The Forgotten Princess

Collapsing Dreamworld

"Is she going to be alright?" Aragorn asked as Gandalf came out of the tent.

He had been pacing nearby ever since his daughter had been found beaten on the outskirts of the camp.

Countless times he had interrogated Legolas on what Lessien had said before she had passed out. He and Gimli had been the ones to find her.

Legolas told Aragorn she had said things such as, "They came for me" and "I'm the only one who can win this war" but he thought most of it was induced from shock.

Most of the whereabouts of his daughter's capture and attack were unclear. It was evident that the wounds inflicted were critical. What made matters worse was that the camp was planning on moving soon.

"I am glad to say that the head trauma inflicted will not kill her. A few of her ribs are broken, her windpipe has been crushed a considerable amount, and her wrist that was almost healed, well, it is broken."

Aragorn grimaced.

Her fighting wrist.

She could survive with her right hand but Aragorn knew she needed every possible advantage she could get. Every soldier could during these times of war.

"Can I see her?" Aragorn finally asked, his anxiety to see his daughter showing.

"The drugs they gave her were very strong. I do not know what it is but I am assuming she will not wake up for a while," Gandalf explained cautiously and as Aragorn passed he put out a hand, resting it on his shoulder. "There is one more thing you should know. The Orc, it seems he branded her on her hand. I have never seen it before. It is old. Very old. I do not know what effect it will have on her but it could be an issue."

Aragorn took a moment to consider what the old wizard had said before nodding slightly and then entering the tent.

He walked in on Lessien sleeping, her body looked emaciated and beaten. She seemed to be muttering something, tossing her head around.

Aragorn took a few steps towards her and then took her hand in his but instantly felt a piercing cold run through his veins and into his mind.

Flashes of Arwen and Lessien as a baby ran through his mind. He saw Arwen's Evenstar breaking.

Suddenly, Aragorn staggered back, dazed at the rush, the visions now gone.

Recovering slowly, he stepped forward again but more cautiously this time. He took hold of Lessien's hand by cupping the back of her palm and turning it over. Her palm was blackened, the black spreading over her skin and receding onto her fingers. He observed that her veins around the hand ran with pitch black blood.

This wasn't what troubled him most, though.

It was the chalky white mark in the center of her hand. It was a four-sided diamond with a simple dot in the middle. This was what unnerved him most.

Yes, he didn't know what it meant, but it was obviously old and evil. It was powerful. It had given him visions.

He slowly curled Lessien's fingers back closed so he didn't have to look at it anymore.

Aragorn was worried for his daughter. Was that brand pushing poison through her veins? Could it be fatal? He dare not think of it that way.

He sat on a stool and took her hand again, pressing it softly, bowing his head and bringing it to his lips. Being a warrior was easier than this fatherhood thing that he was still figuring out, even after all of these years.