A Light From the Shadows Shall Spring

Eventually, Frodo made his way back to the front of the group to walk with Gandalf. I watched Boromir carefully as Frodo passed him, but Boromir simply kept walking and paid no mind to the hobbit as he went. I felt myself relax somewhat, and Aragorn quickened his pace behind me somewhat and caught up with me in only a few steps.

I looked to him curiously, thinking he had something to say, but he just walked beside me in silence, so I followed suit. After a while though, a thought came to me out of nowhere, and a questioned burned in my mind until I couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Aragorn?" I asked quietly, my brow furrowing as I recalled something he'd told me many weeks ago. He looked to me expectantly, silently letting me know he was listening. I continued, "When we first got to Rivendell, you told me that we had known each other in our childhoods. How is that possible? You can't be a day over 40, but if what Gandalf and Lord Elrond say is true, I've been gone for hundreds of years." I wracked my brain for some sort of explanation, because the obvious one, which would be that Aragorn was indeed hundreds of years old, was just so incredibly far-fetched that I couldn't possibly entertain the idea.

Aragorn smiled slightly and said, "We both arrived in Rivendell at almost the same time, when we were both very young. And although I'm nowhere near the age of 40, it would seem that time passes faster in your world than it does here. I daresay that is the only explanation that comes to mind. Although it does seem that Isildur's curse did not work as he had planned entirely."

His answer about his age startled me, and although I knew it was probably rude to ask, I couldn't stop my self from saying, "If you're nowhere near 40, then how old are you exactly? If it's not incredibly rude of me to ask."

He chuckled, and replied, "Since I know your age, it's only appropriate that you know mine. I am 86."

My eyes widened and I looked at him incredulously. "You can't be. How is that even possible?"

Calmly, he answered, "I, like yourself, am a descendant of the Dúnedain. We age much slower that most."

"Oh." I replied simply. I looked forward and tried to sort through this new information. I had no idea who or what Dúnedain were, but I guessed it was kind of cool that I was aging slower than most people. With any luck I could still look half as good as he did at his age.

It took me a minute, but I finally responded to the second part of his statement from just a moment ago, which was actually probably the more important part. "How did Isildur's curse not work entirely?"

Hesitantly, Aragon replied, "Isildur had intended for you to have remembered all the suffering from your life in another world, and then return here to have to suffer his wrath as well. By that time you would have the memories of hundreds of lifetimes, enough to drive anyone mad. But Isildur was not as powerful as he had thought himself to be. For you neither remember your past lives, nor did Isildur succeed in stopping time in Middle Earth."

The more I heard about this Isildur guy, the less I liked him. "It's too bad he's not still alive. If I ever met him, man, I'd rip him a new one." I said spitefully, my words hissing through the air. When it really came down to it, from what I could tell, it was this Isildur guy's fault I was in this ridiculous position right now.

Aragorn furrowed his brow and looked at me. "I don't understand what you mean, Cecilia." His confusion pulled me out from my anger-filled thoughts and I realized he didn't understand the context of my expression. "Oh, sorry," I began apologetically, "It's just an expression. Not a very nice one. Mostly it just means I'd vehemently let him know how much I don't care for what he's done."

Aragorn nodded in understanding and we walked on, not saying much after that. I realized that although we didn't speak often, I really liked talking to Aragorn. His voice was deep and rich and made me feel safe. He was one of those guys that always came to the rescue, but not because he wanted recognition for it. He did it because it was the right thing to do. That instinct to help people was a part of his DNA. Who he was. It was a very reassuring thing.

As we continued our way up the mountain, the temperature began to drop rapidly, and snow began to fall heavily, until it became a full-fledged blizzard. Everyone was freezing cold and had to fight to take every step. Those of us who had clothing to spare gave it to the hobbits, knowing they would need the extra warmth. The wind whipped past us, and I felt like it was taking my breath away with it. I unintentionally hovered closer to Aragorn, trying not to interfere with his own walking. He didn't seem to mind.

As we trudged through the waist-height snow, the blizzard only began to get worse. Boromir eventually took Merry and Pippin in his arms, and though we offered to Frodo and Sam, both wanted to continue on foot, so Aragorn walked with them and shielded them as best as he could. I was envious of Legolas' elvish stature, for he simply walked on top of the snow, leaving only a slight footprint behind him. The farther up the mountain we got, the more I thought I heard a deep voice shouting, but I couldn't ask anyone; the wind would simply carry my voice away if I tried to speak.

After some time, Legolas shouted, "There is a fell voice on the air." Gandalf replied, "It's Saruman!"

From above, hefty chunks of rock fell off the mountain above us and came crashing down. We all hurried to press ourselves into the side of the mountain, and the rocks narrowly missed us. From behind me Aragorn shouted, "He's trying to bring down the mountain! Gandalf, we must turn back!"

Gandalf countered, "No!" He then turned and attempted to counter the spell with one of his own. The voice fought back, this time ten times as loud. There was a lightning strike above us, and it caused a massive snow drift to plummet downwards. Aragorn, Sam, and Frodo were behind me, and I turned to try to shield Frodo with my body. I felt the hard snow crash down on my back and push both Frodo and me beneath the surface. Aragorn and Sam had been pushed farther away from Frodo, and for a moment, everything was silent and still. After a minute I could hear muffled voices shouting. Looking down, I hurried to clear the snow from between Frodo and myself and asked, "Frodo? Are you alright?"

"Yes. Are you?" He asked, helping me to push some of the snow away from us. "Yeah, I'm ok. Let's see if we can't get out of here, yeah?"

I stretched my hand above me and called for Aragorn. At first, nothing happened. I tried to reach my hand through the snow, but it had covered us completely. I could hear movement above us and suddenly I felt a strong hand grip mine through the snow. I held onto Frodo and soon enough Aragorn had pulled us out.

"Cecilia, Frodo, are you alright?" Aragorn asked, checking us over to make sure there wasn't any serious damage. "Yes, we're ok. Are you?" I replied. All around us, everyone was slowly beginning to surface. Before he had a chance to respond, Boromir had surfaced and shouted, "We must get off the mountain! Make for the Gap of Rohan, and take the west road to my city!"

Aragorn shouted, "The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!" Gimli then interjected by suggesting, "We cannot pass over the mountain. Let us go under it. Let us go through the Mines of Moria."

Gandalf looked as if he was having thoughts he would rather not have, and finally answered, "Let the Ring-bearer decide."

We all looked to Frodo, and it was clear he did not want to be the one to have to make this kind of decision. He looked utterly lost and I pushed the hair out of his face as he looked to me for help. There was no way I could make this decision for him but I offered him some small words of encouragement. "Do what you think is right, Frodo. This is your choice."

He looked around to everyone as Boromir shouted, "We cannot stay here! This will be the death of the Hobbits!" It was obvious Frodo and his small friends were freezing, and Gandalf quickly looked to him for an answer. He looked determinedly at Gandalf and said, "We will go through the mines."

Gandalf's face faltered only slightly as he said, "So be it."

Going down the mountain was considerably easier than going up, and slowly but surely the snow became more bearable. The temperatures increased slightly, and we all began to thaw out a little.

I had somehow ended up walking with Gandalf and though he had been silent for some time, he looked to me and said, "You know Cecilia, your name, and I do mean the one given to you here in Middle Earth, is quite an interesting name." I looked to him for clarification and he continued, "The name your father gave you was Aegliriell. It's elvish, even though neither of your parents were. However, your father at one time was very good friends with Lord Elrond. Translated, it means 'daughter of the mountain.' Your father had been known as the King of the Mountain. Quite fitting don't you think? Not to mention the shade of your hair is as dark as the mountain itself."

I looked away from Gandalf and glanced back up at the mountain, and then down to the hair hanging down past my shoulders. Gandalf was right. My hair was as dark as the very rock that made up the mountain; a shade that could only be seen peeking through the snow every once in a while. I didn't know why, but the thought gave me chills.

I stopped walking for a moment and let the Fellowship pass me. Up ahead I heard Gandalf call out to Frodo. I stayed behind, wondering why I felt so uneasy with what Gandalf had just told me.

Aragorn stopped next to me and asked in a low voice, "What troubles you, my Lady?" I ignored the fact that I didn't really want to be addressed like that and said slowly, "Something Gandalf just said to me. He told me the name my father gave me, Aegliriell, means daughter of the mountain. I don't know why, but that makes me feel scared. Uneasy."

For a slight moment it looked as if there was something Aragorn wanted to say, but he held back and instead said, "Mountains hold much power over men, Cecilia. And that kind of power is something to fear."

I didn't quite understand what that was supposed to mean, but his words resonated with me just as much as Gandalf's had. Though I had learned a lot about this place, and I understood a lot, I still felt as if there was a crucial piece to this puzzle that I was missing, and there were definitely times when I felt like everyone but me knew what it was. This was certainly one of those times.

It was getting dark by the time we reached our destination. Clouds filled the sky, as well as the air, creating a thick fog swirling around us and leaving very little light to see by. Up ahead, Gimli stopped and said in awe, "The walls… of Moria." We all looked to see a towering, solid wall of rock ahead of us, and continued down the path Gandalf led us on.

As we walked, Gimli approached the walls and tapped his axe against it stating, "Dwarf doors are invisible when closed." Gandalf lightly retorted, "Yes, Gimli, their own masters cannot find them if their secrets are forgotten."

The narrow path we walked on was littered with little rocks to trip on. The water to the right was so still, almost as if it wasn't water at all, but a solid mass of dark glass. For the second time tonight, I felt very uneasy. A few members of the Fellowship continued to lightly banter back and forth, although there was a dark undertone to their words.

I walked closely behind Aragorn, who didn't seem to notice my closeness, and I was relieved. There was just something about this place that made me feel nervous, and though I was sure I knew how to fight well enough by now, it wasn't necessarily my first instinct.

Up ahead, Frodo's foot slipped into the water as he was walking, and the ripples looked unnatural in the seemingly solid form. Gandalf quickly approached a place in the wall that had near-invisible carvings in it and began to brush away tree branches and dust, muttering to himself. Gandalf then turned, saying something about moonlight and looking to the sky. The clouds covering the moon moved away too quickly to be of their own accord, and I marveled at seeing Gandalf's abilities for the first time. I couldn't believe no one else was surprised by this.

I heard a chuckle to my left and noticed Aragorn had been watching me. "Do Gandalf's abilities surprise you?" I shook my head quickly. "No, not that. It's just that I've never seen anything like it. It's miraculous." He smiled down at me and I looked past him to see that the small carvings in the stone wall were now glowing and emitting a soft silver light. Again, I was in awe. But this time, so was everyone else.

Gandalf stood back and followed markings with his staff saying, "It reads, 'The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter.'"

Merry immediately voiced his thoughts, which coincidentally mirrored my own. "Well, what do you suppose that means?" To which Gandalf confidently answered, "Oh, it's quite simple. If you're a friend, you speak the password and the doors will open."

He placed his staff upon the door and began speaking loudly in another language, and we all stood, watching. Nothing happened after a pause, and Gandalf tried again. Again, nothing happened and we all looked to each other in confusion. Gandalf was clearly baffled and began muttering to himself again.

Pippin then said, "Well what are you going to do?" Gandalf replied harshly to him, and I walked over and gave him a small, sideways hug and led him away from the wizard, who needed to think.