Chapter 7: Thoughts

Aragorn sat at the end of the hall, on a small stone bench that he found more comfortable than the cushioned chairs about the hall. It also afforded him a good view of the entrance in case anyone felt the need to interrupt his thoughts.

This room was his favorite...it was usually shadowy, even if the sun was shining, so he could very well take a nap if he wanted. Most of the elves stayed away from this area, so it was a great place to be alone. But best of all, he was with Narsil, and it gave him a strange feeling. There always seemed to be a kind of energy about the place, like the dead kings of Gondor were present.

Aragorn leaned back against the wall and sighed. What exactly had Elrond forseen? He knew it must have been more than the battle....there was no doubt that Elrond was keeping something from him. But why would Elrond want to? Nothing made sense anymore... His life was so confusing. Here he was living in a beautiful city, a lovely place where he had friendship, possible love, and adventure. What more could he ask for?

A rustle of velvet and silk interrupted his thoughts. He rose and peered into the shadows and saw Arwen crouching at the foot of Narsil's statue. She gazed at him sheepishly. "I could not help but spy on you. It's what I've done my whole life." Aragorn sensed her curiousity at what he was thinking. Aragorn turned away as if to hide the thoughts that he knew she could not see. "This is where I go to be alone." Aragorn said, surprised at how cold his voice was. But then, she was intruding on his privacy.

Arwen smiled. "I've always liked this room." she said, running her hand along the creases of the statue's garment, "I feel somehow connected to all that has been...and all that will be." Aragorn felt as though he was hearing his own words springing from the beautiful elf's mouth. She bowed her head suddenly. "I shall leave you to your thoughts." Arwen rose and glided out of the room.

Aragorn wanted her to stay. He felt as though she knew him, knew that he wished only to be understood. Bathed in the eerie light from the setting sun, he stood before Narsil, summoning the courage for what he wished to do. he lashed out his arm and grabbed the hilt of the sword.

Then his eyes clouded over and suddenly he felt as though a screen had stretched before his eyes. He was in a large white hall with tapestries and statues...and a man stood by a large chair at the end. There were other people too. A beautiful young woman stood talking in a hushed voice with some men. Aragorn strained to hear...

"We must let one of the wizards take it from him...he has become far too attached to it." One of the young men who had dark hair and icy blue eyes spoke. The other three looked fearful.

"Father will surely punish us if we do anything to stop him. We cannot disturb him. Leave him to his madness...let him die in peace. Then we will be free to take it and do as we will. But til then, let him be at peace." The man who had spoken looked no older than Aragorn.

The woman's eyes flashed with anger as she said "He is never at peace, Ramul! He does not sleep. All the banquets on earth cannot satisfy his hunger. I see him fading, and Gondor fades with him. We must do all we can to save the country we love."

Ramul looked ashamed. Then one of the others spoke. He was tall, and had dark hair and hazel eyes, and his voice was gentle and kind. "Calm yourself, Telesana...We will speak to him." he said.

The small group approached the man by the chair, who looked up at them slowly, his eyes twitching.

"What do you want?" the man asked rudely, looking about him fearfully. The man with the gentle voice spoke:

"Father, we were wondering if we could lock up your trinket in a safe place. Just so it would be safe. That way no one else will get it."

The listener's face grew twisted with anger. "You would seek to take it from me, I know, Shiefen, but I am the king. It is mine." This king spoke in a whisper, his eyes darting about the room. His voice grew louder and filled the halls with its strength. "And while I am king, you shall not try to govern the kingdom behind my back. Guards!" He cried, and the soldiers stationed at the doors snapped to attention. "Take them away!" The men of Gondor looked at one another. They had sworn to protect their king, but should they when he was obviously out of his mind?

"DO AS I SAY!" screamed the king, and the soldiers winced. One by one the members of the small group were taken away. Only the woman looked back and yelled pleadingly "Father, awaken from this cursed sleep! Please, abandon this madness! For Gondor's sake!"

The king only roared "GONDOR IS MINE!!!" Then the doors closed and the woman and her companions were gone. "Yess..." the king hissed, "It is mine...my own..." He drew something from his pocket and held it to his heart.

Suddenly, the vision was gone, and the Hall of Narsil came back into view, and his head began to ache. He collapsed against the statue. There was a reason this vision had come to him...but why? Why had he seen Gondor, and who was that awful tyrant? Sauron?

Confused and exhausted, Aragorn trudged upstairs toward his room.

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