Aravan {A Lord of the Rings Story}

N•I•N•E•T•E•EN

A/N: Hey everyone, I'm posting this again because for some reason, it's not showing up on my list even though I posed it last night O.o Please let me know if this is the second time I've posted this; wattpad's not been working very well for me lately. Anywho, this is it! This is the chapter where I shall FINALLY reveal things to you lovely people <3 Hope you enjoy! :)

N•I•N•E•T•E•E•N

            Gandalf sent Artanis back to her room and told her to wait there until he came for her. She did as he said, giving Pippin a quick hug before departing. An aura of magnificence radiated from her. Her eyes sparkled and she smiled unceasingly, ecstatic about their victory. She did take a few moments to honor the dead as she passed them, but she knew that they departed in honor, and that was all the more reason to be happy.

            The climb to her chamber was long and tedious, but she didn’t mind all that much. She was just glad that it was over. When she finally arrived, she shed her dirty clothes and went to wash up. Sure enough, the wound in her shoulder had ripped open once more. Her smile faltered for a brief moment as she examined the damage. The cut wasn’t as deep as it had been when she first received it, but it still gaped quite profusely. She noticed that the edges looked purple and sighed, knowing that it was probably infected. She took special care to wash it well as she cleaned the grime and blood from her tired body.

            When she finished, she rewrapped her shoulder and slipped on a loose, light blue, cotton dress and pulled her hair over her shoulder to braid it. And then, she sat on her bed, clasped her hands in her lap, and waited for Gandalf to appear. She ignored the grumbling of her stomach and the aching of her limbs and focused instead on her most recent discovery. She took a shaky breath as the name ran through her mind once more.

            Two hours dragged by slowly. Not once did Artanis move from her spot. She had almost become a statue, lost in her own thoughts. The sun moved across the sky, making the shadows alter and shift and move. The entire room seemed to be stuck in a single pocket of time and thought: the finished battle and her true identity.

            Finally, there was a soft knock at the door.

            Artanis cleared her throat and called, ‘Come in.’

            Gandalf entered, looking older than he had when she had left him.

            ‘Hello, dear one,’ he said kindly, smiling. ‘How are you?’

‘Tired and sore, but happy. I’m really, really happy,’ she replied, grinning.

He chuckled warmly. ‘I am glad to hear it.’

As he came further into the room, he pulled the book that Artanis had given to Pippin out from underneath his robes.

‘Pippin said that it was crucial for this to be delivered to you,’ he said, handing it to her. ‘Would you care to explain?’

Artanis let out a long breath and hugged the book to her chest. ‘I found it, Gandalf. I found my story.’

He nodded and took a seat on the edge of her bed. ‘I figured as much.’

She nodded with wide eyes, unsure of what to say. He gently placed a hand over hers.

‘Why don’t you read it to me?’ he suggested.

Artanis nodded in agreement and proceeded to flip through the pages until she found the one that she was looking for. She inhaled, exhaled, and began: