Fan Fiction ❯ Together We Stand ❯ Prophecies and Adaptations... ( Chapter 6 )

Chapter Seven…

From the darkness they arose,

All strong once again,

Though no blade, nor no bow evil did bear.

Dark master of all wrong,

And the lord of the dark,

Summoned nine from hells fires evil own throngs…

And so with contempt did they follow,

With pride and with flames

A final service mended forth from the morrow…

He had thought it just an old tale, told by his elders to scare one into considering the dark recesses of the mind. So wrong he was now, as he sat here, the strange Prophecy running through his mind, over and over again. Nearly every detail of it was so clear now, he could place his finger on almost every image, every event, right down to the very last.

But there were still too many things missing.

Legolas sighed and leaned forward, trying to take some of the pressure off his throbbing ribs, he had forgotten not long before. Searching for a distraction to ease the pain, he began looking around the magnificent room. Under different circumstances the chamber where he now sat could be considered like those of a palace. For everywhere there lay delicate finery.

Gold and scarlet patterns of woven complexity were embossed upon the rich stone walls, and tables of the richest oak sat regally in the corners of the rooms, accompanied by beautiful golden mirrors, shining as if new. The floor was decorated with wooden tiles, and was polished so well that the elf came to recognise his own reflection.

His eyes finally came to rest on Aragorn, who was the only other in the room besides Merry.

After discovering the properties that were needed for the healing, the heir had moved silently across the room to his travel pack. Vague mutters and curses of many assortments, as well as loud rummaging could be heard from the Rangers direction.

The young prince closed his eyes and lowered his head. Aragorn was obviously not finding what he was searching for.

*****

'…The Athelas of elves upon wound of black night,

Will send back the darkness,

And bring forth the light.

Three companions combined for the peace of the one,

Hand upon hand,

The silence has rung.

Delve in the chaos the mind has forged,

Down falls the evil,

All bad things scorched.

Fellowship awakened, all heeding the cry,

Doing their best,

To halt those who die.

Silvan elf of calm forest holds evil at rest,

Watcher over all,

From kind heart within breast.

Heir to the throne of human hope plies,

Peace within souls,

And stills of no lies.

Essential Istari of white to which they doth call,

Vanuish the lightening,

Eyes open to all…'

Further and longer more the rhyme continued, and they were all in it. Every single one of them. Pausing from his frantic search, Aragorn's deep voice trailed off as the Prophecy's meanings finally came to him. But as the blanket previously shrouding his eyes disappeared, another distraction was pulled forth. They needed an Istari? But Gandalf was the only Istari they knew, and he hadn't arrived as of yet.

'Probably not just as well,' Thought Aragorn with uncertainty. For though Gandalf was late, the Ranger couldn't help but wonder if this mess could have all been averted by the presence of their powerful friend. They would have to wait. He just hoped Merry could hold on a while longer.

Pushing all such thoughts of desolation from his mind, Aragorn shook his head. The answers he sought only seemed to reveal more puzzling questions, and given his current mood, contemplation only frustrated him all the more.

Cursing in futile resignation and angered hope, he reached once more into his pack, hastily ripping open the wrapped parcels, only to find they were the wrong ones.

'Athelas, Athelas! I am sure I had some left in my pack, but yet I see none!' Aragorn was drawing toward the end of his supplies, and as he reached the last one, hope clung desperately to his heart. 'Please, let something go right…'

Shaking, his hands gathered the soft package up worriedly, and he cradled it possessively, like a child does a toy. Gently, he lay the tiny object upon his hand, and pulled back the cloth covering it.

His mood sank into a deep rage, as his voice rose quaveringly and echoed in the chamber as he spoke his next words.

'Pipe weed! I should have known, for our luck always grows ever smaller! What good is this!' And with a last effort born of aggravation, he picked up his now empty bag and threw it against the far wall.

Legolas had watched this entire angered exchange with a hope of his own, but his heart had sunken as low as Aragorn's in the revealing of the final package. Casting his eyes down to the dejected bag, the young prince felt his heart skip a beat. For there, lying caught and hidden by the hood of the sack was another bundle. Tiny, but quite possibly the right shape.

With renewed expectations, Legolas slid off his chair and flew with quick haste toward the concealed object. Kneeling with painful expense from his healing thigh upon the hard floor, he untied the strings that clutched the parcel, and progressed with unwrapping it.

'Aragorn,' he whispered quietly, a relieved grin growing on his fair face.

The Ranger turned, frowning. Though his features visibly relaxed when he noticed the leaves that lay in the elf's hands.

'Good. Though all that is needed, is still not well.' Human and elf eyes caught each other from across the room, and simultaneously both glanced toward the bed. 'An Istari is needed, and Gandalf is not here.'

'Bu-'

Legolas was cut off as Aragorn raised his hand, calling for pause. When silence was again upon them, he recited the sorrowing lines that dispelled ease, in a clear voice.

' …Essential Istari of white to which they doth call,

Vanuish the lightening,

Eyes open to all…'

'So you understand it as I do also.' Legolas paused and let loose a mournful sigh, shaking his head and looking with sorrow upon the afflicted hobbit. His next words were so quiet that the Ranger barely heard them.

'…We can wait no longer…'

A nod and two brief words were all the answer he received.

'…I know…'

*****

The three hobbits and Gimli sat dejectedly out in the cold corridor, waiting for summons from those inside the room ahead.

From his uncomfortable position on the ground, Frodo could see the other two hobbits, and he watched them in boredom. Sam sat not far from him, though on the other side of the hallway. His eyes were closed, and his head leant back on the wall, resting. For in truth during the past two days, the three worried hobbits had gained little sleep, constantly staying by Merry's side, in hope of some improvement.

Pippin was the worst of them all. Barely eating but when forced, and never sleeping, he had become an insomniac. Unaware of this, and yet out of unbeatable concern for his cousin, the young hobbit's mood had developed from his usual joyous self, and grown into an inexcusable rage. No one dared talked to Pippin except out of pity. Though he welcomed neither, and shunned those who moved any closer than half a room. Frodo was surprised he had even talked to Aragorn, but when he thought about it, there was really no choice.

Since the Ranger's arrival, the young Took's temperament had improved somewhat, though not enough to welcome conversation, and so with a wary eye most had avoided any contact with him.

Shifting his eyes to the one whom his thoughts mulled over, Frodo came to see that nothing had changed.

Pippin sat hunched, hands around knees far off down the giant hallway. Separated. Not one aspect of his face was visible to either of the others, and for the entire time that Frodo watched him, he did not move. Nor did he intend to.

Grief had changed their friend. Some uncommon feeling so great, that had diminished the Pippin they knew and released something cold and unfriendly.

A steady creak interrupted the hobbit's streamlined thoughts, and he looked up. In the highly arched doorway stood Aragorn, regal yet haggard in his appearance. His black hair hung limp and forgotten to his shoulders, and his cloak and tunic were filthy with dried mud. He had not noticed this previously, but now that he caught this detail, it appeared that the weight of the world hung upon the heir's shoulders.

'…Or maybe a life,' The Baggins thought wonderingly.

'We are ready,' Spoke Aragorn suddenly. 'And we do not have much time. When you enter, sit quietly and listen, for there is much to explain.' The tone was authoritative, and held no room for question. Without further breath or talk, he turned and walked back into the room with heavy strides.

The four soon followed single file, Frodo in lead and Pippin followed by Gimli at the rear. Silence ensued. It was a time of contemplation.

As he entered the chamber, a familiar, faintly earthen smell wafted airily into his senses, and he looked for its source. Upon Merry's bare chest lay a wad of green leaves, obscuring the wound underneath. He recognised it instantly as Athelas, and had seen it once before in Lorien.

Scanning the room further, as the scent had been confirmed, he spotted four seats propped firmly against the far wall, facing the bed. Assuming they were for them, the hobbits sat themselves down and obeyed the command for silence, waiting instead for either of the other two to talk.

Legolas stood from his position near the bed, and stretched painfully, though with catlike grace. Moving over to Aragorn, he cast a hopefully reassuring look toward the confused hobbits, though their eyes were downcast in solitude, and they did not notice his concern.

A silence followed, for the hobbits could neither speak, and the dwarf did not wish to, fearing questions that would relay further confusion. Finally, the stalwart Ranger broke the quiet, and began his tale with a smooth and strong voice, that echoed eerily in the room around them.

'As I said before, we have little time and much to accomplish. Though we will not need your help, we will require your presence, and most essentially your silence. For what we are about to do requires much strength of will, and the Prophecy states tha-'

'What prophecy?' Pippin snapped this irritably, as much out of confusion as out of helplessness. He ignored the hard stare from Aragorn, and turned instead to the elf, who stood soundless by the Ranger's side, at the foot of the white bed. 'Of what Prophecy does he speak of, Legolas?'

The young prince turned uncertainly toward Aragorn, who bade him to continue.

'The Prophecy that Elessar speaks of, is a tale from lo-' Again Pippin interrupted, furious and harsh. Patience was all removed from him as he spoke this.

'You dare place my cousin's life upon a tale, upon words that have no meaning?'

Strained calm remained upon the elf's features, and his next words were spoken with barely withheld chagrin. 'Words that have no meaning? These words so as you put it, shall save your cousin's life, and the more you interrupt, the further Merry does drift from us. Allow me to continue, and I shall show you the basis of these words.' Challenge was in his voice, but if there were any objections, all were quelled, and Legolas continued glaring meaningfully at Pippin.

'"The Prophecy" as we now call it, originates from a tale told long ago, over the fires of my race. But as Aragorn and I found, it is not simply a tale. What is happening to Merry, is called "The Arm of Darkness," and it is the very beginnings of it. Only the start of a very long rhyme, that goes on to tell of potential darkness and…' Legolas paused hesitantly, and closed his eyes in sorrow, hoping he had not said too much.

'Now is not the time to speak of such stories or such questions.' Aragorn's voice rose when the elf's had fallen, sensing the indecision that had befallen him. 'It is the time to act. Listen carefully, for I will not repeat my words. This wound of Merry's is in no truth simple, for much concentration it does need. There is an evil growing, growing greatly in his mind, and it will not fall unless we stop it. To do so, we must battle two versus one against it, and beat it back. Kill it. Under no basis are you to interrupt us, touch us while we are healing, for in doing so without the necessary knowledge would be to doom Merry, and to doom us all.' The Ranger's last words were spoken coldly and deliberately, so as to infuse the meaning upon the hobbit's minds.

With that, all talking ceased, and the six fell into an uncomfortable silence. The only sounds heard, were those of the laboured breathing of Merry, raspy and wheezy, desperate for air.

A resolute sigh was heard suddenly, and all eyes came to rest upon Legolas, who had shifted from his place by Aragorn's shoulder, and now knelt on Merry's left, his hand upon his breast. Elf and dwarf, then elf and human shared understanding looks, eyes glittering and hearts pounding.

And so, with a knowing glance the Ranger moved to sit on Merry's right, his hand over the elf's shoulder and his own.

'Remember what I told you all,' Aragorn spoke lastly to the four that sat behind him. A grunt from the frowning dwarf, and a mumble from the hobbits was the only acknowledgement that he received, and all he waited to receive.

He turned and whispered faintly to the elf, laying a questioning hand upon his shoulder. 'You know what to do?'

'As well as you do, Aragorn. As well as you.' Legolas laid a hand on his comrade's shoulder also, closing his eyes and calming his racing mind. For thoughts of the missing Istari propelled through his head. This worried him. He had not concerned himself with the absence of Gandalf before, true, he hadn't much considered it. But now it plagued his mind with doubts. Could they prevail over this evil without the aid of their White Rider?

'…I hope so…'

A voice broke through his disturbed thoughts, replying to his statement not three seconds previous.

'Glad I am of that, my friend. Though we shall need to lean upon each other I think, this is no simple task we attempt now, particularly without Gandalf's assistance. But we cannot wait though, and we cannot fail. It is time.'

Without waiting for an answer that would not come, Aragorn removed his hand from the comfort of his companion's shoulder and placed it about the moaning hobbit's forrid.

Instantly, the world faded to black, and the last thing either saw was the face of the other, wide-eyed and anxious.

And from not that greater distance, though obviously too far off, a deep mourning voice could be heard throughout the hills of the Shire.

'…No…!'

AUTHORS NOTE: SEE!!!…that chapter covered like no time at all! Hehehe…ah well, it happens. I didn't accomplish what I wanted to in this chapter, though I think it's a sufficient fill in. I really hope you guys can bear with me while I write all these tedious chapters, cos I have ideas for later on that I think/HOPE you'll like ^v^

Anyway, I'm working on building up my paragraphs, as I don't tend to describe very much (thanks for pointing that out SweetAngels3, I've noticed that myself. I dunno if it worked very well, but if you guys think its an improvement or not, speak up.

Man its fun making up prophecies and such! Hehehe. And I know theres only pieces of it in the fic so far, but that's because it'd almost give away the end of the story, so I'll fit it all in for ya's some time later to add to the story line. I know its only three lines of very badly rhyming verse, but hey! It happens. ^v^

Erm…what else? Oh yeah, me being typical me, I'm gonna go to bed and not even edit this, so if there are mistakes, I'll fix them up in the morning…when I'm awake…kay?

TO: Kaeera…I know my chapters tend to end with cliff hangers…but its only a to be continued right?…its like yer not gonna have to wait for another year to read the next chapter…promise^v^….nope, I'm not like peter jackson depriving us of parts 2 and 3 for another two years. **sniff**…okay, u get it! Hehehe. Lol…oh and you use '…'s' too? ….same, …can't ya tell?! Hehehe…

TO: Daylight…More tension…kinda, but not really ^v^

TO: Jet…Lol…am I that predictable?! Hehehe (probably! Ah well!) dead on the mark…lol…these prophecies are making my brain curl:S hehehe.

TO: Blood Thirsty…I haven't apologised so far? Okay? But flame me if ya feel the need! ;)

TO: Shen Panda…cool….no bad cliffies?! What about that one?!….that's gotta be a low. Hehe. Erm…I know I haven't explained about the wraiths, but its in part of the rhyme and its going to be in the next couple of chapters…the characters need to have a niiiiiiiiiiiiice long talk to sort stuff out. Sheesh…I dunno ay…what to do, what t do! ^v^

TO: ALL OF YA'S!…Thanks for the great reviews, I hope you enjoy this chapter…though very little is even done, but yeah…hope ya's like it!