The Daughter of the Moon Volume I

Chapter 27 : Bunch of idiots

Boromir, Gimli and the hobbits were frozen.

After a moment, Aragorn rose to the surface, dragging a very worried Legolas with him.

-Get off my back! We have to find her! She can't die like that!

Aragorn threw him into the boat, furious.

-You're out of your mind! Who put me in charge of such a bunch of fools!

The members of the community said nothing.

Legolas quickly put his clothes back on, keeping his eyes on the surface of the water.

The members of the Community did the same.

Deep down, they all thought the same thing, even though no one wanted to say it out loud.

The young elf had been under water far too long to be alive.

Aragorn looked away from where she had dived.

-We have to move on," he said in a trembling voice.

Legolas thought:

"No, please don't pity her! Mighty valars! Give her back to me! You can't take her like that!"

But it was a waste of time.

She wouldn't come up.

Then, slowly, tears streamed down her cheeks.

His wet blond hair stuck to his back, he shed bitter tears without being able to stop. It seemed to him that the wave of sadness that overwhelmed him was insurmountable and he let himself be carried away by its titanic current. With his vision blurred and his senses numb, he did not see the more than anxious glances of Aragorn, Boromir, Gimli and the hobbits.

It was common knowledge that the elves only cried if they lost someone very dear to them.

Could it be that Legolas loved their young comrade?

They contemplated with sorrow the deep distress of their elven companion.

Suddenly, a huge wave appears behind them.

Elenwë stood on top of it, completely dry and in great shape. Her arms stretched out to the sides, she seemed to master the water.

Her comrades did not see her, turning their backs on her.

In fact, they didn't realise she was there until Elenwë landed on her boat, carried by the wave.

Everyone wondered what had happened.

Elenwë took the dwarf's axe from his back and said:

-Master Gimli, I fear you have misplaced this. She said, handing him her weapon.

-Thank you, Elenwë. he said, looking at her as if she were a ghost.

Legolas stood up when he heard the voice of the sheth.

He dried his eyes with the back of his hand and sighed with relief.

Aragorn and the others looked at her in amazement.

-But.... but... but... but how is that possible? said Aragorn.

-I don't know any more than you do, my friends. But here I am again and you are still far from being rid of me!

Legolas laughed clearly, surely nervous.

-And you're not even wet! He said, really flabbergasted.

-Indeed I am!

She burst out laughing and said to them:

-Get over it! Sorry for scaring you, my friends! Rejoice, I am still here!

They sighed and went on their way.

In the evening, Frodo, with his eyes fixed in front of him, saw two great rocks in the distance: they looked like great stone columns. High, vertical and threatening, they stood on either side of the river.

A narrow gap appeared between them, and the current carried the boats towards it.

-Behold the Argonath, the Pillars of the Kings! cried Aragorn. We shall soon pass them: Keep the boats in line and as far apart as possible! Hold the middle of the bed!

As Frodo was carried away towards them, the great pillars rose like towers to meet him.

They appeared to him in great and vast shapes, threatening in their silence. Then he saw that they were, in fact, carved and shaped: the art and power of long ago had been applied to them, and they still retained, despite the suns and rains of forgotten years, the powerful images that had been given to them.

Two great stone kings stood on great pedestals founded in the depths of the waters: hieratic, they gazed sternly at the north with their veiled eyes and cracked eyebrows.

Their left hand was raised, palm out, in a gesture of warning, the right hand held an axe, on their heads were a crumpled helmet and crown. Silent guardians of a long-gone kingdom, they were still imbued with great power and impressive majesty. Frodo was filled with respectful fear: he became very small and closed his eyes, not daring to look up as the ships approached. Even Boromir lowered his head as the boats passed by at high speed, frail and fleeting like small leaves, under the permanent shadow of Numenor's sentries.

This is how they passed through the dark hole in the Gates.

The fearsome cliffs rose vertically on either side to unknown heights. Far away was the pale sky. The echo of the black and roaring waters echoed, and the wind whistled over them. Frodo, with his head between his knees, heard Sam mumbling and growling before him:

-What a place! What an awful place! If they would only let me get out of this boat, I would never set foot in a pond again, much less a river!

-Fear not! Said a strange voice behind him.

Frodo, turning round, saw Strider, and yet it was not Strider, for the weather-worn Ranger was gone.

At the stern sat Aragorn, son of Arathorn, proud and upright, who skilfully led the ship, his bonnet was thrown back, and his black hair floated in the wind, a light shone in his eyes: a king was returning from exile to his country.

-Do not be afraid! he said. For a long time I have longed to contemplate the images of Isildur and Anarion, my

fathers of the old days. In their shadow, Elessar, the Elfstone son of Arathorn of the House of Valandil son of Isildur, heir of Elendil, has nothing to fear!

Then the light vanished from his eyes, and he spoke for himself :

-If only Gandalf were here! How my heart sighs after Minas Anor and the walls of my own city! But where will I go now?

Elenwë felt her heart clench to the question of the Ranger. What an exceptional man! And what a pity that he was not King of Gondor!

But some premonition revealed to him that this was the destiny of Aragorn, son of Arathorn.