From the Other Side by Ireth_Telrunya
“What?” I cried. “What’s wrong?”
Elrond’s face was the hue of sour milk; he was gaping at me with his mouth hanging open. He made a weird gurgling noise before recovering his voice enough to croak, “Your eyes!”
“What about them?” I asked fearfully.
“Look!” Elrond pushed his goblet of water toward me. I stared down into the rippling liquid, focusing intently on my reflection. I soon realized why the elf had cried out; my eyes, which moments before had been the color of the sky at twilight, were now a deep, blood red.
“No!” I screamed. “No! This can’t be happening!” Leaping to my feet, I dashed toward the door, blinded by hot tears of disbelief and anguish. Denethor stood up as well, calling after me.
“Isilden!” he cried. “Come back!”
I made myself deaf to the StewardÂ’s frantic calls. Shocked whispers from the other Gondorians drifted toward me as I hurtled blindly between tables and through the double doors.
“Look at him…”
“His eyes…”
“What happened?”
“No wonder Lord Elrond shouted…”
Bursting out into the sunlight, I didnÂ’t stop running until I reached the courtyard. Then I crumpled, sobbing and gasping, beneath the White Tree. I squeezed my eyes shut to stem my tears, to little avail. Leaning against the TreeÂ’s smooth, pale bark, I tried to quell my bodyÂ’s incessant tremors, and finally succeeded.
Something small and soft brushed my cheek. I opened one eye and saw a delicate, milk-hued petal resting next to my nose. Gently I picked it up between thumb and forefinger and stared at it in silence.
Soon another petal landed on my head, followed by another and another. It was as if the Tree was weeping for me, shedding its petals instead of tears.
Automatically I reached up to rub the TreeÂ’s ivory bark, to run my fingers tenderly over the satiny surface, and suddenly felt disgusted with myself. What right did I have to contact something so pure and untainted? I felt as if I were contaminating the Tree merely by touching it. I jerked my hand away in shame.
Suddenly faint footsteps reached my ears, coupled with voices. I recognized their owners as Elrond, Gandalf and Denethor. I stared desperately around me for a place to hide; I didnÂ’t want to have to face anyone.
I remembered seeing that the rock beneath the courtyard was very roughly hewn, full of ledges and niches. I darted to the edge, bending down to look. There were many suitable cracks and ridges for me to use as hand- and footholds.
Swinging myself over the edge, I ducked out of sight just in time; my three pursuers entered the courtyard in a matter of moments. Not daring to look down, clinging grimly to the rough stone, I held my breath and listened.
“Where is he?” Elrond’s voice asked. “I saw him run this way. He can’t have gotten past us.”
“If you hadn’t shouted, Lord Elrond,” Gandalf’s voice replied, “he wouldn’t have run off in the first place.”
“Well, what would you have done?” Elrond retorted sharply. “One minute his eyes were blue as twilight, and the next they were like blood! That isn’t something one sees every day, now, is it?”
“No,” Gandalf’s voice said quietly, “but—”
“Look,” Denethor’s voice interrupted. “The Tree – its flowers are wilting. There are petals all over the grass.”
I shifted one hand and reached up to my head. There were still a few petals in my hair. Smiling to myself, I sighed at GandalfÂ’s words.
“He’s not here. If he doesn’t want to be found, then let’s not trouble him. Come on.”
I waited until the three friendsÂ’ footsteps had faded before I climbed up onto the mercifully solid courtyard floor. Getting carefully to my feet, I approached the White Tree a second time, but refrained from touching it now.
I plucked the petals gently from my hair and cast them onto the grass beside the Tree. Many more petals had fallen in my absence, I noticed. Sighing again, I left the courtyard in an uneasy silence.
Later on that day, I lay alone on my bed in a darkened chamber. The curtain was drawn over the window, blocking out noonday sunlight. I hadnÂ’t bothered to eat any dinner, so my stomach grumbled in complaint.
A knock on the door jolted me from my thoughts as a voice called from outside, “Isilden? May I come in?”
I sat up, staring dully into the blackness. “Who is it?”
“It’s Lord Elrond,” the voice replied. “I want to speak with you.”
Heaving a sigh, I stood and started toward the door. “Come in, sire.”
The door creaked open, and a ray of sunlight flowed into the room. Elrond was silhouetted in the doorway, one hand resting on the latch, the other holding a plate of food. The tempting smells of warm bread and roast pork floated seductively into my nostrils, and my mouth began to water.
“I didn’t see you at dinner, so I thought you might be hungry,” the elf told me, taking a few steps forward into the room. He set the tray carefully down on my bedside table as he spoke.
“I am,” I replied, smiling. “Thank you.”
Elrond nodded, striding over to the window and reaching for the curtain. I hurried forward, saying, “Sire, I’d prefer if you didn’t, please…”
The elf hesitated, his hand outstretched; then he nodded understandingly and let his arm fall to his side. “All right.”
“Why don’t you sit down?” I invited, gesturing to my bed.
Elrond complied, sitting down beside me and speaking solemnly. “I know why your eyes were hurting you so badly, Isilden.”
“You do?” I cried. “Why is it?”
“Do you remember what Saruman said to you at Orthanc?” the elf asked me.
“Before or after he was pushed out the window?”
“After that… right before he died.”
I thought, letting my mind drift into the past. The Wizard’s words chilled me as I replayed them in my head: “I know what you do not. The change was not halted, only delayed… it has already begun again. Before this is finished, it will be complete. The truth is in the eye of the beholder…”
“The truth is in the eye of the beholder?” I repeated aloud, frowning.
Elrond nodded. “That was one of the first things he took – your eyes.”
“He cursed me,” I murmured, as realization dawned. “That day… he put a spell on me.”
Elrond shook his head. “He didn’t curse you that day. It began long before that, on the day you became…” He hesitated, reluctant to finish the sentence.
“Just say it,” I muttered bitterly. “When I became an orc.”
“But not quite,” the elf reminded me calmly. “You weren’t fully bent to his will.” He paused, frowning. “Your stomach sounds like a hobbit snoring. Eat.”
I obliged; selecting a bun from the plate and cutting it in half with a knife that Elrond handed me, I spread the warm roll with pale yellow butter and took a bite. Elrond continued to speak as I ate.
“You told me that, while you were leaving Orthanc with the orcs, you found it hard to hear and breathe for a moment. Later on, you found that you neither understood Elvish, nor were able to converse in it, after speaking and comprehending it very well at Helm’s Deep.”
I swallowed my mouthful, saying, “How did you know?”
“Legolas told me,” the elf replied calmly. “Yesterday you took the oath of fealty to Lord Denethor, and it was then that your eyes first began to irritate you. After my attempt to heal you, I saw your eyes briefly flash with red. It was a warning of what would soon come, I know that now.
“Then there was the… incident today at breakfast. I’m very sorry about what happened, and I wish I could have done more. If I had held on for just a bit longer, I might have…” He broke off, and I saw tears shining in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“It wasn’t your fault,” I said softly, brushing crumbs from my lip. “It’s no-one’s fault but his.” I spat out the last word.
“Saruman,” Elrond nodded gravely. “Yes. He’s the cause of this.”
I suddenly grew fearful. “Do you think this will continue?”
“I should think,” Elrond said quietly, “that the answer is yes.”
I stared at him, temporarily dumbstruck with horror. When I found my voice at last I whispered, “Can you help me?”
Elrond looked crestfallen. “No. I can’t, nor can anyone else.”
“So there’s no hope?”
“I didn’t say that,” Elrond told me. “I merely said that I cannot help you. But you must have absolute faith in yourself if you want this to end.”
“Of course I want this to end!” I cried, leaping to my feet indignantly. “You can’t possibly think I enjoy this! How would you feel?”
“You didn’t let me finish,” the elf said calmly. “Sit down and I’ll explain.”
I sighed, sinking back down onto my bed. “Go on.”
“Think about the day you were captured,” Elrond ordered me. “What stopped the transformation from being completed? What were you thinking while it happened?”
That was easy. “I was thinking about Elennar – my little sister.”
Elrond nodded pensively. “And do you believe this could have saved you?”
“It could have,” I replied. “Yes, I think it did.” Then a thought occurred to me, and I added, “And the last time my eyes hurt, before they changed, the pain went away when I thought of her.”
“Then that’s what you must do,” the elf said matter-of-factly. “The next time you feel that Saruman is trying to reclaim you, concentrate on your sister as you did before. You must not let him take you. Don’t let him destroy everything you’ve accomplished.”
I nodded, but suddenly began gasping for air. My heart had sped up its pace, thumping much harder and faster than it normally did. I couldnÂ’t breathe; I felt as if I had just run a mile in a matter of seconds.
“Help!” I choked, clutching frantically at my chest. “Sire, help me! He’s back!”
