A/N: There is no real insanity in this chapter…how sad…just wait 'til the next one!

AMANDA'S POV

Before either Belinda or I knew it, it was the night before we would begin our journey to Mordor. I will admit that I was nervous...alright, I'll be blunt. I was having a panic attack. Belinda, meanwhile, was torn between being annoyed with me and trying to console me.

"Amanda, come on. What is there to be scared of?" I looked at her as if she had grown an extra head.

"What's there to be scared of? Hmm, let's think about that. The fact that we are going to where Sauron lives and there will most likely be Orcs all over the place. Not to mention the Nazgul. You're right, Belinda. There really isn't anything to be scared of," I finished derisively.

"Don't be sarcastic with me, Amanda Nicole," Belinda warned.

"Don't order me around, Belinda Ja..." I started, but was stopped by the look in Belinda's eyes.

"You finish that sentence and you won't live to go on this trip, Mango," she said slowly, purposely using the name that another one of our friends came up for me. (A/N: Entirely true, people. Someone has called me Mango. Why? I still don't know).

I took another look at her and knew that I would rather be killed by Orcs then by Belinda. It was times like these that reminded me how lucky I was to have Belinda as my best friend. If Belinda was your enemy, you'd better start writing out your will, because you won't be living for too long.

"Alright, I'm sorry. It's just I'm scared, ok? I'm not brave or a fighter like you are," I replied mordantly, starting to walk out the door.

"Amanda, come back here. I'm sorry." It was as if I had tuned her out. A deep realization had hit me when I was walking out of the door. The chances of me surviving were at a minimal. Belinda was the fighter, she stood up to people. Me, I was the cautious one, the anxious one. People like me never lived too long in battle.

Before I realized it, I began to run out of the door. I didn't know where I was going, but I found that I didn't care. I had to get away from Belinda for the moment. I could feel something closing in on me, but I didn't know what.

When I finally stopped running, I clutched my sides and was breathing heavily. I looked up at what was around me. It seemed I had found myself in some type of weird room. It wasn't even a room.

I walked closer to a painting that was hanging on the wall. I recognized it immediately. It was the scene from when Isildur cut off Sauron's hand. I reached out and brushed my fingers against it. It felt surprisingly cool against my warm fingers.

I turned around and saw the sword, the broken sword that had been used to cut off Sauron's hand. I went over and looked at the broken pieces. I then wondered why the elves had been given the shreds of the sword and why didn't they return it to its original state?

I reached out and grabbed the hilt of the sword and picked it up. I was surprised by how light it actually was. When I had once tried to pick up Belinda's sword, it felt as if I were carrying tons and tons of bricks.

I was so engrossed in thought that I didn't hear footsteps coming towards me until someone spoke.

"I see you have found the sword that once belonged to my predecessor's father." I spun around and there stood Aragorn, wearing looser clothes than he had before, but still carrying around both a sword and a knife.

I hastily, but gently, put down the sword and rubbed my hands against my pants nervously.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to trespass or anything," I said, nervously. To my relief, Aragorn gave a small chuckle.

"You mean no harm to anyone or anything, miss, I understand that. I'm sure it would be different for your friend." I gave a small smile.

"Probably, because she likes to set things on fire."

Then there was an awkward pause. I'm sure that you have experienced it before. Not quite knowing what to say and wondering what the other person is thinking at the moment.

Finally, I decided to break the silence, which was rare for me.

"How do you feel being Isildur's heir? About following in his footsteps?" For a moment, I thought that I shouldn't have asked that, considering the sudden dark look that had appeared on his face, but it was replaced by another look. Something that I could not distinguish.

"The same weakness flows through my veins, Amanda. It is a terrible thing to be reminded of, day after day."

It would seem appropriate to feel pity for the man, but I felt that I could not. Somehow I knew that he would not like me pitying him. Instead, I tried to comfort him.

"Just because you are his heir, doesn't mean that you are like him. You and him are two different people. Something tells me, that if you were given the choice, you would have destroyed it." There was no need to explain what it was. He knew as well as I did that I was talking about the ring.

"Do you really think that?" Aragorn asked softly. I nodded.

"Yes. Yes, I do." We stood in silence for another few minutes. When I saw that Aragorn was going to speak, he was interrupted by someone crying out my name.

"It's Belinda," I stated. Aragorn nodded.

"Your friend may need you, go on." I didn't want to talk to Belinda, but I knew that I had to. I had to come to terms with what was going to happen. I wouldn't tell Belinda though. I couldn't have her worrying or trying to motivate me. I knew my odds, but I would make the most of them.

"So, I guess I'll see you tomorrow," I said, walking out.

As I ran to try and find Belinda, I thought I heard Aragorn say, "Good night, wise one."

A/N: I would just like to remind everyone that we live for reviews. If we don't get enough, we could die, and I don't think that would be very beneficial to the writing of our stories, now would it?