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Chapter 16 - Many Traps
Aragorn paced back and forth several times, his eyes
fixed on the ground. Tracking Orcs was generally an easy task because the
creatures were large, clumsy, and heavy. This time was no exception. The
difficult part was finding a human print. With a heavy sigh, Aragorn moved
back to where the other Rangers were waiting.
The elves were both leaning against the trunk of a tree, talking quietly
with each other. They had allowed Aragorn to be the tracker for the group
because even though they possessed the superior skill, his was far above
any ordinary hunter and even above the skills of other Rangers. It was
something the man could do without tiring himself too much, and the twins
had every confidence in his abilities. Besides, Elrohir thought as Aragorn
slowly made his way back. The more we allow him to do now, the more likely
we can convince him to stay behind during the fight.
Back at their campsite, the group had spent two additional hours resting
and planning. It had been decided that the scattered Orcs had likely gone
southeast, toward the mountains, and the tracks around the campsite had
confirmed it. Aragorn had been assigned to read the trail while Rayford
and Amaleg followed behind, guarding against a surprise rear attack. The
superior eyesight and hearing of the Elves was needed in front to make
sure the group didn’t find themselves too close to the Orcs until they
were ready. Lourin was to scout a very short distance ahead to help look
for new trails as well as Orc rearguards.
“The tracks say much,” Aragorn finally said wearily. “I can count five
different prints from the Orcs, which is only a few more then we
originally thought. They didn’t pass through here long ago, perhaps a few
hours. I believe we should be able to overtake them easily enough because
they seem to be in no rush.”
“What of Felnorvard?” Elladan asked.
Aragorn shook his head. “That’s what puzzles me. I can find none here that
belong to him, but it is possible that he merely did an excellent job of
covering his tracks.”
“Even with all the Orcs with him?”
Aragorn shrugged. “There were plenty of his prints around our site.
Perhaps he knew it’s impossible to cover so many Orc tracks, but... ” He
shrugged again.
“Perhaps he traveled ahead to some cave in the mountains, and the Orcs
trampled his prints,” Elrohir offered.
“We could double back to the camp and see if we missed one of his side
trails, but I still think this is the correct path,” Aragorn said as he
turned to Elladan. “I would suggest that we keep moving so we don’t run
out of day light.”
“I agree,” he said. “There is little we can do about the tracks at camp
now, and we can make easy work of five Orcs.”
Elrohir stood and watched Aragorn take one last look at the trail before
they set out. The elf could see that he was growing tired again but was
trying to hide it. The man’s hand was resting heavily on the hilt of his
small sword and the other on the handle of his knife. Between the four
Rangers, they had been able to supply Aragorn with a small, lightweight
sword and two daggers.
He would be able to defend himself at least, should the need arise,
Elrohir thought as he continued to watch his human brother. But they will
do him little good if he dies of exhaustion first. Elrohir caught the eye
of his twin and silently spoke his concerns.
Elladan looked at Aragorn and nodded. Then he turned to the other Rangers
and said, “Perhaps we should rest a while before continuing. We may not
get another chance.”
Aragorn was not fooled. “After only an hour’s travel? No, we must press
on.”
“Estel,” Elrohir began.
“I’m tired, yes, but I feel fine.” Aragorn thought for a moment. “Why
don’t we just proceed at a slower pace,” he compromised.
Elladan sighed and narrowed his eyes, a clear sign that he disapproved,
but Aragorn stood his ground.
“Fine,” he said finally. “But a much slower pace, Estel. It will do none
of us any good if we have to carry you!”
Aragorn tried to break through the elves’ serious expression with a large
grin of thanks. “Of course, brothers!” But they merely rolled their eyes
and groaned.
----------
After another hour of very slow tracking, Aragorn was beginning to wish
they had stopped for a break. His old wounds, which his brothers had
masterfully tended, were starting to protest, and what little activity he
had done, left him terribly out of breath. His body felt as if he hadn’t
slept in days although he knew he’d feel much better after a short break.
However, right now, he knew he could not go on.
“Elladan,” he said, taking a few steps over toward the elf. “I am afraid
that...” But he was cut off as Lourin came rushing through the trees. The
desire to hear what the young Ranger had found and the resulting small
surge of adrenaline caused him to completely forget about his own
discomfort. “It can wait,” Aragorn said quickly as the elf turned to him.
“What did you find, Lourin?”
As the younger man struggled to catch his breath, he said, “The Orcs have
stopped and made camp no more than ten minutes ahead. They were
uncharacteristically quiet, and I was nearly upon them before I spotted
them through the trees. As quickly and quietly as I could, I pulled back,
and thankfully I was not detected.”
“Indeed. You did the right thing. We should wait for Amaleg and Rayford to
catch up with us before we plan any further,” Elladan said as he set his
pack on the ground.
After ten minutes of waiting, Aragorn felt his strength slowly returning,
and he was glad for the break. Rayford and Amaleg had returned, and now
Elladan was ready to develop their plan of attack. They had surprise and
superior skill, all of which Elladan was planning to use in their favor.
“What can you tell us about the area surrounding the Orcs? Is there
anything we can use to our advantage?” Elrohir asked.
Much to Aragorn’s pleasure, they had all decided to sit on the ground so
they could use the forest floor as a drawing board if necessary. Lourin
told them how there was a thick line of trees surrounding the clearing on
two sides while there was a large fifteen foot rock wall on the third.
“I could not see what was on the fourth side very clearly. However, I
think there may be a small cliff because I could see a height difference
in the trees. It would be perhaps a ten foot drop, but I really have no
way of knowing for sure,” Lourin said as he finished drawing a rough
sketch in the dirt of what he saw of the site.
Elladan was very quiet for a while, his eyes studying the drawing on the
ground. The other Rangers sat quietly as well, waiting for the elf to make
his choice. It was always better to have only one person making the battle
decisions. Too many leaders lead to too much wasted time in arguments.
They all trusted Elladan with their lives, so there was no problem
accepting his decisions. However, they also had no qualms about making
suggestions, but the final say was left to him.
“We can use the environment to our advantage,” Elladan began. “Keeping the
Orcs backed up against the wall will be important, along with our surprise
attack. We should have no trouble with the odds so favorable. Estel, you
must remain hidden within the trees in case any of the creatures escape
us.”
Aragorn frowned. He would try one last time to persuade his brothers to
allow him to join the fight. “What if you run into trouble? I will not
stand by idle should you need me!”
It was Elrohir who quietly responded. They had been expecting Aragorn’s
protest and had already discussed their response. “You know as well as I,
Estel, that you will serve us better as a sentry.” Aragorn opened his
mouth to argue, but Elrohir cut him off. “However, if anything were to
happen, I’ll whistle. You’ll be able to hear me above any noise from the
fight.”
Aragorn responded with a disapproving growl but finally nodded his head,
admitting defeat. Elrohir only smiles and offered his hand to Aragorn,
pulling him to his feet.
The group needed to move as close as possible without being noticed, and
with the two elves along, the distance would need to be even greater. Orcs
had very keen senses when it came to Elves, and they did not want them
spooked. Just as the twins could begin to feel the Orc’s presence, they
found an area where the trees were not as dense and signaled the group to
stop.
As they put their supplies at the base of a large tree where Aragorn would
wait, Elladan said, “Estel, be careful. I can sense evil in the area, and
I fear that it is not entirely from the Orcs ahead of us.”
Aragorn nodded. “I wish I was coming with you,” he said plainly.
“I know, but you know that you’re far too weak. For your own safety, you
must stay here,” Elladan said as he quietly drew his sword. “We’ll be back
soon.” He placed his hand on Aragorn’s shoulder, and after a reassuring
squeeze, he turned and disappeared into the trees.
Even without looking back, Elladan knew that Aragorn was still upset, but
he could hardly blame the man. Had their positions been reversed, Elladan
knew he would have reacted the same way, wanting to join in the action. He
also knew that Aragorn realized he was right and would not enter the fight
unless called.
Elladan quickly cleared his mind because he needed all of his senses sharp
if he wanted to surprise the Orcs. As the group soundlessly crept forward,
Lourin motioned that their target was just ahead and slightly to the
right. Elladan nodded and signaled the Rangers to slightly spread out.
They would need to create a ring around the enemy if they wanted to keep
them confined. Just as his Elven sight allowed him to see the Orcs, he
raised his hand, signaling them to halt. Now they would need extra
stealth.
Elladan scanned the line to see if everyone was in place. Next to him was
Lourin, followed by Amaleg, and furthest away was Rayford and Elrohir.
Elladan smiled slightly as he remembered the conversation he had with
Rayford just before they set out earlier that day. The young man had come
to him concerned about his fighting abilities. His inexperience with
organized attacks was making him slightly apprehensive, and Elladan
remembered smiling at the young man’s honesty. He had told him that he
felt confident in his abilities, but if it made him feel better, he could
fight beside either him or his brother.
After receiving a nod from everyone, Elladan motioned them forward. They
needed to move slowly at first and then charge as soon as they broke free
of the trees. Timing was important, but Elladan was confident they would
be able to defeat five Orcs and hopefully, one man.
Their only disadvantage was that they had to leave their bows with
Aragorn. Lourin’s was damaged during the rescue, and Elrohir and Amaleg
were more skilled with their swords and long knives. Elladan considered
bringing his bow, however it would be very difficult to secure a clear
shot through the dense trees.
With weapons drawn, the group of Rangers crept forward until they could
all plainly see the five Orcs. A few were casually lying on the ground
while the rest were ripping apart some type of meat and stuffing it into
their mouths.
Elladan could feel the eyes of his companions watching him, waiting for
him to make the first move. He took one last deep breath, tightened his
grip on his sword, and broke into a run. He could see figures moving
beside him and knew the others were following. After a few paces and at a
full sprint, they broke through the trees.
The first creature didn’t even have a chance to turn and see his attacker,
as an elven blade quickly severed its head. Elladan quickly brought his
blade around in time to see the other Orcs already unsheathing their
weapons. A quick glance at the other engaging Rangers told him that these
Orcs were slightly more skilled than normal. But Elrohir had just raised
his sword for the killing blow, and the other men were quickly gaining the
upper hand with their own enemies.
Seeing that only two of them remained alive, the Orcs made a last minute
desperate attempt to escape. Knowing that they couldn’t make it past the
Rangers and into the trees, they abandoned their personal battles and
bolted for the cliff.
The sudden change of tactics caught the Rangers slightly off guard, and it
wasn’t until the Orcs disappeared over the side that Elladan and Elrohir
cried out together. “Follow them! We can not allow them to scatter again!”
The group reached the edge in time to see the Orcs stopping just before
reaching the edge of the trees. They stood there, staring back at the
Rangers and waited to see if they would follow.
Looking down, Elladan saw that it was no more then a ten foot drop, and
only hesitating a moment, he leapt over the side. He landed lightly beside
his brother, and the three men were only a split second behind. They all
brought their swords into an attack stance and began their advance.
Strangely enough, the two Orcs had turned and were standing their ground.
Both elves stopped dead in their tracks as they heard the sound of feet
shuffling behind them. Quickly whirling around, they could hardly contain
their surprise when they saw Orcs filing out of a small cave in the rock
cliff.
Nearly two dozen of them poured out of the opening and stood, with weapons
drawn, ready to advance on the Rangers. Elladan swore softly as he
realized he’d lead them into a trap.
----------
Felnorvard let out a heavy sigh. He had taken a huge risk in not scouting
out the site himself, but there hadn’t been time. The Rangers had left
earlier then expected, and it had stretched his abilities to organize and
instruct his Orcs so quickly. He’d spent nearly an hour the previous night
questioning them, trying to find out everything he could about the
surrounding area. He learned very little from the stupid creatures, but
he’d heard something in their ramblings that caught his attention.
Felnorvard shuddered as he thought about how his entire trap had relied on
the memory of Orcs.
It had been near chaos organizing fifteen Orcs to circle far enough around
the Rangers as to not catch the attention of the elves. Then he had
trusted them to scatter so they didn’t leave a noticeable trail and
reassemble at the cave. It had been a huge risk, but it had worked. The
elves had taken the bait.
Felnorvard slowly pulled away from the edge of the cliff where he’d been
watching the Orcs and Rangers beginning to fight. He doubted his Orcs
could win against the skilled warriors, but he hoped it would give him
enough time to accomplish his other goal.
He had seen where the Rangers had broken through the trees, and he figured
that Aragorn would not be far away, waiting. First, however, Felnorvard
had to make his way back to where he’d left some of his Orcs before he
could recapture the troublesome man. He would have to move quickly but
still make sure that Aragorn did not hear him coming. It could prove
difficult.
After sprinting for a few minutes, Felnorvard saw the two Orcs that he’d
left behind. They were the strongest and relatively quietest of the group.
It was time for the second part of his plan.
Picking up a large club, Felnorvard motioned the Orcs to follow him. All
they would need to do was circle around behind Aragorn and take him by
surprise. The man smiled as he thought, The tables will be turned. You are
not the only one who can devise a surprise attack. Slowly, they made their
way through the woods.
After a short distance, Felnorvard stopped. He could just barely make out
Aragorn’s form through the trees. It was time to strike.
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| Chapter 17 - Many
Strengths Aragorn tilted his head to one side and
closed his eyes, allowing the wind to blow through his long hair. After
watching his brothers and the other Rangers disappear into the shadows of
the trees, he had decided that the only thing he could do was wait.
Aragorn knew that three Rangers, two Elves, and a young man could more
than handle five Orcs and if their luck held, one man. There was no need
to sit around and worry.
The wind was steadily growing stronger, and the forest around him rustled
and creaked against it. Looking up through the trees, Aragorn could just
see large, lazy white clouds racing across the sky. Unfortunately, the
wind was likely to stay strong into the night, which would make for a very
chilly evening and little sleep because of the noise.
He got up and slowly stretched his sore leg muscles. His, now very old,
wound was healing nicely, but it still wanted to cause him trouble. He was
glad to find, however, that his strength was slowly returning and
hopefully, when the group returned, he would be able to help them set up
camp for the evening. He really didn’t like feeling so useless and
burdensome and was anxious to begin pulling his own weight.
Aragorn shifted impatiently. He held his small sword loosely in his right
hand, ready should he need it. I am only fooling myself, Aragorn thought.
I won’t be needed. He stared down at the blade, and then with a heavy sigh
he placed it back in its holder around his waist. He would force himself
to wait patiently for them to return.
He was about to look back up at the clouds when he suddenly stopped,
tensing. Something didn’t feel right. It was the kind of feeling someone
got when they were being watched, and he quickly focused his attention
toward the Orc camp. He strained his eyes to catch any movement in the
dense undergrowth, but the strong wind caused everything to sway and bend.
A sound. Aragorn froze, holding his breath and listening intently for any
other sign of the where his unseen enemy was hiding. Then he heard it; the
whistling sound an object made as it flew through the air.
Relying on instinct, Aragorn quickly spun to his right, and had he been an
Elf, he would have completely cleared it. However, his human blood
betrayed him. As he whirled around, he felt the sting of a large object as
it grazed his left temple and ricocheted off into the brush.
Even though it was not a direct hit, the contact caused Aragorn’s vision
to blur, and he staggered, falling on one knee. His hands flew to his
sword as he struggled to regain his footing.
Before he could draw his blade, however, his arms were captured and pulled
behind him. Aragorn groaned softy as calloused hands pulled him to his
feet; without even seeing his attackers, he knew they were Orcs. Somehow,
a few must have escaped his brothers’ watch.
They were dragging him somewhere, and Aragorn knew he should be
struggling. The Orcs hadn’t taken the time to bind his hands, and his mind
screamed at him to pull out his daggers and fight before it was too late.
But his body would not obey. The world was spinning violently, and Aragorn
had to shut his eyes to keep from being sick.
He tried to keep his head still as he waited for the world to return to
normal. His hands, however, were slowly attempting to make their way to
his belt where his daggers still hung.
As the seconds ticked by, Aragorn opened his eyes, and his vision cleared.
Knowing this may be his only opportunity, he suddenly sprang to life,
pulling his blade from his waistline. This, of course, caught the Orcs
completely by surprise. Their cry of alarm was cut off as the Ranger’s
weapon buried itself deep in one of the creature’s chest.
As it fell lifelessly to the forest floor, Aragorn pulled his dagger free
and drew his sword, ready to dispose of his other adversary. But he was
surprised to see the second Orc taking a step back and focus his attention
just over Aragorn’s shoulder. The man’s lips formed a narrow line in
barely concealed frustration as he realized they were surrounding him
again.
Not taking his eyes off the Orc and keeping his weapon level, Aragorn took
several steps to his side. It was better to have both his attackers in
sight then have one lurking behind. Slowly, he turned his head to see his
new opponent.
Aragorn kept his face expressionless as his mind cried out in surprise.
Felnorvard was not supposed to be there. The other Rangers were supposed
to be engaging him, and that was the very reason Aragorn had been forced
to stay behind in the first place.
He blinked hard, clearing away the last few dark spots that danced in
front of his vision. He half hoped that Felnorvard would disappear as
well, but unfortunately, the other man was still there.
“Come now, Aragorn,” he said as he pulled his sword from its holder. “You
didn’t think I would give you up so easily!”
“I tire of your games, Felnorvard,” Aragorn warned. Deciding the Orc was
no longer a serious threat, he slowly rotated his stance, allowing him to
completely face the other man.
“Lately, I’ve observed many things tire you,” he said as he began to
advance. “This fight is folly. Surrender to me quietly, and you have my
word that no harm shall come to you for the remainder of the journey.”
Despite the growing severity of the situation, Aragorn laughed. “Your word
means nothing to me! I would rather die here then suffer the torments of
Barad-dûr and the see the ruin of Middle-Earth.”
“Very well,” Felnorvard sneered.
Aragorn knew the formalities were over. Felnorvard no longer cared if he
took the Ranger alive. A dead body would be the next best thing, and this
suddenly made the man much more dangerous.
As Felnorvard slowly stalked forward, Aragorn noticed the forgotten Orc
shifting uncomfortably near a large tree, its weapon hanging loosely at
its side. At least I won’t have to concern myself with him. He won’t join
the fight unless called by his master, Aragorn concluded. However, he
could not lie to himself; he couldn’t fight Felnorvard alone. If he was at
full strength, it wouldn’t be a problem, but now…
The wind whipped through the trees, causing the Ranger’s hair to blow in
his face. He knew he should call for his brothers’ aid, but would they be
able to hear it? Pushing aside his pride, Aragorn let out a shrill
whistle, the kind many Elves used when calling for assistance.
“They are busy with their own troubles,” Felnorvard said, recognizing
Aragorn’s call. “No one will be returning for you any time soon.”
----------
Elrohir raised his sword, blocking an Orc’s blade, and easily twisting to
his right, the elf drove his weapon into the back of the creature. Taking
a deep breath, he surveyed the scene before him. The Orcs had begun their
attack only minutes ago, but already, the Rangers were gaining the upper
hand.
The men were holding their own as they were forced to block strike after
strike. With so many attackers, a killing blow was difficult; the men were
too busy defending themselves. A few Orc corpses however, did lie around
the Rangers, showing some progress.
Elrohir grinned as he spied his brother a few paces away, severing the
head of another attacker. This battle would be short lived if they kept at
their pace. They too had to defend themselves against far more enemies,
but superior strength and reflexes gave them the advantage. There were
still more than enough opponents to keep everyone busy.
His attention was quickly drawn back to the battle as he was forced to
block the low swing of an Orc blade. Easily deflecting it, the elf danced
a few steps back. He was about to swing to his right when something caught
his eye. A quick glance told him that one of the Orcs had climbed back up
the small cliff.
Knowing that he couldn’t allow himself to become distracted, Elrohir
blocked another blow and countered with his own swing at the creature’s
upper thigh. It fell to the ground injured, but Elrohir was already
blocking another attacker’s blade. There were just too many of them for a
proper offense.
It was Elladan’s cry of warning a moment later that caused Elrohir to look
up again. He groaned as he saw a lone Orc standing atop the cliff. It was
holding a crude bow and aiming into the crowd.
A bow was a clumsy weapon to use in close combat. That was why the elves
had specifically left theirs behind. Perhaps it would have been a good
idea to bring at least one of them, Elrohir thought, slightly sarcastic.
The other Orcs were pulling back in a surprising display of strategy and
discipline, forming two separate circles around the Rangers, and Elladan
and Elrohir found themselves cut off from the other three men. They could
hear them still fighting, trying to force their way back into the group,
but there were too many Orcs between them.
The Orcs that surrounded the elves continued to block any strike that was
tried against them but strangely enough, did not go on the offensive. They
seemed content to merely wait.
Above the growls and taunts from the Orcs, Elrohir caught the faint
whistle of an arrow flying through the air. Relying on instincts, he sank
to his knees and rolled to the side. The arrow shaft flew through the ends
of his dark hair, narrowly missing him. It landed in the dirt a few paces
behind him.
The two elves exchanged glances. This was a new threat that neither of
them had anticipated, and now they were being targeted.
Another arrow shot out, this time flying straight toward Elladan. He
brought his sword around swiftly, deflecting it as he dodged to the left.
Elladan growled something inaudible as he turned back to his brother.
“Any suggestions, Elrohir?” Elladan asked as he struck an Orc that came a
little too close.
“Well,” he began. “Perhaps...” But Elrohir was cut off as he was forced to
dodge yet another arrow.
It was then the Orcs got tired of waiting, and the circle began to close
in. The elves could only hope that the men were still holding against
their own adversaries, as they engaged the enemy once again. Elrohir heard
an arrow sail by somewhere near him, but he could not waste any of his
attention. The Orcs were fighting with a renewed passion, and Elrohir was
constantly finding himself blocking first in front then behind. He was
hard pressed to get a hit in, himself.
Elrohir was able to land two more killing blows while weaving in and out
of Orc blades and whistling arrows. There were fewer and fewer enemies to
deal with, and Elrohir knew it would be over soon.
That was when Elrohir heard the unmistakable thud of an arrow hitting bare
flesh accompanied by a soft cry. Sending another Orc to the ground, the
elf turned and gasped as he saw Elladan stagger, a black arrow shaft
protruding from his upper arm. Elrohir struggled to reach his brother,
ready to defend him while he gathered his senses.
Elrohir quickly went over their options. The archer would have to be dealt
with or else they would be shot down one by one. He remembered his
emergence dagger was still sheathed in his boot and knew Elladan had one
as well. It would be a long throw, and he would only have two chances.
Knowing that he had no other choice, he kicked the Orc closest to him to
the ground and pulled the blade from his boot. “Brother, watch my back.”
Elladan knew what his brother had in mind and nodded, replying through
gritted teeth. “I will try.” He brought his sword around and connected
with the side of an Orc. Kicking the creature aside, he added, “Be swift.
I don’t think you’ll get a second throw.”
Elrohir danced aside as another arrow flew toward his head. Thankfully the
Orc was a poor shot. The elf eyed the creature, mentally determining the
distance and speed needed. Just as he released his weapon, a flash of
movement out of the corner of his eye forced him to spring to the side to
avoid being hit. With only one good arm, Elladan had not been able to keep
an Orc from slipping by. Swinging his sword, he quickly relieved the
creature of its head.
Looking back atop the cliff, Elrohir swore under his breath as he saw the
archer. It was still alive, though now on his knees with the elf’s dagger
stuck in its left thigh. He would have to try again.
“Your dagger, Elladan,” he said as he dropped to the ground next to his
twin. Without disturbing Elladan’s swing, he pulled the blade from his
brother’s boot and in one fluent motion, threw it, hitting his mark. The
Orc archer fell with an elven blade buried in its throat. Smiling, Elrohir
turned back to help his injured brother.
The Orc ranks were quickly thinning out, allowing the Rangers to cause
greater damage. Now the advantage was shifted from the Orcs’ numbers to
their skill. Finally after another ten minutes, the Orcs began to panic.
Orcs were confident and cocky in larger numbers, but generally tended to
fall apart when the tables turned. This was no different, and seeing their
comrades dead, they began to scatter. Amaleg and Rayford followed two Orcs
that fled into the trees while Elrohir dispatched the last creature in the
clearing.
After seeing that the remaining Orcs were being taken care of, Elladan
sank to his knees and gripped his arm tightly. Adrenaline had done an
excellent job of covering the pain, but it was also quick to wear off.
However, he was more concerned with what he’d heard during the fight. “We
must get back to Estel,” he said as his twin approached. “Did you hear his
whistle?”
“No, I heard nothing! Estel is fine; it’s you I worry about,” Elrohir said
as he knelt down to take a better look at Elladan’s injured arm.
“I swear I heard him call for aid!”
Elrohir sighed as he looked around the clearing. “At least let me tend to
you while we wait for Amaleg and Rayford to return. We can do nothing
until then. Lourin, do you have any spare bandages with you?”
“Yes, a few, though most of my supplies were left with Aragorn,” Lourin
said as he knelt beside the wounded elf. He dug through the small pack on
his belt and pulled out several pieces of white cloth, setting them at his
companion’s feet.
Elrohir took his knife and carefully cut away the fabric surrounding his
brother’s wound. Thankfully, the arrow had completely missed the bone, and
its tip was just piercing through the opposite side of the arm. Treatment
would be much easier since he didn’t have to worry about the shaft
breaking and loosing the arrowhead in the arm.
“Hold still,” Elrohir said. He firmly gripped the wood just above the skin
and quickly snapping it, causing Elladan to groan softly. Placing the
broken piece aside, he pressed one of the bandages over he aggravated
wound which was beginning to bleed and instructed his brother to hold it
in place. Then, he moved to his back, ready to pull the arrow the rest of
the way out.
“No, let it be,” Elladan said, pulling his brother’s hand away. They
didn’t have time for the rest of the procedure. The wound would require
cleaning and heavy bandaging if the arrow was removed, but with the other
two Rangers returning, it would be safe enough to leave it until they
found Aragorn. “We must leave. Now.”
Elrohir helped him to his feet and did not argue. He trusted his brother’s
instincts, which had saved them on more then one occasion, so he followed
closely behind Elladan as he made his way to the base of the cliff.
----------
Aragorn took a step backward and adjusted his grip on his sword.
Felnorvard was toying with him, pacing back and forth and never coming
close enough for their blades to connect, but he didn’t care. The longer
the man waited, the more likely help would arrive.
Normally, Aragorn would have had no problem in a sword fight, even if he
was outnumbered. He’d been trained by elves who had several thousand years
of practice perfecting their techniques, and he personally had seventy
years of practical experience behind him. Of course, he hadn’t always been
in good physical condition during previous encounters, but he’d never
faced something like this. Now, he would have to come up with a way to
conserve his depleting strength and still come out the victor.
Thankfully, Aragorn’s attention never wavered, and he was ready when
Felnorvard finally lunged forward, his sword aiming at Aragorn’s chest. It
was an easy block that didn’t require too much energy, though he doubted
it would last. The man had already stated his knowledge of Aragorn’s
weakness, and it wouldn’t take him long to exploit it.
Aragorn had to make a choice. Defense or offense? He could let Felnorvard
do all of the work on offense, but he had little chance of the fight being
short. If he decided to go on the offensive himself, then with luck, he
would win. But at what cost? It would be very risky to expend his energy,
because if it wasn’t enough to defeat Felnorvard, there would be nothing
left, and it would be over. But what choice did he have? Perhaps a
combination of the two would be the best.
All of this flashed through Aragorn’s mind in the split second it took him
to raise his sword to block Felnorvard’s second strike. He needed to find
the man’s weakness; everyone had one. Aragorn knew his was that he favored
high swings, leaving his thighs and abdomen less protected. Luckily, it
was a very rare case when it was exploited. It would take a few more
swings and blocks before Aragorn would be able to find the weakness of his
opponent.
My strength holds better than expected, Aragorn thought as their swords
connected for the fifth time. I must remain strong for just a while
longer.
A block by Aragorn was quickly followed by a swing at Felnorvard’s upper
left arm. He nearly scored a hit, but the man was quick to deflect the
blow while jumping to the side. It was then that Aragorn saw what he’d
been looking for.
Felnorvard wore a very dark green tunic, but he could just barely make out
an even darker section near his left shoulder. Blood. It was then that
Aragorn remembered what happened during his rescue. He had heard the
whistle of an arrow and felt Felnorvard fall against him. Aragorn mentally
smiled to himself; this would be the weakness he’d exploit.
It was time to go on the attack. Aragorn did his best to make his opponent
use his left arm for every block. He forced a high strike over his head,
followed quickly by one low and to the right. Each man had powerful swings
so they needed to keep both hands on the sword hilt. Therefore, by
alternating where Aragorn tried to strike, Felnorvard was forced to
stretch his wounded muscles, but Aragorn could also feel his own strength
failing.
Aragorn’s breath was coming in short gasps, unfortunately showing
Felnorvard his current weakness, and the adrenaline that flowed through
his blood did not provide enough strength. After exchanging another few
strikes, Felnorvard made a bold move. He feigned a lunge to the right but
as Aragorn moved to block, managed to twist his sword in front of him.
Aragorn gasped as he felt the cold steel slice through his forearm. Blood
quickly soaked through the torn fabric and began to slide down his hand,
coating his fingers. The slick blood did nothing to help his already
faltering grip, and he risked taking a moment to wipe it away.
However, Felnorvard saw his opportunity and was quick to take advantage of
it. He swung his sword in a very high arc, bringing it toward the Ranger’s
shoulder. Aragorn had plenty of time to knock the blade away, but he
hadn’t thought far enough ahead to prepare for the following blow. His
right side was left completely unprotected, and Felnorvard’s fist shot
out, catching him in the cheekbone just under his eye.
Aragorn reeled backwards from the force of the blow. He could feel the
blood already starting to creep from his nose. That hit should never have
happened, and it only served to further deplete his strength reserves.
But Aragorn knew it was too late to back down. It would quickly come down
to who could better cope with injury and weakness. Aragorn felt like he
was back in training, always one step and thought behind, never enough of
a break to think through a series of moves, and never gaining the upper
hand against an opponent with superior strength. However, he’d been able
to beat the Elves often enough, and he could do it now to this man.
Felnorvard’s shoulder was indeed giving him more trouble, and Aragorn
noticed the man’s swings were clumsier and a bit less powerful but still
incredibly dangerous.
But then that Aragorn got his lucky shot. Felnorvard stood on slightly
uneven ground, and Aragorn aimed his next swing to knock him off balance.
It was not enough to send him to the ground, but it did open an important
window. In that split second, Aragorn charged forward and slammed his
shoulder directly into Felnorvard’s arrow wound, causing him to stagger
back with a sharp cry.
They continued for several more minutes dodging each other’s swings and
thrusts, making little progress. It was clear that Aragorn was loosing. He
simply could not get a chance to take an offensive position, and
Felnorvard knew it. He couldn’t rely on lucky shots to pull him through
this.
His breath was coming in short gasps now, and it seemed that he would
block Felnorvard’s blows with no time to spare. He simply could not force
his arms to move any faster. The man was able to land two more quick
punches to Aragorn’s head, causing his vision to blur and yellow spots
dance. This was not going well.
“You can’t beat me, Ranger. This ends,” Felnorvard said. From somewhere,
the man produced a sudden burst of energy and unleashed it on Aragorn.
They were coming more quickly now, blocking a high arc, dodging a low
swing to the right followed quickly by a thrust. Aragorn could not keep up
with the pace, and he was forced to take step after step backwards.
Then it happened. Felnorvard’s next strike sent Aragorn’s sword flying
from his hands and landed in the brush several feet away. Aragorn sank to
his knees, his legs refusing to support him any longer. He was disarmed,
he couldn’t breathe or move, and the darkness was closing in from all
sides.
Aragorn could see Felnorvard approach him, his sword lowered seeing the
defeat of his opponent. Aragorn’s mind raced; he had nothing to defend
himself, having lost his dagger he used to kill the Orc.
No wait, he’d been given another small blade that he’d put in his boot.
But he could barely lift his arm to fight. But perhaps... Not being too
far from the truth, Aragorn let his eyes close as his hand snaked down to
his small dagger.
Felnorvard stood proudly over Aragorn’s prone form. “I told you I would
win,” he said as he leaned down and grabbed the front of the Ranger’s
shirt, attempting to pull him up. What he did not expect was for Aragorn
to suddenly come back to life brandishing a sharp blade.
Just before Aragorn’s world completely fell in, he felt his dagger pierce
flesh and warm blood flow down his hands. Then everything went dark.
----------
Elladan was far from pleased as the group climbed the rock wall. The
crumbling surface was barely holding their weight, and several of the men
had lost their hold, swiftly finding themselves at the base once more.
Thankfully, the fall was only a few feet, making the situation more
annoying than dangerous. It would have even been amusing had someone’s
life not depended on their speed.
But Elladan knew there was nothing to be done. His arm burned with every
inch gained, and he could spare nothing. His mind was focused on finding
the next hold, praying the rock would not dissolve under his touch.
Elrohir helped as much as he could, but he also needed both his hands for
climbing and even uninjured, seemed to have just as much trouble.
Thankfully, none of the other Rangers had sustained any serious wounds
that would keep them from continuing. They consisted of cuts and bruises
that would heal over time but unfortunately still caused their muscles to
protest under stress.
After several painfully slow minutes and a few more scrapes and cuts, the
Rangers finally made it to the top, and Elladan led the group at a sprint
into the trees. Unfortunately, Elladan’s suspicions were confirmed when
they reached the clearing where Aragorn was supposed to be waiting and
found it empty. The two elves quickly fanned out, checking for trails
while Amaleg and Lourin went through their packs to grab their bows and
extra arrows.
“Here,” Elladan called, taking his bow from Lourin. “He has been taken
this way.” He placed his hand on a set of prints, studying it intently.
“Here and here. Two... Orcs…dragging something heavy. See? You can see
where Estel tried to dig in his heels to stop them.” He then looked up
along the tail. “Come, we must hurry! I fear the worst.”
Spreading out, the Rangers made their way down the trail at a fairly quick
pace. They needed to find Aragorn but not at the risk of failure; stealth
was still a necessity. They hadn’t gone far when a brief flash of gray in
the distance caught their attention. An Orc. It had been spooked and was
swiftly heading the other direction.
Still remaining silent, Lourin placed his hand on Elladan’s good shoulder.
He nodded once and turned off the path after the Orc. The elf knew the
creature would not escape to warn possible companions so he returned his
attention forward. It was very possible there was still more of them in
the area, and Elladan was constantly searching, concerned that perhaps he
would miss Aragorn if he somehow managed to escape and backtrack.
After a few more cautious paces, the Rangers halted. There was a pile of
dark bodies just ahead of them, and Aragorn was barely visible as one of
them. As much as Elladan wanted to rush to his brother’s side, he had
learned his lesson and quickly scanned the surrounding trees for signs of
an ambush. It would do none of them any good to walk blindly into another
trap. Elladan could see one Orc lying dead a few feet from the other
bodies. That would be the other of the two prints, then, he thought. But
we have been fooled before. Rayford and Amaleg strung their bows, ready to
provide cover fire if needed as the elves took a tentative step forward.
As they approached the two bodies, they could see a lot of blood, too much
in fact, and they feared the worst. The dark liquid soaked the ground and
stained flesh and cloth, bringing them to the awful conclusion that one,
if not both men, were dead.
Elrohir, with his blade in hand, quickly pulled Felnorvard off Aragorn’s
body. Flipping the man onto his back, the elf’s fingers searched for a
pulse and found one. The man’s heart still beat faintly, though he would
never rise again. There was nothing Elrohir could do with their current
supplies. He would bleed to death in minutes. Satisfied that Felnorvard
would cause no more trouble, he turned to his human brother.
Aragorn was covered in blood, and the only thing that comforted Elrohir
was that Elladan worked very swift but not frantic. Aragorn still lived.
Elrohir sat down next to the man’s head, checking his pulse. His heart was
racing, matching his breathing. “He spent all his energy,” Elrohir
concluded.
“I believe so,” Elladan responded. He pulled some bandages and herbs from
his pack and began his examination. “He is lucky that he didn’t simply
fall over dead. We should not have left him alone.”
Elrohir chose not to comment. He knew there was no arguing when he was in
that mood. So instead, Elrohir decided to help determine the extent of
Aragorn’s injuries. He was surprised to find relatively few wounds. “This
must be Felnorvard’s blood,” he concluded as he smeared more of it off
Aragorn’s face.
“Yes, I don’t think he suffered any serious injuries, though his forearm
must be cleaned and wrapped. But he’s exhausted, and we should let him
sleep as long as possible.”
“Come on then,” Elrohir said, helping his brother to his feet. “Let’s see
what we can do for Felnorvard if he still lives. I’d hate to see
everything he knows slip away.”
The elves knelt beside the dying man and looked him over carefully. They
cut his shirt away, revealing numerous gashes and old scars. The arrow
wound had been poorly tended and blood still trickled from its edges. The
most serious however, was what appeared to be a stab wound to his lower
abdomen. After making sure the man was indeed still alive, the two elves
split up their efforts.
Ripping part of a cloth in two and handing it to his brother, Elrohir
pressed his hands firmly against the man’s abdomen. The wound was not wide
but extremely deep, and there was no way to control the bleeding. It was a
fatal wound. Looking up, he saw Elladan holding the man’s shoulder, which
had finally stopped bleeding. The twins met each other’s eye.
In silent understanding, Elladan sighed and placed his hand at
Felnorvard’s throat. Then he brought his head down so his ear hovered just
over the man’s mouth. “His heart still weakly beats, but he no longer
draws breath.”
“I can not stop the bleeding,” Elrohir said quietly.
The other two men had already returned, having finished their inspection
of the area and finding no sign of any other attackers. Amaleg was at the
elves’ side, ready to assist any way he could, and Rayford had taken up a
post beside Aragorn.
“Then it’s over. He can’t survive, and there’s nothing to gain if we try
to breathe for him,” Elladan said. However, all three remained next to the
fallen man for a few more moments until finally, Elladan took his hand
from Felnorvard’s throat and said, “Come, he’s dead. Let’s begin our work
on Estel. He still needs to be cleaned up.”
Elrohir placed a hand on his good shoulder, stopping him. “I will let you
bind his arm, and that is all. Your own injuries require attention,” he
said, his voice full of concern. “You’re lucky I’ve let you come this
far.”
“I know, and I thank you. The danger has passed so I will do as you say.”
Elrohir laughed as they took a place on either side of Aragorn. “Very
rarely have you taken my advice so quickly, brother! I can only hope this
change is permanent.”
Smiling, Elladan quickly responded, gently rotating his shoulder. “Yes,
but rarely have my hurts protested so. However, I shall endeavor to return
to my old stubbornness as quickly as possible,” he said, bowing low.
Elrohir shook his head and laughed again. He could not help but notice the
playful twinkle in his brother’s eyes.
Rayford had already done a good job of wiping the excess blood off
Aragorn’s face, which helped show the elves exactly where he was injured.
Thankfully, Aragorn remained unconscious while his arm was cleaned and
wrapped. It was an easy enough task without him resisting their efforts.
During that time, the other men had already seen to their own minor
injuries and appointed themselves the task of cleaning Aragorn up the rest
of the way. His shirt was ruined and Felnorvard’s blood had soaked all the
way through to his skin. Aragorn was going to need a thorough bath, but
for now, a good wipe-down would do. They would also be able to apply cream
to the small cuts and scrapes that would keep away infection.
Seeing that Aragorn would be well cared for, Elrohir led his twin a few
paces away so he could remove the arrowhead. After sitting down and having
Elladan remove his shirt, he carefully examined the area around the tip of
the arrow.
“Why can’t all of them be like this?” Elrohir asked himself.
“What is it?” Elladan asked.
“Arrows usually do not go straight through the body.” Elladan nodded. He
had hunted and fought enough to know it. “However, yours exits right
here,” Elrohir said as he carefully tapped the arrowhead that slightly
protruded from the elf’s upper back. Ignoring his brother’s hiss of pain
at his touch, Elrohir continued. “It would be easier and less painful if
it was pushed the rest of the way through.”
Elladan nodded. It was going to hurt either way, but he knew Elrohir was
looking for his permission. They’d been alive for nearly three thousand
years and entirely too often found themselves patching each other up. It
was only through the Valar’s graces they’d survived this long without
receiving a fatal wound even though there had been a few close calls, and
in situations like this, each of them knew what needed to be done. “Do
what you think is best, brother.”
Elrohir positioned himself so that he faced his brother’s side and each
hand had access to the wooden shaft. A little more than an inch had been
left exposed in the front of his chest while only the tip of the metal
head could be seen at his back. Elrohir placed his palm over the broken
end and waited. Elladan knew the drill and seeing his brother ready, put
his good arm on the ground behind him to keep himself from falling back
when Elrohir pushed. He kept his eyes focused on the ground and with his
jaw firmly set, took a deep breath and nodded once.
In one swift motion, Elrohir’s left hand pushed the arrow the inch it
needed to completely break through which allowed his right to quickly pull
it out the rest of the way, barely leaving a moment between the two
actions. And for his part, Elladan managed to stifle a cry deep in his
throat and keep himself from falling back.
“I have good news for you, brother. I think you’ll live!” Elrohir said
with entirely too much enthusiasm. The only response he got was a grunt of
annoyance, which caused Elrohir to smile broadly and press a few more
bandages on either side of the wound.
“Live from what?”
Both elves turned to see Aragorn staring at them from the ground. The
Rangers were still trying to clean him up, but having decided he’d had
enough, Aragorn pushed them away. He was more interested in what his elven
brothers were talking about anyway.
“The Orcs gave us a little more trouble then we expected, and I was shot,”
Elladan stated flatly, through clenched teeth. It was going to take a few
more moments for his body to control the pain that was shooting down his
left side, and he quickly looked to his brother to continue.
Knowing exactly what Elladan wanted, Elrohir added, “And you should be
asleep or at the very least, resting. You nearly scared us to death when
we found you!”
“I am resting,” Aragorn said testily, the strain of recent events showing
through in his voice. The Rangers were being a little more forceful now,
trying to keep him on the ground, but Aragorn still tried to shake them
off. “What happened at the Orc camp?”
After making Aragorn promise to try and sleep, they told him about the
ambush. By the time they finished retelling the events, he simply could
not argue any longer. His head was beginning to spin again, and his
eyelids grew too heavy to keep open. They were still talking to him when
the darkness won, and he drifted to sleep.
----------
The first thing Aragorn noticed was the heat of the sun shining on his
face. Even with his eyes still closed, he could feel it. It’d been a long
time since he felt safe enough to just lie still and not worry about
anything. It was incredibly refreshing.
Aragorn could hear people talking quietly close by. How long has the sun
been shining today? Aragorn wondered, although he truly didn’t care. His
brothers would let him sleep for days if they thought he needed it,
however his mind currently told him that he’d slept long enough.
Slowly he opened his eyes and squinted at the trees above him for a while.
The other Rangers weren’t paying attention to him at the moment, but
Aragorn was content to just lie there and stare. But nothing can last
forever and finally the talking stopped and the sound of someone’s
footsteps could be heard crossing the clearing.
“How are you feeling? We’ve been worried,” Elladan said as he helped
Aragorn up to a sitting position. He also handed him a mug that was filled
with cool water.
Aragorn gratefully accepted it and after draining the cup, answered, “I am
well. I believe my strength has returned, thought I’d like to test it, and
I feel like I just spent a month under Lórien’s trees. I can not remember
the last time I felt this relaxed, both in body and mind.”
Elladan smiled, obviously pleased with his response. “What about your
wounds?”
Aragorn slowly rotated his shoulders and stretched his legs. “They are as
sore as expected but not like it was after your healing. Now, it’s only
because of the fight.”
“Good. That’s as it should be. You have been asleep for almost an entire
day now, and it’s given the side effects plenty of time to wear off,”
Elladan said.
Aragorn nodded. “We really shouldn’t stay here too long then. There may be
other Orc groups sent from Mordor to meet Felnorvard. I’d like to put
myself far away from this place so there’s no chance of me being
followed.”
“Of course,” Elladan said as he handed Aragorn something to eat. “We will
be heading north-west, following the Entwash, and of course you are
welcome with us. Lourin and Amaleg need to meet back up with the Dúnedain
at Bree. Apparently the wolves are starting to cause more trouble in the
Shire. Elrohir and I are going farther north to see if we can track down
Halbarad. It’s been a long time since we saw him.”
“Wolves, you say? How much of a problem?”
“Some are comparing it to the Fell Winter, which I pray isn’t the case. We
were traveling with the Rangers that year, and it took us a long time with
many lives lost to restore peace again,” Elladan said quietly.
“That was twenty years before my time,” Aragorn said. Elladan had rarely
spoken about his involvement during the Fell Winter, but nearly everyone
knew what happened. It was a terrifying time for the people of Eriador and
a bloody struggle for the Rangers. Aragorn knew many people who lost
parents or grandparents during that winter. “If they strike hard now,
hopefully they can be controlled.” Aragorn paused. This was just one more
thing that required his attention. “I don’t think I can head west with
you,” he finally said. “I also need to speak with Halbarad, but I must
find Gandalf first. We may not have Felnorvard’s testimony, but my
knowledge about Saruman’s betrayal should be more than enough.”
“Do you have any idea where he is? The last time we saw Mithrandir, he was
just outside of the Shire. However, that was over a year ago.”
Aragorn shook his head. “No. We searched Eriador extensively for several
years, and we agreed to turn east. When we parted company, he was going
south, then circling northeast. He could be anywhere between the Grey
Havens and Rhûn.”
“You know,” Elladan said, moving closer, “I’d recommend speaking with ada.
He has a wonderful talent for finding Mithrandir.”
“Yes. He will definitely be someone I’ll speak with. However, I must beg
that you two say nothing about Saruman to *anyone*, not even father.
Gandalf should be the first to know, and it’s very possible he wants this
kept quiet.”
“I completely understand, and I’ll make sure everyone else does too. What
would you like me to say if we meet Mithrandir on the road?”
Aragorn thought for a moment as he poured himself more water. “Tell him
that I have extremely urgent information for him. Make him understand the
severity of the situation without giving him specific details. I truly
don’t think you’ll find him, but send him to Rivendell.”
“Well? Where will you go? Rivendell?”
Aragorn sat quietly for a moment before he finally said, “I can not pass
up the opportunity to search briefly for Gollum in Emyn Muil. It would be
a protected place since nothing crosses the Dead Marshes. Gandalf and I
spoke often about the possibility of finding him there. After that I will
head north to the border of Mirkwood. The Elves may have some information
to offer if Gandalf has passed their border. If I still can’t find him,
I’ll speak with father.”
“We will travel with you for a few days at least,” Elladan said with a
smile. “It will give us a chance to just talk. It’s been too long since
we’ve been able to do that.” Now it was Elladan’s turn to pause as he
looked around the campsite where the Rangers had made a small fire and
started cooking. “The day is half spent so we can leave at sunrise
tomorrow if you feel well enough.”
Aragorn laughed. “That should be fine. What is the current watch
schedule?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Elladan said. “There’s more than enough of us to
handle it without you. I insist on this, Estel,” he said as the man began
to protest. “Complain all you want, but no one will wake you tonight.”
“Don’t you think I’ve slept enough?” Aragorn asked with a smile.
Elladan was silent for a moment, and Aragorn got the distinct impression
that he was hiding something. He quickly looked down at the cup he was
holding. “What have you done? Please tell me you didn’t put drugs in my
drink!”
Light elvish laughter echoed through the trees though Aragorn’s expression
remained serious. “Relax! No,” Elladan said. “I considered it, but I
thought I’d give you a chance to rest on your own.”
Aragorn still eyed his glass of water, but decided that it was already too
late, having drank two full cups. “Actually,” he said as he drained the
last few drops, “I think good company would help me more than sleep.”
“We can help with that, I think,” Elladan said with a soft smile. “I swear
you will know if I decide to give you anything. Just promise me you’ll try
and relax this evening.” Aragorn just smiled.
And so the small group of Rangers spent the evening talking, enjoying each
other’s company. Aragorn didn’t have to worry about anything during those
hours; his future seemed ages away and the past didn’t matter. He would
deal with whatever was to come but not until then.
----------
Aragorn stood, embracing his brothers. It was time for them to part
company. He wished that he could continue on with them, but it was not
possible. They needed to meet up with another group of Rangers, and
Aragorn had to speak with Gandalf.
“Let’s not wait so long to meet again,” Elrohir said, finally pulling
away. “And under better circumstances, if at all possible.”
Aragorn could only laugh. “I can promise you nothing, brother!”
“It’s a new year; who knows what it will bring? I have no doubt that we’ll
see you again before its end,” Elladan said. “Good luck in your search of
the Dead Marshes.”
Aragorn sighed, looking toward the east. “Yes, it will take entirely too
much time, but I fear I have no choice but to be thorough. The marshes are
wide, with many places for a small being to hide. Emyn Muil will be the
easiest.”
Amaleg and Lourin had already wished him good luck, but Rayford waited
until last. After the elves had backed away, the young man approached
Aragorn, saying, “I never got a chance to truly thank you for what you did
for me in Isengard. I would not have survived on my own.”
Aragorn placed his hand on Rayford’s shoulder. “You are the one who
brought my brothers to me, and without you, I would already be in Mordor.
We are both in each other’s debt.” After standing in silence for a moment,
Aragorn asked, “What are your plans?”
“I’ve lost everyone from my past, so I’m starting over. I’ve decided to
travel with the Rangers for a while, and I’m sure I’ll join them at some
point. It seems like the best thing to do,” he said.
“It is a good choice, and I wish you safety and success.” Rayford nodded
his thanks again and stepped away.
Aragorn repositioned his pack and looked to the north. He would need to
continue on if he wanted to make any distance before nightfall. His
brothers knew this as well and stepped forward to see him off. They had
one last thing to say to him.
“Whether you believe it or not, you will come into your inheritance,”
Elladan began.
“And trust that we will be there, by your side, when that time comes. You
will not face it alone,” Elrohir finished. “Know this and be comforted,
Estel.”
Aragorn smiled. Elves could make the simplest statement seem golden. It
was one of the reasons he loved them so much.
Knowing that he could not stay any longer, Aragorn began slowly walking
north. Maybe he would find Gandalf before Saruman could hurt anyone else.
Maybe his luck would change, and he’d find Gollum hiding in the Dead
Marshes. Maybe the One Ring really was lost forever and nothing would come
of their concern. Maybe he would become king, heralding a new Age of
peace. Maybe... But he could not dwell on those thoughts. It was a new
year, and it held so many possibilities that only the future would tell.
THE END!
Well, there you have it! All over! Now is the chance
for all you lurkers out there to tell me what you think! I really would
like to know... Go on. You know you want to. *G* But anyway, I am playing
around with the idea of a short sequel where Aragorn finds Gollum and
takes him to Mirkwood. In the actual books, that's where Aragorn and
Gandalf meet up, however, that will not be the case if I decide to write
it. Can't have him finding out about Saruman, can we! I'd work it so they
just miss each other, or something close to that. Keep an eye out for it,
but it may be *several* months before I start posting.
WAIT! You were going to leave weren't you... Leave a review first. *G*
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