May it Be | THE LORD OF THE RINGS 🖋

.7. Watery Visions of Harrowing Death

Deirdre's P.O.V

I awoke to the sounds of running water coming from a source nearby. Remembering that I was still in Rivendell, this should not have been a surprise as the house of Lord Elrond had multiple waterfalls scattered throughout its foundations, but this sound was to close by to be one such waterfall.

Shifting silently in bed I untangled my legs from my emerald gown and retrieved my dagger from beneath my pillow. The door to the wash room, which was located to the west of my living quarters, was slightly ajar and the sound that had woken me was undoubtably coming from beyond it.

Stealthily making my way towards the door, I readied my blade, and swung it open.

'Lower your blade, Naerwen,' came a silk like voice, 'you will find no enemy here.'

'Arwen?'

Sure enough Lady Arwen stood by the bath, filling it with fresh water and scented oils.

'Surely you would not wound a friend just for preparing you a bath?' She smiles.

She wore her long dark hair straight with strands pinned back away from her face. Her pale blue gown made her eyes sparkle and white skin shine like starlight.

'No, I don't suppose I would.' I gave a faint laugh and placed my dagger down upon the nearest surface.

'Father has requested your presence at dinner. Get in while the water is still hot; I will lay out some clothes for you.'

'Thank you,' I said whole-heartedly as she placed her delicate hand atop my shoulder before exiting the wash room.

My entire body relaxed as soon as my skin came in contact with the warm water of the bath; the aroma of the scented oils filling my senses causing me to lay my head back and sigh.

Suddenly I was no longer warm, in fact I was rather very cold. I was dressed in my battle gear, only my robe was white rather then green, and I was covered from head to toe in a mixture of sweat, dirt and blood.

One of my hands gripped the hilt of my blade whilst I held my dagger in the other. The wind wiped my long black hair in my face, but the wind held no aid in escaping the cold as the breeze ripped through me like shards of ice.

It was only then that I noticed the scene before me. In a pile, much like the ones seen at the end of a great battle when the dead are collected and piled together, laid the corpses of my deceased friends.

Fighting back tears I dropped both my weapons, the metal of the blades hitting the stone floor with a awful clashing sound. My chest heaved and tears blurred my vision. Blinking to restore my sight, thick, hot tears rolled down my face as I saw the faces of those I had come to care for.

Frodo's lifeless eyes stared up at me through unblinking lids. Gandalf's grey hair was red with blood. Merry and Pippin had clasped their hands together during their final breaths and young Samwise Gamgee had stayed by Frodo's side, even in death.

The final face I dared look upon was that of Strider's. He was bruised and battered, with a large gash diagonally across his face, perfectly between his eyes . His grey eyes stared at me with no emotion and no signs of life within their once intimidating depths.

His head suddenly rolled to look directly at my now tear stained face. I shriek as I held my chest from the pain in my heart of seeing the death of my friends.

Strider seemed to be watching me but it had to be in my head for he was as dead as the rest.

'...help us...' I heard a soft yet vaguely familiar voice.

Looking upon the lifeless face of Strider.
I watch as his lips began to move.

'...help us...' He croaked again.

'How?' I whispered, my voice thick with grief.

'...save us....you're...the only one....you can save us...'

Just as quickly as Strider's body seemed to become reanimated, his body once agin became limp.

Falling to the ground I used what strength I had left to pull his body away from the pile and laid his torso upon my lap to cradle his dead body back and forth as new tears spilled from my eyes.

'I am so sorry...so very sorry...' I whispered over and over, placing my lips gently upon his cold temple.

As I sat and wept for my fallen comrades, as warm glow began to emanate from under Strider's tunic.

Feeling around his collar for the source, I felt a chain touch my finger tips. Snapping the chain and pulling it from his chest I saw the small but intricate crystal pendent which Lady Galadriel had gifted to me.

The light grew brighter and brighter, spreading out over Strider's body and mine, bathing us in its warmth.

I closed my eyes, to shield them from the light, but when I reopened them I found no battle scene, no bright light and no dead friends lying around me, for instead I saw sunlight reflecting of water and my hair flowing around me in the depths of the bath in the the wash room.

Rushing to the surface I gasped as my lungs filled with air. I coughed and heaved as I tried to regain my breath from both being submerged in water and from what I had seen.

Was this our fate? To die upon the swords of our enemies? To never see Middle-Earth rid of this evil once and for all?

Pushing my drenched hair out of my face, I pulled my knees up to my chin and wrapped my arms around them.

The warm water of the bath could not shake the chills running down my spin or stop my body from shaking so instead I just say there in the depths of my despair and cried, hoping that by the time Arwen would return that I would be ready to face this world...now that I knew what lay ahead.