Chapter 28

You Cannot Stop Me

Arya awoke from her sleep with a start, her breath coming fast and sharp as sweat rolled down her forehead. Her nightmares had been steadily growing worse over the past few days. Visions of her father berating her for having failed. Blood thirsty wargs and uruks turning on her. Tari, coming toward her to finish her off.

Her hands reached out to her side-table, fumbling for the candle and match. The vase of dried flowers fell to the stone floor with an audible crash, glass shards of different sizes skidding everywhere. "Damn it to Mordor!" she cursed, waving her hand and lighting the candle by magic.

Light seeped into the room, illuminating the chamber with an eery orange glow. Arya threw back the covers, intending to sweep up the broken vase, when movement caught her eye from the chair near the door. With an audible gasp, she leapt out of the bed, feeling sharp glass prick her soft feet.

"You!" she hissed, the taint of fear evident in her malicious voice.

Tari, dressed in black traveling garb and an equally dark cloak merely glared at Arya from where she sat leisurely in the ebony leather arm-chair. The princess watched as a trickle of blood pooled under Arya's cut feet. Standing up, she saw Arya's gaze harden and her eyes narrow.

"How did you get in here?" the witch spat, watching Tari rise from the chair, discarding her cloak easily.

Tari couldn't help but allow herself a sarcastic grin. "I opened the door, and walked inside. Isn't that how you do it?"

"Your sarcasm won't save you bitch!" Arya snapped, infuriated that her enemy was so calm.

Tari continued to grin. "It won't save you either. Tell me, how does it feel, knowing that the one person you have tried so hard to kill and corrupt is standing here in you chamber, unharmed, while you are weaponless, vulnerable, and bleeding?"

Arya let out a low growl in the back of her throat, her fists clenching involuntarily.

"Aren't you going to use your magic and kill me, Arya? Manipulate my mind?" Tari asked, the point of her riding boots fiddling with a long and sharp shard of glass. She gave it a sharp flick with her heel, sending it spinning at Arya's ankles. It left a deep long gash on the pale flesh, before sticking into the wall behind.

Arya let out a muffled cry of pain as she felt the glass slice against her foot. Crimson blood poured from the wound.

"That's not even close to the pain I've been made to suffer." Tari growled.

Rage filling every fiber of her, Arya summoned all her power, focusing on the one thing she wanted; to kill Tari.

Tari watched in satisfaction as Arya's eyes darkened with anger, trying to summon magic. Nothing happened.

Voices filled Arya's head; screams of pain and howls of suffering. Images of death and torture flashed past her eyes as she tried to rid the voices that were growing louder in her mind. She could hear her father... All of the people she had killed...

'You failed... I knew you would...''Join us witch... Join us in everlasting death...''You will suffer our pain...''There is no escape from your sins...''...Magic won't save you now...''Prepare to die by the hand of thine enemy... The one you really fear...'

"Stop! Stop! Shut up! Dina!" (silence) she cried, her hands over her ears and her eyes shut tightly.

Tari watched as Arya sank to her knees in fright and pain, oblivious that Tari was still in front of her. "They're waiting for you Arya..." she hissed.

Hands seemed to reach out, trying to grab her and bring her into the shadows of death and despair...

'Death has no pity...''Our pain is yours now...''Die...''Your servants will turn and gut you like they did us...''Tari will win...''Die...''Death will not save you from the pain...''We will not rest... Your soul belongs to us now...''DIE!'

"NOOOOO!" Arya screamed, her cries echoing over the Sea to those even in Valinor. "Make it stop!"

Tari strode forward, and knelt before the screaming witch, her hand extended to the elleth's eye level. Her face was expressionless; her eyes free of any emotion.

Through all her pain and fear as the darkness surrounded her, Arya saw a hand outstretched, holding a dagger with a serpentine handle with rubies for eyes. Her father's dagger. It would end her suffering - end the voices and screams that filled her head. Make the hands vanish and release her. Wouldn't it? Removing her hands that seemed to stifle the screams of agony, she snatched the dagger from the ghostly hand, feeling the cold handle beneath her fingers as the voices double and screeched.

'...No one can save you...''You are all alone...''End it... Do it now...!'

Arya raised the dagger above her chest...

'Spill your blood... End the pain...''Die witch!''We are waiting...''Your blood shall fall with ours...'

The moment the dagger pierced her heart, the screams suddenly stopped, and the visions disappeared. And then, she felt the pain... the agony... She felt the blood that poured from the gaping wound. With a horrified gasp at what she had done, she brought her hands slowly to the bleeding gash. Her breath came sharp in her chest as she lost liter after liter of blood... She felt her head hit the stone floor, and dimly heard footsteps approach her. The face of Tari loomed above her; a stoic mask.

"You did this to yourself, Arya. I merely gave you the weapon..." Tari hissed, leaning close to Arya's pointed ear.

Arya watched in horror as the shadowy figure of Atalantawen appeared beside Tari, glaring down at her.

Tari glanced over her shoulder at Tala, before turning her gaze back upon Arya, a small smile lingering upon her pale lips. "The voices you heard were Atalantawen manipulating your mind, and calling forth the bloody visions of your past. Your fear made them real. You imagined the hands of all you'd killed grabbing at you. It was you who plunged the glass shard into your heart, believing it to be your father's dagger. You killed yourself Arya, not me."

The bitter metallic taste of blood was heavy in Arya's throat as she tried to comprehend what was being said. Her vision flickered, and she felt a wave of sleepiness wash over her.

"I pity you, Arya." Tari sighed. "Even if you tried to kill me and my own young daughter, I still have an ounce of pity left for you. But that mere drop of sympathy is drowned by a wave of hatred and disgust. I can never forgive you for what you've done. You and your father took away my life." Tari stood up, and made for the door as Atalantawen faded from sight.

Tari turned to look upon the near dead she-elf lying upon the stone ground. "The orcs that you sent to Rivendell have retreated before even reaching the borders. They know you are going to die." She opened the door, and stood in the hallway, her eyes still locked with Arya's. "Now, I am going to try and rebuild the life you took away from me. I'm going to give my daughter the life she deserves. I'm going to live among my kin, and rule beside my husband." Tari whispered. She watched Arya until she took a deep breath, but did not exhale. It was done... It was over... "You cannot stop me... Not anymore."

Wow... Exciting, eh? chants Ding Dong the Witch is Dead!I will post the last two chapter on the same day, as a treat. ButI have to get LOTS of reviews if you want them both as early as tomorrow...I can't believe it's almost over...