1) The new names that you will encounter here is not – repeat – ARE NOT Elven names. Just thought you should know… Oh and if you want to know why I named the characters as I did, write it in your comments.
2) This is the direct continuation of the last chapter, it starts from the moment when the previous chapter has ended.~
Aragorn strode over to the rock that Hèbe was standing on. He stopped behind her, waiting for a response, but she showed no signs of noticing his presence. He sat down at her side.
Hèbe was lost in distant memories. The things that came back to her now were… Impossible, not real. They made no sence, yet that was her past. She couldn’t ignore it, but she needed proof. She searched through her mind and found it. A way to proov to herself.
Closing her eyes, she whispered some words which haven’t been heard in Middle-earth in countless generations.
Legolas, who was watching Aragorn and Hèbe from his place amidst the fellowship, felt a sudden breeze of cold wind. He looked up, and a gasp escaped his lips: The clouds were moving with immense speed, faster than noble horses.
“Storm!” shouted the Elf. “Run for cover, friends!”
Aragorn heard it. He sprang to his feet and put a hand on Hèbe’s shoulder, in order to pull her away and find a place to hide in, but Hèbe resisted.
“Storm!” Legolas cried in their direction. “You must come down. St – ” He stopped abruptly, his eyes widening in disbelief: The clouds have stopped.
When Aragorn heard Legolas’s abrupt shout, he thought that the Orcs have finally left Moria to chase them. He touched the handle of Anduril, but Hèbe put her shivering hand on his.
“It’s alright,” she whispered gently, “it’s alright.”
Slowly Aragorn let go of the sword, still suspicious. He noticed a curious glitter in Hèbe’s eyes and asked, “What is on your mind?”
“Nothing,” she smiled. “I was only wondering: What race do you think I belong to?”
Aragorn lifted his eyebrows in surprise. “Well,” he said slowly, “I don’t know. If you were a Hobbit, you would be the tallest one that has ever existed.”
Hèbe laughed and replied, “True, I’m not a Hobbit. What AM I then, in your oppinion?”
“You couldn’t be an Orc or a troll… could you?”
Hèbe merely smiled at him.
“I think you might be an Elf,” said Aragorn, glancing at her ears, which were covered by her hair. “Or…” he hesitated. “Or if you were human, you could be the last queen of Númenor.”
Hèbe nodded to herself. She knew what those last words meant to him, but she said nothing. Instead, she reminded him one more thing.
“Sitary?!” Aragorn uttered. His eyes narrowed. “Perhaps you could be.”
“I will tell you then. I am both Elf and Sitary,” said Hèbe quietly, revealing her ears, “but truly I am non of them. I am daughter to Aurora Efiriel, Lady of the Skies, and to Gandalf the Grey himself. I was sent to a different time by my parents in my youth. They wanted to protect me from the dangers of Middle-earth. But I became restless. I longed to return, to come back here, although I didn’t know why – or how. Finally, I managed it. And then I met you, up on the Caradhras. I was destined to rise with my father’s fall, and here I am. The movement of the clouds was my bidding, for my name is also called Vaeteriel – Lady of the Winds.
“They are mine to control, mine to take or leave, mine to awaken or to put to sleep. I can cause terrible storms, I can give you light winds for cooling. The Sorceress that has been dormant in me for a long time has awakened.”
Hèbe’s voice filled the air like one of her winds. “May the Lord of the Rings be warned: his powers are not enough to face all of us, the whole fellowship, together. May he fear me like the wolf fears the fire. May he avoid me like the cat avoids water, Beware!”
She gazed eastwards and stood up, her eyes shooting lightnings. Aragorn saw her now very noble and very powerful. His heart beat quicker at her beauty, her upright standing.
“Beware, Dark Lord,” she continued. “The day will come when I will face you, and then we shall measure our powers against each other.” She lowered her glance and the aura of power wore off.
She grinned. “We should be going now. Come,” she said to Aragorn.
He rose slowly and stood beside her. They turned to the waiting friends, but kept their eyes on each other. They merely stood like that for some time. The stunned company felt like they were like this from the dawn of time -powerful, beautiful, together. The two turned their faces to the fellowship at the same time, like one, and joined their friends.
From that moment on, there were no faster friends than Hèbe daughter of Gandalf, the Lady of the Winds and Aragorn son of Arathorn, heir of Elendil. With time’s flow, their friendship rose to a level so high that it was beyond just friendship – much, much more than that.
[Author’s note: I know it looks like it’s the end. It’s not! There are many more adventures to come.]