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Subject: The prophecy

Aragorn and Anawiel [alternately yet not by character]
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Date Posted: 19:15:31 10/13/02 Sun

She tapped a rapid succession of knocks on the old wooden door and stepped fluidly into the room. It had a highly vaulted ceiling and at the far end, behind an ebony desk, sat Elessar, head in hands.

"You wanted to see me?" Suddenley Anawiel felt extremeley timid speaking to the king. The fact she had thrown him against a wall during the early part of her stay was forgotten.

"Yes," Aragorn's voice sounded rough and tired, "I need you to explain. Properly this time, about yourprophecy."
"It is not mine," she commented meekly.
"Explain it to me anyway." He raised his eyes and looked into hers briefly and to his surprise saw fear
lurking in their green depths. What is she afraid of? he wondered as she had made it clear in thepast that she certainly wasn't afraid of him. She's afraid of the future. Of what you have not yet achieved, came the answer.

In the chair opposite him she sat, twisting her dressbetween her fingers, watching intently as the material turned and folded under her hands.
"Stop that," he reprimanded gently. "Please talk to
me. Tell me everything."
She answered blankly: "I do not know everything."
He did not need to answer.

"The prophecy was formed a time after the beginning ofdays. The dark lord was then but a servant of agreater evil. There were those who saw this and triedeven then to take steps against his rising to power.Each one of them failed. And yet even then they didnot give up hope for they could foresee a time when he might fall. That time is upon us."

He sat entranced as the rehearsed words fell softly into the morning light. Slowly she began to recite.

In Earth's darkest hour the three shall rise,
The first shines in virtue's semblence,
The second's Destiny of midnight lies,
And the third will swing the balance.

From thereon and aft' the beginning of the end,
One being with hell's halo shall call,
Be wary of them or Gorthaur will ascend,
And if Hope should fail Middle-earth will fall.

They sat in silence then; The king and the thin girl
with the flaming hair.
Eventually Aragorn spoke, "so what does it mean?"
"I have told you all I know. My part of the task is over and yours begins. There is little I can do to aid you, Aragorn. This is not my battle.
It is for the free peoples of Middle-Earth, and I am not one of them.
"My mother taught me of the prophecy and there is a...an old manuscript - I do not know the accurate translation in the Common Tongue but I read it as Havskiqu almenti yittiru-abeth. It is written in the Black
The closest it comes to in this language is Codex of the Lost Days".
"It was written by," Anawiel broke off and whispered the name, "Morgoth."
But the king barely winced at the name. He looked at the ceiling for the moment, his mouth moving in barely perceptible words of thought.

" Anawiel, it is isn't it?" The young witch noddedhurriedly.

"Anawiel, can you read the Black Tongue?" Again Anawiel nodded. The tone the king was speaking in worried her even more.
"Then I would assume, and correct me if I'm wrong, you would then be able to tell me what the 'Codex' says. Is that right?"

She hesitated. Anawiel could read the Black Speech. She could speak it fluently, though she did not know how. If she told the king she could tell him what the Codex said, she would have to tell him about who she was.

About what she was. Anawiel blinked and felt the sting of tears in her eyes. She tried to say something, but no sound came out.

He would know who I was. What I would have to do. I can't lie to him. He'll kill me. I'll be hung. And then no one would stand a chance against Sauron. No one. I'd be labelled a freak. I would be a freak and an outcast. And
that would make me angry and I cannot be angry. Anger leads to hatred and hatred leads to evil.

"I can't tell you." she whispered, her voice breaking in despair as the tears began to push against her eyes painfully. "I can't."

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