Aravan {A Lord of the Rings Story}

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A/N: Extremely short but extremely important chapter! Hope y'all enjoy! :)

S•I•X•T•E•E•N

Artanis woke to Gandalf standing above her, an amused look adorning his face.

‘Whatever are you doing?’ he inquired, chuckling.

She grumbled and observed her surroundings: stone hallway accompanied by simple wooden doors; she was still sitting outside of Pippin’s door.

‘I did not wish to leave him. He was frightened,’ she replied.

Gandalf’s entire demeanor altered as she said those words.

‘You never cease to surprise me,’ he said, his voice distant. ‘You are almost like a hobbit yourself…’

Artanis couldn’t stop herself from smiling at this. Although she had only heard of Frodo and Sam, and even though she had only just met Merry and Pippin a few days previous, she commended them with an unquenchable admiration. Being told that she was held in likeness to a hobbit made her light up inside unlike anything else uplifting that had ever been spoken to her.

‘Thank you,’ she said reverently.

He smiled wearily. ‘Come along now,’ he said, helping her to her feet. ‘There is something dark stirring outside the walls of this fortress, and I do not wish for you to be near when it finally arrives. You shall return to your studies, and you will not leave until I come to escort you to safety, unless it unsafe to stay put. Do you understand?’

She nodded in obedience.

‘Good girl,’ he said. ‘Now, shall we get you started?’

She nodded again, giving a small smile this time.

He proceeded to lead her down the hallway and back to the hall of records. Artanis took special notice of the silence of the town. When they had arrived the day before, there had been people everywhere: boys chasing each other with sticks, women purchasing food in the markets, young girls with baskets of clothes resting against their hip, men laughing full, hearty laughter. But now, even in the promising sunshine, it was empty. No laughter echoed off the surrounding walls; no children chased and played their games; no women talked with each other as they shopped for their provisions. There was just…silence. And from what glimpses she managed to catch, everyone was inside, hiding from the impending danger. And it broke Artanis’s heart.  When they finally reached the door, her head hung considerably. Gandalf did not say anything, but gave her an encouraging look. She offered him a forced smile and quietly said goodbye before disappearing through the threshold. Gandalf watched after her for a while, feeling the same burden that she felt.

The winding staircase felt even longer than it had the day before, for today, Artanis was desperate to get her hands on the books that she so eagerly wanted to devour. The moment her feet hit the last stair, she broke into a run, calling a quick ‘hello’ over her shoulder to the old man. She immediately grabbed a book from what was left of her stack from the day before and began to pour over the yellowed and worn pages. The man smiled to himself as he watched her wide, curious eyes skim over the words before her. He took it upon himself to replenish her dwindling supply of history books as she tore through them.

Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes turned to hours. And with each moment that fell to history, Artanis found more and more nothing. But she would not allow herself to be discouraged, because Gandalf was right: there were lots of books, and lots of stories, and any one of them could be hers. And so, she continued on, her perseverance never shrinking despite her consistent failure to find anything relevant.