Immortalitui // Faramir 🥀

Chapter Eighteen - The Fellowship of the Ring

Word Count: 2,522 words. 

Warnings: None. 

"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old..." Elrond announced as they gathered together around a marble table.

Arathiel stood by Gandalf's side, being able to sense that he was still weak from his imprisonment. The wizard had explained to both Arathiel and her brother of the betrayal of Saruman, although she had already seen it. Mithrandir found great interest in her dream.

"...you have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle-Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite, or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom."

Arathiel couldn't help the small smile that graced her otherwise stoic expression. Elrond had always had a way with words, a strange ability to speak as though he knew all of the secrets of the world. She supposed that it was how he was so well-respected in the land of both Elves and others.

"Bring forth the Ring Frodo," her brother commanded softly.

The small Hobbit stepped out of the shadows and Arathiel could feel the darkness move with him as he took the Ring from his pocket, placing it on the marble table that lay in front of us.

As soon as the golden band was on display, she could hear his whispers. His calls and his begs. The mutterings of a mad man that called to her. The elf adverted her gaze to calm herself. Her brother watched her with concern.

"In a dream..." Boromir's voice drifted through the silence that had fallen on the large company. The elf drew her attention to the man, watching as he stood and slowly moved towards the Ring. "...I saw the Eastern sky grow dark... but in the West a pale light lingered. A voice was crying: 'Your doom is near at hand. Isildur's Bane is found." Isildur's Bane." His last words were all but a whisper.

Arathiel had not realised it, but her body had began to move on its own. Whether it was towards the whispering Ring or to her Gondorian friend, she did not know. What the elf did know was that she had to stop him from touching it.

Her hand grasped around Boromir's wrist, pulling his gaze back to her. Thunder in her expression, she watched the fear that fell across her friend, causing him to stumble back and out of her hold.

"Ash nazg durbatulûk," Gandalf boomed, standing from his chair as he uttered the Black Speech.

Arathiel's legs fell out from underneath her as it felt like the wound had burst on her side. The words were all too familiar to her, a language that she had spoken a long time ago, a chant that he had repeated over and over again.

"Ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk."

The sky grew dark as the pain grew. Boromir had rushed forward to catch her before she could fall, now watching between the wizard and his Elven friend.

"Agh burzum-ishi krimpatul," he finished and as his words fade as did the darkness that had surrounded Rivendell.

Boromir looked at his seemingly injured friend. "Are you alright my lady?"

She could still feel the remnants of the darkness. In the Ring it was contained, unable to touch her, but through the dark speech, she knew that he was there. Mithrandir's words or not, they were a part of him.

"What have you done to the Lady Arathiel?" Gimli's voiced echoed as he stood, axe in hand. The dwarves with him also unsheathed their weapons. "I will have your head wizard!"