Chapter Nine: Galadriel Makes the Plot Get Serious
DISCLAIMER: You know, I should probably be serious in my author notes/random quote/disclaimer for this chapter, given that it's the climax and lots of important stuff happens. Eeeh, probably was the key word there ^.^
Brief Recap: Adonnenniel and Estela had an argument, Legolas has been giving off some majorly eerie vibes, and the last time we saw Estela she was walking towards Galadriel's Mirror.
Random Quote: "Don't forget to keep breathing!" ~Wii fit trainer. Thank you for your profoundness. It is much appreciated. The next time I forget to breathe, I will remember your excellent advice.
"You have come." Galadriel's voice was gentle yet somehow foreboding and fear inducing.
"Yes," Estela said levelly, trying to control her emotions and focus on Galadriel. Her frustration at watching the Fellowship grieve while she knew Gandalf was not actually dead and her persistent anger at Adonnenniel for blaming her for his 'death' were dully present in her thoughts.
"Yet you have not brought your sister as I requested."
"We had an argument," Estela said truthfully. "I doubt she will listen to anything I say right now. She is blaming me for Gandalf's death, since I knew about it in advance. She will not speak to me."
Galadriel sighed. "Perhaps it is best she is not present here. Your sister seemed fragile and innocent." Galadriel paused. "It is interesting," she said suddenly. "You speak as one of us."
"What do you mean?" Estela asked, confused. "I've stopped using contractions as frequently?" Galadriel watched in stillness and did not reply, then turned towards her Mirror. So I guess Legolas isn't the only one with an unpredictable and just plain bizarre train of thought, Estela thought. Maybe it's an Elf thing.
"So," said Galadriel, "You know of what is to come in the quest to destroy the Ring. Aragorn spoke with me regarding yourself and your sister after our initial meeting."
"Yes, I know of what is to pass. And I know everything that is occurring in the present, and mostly everything that has already happened. But I don't want to look in the Mirror. I think that not knowing one's fate is better than having warning." Estela realized this only as she spoke. She truly did not wish to glimpse her own future or see what it held.
"You are wise, child, yet you have much to learn. I shall not have you look in the Mirror if you do not wish, but there is something I must tell you. It regards a certain Prophecy, one I made myself one hundred years ago."
Estela was shaking her head. "If it has anything to do with myself or Adonnenniel, I really just don't want to know."
"You must." Galadriel's was firm. "I must know if it is you to whom the Prophecy is referring. Listen." And then Estela heard Galadriel's voice in her head for the second time that day.
On the night of the silver moon shall the veil be lifted
And the existence of two from the Unseen Realm
shall cross into Middle Earth by means of
A lost twin heirloom to the Queen of Lothlorien
The one bound by the crown will remain
In the starless domain of Middle Earth
And be joined in hand with the race
Her anatomy shall embrace with fervor
The one bound to the Unseen shall
Fade, unable to sustain a life here
She shall abandon hope, and pass away
On the second day of the silver moon
A long, pregnant silence ensued.
"Umm…I'm going to be honest with you and say that I have no idea what you just said and am thoroughly confused," Estela admitted.
"As am I, child. These words can be interpreted in a multitude of ways and none of them are concrete. I shall explain it to you the best I can, however." Galadriel stared at her piercingly. "It is said in ancient Elvish folklore that there are other worlds coexisting with our own. Legend holds that when the moons of our world and the others align in their cycles, the line between our worlds is blurred. These other worlds are referred to as the 'Unseen Realms'."
"What about the lost heirloom part? What did that mean?" Estela asked.
"Eight thousand years ago, our most talented craftsmen fashioned two identical tiaras to crown the new Queen and King of Lothlorien, or rather, myself and Lord Celeborn. It is said that they created them during a night in which the lines between the worlds were blurred, and by using the light of the moon, they infused the tiaras with the ability to transcend worlds. The one referenced in the Prophecy is 'lost' because it has not been seen since the day it was fashioned. Its disappearance remains shrouded in mystery. And I am surprised you have not noticed yet, child, but I am wearing one of these as we speak."
Estela gasped. How had she not noticed it before? Sitting atop Galadriel's head was a tiara identical to the one they had found on the farm.
"Oh my God," Estela whispered. "It's me and Adonnenniel the Prophecy is referring to, isn't it?"
"I could not certainly conclude so until I saw your reaction to this information, but now I am certain. It is yourself and your sister being referenced."
"And the tiara we found in the farm back home…It's the one the Prophecy's talking about. The one that disappeared." Estela felt strange, as if somehow detached from herself. Out of all the things they had gone through so far in Middle Earth, this was by far the strangest and most unnerving.
"That much is surmise-able," said Galadriel. "The rest we can only hope to guess at."
"What does the rest of it mean?" Estela asked suddenly, harshness creeping into her voice. She was suddenly frightened.
"I do not know. I can only speculate as to its meaning. I have spoken at length with the wisest of my kind of this matter, and we can only suppose," Galadriel admitted.
"Yes, well, what do you think it means?" Estela nearly snapped. Fear was dawning on her, cold and penetrating. If her rudeness was affecting Galadriel, it did not show on her timeless and impassive features.
"I think we can safely assume that the next two parts of the Prophecy are referring to yourself and your sister. One of you, I do not know which, is 'bound by the crown', and the other is 'bound to the Unseen', meaning your world. I do not know how this is possible and I know not whether it speaks literally or figuratively. As for the one bound by the crown, speculation has simply led to more questions. I do not know what it means, nor can I guess. Oftentimes Prophecies are only made clear after they have been fulfilled."
Then what's the use of it? Estela thought angrily. Galadriel reached into a pocket of her pure white dress, and extracted a sheet of paper with small, spidery script on it. She handed it to Estela, who saw that it was a copy of the Prophecy.
"As for the one bound to the Unseen," said Galadriel, an unreadable look dawning on her face, "I can discern with certainty the meaning of one line. Brace yourself." Estela thought back to what Legolas had said earlier today. Is it possible he somehow knew about this beforehand? she wondered.
Then Galadriel spoke in her mind once more.
'The one bound to the Unseen shall fade, unable to sustain a life.' She said, quoting the Prophecy. Can you not guess the meaning of this, Estela? Before this quest has come to an end, either you or your sister shall no longer be living.
"NO! You're wrong!" Estela screamed, recoiling.
"Look in the Mirror, child," Galadriel said. "See the possible paths that have yet to come in your life. But do not despair, for the Mirror has also been known to show the deepest desires and fears of our hearts. Not all you see shall come to pass." Her voice faded into the mists that seemed to cloud Estela's mind.
What could I possibly see that's worse than what she's already told me? Trembling uncontrollably, Estela approached the Mirror. Upon a low stone pedestal, carved like a tree branching out, was the shallow silver basin she knew was the Mirror.
And then before she could change her mind, Estela leaned over its smooth surface, and looked. The experience was strange. Everything she saw seemed blurred by wisps of blue and purple smoke, distorting the images as if through a foggy haze.
Her and the Fellowship crossing a long, flowing river on small boats...A battle with Orcs in a forest she had never seen before…Standing helpless, watching as her sister is carried away by the monsters along with Merry and Pippin…
A woman with flame red hair who resembles Estela's mother…She is extraordinarily beautiful, and has Elvish features…She stands in an empty room with the door and windows locked…She walks over to a chest in the middle of the room and extracts a tiara from its depths…She places it on her head and vanishes from the room…
Adonnenniel lying dead on the ground with red flowers strewn over her body…Her small, lifeless form being placed in a stone tomb…It is winter, and the trees are barren…She is beautiful even in death, and Estela watches her sister helplessly…
Fleeting images of Legolas …Him speaking with Haldir in Lothlorien: "They will fulfill Galadriel's Prophecy"…Estela and Legolas locked in a passionate embrace… Legolas closing a small box with a ring enclosed inside …"The fates have willed it," he murmured…And then just his face…Withdrawn and beautiful and immortally sad…
Estela yanked herself free from the visions. She fell backwards onto the ground, gasping and clutching her sides.
"What is it you saw?" Galadriel asked, making no move help her up.
"I…I saw my sister…dead. I saw her funeral…I saw someone who looked like my mother, except she was an Elf, and she had a tiara…I saw…" Estela's voice trailed off into nothing.
"Tell me more about your mother. What kind of a woman was she?"
Estela shook her head. "I don't really know, actually. She left us when I was five, and my family never saw her again."
"And what else did you see in the Mirror, child?"
"No…Nothing…" Estela stammered.
"Will you divulge no more to me? Perhaps I can help discern the meaning behind these things. As for your mother, I have suspected this since I first saw you. You are not fully human, Estela. Neither is your sister. As your time in Middle Earth lengthens, your features will become more Elf-like by the day. Now it is confirmed." Galadriel sounded tired.
"And if your mother had the lost tiara, then she could have had the ability to travel from our world into your own at will. Or she may have chanced upon the tiara by pure accident, unbeknownst of its powers. Unless you return to your world, I do not think we shall ever know that particular part of the story. All we know for certain is that your mother had the tiara, and she was Elf-kind, as are you and your sister. You are Pereðil, neither fully human nor fully Elf."
"Does…does that mean I'm immortal?" Estela gasped.
"Whether or not to embrace immortality is a choice you must make yourself further down the road," Galadriel told her.
"So…so you…you think my father was human then? And my mother an Elf?" Estela's thoughts were a thick and disoriented haze.
"Again, child. "I do not know, nor do I think we will ever know that side of this story." Galadriel said, shaking her head. She seemed to have retreated into her own thoughts, and her gaze was withdrawn. She seemed to speak more to herself than to Estela. "Regardless, I can see that this knowledge has upset you. It would be best for now if you were to retire and rest. I have much to think about tonight. Come morning, many things will have changed."
With that, Galadriel walked away, leaving Estela dumfounded on the forest floor. She didn't know how long she just sat there, numb and in shock. But eventually, she got herself up and ran blindly back to her room. As Estela ran, her surroundings were a blur. She cried freely, all the pent up emotions and stress pouring out of her wildly.
Everything negative she had been feeling in the past few months converged all at once and ruthlessly tore through her, unrelenting and powerful…Her anger and confusion at Adonnenniel's outburst now mingling with guilt…The simmering jealousy she felt for her sister's beauty…Her worries about what was going on back at home, and even worse, her fear that she might not be able to stay in Middle Earth forever…Her anger at Legolas for not telling her about the Prophecy beforehand…And now, her fear of the future and her destiny. Either her or her sister was going to die. Uncertainty and fear whirled inside her like a storm. It was too much.
She dashed up the winding staircase, not looking where she was going. As she rounded the last corner leading to her chamber, she collided with someone. Before they could be sent tumbling to the ground, the person agilely caught and steadied her. She didn't know who it was and she didn't care.
"Lady Estela? What's wrong?" A voice tight with concern and worry asked.
"Nothing…" she sputtered, trying to hastily wipe the tears from her cheeks. She looked up and saw it was Aragorn.
"Come," he said gently. "Go to your chamber and sleep. Perhaps whatever it is will pass and seem better by morning." He led her down the hallway, past his own room, and then Gimli's and Legolas'. Estela saw Legolas standing in his doorway, watching her with sadness etched on his face. A sudden wave of anger overcame her.
"You!" she screeched, wrenching herself free from Aragorn's grasp. "You knew all along, and you didn't tell me!" She rushed toward him, not quite sure what she was doing. She stopped a foot away from him, assuming a slightly calmer demeanor.
"Did you know?" she whispered.
Legolas met her gaze, but his face had gone still and stone-like. "Yes. Many of Galadriel's Prophecies are common knowledge amongst our people. I have never read it before, but I knew the meaning of it. That two from another world would come into our own."
"Did you know one of us is going to die?" she asked. Her voice was deadly calm and icy. As she spoke, she walked into his room, dimly noticing how its layout was the same as hers and Adonnenniel's room. He turned around and watched her warily.
"Yes, I knew. And that, My Lady, is all I knew. I swear."
Estela wasn't sure what made her do it. All she could think was about those endless, wonderful hours in which they had spoken at length about all sorts of things. She had opened herself up to him, and he had kept this to himself. And he had just called her My Lady again.
Moving fast, she seized an empty flower vase off the table and flung it at him. Shock flickered across his face, but he managed to dodge it, and the vase shattered on the wall in a starburst of broken glass. Estela snatched a plate off the table, but suddenly it didn't seem like enough. She threw plate down on the floor and launched herself at him, knowing it would be the last thing he'd expect her to do.
Her sudden attack caught him unprepared. When she slammed into him, he staggered backwards and his back pressed heavily against the wall. She fell hard against him and drew back her arm blindly, not quite sure what she intended to do—
She had forgotten how fast he could be. Her fist slammed not into his face, but into his hand. He wrapped his fingers gently but firmly around her fist, forcing her to retreat. They stood like this for a moment, her breathing heavily and him staring at her cautiously, as if she were a fragile piece of glass he might break if he did something wrong.
Estela was suddenly aware of how close they were standing. She was leaning against him, pressing him back against the wall with the slight weight of her body. Something in his expression was unnerving her. He looked not angry, but simply sad and somehow broken. It's the same expression I saw on him in the Mirror, she realized. And then a different emotion swept over her, electrified by her anger. She was abruptly aware of how close their faces were, and of the up and down movement of his chest beneath her as he breathed.
"Estela?" he said softly. "If I let go of your hand, will you promise not to strike at me again?" She nodded. But instead of letting go of her, he simply loosened his grip and entwined his fingers with hers. They stood like this for a long moment, and for a second Estela could have sworn he moved closer, as if to kiss her. But then he released her hand and the moment was gone. She backed away from him, embarrassment flooding her cheeks.
"I'm…I'm sorry," she sputtered. "I…I don't know what came over me. "I…I was just hurt that you hadn't confided in me."
"Estela," he said sharply. He moved closer still towards her, and held her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him directly. "In the same way you could not tell the Fellowship of their destiny, I could no sooner tell you of yours." His gaze was imploring and gentle, and Estela felt herself soften.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I understand, it's just…What are we, Legolas? I mean, I know we're friends, but…"
"We are friends," he said firmly, releasing her face. "Close friends. Not in all my life have I talked to anyone as much as I did with you during our travels. I trust you, and I wish you would trust me." He paused, as if wanting to say more but unsure of himself. "And I admire you. You are inspiring and intelligent, more so than any of your kind."
Estela was shaking her head. "That's because I'm not fully human," she said. "Galadriel told me. I'm half, if not fully, Elf." If Legolas was surprised, it did not show. "You must have noticed. I look different now than I did when we first arrived in Middle Earth."
"Yes, your appearance has been changed. However, I was referring to your personality. That is not something which changing into an Elf refines."
Just then, Aragorn walked in. Legolas and Estela had forgotten about him, and they realized with a jolt that he had probably been standing there the entire time.
"Lady Estela," he said, "Your sister is asking for you. She heard you yelling and wants to know what's going on. She seemed quite exhausted and I think she fell back asleep after I left, so there is no rush. But you should see her soon regardless." Thank God, thought Estela, if he was talking with Adonnenniel that means he wasn't standing in the doorway the whole time.
"I should go," she said to Legolas. She turned around to walk away, but he caught her hand and pulled her back.
"Would you like to meet me here tomorrow? We can go to the armory and obtain a set of bow and arrows for you. Lothlorien has an archery range on the other side of the forest."
For a moment, Estela was slightly startled and didn't know what to say. "Yes, I would like that," she said slowly, smiling tentatively at him. He returned her smile, and she followed Aragorn out the door.
When she left Legolas' room, her previously raging emotions faded into a dull throb that coursed through her as she walked. She began thinking of the Prophecy, and fear coursed through her, sharp and poignant.
Coming Up Next!
-Something from Legolas' point of view!
-A bunch of things I really shouldn't hint at!
-Something from Adonnenniel's POV!
YAY! I HAZ 100+ REVIEWS! You guys have no idea how happy this makes me ^.^ Thank you so much to all who have reviewed thus far! Have some brownies with hot fudge sauce and vanilla ice cream :)