swirled around them. Leaves, dirt and dead grass obscured their vision. The flying partials of earth began to take form, clumping together to form shapes. Creatures, horribly deformed creatures, floated in front of them. With an immense pain in his head, Legolas had grabbed Arwen and her son into his arms and ran; he ran for his life. These creatures he could not kill, he could only run like a mad man. Legolas collapsed in the shadows of the clearing. He turned and suddenly realized that Gimli was not behind him. Gimli was surrounded by thousands and thousands of these creatures, and more creatures kept forming. Legolas could see through them. He cried to Gimli, cried out for him to run, but his words were lost in the wind Gimli lifted his axe high in the air and swung it into the heart of one of the demons. However, the demon did not die. The axe simply traveled through him. The creature whom Gimli had tried to kill lifted his great wings and beat them fiercely- once twice, three times. He pulled back an immensely clawed arm and swung it at Gimli with all his might; once single swipe. Legolas watched from the shadows as his companion's life fled his body and Gimli fell to the ground. He crumpled, his face still in shock. Legolas's eyes burned. Legolas saw Gimli through his wet eyes. He was oozing blood through multiple wounds, all of which were long slashes. The demons formed a closer circle around Gimli. Legolas tried to move, to save Gimli from this fate, but his body hurt too much. Legolas had too fallen into a crumpled pile, but he had fallen from the pain. He was holding his head in agony, tears streaming down his face, though no sound came from his lips. The wind began to swirl faster than it had before around Gimli and the creatures. Legolas watched in horror as the wind turned into a crimson red. The demons allowed themselves to be taken with the wind. Legolas's head stopped pounding at once. His mind had no shadows in the back of it. The tears stopped spilling. He shakingly got up and slowly tread over to Gimli, with little hope remaining in his heart. He looked down. Gimli looked as Arwen and her son had: pale, with eyes wide in shock. Gimli looked frozen and fresh. His red hair stood out against his skin; his now pale dead skin. Legolas felt despair. Using his bare hands, Legolas dug into the earth. The ground was cold and hard. It was dead like the bodies that were to be locked into it. Legolas's hands hurt, the cold dry dirt stung them. His hands blead. He carefully placed the three bodies into the ground; not once flinching, not once crying. He placed Arwen's arms around her child, so she could hold him and protect him, even in death. He covered their bodies with the earth he had dug up. He placed three large stones from the river on to the three mounds of earth while silently whispering an elvish prayer, asking for the souls to be protected. He climbed to his feet and stood back. Three mounds were sitting in the ground, unmoving and undisturbed. They stood out against the rest of the cold dead earth, yet it seamed to fit. Legolas felt his eyes going hazy and he realized that yes, perhaps the scene in front of him did fit after all. His eyes rolled up and he fell into a dead sleep. Hours later he awoke. He wondered where he was and what had happened, but then he turned around and saw the three piles of dug up earth. He remembered. Still in a daze, he turned around swiftly and began the long journey north to the city of Minas Tirith, with out ever once looking back. He felt that he had failed his mission before it had barley begun.
Legolas came out of his memories and back to the present again. He began to think about his tears. Why had he cried that day? Had he cried for Arwen and her child? For Gimli? Had he cried for the physical or for the mental pain? He still did not know. All at once a blinding light hit his eyes. Brighter than any he had ever seen. He pulled his tunic back over his head and scrambled out the door of the chambers; His golden mane flying behind him. He climbed up to the balcony and stretched his legs by skipping two steps at a time. He stopped at the top of the stair to catch his breath. Legolas walked over to the balcony and placed his hand on the edge of the balcony. He looked over it. The light was coming from the field. What it was coming from he could not tell, but it glowed from the center of the plain. In curiosity he clambered down to the stables and untied a strong black stallion. He removed the horse's sattle and swung over its side. He began to ride out to the light. He whispered to the horse in elvish to ride strong and fast. The villagers of the city stared at Legolas in wonder, for none of them saw the light. They wondered why he was riding toward the empty plane in such a hurry. What could make the immortal spring to his feet like that?
Legolas closed his eyes. The light was too strong. At last the horse stopped its gallop. In a blind daze, Legolas reached his hands out into the center of the light, groping. The light died down as his pale hands made contact with another form. He flickered his eyes open and stared at the body in front of him. It was a woman; more beautiful than any he had ever seen. He pulled her body closer and stared at her in wonder; his blue eyes never once blinking. Her ebony hair spilled onto him. She was not dead, no. Her body was warm. Legolas grasped her wrist and felt a steady pulse beating through her fair skin. She was unconscious. Her long dark lashes touched together. He gathered her body into a cradle shape and gingerly raised her off he ground. Her gown flowed behind her. While still holding her he jumped on the horse and set off with all speed back to the village. He did not notice a ripple in the front of her dress. It concealed a magical amulet that hung limply on a silver chain.
Gaia climbed to her feet and swept her dress to the side, she was not a fan of dresses and this one was getting in the way. She was confused, yet ready. She was ready for what ever would come her way. She turned around in a circle and looked at her surroundings. Her hair flowed behind her. The only thing in sight was the gleaming white city. She felt prepared yet helpless in a sense. She did not know where to turn. She hated feeling helpless. She once again directed her mind to the amulet. She stared at the amulet in wonder. At once a brilliant light began to shine through the amulet, a blinding neon light. Gaia felt weak. Her knees began to shake and she felt the energy flee her body and flow into the amulet. She slumped to the ground in a silent faint. The amulet still shined with a brilliant white light.
earlier that morning
Legolas allowed his eyes to flicker open. He had fallen asleep in the early morning by the king's bedside, and Aragorn was still sleeping. Being a man, Aragorn needed much more sleep then Legolas, being immortal, did. He stood up; his back cramped from sleeping half way under the bed though the night. Legolas gazed at the king. He slept with his eye brows wrinkled, pushed together fiercely. A stronger sun from the window poured into his eyes. He walked back to the chamber that he should have slept in the night before, deeply engrossed in his mind. How could he have told Aragorn his family had died? What had he been thinking? Then again, how could Legolas not have said anything? From the moment he saw Aragorn, his stomach had turned into a bottomless pit. He felt weighted with the burden of what he had seen and felt. It was better to tell Aragorn. Unlike Legolas, Aragorn had only his mortal life to live, so his sorrow would not last him an eternity. At least Aragorn had found love, he thought. At least he knew what it was like to feel loved, and now that Arwen had died did not have to spend an eternity dwelling on her death. Legolas had lost his companion He had left a land of eternal peace for this. He had seen the cold dead bodies of the beautiful elven princess and her small child. It was a sight that he would soon not forget. Legolas would never find a way to rid his mind of this terrible image.
He allowed his thoughts to wander more as he dipped his hand into a wooden bucket and splashed water upon his face. The cold water stung his eyes. It dripped alongside his cheek and down off his chin. His thoughts turned once again to Arwen. He knew the elven magic of what she alone had tried to do. Arwen was going to sacrifice herself to save the whole of Middle Earth, but she had been killed in the process. Unbeknownst to Aragorn, she had left him knowing that she was going to kill herself. Blood, only her blood would have made the magic work. It would have completed the spell. She could have killed these creatures, these ash demons, but she had failed.
Legolas still remembered the day he found them vividly. He and Gimli had been cautiously walking though the golden woods. The woods were no longer the beautiful and mystical sanctuary they had once been; no birds flew between the trees, singing their soft beautiful music. They trees suffered with out the prayers of the elves to help them grow; they withered. Legolas and Gimli had come across a clearing of the trees. Crumpled leaves had blanketed the ground and they sun danced off them. Two glowing figures sat in the middle of the clearing, but what they were, Legolas and Gimli could not tell. At that moment in time, Legolas heard a rustle thought the leaves, and he sensed something. Something was coming. The figures sat within the back of his mind, becoming clearer and clearer by the second. That was the moment where he should have spoken, said something to Gimli, yet he kept his mouth closed. He and the dwarf slowly approached the figures. Their footsteps had treaded lightly upon the broken leaves that coated the ground. Legolas looked down and his eyes absorbed the horror before him. The sight of their mangled bodies was more than Legolas could bear to remember. It seemed that the bodies had been laying there over an elongated period of time. Earth, wind, and rain had eating away at their corpses. Legolas had gingerly bent over Arwen's body, and his eyes had widened in shock. There was no blood. Their broken bodies were covered in long deep slashes, but there was no blood to be seen. They seemed dry; there was nothing to them. Arwen's once glowing skin was pale, paler than he had ever seen. Her eyes were open; the misty pools of blue- gray stared at him in wonder. Her son stared at him too, with large speculating eyes. Decapitated and mangled their bodies were, yet they had an un-earthy glow about them. The figures in the back of Legolas's mind began to hurt; ache. Legolas looked in wonder at the mother and child, not knowing what to do, but Gimli on the other hand reached out his hand and grasped the child's shoulder roughly. The immortal's eyes rolled in to the back of his head and a cry escaped his lips. The figures in his mind were clear, and they were approaching quickly. Pain surged through his brain. At once, the gentle wind began to pick up, and leaves swirled around them. Leaves, dirt and dead grass obscured their vision. The flying partials of earth began to take form, clumping together to form shapes. Creatures, horribly deformed creatures, floated in front of them. With an immense pain in his head, Legolas had grabbed Arwen and her son into his arms and ran; he ran for his life. These creatures he could not kill, he could only run like a mad man. Legolas collapsed in the shadows of the clearing. He turned and suddenly realized that Gimli was not behind him. Gimli was surrounded by thousands and thousands of these creatures, and more creatures kept forming. Legolas could see through them. He cried to Gimli, cried out for him to run, but his words were lost in the wind Gimli lifted his axe high in the air and swung it into the heart of one of the demons. However, the demon did not die. The axe simply traveled through him. The creature whom Gimli had tried to kill lifted his great wings and beat them fiercely- once twice, three times. He pulled back an immensely clawed arm and swung it at Gimli with all his might; once single swipe. Legolas watched from the shadows as his companion's life fled his body and Gimli fell to the ground. He crumpled, his face still in shock. Legolas's eyes burned. Legolas saw Gimli through his wet eyes. He was oozing blood through multiple wounds, all of which were long slashes. The demons formed a closer circle around Gimli. Legolas tried to move, to save Gimli from this fate, but his body hurt too much. Legolas had too fallen into a crumpled pile, but he had fallen from the pain. He was holding his head in agony, tears streaming down his face, though no sound came from his lips. The wind began to swirl faster than it had before around Gimli and the creatures. Legolas watched in horror as the wind turned into a crimson red. The demons allowed themselves to be taken with the wind. Legolas's head stopped pounding at once. His mind had no shadows in the back of it. The tears stopped spilling. He shakingly got up and slowly tread over to Gimli, with little hope remaining in his heart. He looked down. Gimli looked as Arwen and her son had: pale, with eyes wide in shock. Gimli looked frozen and fresh. His red hair stood out against his skin; his now pale dead skin. Legolas felt despair. Using his bare hands, Legolas dug into the earth. The ground was cold and hard. It was dead like the bodies that were to be locked into it. Legolas's hands hurt, the cold dry dirt stung them. His hands blead. He carefully placed the three bodies into the ground; not once flinching, not once crying. He placed Arwen's arms around her child, so she could hold him and protect him, even in death. He covered their bodies with the earth he had dug up. He placed three large stones from the river on to the three mounds of earth while silently whispering an elvish prayer, asking for the souls to be protected. He climbed to his feet and stood back. Three mounds were sitting in the ground, unmoving and undisturbed. They stood out against the rest of the cold dead earth, yet it seamed to fit. Legolas felt his eyes going hazy and he realized that yes, perhaps the scene in front of him did fit after all. His eyes rolled up and he fell into a dead sleep. Hours later he awoke. He wondered where he was and what had happened, but then he turned around and saw the three piles of dug up earth. He remembered. Still in a daze, he turned around swiftly and began the long journey north to the city of Minas Tirith, with out ever once looking back. He felt that he had failed his mission before it had barley begun.
Legolas came out of his memories and back to the present again. He began to think about his tears. Why had he cried that day? Had he cried for Arwen and her child? For Gimli? Had he cried for the physical or for the mental pain? He still did not know. All at once a blinding light hit his eyes. Brighter than any he had ever seen. He pulled his tunic back over his head and scrambled out the door of the chambers; His golden mane flying behind him. He climbed up to the balcony and stretched his legs by skipping two steps at a time. He stopped at the top of the stair to catch his breath. Legolas walked over to the balcony and placed his hand on the edge of the balcony. He looked over it. The light was coming from the field. What it was coming from he could not tell, but it glowed from the center of the plain. In curiosity he clambered down to the stables and untied a strong black stallion. He removed the horse's sattle and swung over its side. He began to ride out to the light. He whispered to the horse in elvish to ride strong and fast. The villagers of the city stared at Legolas in wonder, for none of them saw the light. They wondered why he was riding toward the empty plane in such a hurry. What could make the immortal spring to his feet like that?
Legolas closed his eyes. The light was too strong. At last the horse stopped its gallop. In a blind daze, Legolas reached his hands out into the center of the light, groping. The light died down as his pale hands made contact with another form. He flickered his eyes open and stared at the body in front of him. It was a woman; more beautiful than any he had ever seen. He pulled her body closer and stared at her in wonder; his blue eyes never once blinking. Her ebony hair spilled onto him. She was not dead, no. Her body was warm. Legolas grasped her wrist and felt a steady pulse beating through her fair skin. She was unconscious. Her long dark lashes touched together. He gathered her body into a cradle shape and gingerly raised her off he ground. Her gown flowed behind her. While still holding her he jumped on the horse and set off with all speed back to the village. He did not notice a ripple in the front of her dress. It concealed a magical amulet that hung limply on a silver chain.