Title: The End Has Come

Author: B-witched83uk )

Rating: PG-13

Summary: The royal family of Gondor have their final adventure together.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Lord of the Rings. The whole of Middle-earth belongs to Tolkien

Beta: The Last Evenstar, a great friend and a great editor.

Archive: , Any others please ask.

Feedback: I would absolutely love some because yes I am a praise junky.

A/N: Brace yourselves for a long chapter with lots of explaining. I'm sorry there is no replies to reviews this time, blame it on too much coffee, not enough sleep and an oven that needed cleaning. The flashbacks in this chapter are from Lúthien's Flute and When in Rohan.

For those of you who have been reading my fics since the very beginning, it is all about to make sense. You are about to find out the reason for everything that Galadwen has been though in past stories. Also, this chapter was exhausting to write, I have been building up to this chapter for the past nine months.

Chapter 15

The Prophecy

Silence filled the great hall. Aragorn sat in his throne, his hands clasped and twisting on his lap, his mouth unable to close. Beside him, Arwen reached over and stilled his hands with her own, looking over to her grandson, who stood quietly between his father and uncle.

Galadwen, Legolas, Eldarion, Gwydion, Elladan, Aragorn and Arwen were all silent for what seemed like an eternity. Legolas had told them all what had happened to Gwydion, and so far none had attempted to speak. Finally Aragorn stood up, showing his true grace and stature. He walked over to his grandson and examined the healed wound. He looked over Gwydion's shoulder to meet Elladan's knowing eyes.

Aragorn had been raised by Elrond, growing up thinking of Elladan and Elrohir as brothers. Elrond's study had been filled with books, ancient texts as old as the earth itself. Countless hours were spent studying, learning of the world and its history.

The Prophecy.

It had been talked about as a great story, a legend thought to be no more than myth. Yet here was Gwydion, standing before them, his freshly healed arm on display. Aragorn closed his eyes and could see the text in front of him. He had never been sure why, but he had read it and re-read it as a child, finding some form of comfort in the tale.

"Gwydion, Legolas, Galadwen take a seat. This day will be a long one."

They all did as Aragorn told them, sitting at the long stone table cautiously. Elladan came to stand beside Aragorn, placing a hand on his back.

"Long ago, Manwë, the chief of the Valar, called a council of all the Valar. He sat them all down and took his seat beside Varda, Elbereth as you know her." Aragorn nodded to Gwydion, whose eyes were fearful. "The light of the two trees, Telperion and Laurelin, had long ago diminished, and Valinor was ever lessened in beauty for it. Yet the light of the two trees still existed. You all know the story of the Silmarillion, the jewels created by Fëanor, containing the light of the two trees."

Legolas shock his head impatiently. "Yes, yes, we all know the story, it has been told oft enough. What has this to do with my son?"

Aragorn looked in to Legolas' eyes and saw fear, fear of the unknown. "If you will let me continue, I shall explain." Legolas nodded gently, and looked over at his wife, who was staring at her father expectantly, waiting for him to tell her what was happening to her son.

"The three Silmarils are long since lost. One was cast into the fiery chasms of the earth, another rests at the bottom of the sea, and the last floats in the air as a star shining bright. Manwë told the Valar of the vision he had the night before as he rested soundlessly. He told of a Peredhel, half-Elven. Perhaps that is why the text always held such interest for me growing up, seeing as my foster father and brothers were Peredhil."

He looked over to Elladan who smiled gently and nodded. "So it would seem Ada knew more then he let on. For it would be one of our blood whom the texts spoke of."

Gwydion stood up and looked at his grandfather and great uncle. "You are speaking of me? You are saying that Manwë foresaw my life and that he prophesised what, exactly?" His voice was harsh and disbelieving.

Elladan clasped Gwydion's shoulder, forcing him to meet his eyes. "The Eldar were split in to three clans, the Vanyar, the Noldor, and the Teleri. The three clans travelled from Valinor to Middle-earth, the Teleri breaking up. The members of the Teleri who left for Middle-earth were then known as the Sindar." Elladan nodded over to Legolas, who was sitting still, waiting for them to finish their story. "Your father is of the Sindar."

"Manwë spoke of a Peredhel of royal blood, both Quendi and Atani, Elven and human. He would also be a descendent of all three clans. His blood would be pure magic, and he alone would he be able to either join with the Valar and again see Valinor restored to its glory days, or be its ruin." Elladan waited for the look of complete horror to leave Gwydion's face; however, it did not.

Galadwen then stood up and clutched her chest as she let out a violent sob, clutching Legolas' hand she stared deeply in to his eyes. "When I was a child, an old Witch kidnapped me. During our stay in Rohan."

Everyone turned to look at her, her parents filled with memories of their daughter's ordeal. She had been taken from them and held by the old woman..

"She spoke of my blood. She said she had seen in her seeing stones that my blood was special, magical. That there was something in my blood that could make her powerful."

"Before you is the daughter of Elessar." The witch spoke proudly as she informed the dark man.

Moriksh stared at Galadwen before turning back to the witch. "What do we want with her?"

Kuruni rolled her yellowed eyes. "My stones have never once lied to me. They showed me the girl, and they showed me the magic that flows through her veins. Not only is she the first daughter of the King, but also a descendent of the Queen of Elves, the Lady of Light. This child has more heritage then any other being in all of Middle-earth."

Moriksh walked over to Galadwen, who was gagged and still chained to the wall. "So how do we tap in to this magic? How do we use the girl to aid us?"

Kuruni picked up the dagger from the floor and walked over to the table. "Think! How did you summon the army of Ohtarba? What did you need to anoint the pendent with?" She smiled, waiting for him to get it.

"My blood. The blood line of Sauron's right-hand man." He grinned as he eyed Galadwen's throat, so ready for slicing.

Moriksh turned around to face the witch. "So what do we put it on-"

Kuruni stabbed Moriksh right through the heart. "I'm sorry, my boy, but just like Sauron before me, I believe that power is not to be shared."

She slashed carelessly at Galadwen's wrist, narrowly missing her main arteries. The young Princess let out a piercing scream.

As she watched helplessly, the dark blood dripped on to the statue. Kuruni, an excited look upon her face, watched the jade carving intently, waiting for movement of some sort. Once the statue was covered in Galadwen's blood and had still not come to life, Kuruni picked it up and threw it against the wall. With a loud smash, it hit the pots on the table.

"I do not understand! How could it not have worked?" She paced up and down in front of Galadwen, muttering to herself and pulling out strands of her own hair. Finally, she stopped pacing and walked over to the table on which her stones were set. She gathered them up and threw them, a little harder then she had meant to. The stones read as they had always done, concerning the eldest daughter of the King. Her blood was special, so then why did it not work?

Perhaps she would have to use all of the girl's blood. Kuruni picked up her dagger once more and ran at Galadwen, who could do nothing but look on in fear.

Just as the dagger was about to come into contact with Galadwen's throat, the old witch stopped still. She was inches from the girl's jugular, a look of complete shock on her old face.

Kuruni staggered to the side, enabling Galadwen to see behind her. She felt her heart lighten and her whole body ease with relief as she saw Legolas standing in the doorway, his now emptied bow cocked at the witch.

Kuruni leant against the wall and pulled the arrow out of her back. Legolas moved towards Galadwen and untied her restraints. The moment she was free, she flung her arms around the tall Elf, as though she was afraid he would disappear. He held on to her and stroked her hair with his free arm, speaking soft Elvish words of comfort.

Kuruni, looking worse for wear, stumbled about, knocking her precious stones on to the floor. She finally took one last gasp and slumped on to the floor, facing the stones. She was seconds from death, and she was shown one last vision.

She saw Galadwen, now much older, lying in bed, Her Elven rescuer cradling their newborn son in his arms.

Kuruni died with a smile on her lips, realising that it was the child's blood she had needed, not the mothers

Galadwen opened her eyes and blinked away the tears. "That is why my blood did not work, it wasn't my blood she needed. It was my son's."

Gwydion walked over to his mother and took her in his arms, resting her head on his shoulder. Legolas proceeded to rub small circles on her back, trying to comfort her from unpleasant memories.

Arwen, for the first time, rose from her seat and walked to stand beside her husband. "On our journey to Lothlórien, you were taken again. We never realised the two incidents were related. The man who took you, Tibias, spoke to you of Valinor, of wanting you to bear his child. He was working for a dark sorcerer, the same sorcerer who abused Astald and almost killed your father."

Galadwen moved out of her son's arms and stood in front of her mother. Arwen reached out her hand and stroked her cheek gently. "Galadwen, tell us exactly what was said concerning your child and Valinor."

Galadwen closed her eyes once more and let herself be taken back to the dreadful night her spirit had almost been broken.

"Once you are my wife, you shall give me a child, an Elven child, an Elven child with royal blood." As he spoke to her, he brushed his hands down her face, making her cringe.

"And what exactly could you want with a royal, Elven heir?"

The man smiled evilly at the young princess. "I will be able to tap into the power of the Elves. I have found a sorcerer so mighty that he is able to draw on the life of an Elf and share its traits with its bloodline." Tibias whispered in her ear, "I will become immortal and have access to Valinor."

She had managed to escape, thanks to her mother, only to be taken again on their journey home. This time she was taken by the sorcerer himself.

Galadwen was dressed in a pitch black gown with a dark veil covering her face. In the cold of the forest, she stood waiting. The dark sorcerer was at a table mixing a potion of some sort. Galadwen knew not what it was, but she knew it was meant for her.

They were completely alone except for a very nervous-looking man, cowering by the table.

The dark sorcerer turned and eyed the Princess with a look of satisfaction. "I have no desires for the physical realm, but perhaps this won't be as unpleasant as first I thought."

Galadwen's mouth was dry as she watched the man, hooded and cloaked. She could not see his face, but the sickness in her stomach told her he was hideous. "Why are you doing this? What do you want with me?" Her voice was shaky, to say the least.

The sorcerer did not answer, he merely continued his work at the table.

"I'll not drink that. You cannot force me!"

He then turned and laughed, a cold and bitter laugh.

"You will do as I say." He turned back and added the last ingredient, which, from where Galadwen stood, looked somewhat like his own saliva.

Again, she asked, in a small voice, "What do you want with me?"

He turned to face her, still hooded from her eyes. "I am going to finish what the Lord Tibias could not. He was weak anyway, he was just a puppet." He moved frighteningly close to her. "You shall bear me an heir and Valinor and all in it will bow down to me. I will have the power that was rightfully mine. Now drink this!" He shouted, making her cringe.

She looked at the phial in his bone-like hand. It was the colour of blood, and her stomach turned just thinking about it.

He turned towards the man cowering by the table and yelled for him to get up. Slowly and cautiously, the man stood.

"I am sorry my, child." He looked at Galadwen, and for the first time she could tell that he was a minister.

Her eyes widened before turning to the liquid she was about to drink. "What is it?"

His eyes were barely visible, but she could make out an amused gleam "Why, my love, it is your fertility potion."

Galadwen stood frozen to the spot by some strange magic. Her heart was pounding out of her chest and she wished desperately that Legolas was there with her. The minister held a book out in front of him.

She had been forced to drink the phial of liquid, which she could now feel burning its way down her body. It had tasted like raw meat that had been dead for a hundred years.

The sorcerer came to stand beside her, motioning for the minister to join them.

"Make it quick, I have to take her before the potion wears off."

Galadwen looked at him. It had only now dawned on her that this foul beast was going to force himself on her. A tear fell from her eye as her whole body shuddered from the thought.

With one wave of his hand, Galadwen 'willingly' lay down on the cold grass.

"Please don't do this!" she screamed into the night, knowing full well that it was useless. The sorcerer lay on top of her and began to tear of her clothing.

She was going to be sick, she could feel it rising in her stomach.

Galadwen visibly shuddered from the memory, and Legolas stepped behind her. He had rescued her just in time and confessed his love for her that very night. A night that will always be remembered as both bitter and sweet.

Galadwen shook her head, looking over to her son, her only child. "They were never after me, it was my child they needed all along. How was I supposed to protect a son I hadn't even conceived?" She sobbed again.

Aragorn looked at his daughter, no longer his little girl, and wished for nothing but to be able to take her pain away.

Eldarion, who has sat as still and silent as stone walked slowly over to his sister, his once-greatest friend in this world, and kissed the top of her head softly. "Look at your son. Galadwen. Really look at him."

Galadwen turned to see Gwydion, strong and proud, if not unsure.

"He is a son to be proud of, a son full of courage and strength. You have protected him and insured that he turn in to the fine man he is today. You raised him well my sister. You raised a fine man."

Galadwen smiled against her tears. She looked up at her brother and saw the agony still living in his eyes. She reached up a hand to his jaw and nodded slowly, before turning to look once more at her father. "So Gwydion's blood can restore the glory of Valinor? How is he supposed to do that?"

Aragorn shock his head slowly. "It was not written how. It was not said when, either. What Gwydion does with this information is his choice. If he so chooses to forget all about it and live out the rest of his life as he had so planned, then so be it. Every member of this family has a destiny of some sort, Gwydion. I ran from my own for many years before accepting it. This information is new to you, and you have all the time you need to decide if you even want to find out how to fulfil it. No one shall make you or put pressure on you. The choice is yours and yours alone."

Gwydion nodded and turned from his expectant family. "I need to be alone for a while." With that he left the hall, leaving his family staring after him, aching for the young man and all that he now must face.

TBC