| Subject: Straightening out her Head |
Author:
Arwen
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Date Posted: 22:11:50 05/13/02 Mon
She had pushed the palantir away long ago. Her desire to run down the water and throw in into the depths was flattened, when she realised it was her only link to the world she had become accustomed to. But it was not her world. Not anymore. She had no links to Minas Tirith now. No reason to be here, Rhun. No reason to even be in Middle- Earth.
A sharp pain flarred across her chest, it left her bent double, gasping for breath. Within moments it was gone. Yet a deep pain linged on inside her. Cutting, cruel, and yet somewhat bearable compared with the pain of her own thoughts.
It was as she lay in her room, that realisation dawned. This was no ordinary pain. Her heart was breaking. The love was gone. He did not love her. Any doubts she might have had were disregarded. He did not want her. He did not love her. All the time she had spent with him, the days, the nights. She loved him more than life its self, for she had give her life to be with him.
He had taken all the love, all the hope, that she had given him, and kept in for himself. Nothing in return. Except the pain that would take over her body, see her until death. He was killing her. Slowly, each memory another turn of the knife. He must have loved her once . The season in Lorien they had spent together, where she had made her choice. To spend all the days of their lives together, and in turn she would forsake immortality to die and be with him again. They would walk in the green gardens of Middle- Earth, and then, leave for acros the seas. As was the way of Beren and Luthien. She had once said herself that she may be bound to the fate of Luthien. Now she was wrong. Beren's love for her had never wavered.
Love. Pure and strong. Yet terrible, painful. Destructive and creative. Like the child inside her. Aragorn may reject her. But he could not reject his own son.
An heir. An heir to all of Gondor. She would not let this heir fall to corruption and ruin. She would not let Elessar take the baby from her. If she lived until then.
She would return. How, she knew not. Her only hope was that somehow her horse had been brought here, and she could ride back. Claim what she could for her son. He would need it, if he was ever to return to the city as a prince.
And the broach. A sign of hope. She had given it to Elessar, but the truth was, she would need more hope than even that could give her. She would speak to Rhylin, or Arracus. She knew not how, but she would return, only briefly. For soon, the worst would be upon her, and it would be too late.
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