Oh...wow. I'm sure that Breggo13's pretty pissed at me for only posting this now. :( I've had a lot going on...real life really sucks sometimes. Of course there's school, but hey, that's normal, and then I've also got hockey, martial arts, and archery to attend every night. It's a miracle that I still have a 3.5 GPA. It may help that I'm no longer taking a foreign language (yay me) and English and History are too easy.
Um...so, I wrote about the first 1,500 words of this chapter, and Breggo13 wrote the rest. I think she's determined to beat me at everything I do. But whatever. Here is the eighth chapter of "I Have Kept No Hope for Myself."
-LORD OF THE RINGS-
Previously in U-Chebin Estel Anim…
"I…I…wished to ask a question, Father," he said quietly, with maturity beyond his years. Faramir smiled and nodded. "Can people communicate…through the means of another?" Aragorn frowned and looked at the Steward, who shrugged his shoulders. The King looked at the boy with his intense blue-grey eyes.
"Not directly, Elboron," he said, bending in front of the boy as well. "But many of us wish to think that it were true."
"My Lord…if it were through…a dream…would it be possible?" he asked hesitantly. Aragorn ruffled the boy's hair and smiled.
"If it was intentional, I believe not," he said quietly. "But there are those…whose dreams are as real as anything else. Why do you ask such questions? It is not suited for your age, young one."
"Gilraen had a dream," he blurted out, unable to hold it in. "About Eldarion." Aragorn swallowed, not trusting himself to hope. Yes, he had had dreams about his son as well…but he knew that his daughter, as wise as she was fair…could tell the difference between dreams…and reality. And if Gilraen thought something was important…it was. He took Elboron's hand.
"Come," Aragorn said. "We will talk with her." Faramir slowly followed his son and his King deeper into the caves, where he knew many questions had the potential to be answered.
"You seem troubled," Eldarion said softly, as Daina walked beside him, each of them keeping a firm hold on the horses' reins. She said nothing, but merely glanced at the Prince. "I'm sorry about Runshaw."
"The fault was not yours," she said quietly. "You have nothing to apologize for."
"Not even the kiss?" he asked, his voice not more than a whisper. Daina's mouth opened wide. "I should not have said anything. I'm sorry." She shakily extended her hand towards his, all the while keeping hold on the reins.
"You have done nothing wrong, Eldarion," she said as he tentatively reached out with his own pale hand. "You have been honest. I have not been."
"I should never have been your burden to bear, Daina," he muttered. The young Ranger smiled.
"I bear it gladly."
"You don't mean that," he said. "I'm a weak and foolish child. You said it yourself."
"Eldarion-"
"No," he said quietly. "I'm glad you did. I've looked inside myself…and you were right. I was a selfish, pompous…child."
"Was?" she asked, her voice trembling. He gazed at their clasped hands as they walked through the forest.
"Was." His mouth opened to say something more, but as Eldarion looked up, he found himself staring in wonder at the borders of Rivendell. It had been described to him in great detail when he was young, as both of his parents had lived there for extended periods of time. His grandfather, Lord Elrond, had been the one who ruled the land. Even though he had been expecting it, he stared open-mouthed at the waterfalls, trees, and the design of an old culture…all that was left of a once great civilization in front of which he stood. As he found his voice, he looked over at Daina, who warily crossed the border, leading Eldarion with her. "Rivendell."
"Yes," she said with a slight laugh. He watched her smile, and could not resist showing a smile himself. Her dark hair shone in the light of the Elven haven, her eyes as bright as the Evenstar that the Prince wore around his neck. But as they let the horses loose, Eldarion started to notice that not all was right. There was an air…that something had been tampered with…that something was not as it seemed.
"Daina…something's wrong," he said hesitantly. "I can feel it."
"I know," she muttered, her voice low. "I wish I knew what it was."
A blinding white light shone from behind them, and Eldarion turned around slowly, feeling Daina's tight grip on his arm. But even he wasn't sure what he saw…or what he was supposed to be seeing. A person…at least…as it seemed to be…was standing there. Eldarion's eyes were full of wonder…at a sight that he knew few had seen, and his eyes opened wider when it spoke his name. "Your quest has led you to Rivendell, Eldarion of Gondor," said a voice…a voice that he had heard in what he knew were his dreams…that always seemed to be more than dreams. It was the voice that had always soothed his wary thoughts. "And indeed you will find what you seek…so long as you keep your eyes open."
Many thoughts were running through the Prince's mind, but the only thing he could think to say was, "Show yourself!"
"If you wish it," the voice said, sounding genuinely surprised. The light faded, and an extremely old man with white hair, kind blue eyes, and an extraordinary glow surrounding him smiled down at them. "Are you frightened?"
"No," Eldarion said slowly, taking in the man's dazzling white cloak and pure white staff. "Who are you?"
"Need you ask?" And then he knew, without having to ask again.
"Mithrandir," he said, his voice gaining strength. "The teacher and teller of stories…my father's most trusted mentor…Gandalf the White."
"You have come to Rivendell for reasons unknown to you as of yet," Gandalf said, smiling at the awed Prince. "But I daresay you will learn as you are here." Eldarion nodded absently. Daina looked up at the Wizard, as if scared what she would see.
"Mithrandir," she breathed, and knelt. "We owe you our allegiance." Eldarion backed up and knelt beside her.
"And not to forget about us, I hope?" said a tall, blond-haired Elf with startlingly blue eyes from Gandalf's right, referring to himself and an auburn-haired Dwarf on the Wizard's left. Gandalf smiled.
"Ah," he said. "I think you might be familiar with these two." Eldarion, who had looked up at the sound of another voice, stared at the two new arrivals.
"Legolas?" he asked, his eyes wide. "Gimli?"
"Yes indeed," the Dwarf said.
"But…that's impossible," the Prince said, confused. "You were with my father…were you not?"
"We had been half a day gone here before we heard that your defenses had been broken through," Legolas said, his voice clear. "We offer our service, if you'll have us."
"Yes," Daina said, looking very faint.
"Well then," Gandalf said, his blue eyes twinkling. "If we are to make our final stand worth remembering…you will need some very special training. For the two of you are young…and have not yet seen the true horrors of battle." At those words, Eldarion's blood began to boil, and Daina had to grab hold of his arms.
"I've fought!" he argued. "I saw my mother killed! How dare you say I have not been in battle!"
"Quiet, Eldarion," Daina muttered harshly. "You do not understand."
"The girl is wise," Gandalf said. "You should do well to listen to her." The Ranger released her hold on the young man, but kept a gentle hand on his arm. Eldarion watched as she slowly took firm hold of his tunic, her hand slightly shaking. Was it possible…she was afraid to let go?
I am too.
Eldarion removed his tunic later that night and set it down on the table beside his bed. He winced with shame as he looked at the silver tree that was emblazoned onto it.
I have failed my people. I have failed my house. I have failed everyone.
He ran a hand through his messy brown hair, so much like his father's. Thinking of Aragorn brought a whole new set of thoughts to the Prince's mind. Was he still alive? Was Gilraen, his beloved sister, still keeping her watch over the people? What about the countless others he cared about? What of his old friend Findus, whom he had trusted for ages? His fiancée, Feowyn, and her parents? What about Elboron? Were they all safe? Did they all survive?
"How can I be who they expect me to be?" Eldarion muttered to himself bitterly. "I do not know who I am any longer."
"You know who you are," said a soft voice from behind him. "But you wish not to. You are ashamed of what it holds."
"Yes," he said simply.
"But you cannot be," Daina said fiercely. "You have to be strong…strong for the rest of us."
"I know," Eldarion said quietly. "But I think…that may be what makes it hard."
"Gandalf is right, you know," she said gently. "You may have seen your mother killed…but you have not experienced true war."
"Neither have you," he shot back angrily. "Stop talking to me as if you're more intelligent."
"Not as much is at stake by my death, Eldarion," Daina argued. "If I am killed…there is nothing to be lost. But if something happens to you…there is no victory. Without you…there will be no Gondor to return to." Eldarion silently listened to the wind whistled through the night…harming nobody. He bowed his head and felt the cool breeze travel across his chest.
"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I cannot be the hero you ask me to be." Daina hesitantly took a few steps closer to the Prince. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and looked up into his clouded grey eyes.
"You can…if you only look beyond what you see…what you feel." She bit her lip and ashamedly looked away. "Someone told me that…once. And I have found his words to be truest…in the least likely of places." She walked back to the doorway and Eldarion turned around, his mouth open…as if to say something. Daina tilted her head to the side, her eyes questioning. The Prince gave her a sad smile.
"Sleep well," he said. She acknowledged him with a slight nod and left him.
And in the blackness of the silent night, Eldarion whispered the despairing linnod that his father's mother had said, the night of her death, in this same Elven kingdom…long ago.
"Onen i-Estel adain…"
He finished it silently, feeling hot tears trailing down his pale cheeks.
U-chebin estel anim.
The moon glistening overhead, Eldarion silently walked through the darkened garden. Once beautiful, it was overgrown and untidy. As his eyes became more accustomed to the darkness of night, he noticed a weathered gravestone not but a few feet away from where he stood. He took a few hesitant steps forward.
Will I regret I find?
He cautiously knelt before it and wiped damp leaves off it with his fingers. It was pure white marble, and on top of the headstone was the figure of a beautiful woman. Eldarion reached up to touch the smooth statue, and he noticed something written in Elvish, halfway covered by the plants. He brushed them away to read it. The script carved into the stone was slowly chipping away, to the point where some of the Sindarin runes were untranslatable. But he could read the topmost word, a name, for he would recognize it anywhere. It was translated literally as 'Wandering Star'.
Gilraen.
Eldarion traced the Elvish script, wondering.
"Gilraen," he breathed. Though his first thought was of his sister, he remembered for whom she had been named. His father's mother…Gilraen. This was her grave. Her final resting place. He pressed to fingers to his lips as a sign of respect and bowed his head. This was the grave of his grandmother…who had not lived to see the light that had come out of her son's survival.
But she knew what would happen, he assured himself. Of course she knew. Of course she knew what her son would become.
His face darkened.
And now it's happening all over again. I won't let it finish. I will not let Sauron take control of us. We are a free people. And we always will be.
He lightly touched the gravestone again and stood up, his legs trembling. He walked back the way from which he came, making a silent vow to himself.
We will not surrender…even if it's the last thing I will ever do.
"So it is true?" Aragorn briskly ran the still bandaged hand through his dark hair that was covered in dried sweat and blood, some his own and some being that of his enemies. His tired blue eyes rested uneasily on his young daughter's determined and slightly frightened face. Gilraen held her head high, observing her father with an admiration beyond that which can be described. He believed her, though unwillingly, when she told him of the death of the stallion, the rescue of Eldarion and his unknown friend and their growing relationship. Gilraen was wise not to mention the last part to anyone except Aragon.
"Father, we've been over this before," the young girl pulled at her hair in agitation, though nothing else betrayed her true annoyance about the situation. She straightened her back a little more and gazed even more intensely into her father's eyes. "Yes, Eldarion is well and so is the girl..."
"Daina the Hunter," Aragon automatically corrected the young princess. She rolled her eyes and sighed.
"I beg your pardon, father. Eldarion and Daina are both fine. I believe they just met Gandalf."
"Who?" Aragorn stared with pure amazement at his daughter. "How?"
"Father, I think I know who Gandalf the White is when I see him," Gilraen sighed and rubbed her blue eyes. Since the fall of the White City, the young princess had barely slept since even the weakest vision drained her of her strength. The slim rations and the amount of wounds, burns and cuts didn't help. She grew thinner and thinner with each passing day, as did they all, but in the case of the young princess, she was becoming so thin that even consuming the rations was sometimes hard.
"I know you would remember who he is," Aragon replied thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. "I just wonder why Eldarion went to Rivendell instead of coming back here? We need him here more..."
"Father, no. He's not himself anymore! I saw him turn pure evil a couple of times, trying to rid of either Legolas or Gimli or Gandalf. Only with Daina's help did he come back. If he doesn't learn to control himself, who knows what will happen to us."
"Then what do you suppose we do?" Aragon spit out angrily. He needed his son near, needed him in case he was to lead the men into a final struggle. "We're losing time, and people sitting in these good for nothing caves with nothing to eat and barely enough water for everyone."
"We need to wait," Gilraen pursed her lips and crossed her arms. "We can't risk disturbing Eldarion's healing. If he knows of us, he will never take his true place as a leader of Gondor."
"Why not?" Aragon turned away from his daughter. "He always knew that this was his destiny."
"Because he thinks he failed Gondor, that he failed you," Gilraen replied. "He needs to come to terms on his own if he is ever to take the throne. Alone he will become stronger."
"Are you sure we can wait another month?" Aragon asked, turning back to the young girl. His anger left him immediately as he took in her thin frame and her smudged with dirt face. He couldn't believe that he could be angry at her. "Are you sure you will survive another month?"
"I must or else how will you know when to march?" Gilraen managed a sad smile before she felt the tug of yet another vision and started falling, caught just in time by her dad. She didn't remember being carried to a cot, covered by the warm cloak that now became her own and Aragon gently holding her hand.
"Eldarion! Sit straight in the saddle! Control the horse as if by thought alone!" Gimli yelled as the young prince galloped by on the bay that was given to him by Éomer. The horse was covered in sweat, but somehow managed to still perform the hard manoeuvre that its rider asked for. Puffing, nostrils flaring, eyes rolling, the bay did a sharp one-eighty and reared, pawing at the air. Eldarion was too late leaning forward and tumbled backwards, barely avoiding contact with the charger's hoofs. The bay landed and quietly trotted away, shaking the sweat off like a dog. Eldarion rose and shook the dirt off his tunic.
"Horrible, just horrible!" the dwarf threw his hands up in exasperation. "You can't seem to do that small movement, that little thing that will in a battle save not only you, but your horse as well. Look at Daina do that! She can, for some reason, perform it on your horse!"
"Yeah, well, she's not the one who gets bruised by Legolas every time we do a practice battle," grumbled Eldarion under his nose as he turned to watch Daina lead both horses in circles, murmuring something to them and petting them. "She gets to learn to dance while I need more brutal treatment."
"Yes, but she's a young lady!" Gimli shook his head, then straightened his beard in thought. "After all, she does have a fiancé. He seems like a charming young man, judging from the pictures she drew. She does have some talent."
Ignoring the Prince, flushed with anger and jealousy, Gimli started towards the girl, humming a soft tune that reminded him of his younger days. After all, he never would have thought back then that he would be dealing with so many emotions and such different and yet, in their own way perfect for each other, young people. Eldarion watched him go, clenching and unclenching his fists. He couldn't understand why his teachers took every opportunity to make him flare up into this nearly uncontrollable madness. He was tired of them playing on his emotions, yet he couldn't stop them.
Spinning on his heel, he headed towards the more secluded parts of Rivendell, the small Gazebo with a bridge where he knew his parents used to meet. Even though it was still day, the garden was covered with huge trees, centuries old and giving a sense of protection. Eldarion loved to just wonder in their shade, absorbing the calmness and peace. It was the one way he could calm down without Daina's help. Stepping soundlessly on the path, his eyes closed, Eldarion tried to imagine Feowyn with her long golden curls, her soft hands, her gentle voice when suddenly he realized he couldn't bring up a clear image of her. Every time he tried, it slipped away only to be replaced by Daina.
In agitation, Eldarion slammed his fist into the nearby tree, making some of the birds on the lower branches take flight, singing out warnings. Closing his eyes, Eldarion let angry tears fall down his cheeks, letting the tree pull out his anger leaving him tired and upset. Behind him he heard light steps, a calming sigh and then a light hand reached out to spin him around.
"Why me?" Eldarion asked as he looked down into the grey-blue eyes. They lowered their gaze to the Evenstar that hung around his neck. With gentle fingers Daina traced its shape, making Eldarion's heart flutter with happiness and excitement. He didn't want to admit it was because of this show of affection, of the fact that her fingers were just mere centimeters away from his skin.
"Because you have this," replied Daina, finally looking back at him. "Because you know what you must do deep down and because you are not what you think you are. You aren't a monster, Eldarion…you aren't what the Dark Lord tried to create. You are not a Man either, not just a Man. Nor are you an Elf."
"If I am not…then who am I?" Eldarion asked, looking away from Daina.
"You are who you choose to be," she replied, gently getting him to look back at her. "You are the one to choose your fate. You can be the greatest ruler Middle-Earth has yet seen or you can be the last hope of the people. You can be anyone you wish to be. I just hope you'll choose the right way."
"Does my path lie with you?" asked Eldarion, his grey eyes never leaving the girl's. "Will you follow me if I choose another way than the one you have tried to bestow upon me?"
"I cannot answer that," Diana tried to lower her gaze but realized that she couldn't, for with her words, in Eldarion's eyes there was a battle, between the betrayed red and the understanding grey. Suddenly, without breaking eye contact, Eldarion reached out and grabbed Daina's hand. She let out a sigh but couldn't pull away.
"Listen," Eldarion placed her hand onto his heart. "Listen and tell me if you can still hear it. I don't feel anything anymore." He glared at Daina, making her eyes widen in fear.
"Eldarion, please, don't," the words, meant to be strong and loud, came out in a soft whisper.
"Can you hear it beating? It's beating while you are near. As soon as you go away, I can't feel it." Eldarion shook his head, eyes slightly red. "It won't beat again if you were to leave me."
"Eldarion, you don't mean this," Daina finally looked away. "You know that we both have lives where we come from. We both are to be wed."
"Both?" Eldarion laughed a hard laugh. "I don't know if anyone besides me survived. And you dare to tell me that I have a fiancée?"
"Fine," Daina managed to pull her hand out of his grasp. "You might not, but I do and I will remain loyal to him. You are my friend, Eldarion, but you need to learn to control your emotions." With that, Daina turned on her heel and left the way she came.
What have I done? Eldarion thought wearily, sliding down the trunk of the tree and closing his eyes. What have I done?
Eldarion was running through the woods. No, sprinting through the woods. He needed to get away, needed to run. And that Horse from Hell. It was chasing him. Again. It was making him run farther than ever, pushing himself. And the laugh. Daina's laugh as she watched from above as if amused. He hated it. He made a turn to avoid a tree, stumbled but caught himself and continued on.
He had to keep going. He needed to survive to show Daina how much he loved her. Or maybe he should die? Yes, maybe he should. Imagine her face if he died, how she would weep over his still body. Smiling at his thoughts, Eldarion made another turn and caught his foot on a root. He wasn't as lucky as the last time and therefore tumbled onto his chest. Something dropped down beside him and he reached out but before he caught it, a smooth hand picked up the Evenstar. Looking up, Eldarion could barely see the young lady in the white dress.
"Eldarion, you need to remember who you are," she said softly. Eldarion gasped as the light cleared to reveal Gilraen. "You need to trust in this gift. It will show you the light, you just need to find the darkness."
"Why? Why should I go towards the dark?" Eldarion cried out. Gilraen smiled and twirled Arwen's last gift in her hands.
"Peculiar you should ask, but I will answer all the same. Because by battling your worst fears will you find the hope and love that you seek. But also by being patient and strong, calm and gentle. And by believing."
"What is there left to believe in?" Tears of anger and helplessness gathered at Eldarion's eyes. "What is there left to believe in?"
"There's you," Gilraen looked down at Eldarion who was still lying on the floor. "Everyone believes in you. Can't you believe that they are all doing the right thing? Can't you believe in their choice?"
"They are all wrong!"
"Wrong...hum, what a funny thing. No, I don't think they are wrong in believing in you. Except perhaps for Daina..."
"Don't say that!" Eldarion tried to leap up but some invisible force brought him back down.
"She believes in you, and yet she doesn't. She knows you and yet she does not. No, right now you are only bringing her death closer by not believing in yourself." Gilraen sighed sadly and two clear tears ran down her cheeks.
"No! You're lying! She won't be hurt again! Not as long as I'm alive."
"Then come to terms with yourself, Eldarion!" Gilraen lowered so that she was very close to Eldarion. "Come to understand that the person who will save us is who you really are." Slowly she placed the Evenstar back across his neck, leaned down to kiss him, and disappeared in a flash of light. A few seconds later the black stallion ripped into the small clearing and reared right above Eldarion. In exasperation, the prince raised his hands...
And woke up in cold sweat in the room that used to belong to his father, breathing hard. Through the open windows, a breeze came in, making him shiver. Trying to calm himself down, Eldarion took a few deep breaths, flung back the blankets, pulled on his boots and stood up. He needed to take a walk somewhere, anywhere. Grabbing his sword, he left the room, thinking about the dream. He couldn't remember anything, except the horse and the clearing and a voice...something about Daina.
In his state, he didn't right away realize that he ended up right by the stable. He was about to walk away when he noticed someone turn on the light and two voices whispering to each other. Unable to stop his curiosity, he leaned to the door to listen, smiling grimly at the memory when he first heard of the invasion.
"Daina," surprise was clear in the sweet voice that could only have belonged to one person. "Why did you come here at this late hour?"
"I couldn't sleep," the girl voice was a contrast to the more male one, but matched it in beauty. "I keep on having nightmares of...of Runshaw and Eldarion and..." She started weeping.
"What kind of nightmares?" Legolas asked, as there was some shuffling inside and Daina's sobs became slightly less.
"They're horrible! I see Runshaw, how he died, and how the Orcs all destroyed him. And then I see a battle. A great field full of fighting. There are bodies everywhere. It must have been going on for some time. I was fighting side by side with Eldarion, but we were split apart. As I finish the last Orc, I turn to him to see him smiling. He starts heading my way but then, out of the corner of my eye…I see a foul archer aiming his last shot. I want to scream to Eldarion, but I can't. I can't run. I can just stand and watch as an arrow pierces him through the heart. And then I see Runshaw again, killed the same way. And it starts all over."
Eldarion's heart was beating fast as he listened to Daina's story. She started crying again, as Legolas stood up and started pacing.
"Hopefully it's just a dream," he replied after a few moments. "Maybe it's just your nerves…maybe you are just too tired."
"I hope so," Daina stopped crying and was just sniffing now. "I just don't want him to know. I don't want to give him false hope."
"So when this is all over you will just return home to your fiancé?" Legolas asked harshly. "Not even if Eldarion asks you to stay?"
"He already did," Daina's voice regained some strength. "He did and I denied. I need to go to where I belong and I won't be the best to rule. I can't."
"Even though you love him?" Legolas asked quietly.
"Even if I loved him," Daina corrected.
"You're making a mistake," Legolas walked towards the exit but then stopped as if remembering something. "But you still have time." With that he walked out, not seeing Eldarion hiding just around the corner. The prince was still trying to make sense of it all but then, against his better judgment walked into the building, immediately smelling the sweet hay and the horses. He stopped beside the box of a beautiful black stallion and petted his nose. The animal responded by nudging his hand. This has been the present of King Éomer when he learned that the Prince was having trouble to fully connect with the bay.
"What are you doing here?" Daina asked as she stepped out of the silver's stall. She had grown attached to it, naming her, for it was a mare, Skylark. Eldarion turned slightly to her, looking from over the black's velvet nose.
"Couldn't sleep," he replied as Daina came closer. "What about you?"
"I had a bad dream," Daina replied, averting her gaze to the horse in front of the prince.
"You were crying," Eldarion observed quietly. "Why?"
"I...I..." Daina couldn't think of anything to say. And if she could what would she say? Struggling with herself and her loyalties? Misunderstanding her affections? Scared of her dreams and fears? What could she tell him?
"Don't say anything," Eldarion smiled slightly as he looked at Daina. She turned her head to avoid his gaze. He reached out and forced her to look into his eyes. "Don't say anything at all...because between me and you, there is nothing for us to say..."
"That's...not true..." Daina tried to protest slightly as Eldarion leaned closer to her. But at that moment she wanted him to love her, to believe in himself. She found herself leaning in too.
"It's true...that I might...love you..." Eldarion whispered the last words, but then just closed the distance between them, kissing Daina lightly. Then, breaking the contact, he turned and walked out of the stables, leaving the young Ranger alone with all her fears and dreams finally realized.
So, was it worth the wait? I hope it was. :)
Remember to leave a review, tell us what you liked or disliked, so we can be sure to improve.
-The Drover (Jason) and Breggo13