Chapter Seven: Revelations

The valley of Rivendell was quiet, the sounds of the night the only true noise that echoed through the halls of Imladris. Trees swayed in contentment as the chill breeze wound through the basin, stirring their multicolored leaves. Bruinen flowed on, the sound of its rushing waters a soothing balm to the inhabitants of the surrounding forest. Elves moved soundlessly through the foliage, changing guards for the night, ever watchful and present among the vegetation.

While outside the wind howled, inside a fire blazed merrily in the hearth, lighting the great hall and chasing all shadows away. Legolas could hear the panes rattling, shaking with force of mother natures' power. He could taste winter on the air, crisp and clean. It would come early this year and would be harsh for all. He suspected that they could expect the winter to last for many months into the new-year. He turned at the sound of his name, nodding when Aragorn motioned him over. Taking one last glance at the brooding darkness outside, Legolas sighed and stepped over to the table where the others had seated themselves.

Servants rushed through the great hall, tending the fire and brining refreshment to the weary travelers the sate their hunger until the evening meal could be served. The hobbits and Gimli had lit their pipes upon entering and were enjoying the last few moments of calm before the storm to flow through them. Aragorn and Arwen had seated themselves next to Elladan, who sat to the right of Elrond while Elrohir positioned himself on the left. Legolas took the seat next to the dark haired twin, nodding absently when he was offered a cup of wine.

He turned to his small friends, a half-smile lighting his features. "I don't suppose you will ever quit that habit will you?" Hope was laced in his tone. Sam stared at him, frowning in mock indignation.

"Now, Mister Legolas! That's not a thing to joke about, especially not when winter's comin' on. It's not nice to tease a hobbit about quitting his pipe."

Legolas shook his head, smiling wanly at the muted laughter that rang around the table. "I fear I was not joking Sam," he said quietly, meeting the shocked gazes of his four little companions, "However, I will contain myself to endure your.habits." He grimaced as Frodo blew another very large ring, the burning stench assaulting the fair beings senses. "However foul it may be." His voice was pitched low so that only Elladan, Elrohir, and Arwen laughed. The hobbits, not understanding what would cause the siblings such merriment merely shrugged and continued with their leisure, joining the others at the table to begin their meeting.

Elrond, for his part, mostly ignored the conversation and rustlings taking place all around him. He was plagued by frustrated incomprehension. He had no recollection as to what this evil might be. As a Lore Keeper, he felt as though he should have some knowledge about the danger that had garnered such bold actions from the orcs. It was not possible that they acted of their own accord, which only left the question what was leading them and concentrating the forces so smoothly. The darkness he had seen and felt from the woman made his blood run cold. Such unadulterated evil he had not felt for many, many centuries. And now, he did not know what to do. Silently he prayed to the Valar, asking them for guidance and counsel, praying in his heart that Mithrandir would soon show himself and have some answers to the questions he held.

Legolas had been sitting patiently, sipping thoughtfully on his wine and nibbling idly on some fruit. Once again he had found his wandering thoughts turning to the woman he had carried here on Arod. His piercing eyes fell to the Lord of Imladris as he sat slightly slumped, his body language expressing great exhaustion and concern. As much as he wanted to, he could no longer contain his curiosity.

He turned his steady gaze to the Lord of Rivendell. "How fares the woman?"

Elrond met his gaze, shaking himself out of his own brooding manner to see to the task at hand. He looked around the table and noted that all conversation had ceased and the others were regarding him with concern and worry gracing their features. Suddenly, he found himself barraged with questions from all that sat around him. Gimli and the hobbits were seeking answers rather loudly, adding only to further the chaos that had so quickly and unexpectedly dissolved. He raised his hands, silently demanding silence. When all had once again fallen quiet and the servants had taken their leave, Elrond turned to Legolas to answer him. "She sleeps deeply now. The poison that infected her blood was none that I have ever encountered before and the healing was both difficult and time consuming. For now, she and her companion are safe and being well cared for by Airioswen and her aids. Should anything else happen or should she relapse in any way, Airioswen will send for me." Legolas opened his mouth to reply, but Elrond cut him off, nodding his head to the unspoken question in the Prince's eyes. "I understand your concern, all of you," he said, addressing his guests with his eyes, "but we must take care of more pressing matters right now. After we have finished and the evening meal is over, you may take your leave to see them for yourselves. For now, I would ask that you tell me what exactly transpired on your journey here. I would find some answers before this evening is over." He finished speaking waiting for their nods of approval before continuing.

"Now. Estel," he said, addressing his foster son by his Elvish name, "tell me what happened. Leave nothing out. The smallest detail may be of the greatest significance."

Aragorn nodded, beginning their tale and recounting the events of the past few weeks with as much accuracy as he could recall. He had aid, of course, from his wife and the other members of his company, the hobbits sharing their own parts where and when they deemed necessary. When he arrived at the point where Legolas had finally told them of the shadow he had felt, Elrond stopped him, looking sharply at the younger elf. Legolas, for his part, met the intense gaze of the elder, waiting for his question.

"When was it you first felt this.shadow?"

Legolas shifted, pausing to collect himself. "I first felt a presence as we crossed Tharbad. It was nothing substantial, merely.a feeling," he said, trying to express the deep evil he had felt in words. "It was the kind of feeling one gets when he is sitting to far away from the fire, the chill air contrasting with the warmth so close at hand. The feeling appeared to gain in strength as we came nearer to the shadow of the Misty Mountains."

Elrond pondered his words carefully, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. From his right, Elladan spoke. "I have felt such a thing as well, Atar. Legolas describes the feelings with exactness. But they have been quite strong of late to me, radiating ill intent and only now do I fully understand the implications they have presented. The days have been shadowed with mist as the darkness grows bolder."

Elrond nodded, for the first time acknowledging his understanding of what they had been feeling and of his own experience with the strange darkness. "I, too, have felt these strange things." The Lord of Imladris stood, turning to gaze into the darkness beyond the window. He stood there in silence a moment before continuing. "I have no memory of such evil."

Shocked silence radiated throughout the hall. Elrond Peredhil, who had lived for more centuries that one would bother to count, Lore Keeper and Lord of Imladris, in the Common Tongue, Rivendell, did not know what this darkness was. It was Gimli who first broke the silence. "How then do we fight this?"

Elrond turned back to them, his eyes dark and troubled. "I do not know, Gimli, Son of Gloin. I only know that the woman who lies unconscious upstairs, the woman whom you brought to me, Legolas Thranduilion, is somehow our only hope."

Her tears had long since stopped. She had seated herself on a hard rock in the middle of her desolate world, her mind and heart consumed with such anguish, such pain, that everything had jumbled together, creating a haze of agony that was never ending. Her voice was hoarse from crying out, hoping beyond hope that Nadriel would hear her pleas and come to take her away from this place, back to safety.home. She knew, in her heart, that this was not reality, this was not where she was supposed to be. But fear kept her trapped in this bleak place her mind had created and Meroryan did not know how to draw out of it.

In her subconscious she remembered Nadriel's words, words that had long since become lost in the shuffle of her life, no longer relevant, she had supposed, since the death of her family was so long past. But now, in her desperation, in her hurting heart, she could hear them ring true and clear. "Never lose hope in yourself. You are strong, young one. So very strong. Hold tight to that strength, to the courage that I KNOW is in you. Never forget that you are a child of the Tua De Dannaa and that you hold within you the power of the Mistics. Never forget who you are."

These words echoed through her soul, her heart pounding with emotion. Oh Nadriel, where are you? It had been several years since she had seen her mentor and tutor. They had parted when Meroryan had made her way to America, Nadriel stating that he didn't think there would be any place to hide and keep himself hidden for long in the budding society. She had agreed, but deep inside she had been breaking. Nadriel had been there, a part of her life, ever since she had reached her fifth century, Relampago by their sides. But now she had no one, not even the man from her past dreams had come to this desolate place.

She sighed heavily, her thoughts scattering, unable to give her the solace she sought. The shadow again rose, unbidden in her mind. She shivered, feeling the cold dread wash through her again as evil touched the corner of her mind. She had never encountered anything so dark. Pushing her fear and worry to the back of her mind, she focused solely on what had transpired before the darkness had fled, leaving her in this world of gray. There had been the shadow, threatening, painful and harsh. It had strangled her in its grasp, draining her strength and feeding off of her fear and pain. Her anguished cries had only served to amuse it and she could still hear the shrill sound of its laughter in her ears. Her bones had turned to ice beneath its touch, her strength drawn away with every excruciating wave that had hit her. Meroryan had been blindsighted by the agony. And in her fevered mind, she had felt every tingle, every needle of pain.

Her eyes were closed so deep was her concentration. Behind the ice and anguish, she could remember feeling Nadriel and Relampago, their strength and courage flowing through her veins. But it hadn't been enough to keep the shadow at bay, to stop the evil from threatening to consume her. Something else had joined their fight when all hope had been drowned beneath her despair. Something beautiful and pure, a shimmering white light had emerged, slowly at first, then gaining in power as it came closer to her. And the voice, that beautiful, melodic voice that had been behind it. She sighed, remembering the utter peace and joy she had felt upon hearing such a wondrous sound.

In the end, that was what had saved her. That rich voice had dispersed the shadow, freeing her from her prison of ice. Meroryan had clutched desperately to that light, pleading silently with whomever or whatever it was to stay, not to leave her in the darkness of her mind. But it had left, taking with it that beautiful luminosity.

What little strength she had garnered in her brief respite, disappeared as she opened her eyes, drained due to the intensity of her meditation. Their depths were filled with weariness and hidden torture. She placed her head despairingly into her hands. She had never felt so alone in all her life, even when she had started her life without Nadriel and Relampago. "Someone please, come soon."

To say that Sharnok was angry would be putting it very mildly. The Ancient was furious with his minions. They had failed him, and such failures he did not take lightly. Already, three lay dead, their rotting corpses laying in their own black blood, and if Sharnok dared hear anymore foul news that might ruin his plans, he could guarantee the five Captains who stood quivering before him that they would join their companions in death. "Are you telling me she escaped?"

Garnor bowed his head lower to the earth, his frame trembling from fear at the voice who spoke to him. The Uruk-hai could tell what wrath lay behind that calm façade and he had no intention of brining it down upon himself. "There were unexpected complications, O Great One. She was much stonger than we had anticipated and killed many of ours before we had a chance to retaliate. And we were forced to split our forces to chase after her companion. We did not know that there would be another there with her. And then there were the men who came to rescue her. We would have taken her if it had not been for the elf," Garnor spit the name out as a curse, for he despised the fair creatures, "and his friends. We had no idea that they would come from Rivendell to save her and finish my men off."

Garnor stopped his words as he noticed the stillness permeating around Sharnok. Too late, he realized that he had not taken as much care with his words as he should have and had angered the Ancient. "Are you calling me a liar, Garnor? A false leader? Choose your words carefully." Sharnok's voice dripped with venomous ice, fury hidden beneath his tone.

The Uruk captain hurried to reassure his Lord, fearful for his life. " Nay, Lord! Never that! It is by our own foolishness that we had no knowledge of this other. I assure, though, it will not happen again."

Sharnok sneered, "See that it doesn't, else you will be answering to me." He turned away from them, his mind consumed with rage. She had not come alone. That was an unexpected consequence that could play to his benefit later on. For now, he would have to wait for another opportunity to take her. If she truly was in the land of the Elves, Sharnok would have no access to her for some time to come. The elf Lord known as Elrond would have saved her by now and his poison would be useless against her a second time. As a guardian, she would be able to build an immunity to his concoction rapidly, rendering it ineffective against her. He may be able to use it against those that she cared for, however, and that would be where she would fall. His plans must now be altered to adjust for this inexcusable blunder. He could not fail in this. He WOULD not fail in this.

"Go now! Send troops to watch closely the borders of Rivendell. And see to it that you are not caught. Inform me of any movements regarding the woman." As the Captains rose to leave, Sharnok spoke his parting words. "And Captain, do not fail me again."

The Great Hall of Rivendell had fallen silent with Elrond's words, each contemplating what he could mean by them. Aragorn closed his eyes, his brow furrowed with worry and confusion. She would be their savior from this dark? That little bit of a child that lay upstairs, healing from grievous wounds? He could not fathom the truth behind his Father's words, yet he knew that they must be true if Elrond believed this to be so. But why? What would make the Lord of Imladris have such faith in a mere slip of a girl he had yet to even speak to, to even meet and garner a name from?

"Atar." Aragorn's quiet voice drifted across the room, breaking the uneasy silence. "Why would you believe this?"

Elrond stood with his back to them, his eyes roaming the forest beyond the window blindly. He let silence fall once more before speaking to them, letting some of his thoughts be known. "In truth, Elessar, I do not know. My mind bids me bear caution toward this child, yet my heart and my spirit tell me that she holds great knowledge and power. I sense purity and greatness in her," he turned then to face them, his eyes a troubled sea of grey, "and I cannot ignore my heart."

"None here would blame you for that, Atar," Arwen spoke then, her melodic voice calm and soothing to their ragged nerves, "nor would they condemn you for placing belief in this young one. Her companion held great faith in her, begging us to save her, and her trust speaks to me in volumes of the goodness of her friend. I have faith in your judgment, father."

Elladan and Elrohir both nodded their approval, the eldest lending his words of assurance. "You have never led our people astray, father. As Captain of our troops, we will follow, whatever your decision may be."

"Gondor stands beside Imladris. I will not lose faith in the one who has brought me through so much. Command it done, and by my blood it will be so." Aragorn's fervent words stirred them all, 'til any doubt that would have been obvious to any outside observer only moments before, was gone, scattered on the wind of hope.

Elrond smiled gently, not for the first time, nor for the last, grateful for these, his children. They had born much hardship and suffering together and their support and acceptance meant much to him. His gaze swept the room, noting the looks of determination and pride that each of those present now carried. His worry fled then, knowing these people as he did, knowing of their strength and courage, their hope and love for one another. It would be such emotions, such feelings that would get them through this darkness. They would prevail. "I thank you for your faith. I only hope that it is not misplaced and that my words will hold true."

He sat back in his seat, his eyes coming to rest on the hobbits seated a little further down on his right. "Master hobbits, I would not ask you to stay here and fight this evil with us. You have done much to aid Middle Earth and Valar knows you have already paid for your loyalty ten fold. I then excuse you from any duty, any responsibility. You are free to return to your homes, to enjoy the comfort and the life that you have been missing for the past two and a half years."

Nearly all laughed at the incensed looks that graced every one of their features. Each one of them looked at Elrond as though he had sprouted horns and grown a tail. "Now Mister Elrond, that's not nice. To think that you would think we would leave our friends at such a time.well, it's just.just."

"Not nice." Pippin finished for Sam and, Sam in turn, gave his thanks.

"Truly, Lord Elrond, we would like to be here to help in any way we can. We will not abandon those who would not abandon us. If we can lend our aid in any way, then we will do so with all our power and skill." The other hobbits nodded at Frodo's fervent words and Elrond smiled gently.

"I had forgotten the incredible bravery that resides in such a small and passionate people. Very well, you shall stay at your will." He held up his hands for calm as the hobbits slapped each other on the backs and smiled cheerfully at the other members seated around them. Aragorn clasped Arwen's hand, his smile radiating his respect and love for these hobbits. He had seen them face the greatest terrors of Middle Earth and not quail beneath the storm. He was grateful to have them staying by their side. He knew that their courage and light heartedness would be a welcome presence when they finally did face this mysterious darkness.

Legolas had been sitting there, consumed with his thoughts and with the information that Lord Elrond had just revealed to them. The woman. He had known when he had touched her that she was something special. He couldn't shake the feeling that she was familiar to him somehow, that he knew her from somewhere. But he couldn't place it, no matter how hard he tried to come up with a plausible explanation. And then the things that Elrond had just spoken regarding her.Legolas did not know what to think.

"If.she should.die, Lord Elrond, what will happen?"

Elrond turned to look Legolas, his eyes meeting the storm blue ones that gazed steadily on. "I do not know, Legolas. We can only hope that the aid we have given her will be enough to fight off whatever poison is left within her body. For now, we wait," Elrond held up his hand, staving off whatever words the Prince would have spoken. "I know what you would say, young one, and I agree with you. But we must wait and let her body heal itself. It is the best solution for now. She needs what little rest she can garner to battle the force that I felt working inside of her. We will need all her strength if what my heart tells me is true."

"Then, Lord Elrond, you are more wise than I have ever imagined you."

Elrond's head snapped up at this new voice, catching the twinkle in the blue eyes that met his own. "Mithrandir!"

The first thing that registered in Elsie's mind was the pain in her shoulder. Oh, man, what the hell did I do last night? She tried hard to remember what exactly had happened but her mind was fogged and hazy. Everything was blurry. And she couldn't open her eyes.

Elsie started to panic, her fear rising up to choke her. What had happened to her? Had she been kidnapped? Raped! Where was she? She didn't recognize the smells or feel of the room around her. What was going on?

A hand touched her shoulder, making her draw back in fear. There were people here. A voice spoke to another presence in the room, the strange language beautiful to listen to. The sound of a door opening and closing alerted her to the fact that one had left. A cup was pressed against her lips and the cool, clear taste of water made her gulp greedily.

"Slowly now, child. You must not drink too quickly or you will make yourself sick." The soft voice was reassuring and calm, easing most of Elsie's fears.

"W-.where." Her voice was raspy and strange to her ears and she could not find the strength to speak.

"Shh. You are in Rivendell. You are safe now."

Rivendell? What? She struggled again to open her eyes, with some success this time. She could see very little and most was hazy. She could see that someone was leaning over her, wiping her brow with a cool cloth. "Who are you?" She managed to ask, finally finding some sound.

"I am called Airioswen. I am a healer here in Rivendell, under the instruction of Lord Elrond."

What the hell? Elrond! As her vision cleared, Elsie focused her attention solely on the person above her. A beautiful face swam before her eyes, and she gasped when everything suddenly came into focus. Indeed, she was lying in a large bed, soft sating sheets beneath her hands. The room was open and light, the moon shining brightly into the large balcony windows to her right. This place was like something out of her wildest fantasies!

Her attention was again caught by the striking woman before her. Her hair was a light shade of brown, falling in waves to frame a perfectly shaped face with soft looking skin. But there was something else that caught her interest. The woman's ears. They were perfectly pointed!

Elsie's stunned gaze met the amused one's above her. Her shock and confusion shone clearly in her eyes. "You're an elf!"

Airioswen's clear laughter could be heard as it rang through the hall.

"Gandalf!"

Laughing loudly at the relieved and amused expressions that greeted him, Gandalf made his way to the table where all had risen to greet him. Frodo met him half way, hugging the wizard joyfully. "Hello, Frodo my boy. How have you been?"

"I've been well, Gandalf."

"We've missed you, Mister Gandalf!"

"Aye, we have. Where have you been all this time?"

"That is neither here nor there, young Peregrin Took. I have come when I have deemed it necessary to come. And now, we have much to discuss. But I would not be opposed to some sort of repast before we begin was is certainly to be a long and tiring conversation?"

He gazed at Elrond as he said the last, earning an amused and welcoming look from the Eldar. "Certainly, old friend." Gandalf harrumphed at the added emphasis on 'old', but did not make mention of it, choosing instead to seat himself by the new Queen of Gondor, taking her hand in his and greeting her.

"My Lady. It is truly an honor and a pleasure to see you once more."

"The honor is mine, dear friend. We are all grateful for your presence, as I am certain you can imagine."

Gandalf sighed, a frown furrowing his brow. "Aye, I can. We do indeed have a great deal to speak of. But for now, I would regain my strength. Shadowfax and I have run hard this day to reach you and the journey has tired me."

"Indeed, Mithrandir. Regain your strength. We have waited this long, we can wait awhile longer yet." Gandalf smiled at Elrohir's words, thanking him silently for his understanding.

Food was brought and all made quick work of the succulent meats and vegetables placed before them. Their spirited banter and conversation and the reasons behind it was not lost on those who sat at the table. All tried, for a time, to forget the trouble that was threatening them with its growing presence. And for now, the light of their friendship drown out the dark, sending the shadows fleeing.

It was the noise of running feet and shallow breathing that brought all conversation to a halt and everyone to their feet. A she-elf burst through the doors, running up to Lord Elrond and bowing hastily to the company.

"Tiernan, what is wrong? Is everything well?"

"My Lord." she panted, trying desperately to catch her breath from her sprinted run through the halls. Elladan offered her his chair and pressed a cup of water into her trembling hands. She took a moment, calming her breathing.

"My Lord," she began again, "the woman.Airioswen sent me to tell you that she has awakened."

Elrond jolted in surprise. He had thought, with as grievous as her injuries had been, that she would sleep for longer than just these short hours. He expressed his concerns to the elf before him. "She has awakened? Already? Her wounds were great and."

But the elf interrupted him, shaking her head and apologizing. "I am sorry, my Lord. I did not mean to lead you astray. It is her companion. The one with the arrow wound in her shoulder, that has woken."

Elrond nodded, meeting Gandalf's gaze and motioning for his friend to follow. "Mithrandir, would you be so kind as to join me. I would speak with this woman ere she finds the land of dreams once more. Elladan, see to it that our guests are not left wanting and make them as comfortable as possible. Mithrandir and I will return as soon as we are able to recount what we will learn. Our talk can wait until then. We will meet you back here."

The elder son nodded, watching with concerned eyes as the two elders made their way out of the hall. "Come," he said, turning and retaking his seat after the healer and his father had left with the Maia, "let us finish our meal and enjoy our rest. The danger will come soon enough."

His words were not lost on the hobbits as they eagerly took up their forks once more and began again to enjoy the fine elvish food. Outside, the wind picked up speed, the howling against the windows sending shivers of warning down Legolas' spine. A strange sense of foreboding breached his inner peace and he prayed that Gandalf would be able to shed some light on their precarious situation. He did not like the feeling of helplessness, of not knowing what danger they were truly facing.

His frustration must have shown on his normally expressionless face, for he felt a hand grasp his shoulder. He looked up into the calm and smiling face of Elrohir and some of his tension eased. He nodded his consent to the twin's silent question, agreeing to let his fears ebb away for now. Mithrandir and Elrond were right. There would be time enough, soon enough, to worry. For now, he would enjoy the meal and the company, basking in the friendship around him.