I am very grateful to everyone who reviewed! It's been a few years since I've started a long story and it is extremely helpful to hear your thoughts on the way. I can't do this without you.
By the way, I think one of you forgot to sign in last time and didn't realize she was leaving a guest review. One of my anonymous reviewers sounded as if I was supposed to know who she was, and I do have a very strong suspicion, but wanted to make sure first. So if you didn't get a reply from me, you must have left a guest review. Let me know who you are if you'd like and I'll thank you properly.
Last time Sandy suggested that this chapter should start with a summary of the characters' last known whereabouts and who is free/missing/captive. I think this is a great idea since chapters are getting long, updates are not always fast, and things are getting confusing. So here is a recap in case you need it:
Aragorn and Faramir – we have last seen both of them held captives on the ship, which has now arrived in Umbar, so presumably they are kept as prisoners by Captain Gulbrand. Arwen and the others do not where exactly they were taken, but guess Umbar because of Gulbrand's involvement.
Arwen and baby daughter – in Minas Tirith, free. Aragorn and Faramir know nothing of their fate and fear they may be prisoners as well.
Legolas and Gimli – their ship is anchored a short distance away from Umbar. They are now getting on a horse and riding on. They are both free, but Aragorn believes Legolas is held captive or worse because of the braid (or at least that's what he believed before he took the drug)
Eldarion and Elboron – both free. We last saw them on the ship, which is now anchored near Umbar. Legolas and Gimli believe the boys are in Minas Tirith because they left before they were discovered missing. Until recently Arwen believed the boys were captive as well, but now has found a note from Eldarion, telling her of his plans so that she wouldn't worry. She is planning to send someone to find them. Again, Aragorn and Faramir are afraid they might be held captive as well.
Éowyn – missing. She was last seen in the houses of healing. We learned from Arwen that after some time there, Éowyn had gone out for a walk to get some fresh air, and no one has seen her since. She had not even seen Elboron awake. Arwen, Legolas, and the others believe she is recaptured. Aragorn and Faramir believe she is on the ship / in Umbar with them since she has been with Aragorn when he was taken, and they know nothing of the first rescue.
And now on to the (very long) chapter!
Chapter 6: All that Glitters
Merewine pulled against his chains, but it was of no use. For the umpteenth time the Rohirric youth cursed his stupidity in letting himself get captured. Three weeks on the road, and all his escape attempts had failed miserably. He had grown accustomed to travelling in close quarters with so many people, loaded on the cart like cattle. Men, women and children from all corners of Middle-earth, with hair pale as rye or brown as a nut, with skin of bronze or cream. Thirty-two of them, stuffed in a single closed cart. No breaks, except for food and water or to add another slave to the collection. After the fifth day, the need to gag at the stench had almost disappeared.
But now they had come to the end of their journey. Merewine watched in horror as the slave master entered the cart and pulled out a chained young woman. Altani, from the strange land of Rhûn, a few years older than him. She would fetch a hefty price, the Corsairs had said.
The young man listened in disgust as the slave trader praised the woman's qualities. A multitude of voices, shouting offers, fought for dominance for a while until a price was called that no one else could surpass. And then, Altani was sold. Like a cow. Like a bag of rice. Like a golden brooch. Merewine wanted to retch.
His horror only intensified when three men entered the cart and forcefully pulled him out. He blinked a few times against the light that assaulted his eyes. So, this was Umbar. He saw low white stone buildings with circular domes, high watchtowers and paved streets. A sturdy fortress guarded the city from attacks from the sea and a lighthouse stood high above everything to guide the ships home. No greenery, apart from a few lonely palm trees. Many ships with dark sails were anchored at the bay and among them were smaller fisher boats. And indeed, some distance away, he could see the fish market. Colourful tents to protect the traders from the harsh sun, and a multitude of fish, the likes of which he had never seen before, were put on display. But now he was in a different kind of market.
"Five golden coins!" A middle-aged Corsair yelled as soon as Merewine stepped on the platform.
"Five?" the slaver spat. "You must be jesting! Look at these muscles!" He raised Merewine's arm despite the young man's struggles. "And the lad has all his teeth too!" He tried to open the Rohirric captive's mouth to prove his point and was awarded by a fierce bite. The slaver slapped him forcefully. "And a spirited one too!"
"Hardly a desirable quality in a slave," an old woman said wisely.
"Eight!" called a man with a long, white beard.
"Fifteen!" cried an olive-skinned woman, dressed in a long red robe.
"Five hundred golden coins!"
The slaver's eyes widened and Merewine himself looked up in surprise. From the darkness of the cart he had heard what had happened in the market before and knew that the highest price reached today for another slave had been twenty.
The speaker was a young man, perhaps younger than Merewine himself. A white cloth was wrapped around his head to protect him from the harsh sun, and his light-coloured robes were waving in the wind. A hush had fallen over the marketplace after he had spoken and all eyes were turned at him now.
"Did I hear you correctly, my good sir?" the slaver asked, his voice nearly trembling with excitement. "Did you say five hundred?" The young man nodded wordlessly and the grin on the slaver's face looked about to split his face apart. He grabbed Merewine and led the chained man down the platform towards the buyer. The young stranger provided a large, heavy purse. "Count if you would like," he said.
The slaver looked about to do just that, but after a moment of hesitation gave it up. "I would never doubt your noble word, dear sir," he assured the buyer.
Merewine wanted to throw up. To have the word 'noble' thrown in to describe someone buying slaves!
"I have more slaves for sale if you are interested," the Corsair said.
Merewine's new owner shook his head. "I would love to do more business with you, my lord, but I have something else in mind. You are a man of a high social standing here, are you not?" The slaver nodded eagerly. "And you have connections in the highest of places?" Another nod. "I have a favour to ask of you then. If you deliver, my gratitude will be far greater than the price of a slave."
"I am listening," the slaver said eagerly.
"I must take you to my master first," the young man said. "He would wish to discuss this with you himself."
"Your master?" The slaver's demeanour changed in the blink of an eye and all respect drained from his voice. "So you are a s-"
"A sellsword," the youth supplied, before the other man could say 'slave'. "My master hired me to protect him on the journey here and back. But forgive my manners. I am called Andor. I will be happy to serve you, my lord."
The slaver shook Andor's hand, his previous affability returning. "And I am Ivar. I will be pleased to speak with your master. When and where does he wish to meet?"
"As soon as possible, my lord. My master will be very grateful if you could come with me right now. As to where, we are currently staying at "The Golden Fish". We should meet inside our room. My master wishes to deal with this matter discreetly and he wants to avoid unnecessary attention."
"Of course," Ivar said, not truly surprised. Umbar was filled with inns of questionable repute, but "The Golden Fish" was one of the few that offered clean and luxurious rooms for wealthy guests. It made sense that this mysterious master would be staying there. "I still have a few more slaves to sell. Let me talk to my assistants and ask them to finish the business for today, and will come with you right away."
Ivar walked back to the platform and Merewine glared at his new owner. "If you think I am going to serve you or your pig of a master, you are gravely mistaken! Kill me now, before I slit your throat in your sleep!"
"I expect nothing of the sort," Andor said. "Now be quiet, I am trying to think. I will talk more to you later."
Merewine was perplexed by the answer and surprisingly did as he was told. A moment later, Ivar returned. "Let us go, my good sir. I am eager to assist your master in any way I can."
Andor led the way along a network of streets so narrow that a cart could not go through. At long last, they reached a large square. There was a fountain in the middle and a few palm trees were lazily reaching out with their branches towards the water. A high white building was in front of them, with the sign "The Golden Fish" and a little figure of a fish made of solid gold.
They entered and walked up the stairs to the second floor. A large oaken door framed with gold stood before them. Andor knocked. "Your guest is here, Your Highness," he said loudly. "Shall I invite him in?"
Merewine gasped, a multitude of questions overwhelming his mind. Your Highness? There was no abundance of royal families in Middle-earth, and he could not imagine any of their members dealing with slavers. A quick look at Ivar's face told him that the Corsair was no less surprised.
An affirmative answer was heard and the trio walked in. As Merewine stepped inside the spacious chambers, his eyes widened. Normally, he would have found the idea of braiding jewels and golden chains in a beard ridiculous, but they somehow suited the being in front of him and made him look majestic and dignified.
"My Lord Ivar," Andor said solemnly. "It is my honour to introduce you to Thorin III Stonehelm, King under the Mountain."
-:-
Eldarion knelt by the Anduin to refill his water skin. They had been walking for hours, and there was still no sign of any human settlement, let alone the large and busy harbour of Umbar.
"This is our last apple pie," he heard Elboron's unhappy voice. "We need to find more food soon."
"We could try to catch some fish," Eldarion suggested as he stood up and turned around. "Or we could try some wild fruits and vegetables."
"I would rather starve than eat vegetables!" Elboron declared passionately. "But these berries here look good!"
He rushed to a bush and knelt down, picking the small, red berries.
"I would not eat these if I were you," a voice behind them said and the two boys jumped.
Eldarion quickly turned around, his hand going around the hilt of a dagger he had grabbed from the armoury before leaving. A tall man was standing before them, looking at them with bright eyes underneath his heavy hood. It concealed most of his features, but the boys could see a long, light chestnut beard.
"And what would two children be doing all alone in the wilderness, with no parent in sight?" the stranger asked.
"We are no children," Eldarion declared. "We are travelling south and the business is our own. If you mean us no harm, we shall not harm you in return."
"If I meant you harm, I would have let you eat those berries," the man said. "All I want is to invite you to have supper with me. Then I will give you enough food for the rest of your journey and you can be on your way."
The boys exchanged a look. "I could use some food," Elboron whispered.
"We cannot trust him," Eldarion whispered back. "What would a lone man be doing so close to Umbar? He has to be a Corsair. And some of these people deal in slave trade. What if he wants to capture and sell us?"
Elboron sighed unhappily. "You are right of course. I suppose it is better to survive the rest of our journey on raw fish, than to end up as slaves."
Eldarion turned back to the stranger and said in a loud, clear voice. "Thank you for your kind offer, but we have decided to decline it. We have a long road ahead of us, and we cannot tarry."
"But my dear boy," the man said with a benign smile. "Whatever gave you the idea that the decision was yours to make?"
-:-
Merewine blinked of few times, not sure if he was dreaming. So this was Thorin, son of Dáin? After Dáin II Ironfoot had fallen at the Battle of Dale, his son had inherited the throne and had done commendable work in rebuilding Erebor and Dale, working together with both King Elessar, and Merewine's own liege, King Éomer. "Never would I have thought that the King under the Mountain would fall so low as to buy slaves!" he spat and Ivar turned around and slapped him.
"Be quiet, you fool! Have you any idea whom you are speaking to?" Ivar looked back at Thorin. "Although I admit that I am surprised as well, Your Highness. I have not heard of the Dwarves of the Lonely Mountain dealing with slaves. Not that I find anything wrong with it, mind you! On the contrary, I find it rather progressive."
"One of our oarsmen died of fever on our way south," the dwarven king replied calmly. "I was planning to hire someone to replace him, but then Andor suggested to me that buying a slave was a better long-term investment. We dwarves know the price of gold."
Merewine frowned. The young sellsword had bought him for an unheard of price. How long would it take him to return the investment? But then, he understood. Andor had not paid so much because he placed a high value on him or because he wished to have him at all costs. The young man had offered that price because he had wanted to get the slaver's attention and to be able to lead Ivar here, for whatever reason.
"Yet, you have travelled all the way here for something other than gold I imagine."
"I see you are an intelligent man," the king said. "Tell me something, friend. Do you have the confidence of Captain Gulbrand? Do you have the freedom to speak to him whenever you desire?"
The slaver beamed. "I have the honour to know the Captain very well. We have often done business together and he listens to my word."
"This is very good to hear," the dwarf said. "I am hoping to make your Captain my ally."
"Ally?" Ivar's tone was edged with surprise. "Ally against…?"
"Gondor," Thorin replied. "And, more specifically, this so-called king of theirs."
"You, treacherous snake!" Merewine cried and Ivar turned around and slapped him once again.
"I would advise you to take this one to the whip as soon as you can," Ivar said. "He is not yet broken and might cause trouble before he is taught some manners. But forgive me, my lord, your words surprise me. I believed King Elessar was your friend and ally."
"I believed so too," Thorin said bitterly. "But a few months ago I had a meeting with him and he said and did something that gravely insulted me and my family. You must know that we dwarves are a proud people. Such insolence cannot be tolerated. Then I swore I would make him pay. Elessar does not yet know that I have broken trust with him, which gives me an advantage. I hope that your Captain will agree to aid me against Gondor."
A grin slowly spread across Ivar's face. "Then it would please you to learn that Captain Gulbrand holds Elessar as a prisoner as we speak."
Merewine felt his heart stop beating. This was news to him, and it filled his heart with dread and anger, but he forced himself to listen quietly and learn as much as he could. Perhaps he was bought by this man for a reason. Perhaps he would be given the chance to stop whatever treachery was afoot.
"This is grand news, indeed!" the dwarven king cried. "How was this accomplished? And what does your Captain plan to do with him?"
"How this was accomplished is a long story," Ivar said, seemingly pleased at the other's enthusiasm. "But I can tell you that it is a part of a bigger plan. The Captain is planning to place Edric, his paramour's son, on the Steward's throne, after the King is gone. The boy has some claim, it seems, and now we are working on clearing the way for him. The Steward is kept captive as well."
"If you are working on clearing the way, do you also have their families?" Andor asked. "Their wives and children?"
"Not yet," Ivar admitted. "But we are far from giving up."
"Well, we can help with that!" Thorin said. "Elessar's family trusts me and mine explicitly. I can send my people to Minas Tirith for a visit and no one will suspect them."
"This is very good," Ivar said satisfied. "I am certain Captain Gulbrand will be very grateful for your help."
"And what does your captain plan to do with the King for now?" asked Andor.
"Well, first we need to make him recognize Edric's claim. And after this is done, my Captain plans to cut his head off and put in on a spear before his mansion's gates."
"And how does he plan to… to persuade the King to recognize the boy's claim?" Andor asked and there was a strange tremor in his voice.
To Merewine's horror, Ivar started to chuckle. "Oh, it is quite amusing really," the Corsair said.
"Amusing?" Andor choked.
Ivar could not stop his mad giggles. "Oh, you should see it, I am sure you will enjoy this, my Lord Thorin, after the offence you suffered. The king has practically lost his mind!"
"What- what do you mean?" the young sellsword asked as Merewine felt his heart sink.
"He has been kept on a strong drug for the last few days," the slaver explained cheerfully. "It causes powerful hallucinations and weakens the mind. Edric's brother and sister have him wrapped around their little fingers. He trusts them completely and believes them to be his saviours and protectors. I would not be surprised if at the end they take him by the hand and lead him to the executioner and ask him to put his head on the block, and he complies with a smile on his face and trust in his heart."
Merewine felt tears prick at his eyes and he wanted nothing more than to wipe the grin off Ivar's face with his fist. His heart ached at the thought of what had befallen this noble man. For him Lord Aragorn was much more than King Elessar. He was the Ranger who had fought with them at Helm's Deep, under pouring rain and mounting despair. He was the man who had knelt before a terrified, wide-eyed ten-year-old boy and instructed him in the art of sword fighting. The lesson had saved Merewine's life that night, and many nights since.
"You seem to be doing very well on your own," Thorin said, and Merewine wondered if he had imagined the hard edge that had suddenly appeared in the dwarf's voice. "But I am certain the Captain can use my aid. I ask you to arrange a meeting with your Captain. I will send Andor to meet with him in my stead. As you can imagine, I tend to attract a lot of stares, and I prefer to keep my involvement in this a secret for as long as possible. Take this as an advance payment for your service."
Ivar took the bag with shaking hands. He took out a golden coin and instinctively sank his teeth into the metal to test it. The moment he did it, he seemed to realize that he could offend his benefactor, who had given him no reasons for doubt. "Forgive me, Your Highness," he quickly said. "Please do not think I do not trust you. This habit has become a second nature to me. A man of my profession quickly learns that all that glitters is not gold."
"And yet, a man of your profession never learns that all that is gold does not glitter," Andor said, his voice low and tense.
Ivar looked at him confused, pondering the meaning of the words, but the dwarven king drew the attention back to himself. "When do you believe we can have a meeting?"
"I will go to Captain Gulbrand right away, my lord," the slaver promised. "I am sure he will receive me immediately. He will send someone to lead your man to the mansion whenever he has time for an audience, but I am certain he will make the time once he hears what this is about."
"You have our gratitude," the dwarf said. "Now please hurry. I am very impatient to hear your Captain's views on my proposal.
The slaver bowed low, wished his companions a pleasant day and left the room. As the sound of his footsteps died away, Andor gave out a raw cry, grabbed a wooden chair and threw it against the door. Then he collapsed to his knees, face buried in his hands.
"Hold it together, laddie," the dwarven king said. "I myself wanted nothing more than to wring his neck with my bare hands, but we need to keep this up for a little longer."
Merewine looked from one to the other, his confusion growing by the minute. Andor raised a tear-streaked face and stared at the slave, looking as if he was seeing the man for the first time.
"Forgive me, my friend," he said, jumping back to his feet. "You are a free man now. I only regret we cannot help all the poor souls sharing your fate." He unlocked Merewine's shackles and handed him a glass of water. "I will ask for food and bathing water to be brought to you. Once you are refreshed, we will give you a horse and you should ride up the Anduin until you see a Gondorian ship. Ask for Captain Nemirion. Tell him that Legolas sends you and tell him your story. You can wait on the ship until our return, and sail back to Minas Tirith with us and then ride back to your homeland."
But Merewine had stopped listening some time ago. "Le- Legolas?" he stammered, his throat tight. Pieces of a broken puzzle were coming together in his mind and he felt lightheaded. "You must be Master Gimli then!" He turned wide eyes towards the dwarf whom he had believed to be the King under the Mountain. "My lords, forgive me! I saw you only from afar at Helm's Deep and I could not recognize your faces, but I still remember the hope you inspired in our hearts and everything you did for my people. You are here to rescue Lord Aragorn then?" He felt to his knees, grabbing Legolas's hands and kissing them over and over again. "Bless you, bless you, my lords! I am so relieved you are here."
Legolas pulled him up and gazed sadly at his eyes. "Yes, we are here to help, and the sooner, the better. That filth's words filled my heart with dread. I wish I could rush to that prison right now, but we are in enemy territory and need to be careful."
"Let me help you!" Merewine said eagerly. "I owe Lord Aragorn much more than my life. I would do anything for him."
The elf smiled, his eyes brimming with tears. "Thank you, my friend, but this will be dangerous, and you are still young. This is not your fight. I know you wish to be of help, but we can manage on our own."
"Do not send me away!" the Rohirric man pleaded.
"Let the lad help, Legolas," Gimli said. "My boy, you can in fact be very useful. I admit I am very afraid to let the elf go to that terrible place on his own. I wished to go with him, but even though an elf can pass as a man, a dwarf cannot, and I am bound to attract attention. These wretched twins and a few of the Corsairs have already seen both me and Legolas and will recognize us easily, but if he goes by himself in this disguise, it will be easier for him to blend in and avoid them. But now, you could go with him."
"Gimli, no!" the elf protested, but the dwarf shook his head.
"Hear me out, my friend. In the Corsair's eyes, the lad is our slave now. Having him go with you is not only not suspicious; it is what they would expect. On the contrary, if the boy suddenly disappears, they might wonder and ask questions. And if he goes with you, he can keep an eye on you and also come to me with messages. We have no one else that we can trust."
Legolas sighed in defeat. "Very well, but you must promise to be careful."
"I promise," Merewine said eagerly.
"There is another matter," the elf said. "I asked that piece of thrash about Aragorn's and Faramir's wives and children because I was fishing for information about Éowyn. He claimed that they had none of the other family members, and if they did, he would not have hesitated to brag about it."
"And even if she had been captured later and sent on another ship, she should have arrived here by now," Gimli said thoughtfully. "It looks like they do not have her."
"This is very good of course," said Legolas. "But where is she?"
-:-
Aragorn lay on the hard cot, listening to his heart's mad race. Some time ago he had awoken from another ghastly nightmare, and now he stared at the dark ceiling, wondering what part of what he had seen had been a false vision, and what had truly happened. The images were always so vivid, so real, that most often it was impossible to tell dream from reality. Whether this was an effect of the snake poison, he did not know, but it scared him. His memories were in disarray, and he was not even certain what had happened the day before. But if he could not trust even his own mind, what was he to trust?
He tried to raise a hand and rub his eyes, but even that simple movement proved too much for him and he weakly let it fall back on the cot. Thankfully, Frea and Algar had been with him most of the times he had awoken, and they were always willing to answer his questions and reassure him. Last time Algar had explained that Eldarion had returned to Minas Tirith together with Legolas and a few of the guards, while Aragorn had remained in their hut to recover. Some of the royal guards had stayed as well, but they were now out hunting to replenish their supplies.
To be honest, Aragorn was surprised that Legolas had returned to Minas Tirith, leaving him alone in his present condition. Deep in his heart he was glad – Eldarion must have been terrified after the snake attack and he must have needed a good friend to accompany him back home. If Aragorn had been given the choice, he would have surely asked his friend to go with his son. However, Aragorn was never given a choice in this matter, and he was rather surprised the elf had made this decision on his own. This confused him and as much as he hated to admit it even to himself, in the past few days he had often wished for his friend's company.
But he was not ungrateful. Legolas was not here, and neither were Arwen and Eldarion, but Frea and Algar were good to him. In fact, the twins were wonderful. Algar was a gifted fighter, as he had already proven in his encounter with the snake, and Frea was a skilled healer. They were both so kind, so loyal, so dedicated. So good.
Too good.
Too good to be true.
Aragorn blinked in surprise. He did not know where the thought had come from, but all of a sudden he could see Legolas's face, the elf's eyes intense, warning him of a brother and a sister and their intentions. But as he struggled to remember more, his head spun and he coughed violently in a need to retch.
It was probably a figment of his imagination, he thought, just like so much else. Once again, Aragorn tried to lift his hand and rub at his eyes. Surprisingly, this time he succeeded. But even before he had brought his hand anywhere near his face, he gave out a cry and let it drop back down.
If everything Algar had said was true, then why was Legolas's braid tied around his wrist?
-:-
"This is a very good plan," Captain Gulbrand said. "Yes, I believe it will succeed. And you ask for nothing in return?"
"The King of Gondor dealt a great offence to my master," Legolas said evenly. "To have him fallen from grace and replaced by this boy of yours is the perfect revenge. My employer desires nothing more."
"Very well. Now if you excuse me, I have something else to attend to. We can continue our discussion tomorrow, and I am certain Tyra will also want to join us and hear more on this. Do you wish to return to "The Golden Fish" for the night, or would you require a chamber in my mansion?"
"I will return to the inn," said Legolas. "My master would want to hear the news. But first, there is something else I would ask of you."
"So far you have offered a lot and asked for little," Gulbrand said. "Speak freely."
"You said that you have the King and the Steward. I would like to see them."
Gulbrand frowned. "You doubt my word?"
"Not at all," the elf assured him. "But Ivar told us of the king's condition, and it brought my master great satisfaction to hear that the man who had wronged him had fallen so low. He would be delighted to hear my own account on what I have seen."
"Very well," the Captain agreed. "But you will not be allowed to see the King while he is awake. Algar and Frea have somehow managed to convince him that he is in their hut, recovering from a snake bite, and if he sees a stranger, they would need to explain your presence there. But for some parts of the day he is heavily drugged and kept in a deep, nightmare-filled sleep. It is impossible to wake him while he is in this state, so if this is the case now, there is no problem to visit him and take a look. You have to check first with the guards though."
Legolas briefly met Merewine's gaze. The young man was as pale as he must have been.
Hold it together, laddie. We need to keep this up for a little longer, Gimli had said. But Gimli was not here now.
"And what of the Steward?" he forced himself to say.
"We are playing no mind games with him, so you can visit him at any time. For the moment we are keeping him alive to use him as a possible leverage against the King if our current plan fails, but he will also die as soon as we have the signed decree. Tallak will show you to the dungeons."
Legolas and Merewine followed the guard downstairs. Tallak asked them to wait in front of the massive metal door and returned with news. "The King is drugged and sleeping now," he said. "You may see him."
The elf briefly considered overpowering the man, taking his keys and rescuing Aragorn then and there. Unfortunately, he knew he could never leave the building with guards everywhere, and it would also put Faramir in danger. They needed a better plan, and tonight he was only going to gather information. He sincerely hoped that whatever he was going to find would not break his resolve.
They followed Tallak down a dark corridor and stopped by the door at the very end. "Are Algar and Frea inside with him now?" Legolas asked, hoping his fear did not show in the question.
"Oh no, the prisoner is in a deep sleep now, so it would be a waste of time," Tallak replied. "They only go to him shortly before he is expected to awake. And even then they sometimes leave him alone. The fear of waking up alone mixed with the comfort of waking up to their presence will accelerate the breaking of his mind, my friend Jarl says."
Hold it together, hold it together, hold it together…
The door opened with a crack and Legolas reached out to the doorframe to steady himself. A few candles cast a sickly glow across the room, but the light was more than enough for his elven eyes to perceive everything. On a cot in the corner lay Aragorn. The man was very pale and drawn and looked as if he had lost weight. His wrist was swollen and a bandage was winded across his lower ribs. His head was weakly turning from side to side, his lips moving as if he was speaking, and his face was twisted into a grimace of distress. But there was something else that stole the elf's breath.
Legolas's hand went instinctively to the side of his head, where his braid had once been. How had it ended up around his friend's wrist? Aragorn's hands were crossed over his stomach and his other hand was clutching at the braid, as if holding to a lifeline. The sight broke the elf's heart.
"As you can see, there are no chains as we are trying to maintain the pretence that he is not a prisoner," Tallak explained matter-of-factly. "And there is no need for them anyway. He is too weak to move. We give him only as much food and water as he needs to survive, and not a bit more. The drug and his blood loss are weakening him even further."
And once I smash your head against the wall, you will weaken even more yourself, you filth! Legolas bit his lower lip and took several deep and slow breaths, trying to regain control over himself.
"Legolas!" The tortured cry tore from the sleeping man's lungs and the elf took an instinctive step forward. It was all he could do not to rush to his friend's side. But he could not stop the tears in his eyes or the huge lump in his throat.
A loud gasp from the door made him look around. "Master, I saw someone running!" Merewine cried, looking very agitated. "It is dark and all, but he looked a bit like Lord Faramir! I have seen him once when he came to Edoras. He ran that way!"
Tallak seemed confused, looking from the door and then back to the sleeping prisoner. "Go!" Legolas called at him. "You should investigate this. I will stay here and make sure nothing strange happens."
Once Tallak disappeared, Legolas threw the Rohirric man a look of immense gratitude. The slave would probably be punished once this was discovered to be a false alarm, but Legolas hoped he could use his newfound position to protect him. But for now, the man had granted him a few precious moments with his friend, and he did not plan to lose a single one.
Legolas rushed forward and collapsed on his knees next to the bed. Trembling, he cradled his friend's head in one arm and held the man's cold hands with the other. "Estel! Estel, please wake up, my friend!" he whispered urgently. "You walk in a realm of darkness, but none of it is real! Listen to my voice! Come back to us!"
But Aragorn made no sign to have heard him and the elf felt tears roll down his cheeks. "I know you cannot wake now, dear friend, but please know this – there is nothing to fear. I am here, I am here now. I will not let them hurt you again. I will find a way to get you out if this, no matter what it may cost me, I swear! Do you hear me, Estel? I will not abandon you here!"
No reaction awarded his words and Legolas could no longer suppress a ragged sob.
"My lord!" Merewine called urgently. "He is coming back!"
"I am so sorry, Aragorn," the elf said, seemingly ignoring the man's warning. "I am sorry I cannot take you out of here right now. But we must be patient, my friend, and we must be strong. I will not make you wait for me for long."
"My lord, hurry!"
Legolas bent down and rested his forehead against his friend's hair. "I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry! But I will be back soon, I promise!"
"Legolas!" there was panic in Merewine's voice now.
Legolas reached for his knife.
-:-
Pieces of sharp broken glass were spread around her sandaled feet, but Tyra did not seem to notice. All she could do was stare at her unexpected guest, her face pale.
"My lady?" she choked. "How did you come here? And how did you know where to find me?"
Éowyn nodded towards her left, and only then Tyra noticed there was someone else sitting on the bed. "After I was saved from capture and awoke from the drug, I went outside to get some fresh air," the lady said softly. "This is when I met Edric. It was a chance meeting, but I recognized him immediately. For a long time he denied to be who I thought he was, but at the end I persuaded him to take me to you."
"You little fool!" Tyra turned furious eyes at her youngest son. "Have you any idea what you have done?"
"Mother, I have done nothing wrong," the raven-haired boy replied smoothly. "She comes alone and unarmed and gave me her word that she only wishes to talk to you. She poses no threat. I knew the second ship Captain Gulbrand had sent had probably not yet departed, and I thought we might as well take it."
"And she paid you handsomely no doubt?" Tyra said bitterly.
"Well, yes, she did," Edric admitted sheepishly. "But this is irrelevant. I brought her here only because she promised she meant no harm. I would never betray you, and you know it. Trust me, she is no danger to you."
"I know she is no danger to me, you imbecile!"
"Then why-?"
Éowyn smiled sadly. "Edric, your mother is upset because now I have seen everything and know for certain about her and your involvement in this plot. She can never place you on the throne while I still live. She has to either abandon her plan or kill me, or perhaps keep me as a prisoner here forever."
"There is no need to explain everything to him, my lady, it is about time he learned you use this brain of his," Tyra said angrily. "When he was a small child, Lord Denethor would send the best of tutors for him, but it looks like nothing has sunk in."
"Mother, this is not my fault," Edric protested. "Lady Éowyn had already guessed our involvement, and she believed in it, whether she had any proof or not."
"Get out!" Tyra said angrily. "I will talk to you later. And speak no word of this to anyone, do you hear me? Not even to your brother and sister. Come up with some story in case anyone asks why you are not in Minas Tirith. And find the Corsairs who were on that ship and saw the lady. Make certain they keep quiet as well."
When Edric had left, Tyra turned back towards Éowyn. She gazed at the lady's swollen belly in compassion. The baby would not be long in coming now, she could see. Tyra had last given birth sixteen years ago, but she still remembered the last days of pregnancy and knew that for the lady to undertake this journey in her current condition was no small feat.
"You must be tired," Tyra said and reached towards the bowl of grapes on her table. "Please, have some refreshments. I will arrange for more food to be sent to you; you have but to say what you desire."
Éowyn's eyes were hard. "You try to murder me and my child, and now you offer me food?"
Tyra blanched. "Forgive me, my lady. I never wanted any harm to come to you. I never planned to have you involved in this."
Éowyn stared at her in disbelief. "Your plan was to capture my son and husband. In what way am I not involved?"
The older woman's eyes filled with pain. "Why have you come, Lady Éowyn? What were you hoping to achieve?"
"You know why I have come. I came to ask you to release my husband and the King."
"You know I cannot do that."
"You mean to continue with this plan then? You still mean to try to place Edric on the throne?"
"This is the only way for me," Tyra said. "I will never give up."
"I suppose you have to kill me then," Éowyn said evenly and looked the other woman in the eyes.
Tyra started pacing back and forth. "Why are you doing this? Why are you forcing this upon me?"
Éowyn stood up in spite of the strain her heavy belly was putting on her back. "You told me once that my friendship meant a lot to you. You told me my respect for you was worth more than the greatest treasures. Did you mean any of this?"
"Of course I did!" Tyra cried. "I still do."
"You know very well that not a trace of this respect will be left unless you let my husband and the King go in peace. Is that Steward's throne so important for you? More important than a friendship you claim to value?"
Tyra collapsed in a stuffed armchair, burying her head in her hands. When she did not respond, Éowyn continued. "And why would you want the Steward's throne anyway? Is your life lacking in anything without it? Your children are skilled and intelligent; they can easily find good work. And you, you have all this!" The lady gestured around the spacious, luxurious chambers. "I am married to the Steward of Gondor, and my own quarters are more modest than this! What more do you want?"
Tyra looked up, a haunted expression in her eyes. "I have all this, you say," she uttered bitterly. "You see the feather bed I sleep in, you see the silken sheets, the heavy drapes, the jewelry, the rich clothes. You see the large mirror with a frame of solid gold, you see the heavy carpets covering the floor and the stunning tapestries on the walls. You see the slaves that come to bring me food, to bathe me, to massage me and cover me in fragrant oils and perfumes. You see this and you think that it belongs to me. But none of it does."
She looked through the window and stared at the busy city far below. "These rooms, the furniture, the clothes – it all belongs to Gulbrand. I can use them now, but for how long? Sooner or later I will grow old, and perhaps even sooner he will tire of my company and cast me aside, like so many have done before, and then I will be back in the dirt, back to wondering if I would have enough bread to survive the next week. You ask what I want," Tyra turned back towards Éowyn and swept her arm across the room. "I want this. Not all of it perhaps. A half would be enough, maybe even a tenth. But I want it to belong to me, not to some man who will use me for a year or two and throw me away afterwards."
For a moment, Éowyn appeared stunned, unsure what to say. "Can you not make this man, Gulbrand, marry you?" she suggested at last. "That way your future would be secured and you would be provided for when you grow older, even if he takes another lover."
Tyra laughed bitterly. "This is not how my relationship with Gulbrand works. He will not marry me, no, and even if he does, it will not stop him from discarding me and sending me away if he sees it fit. No, my lady, my future is not any more secure than that of a slave. Often, I feel like one. I have to be on constant alert, to wear a mask all the time, to make sure I always make Gulbrand happy, because if I do not, I am done for. And no one ever spares a thought about making me happy. I feel as if I am walking on eggshells – one false step and all falls apart. True, I do have some small measure of influence over Gulbrand and his decisions. But I cannot make him do something unless I can persuade him that it is in his best interest. He would never do anything just for my sake. And this is why he must not find out you are here," she added, her voice filled with distress. "I cannot protect you from him. He would wish to either kill you and your child, or torture you in front of the King to make him give in to our demands. No, we need to keep you hidden from him. And I cannot let you go back to Gondor. Ah, my lady, why did you put me in this position?"
"What do you intend to do with me?" Éowyn asked.
"I have no idea," Tyra admitted. "I have no idea at all." She walked towards the door and cracked it open. To her surprise, Edric was outside, leaning on the wall and munching on an apple, not a trace of care on his youthful face."
"You are still here?"
"Of course, Mother, I thought you might have need of me."
"I do," Tyra said, keeping her voice low. "Find four of the Corsairs that already know that lady Éowyn is here and bring them to me."
"Tyra, I am very sorry," Éowyn said softly once the door closed. "I know you must be feeling powerless and insecure and you want to do everything you can to prevent your children from facing the same trials you did. But hurting innocents is not the way to do it. Your men drugged me! Even now I do not know if my child will be born healthy, and the terror of what might be tears my heart apart! And they drugged Lady Arwen's baby! A baby, Tyra!"
"A baby, who will grow up to be like everyone else," the older woman said bitterly. "Innocents you call them, but these children will grow up to be one of them. Of all the people who despise me and laugh at me, and are ready to step on me to go on their way."
"Not all people are like that," Éowyn protested. "And certainly not the Queen's children, or mine."
"I have met many men and women in my life," Tyra said. "And all of them have been like this, apart from one. Apart from you."
"You are being unfair," said Éowyn. "The King and Queen you are trying to hurt are two of the kindest people I know, and I am certain they would have treated you well if you had given them the chance. And if you had met Faramir under different circumstances-"
"Do not speak to me of Faramir!" Tyra cried. "I have rarely been so humiliated in my life. As much as I respect you, my lady, you have a poor taste in husbands."
"I have to disagree here," Éowyn replied evenly. "My husband is the greatest man I know."
A knock on the door interrupted them, and Tyra invited the Corsairs in. "Take Lady Éowyn to the guest chambers in the South Wing," she instructed. "Make sure she lacks nothing, but also make sure she is guarded at all times and does not leave her quarters." She approached the men, her voice dropping to a mere whisper. "No word of this must reach Captain Gulbrand or anyone else." She handed each of them a bag of gold to ensure their compliance.
One of the Corsairs grinned. "You expect us to lie to our Captain in exchange for some gold? Surely you must understand that our loyalty is stronger than this."
All the others nodded in eager agreement and Tyra felt a wave of revulsion wash over her, as the implications of the man's words hit her. Éowyn must have understood the hidden meaning as well for her eyes widened and she shook her head in warning, her lips forming a silent 'No'.
Tyra ignored the lady and forced herself to smile. "Very well," she said, fighting the urge to retch. "If you keep quiet about this, I will pay you with more than gold."
-:-
Faramir looked up in terror as the door cracked open and tried to stand up. He was sitting on the cold stone floor, his hands and feet chained to the wall. His chains allowed him some movement, so he was able to eat by himself, but he could not fully stand or walk around.
He breathed a sigh of relief when he caught a glimpse of a long white beard in the darkness. Many of the guards were cruel to him, and others were indifferent, but a few were actually kind, and Stigr was one of them. The old man had explained that not all of his fellow guards were cruel by nature, but they all hated Gondor with a passion. But most of all they despised King Elessar for the old still remembered, and the young had heard tales of Captain Thorongil and the devastation he had brought upon their shores.
"I am bringing you food, lad," the old man said. "As well as some tidings."
Faramir's eyes brightened. "What news? The King? How does he fare? And my wife? Is she here?"
Stigr shook his head sadly. "You know I am not allowed to tell you anything about this, son. As for the news, I fear you are not going to like it."
The Steward's heart sank. What could be worse than all that had happened lately?
"Captain Gulbrand had a strange visitor an hour ago," Stigr said. "The Captain had a meeting with some of us afterwards and explained what was happening. We were told that the King of the Lonely Mountain was here in Umbar, and had sent an envoy to talk to us. It looks like the King wants to form an alliance with us against Gondor."
"This is nonsense!" Faramir said determinedly. "King Thorin is a good friend and ally. I do not know what your game is, but I will not play along. There is nothing you can say that will make me believe you."
"I am sorry, lad, but this is how things are. The envoy himself is coming to see you as we speak. I wanted to warn you in advance."
The older man left once again, locking the door behind him. Soon, Faramir heard his voice coming from outside. "Tallak! You look winded, my boy! What has happened to you?"
"This blockheaded slave led me on a merry chase," another voice grumbled.
"I did see something, my lord!" another protested. His words were immediately followed by the sound of a forceful slap.
"How dare you speak to your betters like that!" the previous voice cried.
"Enough! He is my slave, and I will punish him for today, that I assure you. But for now, there are more pressing matters."
Faramir froze. That last voice… was he imagining things? Surely this was just his tormented mind playing tricks on him? And yet, the voice had given him warning enough, so that when Legolas walked into his cell, his golden hair and pointed ears hidden underneath a cloth and loose robes masking his slender figure, he did not let his surprise and utter joy show on his face.
"So this is your so-called envoy?" he said instead. "And you expect me to believe that he is here on behalf of the King under the Mountain? I do not know how naïve you believe me to be, but I will not listen to your lies."
"Nobody asks you to listen to anything," Legolas said. "I have not come to speak to the likes of you." He turned towards the guards. "He is in a better condition than the King, I see."
Faramir held his breath. He knew what Legolas was doing. The elf must have felt that he was desperate to hear any news of Aragorn. So the King lived and Legolas had seen him! His heart sank at the knowledge that Aragorn was faring worse than him, but he was grateful that Legolas had told him the truth. He had wanted and needed to know.
"Then why have you come?" he cried angrily. "Only to see me? Am I some strange animal in a cage to be ogled at?"
Legolas sighed. "How you listen to these ramblings all day is beyond me. And why do you keep him alive anyway? My master and I will help you capture his wife and children, and then you will have enough hostages to use against the King."
Faramir's heart soared. Éowyn and Elboron were not captives then! He shot Legolas a grateful look and the elf gave him a small smile in return.
"Whether we keep him alive or not is Captain Gulbrand's decision, not yours!" Stigr said, irritated.
"Peace, my good man!" said Legolas. "Your Captain knows best and I do not presume to give him unwanted advice. I am very pleased with what I have seen today. My visit is over. I need to send my slave back to "The Golden Fish" now; my master will be anxious for news."
"I thought you would be going back there yourself," Tallak said.
"I changed my mind," said Legolas. "I will stay here tonight. I bid you goodnight, Master Stigr. Take good care of your prisoner."
Legolas, Tallak and Merewine walked out of the cell, leaving Faramir and the other guard behind. "If you are staying here, I should better inform the Captain and find you some accommodations. Please, wait for me in the great hall. I will be there shortly," Tallak said and hurried towards the staircase.
Once he was gone, Merewine turned worried eyes at the elf. "Master Gimli will not be pleased to hear you are staying here for the night! This is madness, my lord! The twins and some of the Corsairs have seen you and can recognize you! You have to stay in this place as little as possible."
"Stop with this, 'my lord'," the elf said. "We are all friends here, and there is no one around."
"Legolas," Merewine tried again. "You know it is too dangerous to stay here any longer than necessary. We will come back tomorrow, but until then I beg you, let us return to the inn. Or do you have some plan you may act on tonight?"
"I have no plan," Legolas admitted. "But now that I have seen Aragorn and Faramir, I wish to stay close to them. I cannot go back to the inn, while they are kept here. You will go back to Gimli and tell him the news."
"And have him rip my head off for letting you stay," the young man said unhappily. "You will be of no use to your friends if you stay here. They will never feel that you are close."
"Maybe not," the elf murmured thoughtfully. "But maybe there is something I can do after all."
Merewine paled. "You are planning to do something then?"
Legolas shrugged. "No need to mention this to Gimli," he said, his eyes glittering in the dimly lit passageway. "What he does not know cannot hurt him."
-:-
When Aragorn awoke, he felt somewhat better. He was still alone in the small room, and the images from his troubled dreams were still fresh and vivid in his mind, but this time, amidst all the horrors, he had seen a light, bright and warm and comforting. Did this mean he was recovering from the poison?
The poison… he had no evidence that it was snake poison causing his suffering, apart from Frea's and Algar's words. But could he trust them? He felt suddenly angry at himself for even considering this question. Algar had saved Eldarion's life by risking his own. He had done nothing to deserve such doubt.
Except for one thing. Worry arose in Aragorn's heart anew as he remembered seeing the braid around his wrist. Hoping against hope that it had only been a part of a dream, he raised his arm up. Surprisingly, his strength was enough, and his heartbeat accelerated as he beheld his golden bracelet.
What was it doing around his wrist? Who had cut it off from Legolas's head and how had the elf allowed it? No possible answer came to Aragorn, apart from a terrifying vision. A picture from his nightmare… a large Uruk-hai cutting the braid and throwing it into the dirt, before beating the elf to death. Aragorn's heart hammered in his chest and his breathing turned into choked gasps as he remembered watching how the light in his golden bracelet had gone out.
Frea and Algar had assured him that this had been but a dream, and that Legolas, Arwen and his children were safe in Minas Tirith. But Legolas would not willingly part with his braid, and if it was cut from him by force, how could the elf be well and safe? And if Frea and Algar were wrong about that, could he believe a word they said?
He felt so lost, so confused. What was true and what was a lie? Who was a friend and who – an enemy? Where was he? What was happening to him? Where were his friends and family? Were they well? Were they alive? Aragorn felt tears prick at his eyes. He wanted to shout in the darkness, but there was no one to hear him.
Perhaps he could use the metal pin in the braid to pick the lock and escape? Aragorn frowned. Where had this thought come from? It made no sense at all. Why would he think there would be a metal pin in the braid? And why would he need to pick a lock and escape? He was not a prisoner. Or was he?
Aragorn slowly raised his other hand, planning to touch the braid and examine it more closely. But as both his hands were raised before his face, his eyes widened and he gave out a strangled gasp.
A slender elven braid was tied around each one of his wrists. The two golden bracelets glittered in the dark room, filling his heart with wonder and hope for reasons he could not explain. Nay, not golden. For although they glittered, not all things that glittered were gold.
Some were much more precious.
TBC
Note: Thorin III Stonehelm became King under the Mountain after his father Dáin was killed during the War of the Ring. Erebor prospered under his rule and became a close ally to Gondor and to Aragorn. I imagine Gimli will have some explaining to do next time he meets him.
Thanks for reading! Comments will be treasured, as always!