Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings, its characters, and its lands are property of Tolkein Estates and New Line Cinemas. This story was not written for profit, but for my own enjoyment.
WARNINGS: This chapter includes mildly graphic content, including, but not limited to, descriptions of wounds. Rated K+
Chapter Seven- A Star of Hope
Aragorn splashed through the narrow stream until he came to a small, concealed cleft where the water flowed down. He eased himself down into a seated position and let the refreshing, cool water run down his body, sighing in relief as the pain from his inflamed wounds lessened.
But it did nothing for the pain in his heart, and he forced himself back on his feet and to the water's edge, and he began plodding upriver again, only the hope that he may find help at Faramir's outpost keeping him going.
It was dark when he heard footsteps in the woods behind him. "'E went this way!" came a rough shout. Aragorn's heart sank with dread as he realized he was being tracked already. Did they kill Faramir so soon? No matter. He would not let himself be taken. He had to get back to Arwen, Eowyn, and his unborn child. Quiet as he could, which was almost soundless, as he'd spent most of his life as a ranger, he slipped back into the stream and waded upriver for a while, before finding a small cave behind a small waterfall. He ducked inside and waited, hoping that his pursuers would be thrown off the chase.
He heard their footfalls clattering and slipping against the wet rocks, and couldn't help but smile a bit at their inexperience. These highwaymen were no rangers. He heaved a sigh of relief as they hurried past his hiding place, and he waited for a few moments to make sure they were gone before leaving and slipping into the woods on the side of the stream, where, if they came back this way, they wouldn't find him. When he had gone for nearly another mile upstream, it was beginning to get dark.
Aragorn despaired of ever finding Henneth Annun. Perhaps, had he not been wounded, he would be able to find it, but not now. He sat down on the ground next to a large boulder and watched Ithil rise into the sky.
Now the full realization of what had happened over the past few days hit him. He had believed the bandits that Faramir had organized his capture, and even imagined killing the Steward, only to have Faramir lay down his own life that Aragorn may have a chance to live. If only he had not been so easily swayed. At first, he had wondered if Faramir was merely lying, but when he saw that he'd also been cruelly treated, he'd known that he was telling the truth. He should have gotten them to let him free.
But, no, their tormentor was too satisfied with Faramir's ultimate submission to his will to accept any offering of Aragorn's. And, perhaps this was his point, to let him live with the guilt of Faramir's death on his life.
He stayed there for a while, thinking about the day they'd set out. How could he have imagined that such a perfect day could go so wrong? At that moment, dark clouds covered the sky, and the light was cut off, and it would be safe for him to travel.
He forced himself to stand again, and continue his way upstream. The sharp stones cut his bare feet, and he thought ruefully how clever the highwaymen had been to take their shoes. His feet were now raw and blistered, and would soon fester if they weren't tended to. He sat with them in the cool stream for a moment, washing the cuts and blisters clean, and he wrapped them in pieces of cloth he tore off of his shirt.
Then, with a sigh of exhaustion and hopelessness, he turned upriver, pausing to get a few leaves of Athelas from beside the boulder where he had been sitting. The scent reminded him of Faramir, and he looked up to the dark sky, tears welling in his eyes. "Mellon-nin," he whispered, and a flicker caught his eye.
Earendil's star rose high in the heavens. Aragorn looked up it. The clouds cleared, and Ithil's light shone brightly alongside it, lighting up the wood around him with a mystical, silvery light. Aragorn suddenly saw that across from him, there was an identical boulder to the one he stood by. The ground between was slightly worn, and the larger stones had been drawn aside. To an untrained eye, it would seem like nothing. But Aragorn saw it clearly. A path.
"In between two boulders a small path begins. Follow it and you will come to Henneth Annun."
Faramir's parting words rang in his ears. He looked back up at the star. A star of hope, he thought, and said a silent prayer of thanks. "Farewell, Faramir," he whispered, "May your spirit be at peace." And with that, he set his feet on the path and made his slow, painful way along it.
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The path seemed to go on forever, and it was very hard to follow, often leading off and doubling back on itself to throw off anyone who happened to find it. Aragorn once again thanked his ranger training, managing to successfully find the right path.
As he went deeper into Ithilien, he hoped that he wouldn't be waylaid by any other trouble, for he was not sure that he would survive it. His feet began to hurt again, feeling like every step was over hot coals, and his stripes and other wounds had begun to fester and pained him. Every move he made was agony, and he closed his eyes, letting the feeling of the smoother path under his feet guide him.
Suddenly, he felt, instead of pebbles or leaves, cool, flat stone under his feet. He opened his eyes, and saw to his relief that he was standing in the mouth of a cave. The tunnel went into darkness, but Aragorn saw stairs a few meters in. He was safe at last.
He stumbled in, until he was hidden inside the cave, but not all of the way in, for he had no matches and didn't much relish the idea of groping his way to the chambers beyond, especially not in his condition.
He lowered himself carefully and painfully down to the ground. The cool wall of the cavern felt good on his burning back, and he leaned his head back and was asleep within a few minutes.
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The two rangers made their weary way back to the outpost. "I can't believe they gave us the slip again," one said, shaking his head, "Those robbers plague Ithilien worse than the enemy's minions did."
His companion scuffed the ground with his boot. "It's like they dissapear. Always at the same place. They must have some sort of hideout, Malborn."
Malborn sighed. "We'll have to find it," he said gruffly, "We'll have to find where they're holed up. The robbings were bad enough, but when the victims started to dissapear as well, they had to be stopped. If only Captain Faramir were still here. He'd know what to do."
The other ranger nodded. "Yes, he's ambushed so many Southrons, orcs, and Easterlings that this would be child's play."
They reached the head of the trail to the entrance to Henneth Annun. Malborn stopped short. "Lindir, look here." He bent to the ground, touching the side of the boulder gently. In the fading moonlight, he could see blood splattered there.
Lindir bowed his head in concentration. "There's more. It seems to follow the path."
Malborn was confused. How had someone found the path? There weren't very many rangers left in Ithilien, and he was quite sure that none were gravely wounded. And they would have gone straight back to Henneth Annun, not stopped to rest.
But how had an outsider found the path to Henneth Annun? "We must make haste," Malborn said, "It could be a spy for one of those robbers. And if he gets away, he could tell their leaders the whereabouts of our outpost."
Malborn and Lindir quickened their pace, running up the path. The trail of blood continued up all the way to the cave, and went inside. There, they noticed that it was bloody footprints. "They go inside, but they don't come out."
The rangers drew their swords and stepped silently into the cave.
They paused for a moment, letting their eyes adjust to the dimness, not wanting to light a torch in case they alerted the trespasser.
When they could see clearly, what they saw shocked them. There on the floor, bleeding, lay Gondor's king.
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To be continued...
A/N: This chapter was really hard to write.
Replies to Reviews:
lindahoyland- Yeah. I was going to keep them adverse for a little while, but my muse had different ideas. Besides, Aragorn had more time to be traumatized and convinced of Faramir's treachery in Web of Treason.
Fantasychica37- I thought about that too. I guess that the fact that Faramir was beaten as well would be a telltale sign that the highwaymen were lying...
Namaarie!
~Luthien
