So, here we got another one. Perhaps, as thewayfaringstrangers justly remarked, it isn't very Tolkien-ish, but I hope you still like it! This solution has been in my mind since the beginning of the story! :)
BETA: thewayfaringstrangers
Epic Elven Warrior Princess: Please tell me.. are you in some way related to Dobby? ;) Now don't hurt your head, dear, it's alright, here you got some answers, don't hurt yourself ;)
Evenstars: Oh don't faint ;) Here you got - some - answers :P
Jasper6509: Thank you! :P Mmm, let's see what Saruman is up too ;)
Lazy Gaga: Love cliffies, as you see ;) Thanks for the review! :P
ShadowHawq35: Perhaps you should go test your heart, dear :P I do not want you to suffocate ;) Thank you for your review! :P
Squiddy the Beth: Hihi, indeed ;) Next chapter, you'll get your hug :P This isn't a cliffie, is it? :P
TheButterflyCurse996: How do you manage to embellish such grave threats in such a polite way? :P As for your question: NO I DO NOT WANT TO DIE, PLEASE LET ME LIVE, I SWEAR I WILL NOT HURT THEM ANYMORE, WE SWEAR IT... WE SWEAR IT... ON THE PRECIOUSS... YES PRECIOUSS, WE SWEAR IT ON THE PRECIOUSSSS! (Am I now safe? Can I now run? :P)
Ynnealay: Here the points are again ;) Love it! :P So I'm safe now? I can come out? :P And very good, you're the only one who saw it didn't have to be Saruman ! :) You start to know me! :P Thank you for the wonderful review, I'm so glad you like my conversations and interpretations of elves :)
Pain and a Pentagram
The first thing he was aware of was a strange, moaning noise. The sound echoed between his ears, and with every echo, the dark walls that enclosed his mind seemed to retreat.
Aragorn didn't know whether he should be glad about that though. Where once darkness had reigned, a thumping pain filled the free space, as if thousands of dwarves were hammering on the remaining walls. And from every blow, bright colors sprang forwards, dancing before his eyes, mingling with each other into one, confusing mass of chaos.
He moaned, and the sound intensified, destroying the cage he was in. All of a sudden, thousands of sensations overwhelmed him. The smell of candles. The cold stone against his back. The deep pain in his head. The sound of footsteps coming to him.
Saruman! Aragorn's eyes jerked open, and instinctively, his hand went for his sword, but grabbed nothing but air. His knife too, had disappeared from his boot.
Not that it would have helped him, since his vision was blurry. Furiously, the man blinked several times. It didn't work. Dark spots obscured his vision and sent waves of dizziness through his body. He could barely make out his opponent, clad in white.
He blinked again. The wizard seemed to be extending his hand. A curse! Aragorn clenched his teeth upon each other, seething with rage and frustration about his inability to defend himself.
"You will not bring me under your spell, Saruman! I will not be defeated by you!" he grunted, trying to block his mind from Saruman's fell magic. To his surprise, the dark servant only chuckled.
"Now, now, Estel. Don't be so aggressive. I don't think Elrond raised you like that." Aragorn seethed at hearing Elrond's name being spoiled by his evil tongue, but a little bell began to ring in his head. Saruman never called him Estel. Or could that be one of his tricks?
"Do not even dare to mention the Lord of Imladris' name once more, Curunir!"
"Easy, Aragorn." The wizard knelt and brushed alongside Aragorn's face. The man tried to recoil, but found his head already on the floor, effectively immobilizing him. He just had to suffer the soft fingers climbing up to his forehead, before stroking his hazy eyes with a gentleness Aragorn had not expected. Beneath his administrations, his vision cleared. The man blinked again, trying to focus on the wizard's face. His eyes dilated and he gasped in shock.
"Gandalf!" The white wizard nodded, and smiled gently.
"I'm glad you remember! I feared you had injured your head too severely." Aragorn scrutinized the face before him, searching for any indication it was the evil wizard in disguise, but he found none. Only the all too familiar, wise eyes and the aged face stared back at him.
"I thought you were Saruman."
"So I noticed." With the pain subduing, the memories flooded back. The air around his body. The pain. He couldn't help it that his voice sounded a little aggrieved.
"How… You knocked me…"
"Against the wall, that's right."
"But why…?"
"You had a very unfortunate timing, young king. I was just trying to break the protective spell around the pentagram, when you two burst in. You broke my concentration, and my powers, no longer contained, smashed you two backwards. You can count yourself lucky I did managed to hold a little control over the magic, otherwise you might have come away with much more than a minor headache!"
"Minor?" Aragorn asked incredulously. His head felt as if Smaug himself had smashed it against the stones. Even thinking about it doubled the pain again - and that was being brushed off as minor! But Gandalf didn't seem to notice.
"Yes, minor. Don't nag, Aragorn. It doesn't suit you." His light tone ensured him it was pointless to argue with the wizard on this point, so Aragorn focused on another question.
"Where's Elentìriel?"
"The elleth is alright, she is resting now. She too, hit the obsidian rather forcefully, but she should awake soon. I laid her in the chamber you were in before. There is a stone couch there, not too comfortable, but with some cloaks, it should make an acceptable resting place for a time." Gandalf's voice trailed off as he turned to the pentagram and examined it closely. His features became grave.
"How many elves have fallen to this curse already?"
"Curse? We thought it was an illness."
"Indeed, an illness born from a curse. How many?"
"Some dozens. The plague had raged worst in Minas Tirith, but there are some cases in Ithilien too, and probably also in Greenwood, though we have no confirmation there. But you knew of this already?"
"I knew Saruman had worked his fell magic again. As soon as I heard of ill elves, I hurried towards this tower and I have been studying the curse ever since. I still don't see how he has activated the curse after his death, but many other things have become clear now." Gandalf tentatively stretched his hand above the pentagram, as if he was expecting any resistance, and sighed, relieved, when this was not the case. "The illness is not natural, as you could assume. Look at the pentagram. What do you see?"
For the first time, Aragorn could take a close look at the strange design. He had off course noticed the black candles at the corners of the white pentagram already, but he hadn't been able to see the other objects before he had been knocked unconscious. Every candle was resting in a low bowl, filled with earth, water, flames and a white, swirling mist. The bowl on the top of the star however, had the strangest of materials in it. It wasn't touchable, but it wasn't smoke either. It looked cold nor warm, wet nor dry. It somehow reminded him of the ethereal elven glow – except that it felt totally wrong, unnatural. Where the elven light symbolized pureness and joy and clarity, this bowl was filled with everything that was tainted and shrouded and tormented.
In disgust, Aragorn turned away from the concoction. "What is that?"
Gandalf's smiled mysteriously. "That, my friend, is the answer to all riddles."
"Care to elaborate?" Aragorn asked sarcastically. The questions and suspense were really weighing on him, and he was tired of not knowing what was going on. Apparently, Gandalf picked up his annoyance.
"What you are seeing here, young king, is a pentagram. The four lowest points symbolize the four elements: water, air, fire and earth. This place however, is the place for the Spirit, the Song if you would like. The Spirit is everything and everything is the Spirit. It's a power of Illuvatar that binds us all, though its influence is the strongest in the elf-kin. At night, you can see the Spirit emanating from them, in the form of their elven glow." Aragorn pointed at the bowl it the top and grimaced in disbelief.
"So that is the pure power of Arda?"
"No – and that is what is causing the plague. The whole pentagram has been reversed. Fire is placed upon the water, earth smothers the wind. The painting is in white upon a black surface, instead of black on a clear soil. And the Spirit, the purest of elements, had been defiled into this… chaos. It's a grave violation of all laws, and I still cannot believe Saruman did this."
"But he did. And now we have to solve this. What do the drawings in the center symbolize?"
"Ah, an excellent question. These designs are vital for the plague, but they will not aid us in unraveling this curse. They are merely spreading the evil impulses of the pentagram."
"But how can this be the cause of the illness?" Gandalf sighed, and put the tips of his fingers against each other. Pensively, he stared at the drawing.
"That is the most difficult part. Saruman has somehow succeeded into transferring the chaos, the artificiality into living beings who approaches the source. And not only that, he has also specified that it will be only elves who will be infected, and that they will spread the curse from themselves! A piece of exceptional control over the magic, Aragorn!"
"Honestly, Gandalf, I do not care how crafty or cunning he is. I want to know how we can stop this."
"I have been spending several days searching for a clue. Most solutions are quite simple, actually. We will need to bring the pentagram in balance again – water for water, earth for earth, fire for fire and air for air. The problem is that the Spirit is invisible and intangible. We cannot contain it in a bowl. Only the wisest and most powerful elves could give off a little of their essence –even though it was a difficult and dangerous process – but they have all sailed now."
"Then what can we do?" a feminine voice asked. It seemed Elentìriel had woken up and had followed their conversation. She was now standing in the doorstep, leaning against the frame, still a little groggy. Gandalf sighed.
"I don't know. I don't know. I just can't think of anything that could capture the Spirit." They were silent for a few minutes, each sunken in their own thoughts. It was Elentìriel who spoke first.
"Mithrandir… Just before the plague hit, I received a blossom of the White Tree. We have figured it was protecting me somehow, for I am the only one who was not fallen ill. Couldn't we use that?" That seemed to pique Gandalf's interest.
"A flower? From Telperionion? Do you have it with you?" Elentìriel nodded and searched in her pocket for the dried, white blossom. Then, she handed it over, but their hope disappeared quickly when Gandalf shook his head.
"How long ago was it given to you?"
"A little more than a week."
"It has become too fragile now. The Spirit can't stay in dead creatures. Are there any other flowers?"
"No. It is too early for the Tree to blossom."
"So I feared." Aragorn thought for a few moments.
"But Mithrandir, when the Spirit is in everything and everything is the Spirit, then it doesn't matter what we choose to complete the pentagram, right?" Gandalf smiled, but it was mirthless.
"Good reasoning again, but you forget that this pentagram is extremely powerful. We need something extremely powerful as well to inverse it." Again, silence reigned, as they stared at the pentagram. This time it was Gandalf who rose, casually wiping out the cray of the pentagram with his foot.
"Well, we can't do anything anymore here. I have dismantled the pentagram so that there will be no harm from here anymore, so we can leave this place. Now, I don't know about you, but I presume I would be able to think better when I am in a warm and comfortable place, somewhere near the ill. Don't you agree, Aragorn?" The man sighed, and nodded slowly.
"Perhaps you are right. Are you certain we can't do anything else here? Search the books, examine the pentagram once more?"
"No, Aragorn. The answers lie outside of this place. Isengard will not aid us in this. Elentìriel, be a good girl and help an old man towards the horses, would you? I'm sure Shadowfax will have discovered them already." Leaning upon the slim elven girl, he exited the Black Heart, leaving Aragorn behind.
The young king felt frustrated. He had hoped to find answers here, and a way to end this nightmare! Well, answers they had found, but in the end, all they gained was another riddle. And meanwhile, Legolas was dying!
"Aragorn, will you come?" Elentìriel had returned, and was now watching him carefully. In contrast to him, her eyes shone with hope now since they had met Gandalf. She seemed certain he would find a remedy in the end. Perhaps it was in her elven nature, or perhaps she saw something he didn't. Perhaps he should trust in her instincts – but he found he couldn't. What if the solution came too late? What if Legolas died?
Aragorn couldn't imagine a life without the elf. He had always been there. His face was one of the first he remembered, and his voice still reminded him sometimes of his long forgotten youth. The prince had guided his first steps and his first arrows. He had faced Elrond's and Thranduil's rage in order to protect the young boy when he had misbehaved again. He had taken many wounds, shielding Aragorn with his life. His laughter had been a constant presence. And now he was fading, leaving the young king behind!
All of a sudden, tears sprang in the man's eyes. His fatigue and worries had finally overtaken him, and he leaned tiredly against the wall, rubbing his temples with his fingers. He was so weary! He longed for a night of rest, undisturbed by worries and false hope! But his wish wasn't granted.
"Estel? Are you alright?" Elentìriel's voice sounded near, and when he looked up, he saw the elf looking at him worriedly. He blinked furiously to wipe away the tears and nodded, waving her away.
"Yes. Thank you. Come now, we should go." To his relief, she didn't comment, but followed him outdoors, where Gandalf was already waiting. Quickly, they mounted and rode away along the same road, each pondering the problem.
The dark tower slowly disappeared in the white morning mist.
I truly hope this solution is agreeable for you! I admit I do have sometimes strange ideas... Please let me know what you think about it!
And any guesses for the fifth element, par chance?
xXx Archiril