Seen by the silent
Heard by the blind
I can only imagine
The pain you
Must feel in secrecy
Keeping under cover
Seeking always shelter
I see the pain
In your eyes
The hurt is known
To my seeing heart
The love between us
I can only barely
Grasp in my small hands
But, my dearest
This is not the end
For me, it is only starting
Though for you I hate
To look into the future
Would it be a bitter
See me tonight
In the fading twilight
Under the stars
In the falling rain
Of mourning tears
I shall forever wait
Explain to me your
Biting angry words
Show to me
That you will hold
Me close when the pain
All fades away into
The deep pit of sorrow
Then, you and I
Together we will go
Into the twilight
Guided by the Son
My Savior God to me
Forget me not
Love me always
My dear, dear love…
As Katrina wrote the words in her notebook, tears stained the paper. The tears were of joy, and pain alike. She was so happy, to be loved and to love, but the pain of the loss of her family was overwhelming. Though she knew Eldarion had not been the one to call her a wretch, the words still hurt, and she would never forget them… Then, in a vain attempt to wipe the tears away, she dropped the notebook out her window. Gasping, she made to reach for it, but failed. She watched it tumble down to the sixth tier. Why did she have to write it on the window sill anyway? What madness had driven her to do so?
Gathering up her dark blue cloak, she slipped on her flip-flops. She straightened her dress and then made her way out of the house of the king. Walking down the long flight of stairs to the next level of the city, she realized something. A dark figure was hiding in the shadows, but she paid it little heed.
It was still early afternoon, but the hours would pass quickly. Only if she did something with herself though.
Katrina came to the street where her notebook had landed, and picked it up. The person watching her from the shadows was making her nervous, but she dared not look. So, huddling her book to herself, she turned to leave, swiftly. If only she could make it to Shadowfax…
Rough hands tried to grab her shoulders, but she twisted away. Breaking into a run, she edged by an old woman, who only turned to see what was making the maiden flee. She let out a cry as the man barreled into her. “Help!” She cried.
Katrina turned, and a sinking feeling clutched her stomach, she wanted to help, but it was not possible. The woman had fallen into a street vendor’s goods. The man who owned the cart yelled at the cloaked man chasing her, then helped the woman out of his food. He made sure she was all right, and then took chase after the offending man.
The maiden hoped with all her might that he would catch him, and she would be free. The stables, they were right in front of her… Just a little further-
Strong arms wrapped around her waist, holding her tightly. She thrashed and wailed, as he carried her into the stables.
The vendor followed them in, only to be caught by the arm by a young woman, also cloaked. “You will not say a word, Malart!” She hissed fiercely at him. “Or I will find little Mîrwen while she sleeps!”
“No!” Malart wept. “I will say nothing… Just leave my daughter out of this! Please…”
“Very well, go.” The cloaked woman released her hold on his arm, he stumbled away, shaking.
“Why would you do that?” Katrina asked. Anger was lit with a spark in her eye.
“Hush, Nenuial,” the man spat at her. He threw her against a pile of hay, and straddled her with his legs while he tied her wrists. “Hold still!” She kicked her legs, but stopped at his command.
“Lord, give me strength…” she muttered. Then, kicking her foot up as he stood, she caught him in between the legs. Thrusting her hands up, she caught his cloak as he doubled over in pain. Her bound hands were incapable of getting a good hold and he got away. Her notebook fell from her grasp as he kicked her ribs. She drew her knees to her chest, and let out a bitter cry of rage. Then, after a sharp whistle, “Shadowfax!”
The white horse reared with such force that the rope holding him snapped. He charged forward, only to be caught by the woman’s hand. She hit his head, unaware of what he was.
The stallion snorted, and drawing his front hooves off the ground he scared the woman. He let out a loud cry.
“Noro lim, Shadowfax! Noro lim!” Katrina cried, her arms raised to cover her head. The horse galloped from the stables, leaving her to deal with the man and woman by herself.
“You think you are so wise?” The woman hauled her up to her feet. “The master will hear of this!”
“What master? Sauron was destroyed!” Katrina spat at her. She towered over her, but the woman had a power about her. The lady’s fingertips burnt the skin on her arm.
The woman grinned wickedly. “Sauron was weak.” She beckoned for the man to take hold of her. While he held Katrina, she bent down and picked up the notebook, as she read, her lips twitched. “How very sad, you pathetic girl!” Dropping the book, she scowled.
“Valeth, I think we should hurry. Someone will start looking for her.” The man shoved her at the woman called Valeth.
“Yes, Deladan, we shall leave. Come, Nenuial!”
“Why do you call me that?” Katrina asked as they led her out of the stables, toward the wall, to her horror.
“It is the name the master has chosen for you.” Valeth glowered at a child who came in her way. She turned to see that their prisoner’s hood was down. With a bitter curse, she pulled the cowl up, so none would recognize fair Nenuial.
Katrina didn’t ask any more questions, she didn’t think she would like the answers. She kept silent, then they came to the wall. Peering over the edge, she thought she might vomit.
Valeth noticed her face pale and laughed. “Don’t worry, insulate child, we will not make you scale Minas Tirith.” She reached down and pulled on a metal ring, a wooden trap door opened up. Jumping through the hole, she smiled up at the girl.
Deladan pushed Katrina down. She was caught by the woman, whose hands burnt into her flesh, but she dared not gasp. He soon jumped down, pulling the door with him.
Suddenly a red light lit the room they stood in. She turned to look at Valeth. The woman held in her hand a phial filled with a crimson liquid. Katrina didn’t even want to know what it was made of, but she was told anyway. “Blood of the White Ladies.”
“The what?” Her question slipped, before she had a chance to check it. Biting her lip she closed her eyes and shook her head.
“The master’s many wives. We have a power of our own, as you will soon see…” Valeth looked at her with hungry eyes.
“You’re one of them? I mean, of course you are! You said we. I should pay attention more-“
“Shut your mouth, girl, our I will shut it for you!” Valeth hissed, her eyes colder than stone. She dug her fingers into her arms, burning the skin, and drawing little drops of blood. Smiling, she caught the blood in a cloth. “You’ll be bleeding a lot more, dear. Get used to it!”
Aragorn drew Arwen into a hug, not caring that Eomer was present with his family. “We shall celebrate with a feast!” He spun her about, drawing laughter from her lips, and that of Lothiriel, Queen of Rohan, daughter of Dol Amroth, for she had heard the lady’s condition.
Eomer smiled, and his son, Elfwine, grinned happily. Eowine giggled, she looked over at Lothiriel. “Mother?”
“What, dear?” Lothiriel looked at her daughter, her smile growing.
“When is she going to have the baby?”
“Six months, child.” Aragorn had let Arwen go, and she was smiling at the young girl. “You may come and see it, if your parents will allow it, after it is born.”
“Mother? Father?” Eowine looked up at her parents, expectantly.
“Certainly, we will all come! I have a wish to see another little one anyway…” Lothiriel stroked her daughter’s hair. She was well aware of her son looking at her. When all other eyes had turned away, she looked over at Eomer, a twinkle in her eye. Her news would wait…
“Another?” Eldarion was beaming at the news. He loved being the older brother to Elenloth and Elanna, and he would love this sibling no less.
“I am glad you are happy. What of you, Elenloth?” Arwen turned to look at her daughter, who had a distant look to her eye. The stare made her uneasy, what was she thinking? She had just turned sixteen and Arwen had seen girls of this age go through stages of anger and displeasure. How would her little star-flower act?
“I think that it will be nice having another little brother or sister. I can teach them how to track. Just as Father and Eldarion have taught me.” She looked up at Aragorn and her brother. A smile played across her lips. “With their help of course…”
“Eldarion,” Aragorn looked at his son, “find Ëarannawen, she is to come to the feast. She is our guest, and from what I understand, she convinced your mother to tell me. Swiftly now! Elenloth, why don’t you go gather a few of the maids and make a lovely dessert.”
“Yes, Father,” both answered, smiling at each other as they left the throne room. Elfwine walked beside Eldarion, the two friends conversing. Little Eowine was with Elenloth, her small mouth running wild in excitement. Eomer and Lothiriel followed, hand in hand to leave the King and Queen of Gondor to themselves. The two spoke with playful banter and sparkling eyes.
Aragorn turned to Arwen. Kissing her, he laughed. “What will we name it?”
“I – I don’t know!” She giggled, as she walked with him towards the large wooden doors. “I guess we will know when the time comes!”
Noro lim, Shadowfax! Noro lim! ~ Ride fast, Shadowfax! Ride fast!
Hey! Don’t hurt me, okay? I needed a plot twist, and this is perfect! Don’t worry, I won’t leave you hanging, too, too, long. ,_, Love you guys! Oh, and Lothmîr, she’s coming back… The poem at the beginning was written by myself.