AUTHOR'S NOTE: Just to tell everyone, Cemendur is not a bad Elf; he just allowed his pride as an immortal to overwhelm him (and his love for Arwen). He is just in a rather wretched mood now :). Things are beginning to shift in the story!! The Quest is beginning, and the hobbits are coming!! Gollum makes an appearance in this ch. and someone else you Elf-lovers will enjoy. Legolas Greenleaf is also in this ch. and not for the last time. On another note, I wrote a poem called Every Morning that could be inserted in this story, so if you want you can go read it and review. It would be much appreciated :). It is Arwen's thoughts when Aragorn passes from the circles of the world at last and is veerrry sad. Enjoy ch. 15!!
Cemendur strove to keep from doubling up or falling to the ground on his knees. The sight of Arwen rushing to Aragorn when trapped between the two men made him feel nauseous. Everything swam before his eyes as he fell back a few paces trying to wrench away his gaze. If he did not look away soon something was bound to go terribly wrong inside. He tried taking a deep breath before continuing. Arwen had wrapped her arm around Aragorn's and her hand was enclosed by his, something bold to do for signs of affection were not often done before others among the Elves and higher Men. The name crossed his mind with a grimace as deep dislike suddenly welled up like a spring inside his heart, a feeling he had never had before now.
Arwen entangled his mind and sent everything racing nervously. She had a face so beautiful, an Orc would believe it. No, a Dwarf! She does not need to love a mere Man only because her forebear Lúthien Tinúviel had. Is what they say really true? Does she resemble Tinúviel that closely? Her mind has been deceived into thinking she must follow in the footsteps of the Nightingale. How I wish I could tear her from it to save her from that...that Man! She will die a mortal death because of him! How dare he!
Arwen did not look at him again. Her entire focus remained on Aragorn, that filth of a man. Cemendur raged inside fighting for sanity. I must do what I must.
Arwen held Aragorn's strong arm close as she looked up—well, more like slanted; she was not far shorter than he—into his stormy grey eyes. Something had caused that storm, yet she did not know what. Suddenly a name slid across her mind. Cemendur. She tried her hardest not to look in his direction. All of this had happened in only a few brief moments, but it seemed an eternity before the Evenstar finally had Aragorn walking away, Cemendur left behind. She let out a long breath she had held for that time.
That last choice she had made—coming to Aragorn, her beloved—floated in her mind like an ominous, shadowy cloud. It was as if Cemendur represented immortal Elven-life while Aragorn symbolized the mortality of Men. She had made her choice far earlier; but it was not until now that it began to sink in like a stone weight to the bottom of a sparkling stream.
"Arwen," Aragorn's voice broke through her thoughts, "do you understand what you did?" His voice was as soothing as ever to her mind and heart, like the wind playing upon the grasses during the spring.
She met his gaze once more. "I do, if what you mean is Cemendur. He is deeply troubled in his heart. Something is very wrong." A slight frown creased her forehead.
Aragorn smoothed her brow with a softly stroking hand. A smile lit his face like so many times before. She thought he enjoyed touching her beautifully white skin. "Frowning does not suit you, my love." He laughed when she grinned. His tone grew more serious. "Cemendur actually frightened me. I thought he might try to wrap his hands about my throat if I was not careful the way he looked at me. I have never seen an Elf so distressed and angered. Elrond will have to know of this before Cemendur does something...irrational."
Arwen nodded, but then she wondered if her father would listen. "An Elf has not behaved in such a way for many long years, I would suppose, so he might not believe it of Cemendur after spending time with him in his confidence. Have you ever had that man dig his heels in with you before?"
Aragorn laughed. "Yes. Yes, I have. I would rather not speak of it."
Arwen smiled and shook her head. Now they were entering a beautiful courtyard where two or three trees grew as high as the structures, looming over the two gleaming figures arm-in-arm. Lush vegetation swelled around them all bright and colourful. Most everything was green, gold, silver, or rich blue or brown; yet there were some things that were vivid red like blood or so violet it was almost dark blue, if only a few. Ivy crawled up the walls, clinging and draping gracefully on the chalky stone. The place was alive with emerald green glimmering in the moonlight.
"Cemendur worries me," said Aragorn with a hint of anxiety in his voice. Arwen was surprised. Nothing could worry her Estel. Nothing. "He is...unexplainable really. There is no other way to describe it. At least when he is near you or me. When he was with Elrond I saw nothing to fret over. Now I am not so sure."
"Estel, I would not torment yourself over this," she said looking up at him. "Elrond would have his hide in an instant if he knew what was happening behind his back. Now that I think of it, that might be a pleasant idea letting Elrond know."
"They said you were in Lothlórien," said Aragorn.
"I was for a time, yet Elrond sent for me for the passes and roads are becoming dangerous to travel even for Elves. I returned only a day ago."
"Dúnadan?"
Arwen and Aragorn both turned their heads to look in the direction of that chiming, clear voice. Aragorn's smile reappeared so quickly it might never have left his face. "Legolas!" he cried meeting Arwen's gaze briefly as if asking permission to leave her for the moment. He walked briskly to meet a slim, tall Elf wearing brown and green garments of the forest. From Mirkwood. The named Legolas had hair commonly seen on an Elf; it was pale gold, like sunlight shining through fresh honey. He was very fair like Cemendur and just as tall but barely to Aragorn's height. He and Aragorn exchanged bows.
Arwen stepped forward when Legolas finally caught sight of her...or perhaps paid attention. She felt the beginnings of a smile tug at the corners of her full mouth when Legolas was staring though attempting to hide his wonder. Aragorn appeared amused at his friend's expression.
"Legolas, I introduce to you Arwen Undómiel, Evenstar of her people and of the Elves, daughter of Elrond who has newly returned to Rivendell," he said.
Arwen could not help but finally smile when Legolas bowed over her hand with a hand on his chest. His intense blue eyes, blue as the water in Valinor, studied her in one glance. He smiled as much as he could staring and released her pale, long-fingered hand. Aragorn was watching with a bemused smile as his friend gazed in wonder upon his beloved.
1. "Elyë haryavelicë meldor, meldanya," she said softly. Aragorn turned his head to look upon her when he heard her gentle voice. Fondness glistened in his grey eyes. They looked somewhat silver in the starlight.
Legolas's face became slightly abashed when he heard Arwen name Aragorn her beloved. He bowed saying in a muffled voice, "I shall leave you two to your business while I attend to my duty. My father sent me here to deliver a message to Master Elrond and now would be well for he has most likely heard of my coming some time ago."
Aragorn reached out a hand to his friend. "Nay, Legolas; stay with us for a while. You will not regret it." He smiled.
Legolas's head tilted slightly as he scrutinized the Elf and Man with those blazing blue eyes. Arwen had rarely seen such a brilliant colour except in Lothlórien where the Elves' eyes were always bright as polished gems. They contrasted sharply with his pale honey-coloured hair glimmering in the light of golden lamps lit to keep away the darkness. If Aragorn had not been, Legolas would have stolen her heart with that strong and tempered gaze. His slim form seemed poised for whatever might occur like a wild but graceful animal. Much more graceful.
Aragorn, Legolas, and Arwen—who walked between the two men—began striding through the courtyard and out into the less tame land where the trees grew tall and thick; yet they were beautiful all the same just as all of Rivendell had been for the two Ages it had existed in Middle-earth. Everything was beautiful. Some was well-nigh as lovely as in Eldamar itself. Lothlórien and Rivendell merged into one kingdom would be a glimpse of Valinor in Middle-earth, yet they were two utterly unique places when separate as they were now.
"How fare the Elves in Mirkwood?" asked Arwen of Legolas.
"Many hearts darken with this Age," he said sadly. "The numbers journeying to the Grey Havens has increased twofold in the past year for the Elves cannot stem the tide of darkness falling upon us all. We all appeal to the Valar to aid us in this terrible plight or that we would see the end of such despair in Middle-earth."
Aragorn nodded sadly. "As do we all who remember the earth years before the Dark Lord began to take shape. It must be worse for those of immortal kind."
"Indeed it can be," said Legolas. "I have lived long, yet these are not the darkest days I have seen in my many years." His eyes were shrouded by a sudden dimness. "If the Shadow's arm grows any longer...they shall be just as terrible as those in the Second Age long ago."
Arwen looked up into the dark heavens where scores of shining stars sparkled without thought of the gloom about them. "At least there are some who do not know of the troubles of the world, or allow it to concern them in their far lands. I have heard the Halflings are well-kept in the Shire and do not even realise what is happening in all the other lands and kingdoms."
"For which I am ever thankful," murmured Aragorn.
"I have never seen these strange folk," said Legolas, "yet I have heard of their ways and manners. They sound an odd people."
Aragorn smiled. "They work miracles for the heart. Seeing their unquenchable cheer lightens the spirit. I would hope to be among them one day when the Shadow is vanquished so that I might enjoy it without grievance."
"Is there not one of the Halflings here in Imladris?" asked Arwen.
Aragorn paused for a moment. "I believe so. Bilbo Baggins is his name and is a dear friend of Gandalf the Grey and Lord Elrond. He even speaks Sindarin when he is wont or is greeted by the Elves. He has journeyed here from the Shire some years ago and is abiding here until his end perhaps."
"I should meet with him then," said Legolas with a radiant smile.
The three fair folk spent another hour speaking with one another and walking beneath the brilliant stars. The night was still and cool without a breath of wind moving through the trees or stirring the grass. Silver light was cast upon them creating a vision of splendour and light. They all were close companions in years after.
Later Aragorn left Rivendell to take up the trail of Gollum once more even though it seemed so hopeless. Aragorn refused to give up and admit defeat. Gandalf also was with Aragorn tracking their prey for the next eight years of their lives. In a later time, Gandalf left Aragorn to it alone to take care of his own business thinking they would never find Gollum ever again.
Aragorn lifted his feet out of the muck. He grimaced at the rank smell of the Dead Marshes and avoided looking into the water. Dead faces stared up at him from ages long ago, a bloody battle won and lost. He searched the horizon with his keen eyes hoping to leave soon. The search was becoming rather despairing until, finally, a few traces of life brought a surge of hope rushing through him. It was the only thing keeping him on his feet in the wretched swamp.
"He will pay for this," he muttered moving carefully and swiftly through the squelching earth trying to suck him in. The sun had only just set behind him as he made his way further East where he least likely would ever have gone.
Gollum was in deeper trouble than he knew. The creature was moving erratically across the marsh and Aragorn had to watch for signs of him very carefully with the dying light. This was the time of night Gollum would be most active when the sun and moon both were not in the dark sky.
His foot stumbled in a rut and he cursed the creature as he caught himself before falling face first in the odd-coloured water. A flitting light came in front of him making him blink. The lights of the Dead Marshes were the most dangerous beings there, so he looked away quickly moving his feet the other way just as hastily.
One shining star stood out in the few others that scattered across the heavens. It pulsed with a pure light above the earth in the West guiding those who sailed into the Undying Lands. Its light reached to his very heart. It was the Star of Eärendil, the Great Mariner of the skies whose descendant held Aragorn's heart in her own. A vision of her stunning form sitting by a river reading a worn book moved across his eyes for an instant. He sighed deeply for the sight of her.
Suddenly, a fresh track sprang up in front of Aragorn and he halted in his step abruptly staring at it. It was very fresh. He crouched lower to the ground in case Gollum was closer than he thought. He moved forward without a sound, this time ignoring the fetid smell and squashy marsh ground. Aragorn halted once more. Gollum was a hundred yards ahead of him staring hard into a pool of marshy water, no doubt at his reflection. Aragorn crept forward ever cautiously for he knew the abilities of the small, slimy creature. His large eyes glowed palely in the soft light of the stars and his sickly-coloured skin glistened wetly. When he was closer he began to hear it muttering to itself strange things along with a many gollum in its throat.
"Its preciousssss. We must gets it back," Gollum hissed. "They stole it from us, they did. Gollum. Our preciousssss!" Gollum glared up at the heavens. "She'll see us, she will. Nasssty, burning light!" he whined in a piteous voice.
Aragorn grimaced slightly at hearing his words as he came near at hand to Gollum. The pool of water rippled violently when Gollum's bony hand splashed into it convulsively as he whimpered and whined to himself. "We wantsss it back, precious. We wantssss it! He won't get it from usss."
Gollum's voice changed. "But he'll kill us, kill usss!"
Aragorn was now close enough to lay a hand on the creature, close enough to capture him. His heart raced with adrenaline and anticipation. The time had finally come when Gollum would be detained for information about his past. In one fluid, faster-than-sight movement Aragorn was upon Gollum/Sméagol.
"Nooo!" it wailed. "He mustn't get it!"
Aragorn struggled to hold on to the slippery thing and it took all he had. Gollum was much stronger than he might have looked being so bony and small, yet Aragorn had the strength of Men...so the only issue was holding on.
"It hurtses us, precious," Gollum sobbed loudly. Aragorn cried out in pain when he sunk his sharp teeth into Aragorn's hand that held on to an arm, making him grip even harder. He pushed Gollum to the ground forcefully to stifle the grappling between them. All of this lasted for what seemed ages...but was only seconds. At last Aragorn had the creature under control, and he slipped a rope around his neck to lead him on. In that time he had gained a few bruises and cuts and been bitten twice by those cutting jaws that clamped on as hard as death.
"Stay still and obey unless you wish to meet your end at last, foul beast," Aragorn muttered angrily at the whimpering form huddled on the wet ground. Gollum did not answer so Aragorn tugged on the slim yet strong rope to move him forward.
They had to make their way at once to the realm of the Elves in Mirkwood. He had spoken to Legolas—Prince of Mirkwood, son of Thranduil—when the Elf was in Rivendell years earlier about Gollum/Sméagol and what they were to do with him when captured. Legolas told him to bring the captive to the halls of Mirkwood once he was attained because of the Elves' vigilance.
The unlikely pair made their way through the Dead Marshes with care, one pulling the other mercilessly feeling the pain of teeth in his hands; Gollum deserved no mercy for the things he had done. At one point when they were reaching the end of the Marshes Gollum decided, unwisely, to attempt escape. Aragorn felt a sharp tug on the rope as Gollum wrenched it with his hands for the creature was trying to take it off his neck. He was hissing and muttering curses as he did. Aragorn jerked it just hard enough to lift Gollum off his feet and head face first into the water. He squealed before he came up sputtering and thrashing.
"I told you to obey and hold still! You must not struggle for your own good," Aragorn said loud enough to be heard by Gollum only.
"We hatess him. We hatesss them both!" Gollum yelled with his hands trembling over the rope. If anything ever irritated Aragorn, it was Gollum. Nothing else had ever gotten under his skin like him in such a brief time. He took a sharp intake of breath and kept himself from coughing because the stench of the Dead Marshes filled his nostrils before he could stop it. There was a new smell now just as terrible. He glanced over his shoulder at Gollum who was continuing in his thorny whining. This is going to be a very long road.
1. You possess great friends, my beloved.