Post by Admin on Jan 3, 2021 20:31:57 GMT
Author: just_jenni
Rating: PG
Author's Notes:
1. This is primarily a story about ranging and some of the odd things rangers can find when they are looking in strange places.
2. In the Tale of Years in LoTR: Appendix B is where I placed the story's timeline. The events should occur well before the LoTR story begins. I found that Elladan and Elrohir were born in Year 130 of the Third Age. Aragorn in this story is an adult. He was born in 2931 and the Witch-king vanished from the North in 1975. This is fortunate because I needed the Witch-king to be out of the region when this story takes place. Sauron also abandoned Dol Guldur in Mirkwood in 2941; therefore, these events take place in 2951 when the Tale of Years states that Aragorn has gone out into the Wild after having met Arwen. He is only 20 years old at the time and his good friend Legolas has accompanied him on this ranging adventure.
ANGMAR: Year 2951, Third Age
I.
Legolas glanced at Aragorn, sitting to his left at the Rangers' campfire about fifty miles northeast of the Hoarwell River. They were not far from the Witch-king's old domain that had been deserted since 1975 when Elrond and Cirdan defeated that evil lord in battle. For many days Aragorn and Legolas had been traveling in the company of a dozen of the Dunedain rangers, led by Halbarad, scouring the area for unusually large bands of Orcs that Mirkwood scouts had reported seeing on their travels. The company chose to camp for the night in a shallow ravine through which ran a narrow, muddy creek. They started a small campfire and tethered their horses a short way downstream. The creek might have been a bit muddy but it was a good source of drinking water for both men and steeds.
"Pssst, Aragorn, where are we?" Legolas kept his voice low, not wishing to be overheard by any of the rangers and at the same time embarrassed by his lack of knowledge of their whereabouts.
"How could you not know, Legolas?" Aragorn shot back his question as if he could read the elf's mind. "Were you not tracking our journey? I am not yet accomplished enough in ranging to be able to determine our location but I thought you might have been."
"Sorry to disappoint you," Legolas retorted. "I was too occupied searching the treetops for Orcs, thus I was not paying attention to our progress over ground. I thought that was to be your job." His bright eyes flashed in the fiery glow from the campfire flames.
"Must you always challenge me?" Aragorn, angry now, almost cried out loud. "You know as well as I do that I have not yet learned--" He broke off when he realized that the other rangers had stopped their activities to turn and watch with curiosity the young man and his elf companion.
Aragorn was not comfortable with the knowledge that he had let valuable time slip by while reading books in the library at Rivendell and spending days on end with the beautiful Arwen, daughter of Elrond, instead of learning the skills any ranger needed in order to become one of the elite. Since he had talked of nothing since his father's death but becoming one of these elite in order to protect the Shire, he now felt as if he had let everyone down and no less himself, by shirking his lessons, thus being currently useless in the field.
"Not yet learned what, young one?" Halbarad approached the two friends. The accomplished ranger was a tall man with a stern face and perpetual stubble growing on cheeks and chin, yet he was kind and very knowledgable about his occupation.
"How to track properly," Aragorn replied sheepishly.
"Did you not always say that you wished to learn how to track in the wild?" Halbarad peered at Aragorn closely from under his dark brows, with nothing but kindness shining from his eyes. The man could sometimes be so stern as to border on harsh with his men, but was never that way with Aragorn.
"Yes, I did," Aragorn replied, feeling horribly ashamed. But then his friend the elf broke the tension by scooping up a handful of cold pebbles from the stream and dropping them down the back of Aragorn's shirt. Aragorn's mood lightened and he tried not to burst into laughter. He did manage to shoot Legolas a meaningful look that said, 'I'll get you back for that later', before turning again to look up at Halbarad.
"That is commendable, Estel," Halbarad replied, using Aragorn's elvish name. "How much about ranging do you already know?" He turned abruptly to stride a few steps to where his horse stood where he retrieved something from its saddlebag.
Aragorn used the opportunity when Halbarad wasn't looking to give Legolas a sharp elbow jab, but the elf sensed what he was going to do and dodged sideways, out of range of Aragorn.
"Ah", said Aragorn, and spotting Halbarad returning, switched focus and knit his brows. "I know that moss grows on the north side of trees, that it is easier to track footprints in mud than on dry ground, and that it is almost impossible to track someone through water."
Halbarad's stare was tinged with disappointment. "You haven't really made much effort, have you?" he asked. "Those are all defensive strategies for avoiding being hunted and basic ones at that. Is this truly the extent of your knowledge?"
Aragorn, red-faced, nodded and tried to suppress an overwhelming feeling of shame. He did not want this trip to be ruined because of his failures and Halbarad's disappointment in him.
"How old are you, Aragorn?" Halbarad asked.
"Twenty," replied the future King of Gondor.
"You are little more than a lad," the older ranger replied, his voice softening with kindness, "but that does not excuse you from the irresponsible behaviour of your companion, who looks to be several centuries past his majority." He glared at Legolas.
The elf made no response but his eyes widened at the ranger's remark.
"As for you, young or not," Halbarad continued, "I am surprised that after telling everyone within earshot for years that you wanted to become a ranger, and one of the best at that, you have not pursued your studies with the result that you are not safe in the wild at present. If I had known how little you knew of ranging I would not have brought you to so dangerous a place as this."
Aragorn began to stammer but was prevented from speaking by the approach of Veandur, one of the scouts who had been sent ahead to search the area north of them. He came crashing through the water as if a band of orcs were on his heels.
"Halbarad! I must speak with you immediately," cried the scout. The two rangers moved off out of earshot of Aragorn and Legolas, their heads bent together, talking in hushed tones.
Presently Halbarad returned to speak to Aragorn, Legolas and the other rangers.
"Veandur has told me that he has seen another campfire about a league north of here."
One man asked if it could be another band of rangers. Halbarad replied that he didn't think so because they were the only group who had come this far north to look for orcs.
"It could be an orc encampment and I do not wish to discover in the middle of the night that the other campers are orcs. I think that some of us should go to investigate. If it is a band of orcs we should find out how many there are, then come back to get the rest of you and launch a surprise attack on them before they can form up against us. I will need you, Legolas. Your night vision and prowess with bow and arrow will be of great benefit if they are indeed orcs. And you, Veandur, will show us the way."
"Can I go with you?" Aragorn asked.
Halbarad paused for a moment. "I should not allow it," he said solemnly, "based on what I heard from you a few moments ago. What if something dire were to happen to you if I take you with me? How would I explain it to Lord Elrond?" But he hesitated briefly before saying, "Come on, then. I shall also not be responsible for what might happen if I leave you here without the elf. I will need to keep a close eye on you at all times."
It did not take the small party long to reach the site of the second campfire. While they traveled swiftly the area was open and bleak and strong winds covered the sounds of their approach. The rangers dismounted downwind and left the horses partially hidden among a stand of tall, sparse trees. Legolas, with his night vision, made sure that their mounts were tied securely to the tree trunks before catching up with the men creeping slowly toward the alien campsite.
"Aragorn, since you do not have use of your eyes, use your nose to find out what you can about these people," Halbarad whispered. "What can you detect?"
Aragorn sniffed deeply, his nose in the air. "Smoke from the fire overwhelms some of the other scents, but I smell animals other than horses."
"Could it be orcs?" Halbarad sniffed the air as well.
"No, not orcs," Veandur offered, "but dog, or dogs. And another scent I cannot quite determine. Vaguely human, but also not human."
No one could see Halbarad's creased brow. "Let's move closer so we can have a better chance of finding out who they are. Legolas, can you see anything clearly?"
They crept toward the campsite along the ground on their bellies, staying as flat as possible. Finally they came as close as Halbarad thought was safe and raised their heads to look at a group of figures sitting in a circle with a fire blazing in the centre.
"There are ten of them," Legolas said in a low voice. "They look like men, hooded and cloaked so I cannot see their features. They are feeding a dog. He goes from one to the next and each person feeds him a scrap of food."
"I thought I smelled a dog," Veandur interjected. "If they are men, not orcs, and they have a dog with them, they are likely not hostile nor our enemy." He rose to a sitting position, Aragorn following, stretching out his legs. "Should we retreat, fetch our horses and go back to our own campsite? I could do with a long r--"
Legolas cut him off. "Wait. Oh gods!" He raised a hand to grasp one of his arrows from the quiver at his back, standing as he did so.
Halbarad jumped to his feet and grasped the elf's arm to prevent him from nocking an arrow. "What do you see?"
"They have just killed the dog," Legolas hissed, his bared teeth glowing white in the pale glow from the still-distant campfire. "Why would they do such a thing to a pet?"
"What now, Legolas?" Halbarad asked, his hand still on Legolas' arm to keep him still. "Keep watching and tell us what they do. This might be some sort of ritual..."
"Ai, Elbereth," Legolas cried after some moments. "They have cut him open. They removed something from his body...something large...it glistens in the firelight." He turned to Halbarad, his breath a thin wisp of steam. They have cut the dog into ten pieces and each of them has eaten a piece of its flesh before throwing the remains onto the fire."
As soon as Legolas said this the fire sparked and became larger. Suddenly the four rangers were lit, exposed in the sudden flare like hungry wolves caught out in the open.
"What should we do now?" Aragorn asked. "They have not done anything to hurt us. It is but an animal they have killed. Perhaps they were starving out here in the wilderness."
"No," Halbarad shook his head. "Why would starving people kill a dog they have just fed? It does not make sense. Food is plentiful enough around here if you know where to look for it. There is small wildlife, nuts, berries, root plants...no, this does not make sense."
"I think we should leave them alone and go back to camp." Veandur turned toward the horses.
"I would like to go down there and talk to them." Aragorn's words startled everyone in the group.
"No, Estel, you will not." Halbarad's voice was sterner than usual.
"But I have read many interesting things about different peoples in Master Elrond's library," Aragorn insisted. "I would like to study these strange people--"
"You will do no such thing under my watch," Halbarad interrupted him. "Reading books and approaching strange people in the wild are two different things. There is always a chance of meeting real danger in a place such as this. One must be wary at all times and not walk openly into an unknown situation."
"Come, Aragorn," Legolas spoke softly, taking Aragorn's arm and leading him away. "It is best we go back to camp now."
Aragorn pulled his arm away. "I can walk fine by myself," he said petulantly.
The small group began to walk toward the trees where they had left the horses, but the sudden noise of a cracking twig caused all four to turn around. They found themselves set upon by cloaked, hooded men bearing clubs hopping toward them as if on one foot. Aragorn was the first to fall, sustaining a blow to the side of his head.
"Aragorn!" Legolas cried, reaching for his bow, but was grabbed from behind by two strong men and a third yanked the bow from his hand.
After a brief struggle Halbarad and Veandur had slain their attackers with sword and knife but could only watch in horror as both Aragorn and Legolas were borne away toward the alien campfire. The remainder of the people who had been sitting around it were now standing. Farther away from the fire was a group of tents from which poured many more of the beings, who all began running toward the rangers.
Halbarad realized it would be folly to try to fight so many, yet he was reluctant to leave Aragorn and Legolas behind. Conflicted and with pained heart, he grabbed Veandur's arm.
"Come on!" the ranger cried. He and Veandur ran for the horses.
II.
Elrohir rode hard to the west along the rocky, hilly terrain of the Ettenmoors. He had a feeling that his companions had gone too far east while looking for a place to ford the river and had thus missed the large band of strange creatures who had taken Legolas and Aragorn captive. He hoped that they were still alive and that either he or the rest of the search party Elrond had sent out from Rivendell would find them unhurt. The relentless staccato pounding of his horse's hooves was the only sound that could be heard in the vast wildnerness through which he traveled. Blue, pink and purple clouds were stretched across the western sky as the sun began to set. Birds of prey hovered high above the land. The wind had died down and the air was very still, smelling of damp earth and grass. Hopelessness never entered Elrohir's thoughts although he searched in a terrifyingly bleak and borderless land for a small group of people that he had never seen. It would have been a daunting task for even the most seasoned warrior, but was not daunting for someone of Elrohir's mettle.
It grew dark with the shadows of night closing in upon the hills. Elrohir brought his steed to a halt when he feared that he could not go further lest there be danger of falling down a hole or a gap among the rocks. Feeling frustrated because he would have liked to push on, he quickly unpacked his gear and tethered the horse to a nearby tree overlooking a stream. But instead of pitching his tent right away he sat down on a flat-topped rock, wrapped his cloak around his shoulders and brooded over the events of a few days before.
The rangers Halbarad and Veandur had arrived at his father's house with dire news about Aragorn and Legolas being attacked and borne away by strange creatures in the night. While Elrond, very angry, was more concerned about Aragorn because of his long-standing commitment to protect the man, Elrohir found himself more concerned for the elf, a close friend since childhood. It was a blow to hear about the abduction itself but he found that he became quite emotional when the thought that he might never see his old friend Legolas again crossed his mind. He had never thought much about it before. It was his way to consider every one of his relationships casual, but now the sudden realization that he might have lost someone close to him had hit him hard. It was different with other soldiers, friends of his who were also warriors and lost in battle. He didn't know why he felt this way. Perhaps it was because there was something heroic and honourable about dying in battle, but not in being abducted and killed while helpless to protect oneself.
Elrohir sighed, putting his thoughts aside for the time being, and began to pitch his tent when a light caught his eye, glimmering faintly atop a nearby hill. It flickered like fire. Elrohir dropped his tent pegs and advanced toward the light, sword and knives, bow and arrows ready. His brooding thoughts had affected his mood and he was angry and ready for battle. He ached to fight the creatures he hoped to find upon that hilltop.
Crouching low and creeping silently along the ground until he was at the foot of the hill, he stopped to listen. A low voice was speaking words he did not recognize. He inched forward, climbing up the hill on his belly toward the voice. When he was almost at the summit he stopped and listened carefully. The voice was speaking in an odd, staccato manner. Elrohir heard some of the same words being repeated over and over although he did not know the language being spoken. But the repetition made it sound like a chant, something ritualistic, and other voices joined in, singsong voices. A large thatch of grass provided a screen for him to peer through and he crept towards it to get a look at the creatures.
He could see a group of tall, thin, robed figures standing around a crackling bonfire. He could not see Aragorn or Legolas although he looked intently for them. Several of the robed figures were lifting stones and piling them in a mound off to one side of the fire. Others brought armfuls of kindling and set them on the ground at the base of the stone mound. There were fourteen figures altogether, Elrohir counted. He pulled two arrows from his quiver and set them both against his bowstring, holding their fletchings between three fingers. Legolas had btaught him how to do this and he hoped he could fell two of the creatures with one shot, reach back for two more arrows and kill two more and so on until all the rest rushed him, at which time he would finish off the remainder of these beings with his sword and knives. He had it all planned out in his mind, the bloodlust settling on him like a cloak of red.
He stood up, nocked the two arrows, took aim and let them fly. Two of the robed figures fell, arrows piercing their hearts. Elrohir quickly nocked two more arrows while more of the startled creatures looked for the source of the deadly shafts. Elrohir shot two more of the beings before seeing that the remainder had turned and were hopping away, trying to get down the hillside before his arrows could reach them. Quickly he realized that they hopped and did not run, and that they were able to move very quickly and efficiently, covering large distances between hops. One of them had grabbed a torch and was hopping down the hillside with it. Elrohir followed the creature. The figure darted amoung the boulders until it reached a cave entrance and disappeared inside.
Elrohir followed deep inside the caves, traversing the rocky ground carefully and silently. A long tunnel twisted its way through the area under the hill, continuing for many metres before it opened into a wide, spacious cavern. Elrohir smelled dampness and a stink of rot or something very foul - the reek of blood and dead flesh.
He spied the figure crossing to a torch on the wall, lighting it with the one it was carrying. Elrohir quickly hid behind a large rock and glanced around the cavernous space until his gaze fell upon a pale figure chained hand and foot to the opposite cave wall, its feet not far above the ground. Waiting until the robed figure turned its back to him and began fiddling with something - the sound of tin utensils clanking against each other filled the cave, affording a cover of noise - Elrohir advanced swiftly to stand behind the figure, affording it no chance to defend itself. The elf took it by the throat and squeezed it until it fell unconscious upon the ground before approaching the figure hanging upon the wall. He could see that its head hung down and that dirty, long blond hair fell over its face, obscuring its features. It was obviously a man - he was thin and naked, his ribs apparent through his fair skin. He was unconscious.
Elrohir reached up and cut the chains from the man's wrists with his sturdy knife. The limp body fell against his shoulder, where Elrohir let it lie until he could sever the chains from his feet. After the man was cut free, Elrohir laid him on the ground and brushed the hair from his face.
"Why, it is Legolas! What luck that I chanced to find you here." He tried to rouse his old friend by patting his cheeks. The prince of Mirkwood groaned softly but did not open his eyes. He seemed to be hurt but there were no visible wounds on his body although he was covered with dirt. Elrohir wrapped him in his cloak, lifted him up and carried him out of the cave the same way he had come in. When he reached his horse unseen, he carefully draped Legolas over its back before packing up the supplies he had left on the ground as well as the food and water he had brought from the cave. After leaping into the saddle he started riding hard to the southeast toward Rivendell.
III.
Eventually they reached a heavily wooded area where Elrohir decided to stop. He was worried about his old friend who had not yet awakened and wanted to take a closer look at him. However, it was well past nightfall with only a dim silvery light provided by the moon. When he reached a clearing in which the ground became more visible and the grass was soft beneath the horse's hooves, Elrohir stopped and dismounted. Carefully he lifted Legolas down and laid him on the ground. He shook his friend lightly by the shoulder. "Legolas!"
The Mirkwood prince opened his eyes and licked his dry lips, gazing questioningly at Elrohir, who had taken the flagon of water from his saddlebag and held it for his friend to take a sip. After emitting a series of dry coughs, Legolas spoke.
"I hurt everywhere," he said in a hoarse voice.
"I see no wounds upon you," Elrohir told him, "but you need to bathe. You are covered in grime and you smell bad."
Legolas coughed more.
"In the morning I will try to find a stream where you can wash. I am afraid you have no clothing but I suppose I can share some of mine with you. Sleep first, however, and then you can tell me what happened, and Aragorn's whereabouts because I did not find him in the cave in which I found you."
Legolas swallowed before clearing his throat. "I fought the creatures to the best of my ability but they overpowered me in the end, put me in chains and took me to the cave. Aragorn did not fight." At this he looked up at Elrohir with a look of confusion in his eyes. "Aragorn was trying to talk to them," Legolas continued, "though he did not know their language. I know not what they have done with him." He shook his head slowly, a sad, pained expression altering his usually smooth features.
"Did you discover anything about these creatures?" Elrohir asked. "I was not able to see them clearly."
"They are a different being from us," Legolas replied. "They are not elf or man but something else. Before they dragged me away Aragorn called out that he understood that they had something to do with the Witch-king of old, that they had been his creatures but rebelled against him and escaped - and that I was not to harm them."
"Well, I killed quite a few," Elrohir said. "Aragorn will not be pleased with me when next I see him. But they are creatures of the Witch-king of Angmar? The ruins of his old realm are almost the same distance from here as is Rivendell. I am torn between contining to search for Aragorn and taking you home."
"Rivendell..." Legolas spoke the name in a dreamy voice. "I should like to see it again, though I think we should make haste to find Aragorn. They may have taken him to their old home now that the Witch-king has abandoned it. We should look there."
"You will see Rivendell before anything else," Elrohir replied. "But we will need more men to form a hunting party. I am afraid I became separated from mine some days ago. In the morning we shall ride for my home and make great haste to reach it as soon as possible. Even though," he said with a grin, "I am not sure I fancy my father's wrath when I tell him that Aragorn is still missing and we know nothing about his safety."
"I can imagine your father's ire will be great," Legolas remarked, "but this does not worry me. I have faced my own father's wrath more times than I care to remember. Nothing can be worse than that."
Both elves managed to laugh at this before retiring for the night.
~~~
Legolas was right about Elrond's ire. He and Elrohir had arrived in Rivendell the night before after riding flat out for several days, stopping only to refresh their horses and take a bit of light refreshment themselves. Both elves stood in Master Elrond's vast library listening to what he had to say about their misadventure. While Legolas was accustomed to hearing lectures from his own father he felt embarrassed by Elrond's diatribe in which the Lord of Rivendell used words such as 'irresponsible' and 'foolhardy' several times, plus a few others that would have reddened the ears of many an elf of not the fortitude of the Prince of Mirkwood. He stood calmly, spine as straight as a poker, hands clasped behind his back, while staring at the glorious artwork adorning the high walls. His gaze wandered to the admirable architecture of the ceiling before drifting to shelf upon shelf of books themselves, ancient tomes as well as more modern literature, numbering in the thousands. The impressiveness of such a display of books was sadly lost upon Legolas, who was much more interested in the outdoors, riding, hunting and roaming about than in reading in the warm, cosy interior of Rivendell's library.
Presently Elrond finished his speech and dismissed his son along with Legolas. The two young elves exchanged glances once outside the doors and out of sight of Elrohir's father, trying desperately not to burst into laughter at some of the outrageous language the Lord of Rivendell had used.
"Do you fancy doing some hunting?" Elrohir asked.
"I think I have had enough of that for awhile," Legolas replied, "but I would love a swim in the river. I think the water might feel soothing to my limbs and the wounds that are still fresh upon my body."
Elrohir nodded and both elves found their way down to the Bruinen, disrobed and lowered themselves into its soothing waters. They bathed for awhile, refreshing themselves and before long they spied a small bedraggled party of what appeared to be rangers, trotting single file down the path that led toward the outpost. The two elves looked at each other, both thinking the same thing, before bounding out of the water, hastily getting into the clothes they had tossed carelessly onto the bank and dashing back to the house. There they found not only Halbarad and his men, but also Elladan and his troop of elves from whom Elrohir had become separated a fortnight since.
"Elladan!" His brother, delighted to see his twin, clasped him tightly around the shoulders and hugged him. "How did you fare?" Since he had eyes only for Elladan he had not noticed that behind the men trooping in the direction of Elrond's favourite meeting place, the library, was an uncharacteristically quiet Aragorn, head hanging low on his chest, ragged and dirty, both hands tightly folded in front of him. He did not appear injured, he was not limping, nor was he covered in blood, as Legolas had feared might be his state if he ever saw his friend again. Both elves shouted at the same time.
"Aragorn!"
The young man of twenty raised his head. His eyes were bleary as if he had not slept in many days, but apart from his unkempt and exhausted appearance, he seemed not to be in any distress.
"How do you fare? What happened to you? Are you all right?"
So many questions at once caused Aragorn to shake his head, bewilderment causing his usually alert eyes to glaze.
"Where is Master Elrond?" Halbarad spoke first, in his typically loud voice, used to shouting over large distances but echoing within the walls of the Last Homely House.
"In the direction you are going you will be sure to find my father in the library," Elrohir replied. "Come, we will accompany you. We would both love to hear your story."
It was quite an interesting one. After a bit of wine and cheese and a crust of freshly baked bread, Aragorn told his tale of being taken by the strange creatures they had come across on what was to be the long journey back to Angmar. He preferred to say 'accompanied' rather than 'taken' and 'strange people' rather than 'creatures'.
"Angmar!" Elrond exclaimed, aghast. "But you did not get as far as that. What happened along the way?"
It was a very lengthy story to relate but Aragorn did his best. It seemed that while the Witch-king had learned from Morgoth how to create evil beings from torturing and corrupting hapless elves who wandered into his kingdom, it happened that there were some poor souls who possessed much hardier constitutions than others, and these were the so-called creatures that Halbarad, Legolas and Aragorn had discovered upon their quest. They had not turned evil, far from it, Aragorn related. But their bodies had been maimed and twisted, some were missing limbs and all had been reduced to having only one leg which accounted for their odd hopping movements.
"They were only trying to get home," Aragorn said solemnly. "They wished no harm to anyone. They heard that the Witch-king had abandoned his realm and these poor people were merely trying to find a place to eke out an existence, far away from others who might condemn them as we almost did."
"I killed many of them," Elrohir admitted, his countenence grey with gloom, his bright eyes downcast. "I feel ashamed."
"But we did not know anything about them," Halbarad said, putting a comforting hand upon Elrohir's arm. "Most corrupted elves turned out to be orcs, the most evil of creatures in the wild. You were not to know that these people were different. After all, when we first found them they were in the act of butchering and eating their pet dog."
"Besides," Legolas interrupted. "They strung me up on a wall in that cave and were beating me. But I also had killed a few of them before they captured me. Perhaps that was the reason I was being punished. I could not understand the language they were speaking, nor them mine."
"We all have our rituals," Aragorn shrugged.
All eyes turned upon him. It was Elrond who spoke first. "How did you comunicate with these people?"
"I learned to speak their language," the young man admitted.
"So quickly?" Halbarad's eyes opened wide with surprise.
Aragorn shrugged and a fleeting smile crossed his lips before vanishing into the lines of exhaustion on his face. "It was easy."
Everyone exchanged glances at that but no one could find words to express their mixed feelings.
"Come," Elrond said finally. "You are in much need of rest and a bath would do wonders for your comfort before you retire. On the morrow we will discuss more about these unusual people and the strange adventure you have taken with them. I am much relieved that Halbarad and his rangers managed to find you before they had squired you too far away. My esteem for you and what I always believed you were capable of accomplishing has been renewed, Aragorn. Please sleep on that and we will talk on the morrow."
With that, men and elves retired, their journey of discovery at an end, at least for the moment.
Rating: PG
Author's Notes:
1. This is primarily a story about ranging and some of the odd things rangers can find when they are looking in strange places.
2. In the Tale of Years in LoTR: Appendix B is where I placed the story's timeline. The events should occur well before the LoTR story begins. I found that Elladan and Elrohir were born in Year 130 of the Third Age. Aragorn in this story is an adult. He was born in 2931 and the Witch-king vanished from the North in 1975. This is fortunate because I needed the Witch-king to be out of the region when this story takes place. Sauron also abandoned Dol Guldur in Mirkwood in 2941; therefore, these events take place in 2951 when the Tale of Years states that Aragorn has gone out into the Wild after having met Arwen. He is only 20 years old at the time and his good friend Legolas has accompanied him on this ranging adventure.
ANGMAR: Year 2951, Third Age
I.
Legolas glanced at Aragorn, sitting to his left at the Rangers' campfire about fifty miles northeast of the Hoarwell River. They were not far from the Witch-king's old domain that had been deserted since 1975 when Elrond and Cirdan defeated that evil lord in battle. For many days Aragorn and Legolas had been traveling in the company of a dozen of the Dunedain rangers, led by Halbarad, scouring the area for unusually large bands of Orcs that Mirkwood scouts had reported seeing on their travels. The company chose to camp for the night in a shallow ravine through which ran a narrow, muddy creek. They started a small campfire and tethered their horses a short way downstream. The creek might have been a bit muddy but it was a good source of drinking water for both men and steeds.
"Pssst, Aragorn, where are we?" Legolas kept his voice low, not wishing to be overheard by any of the rangers and at the same time embarrassed by his lack of knowledge of their whereabouts.
"How could you not know, Legolas?" Aragorn shot back his question as if he could read the elf's mind. "Were you not tracking our journey? I am not yet accomplished enough in ranging to be able to determine our location but I thought you might have been."
"Sorry to disappoint you," Legolas retorted. "I was too occupied searching the treetops for Orcs, thus I was not paying attention to our progress over ground. I thought that was to be your job." His bright eyes flashed in the fiery glow from the campfire flames.
"Must you always challenge me?" Aragorn, angry now, almost cried out loud. "You know as well as I do that I have not yet learned--" He broke off when he realized that the other rangers had stopped their activities to turn and watch with curiosity the young man and his elf companion.
Aragorn was not comfortable with the knowledge that he had let valuable time slip by while reading books in the library at Rivendell and spending days on end with the beautiful Arwen, daughter of Elrond, instead of learning the skills any ranger needed in order to become one of the elite. Since he had talked of nothing since his father's death but becoming one of these elite in order to protect the Shire, he now felt as if he had let everyone down and no less himself, by shirking his lessons, thus being currently useless in the field.
"Not yet learned what, young one?" Halbarad approached the two friends. The accomplished ranger was a tall man with a stern face and perpetual stubble growing on cheeks and chin, yet he was kind and very knowledgable about his occupation.
"How to track properly," Aragorn replied sheepishly.
"Did you not always say that you wished to learn how to track in the wild?" Halbarad peered at Aragorn closely from under his dark brows, with nothing but kindness shining from his eyes. The man could sometimes be so stern as to border on harsh with his men, but was never that way with Aragorn.
"Yes, I did," Aragorn replied, feeling horribly ashamed. But then his friend the elf broke the tension by scooping up a handful of cold pebbles from the stream and dropping them down the back of Aragorn's shirt. Aragorn's mood lightened and he tried not to burst into laughter. He did manage to shoot Legolas a meaningful look that said, 'I'll get you back for that later', before turning again to look up at Halbarad.
"That is commendable, Estel," Halbarad replied, using Aragorn's elvish name. "How much about ranging do you already know?" He turned abruptly to stride a few steps to where his horse stood where he retrieved something from its saddlebag.
Aragorn used the opportunity when Halbarad wasn't looking to give Legolas a sharp elbow jab, but the elf sensed what he was going to do and dodged sideways, out of range of Aragorn.
"Ah", said Aragorn, and spotting Halbarad returning, switched focus and knit his brows. "I know that moss grows on the north side of trees, that it is easier to track footprints in mud than on dry ground, and that it is almost impossible to track someone through water."
Halbarad's stare was tinged with disappointment. "You haven't really made much effort, have you?" he asked. "Those are all defensive strategies for avoiding being hunted and basic ones at that. Is this truly the extent of your knowledge?"
Aragorn, red-faced, nodded and tried to suppress an overwhelming feeling of shame. He did not want this trip to be ruined because of his failures and Halbarad's disappointment in him.
"How old are you, Aragorn?" Halbarad asked.
"Twenty," replied the future King of Gondor.
"You are little more than a lad," the older ranger replied, his voice softening with kindness, "but that does not excuse you from the irresponsible behaviour of your companion, who looks to be several centuries past his majority." He glared at Legolas.
The elf made no response but his eyes widened at the ranger's remark.
"As for you, young or not," Halbarad continued, "I am surprised that after telling everyone within earshot for years that you wanted to become a ranger, and one of the best at that, you have not pursued your studies with the result that you are not safe in the wild at present. If I had known how little you knew of ranging I would not have brought you to so dangerous a place as this."
Aragorn began to stammer but was prevented from speaking by the approach of Veandur, one of the scouts who had been sent ahead to search the area north of them. He came crashing through the water as if a band of orcs were on his heels.
"Halbarad! I must speak with you immediately," cried the scout. The two rangers moved off out of earshot of Aragorn and Legolas, their heads bent together, talking in hushed tones.
Presently Halbarad returned to speak to Aragorn, Legolas and the other rangers.
"Veandur has told me that he has seen another campfire about a league north of here."
One man asked if it could be another band of rangers. Halbarad replied that he didn't think so because they were the only group who had come this far north to look for orcs.
"It could be an orc encampment and I do not wish to discover in the middle of the night that the other campers are orcs. I think that some of us should go to investigate. If it is a band of orcs we should find out how many there are, then come back to get the rest of you and launch a surprise attack on them before they can form up against us. I will need you, Legolas. Your night vision and prowess with bow and arrow will be of great benefit if they are indeed orcs. And you, Veandur, will show us the way."
"Can I go with you?" Aragorn asked.
Halbarad paused for a moment. "I should not allow it," he said solemnly, "based on what I heard from you a few moments ago. What if something dire were to happen to you if I take you with me? How would I explain it to Lord Elrond?" But he hesitated briefly before saying, "Come on, then. I shall also not be responsible for what might happen if I leave you here without the elf. I will need to keep a close eye on you at all times."
It did not take the small party long to reach the site of the second campfire. While they traveled swiftly the area was open and bleak and strong winds covered the sounds of their approach. The rangers dismounted downwind and left the horses partially hidden among a stand of tall, sparse trees. Legolas, with his night vision, made sure that their mounts were tied securely to the tree trunks before catching up with the men creeping slowly toward the alien campsite.
"Aragorn, since you do not have use of your eyes, use your nose to find out what you can about these people," Halbarad whispered. "What can you detect?"
Aragorn sniffed deeply, his nose in the air. "Smoke from the fire overwhelms some of the other scents, but I smell animals other than horses."
"Could it be orcs?" Halbarad sniffed the air as well.
"No, not orcs," Veandur offered, "but dog, or dogs. And another scent I cannot quite determine. Vaguely human, but also not human."
No one could see Halbarad's creased brow. "Let's move closer so we can have a better chance of finding out who they are. Legolas, can you see anything clearly?"
They crept toward the campsite along the ground on their bellies, staying as flat as possible. Finally they came as close as Halbarad thought was safe and raised their heads to look at a group of figures sitting in a circle with a fire blazing in the centre.
"There are ten of them," Legolas said in a low voice. "They look like men, hooded and cloaked so I cannot see their features. They are feeding a dog. He goes from one to the next and each person feeds him a scrap of food."
"I thought I smelled a dog," Veandur interjected. "If they are men, not orcs, and they have a dog with them, they are likely not hostile nor our enemy." He rose to a sitting position, Aragorn following, stretching out his legs. "Should we retreat, fetch our horses and go back to our own campsite? I could do with a long r--"
Legolas cut him off. "Wait. Oh gods!" He raised a hand to grasp one of his arrows from the quiver at his back, standing as he did so.
Halbarad jumped to his feet and grasped the elf's arm to prevent him from nocking an arrow. "What do you see?"
"They have just killed the dog," Legolas hissed, his bared teeth glowing white in the pale glow from the still-distant campfire. "Why would they do such a thing to a pet?"
"What now, Legolas?" Halbarad asked, his hand still on Legolas' arm to keep him still. "Keep watching and tell us what they do. This might be some sort of ritual..."
"Ai, Elbereth," Legolas cried after some moments. "They have cut him open. They removed something from his body...something large...it glistens in the firelight." He turned to Halbarad, his breath a thin wisp of steam. They have cut the dog into ten pieces and each of them has eaten a piece of its flesh before throwing the remains onto the fire."
As soon as Legolas said this the fire sparked and became larger. Suddenly the four rangers were lit, exposed in the sudden flare like hungry wolves caught out in the open.
"What should we do now?" Aragorn asked. "They have not done anything to hurt us. It is but an animal they have killed. Perhaps they were starving out here in the wilderness."
"No," Halbarad shook his head. "Why would starving people kill a dog they have just fed? It does not make sense. Food is plentiful enough around here if you know where to look for it. There is small wildlife, nuts, berries, root plants...no, this does not make sense."
"I think we should leave them alone and go back to camp." Veandur turned toward the horses.
"I would like to go down there and talk to them." Aragorn's words startled everyone in the group.
"No, Estel, you will not." Halbarad's voice was sterner than usual.
"But I have read many interesting things about different peoples in Master Elrond's library," Aragorn insisted. "I would like to study these strange people--"
"You will do no such thing under my watch," Halbarad interrupted him. "Reading books and approaching strange people in the wild are two different things. There is always a chance of meeting real danger in a place such as this. One must be wary at all times and not walk openly into an unknown situation."
"Come, Aragorn," Legolas spoke softly, taking Aragorn's arm and leading him away. "It is best we go back to camp now."
Aragorn pulled his arm away. "I can walk fine by myself," he said petulantly.
The small group began to walk toward the trees where they had left the horses, but the sudden noise of a cracking twig caused all four to turn around. They found themselves set upon by cloaked, hooded men bearing clubs hopping toward them as if on one foot. Aragorn was the first to fall, sustaining a blow to the side of his head.
"Aragorn!" Legolas cried, reaching for his bow, but was grabbed from behind by two strong men and a third yanked the bow from his hand.
After a brief struggle Halbarad and Veandur had slain their attackers with sword and knife but could only watch in horror as both Aragorn and Legolas were borne away toward the alien campfire. The remainder of the people who had been sitting around it were now standing. Farther away from the fire was a group of tents from which poured many more of the beings, who all began running toward the rangers.
Halbarad realized it would be folly to try to fight so many, yet he was reluctant to leave Aragorn and Legolas behind. Conflicted and with pained heart, he grabbed Veandur's arm.
"Come on!" the ranger cried. He and Veandur ran for the horses.
II.
Elrohir rode hard to the west along the rocky, hilly terrain of the Ettenmoors. He had a feeling that his companions had gone too far east while looking for a place to ford the river and had thus missed the large band of strange creatures who had taken Legolas and Aragorn captive. He hoped that they were still alive and that either he or the rest of the search party Elrond had sent out from Rivendell would find them unhurt. The relentless staccato pounding of his horse's hooves was the only sound that could be heard in the vast wildnerness through which he traveled. Blue, pink and purple clouds were stretched across the western sky as the sun began to set. Birds of prey hovered high above the land. The wind had died down and the air was very still, smelling of damp earth and grass. Hopelessness never entered Elrohir's thoughts although he searched in a terrifyingly bleak and borderless land for a small group of people that he had never seen. It would have been a daunting task for even the most seasoned warrior, but was not daunting for someone of Elrohir's mettle.
It grew dark with the shadows of night closing in upon the hills. Elrohir brought his steed to a halt when he feared that he could not go further lest there be danger of falling down a hole or a gap among the rocks. Feeling frustrated because he would have liked to push on, he quickly unpacked his gear and tethered the horse to a nearby tree overlooking a stream. But instead of pitching his tent right away he sat down on a flat-topped rock, wrapped his cloak around his shoulders and brooded over the events of a few days before.
The rangers Halbarad and Veandur had arrived at his father's house with dire news about Aragorn and Legolas being attacked and borne away by strange creatures in the night. While Elrond, very angry, was more concerned about Aragorn because of his long-standing commitment to protect the man, Elrohir found himself more concerned for the elf, a close friend since childhood. It was a blow to hear about the abduction itself but he found that he became quite emotional when the thought that he might never see his old friend Legolas again crossed his mind. He had never thought much about it before. It was his way to consider every one of his relationships casual, but now the sudden realization that he might have lost someone close to him had hit him hard. It was different with other soldiers, friends of his who were also warriors and lost in battle. He didn't know why he felt this way. Perhaps it was because there was something heroic and honourable about dying in battle, but not in being abducted and killed while helpless to protect oneself.
Elrohir sighed, putting his thoughts aside for the time being, and began to pitch his tent when a light caught his eye, glimmering faintly atop a nearby hill. It flickered like fire. Elrohir dropped his tent pegs and advanced toward the light, sword and knives, bow and arrows ready. His brooding thoughts had affected his mood and he was angry and ready for battle. He ached to fight the creatures he hoped to find upon that hilltop.
Crouching low and creeping silently along the ground until he was at the foot of the hill, he stopped to listen. A low voice was speaking words he did not recognize. He inched forward, climbing up the hill on his belly toward the voice. When he was almost at the summit he stopped and listened carefully. The voice was speaking in an odd, staccato manner. Elrohir heard some of the same words being repeated over and over although he did not know the language being spoken. But the repetition made it sound like a chant, something ritualistic, and other voices joined in, singsong voices. A large thatch of grass provided a screen for him to peer through and he crept towards it to get a look at the creatures.
He could see a group of tall, thin, robed figures standing around a crackling bonfire. He could not see Aragorn or Legolas although he looked intently for them. Several of the robed figures were lifting stones and piling them in a mound off to one side of the fire. Others brought armfuls of kindling and set them on the ground at the base of the stone mound. There were fourteen figures altogether, Elrohir counted. He pulled two arrows from his quiver and set them both against his bowstring, holding their fletchings between three fingers. Legolas had btaught him how to do this and he hoped he could fell two of the creatures with one shot, reach back for two more arrows and kill two more and so on until all the rest rushed him, at which time he would finish off the remainder of these beings with his sword and knives. He had it all planned out in his mind, the bloodlust settling on him like a cloak of red.
He stood up, nocked the two arrows, took aim and let them fly. Two of the robed figures fell, arrows piercing their hearts. Elrohir quickly nocked two more arrows while more of the startled creatures looked for the source of the deadly shafts. Elrohir shot two more of the beings before seeing that the remainder had turned and were hopping away, trying to get down the hillside before his arrows could reach them. Quickly he realized that they hopped and did not run, and that they were able to move very quickly and efficiently, covering large distances between hops. One of them had grabbed a torch and was hopping down the hillside with it. Elrohir followed the creature. The figure darted amoung the boulders until it reached a cave entrance and disappeared inside.
Elrohir followed deep inside the caves, traversing the rocky ground carefully and silently. A long tunnel twisted its way through the area under the hill, continuing for many metres before it opened into a wide, spacious cavern. Elrohir smelled dampness and a stink of rot or something very foul - the reek of blood and dead flesh.
He spied the figure crossing to a torch on the wall, lighting it with the one it was carrying. Elrohir quickly hid behind a large rock and glanced around the cavernous space until his gaze fell upon a pale figure chained hand and foot to the opposite cave wall, its feet not far above the ground. Waiting until the robed figure turned its back to him and began fiddling with something - the sound of tin utensils clanking against each other filled the cave, affording a cover of noise - Elrohir advanced swiftly to stand behind the figure, affording it no chance to defend itself. The elf took it by the throat and squeezed it until it fell unconscious upon the ground before approaching the figure hanging upon the wall. He could see that its head hung down and that dirty, long blond hair fell over its face, obscuring its features. It was obviously a man - he was thin and naked, his ribs apparent through his fair skin. He was unconscious.
Elrohir reached up and cut the chains from the man's wrists with his sturdy knife. The limp body fell against his shoulder, where Elrohir let it lie until he could sever the chains from his feet. After the man was cut free, Elrohir laid him on the ground and brushed the hair from his face.
"Why, it is Legolas! What luck that I chanced to find you here." He tried to rouse his old friend by patting his cheeks. The prince of Mirkwood groaned softly but did not open his eyes. He seemed to be hurt but there were no visible wounds on his body although he was covered with dirt. Elrohir wrapped him in his cloak, lifted him up and carried him out of the cave the same way he had come in. When he reached his horse unseen, he carefully draped Legolas over its back before packing up the supplies he had left on the ground as well as the food and water he had brought from the cave. After leaping into the saddle he started riding hard to the southeast toward Rivendell.
III.
Eventually they reached a heavily wooded area where Elrohir decided to stop. He was worried about his old friend who had not yet awakened and wanted to take a closer look at him. However, it was well past nightfall with only a dim silvery light provided by the moon. When he reached a clearing in which the ground became more visible and the grass was soft beneath the horse's hooves, Elrohir stopped and dismounted. Carefully he lifted Legolas down and laid him on the ground. He shook his friend lightly by the shoulder. "Legolas!"
The Mirkwood prince opened his eyes and licked his dry lips, gazing questioningly at Elrohir, who had taken the flagon of water from his saddlebag and held it for his friend to take a sip. After emitting a series of dry coughs, Legolas spoke.
"I hurt everywhere," he said in a hoarse voice.
"I see no wounds upon you," Elrohir told him, "but you need to bathe. You are covered in grime and you smell bad."
Legolas coughed more.
"In the morning I will try to find a stream where you can wash. I am afraid you have no clothing but I suppose I can share some of mine with you. Sleep first, however, and then you can tell me what happened, and Aragorn's whereabouts because I did not find him in the cave in which I found you."
Legolas swallowed before clearing his throat. "I fought the creatures to the best of my ability but they overpowered me in the end, put me in chains and took me to the cave. Aragorn did not fight." At this he looked up at Elrohir with a look of confusion in his eyes. "Aragorn was trying to talk to them," Legolas continued, "though he did not know their language. I know not what they have done with him." He shook his head slowly, a sad, pained expression altering his usually smooth features.
"Did you discover anything about these creatures?" Elrohir asked. "I was not able to see them clearly."
"They are a different being from us," Legolas replied. "They are not elf or man but something else. Before they dragged me away Aragorn called out that he understood that they had something to do with the Witch-king of old, that they had been his creatures but rebelled against him and escaped - and that I was not to harm them."
"Well, I killed quite a few," Elrohir said. "Aragorn will not be pleased with me when next I see him. But they are creatures of the Witch-king of Angmar? The ruins of his old realm are almost the same distance from here as is Rivendell. I am torn between contining to search for Aragorn and taking you home."
"Rivendell..." Legolas spoke the name in a dreamy voice. "I should like to see it again, though I think we should make haste to find Aragorn. They may have taken him to their old home now that the Witch-king has abandoned it. We should look there."
"You will see Rivendell before anything else," Elrohir replied. "But we will need more men to form a hunting party. I am afraid I became separated from mine some days ago. In the morning we shall ride for my home and make great haste to reach it as soon as possible. Even though," he said with a grin, "I am not sure I fancy my father's wrath when I tell him that Aragorn is still missing and we know nothing about his safety."
"I can imagine your father's ire will be great," Legolas remarked, "but this does not worry me. I have faced my own father's wrath more times than I care to remember. Nothing can be worse than that."
Both elves managed to laugh at this before retiring for the night.
~~~
Legolas was right about Elrond's ire. He and Elrohir had arrived in Rivendell the night before after riding flat out for several days, stopping only to refresh their horses and take a bit of light refreshment themselves. Both elves stood in Master Elrond's vast library listening to what he had to say about their misadventure. While Legolas was accustomed to hearing lectures from his own father he felt embarrassed by Elrond's diatribe in which the Lord of Rivendell used words such as 'irresponsible' and 'foolhardy' several times, plus a few others that would have reddened the ears of many an elf of not the fortitude of the Prince of Mirkwood. He stood calmly, spine as straight as a poker, hands clasped behind his back, while staring at the glorious artwork adorning the high walls. His gaze wandered to the admirable architecture of the ceiling before drifting to shelf upon shelf of books themselves, ancient tomes as well as more modern literature, numbering in the thousands. The impressiveness of such a display of books was sadly lost upon Legolas, who was much more interested in the outdoors, riding, hunting and roaming about than in reading in the warm, cosy interior of Rivendell's library.
Presently Elrond finished his speech and dismissed his son along with Legolas. The two young elves exchanged glances once outside the doors and out of sight of Elrohir's father, trying desperately not to burst into laughter at some of the outrageous language the Lord of Rivendell had used.
"Do you fancy doing some hunting?" Elrohir asked.
"I think I have had enough of that for awhile," Legolas replied, "but I would love a swim in the river. I think the water might feel soothing to my limbs and the wounds that are still fresh upon my body."
Elrohir nodded and both elves found their way down to the Bruinen, disrobed and lowered themselves into its soothing waters. They bathed for awhile, refreshing themselves and before long they spied a small bedraggled party of what appeared to be rangers, trotting single file down the path that led toward the outpost. The two elves looked at each other, both thinking the same thing, before bounding out of the water, hastily getting into the clothes they had tossed carelessly onto the bank and dashing back to the house. There they found not only Halbarad and his men, but also Elladan and his troop of elves from whom Elrohir had become separated a fortnight since.
"Elladan!" His brother, delighted to see his twin, clasped him tightly around the shoulders and hugged him. "How did you fare?" Since he had eyes only for Elladan he had not noticed that behind the men trooping in the direction of Elrond's favourite meeting place, the library, was an uncharacteristically quiet Aragorn, head hanging low on his chest, ragged and dirty, both hands tightly folded in front of him. He did not appear injured, he was not limping, nor was he covered in blood, as Legolas had feared might be his state if he ever saw his friend again. Both elves shouted at the same time.
"Aragorn!"
The young man of twenty raised his head. His eyes were bleary as if he had not slept in many days, but apart from his unkempt and exhausted appearance, he seemed not to be in any distress.
"How do you fare? What happened to you? Are you all right?"
So many questions at once caused Aragorn to shake his head, bewilderment causing his usually alert eyes to glaze.
"Where is Master Elrond?" Halbarad spoke first, in his typically loud voice, used to shouting over large distances but echoing within the walls of the Last Homely House.
"In the direction you are going you will be sure to find my father in the library," Elrohir replied. "Come, we will accompany you. We would both love to hear your story."
It was quite an interesting one. After a bit of wine and cheese and a crust of freshly baked bread, Aragorn told his tale of being taken by the strange creatures they had come across on what was to be the long journey back to Angmar. He preferred to say 'accompanied' rather than 'taken' and 'strange people' rather than 'creatures'.
"Angmar!" Elrond exclaimed, aghast. "But you did not get as far as that. What happened along the way?"
It was a very lengthy story to relate but Aragorn did his best. It seemed that while the Witch-king had learned from Morgoth how to create evil beings from torturing and corrupting hapless elves who wandered into his kingdom, it happened that there were some poor souls who possessed much hardier constitutions than others, and these were the so-called creatures that Halbarad, Legolas and Aragorn had discovered upon their quest. They had not turned evil, far from it, Aragorn related. But their bodies had been maimed and twisted, some were missing limbs and all had been reduced to having only one leg which accounted for their odd hopping movements.
"They were only trying to get home," Aragorn said solemnly. "They wished no harm to anyone. They heard that the Witch-king had abandoned his realm and these poor people were merely trying to find a place to eke out an existence, far away from others who might condemn them as we almost did."
"I killed many of them," Elrohir admitted, his countenence grey with gloom, his bright eyes downcast. "I feel ashamed."
"But we did not know anything about them," Halbarad said, putting a comforting hand upon Elrohir's arm. "Most corrupted elves turned out to be orcs, the most evil of creatures in the wild. You were not to know that these people were different. After all, when we first found them they were in the act of butchering and eating their pet dog."
"Besides," Legolas interrupted. "They strung me up on a wall in that cave and were beating me. But I also had killed a few of them before they captured me. Perhaps that was the reason I was being punished. I could not understand the language they were speaking, nor them mine."
"We all have our rituals," Aragorn shrugged.
All eyes turned upon him. It was Elrond who spoke first. "How did you comunicate with these people?"
"I learned to speak their language," the young man admitted.
"So quickly?" Halbarad's eyes opened wide with surprise.
Aragorn shrugged and a fleeting smile crossed his lips before vanishing into the lines of exhaustion on his face. "It was easy."
Everyone exchanged glances at that but no one could find words to express their mixed feelings.
"Come," Elrond said finally. "You are in much need of rest and a bath would do wonders for your comfort before you retire. On the morrow we will discuss more about these unusual people and the strange adventure you have taken with them. I am much relieved that Halbarad and his rangers managed to find you before they had squired you too far away. My esteem for you and what I always believed you were capable of accomplishing has been renewed, Aragorn. Please sleep on that and we will talk on the morrow."
With that, men and elves retired, their journey of discovery at an end, at least for the moment.