ALATARIEL

By Meirarien

Disclaimer: You all know the disclaimer...same as last chappie.

A/N: This chappie is kind of boring, but it's Alatariel's story, so you might all wanna read it.

Chapter Two- Alatariel's Story

Earth. Yes, Earth. Not Middle Earth. And she was glad. Fiondra sat on a small pile of stones. She was reading LOTR, her favorite series. Just as Denethor asked Pippin to sing him and song and Pippin refused, she felt an odd shake. Probably just another small earthquake. California was famous for them. She stood up to go inside, her head still in the book. As she neared the door, she felt her head hit a tree. "OUCH!" she shrieked. She looked up. A very serious earthquake, maybe, one that would change her surrounding? Actually, she was just traveling to Middle Earth.

In this time, there had been one tree near Mordor. Lucky for her, she had hit it. Fiondra surveyed her surroundings. For some odd reason, she felt she was in Middle Earth. She was right, but she didn't know it. Although she loved Middle Earth and Tolkien's beautiful style, she didn't believe in Middle Earth. But this was so real, and so like the descriptions in the book.
Cautiously, Fiondra wandered toward a large building. A young man walked out of it. It was actually an illusion of Sauron. Fiondra was enchanted by him. Brown hair and green eyes. Yet, however normal and not unique in our world, this man was perfect, and that made him unique. Fiondra did not see the flaw in this man, just as Aragorn had not seen the flaw in Alatariel, he was pure evil. "Fiondra." The man looked at her. "Come with me."
"Of course," she couldn't wait to follow this handsome man into his palace, or so she thought. They walked inside. An illusion showed her elaborate halls and golden ceilings. She gasped. "Beautiful!" she said, awestruck.
"Yes, I agree. I built it myself."
"How?"
"I will teach you if you come with me."
She followed, to her own expense, though she did not know what her own expense was. He led her to a bedroom with beautiful furnishings. "This is your room. I will call you Alatariel, for it is an Elvish name."
"Elvish?"
"Of course, you want a beautiful name, do you not?"
"Yes, I do." She was only answering what his mind told her to answer.
A couple hours later, it was time for bed. The young man led her to her room again and kissed her goodnight. Her expense. The color drained from her eyes and turned them silver. The color of her hair (once midnight black) fell like raindrops and disintegrated on the tile floor. Her blond and silver eyes shown against the darkness. Perfection erased the flaws in her face. Evil etched its way into every crevice, every pore, every hair. This was the Alatariel that would seduce her victims. The Fiondra that had once existed lay locked in a high chamber, perhaps never to awaken. "Now, Alatariel, will you marry me?"
"Can I not pick my own husband?" her voice rang with malice, but a soft seductive layer covered it.
"Fine," said the illusion, becoming impatient, "But I may suggest Aragorn, of Arathorn. A fine ally and powerful warrior. Call him Estel, if you want a better chance. Go to Rivendell. If you do not pick him, I cannot help you. I am only an illusion of the evil that was."
Alatariel smiled and turned. Fatigue was not shown, although it was near midnight. A black steed awaited her. The new gown that had formed itself around her lay bright against the midnight steel of the horse. Galloping into the night, Alatariel raced against time, and hope. Somehow, knowledge had come to her. Knowledge of this Aragorn. Knowledge that without her, he might become a good King. Knowledge that with her, she could control him.

A/N: thanx to mi one reviewer. Ya, she's kinda a bitch, but now u know y! No flames now, ya'll