Chapter 10: The Deal
Aragorn awoke with a start, silently screaming Legolas' name.
He sat still, breathing heavily and gripping the blanket that covered his legs. He'd had a nightmare – and it was still haunting him...The visions! The visions he had seen in the Stone – the ones of Rumil and Legolas – were still in his head, recurring again and again. He could not be free of them.
The Ranger looked around and became aware of where he was: in his tent. He let out a deep breath and brought his hands up to his face, feeling the wetness there. Was it sweat – or tears? Both, he realized. He remembered feeling tormented, even in sleep. Had the visions made him weep?
As he sat there breathing heavily in a cold sweat, thinking about Legolas and Rumil, he felt his heart rent asunder. And it was at that moment that he came to a realisation: nothing mattered more to him than the elf did. He wanted Legolas, needed him, and his life could not go on without him. He knew then that if Legolas were bonded with anyone else, his own heart would be shattered, or be turned to stone to render him a living death.
Stone. The Stone, he thought.
Aragorn looked around him, and in the dim light of the tent, his eyes found what he was looking for – exactly where he had placed it when he had brought it back. Sitting in a corner of the tent was the Stone that had shown him those hated visions.
Were they real? he wondered. Had he mistaken their meaning?
He had to look again. He had to see everything again. To be sure. How strange human nature is, he thought as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed to get up and walk over to the object. We know something tortures us, yet we keep going back to it just to see it, to make sure it is there – like we are fascinated by the torment it inflicts on us.
He paused for a moment to listen. Everything seemed silent outside the tent. It must be the middle of the night now – everyone must be asleep, including the elf of his desires and his dreams. Just the thought of Legolas warmed him like nothing else could. Valar, how he wanted the elf, and right now, he felt he would do anything to make sure the visions did not come to pass.
But could he?
With that disturbing and desperate thought, he picked up the cloth-covered object once more and brought it to the bed. He was soon seated before the globe, which was still dark, with nothing to show him. Once more, he placed his hands on it – hating it, but unable to part from it, till it had shown him what he wanted to see again – hoping he had been mistaken.
"Show me!" Aragorn demanded of it. "Show me again what will happen between Rumil and Legolas!" he hissed, not even knowing whether his words would have any effect on the Stone. "Is it true? Or were you mistaken before? Show me!"
Feeling a little foolish, but stubbornly persistent, he kept his hands on the globe till it slowly became alit as it had before. Then – like a toxin that slowly spreads to poison every fiber of one's being, and although he did not want to believe them – the same scenes between Rumil and Legolas appeared, playing before him and twisting his heart with pain.
"Legolas…" he uttered in a strangled voice. "Please… don't let this come to pass…"
What would you give to have this future changed? a voice asked in his ear.
"Anything," he whispered in response, still staring at the globe. "Anything… he is all I want, he is all that matters to me…"
As if to taunt him, the scenes played again before his anguished eyes.
"Nooooo!" he cried as an insane anger overwhelmed him, and he picked up the Stone to smash it on the hard floor of the tent.
"Why waste such a precious gift of Sight, foolish human!" a powerful voice boomed in his ear.
Aragorn almost dropped the Stone in astonishment when he turned around and saw the figure in white on the other side of the bed.
"Saruman! How – ?" he stuttered, and the globe slipped from his hands. Quick as lightning, he grabbed it again even as the mouth of the wizard opened in alarm.
Seeing the Stone safe again, Saruman relaxed and laughed – a chilling cackle that made Aragorn shudder.
"But you are locked in Orthanc!" Aragorn exclaimed. "How – ?"
"Oh, come now, Ranger of the North," the white wizard taunted. "Remember who I am! Saruman the White! The grey fool Gandalf could come back from the dead – and you are surprised at me escaping from a stone tower? The tower that I built?" Saruman smirked and laughed. "I am no ordinary human! It would take much more than a flood and a horde of… walking trees! … to hold me prisoner in my own tower!
Having got past his shock, Aragorn stood quickly, holding the palantir firmly under one arm and retrieving a dagger from under his pillow with the other hand. "Why are you here?" he demanded, "and how did you get past the Rohirrim?" He pointed the dagger at the white-robed figure and made a move towards the tent opening, intending to alert the others.
"Tsk, tsk, and you call yourself the heir of Isildur," the wizard said mockingly. "At least your ancestor knew what he wanted, and he had the courage to take it! You concern yourself with a small matter like how I – a Maia – could get past a puny obstacle like the army of a failing King Theoden, instead of fighting for what should be yours!"
Aragorn swallowed. How did he know…?
"Did you not say that you would give anything to change what you saw in the palantir?" the wizard asked slowly, almost singing his words.
Aragorn stared at him, suddenly feeling strange.
"Will you not say what you want, Aragorn?" the wizard persisted in the same tone – slow and soft and soothing.
His voice… his voice… it filled Aragorn's ears, lulling him into a stupor. It was like a spell…
"What do you want, Aragorn?... I can help you…"
Aragorn swayed, and his hold on the dagger and the Stone relaxed. His lips parted to speak as of their own will. "I want… the events… in the visions… to change… I want…"
"Yes?" Saruman prompted, moving very slowly towards the Ranger, who found that he could not move. "You want the future to be changed?"
"I do not want… the bonding to take place…" the Ranger murmured as if he was outside of himself.
"The bonding?" the wizard repeated, not stopping his slow approach.
"Legolas… Rumil… they cannot bond…" His hold on the palantir and the dagger grew weaker.
"You want the bonding to stop?"
"Yes… yes…"
"I can change that, Aragorn," the wizard said in the same slow tone. He was just a yard away from Aragorn now. "I can grant you your wish."
"You can?" Aragorn asked, his words soft and slurred now. "But Gandalf said… he said… events cannot be changed…"
A soft laugh came from Saruman's lips. "What would the old fool know?" he sneered. "He has never owned a palantir!"
"But you… you can change things?" Aragorn asked, doubt in his voice even as he lost more of his will.
"Yes, yes, I can," came the convincing reply. "If you do not want the bonding to happen, I can make it so… for a small price."
At those last words, a warning entered Aragorn's mind, and he tensed. "What is your price?" he demanded.
The white figure stopped a foot from the Ranger and laughed lightly. "I just require something small from you, Ranger - nothing you would miss, but which has great value to me, for it was once mine."
Aragorn frowned, and he became aware of the palantir in his hands once more. "Are you talking about this – the Seeing Stone?" He felt so out of his body now that he wondered why Saruman did not just wrestle the globe out of his weak hold on it.
"Yes, human, I only wish for what was once mine, that is all," the wizard said in a syrupy tone. "I will not snatch it from you, for you have bent it to your will. But if you return it to me willingly… I will gladly grant you your wish: the bonding between the two elves will not take place."
Aragorn took a deep breath, confused by the flurry of thoughts running through his mind. Saruman should not have the Stone… it belonged to the line of Isildur… but what could it do even in the wizard's hands? It could only show what was happening… what would happen… it would not affect the outcome of the war… it was a small price to pay… a small price… But wait… the Stone should not return to Saruman… he was a traitor…
Saruman's brows knitted at Aragorn's hesitation, and a fey look came over his face. But it quickly disappeared to be replaced by an expression of mock resignation.
"Very well, Aragorn," he sighed, pretending to turn around to head for the tent exit. "If you will not relinquish the palantir, reconcile yourself to the bonding. Condemn Legolas to an immortal lifetime with one he does not truly love…"
Upon hearing that threat, Aragorn's eyes shot wide open, and he cried: "Wait!"
The wizard halted, and the sly smile reappeared on his face. "So – you will release the Stone to me?"
"Can you truly stop the bonding? Will you keep your word?" the Ranger demanded, pointing the dagger at Saruman again with a shaky hand.
A cackle emitted from the wizard's throat, and he reached out a long, gnarled hand to place it on the globe, which began to glow lightly at the touch. "Yes, I swear on the palantir," he vowed. "Trust me, Ranger, trust me…"
Torn between guilt and want, but helplessly mesmerised by the voice of the white figure, Aragorn slowly handed over the Stone. "I – I release it to you."
Smiling, the wizard took it from Aragorn with both hands and nodded with satisfaction at the brightening glow in the globe. His hawk-like eyes bore into Aragorn's again. "Are you certain about what you wish? You do not want the bonding to take place?" he asked carefully.
Feeling wretched, and still strangely removed from himself, Aragorn nodded.
"Then it is done!" the wizard declared. "No bonding will take place between the two elves!"
As he uttered the words, the Stone flared, and the tent grew dark as if its light had been swallowed. In the red glare of the palantir, Saruman's face and eyes looked so demonic that Aragorn gasped and took a step back. A harsh laugh came from the throat of the wizard, and in a flash of blinding light, he and the Stone vanished, leaving only the dying echoes of his evil laughter. Once again, the tent looked as it had before: dimly lit.
Aragorn staggered but quickly righted himself, feeling the rapid pounding of his heart. He shook his head and asked himself: Did it really happen? Was Saruman really here?
He looked at his hands, seeing only the dagger in one of them, and no Stone in the either. It was gone. He had given it up – and he had made a deal with the traitorous wizard.
It took some moments for his breathing to slow down, till he could make his legs move towards the bed, suddenly feeling the need to sit.
But before he could take two steps, he was halted in his tracks.
"Aragorn!" came a cry of agony, and an instant later, the tent flaps burst open and Gimli thundered in. One hand was clasped to his chest, and great distress was clearly written even on his beard-covered face. Even through his struggle to breathe, his next words froze the Ranger's heart:
"Valar, Aragorn! The elf… it… it's the elf!"