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Eldarion was smiling broadly as he swung up onto his pony's back. Elrond could only return the sentiment, knowing how much it meant to the boy to be allowed to ride out, if under a sturdy guard. Stepping closer he looked into his grandson's eyes, brushing back the boy's fringe and speaking in their shared tongue "Don't be rash Little West Star, you mean too much to me…" He stopped and stepped back, partly to control a nagging sense of unease and protectiveness
"You're to be back by sunset, no later. Is that understood?"
"Yes Sire"
He managed to keep his face blank at the Captain's slightly sour reply to his King's instruction, but gently placed a hand on his foster son's shoulder as Aragorn stepped back, tense with a righteous anger. He murmured softly in Sindarin, attempting to soothe him
"Easy Estel, don't spoil it for Dari"
Aragorn nodded almost imperceptibly then raised his hand in formal farewell salute to the group
"Fair weather and firm paths to you, may you return home safely."
Eldarion sat straighter and retuned the gesture, only a glinting in his grey eyes indicating his growing excitement. Together the three watched as the group rode down the ramp and out into the levels of the city.
As the final horse vanished Elrond felt his daughter leaning heavily against him "Arwen, what is wrong?"
She twitched slightly, staring after her son "I don't know… it's like a dark mist over my heart, cutting me apart from Eldarion, separating us forever…"
Involuntarily he tightened his grip, recognising the feeling she described as being similar, if not identical to his own fear. It was only with difficulty that he reassured her "The captain will keep him safe, Estel would only allow a man he trusted to undertake this duty."
"And his life won't be worth living if he fails." Aragorn's words came out a low and dangerous. Elrond glared at him in reproach "Be careful of your expression of feelings, Estel, I would hate for you to become another Isildur."
Slightly chastened his foster son nodded acceptance of the warning, before leading Arwen back inside the hall with courtly formality. Elrond lingered in the courtyard, resting one hand on the white tree in a superstitious and futile attempt to ward of the feeling of worry and danger threatening to engulf him. With a final glance back to the pinnacle of Minas Tirith and out beyond to Pelennor fields he also gave up the farewell vigil and began to make his way, along long corridors and winding down ward stairs to the vault library, were he had a feeling that the best texts, those most valuable yet most forgotten, were stored.
Deep in a scroll discussing the landing of the Elendili ships, he was most startled to be interrupted by a banging on the door
"Who is it?"
"Beregond Sir… The King and the Steward ask that you join them in the great hall"
He smiled slightly at the formal pronouncement of the titles, allowing himself an inward laugh, before rolling up the scroll and picking up his candle. Weaving his way through the shelves he unbolted the door and stepped out into the passage. The Captain of the White Company stood there holding a lantern and muttering
"What is the matter?"
"The wall sconces aren't lit Sir, they should be… particularly as it's nearly dusk outside." The man snapped his teeth shut on the last word, anger darkening his eyes
"Peace Beregond" Elrond soothed "There is no point getting angry over little things."
The man shook his head ruefully "you're right Sir, but its old habit to want light to see by, just in case something's lurking out there."
Elrond nodded and put a hand on his shoulder "We all have old habits, and mostly they're worth keeping" Then he gestured onward down the corridor "Shall we go?"
With a hurried nod Beregrond led the way, his lantern bobbing and throwing shadows up the wall.
The first thing he noticed entering the hall was Beren next to the door, laying still enough to be mistaken for a fur rug. Frowning he closed the distance to the table where Faramir and Aragorn stood talking, speaking as he did so
"Is Dari not back yet?"
Aragorn lifted his head and frowned "No, and he should be." Concern, mixed with anger, filled both his face and his voice.
Elrond held up a hand, annoyed at himself for passing his worry onto the other man "Sîdh Estel… He's a boy, he's probably dragging out his freedom as long as the captain will let him." He forced his eyes to twinkle, pushing back his worry "Like someone else I know."
Aragorn sighed and pulled a face; half grimace, half smile "Point taken"
Elrond nodded slightly in acceptance "Now, what did you drag me away from the scrolls for? Not taxes I hope?"
Faramir shook his head "No, not taxes… an old clause in a charter request, I can translate it but it is nonsense…"
Elrond lent forward to take the offered parchment, only to be interrupted by the hall doors bursting open.
The messenger stumbled and fell to the floor, gasping for air. For a split second there was silence, then the disjointed words rasped out "The prince's horse…riderless."
Aragorn ran to the man "Where? Where is the horse?"
The messenger lifted one hand to point out the door. Following the gesture Elrond saw Hasufel standing in the courtyard, his coat dark with sweat, the reins riding high on his neck. There was a sharp intake of breath as Aragorn also registered what he saw, then they both ran forward, down the steps and to the horse. Hasufel tried to shy away, his eyes ringed with fear but was clearly too tired to make much of an effort. Elrond slowly grasped the reins and rubbed the horse's forehead as Aragorn ran his hands all over the damp body.
"No wounds… no marks… Noth-" His commentary cut off with a sharp intake of breath. Elrond stopped mid-rub and stepped next to him. His voice was sharp when he spoke
"Man te?"
Aragorn held out his hand, palm up. On it lay a scrap of dark, ragged fabric.
Elrond swallowed and picked it up. It was rough, poorly woven.
Only one thing in Arda wears this type of cloth
The thought ran through his brain before he could quash it. Slowly he raised his eyes to meet Aragorn's. One word came from his foster son's mouth, layered with disgust.
"Yrch"
Running feet indicated Faramir's arrival. No words were needed, he simply looked from one of them to the other, then down at the fabric and his face sank.
"There is still hope…" Even the steward's tone admitted that he was clutching strands "The guards… perhaps he was only unseated and Hasufel bolted, perhaps he's riding home now."
"Perhaps" Aragorn's voice was flat, dead.
Elrond flinched, recognising it as his own tone after Elros had died. Desperate he forced his foster son to look at him "Estel, at least wait until the guards come back, Faramir could be right
The reply came in bitter Sindarin "You don't believe it, even though you say it… I can tell."
He sighed "Just wait."
And wait the three did, through dusk and into the twilight with Arwen and Eowyn at their sides. Eventually hooves were heard and the troop appeared, the captain at its head, looking forward, his lieutenant glancing behind fruitlessly every few seconds. It was that, a small, normally insignificant detail, that confessed the horrible truth.
Then, as Elrond struggled to comprehend what they were seeing and what it meant… as Arwen suddenly crumpled against him with a small cry… and Aragorn's eyes went cold…
Beren began to howl
Translations
Man te?= What is it?
Yrch= Orchs
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