Note: Here's the second chapter written by the second author, Gondor Girl. Hope you enjoy this chapter! please feel free to R&R as in the other chapters...
The sun lay low on the horizon, the fields were bare, and the moon was beginning to rise as Almárëa stood upon the edge of the hill. She was standing upon the hill of Edoras, the hill where her town, her life, rested. She stood outside the gates, outside the walls, outside the commotion of the city. She loved this spot, this moment, this time, this place, for it took her away, and brought her to a sense of complete peace.
Now as she stood, she gazed out o'er the fields, looking first east, then west, then to the south, where stood the mountains of white, the mountains of Gondor. She saw the mountains, the fields, the wide, vast, open spaces, and her heart flew. It soared across the fields to lands she had never heard, and across the mountains to lands she had never seen. Then it came to rest on a mountaintop, where she longed to be.
Almárëa looked down, then, for no real reason at all, and there she looked upon herself, a maiden, fair in face, but more fair in spirit and mind, but those were unknown to all save herself. She saw a girl, whose heart soared to the mountains, but whose feet would only willingly carry herself for a few feet, only just beyond the comfort of her walls. Yet she longed, with all earnest, to be free, to fly past the walls, up to the mountains, and beyond.
And there, nestled against her chest, was a necklace, something that she wore always, but never really knew about. It was said to be an elven jewel, and that was not hard to believe, for it was so beautiful that it could not be otherwise. The jewel was in the shape of a star, perhaps even the sun, but she knew not why. It had only a single small jewel, a sapphire, brilliant beyond words. It's light echoed through her veins, and she was comforted.
She desired just then to meet the makers of such a fine piece of work. She knew that they dwelled in Caras Galadhon, a name she knew, but never truly. The name was an echo to her, a sound that came from long ago, when her mother told her of her birth. She knew that she had been brought into the world in Lothlorien, in Caras Galadhon, but she knew not what the city was, nor where it was. She had never been, only her parents had remembered, and neither of them lived.
Now Almárëa looked back up, up and further upward, towards the mountains, where her heart still lay. Slowly, but surely, her heart began to float upward, then back down again, coming slowly, until at last it reached its owner, and rested in its place inside her. Now, she knew that she must come back to reality, but it was slow coming, for she had no willingness to return. But, finally, she turned her back on the mountains, and began to slowly move her feet back down the hill, to the gates of Edoras.