Part 8

"The sun moves quickly."

"No more then usual."

"Nor any slower."

"Patience. Who knows what we may uncover."

"What are you saying? What is the point of this?"

I could hear first; this ludicrous conversation was playing in the air around me. Next came my awareness of the ground, with its hardness, its bone chilling cold, the small rocks that pinched against my skin. I then realized dimly that although the ground was cold, I was not. There was a warm weight around my body. A blanket?

It took me a while to open my eyes, although the process was speeded by my curiosity. When the covers of sleep finally released me, the first thing I saw was a bright yellow blob, which slowly focused in to be a flame. Flames….fire….fireplace…..in the pub….Talcum….my brother….everything flew back at once, and I sat bolt upright in the terror and realization of it. My head was spinning and thumping so loudly I thought the whole world was aware of it. I went blind for a moment, and I began to whimper.

Two strong hands supported me, and I came to a complete panic. Who was it? What did they want? Was it perhaps the voices that were talking? I wanted Malkemen!

If it was the villagers, it meant they had come for me, and they were taking me away to kill me too. I kept attempting to get free, writhing and squirming but to no avail, for he was not only much larger then I, but he was strong in a way I didn't understand. He had some power over me, and began murmuring unintelligible words that somehow soothed me, and my vision cleared and my panic weaned. That is, at least enough for me to freeze instead of struggle. "Try to stay warm, and calm," he said, smiling gently. "We will not hurt you or harm you in any way. You've had a deep shock- do not push yourself to do things that are not necessary." I allowed myself to be gently set down as he slowly released me and turned me around so I could see him. I observed a long-past-graying man adorned in mud-stained robes, and discovered it was in fact the same man who had grabbed me off Talcum. I looked straight at him, terrified, but trying not to show it, and he looked calmly back at me.

Although I oddly felt a bit more stable, my nerves were so one edge I think I could've jumped a mile into the air if he touched me again, my muscles were that coiled. I slid a bit away from him, keeping the blanket with me. Then I saw the other man. For, of course, it takes two to make a conversation.

He was closer to the fire, observing me softly. He was much younger then the other man, although far from youth himself. His ebony hair was dirty and tangled and fell almost to his shoulders. His chin held a hint of stubble that looked perfectly natural on his rough face of stern features. His clothes were worn and apparently used to hard travel, stuffed with odd assortments of weapons and oddly assorted items. He reminded me of the Ranger, Halbarad. I also had the feeling I'd seen him many times before, and realized astonishingly that I probably had.

My eyes drifted suddenly to his left hand, where on his index finger he bore a ring of silver serpents swirling around a giant emerald.

A large, finely dressed man, proclaiming freedom to his people, bearing this ring…

A man far different from the first, in all but eyes and hair color, speaking with chieftains as this ring glitters in the firelight…

A gallant man, dressed for battle as hitching up his sword, with a hand sporting this ring…

The same man whom I knew to be standing right in front of, being crowned by the elder in a white city with the same ring upon his finger…

I shook my head slightly, breathing now slightly faster then before, my shivering returned. I slowly pieced this new information together. I knew kings wore crowns; there was only one explanation. "You are a king?" I asked.

His eyes, which were already wide from the sliver light that had no doubt flashed across my eyes, now doubled their size. "What did you say?"

"I asked if you were a king. Your ring, it-" I stopped, wondering at his tone.

The man looked at the ring. "Yes, this ring marks my true blood line-I am indeed the heir to the thrown of Gondor. But how do you know of this? Few know of my existence, and fewer of my identity!" The skin around his eyes was all scrunched up as though he suddenly had more skin there then he knew what to do with.

"She knows many things," the old man said calmly, his eyes boring deep into mine. "But she doesn't understand them. This child has a great gift I have only seen once in my lifetime. She has trained herself to deal with it as best she can, but it will take more then an untamed fear to command what she has. She has many gifts, all of them interlinked. Few of so few seasons could kill a full grown man with but a dagger and grief sown fury."

"What is it?" the rough king questioned. "What 'gift' does she possess that gives her this knowledge that you speak of so solemnly?"

"Alas, I have not seen this for many years, since the beginning of the third age. It is more commonly called the Sight, and by the elves Anna Celeblhach, the gift of the silver leaping flame. Whomever has it is overcome with visions of past, present and future, what did, is, could, could've, might've, might and will be. The possibilities are endless on what one could see; one could have this gift their whole life and never make sense of any of it. Rarely does it come to humans; elves, being immortal, have enough time to get it under their grasp. This is not a gift given out rashly." He paused then, took out his pipe, filled it and lit it and proceeded to smoke.

I watched him do this, and felt my heart plummet down until it hit my stomach. I knew one thing and I knew it well; men did not like to have conversations when smoking, unless you were also participating. I stood looking at his profile, frustrated, until the younger man pulled slightly on my forearm in indication for me to leave him.

I sat with a plump across from the younger, who was on the other side of the fire, taking in everything that was said. Was I truly not possessed by demons? Was this a gift? A good thing? How could it be, when gifts were good things? Gifts were things people gave you because…well…I wasn't sure why people gave them to you, but they did, and it made you happy because…it just made you happy! And this thing didn't make me happy…

The younger kept glancing at the elder periodically, for he too seemed impatient. He eventually filled a bowl with stew, sat a few feet from me, and gently placed it into my shaking hands, silent. I was hungry, and I could not remember when I had last eaten. Two days ago? Yes, for my brother had gone to get food…

His memory came harshly, and soon enough the tightness in my muscles return and overcame the idea of food. I remembered I was alone, and helpless. I was a child in the wilderness in a cruel world, and my brother was gone. The only person I'd ever loved, who'd ever loved me, and probably ever would, had disappeared into the crashing waves, and all I could do was murder the man who did it. I'd killed someone! I'd killed the evil Talcum.

I sat there for a long while, welled up in grief. The only movement was my slight shaking. The not-so-kingly-king sat opposite of me, apparently at a loss for what to do. He must've tried to get my attention a few times, and after having failed, whispered, "Gandalf?" with a slight tenseness in his voice. I heard a movement behind me, and the man whose name must be Gandalf picked me up and settled me on his lap. I was not sure I wanted to be there; I did not trust anyone in the village, I trusted no one but my brother. But he had left, and I was grabbing onto the only thing left to me.

I realized the last time I'd been embraced by an adult was by my mother, and that had been a lifetime ago. He rocked me gently, saying little at all for a few minutes. Then he whispered to me, "It's alright to cry, little one."

I shook my head furiously. Crying didn't help, crying didn't help.

He left me alone, then, but continued to rock me. I stopped shaking, but sat there, staring ahead of me.

I heard the other man singing softly under his breath a tune with words I could not comprehend. They seemed to calm me down, and I began to focus on them. "What does that mean?" I whispered, my high-pitched words snapping into the deep, graceful tune.

His voice halted, as though he hadn't known he'd been singing, or was surprised I was speaking to him again. "It is in one of the elven languages; an ancient lullaby, one my mother used to sing to me. The words themselves mean little more then an attempt to sooth."

I began to rattle off responses back at him. "Where is your mother? Can I meet her? My mother's dead, she died two winter's ago." I paused. "Can you teach me that language? It's very pretty. Then I can talk with those elves in their language."

Gandalf chuckled. "It seems you've helped to somewhat tamed her, Aragorn. You should not fear her so."

I looked up at him. "Is that your name? I like that name, it is a very pretty name."

He nodded back at me, though unsurely, as though not certain I was a real person. "It's one of them; my 'kingly' name. I'm also known as Strider, and quite a few others. You may call me whatever you like."

"My name's Kinya." I said contently. Then I froze. "Not Ya." I added.

Gandalf raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

I shuddered. "Cause that's not my name, but what they called me anyways." I snuck closer into Gandalf's lap. It was so warm there, so friendly.

"I can accept that answer." Gandalf nodded to me.

I in turn nodded also, then went back to an earlier question. "Can you teach me that language?" I shot at both of them.

Gandalf replied before Aragorn. "You may have the opportunity to begin learning." He looked thoughtful. "I think you will be with us for a small time."

I looked up at him. Stay with them? Why would I stay with them?

"She's staying with us?" Aragorn asked. For all his earlier efforts, he seemed uncomfortable around me again. "Surely this is no life for a child, especially a maiden as young and uncared for as she?"

"No, of course not. But we cannot just leave her here. There is no town for miles and miles, besides the one she just came from. And they will surely kill her if she returns. And if they don't, how we she live? You are, how many seasons?"

"Four winters." I mumbled.

"Four? You are small, I thought you perhaps three. A smart three, but three nonetheless. Aragorn, how can you expect a little four year old to live alone, by herself, in a town that hates her?"

"There are bigger things at stake then a little maiden from the sea!" He blew up, and started waving his arms like a madman. "I know you have a loving streak in you, but we cannot save every helpless child! Time is short, we must find him, and you're opening an orphanage! We cannot delay!"

"We will find her a home at the nearest town. She will not be with us for long."

"And meanwhile we must wait for her and feed her and make sure she gets enough sleep and overall tolerate a small child! You said yourself that there is no town for miles upon miles; it will be days before we find her a home! And who is to say that someone will take her in?"

"We'll go to the next town."

"There is something amiss here, I know you too well…"

Gandalf said something to the equivalent of 'harumph'.

Aragorn turned sharply away and murmured, "I am not an evil soul, but more lives will be sacrificed then just this child's if we cannot continue on our quest! And you ask why I fear her…" He ended bitingly.

I didn't have the slightest clue what they were talking about. Quest? Sacrifice?

"Gandalf, what's a quest?"

He patted me on the head. "Shhh. I will tell you later. For the time being, Aragorn, it is not your decision. She is coming with us until we can find a more suitable position for her. If you would like to trek ahead, finding her pace too slow, you may do so. I am quite adequate to search alone."

"You have not convinced me in the slightest that this is a good idea."

"I have my reasons." He mused, looking around at the surrounding foliage. "Ah!" He exclaimed, and picked up a little yellow flower with slender, pointy petals. "Don't you think this is pretty?" he asked me.

I shrugged. They grew all over the field from the way from the town to our cave. I played with them, sometimes.

"Gandalf."

I picked up the flower and started fiddling with it, pulling off the petals one by one, and, when they were all gone, I popped off the little round head and then started pulling the stem into little strands.

"Yes?" He replied mildly.

"I wish you would share with me your intentions. Many see your doings as eccentric; this seems to have little point or purpose. A whim, almost."

This flared him up. My flower shredded and my hands now sticky, so my attention was brought back to the two men. Why were they arguing? Where they angry? Maybe I should go, for angry men could do bad things. I walked over to the edge of the camp, far away from them, but unaware where to go if I did depart. Meanwhile, the two men continued their combat.

"I thought you knew me better then that. I never do anything on a whim, if you discount my dealings with gardens in Hobbiton. I have a full intent and meaning, however, I do not wish to share it at this moment, as I am not completely sure of her yet. But do you not think someone trained with a gift such as hers would be useful in our coming times?"

He didn't say anything for quite a while. "Is it worth sacrificing you, though?"

There was that word, again. Sacrifice. What was that supposed to mean?

"You are not sacrificing me; you would be using me to my full potential. Now would you please go grab her before she wanders away from the camp and gets eaten by a wolf!"

At the mention of wolves, I came sprinting back towards them.

Gandalf knelt down in front of me. "Kinya, child, I need to talk to you about something, and it's very serious. Will you listen?"

I nodded.

"We cannot take you back to Nove. It is not safe for you there, nor are there any towns close by. Will you consent to stay with us at least until we find a better home for you? To call me your guardian?"

"I want Mahkemn."

"I'm sorry, child. He is gone. I cannot get him back for you."

"Why?"

"I did not create the world, but that is how it flows."

"NO!"

"Child…"

If Malkemen would not come back, I would…I would…

I felt something hot start in my stomach and snake through the rest of my body in hot bursts. I picked up rocks and threw them as far as I could, angrily Why did he have to go? All I wanted was my brother…he was my only family! My mother was gone, I had no father, and Talcum had murdered my brother…

Gandalf's arms were around me. He began whispering in my ear. "Child, I cannot bring him back, nor can I replace him. But we cannot leave you here all alone. We will take care of you."

"NO!" I shook my head and tried to run away, entirely forgetful about Gandalf's threat of bears. Unfortunately, his arms were too strong, and I was no match.

"Kinya, I'm sorry, sweetheart. But either you come with us and be safe, or we leave you alone with the villagers."

I didn't want that. But I didn't want anything. Maybe they'd kill me...put me where Malkemen was…and we'd be together!

"And, perhaps, before we find you a new home, I can begin to teach you how to control the visions that follow you. Help you learn to overrule them."

This stopped me. "You…can?"

"Yes, I believe so. To some extent, although it takes time. As I said, normally elves have this gift…I've never heard of it being given to a human, and the fact that you've gotten it so young… Furthermore, this is the question; do you wish to go with us? We are traveling across this land, and will be moving at a rapid pace, but you will be safe, and we will give you food fire. Until further notice, I will be your guardian, and your teacher. It would be somewhat of an adventure."

Pause.

"It would be wise to accept, Kinya."

I wasn't quite sure what accept meant, but I understood what he was saying. Go with him, and I could get rid of the demons. Go with him, and be safe. Go with him, and go on an adventure.

Aragorn was in the background, muttering to himself and looking into the fire. His face was dark and eerily illuminated by the flames. He was a dark man, a scary man. I wasn't sure if I wanted to stay with him…

I remembered what my brother always used to say, about how we'd go off adventuring, saving people and being heroes. I'd loved that story, for it gave me some hope to dream of something. I'd always believed it, but his death had been something of being dropped onto the rocky ground. He'd let the opportunity of leaving go to stay with me, and now he was gone. My old protector was gone, and now I had a new one. If for nothing but to remember my brother, I would go with them and do what I could do, be what I could be. For my brother, I would go.

I nodded. A solid look of approval went over Gandalf's features, and spun me around in his lap so that our faces were level.

"So, then, Lady Kinya, I name you my apprentice and my charge." He smiled and shook my tiny hand.

I looked up at him happily. This was far too much excitement in one day; I began to yawn. I ate supper with them happily, then Gandalf placed me gently down, back under my blanket, and I fell back asleep, safe in the presence of my guardian.

Yay! Finished, woop! I PROMISE I'll work on the next one, I PROMISE! Please RR!