Book Two - THE BOY ARAGORN
Chapter Four: Fathers and Sons
Glorfindel smacked the neck of the gray stallion softly, pleased with their unusual accomplishment. "Savoron, son of Asfaloth, thou art indeed a fleet-footed burst of the North Wind. Never had I spanned that crevice... I would have vowed it could not be done." He jumped from the saddle and threw an arm around the horse's muzzle, tussling with him in play.
The gray nickered and plunged to one side, but did not shake off the grip of his rider. This game they played at times of private celebration, both shedding their serious demeanours far from judging eyes and opinions.
"But there is work for us below," Glorfindel told the horse. "We must take Estel and Rogarin for a long ride, and camp in the forest or pass the time at the smithies." The gray inquired further. "Elrond is receiving visitors, and would avoid explaining the presence of a child of men. As for Rogarin, some could wonder at the Lord Arathorn's charger grazing in the meadows of Imladris." The gray heaved a sigh, and took the elf's tunic-sleeve gently between his teeth. "Keni will come with us as well, but the Lady Gilraen will keep to her chamber, poor dear." Savoron shook his head. "I, too, believe she would be happier romping with us in the forest, but it seems... perhaps she must be close at hand for any need that may arise," Glorfindel finished lamely.
They sighed again, this time in unison, and made their way back to the valley in silence. As they approached the stable, they could hear the boy whooping and the wolf-pup in echo barking and yodelling.
Savoron whinnied his usual call on arriving at the lofty stone building warm with straw that the horses of Imladris called home. Several voices rose in answer, not from within but from the pasture beyond. "So Estel and Keni are deep in games, alone, inside the stables," Glorfindel mused. "Surely not in mischief or in danger, but their childish minds travel fast." Horse and elf picked up the pace and galloped the final lengths, pulled up short and called again: one, his shrill whinny, the other, the beloved name.
"Estel!" called his teacher, "have you readied your pack?"
"I have, my lord, I have!" squealed the boy ecstatically. "My pack with my small knife and my little boxes, my food-bag from Vaneta... for me and for you, Master, and one for Keni... and tidbits for Rogarin and for Savoron," he finished with thorough sorting.
"And your second clothing? And your cloak against the cold and damp?" Glorfindel asked seriously.
"Momo," the child answered, pointing to lumps yet untaken from the pack.
"Then we are quick to go, my son," said the elf-lord, "only wanting Rogarin."
As if awaiting the sound of his name, the great horse shook his head and neighed in answer. He came forward and stood at Estel's side, gurgling low in his chest. Saddle and bridle were in place, Glorfindel observed with pleasure, as well as a good coil of soft rope and a leather bottle strapped firmly to the side of the pommel.
They moved out quietly now, even Keni, following in Rogarin's wake. Where the path divided and one led up and away, Glorfindel turned to Estel and said, "Mount. I will lift the pup to you."
Estel tossed the reins over his horse's head and struck softly with two fingers twice on the thick foreleg. Rogarin instantly bent the knee and lowered the front of his body enough that Estel could swing up into the saddle. Glorfindel captured the wolf-pup deftly and lifted him to the boy. He helped Estel bundle the pup to his body, though not tightly now. He thought, in fact, that Keni could balance on the front of the saddle unbound, but respected Estel's judgement in this matter of his friend.
A moment later they were up the path and into the mountain, and the great house of Elrond was hidden from their sight. As they rode higher the air became thinner and they lessened their pace. At the crest of a small rise they turned from the path and went under the boughs of thick-trunked trees ever green, the hooves of their mounts silenced by the carpet of needles releasing fragrance at every step. The way was new to Estel, and he primed his ear for all the tiny sounds beyond their own. Soon he perceived a slant downwards as they rode, becoming more pronounced as the trees thinned and rivulets of sun streamed in through the forest roof.
They came to the floor of a small valley and Glorfindel drew rein. "Here," he said, swinging his leg over the neck of Savoron and dropping lightly to the ground, "we will release our friends of four legs, and stretch our own as well. Give me Keni." He took the pup from among the wrappings and held him briefly, whispering into his pointed little ear, then put him down to snuffle and investigate. Estel, already down from the saddle, unfastened his gear and lay it on the ground carefully, then loosened the girth and unclasped the throatlatch. He shook the bridle softly and slipped the bit from Rogarin's mouth, hung it over his shoulder and turned to pull the saddle from the horse's withers. Glorfindel inquired with a look, but the boy shook his head and tapped the foreleg once again. As the horse dipped forward, Estel grasped the saddle and pulled it away.
"Thus," he said, "we have learned for me to put on and take off the saddle. Rogarin has a good mind," he finished happily. Glorfindel grunted his approval, and quickly saw to his own mount. In a moment both horses were wandering the sunny valley, cropping and munching and thinking of nothing at all. Keni, otherwise, was busy asking everything and commenting in small whines and growls.
Elf and boy wandered as well, tracing their way along the foot of the slope until they came to a small spring dribbling from a tumble of boulders. Estel touched the water and sniffed his fingers, then tasted with care.
"Good," he said, "I believe this water is clean and good to drink." He stepped back and allowed Glorfindel to pass. The elf cupped his hands under the trickle and then bent to bathe his face.
"Indeed, young one, this is a pure fountain. But we have drink enough for this day, from Vaneta's brewery. Cleanse your face and hands, only."
Estel trilled a short whistle and Keni answered at once with a little bark. The pup came running in wild abandon, black eyes sparkling and red tongue lolling from the side of his snout. "Shall Keni drink from the fountain, Master?" asked Estel.
Glorfindel gestured assent, and watched as the boy collected water in his hands and offered the little pool for the pup to drink. Satisfied for the moment, Keni licked the boy's hand and sat back contented. He looked from the boy to the elf-lord and back again, stood up, turned twice and curled up in a spot of sun, still watching his friend from the corner of his eye.
"See thou this mark, Estel?" Glorfindel circled his fingertip around a rough figure of a rayed star. The boy studied it with interest.
"It is a carved star," he said finally. "Not a chance shape of rock broken."
"Indeed," said Glorfindel, weighing his words carefully, "this star was engraved by the hand of a mortal man. A boy." Estel stood quietly, observing the carved shape. "A boy not unlike thee."
"This boy, he came with you to this place?" Estel murmured.
"Many times."
"And he was your pupil also, Master." This was not a question.
"He was my pupil as a boy, later my friend as a man." Estel said nothing. "He was your sire, my boy. The Lord Arathorn."
"Dada," the child whispered. "Dada was here..."
"And he engraved this star on the rock. This star, the star of Eärendil, also a long forefather of thine." Glorfindel studied the boy's expression closely.
"Dada was a boy. Dada was your pupil, Master."
It seemed a block was rising in the child's mind. Glorfindel expected this, and yet hoped it would pass and even open a door for some speech on this essential matter. "Your father was a bright boy and an apt student," he said, "brave and strong. You, his son, have learned more quickly... having begun sooner."
"How so, Master?"
"Arathorn came to us for fostering at the age you will reach in two full turns of Arien's journey," Glorfindel reminisced. "Many things he knew already, which you have come to learn here with us. You, young Estel, by the will of Eru have grown in the ways of the Firstborn, and will take on the customs of Men at another, later, time of your life. Soon, in our counting of days."
Estel digested in silence, then returned to the revelation of greatest interest to him. "Dada... in this place... walked here, drank of this water?" His gray eyes opened wide, his question urgent.
"He did, many times."
"And now Estel is here... I am here..." The boy seemed to scan the valley for his father's footsteps. "Where is Dada now? He sleeps in a far mountain, yet Momo says he is here with us... here..." He touched the center of his chest and looked back up at his teacher.
"He is here, still," said Glorfindel, "his boy-strides, his ponderings, his mind hungry as is your own, Estel. I close my eyes and see him, then I open them and see thee, my son, and I praise the mercy of Eru... who made the Edain brief but fruitful..." his voice seemed to drift.
"Master..."
The elf drew himself back and focused again on the boy searching his eyes. "We believe, we Eldar, that where one has walked he walks forever. There is a body of light within us, both Eldar and Edain, not subject to time and place. Arathorn your father loved this hidden little dell, thus his body of light is here. We may feel him if we quiet our mind and our heart's beating."
"How would I know him?" asked Estel in a sad little voice. "I recall not his face... only his large, large form..."
Glorfindel smiled and punched the boy's arm softly. "It would serve you little if you did, my son, because his face of ten years was more akin to your own than to his man's countenance at the season of your birth."
"My face?" he wondered.
"Indeed. Two hands' span higher from the ground, the same sharp grey eyes, the same mop of hair. The same manner of looking first from left, then from right. A light in both your faces just before giving in to laughter." Glorfindel sighed. "You are so alike to him. Rogarin feels this, as well." His eyes strayed to the two horses drifting down the length of the dell, munching the rich grass peacefully.
"Rogarin was Dada's horse-friend. Mine was to be a small son of Rogarin, Momo said to me... the last day..."
Glorfindel looked closely at the boy. "You recall this, the last day?"
"Always." Estel looked up at his mentor. "Another life, a happy life. Dada," he sighed, then added hurriedly, "But this life is happy, as well."
"Arathorn had much joy amongst us, as a boy. You must know this."
"Tell me, please, Master," the child whispered. "Dada as a boy."
"He excelled in all things save one," said Glorfindel with a sudden smile. "Music. He had no voice for harmony, and could not follow the simplest melody. Milia despaired of him." The elf seemed to look down the stream of years. "But he had an uncanny gift for history, stories, names of places and persons... entire lineages were as a carrot-patch to him. His mind travelled even to the Blessed Realm, to the days of the Trees and the morning of Aman. He seemed to see it all, and could speak of it as if he were in the presence itself..." Glorfindel sighed, shaking his head. "He was a wonder, a boy of wonder. I awaited great doings from his chieftainship-" The elf broke off abruptly, as if entering upon restricted matters. He looked again at Estel, and for a long while they seemed to speak in thought, silent and motionless.
"Let us walk the length of this valley," said Glorfindel at last. "There is a great cave I would show thee, going deep into the mountain."
"Greater than the caves of the smithies of Master Aülean?" asked the boy.
"Of another sort. The smiths have delved their caves from the living rock, following the natural halls and turnings, making them larger, smoothing here, cutting there. This cave I would show you is untouched by hand of elf, dwarf or man," Glorfindel caught himself and added quickly, "dwarves you have not seen, my boy. They are another race of Speaking Peoples in Arda, and greatly skilled in working stone and metals."
"Were the dwarves pupils of Master Aülean, my lord?"
"Master Aülean and all the Gwaith-i-Mírdain had long ago a great friendship with the dwarves of the kingdom of Khazad-dûm, under these very mountains, far to the south. A fine road led out through its gates to the great city of Ost-in-Edhil, of the Noldorian realm of Eregion. That was Master Aülean's home, my son." Glorfindel walked on in silence for a while, Estel deep in thought beside him.
"A bad thing happened, master?" the boy ventured at last.
"Hast thou heard the smiths at the forges, striking the hot metal in time to a song of great sadness?"
The boy nodded. "And Milia will pluck this music from her harp, upon an evening of rain and cold."
"It is verily a fine ear, yours," said the elf in merriment. "Hast thou understood the words as well?"
"Perhaps three. I believe they sing in Quenya tongue, and I have few words."
"When the time comes, the Lord Erestor will ensure thy knowledge of the high tongue of Eldar lore, my boy. For now, be content with the speech of Men and that of the Sindar, which all the Eldar and the Edain use from birth. See, there lies the mouth of the great caves."
Estel followed Glorfindel's pointing finger with his eyes, and soon perceived a darker shade of rock behind an undergrowth of thorny bushes. "It seems a small mouth, Master," he said, "for us to enter freely." He grinned and added, "Estel, for sure may enter. But the Lord Glorfindel is very tall."
The elf laughed aloud and tousled the boy's hair. "Follow me," he said.
They came to the shadow in the rocks and Glorfindel reached carefully around the thorny branches, pressing them aside to reveal a larger opening than was previously in view. It seemed to slant upward. "Enter, my son, and await me. Stir not."
Estel advanced, avid eye and ear challenged by the dark silence beyond. He stopped to await his mentor arranging the branches for their later exit, and applied his sharp hearing skills. "Ha!" he exclaimed in a whisper, "water, Master."
Glorfindel appeared head and shoulders through the opening, holding between his teeth a small glass phial of blue light. "Indeed," he said. "The Hithaeglir were raised upon the secret streams of Ulmo. Nary a cave but is blessed with a spring, or its hollows collect the waters from above, trickling through endless rock and mineral."
"Master, what of Rogarin and Savoron? And Keni? He stayed at the camp, perhaps, and will miss us upon awakening."
As if called up by his name, the little wolf came barking to the cave entrance. "There, you see, is your constant companion," said the elf-lord. "Following our track through rich grasses is play for him. Otherwise, perhaps, entering a strange and dark cave. Call to him, softly."
"Keni," whispered Estel, "we are here. Enter." A short whine and a scuffle, and Keni was at his side. "Clever boy, ready to delve into a mountain?"
"A short ways only," said Glorfindel. "Night will be upon us soon, and we must see to our camp."
"Night is upon us already, in here," said Estel. "Only your fine blue light may guide us ahead." He and Keni edged forward with care.
"Let me pass, Estel," said his teacher. "We will see what the blue light can show."
Keni whined softly and pressed close to Estel, then moved forward with his friend's hand resting on his neck. The comforting presence awoke his natural curiosity, and he sniffed into the darkness beyond the circle of light.
"See, my boy," Glorfindel held the lantern aloft, "above and before us."
Estel narrowed his eyes and searched, then took his breath in sharply. "Stars!" he exclaimed softly. "But how, Master? Are we not in a great cave?"
"We are," his voice seemed to smile, "but those stars belong to Aüle's depths, not Varda's firmament. Come, let us go in a bit further."
They stepped carefully over rocks and waded through sandy crevices, until a small promontory rose before them. At Glorfindel's signal, they scrambled to the top.
There was a rounded space in the great crowning rock, and teacher and pupil settled their backs into its comfort. They lay back and gazed up into the twinkling darkness, while Keni sniffed the air, the ground, and finally Estel's hand.
"I will cover the blue light little by little," Glorfindel said, "until barely a small ray draws forth Aüle's stars. I believe they glitter even in full darkness. Would you see?"
"Oh, yes, Master. Perhaps they make light of their own."
"Indeed, my son. This may well be."
The elf covered the phial in subtle stages, until it was gone into a pocket. The tiny points of light still glittered softly, and for a long while elf and boy lay searching among them for shapes of things both known and dreamed of. Keni curled up and napped, unimpressed by the cave but content enough at Estel's side.
When the shapes among the glinting crystals began to resemble bread and fruits, they realized that hunger was upon them and started back to the mouth of the cave. The blue light blazed forth again, now much brighter to their eyes opened into the dark.
As they crawled out, they wondered at the fading dusk. "We were inside for longer than I felt, Master," said Estel.
"Was it, or was it not, the marvel that I promised?"
"Oh, it was, it was. A very wonder. I would say a name for it, Master."
"Say on."
"The Cave of Stars." Estel laughed. "Only one who has seen would understand, Master, for who would believe there are stars in a cave?"
Their laughter floated across to Rogarin and Savoron, who were drifting unworried and yet missing their riders. Both whinnied in response, calling them to the camp. Keni barked and galloped over, briefing the horses on the strange behaviour of their people.
The night was fine enough, and they made no fire. Food was taken as it was, and Vaneta's brew washed down the last of it. Estel sighed in satisfaction, and settled into a cranny wrapped in his cloak with Keni curled at his side. Sleep was near, but his mind still reviewed the many events of the day, some even astounding to him.
"Master..."
"My son?" the elf, too, was travelling far in his mind and came back only partly.
"What of your dada, Master?"
"My dada?" Glorfindel turned and searched Estel's face intently. He seemed to find no proper answer. "It is so long ago, I remember not," he said finally. "Sleep now, and come the morrow I may have recalled to mind somewhat."
Estel lay down and closed his eyes. Soon he was galloping across a dark plain, not on Rogarin but upon another mount, unknown to him as yet. Rogarin was at his side, and on him rode a huge shape of a man, with light in his eyes and upon his brow.
