Arwen opened her eyes, slowly, adjusting them to the light.
Her head felt heavy and her vision was blurred, yet she recognised the tall figure standing by her bed post.
She moaned; it was Ada.
"Arwen!" A voice spoke as someone took her hand.
Unable to match the voice with a face she tried to sit up, only to be pushed back down by a warm hand. The hand then traveled to her face and gently touched her cheek.
"Aragorn…" she whispered, her voice barely more than a hoarse whisper. She tried to lift up her hand, but her body simply would not listen to her. It was then she realized how weak she actually was.
What had happened?
The last thing she could remember was a scream. Her own scream. A scream of horror and immense pain, followed by a powerful neigh – Ithildin.
A horrible flashback of his blade flashed through her mind; she could still feel the stinging pain in her chest. She closed her eyes tightly as the feeling came back, the feeling of her entire body growing colder and colder with every breath she took.
The only thought that had crossed her mind was one about death. Luckily, fate did not wish for her to die in the forest, alone with a Nazgul. But where was fate taking her now?
Suddenly the room started spinning, round and round. No matter what she fixed her eyes on, it started moving and the colours blended, making her feel nauseous. She took a deep breath and shut her eyes again.
Oh how wonderful it is here, she thought to herself. There were no motion, no restless figures and no mixed colours. There were nothing but absolutely darkness. She had come to the land of darkness.
She had heard many tales been told about this place, and none had been pleasant. How many nights had she not been kept awake in fear of this place?
Ever since she was a small girl she had feared the shadows, she had swore never to enter the borders of this cold and cursed land. Ever.
The taletellers had spoken of this place as something comparable to Mordor with all it's evil. But the tales were wrong. She had proved it now, once and for all.
It was a rather calm and peaceful place, she actually felt relieved over finally reaching it. The weight on her shoulders lifted and she felt free.
Free as a bird soaring in the blissful sky, far up high, over the green treetops and the captures souls. Here she could rest without disturbance.
She let out a peaceful sigh and surrendered to the darkness...
Author notes :Ithildin Starmoon, elvish for something very shiny and bright
Also, I will try to force Nat (Neitta) to write a sequel starring Aragorn son of Arathorn. If I succeed, make sure you read it
Thanks!