Love’s Life – -P8-He Speaks Beyond the Grave

by Mar 21, 2004Stories

Upon coming back into the room Alenor saw that Rana was wide awake. He was sitting on his bed, which seemed quite impossible by the mass of blankets that was strewn upon it messily. He was looking at his hands that were folded neatly on his lap and his brow creased in deep lines as if her were unsettled. He hardly looked up upon his sister’s coming.

“Rana?” Alenor asked sitting beside him, after pushing blankets away and creating a spot to sit. “Is something wrong?” The young Elf gave a start before looking up.

“I still don’t understand,” he said, it was plain by his voice that he was deeply hurt and confused. “I understood that she would die, but not why! Grandfather said it was her time, but I don’t understand why it was her time!” he looked at Alenor expectantly, as if she could possibly have the answer. Alenor took her brother’s hands in her own. “You’re wet.”

“I was on the bridge near the waterfall,” Alenor explained with a slow smile that quickly faded. “Rana I can explain nothing for you.” Rana ripped his hands away and looked at Alenor with a slowly growing anger.

“But why not?” he demanded. A few tears threatened to fall across his face. “Why can’t you explain?”

“I was never a child,” Alenor said, her voice slow for she was unwilling to admit so. “Most of my time was spent caring for you. I never knew my mother well and I knew that she had to go. I never saw from your view brother and if I did it is long past and I cannot remember.” Rana looked at her with downfallen expression.

“Then you are no help,” he muttered. “Why did I even ask?”

“Rana do not be upset with me!” Alenor pleaded. She reached to grasp his hands once more, but he pulled away. “In time you will understand. It took time for me as well to see that I could not live as child any longer. In time you will see why mother had to leave.”

“Time?” Rana cried sitting up quite straight. “Time? How much time? Till I am old and withered?”

“You are one of the First Born you will not wither only grow older and wiser,” Alenor explained.

“And what if I chose death?” Rana demanded. “Then I would pass and see mother again.” Alenor looked at him in horror.

“Rana,” she said gently, trying not to sound as if she were forcing him in any direction. “When you grow older perhaps you will understand. I can give you no other warning. Please try to understand me.” Rana scowled hard at her.

“I often wondered why you were my sister,” he said icily and Alenor lowered her eyes. “I finally found out! To subdue me and torture me!” Alenor could see from where she lifted her eyes cautiously that Rana was crying a river of tears. He bounded from bed and fled from her. Unable to wait until she came to the two places Alenor fell across the heaps of blankets and fell across Rana’s pillow, burying her face into the pillow as if she could suffocate herself and cried.

She wasn’t sure how long she had cried, telling herself over and over to retreat where she could cry in peace. Her tears had long ended, but her face was still hid in the pillow, her hair creating a gentle curtain so that one could not see her face. Alenor still wished to cry, but tears did not come and she did not retreat.

After a while she became aware of a presence beside her. She lifted her head slightly to see a young man sitting on the bed. She took little notice that the room had suddenly dropped into freezing depths nor that the door was shut, and barred, by nothing that her eyes could see. All she had eyes for was the young Elf, for indeed Elf he was by the way the tips of the ears that showed and the way he looked at her with wisdom, though he was but young.

“Who are you?” Alenor asked. Her voice sounded distant to her own ears. She felt she should know who it was, but could not recall, in looks he was nearly akin to Elrohir and her brother as well. The name was on the edge of her mind, but was unable to come forth as something held it there. The young Elf smiled kindly at her and brushed a remaining tear away. His hands were ice and Alenor shrank away, for she was suddenly afraid of this Elf.

“Do not be afraid,” he spoke gently. “My name is not your business as your name is not mine.” Alenor had the feeling that this Elf knew her name and recognized her from the way his eyes moved and smile lingered. She shivered noticing the cold suddenly.

“Who are you?” she tried to demand, but it hardly came out that way.

“If you persist,” he said slowly as if weighing his words. “I will only say I have come to give advice.”

“Of whom?” Alenor asked, growing more suspicious. The Elf must have noticed this for his smile broadened.

“You are wise,” he mused as if to himself. “To you of course and your brother.” Alenor tried to sit, but felt as if she were glued to the bed and unable to move. Her teeth began to shatter.

“But why?” she stammered. His hand gently swept across the exposed side of her brow. Alenor tried to shrink away but was unable to move. The stranger gently cupped her face lifting her into sitting position. “Why can’t I move?” she cried in sudden fear.

“If I were to allow you to move you would bolt like a frightened horse. Not that it would do much other then get you hurt,” he explained gently. “You have grown and so has Rana.” Alenor was getting more and more afraid by the moment. His chilling hands remained engraved as if in stone and coldness lay there heaviest as if icy claws gripped her there.

“You are afraid,” he spoke kindly. “I know you well and your family child. Tell Rana that in time he will understand. Tell him that your mother is finally happy once more. He will choose then what he wishes and you cannot hinder him. Tell Elrohir also that I forgive him for any wrongs that he has against me. It was my time and it could not be undone. Do not ask how I know, just tell him.” Alenor felt her whole body shaking from the cold. The Elf smiled once more, his dark eyes flashing, yet not with anger. He stood up and then bent low over Alenor.

He bent down and kissed her forehead. The chill made her want to jerk back, she still couldn’t move. The Elf straightened. He reached a hand for Alenor’s forehead and gently laid it there. There it rested for some time as he looked at her, as if he was recalling old memories.

“I’ll come back; I will not be the same, but old memories will I keep. You will remember me then,” he told her. “She will come to, but strangers we will be, and neither by hand of Elf of Man shall we find each other, but by our own. Remember this Alenor, and keep it with you for soon comes the time when I shall return.” He looked at her as she shivered. “REST!!” his voice was powerful and commanding and the room seemed to grow darker as he said it. Alenor felt herself falling, falling as if she would never stop. Her last blurred image was that of him stepping back and vanishing as one vanishes into the mist.

Troubled dreams flashed through the darkness. Passing by so quickly that Alenor could not grasp them before they sped away into the darkness that surrounded her. Then a light spoke to her and called her back and she recognized the person speaking.

Alenor sat up bolt straight in bed breathing hard. Sweat poured down her voice in rivers. The blankets were twisted about her as if she had some bad dream that she could not recall. She saw the frightened faces of her family, except Aragorn was missing and Legolas it seemed was in his place.

“They are coming back!” she cried and then fell back, swiftly falling back into the realm she had just escaped.

*- Hope I’m not going over it with Rana, if I am, please tell me!


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