Aragorn and Ceranos's predicament seemed darker than ever. They had looked everywhere for any possible way out of the room, but there was none to be found. To make matters worse, the Orcs had started their attempt to break in again; both friends could hear the heavy clank and low creaking of the doors as armour and wood slammed together. In the end, Aragorn sat on the floor, resting his head on his hands.
"We are trapped," he murmured. "There's nothing more we can do, is there?"
Ceranos didn't speak, not at once anyway. He simply stared at the doors for several moments, watching as they slowly yielded to the strength of the numerous Orcs that kept pushing them forcefully, and then he stood up.
"There is one thing we can do," he said, his eyes flashing with resolution. He slowly stepped closer to the doors, holding up his axe.
"What is that?" Aragorn asked, cocking his head.
"The first Orc to enter will find out," Ceranos answered, setting himself in a fighting position. "And then we make sure more follow before we fall."
Aragorn stared at Ceranos, pursing his lips, and he decided that the elf had a point. Just when he was just about to get back on his feet, his sword in hand, however, he felt something brush by him swiftly. He looked up, and he caught a glimpse of a thrush flying away, straight through a small hole on the rocky wall where he could see beams of light shine brightly.
"Ceranos!" he called.
Ceranos faced Aragorn in mild surprise, but the man showed him the hole. "Up there!"
Ceranos looked up and grinned broadly, understanding what was in Aragorn's mind and they both climbed the rubble to examine the hole. It wasn't a very big one: a man's fist could barely go through. Yet they could easily see that behind that crack on the wall lay their only means of escape.
"Can you widen it?" Aragorn asked.
"After seven centuries of digging, that should be plain sailing," Ceranos said, opening his pack. "Although…"
"What?"
"Remind me not to use my pack as a means of defence next time." Ceranos took out his pickaxe, making a face as he revealed its state. Its handle had broken in two and a mere splinter was the only thing that kept both ends together.
But for the constant crashing sound that rang throughout the room, Aragorn would have grinned broadly. "Let us hope there will be a next time. Now hurry!"
Ceranos didn't have to be told twice. He held the pickaxe with both hands and started hitting the wall swiftly and surely at several weak points. Neither man tried to think of the frightening sound of a wooden plank snapping or the triumphant shrieks of the Orcs as they slowly broke down the door. They simply focused on the bright light that rushed through the hole that Ceranos managed to open.
"No time to make it any bigger," the elf said, flinching slightly as another sharp crack filled the room. "We will have to squeeze through, head-first. Go!"
"No! You first!" Aragorn said.
"This is not the time to argue!" Ceranos snapped, grabbing the man and all but shoving him through the hole before following.
The sight of the daylight was one for sore eyes, that was for certain. Yet they didn't have the luxury to savour it just yet, for, as it turned out, the rock that they were currently standing on was the only thing that stood between them and a roaring waterfall. Aragorn looked down, trying to see beyond the foam, while Ceranos glued himself against the rock wall, closing his eyes tightly.
"We have only one choice and that is to jump!" Aragorn cried, clutching the elf's shoulder. "Get ready on the count of three!"
"Strider?"
Aragorn frowned as he noticed Ceranos's blanching face. "What?"
"There is something I should tell you!"
"Now?" Aragorn asked dubiously. Realisation caught up with him, however, and he couldn't help but stare at the elf. "You cannot swim!"
"At all! I cannot even paddle!"
"What kind of an elf does not know how to swim?" Aragorn exclaimed incredulously.
"One that was raised by Dwarves, do we really have to discuss this now?" Ceranos retorted.
"All right, calm down! We will have to think of something else."
"We will?" the elf asked, relieved.
"Yes. And I have thought of it already!"
"Well?"
"Hold on to me tightly!"
"What?" Ceranos cried.
Aragorn's answer the Man's fingers grabbed him by the armour, dragging him down to his own leap down the waterfall.
"ARAGORN!"
Aragorn registered Ceranos screaming his name, but he didn't have the luxury to ponder on it at that moment. All he could afford to do was take a deep breath, close his eyes, and then extend his body in a diving position, hoping that Ceranos had the sense to follow suit. He only opened his eyes after he hit the water, searching for the elf's form, and, when he finally caught sight of him, clearly stunned after the impact with the water and sinking fast, he swam behind him to wrap his arms around the elven body. Before he became too desperate for air, he swam to the surface and dragged Ceranos to the riverbed, pulling both of them out of the water. Ceranos's closed eyes made Aragorn realize that he had to act quickly. After rolling the elf on his stomach, he removed the helmet and pressing with both his hands down Ceranos's back in order to force the water out of his lungs.
Ceranos responded instantly, coughing out violently all the water he had unwillingly swallowed, and soon he was breathing in precious air once more.
"Are you all right?" Aragorn asked softly.
"I am… now," Ceranos whispered. He slowly turned on his back, his hand moving the wet hair off his face. "You know, Strider… this is not the best way… to keep a friendship…"
"You still consider me a friend then?" Aragorn asked, smiling.
"I do…" Ceranos answered, sitting up and wringing the water off his hair. "A half-crazed one, but a friend nonetheless…"
"Good." Yet Aragorn knew now there was something that had to be cleared up. "Ceranos… How did you find out about my real name?"
Ceranos blushed guiltily. "I… guessed it?"
Aragorn crossed his arms, indicating that that was a cheap answer, so Ceranos sighed and held up his hands in a sign of peace.
"All right, the truth then," he said. "I heard you say it, after I had rescued you from the Orcs."
Aragorn frowned. "But I had been unconscious."
"Delirious with fever, actually," Ceranos said. "The slashes on your back must have been infected with poison, for you kept shivering violently and constantly addressing someone. I tried to treat your wounds the best I could, but I'm no healer and, by the time your fever dropped, well… I learnt enough." He looked up at the man. "I didn't mean to find out. And I understood that you had your reasons to keep it a secret and I intended to respect that, that's why I didn't say anything. I had no right in knowing anyway, since we met only four days ago."
Aragorn regarded the guilt-ridden Ceranos for many moments as the elf wrung his hands nervously, his eyes locked on the ground, and he finally decided that he could believe the story. So, he clasped Ceranos's shoulder gently, prodding him to look up at him.
"You did nothing wrong. It's true, I wish you found out about my true identity because I told you rather than because of a mere accident, but… I do not regret you knowing. It has been only four days, yet, after all we've been through, I would gladly tell you my real name had you asked it."
"You… mean that?" Ceranos asked, looking up shyly.
Aragorn nodded and stretched his hand in Ceranos's direction. "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Isildur's heir and the heir to the throne of Gondor."
Ceranos looked at the proffered hand for several moments, and finally he took the man's hand in his meekly.
"Glad to meet you," he said in a soft tone. "And thank you for confiding in me."
"You're welcome," Aragorn said with a smile. "Are you feeling better now?"
"Actually… I will feel much better after I do this." With that, Ceranos rose to his feet and looked in the direction of the Moria, shouting at the top of his lungs, "Ishkhaqwi ai durugnul, rakhâs!"
Aragorn cocked his head. "What did you say?"
"I will tell you as we walk," Ceranos replied, picking up his pack. "Let us go."
The rest of the journey had been uneventful. Ceranos had asked Aragorn if he could escort him to the borders of Rivendell, an offer that the Man had welcomed happily, even though he was concerned at first Ceranos wouldn't arrive for the festivities in Nogrod on time. However, Ceranos had assured him that he preferred to see him reach his home safely and, besides, his journey wouldn't so difficult from then onwards; the main road led straight to the Blue Mountains. Thus it was that they traveled to Rivendell, the terrors of the Mines of Moria becoming nothing more than a bad dream. Only Aragorn's injured back reminded me how close they had been to losing their lives. Still, neither of them regretted going through Khazad-dûm; the friendship they had formed made up for the hardships and fears they had to go through during those particular four days.
It was also the reason that their hearts were heavy on the day that they had reached the border of Imladris. As Aragorn looked at the familiar trees, the very ones under which he had ridden along with Elladan and Elrohir so long before, he realized that he couldn't say goodbye to Ceranos just yet. Who knew when he would be able to see the elf again…
"Let us sit here for a while," he suggested, beckoning Ceranos to sit beside him on a fallen trunk nearby.
Ceranos nodded, following Aragorn's example. Silence followed as they didn't speak, unsure what they could say to ease the parting that was imminent. In the end, it was Ceranos who broke the silence.
"I am glad to have met you, you know," he said. "We were a good team, considering all the trouble we had to face."
"I was about to say what a dreadful team we are for the same reasons," Aragorn said.
Though both laughed at that, Ceranos grew sober once more.
"There is something I want you to have," he said softly, and reached for his pack, digging out his pipe. "Here."
Aragorn's eyes opened wide in surprise. "This is yours! You smoke your pipe-weed with it every night!"
"Nevertheless, I want you to take it."
"Ceranos, I do not even smoke. You cannot possibly hand your pipe to somebody who will never use it."
"You don't have to smoke, you can put it in a corner of your room. It can still serve as a reminder of our adventure," Ceranos said. "Please accept it."
Aragorn remained silent for a few minutes, clearly indecisive; then finally reached for the pipe.
"Thank you. I only wish I could give you something back in return."
"There is something you can do for me," Ceranos said with a soft smile.
"Then tell me. You know you only have to name it."
Ceranos nodded with a purse of his lips, and then took a deep breath to say it. "Don't watch me go."
Aragorn blinked, certainly taken aback by that kind of request. "Why?"
"It is an old Dwarven belief," Ceranos said, scratching his head in embarrassment. "One should not watch the other go, because it means they will never see each other again."
"Orcs are not the only creatures that are superstitious then," Aragorn teased mildly. Still, a part of him was touched as that kind of request was just Ceranos's way of asking him to meet again, so he placed his arm across the elf's shoulders. "We will see each other again. Though my destiny lies elsewhere for the time being, I will come to the Blue Mountains and visit you at the first chance."
"Is that a promise?" Ceranos asked.
"It is a promise."
Ceranos smiled broadly, and he held Aragorn in a warm embrace that the man returned; a way of saying their last goodbye.
"Stay safe."
"You too, my friend."
It was then that Aragorn's ears picked up a familiar sound. Standing up, he cocked his head and listened carefully. Yes… it was the jingling of bells! And a neigh as well!
"That is Asfaloth!" Aragorn said with a smile, and he hurried forward, waving his arms. "Over here!"
There was another neigh, and a voice calling back at Aragorn; he had been heard.
"You have to meet Glorfindel," the man started, addressing Ceranos, "He is one of the best warriors of Rivendell and a…" His voice trailed off, for when he turned around, he realised he was alone; Ceranos was gone. He had obviously left while Aragorn had his back turned to him.
"You made sure that I would not watch you go," the man murmured. He would certainly miss the strange Elf...
The sound of clopping cut into Aragorn's train of thought, and then there was Glorfindel himself, riding on Asfaloth.
"I knew the voice sounded familiar! Mae govannen, Estel!" the elf said with a smile, dismounting in order to greet the young one properly.
"It is good to see you too, Glorfindel," Aragorn said, completing the embrace. "What news of my home?"
"I can tell you, but you will not like what you hear," Glorfindel said, chuckling. "Lady Galadriel informed Elrond by a travelling pigeon that you were venturing towards home despite her warnings. Needless to say that Elrond got concerned about your safety and he meant to send warriors to retrieve you if you didn't arrive to Rivendell on time. Fortunately you made it."
"I am not the one who nearly eaten by wargs," Aragorn pointed out in a mild tease, only to sober in the next moment. "How does he fare?"
"He fares well, though he is confined in his bed. But come, you will see for yourself once we get back to the Last Homely House," Glorfindel replied. "Gather your things; Asfaloth can carry us both."
Aragorn complied, careful not to discomfort his back, since it was still throbbing at times. But Glorfindel wasn't blind, and he noticed the stiff manner in which the man moved.
"Is everything all right?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Aragorn winced inwardly, realizing that there was no point in hiding the truth. "Sort of. I came across trouble."
"That much is obvious. Let me see."
Aragorn winced once more; nevertheless he removed his shirt to show him his injured arms and back.
Glorfindel sighed gently. "The welts are ugly, but perhaps Elrond can treat them properly and make certain no scars are left." He ruffled Aragorn's hair playfully. "You were saying something about Elladan, erneth?"
Aragorn sighed in a wry manner, but that didn't stop Glorfindel from laughing. He helped the Ranger on the horse and, as soon as he was settled too, he whispered to the steed to start cantering home.
"Comfortable enough, Estel?" he Glorfindel as they rode on.
"Yes," said Aragorn sleepily; the rocking motion of the horse was lulling him gently. "I only wish you could have met Ceranos."
"Who?"
"A friend I met," Aragorn answered, trying to stay awake. "He helped me when I was captured by the Orcs."
Glorfindel smiled. "It sounds you have a very interesting story to tell. I would very much like to hear it, and I am sure Elrond and the twins will want to hear it also over a refreshing meal," he said.
"Yes," Aragorn sighed, his heart warming at the prospect of finally returning to Rivendell. Resting his head on the Elf's back, he finally gave in to sleep, imagining Arwen welcoming him with open arms.
To Be Concluded…
Footnotes:
*Sedho, Aragorn.: Hold still, Aragorn. (Sindarin)
**Ishkhaqwi ai durugnul, rakhâs!: I spit on your grave, Orks! (Khuzdul)
***erneth: young one (Sindarin)
