This is the second chapter to my story, obviously. I really do like the idea, but I hope that the story gets a bit more notice. I'm drawing a bit of a blank for the beginning, but I'll try to make it as great as possible. I promise, I suppose. I'll be including more of the other characters later on in the story. It's kind of hard, but I hope that I can manage it all. It's actually really fun to write, but it gets slightly tiring sometimes, but then I remember that I'm not doing this for anyone, but me... I'm sorry if there are any mistakes, I do not have a beta-reader. If you have any questions or if anyone can possibly beta-read for me, check out my email in my profile. I seriously hope that I do not tire from writing this story. A lot of writers rarely update their works, and I just don't want to end up like that. Please, don't forget to review!
Chapter2
The Radiance in the Night
A bell rang loudly through the halls of the historical building, signaling the beginning of the lunch period. Aragorn's mind was in a flurry, as it usually was these days. He walked next to Eomer who was talking animatedly. The two were searching for Boromir and Legolas. They were in the middle of the student counter flow, most of them hurrying of to eat their lunch. It didn't take very long to find their other friends.
...Galbrannon...Cenedril...Enethui Rodon...Farastosi... How had he seen this? Did he truly have the Vision? If he did, when would this vision actually occur? Aragorn put his hand to his forehead, shaking it in exasperation. Eomer didn't seem to notice.
"...Do you think I passed Gashdin's test? I barely had time to study for it... I was going to cram before classes started, yet tracking down and beating up Wormtongue took longer than I actually expected..." Eomer continued blathering, "...I didn't know the answer to probably nine or ten of the questions in the whole bloody test, but really, do you think that I'll ever need any knowledge about Home Economics in my entire life?"
"Well, you won't if you want to set your kitchen on fire or give your guests food poisoning," a new voice ribbed Eomer. It was Boromir, strutting over to them, with his usual cocky self. Legolas trudged soon after, seeming a bit miffed.
"What's wrong with you Legolas?" asked Eomer, noticing his friend's unhappy disposition, "Did one of the girls in your class copy your hairstyle?"
Eomer and Boromir were sent into fits of giggles. Legolas shot him a glare as they walked to the lunch hall, "I highly doubt that Eomer," His voice was of steel, "We had Elrond as a substitute for Math and he gave us this brutal speed drill. My mind is sore from all the computations!" groaned Legolas as he rubbed his head.
"Oh, well I had a free period," said Boromir, they entered the lunch hall and lined up for their food, "I saw Wormtongue scurrying of to the Nurse's Office, Merry and Pippin sneaking into the school's food supply, and Elladan and Elrohir rigging the auditorium for some future prank of theirs."
None of them noticed Aragorn's silence. It happened often that Aragorn did not wish to talk or simply notice them. His current behavior wasn't classified as unusual, since it happened every so often.
The line gradually grew shorter and the four had gotten their food. Now, being well-known students in their level, yet without any title to perfectly suit them, they had their own table at lunch. It was one of the tables that had no name, for it could not be named. They weren't the extremely popular ones, neither we they the outcasts of society. The four headed for 'The Table.'
"Hey, did I tell you already that my sister is coming to study here?" asked Eomer as they settled into a table with their lunch at hand. He sat next to Boromir who sat across Aragorn who sat next to Legolas.
"Oh, yeah, I've told Aragorn already." grunted Boromir after he took a large swig from his cup, "Speaking of which, my brother's also coming to study here. That puny, little, runt worked his ass off to get those good grades! If only I could aspire to work as hard as him." Boromir sniggered.
"Boromir, you may not work hard on your schooling, but the same lethargy cannot be said when it comes to the ladies," muttered Eomer, "Even if the results are not as fruitful as your brother's grades."
A round of laughter passed, "I got the charm he's got the brains. What can I say?" Boromir smirked and shrugged his shoulders. A distant snort was heard shortly after.
"So, you're happy for him?" asked Legolas, Boromir shrugged then nodded. Legolas picked into his food, "Do Faramir and Eowyn even know each other? We've been friends for so long, and our relatives are hardly aware of that... Aren't they the same age anyway?"
"I believe that Eowyn is younger than Faramir," answered Eomer, he swiveled to Boromir and his face turned suspicious, "Why? Are you or your brother planning anything! I'll have you know that Eowyn is way too young to have a relationship with any of you, not even your brother Boromir!" He hissed over protectively, "I will wring your throats if you so much as think of my sister in any way, excluding the thoughts of her being my sister and a good, little girl!" They laughed, but could clearly tell that he was dead serious.
"Like that would ever happen," snorted Boromir, "Faramir may be smart, but he's a real idiot when it comes to people, much less women. I believe his social life revolves around us four and his library," shrugged Boromir, "But anyway, Aragorn, dude," He began, after a 'soft' belch, "What was with you in Caspaius's lecture?" He asked, finally noticing his friend's silence. His outspoken reaction was quite atypical from his detached behavior.
Legolas and Eomer looked at him inquiringly, "Yeah, how did you know about all that stuff she was talking about?" asked Eomer.
He scrutinized the imperatively, "If I tell you, you guys will laugh," His voice was stiff and stringent.
Legolas snorted exasperatedly, "Oh come on Aragorn!" he let out a laugh. Legolas asked Aragorn "Does it really matter if we laugh at you? I mean, I thought that all of us were cool with the laughing matter..."
"Yeah," His voice was strangely weak, "But this is serious. I don't even know a thing about why I'm acting like this!" He scratched his head and refused to touch his unappetizing food, "It's just that... I had a dream." This matter was something that he didn't want his friends to laugh over.
"Aragorn," Boromir's voice was flat, and he kept it serious, "We already know about that dream you had," He stifled a snicker.
"You do?"
"Yeah, that night you stayed at my house, Faramir and I caught the entire thing on tape," Aragorn's jaw dropped as the words dribbled out of Boromir's mouth, "We know all about that little conversation we had with that... woman," He broke out in laughter as the strangled look on Aragorn's face intensified, "I quote Aragorn when I say this," His voice became melodramatic, "'I wish this dream to never end. I wish that this night be as eternal as the sun's radiant glow. I wish to walk in your blissful company for all the ages that this world will endure,' unquote."
Legolas and Eomer broke into laughter, yet Aragorn tightened his jaw and balled his hands into fists. He had never said that to her, he had only thought it... "Please tell me that you have copies of that tape, Boromir!" Eomer said in between sorts and guffaws.
Boromir replied, "Just one or two," the tension in Aragorn's face lessened, "Dozen..."
"See, this is why I don't want to tell you a thing about what I had dreamt about!" hissed Aragorn, "And it wasn't that! It was something else... She has nothing to do with anything that went on in Caspaius's class!" he scowled at each one of them.
Legolas peered at him with his eyebrow raised, "So, who is this girl?"
"That's beside the point Legolas!"
"Yeah, but who is she?"
"Why do you want to know so much?"
"Why don't you want us to know so much?"
"...Because I don't know who she is...!"
"Wait a second! There's this girl who you've been dreaming about, for who knows how long, and you don't even know her name?" asked Eomer incredulously, eyeing Aragorn as Legolas had done awhile ago. Aragorn gave him an exasperated look, "Just checking to make sure..." muttered Eomer, "At least we know that you know how to take care of a lady..."
The three laughed once more at that statement, as Aragorn buried his face in his arms, "Now you know the reason why I avoid telling you anything that has any personal value to me."
Groaned Aragorn as their laughing died down.
"Fine Aragorn," Boromir's voice was steady, "We'll stop laughing, and we promise that we will try the hardest to remain as serious as humanly possible."
"Alright, if you guys really do want to know about what had happened, I'll tell you, but you have to promise to shut up," He made them swear, and they did, "Like I said, I had a dream last night. It wasn't one of my usual dreams," a soft snigger was heard from Eomer's direction, "But I still remembered it clearly, as I do my other dreams. I saw some sort of hall, or perhaps a temple. There were these two beings; the man was called Galbrannon, the woman, Cenedril. The hall was shaking and it was falling to its demise. The man and the woman were trembling; they held each other close as the hall came on top of them. They were yelling about the Enethui Rodon and that it was breaking free from its incarceration. Then the hall exploded. I had almost felt the searing heat on my skin. The aftermath of the explosion I saw next. The hall, once grand, was now a smoking pile of rubble in the empty plain in which is stood proudly upon. Cenedril was stricken almost immediately. A long metal was protruding from her back. Galbrannon's side was a bloodied pulp, yet still he lived. He crawled over to some hidden compartment and drew out a horn. He struck it on the ground and it broke. From it, a blinding light shone, covering everything, even I could not see. And when the light subsided, all the ruins had vanished. Afterwards, I had awoken..."
After he had recapitulated his dream, he looked at his friends. They all bore the same expression, one of confusion and bewilderment, "Wow, you were serious about the matter being serious," murmured Eomer, "I can say that I have heard of the Enethui Rodon before the lecture awhile ago, yet I have no knowledge of it ever becoming free."
"I have heard about the Rodons myself," agreed Legolas, "The Enethui, the Sixth, is the only infamous one. He achieved his infamy by his attempt at rebelling and all the foul deeds that the Farastosi had committed. He was said to have great power, yet he had never really gotten around to wreaking havoc over the world. As said by Caspaius, Arbalan had found him out before any damage was done."
"Do you think that it is a prophetic dream?" asked Boromir suddenly, leaning in closer to the table, "My father knows someone, whose ancestor was one of the Farastosi. This man feels the pull of the Enethui at all times, yet now he is feeling it the stronger. They are aware that the Sixth Divinity has regained a fraction of his strength even in captivity. And they are all certain that what he has is enough."
"Yet that is not possible," protested Legolas, "The Enethui Rodon cannot break free from his prison by his own!" He quieted his voice so that lurking ears would not hear of their conspicuous conversation.
"That is true," agreed Boromir, "The only way the Enethui can escape is with the help of the Farastosi. Only they know how to free him, yet they are still his slaves. He must have used whatever power he had to summon them."
"What do the Farastosi need to do to free them?" asked Aragorn, who knew barely a thing about the Enethui Rodon.
"Well you see," began Legolas, "The Emperor Farastos was not only an excellent politician, but a skilled swordsman as well. When he became a Divinity, he wished to make the greatest sword that was ever forged. He got the materials from his worshippers. He slowly entered their minds and hearts, decaying them as the days passed. The worshippers exploited their lands and even stole from others. In the end, he had gotten more than he needed. He was ready to create the ultimate sword. In the end he had succeeded. He named it Gur-na-Hathol. Yet by the time he had completed it, Arbalan had discovered him, and the sword was confiscated. While he was locked in an urn, his loyal worshippers either fled or were executed, and his blade broken into four. The four pieces were scattered all over in other realms and universes. Since then, the remaining Farastosi had searched different universes and dimensions to find the four pieces, for Farastos had kept most of his power with the sword. Last I heard they had found the third piece. When they do acquire the fourth, they must travel to where he is imprisoned and merely come within a few meters and he will have enough power to break free."
"It must be a prophetic dream," urged Eomer, who agreed with Boromir, "We all knew that it was inevitable. We were all certain the eventually the Enethui Rodon would break free of his prison. Do you think I should tell my uncle?"
"No," Aragorn shook his head, "Why let the older ones fret over a scenario of which we have no proof that it will actually occur. Elrond did not seem so worried over the matter, I suppose. He told me that it was a figment of my imagination." He searched the sea of heads, "Speaking of which, where is Elrond?"
"Well, I had just had him for Mathematics, but he headed to his faculty when he left the classroom," supplied Legolas, shrugging as he scanned the lunch room for any signs of their Sir Elrond.
The four searched within the mass of students and teachers, yet they could not visibly spot Elrond. He was not at his usual place in the teacher's table. Boromir shrugged, "I doubt that it's of any importance, where he is, probably in the bathroom, or even the library. Besides, Elladan and Elrohir don't seem to notice a thing."
The twins were currently standing on top of the table on which they usually ate and were singing chanting a little ditty...horribly... Apparently they were mimicking two of the hobbits, Merry and Pippin. The teachers were too exasperated to care for their antics anymore.
"Hey Boromir," Legolas mumbled between chews, he had returned to his food, "How do you even know about the Enethui Rodon? I thought that brainless guys like you didn't listen to the teacher, much less crack a book open."
"It's that little blatherskite!" replied Boromir, flinging whatever was left of his bread into his mouth, "I swear, once Faramir starts reiterating what's written his books and his research, he'll never stop! And I'm forced to actually digest what he's saying. As much as I love the idiot, sometimes I just want to stuff those books down his throat! I mean, I'm saying all these big words like 'reiterating' and 'blatherskite!'"
"I know exactly what you mean," agreed Eomer, pointing his dry soup spoon at Boromir, "Eowyn never shuts up whenever she talks about Aragorn," although he didn't like other guys whom his sister spoke of or even knew, he made an exception for Aragorn, since it drove him to embarrassment whenever the topic was brought up.
Eomer imitated Eowyn in a high-pitched voice, "Eomer! Eomer!" He shrieked as he flailed his arms around, "Aragorn just sent me a letter! He is so nice. Do you remember him Uncle? He was that dashing, young man with the beautiful black hair and lovely eyes! Eomer, can he come to the estate during summer break? Please, please Eomer! Ask Aragorn if he can visit me! I promise that I'll behave really nicely and of course I will look nice too! Tell Aragorn that I'll look nice!" Eomer, Legolas, and Boromir all had a nice laugh.
"When exactly did she say those words Eomer," asked Aragorn through gritted teeth. He was clearly annoyed.
"...when she was nine..."
"See!" Aragorn shouted softly to his friends, "That was like how many years ago!" he hissed, "I'm sure that she's gotten at least a little bit smarter than that! Aren't there men who like your sister, provided you haven't traumatized them away?"
"Grima."
"Alright," mumbled Aragorn, clearly not the right question, "Are their any men, who are interested in your sister, yet aren't chronically creepy, slightly insane, and haven't been traumatized away by you?"
"Oh that's very comforting Aragorn," drawled Eomer, "The only men interested in my sister are those who are chronically creepy, should I be worrying about Gollum and Boromir from now on?"
"Hey, I am not chronically creepy!" Protested Boromir, but he was ignored.
"Aragorn, Aragorn, you have not a thing to worry about," smiled Legolas as he patted Aragorn's back, hiding his smirk, "You'll have no problems with Eowyn, since you are already so madly in love with another."
"What?" Aragorn asked incredulously, "What are you talking about?"
"You know, that girl of your dreams."
"Legolas!" yelled Aragorn, he flung Eomer's empty soup dish at his friend's face. The bowl made solid contact with his face and it slid to the floor revealing a large bruise, "You deserved that bash!"
"My fan club will curse you into hell for destroying my face like that!" He threatened, clutching his face in pain.
"Hold on!" interjected Eomer, "You have a fan club? Since when?" asked Eomer.
"Oh come on Eomer," snorted Boromir, "Haven't you heard of the 'Legolites?' They were a sort of like a cult, right? Don't you remember those thirteen scary girls who used to stalk Legolas? They were disbanded by Galadriel and a few expelled for other matters, but some of the ladies still love him, unfortunately for us." muttered Boromir, "But then if we continuously mutilate him and his precious face, he won't have any worshippers, now will he?" He got an evil look on his face.
"No, he won't," murmured Eomer, acquiring the same evil look.
"Oh come on!" protested Legolas, "I'm sure nearly all the girls have at least one picture of the both of you!" He rubbed his swollen cheek and glared at Aragorn.
"Yeah, I suppose," shrugged Eomer, "We're still popular with the ladies!" They knew that he was joking.
Aragorn burrowed his head within his arms and let out a groan, "Why do I feel nauseated by your company?"
A man was brought in. His hands were bound, his eyes concealed, his mouth gagged, and his body struggling. Two burly men held him firmly as they dropped him harshly on the hard ground. The cloth tied across his mouth was removed, and the two men stayed behind him.
"Do you have any idea who I am?!" The man yelled as soon as his restraint was loosened, "I am Elrond, son of Earendil!" A dim light shone on him, yet it was not enough to break through the think darkness surrounding him.
"I am much aware of who you are, Elrond Peredhil, Son of Earendil, Husband of Celebrian, Brother of Elros, Father of Elladan, Elrohir, and the Evenstar as well," A sneering voice came from the blanket of darkness, "Yet the question that lingers in your mind shall not yet be answered."
"Who are you?"
"Ah, see." murmured the sleek, seductive voice, "That is the question that shall torment your mind for now, but I am certain that another question shall come from your mouth, and indeed, I shall be able to answer." The voice, clearly belonging to a man, had a strange accent. It seemed otherworldly.
"Why are you doing this?" asked Elrond, regaining his composure. He decided that to get out of this little mishap, he had to remain as diplomatic and civilized as possible.
"There is the question," laughed the voice, "You are indeed a smart man Elrond Earendilion. I have abducted you from your school for you have some information, regarding myself. And as vague as the information may be, I cannot risk it with a man of your stature!"
One of the men behind him had a wooden rod fastened to his side. He removed it, and hit Elrond squarely at the side of his head. Elrond buckled to the floor, unable to shield himself from the continuous blows that were being dealt to his body. The other man joined in with a long stick of metal, "What information?" he gasped out in pain.
The voice let out a cruel, derogatory laugh, clearly enjoying the man's suffering. "I thought that you were a smart man, Earendilion," the voice sneered, "Or perhaps you really do not know, yet I highly doubt it." From the shadows, footsteps were heard coming towards the downtrodden man.
Another man walked towards Elrond, standing right in front of the beaten guy. The new figure was wearing a long robe. It was made of fine silk, singed and torn in some places, and clearly very old. The designs, colors, and way of weaving seemed to surpass excellence. A head of long, unruly silver hair flowed done his lean back.
The man bent down, low enough to speak in a whisper to Elrond, yet high enough for his face to remained concealed by the shadows, "You know of what I speak. That boy who you have given a roof to, he spoke to you about that vision he had." His voice was a sleek sneer, "You had a suspicion that he had the prophetic sight, and that dream he had was all you needed to prove it." The man grabbed Elrond's head and he pressed a silver dagger to his throat, "Who is that boy?"
"You are aware that I have been told something of a prophetic likeness, and yet you do not know the boy who with the Vision," Elrond drawled coldly, coughing up some blood, "What power do you hold over me yet not over him?"
"That boy, he has a shield protecting him from my power, as great as it is," muttered the man, "He is covered with light and peace, no doubt by his parents! Tell me who he is, or I shall slit your throat."
"You won't."
The man gave a small chuckle, "My Elrond, you have quite the gall, but you are right," muttered the man, "I cannot slit your throat, but I can still threaten you! You aren't to speak to anyone about what that miscreant boy told you!"
"Err... Boss?" asked one of the burly cronies, his accent was thick and foreign, "Why exactly can't we slit the man's throat? I mean, he's right here and all." The other crony nodded dumbly in agreement.
"You idiots," groaned the man, "This man is Elrond Earendilion. He has many high connections. When they notice that he is gone, controversy would storm their realm. They have spies and necromancers. If his spirit were to pass in the Shadow Realm, their necromancers can summon him, and we would be found out!"
"Necromancers are those chaps who can control the dead, right?" the other one asked, scratching his head.
"Yes, Forstall," griped the man, "Necromancers can summon the souls of those dead." He strained his words as if he was speaking to a three-year old.
"I refuse to bend to your will," snapped Elrond, "The people deserve to know of any evil approaching!" spat the beaten man.
"Elrond, Elrond, Elrond," His voice reverted to his sneering manner, "There are two ways of doing this, one painful, and one even more painful, yet both extremely amusing to myself. Which will it be?"
"My choices are very reasonable, aren't they?" hissed Elrond, regaining his old spirit.
"The first choice," The man released Elrond from his grasp and stood up. He kicked Elrond fiercely in the side, "Is that you silence your mouth to anyone who asks about that certain manner. My spies will be watching you each day and each moment, ready to pounce when even a strand of hair is out of line. The second choice you have is for me to wipe out your memory of what the boy told you."
"How is that painful?" asked Elrond, now lying painfully on his back, every inch of his body heavily bruised.
"You know not of my methods of removing a specific memory in one's mind," snickered the mysterious man, "I delve into your head, as a searing dagger would. I would force all the nerves in your head to contract and bleed! I will skewer my way through the memory I wish to seek, sending an incessant flow of pain through your head. I could force abrasions onto your body when you resist. And this process can take hours if I wish it. The choice is yours, Earendilion."
"No, it is not," snarled Elrond, "You are to decide for me!" He gave the man a hard glare, yet the man remained amused.
"Of course," the man let out a sneering laugh, "why would any self-righteous hostage taker give any freedom to his captive," The man snickered at his comment and disappeared once more into the impassable darkness that room was shrouded in, "That memory is to be removed."
Elrond growled fiercely, but then he felt a sudden jolt at the back of his head. The pressure was pulling at his nerves and senses and the last thing he remembered was the man's mocking voice.
Then all Elrond, Son of Earendil, saw was darkness...
"Hey Elladan, Elrohir!" yelled Aragorn as he pushed his way through the students. School had just ended and he was searching for the twins. He had found them outside the school building talking to some friends. Aragorn's own group of friends was following him out of the sea of students.
"Hey little Estel," it was probably Elrohir whose mocking voice called for Aragorn, "How are you and your little playmate chums?" Elrohir smiled a toothy, sarcastic smile at the four who rolled their eyes at the younger twin.
"Hey Legolas, what happened to your face?" asked Elladan, who rolled his eyes at his brother as well.
"Aragorn threw a soup dish at me," grumbled Legolas, stroking his bruised face self-consciously.
"You know that you deserved it, you ugly pretty boy," snorted Aragorn, resorting back to being redundant, "Are we headed home yet? And where is Elrond?" asked Aragorn, changing the topic, for fear of what may become of it.
"We don't know," answered Elladan, "He told us to meet him in his office before we ate lunch. He wasn't there, but there he left a note saying that he had to go away on some urgent matter. He said that either I or Elrohir could drive." Two identical looks of evil flashed on the twins' faces.
"Walk home Aragorn," Eomer said in a fake, solemn voice, "If you want to live past this day." They laughed at his statement, yet it held some sort of truth to it.
"You know," interjected Elrohir, "You have no actual proof that Elladan and I cannot drive well. I mean, have you ever been in the car when I or Elladan were driving it? You've never seen us drive."
"For fear of any bodily injury," muttered Aragorn sarcastically.
"Whatever," grinned Elladan, he flashed the keys in Elrohir's and Aragorn's faces, "Get in the car, and shut up! I'm driving..."
"What?!" yelled Elrohir, "We never agreed to that! Why do you get to drive?" protested the other twin. He made a grab for the keys, but Elladan balled his hands into fists and jerked his arm away. Elladan smiled so cheekily, it was as if he had won all the money in the world.
"It's because I'm older and a lot more responsible!"
"At least I'm the handsome one..."
"Elrohir, we're identical twins!"
"Where exactly in your delusional mind did you get the notion that you were any more handsome than me?" asked Elladan to his twin who sat in the seat next to his. He deftly steered the car along the road.
"He said the same thing to me awhile ago Elladan," drawled Aragorn who was sitting in the backseat. He supported his face with his elbows, "It's his only real card to play, and still it sucks."
"I have more witty retorts, believe me," smiled Elrohir, "But then again, Elladan, you and I have nothing to worry," he patted his twin's shoulder, "The both of us know full well that we're way more handsome than Aragorn!" He held out his hand to Elladan.
"Isn't that true," laughed Elladan, clasping one of his hand's with Elrohir's.
Aragorn's face remained impassive, but he rolled his eyes in vexation, "I exasperated enough to let that pass, you transvestites..." groaned Aragorn sarcastically, he leaned back in his seat.
"What's with you Little Estel," crooned Elladan, keeping his eyes firmly on the road, "Did your inane, little friends find about the girl of your dreams?" Elrohir gave a loud snort to follow his twin's comment.
Aragorn's eyes bulged and he shot forward from his seat, "How did you hear about that?"
"Oh come on Estel," drawled Elrohir as he turned his head to face Aragorn, "hasn't anyone ever told you that you talk in your sleep, and loudly; I might mention. And besides, Boromir tipped us off about your late night conversations." The grin on the younger twin's face was full of cheek, "We heard you guys talking about it over lunch."
"How could you? You were practically three tables away from us!"
"Estel, Estel, Estel," Elladan shook his face with mirth, "Haven't you heard of 'connections?' I'm sure you have some of your own, even if they are pretty daft," Elladan smirked, "Those guys we were talking to awhile ago told us, but we knew a long time ago as well."
"Oh, and the fact is supposed to comfort me..."
"Well, actually it could," responded Elrohir, "Be comforted by the fact that we didn't tell anyone before, but those guys are probably going to tell some people, who are going to tell some more people, who are going to tell even more people, and you probably catch my drift already."
Aragorn let out a loud moan, "Why did this have to happen to me?" The twins smirked simultaneously at each other and let out two identical snickers. Aragorn groaned in frustration once more, "Why couldn't they have found out about Elladan's nighttime habit." Elrohir was suddenly in a fit of giggles. Elladan looked perplexed.
"What nighttime habit?"
The sun's rays fell as quickly as the moon's soft glow rose. The glories of the day soon became the mysteries of the night. The birds that chirped gleefully were replaced by the owl's mournful hooting. The morning's radiant beauty had become the night's dusky splendor. All the light that had shone over the lands was covered by the eerie darkness.
Aragorn changed into his sleeping clothes and looked out his window, spotting all the inscrutable features that night sky. He peered nervously at his bed, in a way afraid to dream once more. What if he was to have another dream, which continued the first?
He wanted to dream about her. He could tell her anything and he would solve his problems. Even with the mere sound of her voice seemed to comfort him out of his unease. But would he dream about her?
To sleep would be the only way to find out, yet some phobic force wouldn't allow him to. He dragged a chair to his window and continued looked out, trying to slice through the unfathomable darkness that shrouded the outside.
"Come to sleep," a voice rattled within his head, it sounded ethereal, yet hurt. Aragorn's eyes widened, "Don't you want to see me?"
Aragorn's mouth dropped to an unreasonable length yet no words came out, "Please, I want to talk to you... I need to talk to you about something..." The voice said once more, penetrating his empty thoughts.
Aragorn peeked once more at his bed and scanned his returning thoughts. They flew past him and he was forced to rely on instinct. Aragorn rigidly stood up from his chair and walked to the bed. He pulled the bed covers and got in slowly. He laid his head on his pillow and closed his eyes. Wishing that sleep would come quick, and it did.
Drowsiness overcame him and his mind shut off...
Darkness was no more, yet only a brilliant light shone on the eyes of onlookers. Aragorn found himself on sitting a stone bench situated in a garden. The weather in the garden was fair and the flowers were in bloom. The sun's rays comforted his face with warmth and the soothing sounds of nature flew gently to his ears.
He had been there before...many times in fact...
He swiveled forward and came face to face with a woman. His face broke out in a grin as soon as he had seen her. The woman of his dreams, he knew so much about her, yet so little as well...
She was, to put into plain words, beautiful. She seemed to be slightly older, but her face was unmarred by any scars or any sign of age. It had a demure oval shape. Her eyes were a stunning grey, which seemed to penetrate the flimsy coating of skin and pierce through the heart and soul. Her nose was built at a perfect angle. Her chin was prominent. Her skin was pale, yet it was not sickly, nor was it sallow. Her hair was long, and as dark as the night. Her body was tall, perhaps as tall as Aragorn, and willowy. She captivated him to no ends.
She gave Aragorn a brilliant smile, "I was afraid that you feared to go back to sleep once more. I was afraid that I would never see you again," murmured the beautiful woman to him, stroking his face gently.
He shivered slightly, yet was warmed by her touch, "Forgive me for my cowardice..." he murmured humbly, bowing his head.
"It may have been cowardice that shunned you from your dreams, yet it is bravery that seems to have brought you back," said the woman, "I missed you that night. I waited and waited for you, and yet you never came to me." A mournful look came onto her marvelous features.
"I had a dream, in replacement to this one," said Aragorn softly, clutching both her hands firmly, yet timidly in his own, "I had seen two beings in my dream, one, a man, the other, a woman. They were spiraling to their doom." He gave a low chuckle, "Some people are saying that I can see into the future."
"I know that you have the Vision," whispered the woman, she began stroking his hands tenderly. She spoke to him in hushed tones, "I knew it, ever since I had dreamt about you, ever since you and I first met here. Who were the man and woman?"
"...Galbrannon and Cenedril..."
"The guardians of the Sixth Divinity?" asked the lady, her voice changed to surprise, "They are die? That only means that the Enethui Rodon is to break free from his prison," she became fretful.
"Forgive me once more," said Aragorn, his eyes were downcast, "I did not mean to trouble you with my problems. Once I heard that you wished to speak with me, I fought my fears and returned to our dreams," he looked at her affectionately, "What is it that you wanted to speak to me about?"
"I feel ashamed as well for bothering you," a soft rosiness tainted her soft cheeks, "I know that you are troubled as well. It would be discourteous for me to lay my troubles onto you, while you have your own trials to worry about."
"I wish to hear of your troubles," he gave her a sweet smile; "You have been so kind to me that I must return the favor." He stroked a lock of her hair behind her ear, "Allow me to lend an ear as you have."
She gave him a brilliant smile as he spoke. She gave him an affectionate embrace, but as she pulled back, her face turned grim, "It is my father," said the lady a grimace stretched on her face, "I can see events from the future and the present as well," she told him, "I fear that his life is in danger. He has not contacted me as he said he would, and I have been unable to reach him as well. I fear that he is gravely hurt." Her eyes glistened with fresh tears. Apparently, she truly cared for her father.
"Do not cry," soothed Aragorn as he took her into his arms once more, stroking her lengthy hair, "Everything is alright," he whispered in her ear. The feeling of joy he felt as he held her in his arms was unmatched, yet is pained him to see her distressed.
"Thank you for listening to me as well," murmured the woman, her voice was muffled by the groove of Aragorn's neck, "You are the kindest being I have ever met in my entire life. I have never met another who treats me as you do." Aragorn could feel a slight wetness on his shoulder.
"Dear Lady, do not let your tears fall," he said once more, "I wish to see the same radiance in your face. Although your beauty does not wane in your sadness, I doubt that my shoulder appreciates it as much as my eyes do." He meant it as a joke.
She lifted her head from his shoulder and began laughing, "You are very sweet," She smiled at him, causing him to smile as well, "Tell me, do you like it, when the sun falls and the moon rises? Does the night scare you?"
A pale orange glow shimmered on her skin. He looked at her inquiringly, wondering why she was asking. "Indeed, I do enjoy the night more than the day at times," answered Aragorn honestly, "Yet the past events have made me dislike sleep somewhat."
The pale orange was fading fast. Aragorn looked around the garden; the sun that once shone was dropping onto the horizon. In replacement to it, the moon rose up to reclaim its nightly position. It wasn't as brilliant, yet perhaps it was just as beautiful.
But the darkening did not wane. The sun had completely vanished, and the moon's shape was changing quickly. From all the moon's visible forms, a new moon was the last. The only light that shone from the heavens was the far-away glowing of the perennial stars. Aragorn was caught up in the night sky. He had glanced at it quite often, yet he had never really dwelled on all he could find in the endless enigma. He looked up, disregarding all that was around him, and looked up at the moonless heavens. As he peered longer and harder, the less he could see. The stars seemed to disappear as he strained to look for them, "My lady what is happening?"
"This is the Eternal Darkness within our hearts. In this case, it is my heart," answered the woman, "The purest heart, one completely bathed in a perennial glow, has even the slightest pigment of darkness."
Aragorn looked up at the sky once more, the Darkness was swallowing the splendors of the night sky, "All of that is the Darkness in your heart," murmured Aragorn in disbelief, "It cannot be."
"Oh, but it can," she smiled in mild contempt, "Although it is not now, it may soon become this large. The Darkness in my heart may not be big, yet this is what it can become," She pointed to the bleak night sky, "A field of wheat has its crops growing tall and fruitful, yet perfection can never last. The weed will creep up from the reaches of the earth and entangled itself with the crops, strangling them till they fall dead. The field will become overrun with the killing weeds, unless checked and cared for. Soon, the entire field will be taken, yet some stalks, the greatest and strongest, will still stand. But as the years will pass, if not taken care of, the entire field will fall to the weed. As will a heart full of Darkness..."
"I cannot see through the Darkness's thick veils of coldness," said Aragorn, "The Darkness grows at an undefeatable pace, how can it be stopped? How can one person keep the Darkness in his or her heart at bay?"
"Look at me," she said. He found that he had been gazing skyward all the time, as his eyes reached her, he held in his breath. Like a beacon in the mists of fog, she glowed brightly, shedding light to what was near her. "Even the darkest heart has some light in it as well." Her pale skin was illuminated by the silvery glow she was emanating. Aragorn did not wish to take his eyes off of her.
She was the Light in the midst of all the Darkness...
"One day, the Darkness in your heart will be unleashed, and you will succumb to its evil. It will remove all traces of the Light, but then you will arise once more, claiming all your rightful glory. The Light in your heart will return, vanquishing all the traces behind, if not leaving a mere speckle. You will overcome all evils that will approach you, even if failing may seem the way to vanquish it."
"But what if I linger too long in the Darkness? What if it overcomes me completely, leaving no trace of the Light? What then shall be my Light?"
"Hope may seem lost at times, yet in truth it is only hiding. Your hope shall return to you one day, and you will fight."
"You said awhile ago that even the darkest heart has some light in it, yet you said as well that the Light shall leave my heart. What is the truth?"
"Light and Darkness are only illusions...although very real...Both are strangely similar, yet radically different. Darkness is easier to obtain and far easier to keep, yet it will bring you to your ultimate downfall. Light is hard to obtain and even harder to keep, yet the fruits are satisfying. If your heart is overcome by the Darkness for a long time, indeed the light will diminish, yet with the Light, Darkness always remains."
A forlorn look was cast upon Aragorn's face, "This dream is to end isn't it?"
She donned the same look on her illuminated face, "Indeed it is... Yet do remember...
"The Darkness will try and get you, yet the Light will forever hold you in its heart..."
"What is happening now?" a female voice asked through the dark.
"He and the woman are speaking. She is telling him of what will happen to him in the future. It isn't much of a detailed description, but she is talking about the Darkness and the Light. Should we worry about this?" A man answered, he was peering at a sphere and the scene that was unfolding inside it.
"You may, but I will not... She is helping us in way... I mean, we won't have to explain every single detail if she is explaining some things to him, although the other ones may prove to be a bit more of a challenge..." the female drawled lethargically.
"Oh please, I have never seen or even heard of a thing that even comes close to challenging, for you! You are either humbling yourself or lying." muttered the man, groaning at his companion's demeanor.
"Lying."
"I see... The dream is about to end. They are both fading back to the real world, they seem rather sad, wouldn't you say? Do you suppose that they actually have feelings for one another?" asked the man, as he continued looking at the orb.
"It may not be logical to love someone in your dreams, yet it is highly possible," answered the female, unenthusiastically, "There have been many records, mostly diaries and journals, of people dreaming about their soul mates or others who do not even exist. Some have even passed their own realm into the one of Dreams to be with the beloved figments of their imaginations."
"You are keeping something from me..." muttered the male, suspicious.
"I have always done that... Haven't you grown accustomed to it yet?"
"I suppose, yet it still peeves me... The dream has finally ended. Both of them have vanished and so has their meeting place. He's already awoken in his world, but he seems confused and a bit shaken. What are we to do next?"
"He needs to think the dream over. I'm certain that he remembers the details vividly, and I'm certain that her words have been imprinted onto his mind. Perhaps he needs some time to process all that he has gathered. You may turn the sphere off."
The man obeyed without question, "What will happen, when the Darkness attacks at its full power?"
"If we fail...Wrath and Ruin..."
There you go; the second installment of my Lord of the Rings story. I hope that you all enjoyed reading it. Some parts in the chapter are unanswered and mysterious, but don't worry. Everything will be explained in future chapters. Who is the woman of Aragorn's dreams? What is Elladan's nighttime habit? What happened to Elrond? Who kidnapped Elrond? What did Elrond want to tell Elladan and Elrohir? Who are these two mysterious people who came up near the ending of the chapter? Why am I wasting my time typing this up? Are there anymore questions, even if some of them have pretty obvious answers...? If you have any guesses, you can put them in your review or even email me. The address is in the profile. Do not forget to write up a review!