Song of the Marchwarden - A Deathless Death

Chapter 27 - Awakening

Screaming slammed you into awareness. You were in darkness, unable to move and cold. You realised the scream was coming from you, but you had no control over your voice. It felt broken, as every part of you did. Pain consumed you, it was all the had ever been, and all that ever would be. Emptiness leaked from every pore. You felt the wetness of tears flood your eyes. You were drowning in a black sea, enveloping you at a painfully slow pace as you fought to move you body. It was no use. Your body refused to obey the commands of your mind. You were not even sure it was worth fighting for. You surrendered to the bleak, hopelessness of your pain. The tendrils of darkness snaked their way over your body, up your neck, and you heard a whisper, "Gaeariel."

You instinctively shot your head towards the sound. So, you can move. Firmly, "Gaeariel."

"Gaeariel, listen to me. I know you can hear me. The darkness brings forth many evils, but it is not your time to surrender. You must fight it."

There was a silky familiarity to the voice, but you could not place it. I cannot, I do not know what I am fighting for, there is only pain.

"Listen to me, it is Thranduil. I can do only so much, but you must fight. You are a warrior, are you not?"

I am nothing.

You gasped as you saw the voice take form in front of you. Thranduil, in his splendour, robes splayed out behind him, gracefully bent to your side. "You will listen to me, Gaeariel. You must fight this, you must awaken. You are a warrior; you were born to fight."

"I have bewitched her waking dreams, but she is lost." Thranduil sighed. "She remembers nothing but the darkness that tore her fëa and her powers. she is tethered neither here, nor in Valinor."

Galadriel paced the room, as Celeborn comforted her. "We cannot stand idly by, she will fade and then what?"

"I can do only what I am capable of, Galadriel this is old magick that I learned from my father. I do not wish her to succumb any more than you. Are you sure you cannot gain entry to her mind?"

"I am sure, Thranduil. Nenya grows weak." She said as she absent-mindedly rubbed her fingers over the ring.

"There will come a point........" Thranduil could not end his sentence, and it hung in the air, an unspoken death sentence.

Galadriel sat beside on you the bed, you lay unconscious in robes of white, your pallor matching. Your red rose bud lips were tinted blue, your breaths shallow.

"I will rest, and try once more." Thranduil left the room, his eyes lingering on your lifeless body. "We must summon Mithrandir."

You had managed to crawl out the slimy wet pool, and found yourself on a rock. You could smell rotten meat, sweat and dirt. Orcs? Orcs. You shook your head, knowing something and knowing nothing.

"Gaeariel, you are running out of time. You must listen to me."

You turned to see Thranduil once more.

"Orcs." You said simply, avoiding his gaze. You wrung your hands.

"Gaeariel, the darkness has fallen. You must remember, you are a warrior! In armour of gold, like the sun!"

He appeared in front of you, grasping you by the wrists, imploring you to remember, "I gave you armour, you fought valiantly in Helm's Deep."

Your eyes were empty and lifeless.

"Eru, you were a vision in your armour. Even if you did have ugly hair."

Ugly hair.

A tickle of memory past awoke within you. Thranduil saw recognition pass over your eyes.