| Subject: The Wind |
Author:
Arwen
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Date Posted: 08:43:25 06/05/02 Wed
"Something has changed. I sense it on the wind." Arwen spoke, her voice thin and weak. The Lord Celeborn turned.
"You have not fallen completely then, although you are too weak to read what it says."
That was true. When she had arrived at Rivendell almost two months ago, her body had almost given out. Arwen had remained in a death-like sleep for some weeks, until final the Elven magic of Imladris, and the powers of Celeborn had enabled her to wake. Slowly, her health was increasing, but to no avail. She had but a few weeks until the birth of her child, and after then her strenght and her body would give in.
"There is evil abroad," He continued, "but we do not have the power to fight it until absolutely necessary. Even then, now without the Elven rings, we cannot protect this place other than our Elvish presence, and the very Elvish spirit of Imladris." Great sadness filled his voice, and Arwen felt he knew more than that of which he had spoken.
Her power was weak, and she knew that is anything were to happen, she would be useless, a burden. She had not the strenght to stand, and for most days she wuld rest inside, in her deathly slumber. One day, simply, no-one would be able to wake her from it.
She was dying, her only love killing her.
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