| Subject: The vision |
Author:
Rhylin
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Date Posted: 18:17:10 05/06/02 Mon
He stands on a wasteland, no wind blows but the air is alive with the shouts of men, dwarves, orcs and faeries.
Faeries?
Their presence startles him for a moment until he remembers his vision and Laeriel's mission. Obviously Elessar has accepted the offer of assistance. An army of snarling orcs bare their teeth within rows of rusty steal.
The vision takes him closer to the action and he can see the leaders of the free people. Elessar, wearing his winged helm, Anduril clasped in his outstretched hand calls for the charge. The elf Legolas riding beside him, head low over the horse's neck. Gimli the dwarf, leads the armies of the glittering caves. King Eomer responds to Elessar's shout and the men of Rohan gallop towards the goblin army. Laeriel, on foot, surrounded by faeries, one of whom he recognises as himself.
The vision grows faint and Rhylin strains against it, desparate to see more but the colours of the battlefield grow dim and are lost as a new picture appears.
He sees himself standing with the elf.
"Arwen, I'm so sorry. If there's anything I can do..."
"There's nothing you can do."
Then this too fades.
This time in courtyard, shadowed in night's cloak, stand Arwen and Elessar. The gentle scent of the white tree floats on the breeze as does the sound of raised voices.
"I thought you had gone; that you didn't love me. What was I supposed to do, spend the rest of my life as a hermit?"
"You could've looked for me!"
"How did you expect me to do that? You stole my palantir!"
"Well you didn't have to lie!"
He feels the faint touch of embarressment upon the cheeks of his spirit and is glad when this scene is pulled away from him and the battlefield forms again.
Laeriel's slender figure huddled over, her tears staining the dusty earth. He can almost feel the misery radiating off her yet the cause of her grief is not obvious. He stands there detached, a transparent form and she looks up, as if she sees him. Then finally this vision fades and he is hurled roughly into the comforting weight of his body.
Shakily he rose to his feet. Arracus and Arwen stood not 4 feet away from him and the prince ran to his friend.
"They are getting worse," Rhylin whispered. "I don't know how many more I can stand."
He turned to the she elf who stood alone where Arracus had left her. He would not tell her what he had seen, it would only serve to make matters worse. Yet as Arracus led him away, still trembling, Rhylin's heart swelled with compassion. Many ordeals awaited her. He could only hope she would have the strenght of spirit to survive them.
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