N/A: Hi everyone! Sorry for the wait, life has been busy as always, but hey! I was accepted in college so hoepfully more time to write! Hope you like this chapter, it's been the most fun to write it.
Again, sorry for any mistake.
Disclaimer: I do not own lotr or the hobbit. They all belong to Tolkien. All hail Tolkien.
Enjoy
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"She smiled.
Smiled because smiling was easy. Smiled because the sun was shining outside. Smiled because the little lily just outside her second window from left to right had blossomed that very morning. Smiled because everything was right in the world.
Except what was not.
Except that she wasn't smiling at all.
Except that the little lily outside her second window from left to right didn't matter at all.
Except that her whole family, no, her whole kingdom had been turned to ashes.
( ashes and ashes and ashes like a candle burning all night, oh-ever-so bright, burning and burning and burning until there was only ashes and ashes and ashes )
And why was she alive when all else perished? What was a princess to do with no kingdom to rule? What was the use of a burned crown? ( a burned crown for a burned princess in a burned kingdom )
("Brush your hair!"
"Smooth your gown!"
"Oh, here comes your suitor! Behave like a princess"
"Oh, my lady, how pretty you are!"
"Be a good girl. You will be queen one day, sweetie."
"Don't wander alone in the woods, you must stay within our borders!"
"Be good. Make us proud, sweetie." )
Dead dead dead dead dead.
All dead. Every one of them.
They were all dead and she wasn't being good and she didn't make them proud.
And now they were all dead and there would be no second chances.
She let them down and now they're dead.
All dead.
If they were all dead, was she dead too?
No, but she wasn't alive either. Was she?
No. Her alive-self had been very different. When she was alive she had known how to smile.
Now she knew how to grimace and how to scowl. It is very different from smiling, she found.
"How are you today?"
He was asking again. Silly, silly sinda.
It was a game, you see. He would ask, she would lie.
"I'm fine, my prince."
When she was alive she had been an awful liar.
Now she liked to think she mastered it.
But if she was the opposite of what she was when alive, and the opposite of alive was dead, then she was dead.
Wasn't she?
But he said she was alive.
But she didn't feel alive.
If she wasn't dead but wasn't alive either, what was she?
(It is a dream, wake up)
What if she had been dead all this time?
What if she died at the (wake up wake up wake up wake up ) fire? What if these past few days had been all but a hallucination? Some sort of dream-like conciousness?
(Wake up wake up wake up wake up )
She was crying, she knew that. Well, dead people don't cry, do they?
( wake up wake up wake UP WAKE UP)
But what if...
(WAKEUPWAKEUPWAKEUPWAK...
.
.
.
Raunin gasped and choked, desperate for air, nails digging deep the palm of her hands, desperate to feel anything.
The tears flowed freely down her cheeks, because she was past this, she got over it for Eru's sake!
The young elf curled in a tight ball and rocked back and forth in her bed, eyes squeezed shut, trying to swallow down the bitter taste in her mouth.
She was alive.
.
.
.
Elrohir was pretty sure he had been there before. It was a small clearer deep in the forest where he had used to play ( and hide ) as a kid. The trees were still the same, the grass were still the same.
But he definetly didn't remember the place to be as dark as it was now.
(Not dark as in no-light kind of dark, it was dark.)
He also couldn't remember it to be so silent. Not a bird was singing, not a leaf was moving, not a sound was being made. It was way beyond unnerving.
Blame it in his bad mood, but all Elrohir saw was a dead place full of shadows so gloom that could be mistaken as a graveyard.
(Somehow the fact that there was no graves was even more terrifing, because what's scarier than what's left for the future?)
The elf had been staring at his surroundings when he felt it. A sudden sense of dread and sorrow that filled his chest, and made the hair on the back of his neck stand and chilled him to the bones.
A feeling of helplessness and fear so strong that brought him to his knees with a weak gasp and took the breath out of him. His mind was fogged and confused, random thoughts and memories (gentle smiles and soft, soft words turned into empty eyes and broken tears and farewells at the seaside ) swirling around and adding up to the dizziness.
( Looking in retrospect, Elrohir would say that that was when he crossed the point of no return. After that exact moment there would be no turning back. If only he had chosen that moment to flee, maybe, well, maybe he would have blamed it on his mood and the cloak of the night and forgotten-... no, he would never forget what he felt, but it would have been hidden in the back of his mind to only resurface in his nightmares. Maybe then none of the following events would have taken place.
If only!
But there would be no turning back, not now, not after, not for him.
Not for all of them.)
And just like it came, it was gone.
And when it was gone, it was gone. It was as if a curtain had been lifted to reveal a completely different atmosphere.
The light seemed to be back and the forest to come alive again.
And just like that Elrohir was left on his hands and knees on the ground, panting and coughing and sweating, entirely out of place in the now peaceful glade and the only proof of the darkness that only seconds ago had surrounded him and slithered away.
.
.
.
It was past midnight when he finally made it to the main house and it took him several minutes to calm down enough for the shaking of his hands subside and open the doors.
His first instinct was to seek out his (mother) brother but since it would be impossible for the moment, Elrohir headed for the kitchens instead, where there ought to be some food left.
He was already reaching for the doorknob when his ears picked sounds of movement coming from inside the room, freezing him on the spot.
Panic flared up inside him, could whatever had been in the forest (monster_ ) followed him to the house? He didn't know, anything could be possible.
More sounds from the room snapped him out of his thoughts, he had to do something, he couldn't let some random creature (_monster under_) wandering around the house.
But, a reasonable corner of his mind offered, it could be nothing. What proof did he have that there is, in fact, a creature (the monster_) ? It could have been a fleeting illness that struck him back in the woods, he had only had lunch after all. And now, well, it could be just the usual night sounds, nothing to worry about, just some owls screeching or some pipes shrinking.
Elrohir was almost convincing himself when more sounds drifted from the kitchen, this time the distinctive metal clink of a pan hitting the ground.
Well, that was a hell of a pipe then, he scowled at his own sarcasm, it would do him no good. The eerily (dead) emptiness and the darkness of the hallways didn't help his fears either. The young elf tried to take a deep breath and not hyperventilate. He was going to open that damn door and face whatever nightmare ( the monster under the bed) was inside.
One,
Deep breathes.
Two,
Prepare weapons.
Three.
Elrohir burst the door open, rushing inside the dark kitchen with his knife raised, ready to fight for his life.
Only to be hit by a bowl.
.
.
.
"Goheno nin!" Raunin apologized for the thirty-eighth time. "I am so sorry, Elrohir! I really am!"
" 'Tis okay." Elrohir flinched after touching the left side of his head, where a slight bump was already growing. "I'm fine."
"Well, then your concept of being fine is slightly different than mine. "
"Okay, I'm kind of fine."
"Barely." She snorted as she stood on her toes to check on the injury. "I think there might be a second head growing over there. "
Elrohir stopped his hand middair, feeling incredibly stupid for almost checking her statement.
"Thinking on the bright side, it may be smarter than your original one." Raunín snickered. "You know, you might get brains this time."
"You wound me!" He brought his hand over his heart, mocking a hurt look. "Literally! May I remind you who gave me this?"
"That's not fair!" She cried, "You said you forgave me! You can't take it back and throw it at my face now!"
"I'm sick, I can do anything."
"Stop making up rules!"
"Sorry, that's part of the job."
"You're ridiculous." She said rolling her eyes and propping herself up to sit on the bed next to his.
"When did you become so annoying?" Elrohir aimed a kick at her shin, prompting a kicking war.
"I'm not sure, but I'd say somewhere between lunch and hitting you with that bowl." In all honesty, Raunin didn't know how they could be so at ease either. She had only been trying to be nice after hitting him and things just seemed to snowball from there.
"Yeah, thank you for that." He huffed grumply. "You know, I'm starting to think that it was better, safer, when you still hated my guts."
"I didn't hate your guts," she frowned, "but you weren't any better!"
"You started, though."
"Did not."
"Did too!"
"Di-"
"What are you? five-years-old?" Erestor's quiet voice was laced with annoyance and disbelief, cutting through the air and effectively shutting them up.
The older elf had been standing on the doorway with Curubor, the Chief Healer, trailing behind him, looking very annoyed for being woken up at such a late hour.
"Now, can you please tell me what happpened?" Erestor knew that was the wrong thing to say as soon as the words left his lips and the incoherent babbling and gesturing began.
"I was in the kitchen-"
"I had just arrived and-"
"-and all I wanted-"
"-was hungry-"
"Silence!" Erestor rubbed his temples and tried to take deep breathes, it was going to be a long night. "Speak one at a time."
"She hit me with a bowl." Elrohir blurted and pointed an accusing finger at the elleth.
"I panicked, okay." She looked like a deer caught in the headlights. "I panicked."
Erestor merely sighed before moving on tiredly " Why did you hit him with a bowl?"
"I was in the kitchens and it was pretty late and dark and he just burst in there! He almost scared me to death!" The elf defended herself. "I panicked and just reacted! And I already apologized."
"Right. And why were you in the kitchens?"
"I couldn't sleep so I went for some water."
"Fair enough." Erestor sighed and turned to the other elf. "And you? Why did you burst in the kitchens?"
"I-I... " Elrohir stuttered.
"Oh my, you're actually blushing!" Raunin gaped. "Please, do tell us Elrohir, why did you burst in the kitchens?"
"I heard sounds coming from there!" He snapped. "I though it could be... something."
"Why, are you scared of monsters, my lord?"
"Oh, shut up. I was just too tired to think straight."
"Have you checked your closet? Heard monsters like to hide in there."
" Shut up."
"That's enough," Erestor interrupted them before it could escalate. "If I understand it correctly, this was nothing but a misunderstanding?"
The elves nodded.
Erestor sighed again, this was starting to become an habit.
"It is late, go back to your chambers, both of you, and try to get some sleep." He looked warily at the young elf's injury. "I assume Curubor has already taken care of your head before waking me up?"
"Aye."
"Then goodnight. And Elrohir," the advisor called, stopping him in the doorway, " a raven has arrived this evening. Your father shall be back tomorrow."
"Did he say what he found?"
"Nay. But..."
"You have a bad feeling about it?"
He nodded somberly.
"Bad news are arriving more often than not. Why would this be any different?" Elrohir stated grimly before exiting the room and leaving the healer and the advisor alone.
"Have you seen him, Curubor? So young yet so little hope. He lost so much already at the hands of the enemy."
"Haven't we all, my friend? " The healer shook his head sadly. "Haven't we all?"
"Indeed, but we have been walking this land for far longer than most, old friend." Erestor busied himself with the bandages. "We won a battle and thought the war over. Now we are old and wary of this life, holed up in our lands, refusing to see our mistakes, clinging to nothing but an illusion. But where are the elflings so full of life whose laughter used to fill these hallways? Shall we let this youth pay the price of the mistakes we made out of our young arrogance?"
"What has gotten into you, Erestor?" Curubor frowned, "You seem awfully are right, we have seem many wars in our long time around. That's why we should know better and keep hoping. Despite all the battles, despite all that was lost, the enemy has been defeated time and time again. Do not despair just yet, my friend, it hasn't even begun. They were children born and raised in difficult times, they did not see the light of the Two Trees, they did not know Valinor. I'll tell you this, old friend, before this is over, we shall teach them the most important lesson."
"And what would that be?"
"To hope, old friend." The healer squeezed his shoulder, eyes far away from the room, lost in memories. "To hope."
Erestor nodded and watched his friend leave the healer's wing before blowing off the candles and heading to his own chambers, trying to keep Curubor's words in mind.
But he could not help the shiver that went through his spine as he stared out of the window at the darkness outside and it stared back at him.
.
.
.
"Life slips away and the ghosts come to play. These are hard times for dreamers and love lost believers."
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