Chapter 3: In sickness
What really strikes me about this, and what I really wanted to bring out is the amount of pressure and expectation that is on Aragorn in these years. He isn't on the final quest yet, he is proving himself in so many ways, to Elrond, to the Dunadain, to Gandalf, to Arwen, to the men of Rohan and Gondor, and to himself.
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He is just a boy really, and the marks of youth are still there, though hardly noticeable below the blood and marring they have left on his face. But still a boy, a child really. He is reminded of Halbarad when he first met him, only a youth of seventeen. This child is younger even still.
He had been told not to go, to stay back, but he had not listened, and has paid. This might be the end of them; for if he cannot find a way, no one will.
He is their last hope.
Suddenly, he is back at her bedside again, grasping her cold hands in his, unable to look at her face.
"I gave hope to the Dunadain, I have kept no hope for myself.' Comes the whisper, barely heard above the roaring in his ears. His hands, healer's hands – or so his foster father hints – cover hers and he bows his head over them. He can heal wounds, but how can he heal a broken spirit?
How can he heal a broken kingdom?
Months later, Elladan brings him news that she is dead. In a dead corner of the wild somewhere, he weeps.
I gave hope, but kept none for myself
Hope
Hope
Help me. You're my last hope
Estel, hope
Estel
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Mithrandir sat on the edge of the bed. Estel was quieter today, but the sheets around him were bathed in sweat. Below his concern, Mithrandir noted that this was the cleanest he had seen the man in several months, perhaps a year.
'Please thank your healers your majesty, they have done good work here.' The old wizard said, nodding to King Thranduil and Legolas, who stood by, 'Tell me his injuries.'
'Two broken ribs, 'Legolas replied, remembering the notes from the healer's briefing that morning, 'and they suspect that one of the ribs his injured his lung, he has deep cut into his thigh, not infected thankfully, but he also has a deep wound on his shoulder, possibly from an arrow. He has two large knots on his head and has been concussed sometime in the last two months.'
Mithrandir nodded thoughtfully, 'and the other wounds? His torso and arms?'
'The others are old, but very likely still painful, and he has torn stitches on those two of the wounds, which doubtless have been giving him trouble. The healers say that he was fortunate to have lasted this long before collapsing.' Legolas paused 'he has taken very little solid food since he arrived, and the fever hasn't broken.'
Mithrandir closed his eyes, he had some healing knowledge, but none to rival Elrond, or even Estel himself, but this was an appeal to his other skills. He placed his hand on the ranger's forehead. It was hot, but the hand he grasped was cold. Muttering a spell, he reached into the man's mind, calling him from the end of the darkness he walked in.
Legolas looked on anxiously, and did not realise he had forgotten to breathe until the wizard opened his eyes and exhaled deeply.
'He should sleep better, I have spoken into his mind and tried to call him back from the fever. He should be more at ease, but when he will awaken, I cannot say.' Mithrandir passed a hand over his eyes. 'His dreams are strange, and dark. So very dark,' he added the last part quietly, as if to himself. Thranduil put a hand on his shoulder, "As ever, you arrive just in time my friend."
'Hmm, what?' Mithrandir looked up 'I suppose so, but if I have it is hardly through any fault of my own.' He sighed, 'truth be told I hoped I would arrive earlier, and beat him to the wood.'
'Do you know how he came to be in this state?' Legolas inquired, 'had you set a date to arrive here by? How did you know he had Gollum in the first place?'
Mithrandir turned his gaze back to the still figure on the bed, then he looked Legolas in the eye. 'I have been in the South for some time, and have only lately found what I sought, of which I will not speak of now. I was making my way back, passing through Lothlorien, when I heard news, from the March wardens. Estel did not stop there long, for he desired not to expose the secrets of the Golden Wood to one who had been a spy for the Dark lord, but Haldir had received him at the southern border, and told me that he had rested for only a night before turning east towards Mirkwood.' Gandalf looked back at Estel, 'That was 17 days ago.'
'But that is at the very least 700 miles, in little over a month?' Even Thranduil's ever stoic countenance registered surprise at the thought.
'From Emyn Muil to Mirkwood?' the wizard replied, 'yes, though I know not where the creature was finally apprehended.'
'And with a captive.' Legolas broke in, his eyes filling with concern for his friend. 'Much of this fever is exhaustion I fear, for he would have been forced to watch day and night. But that does not explain his other injuries, did Haldir give you any hint?' Mithrandir shook his head. 'Haldir spoke of few injuries, and Estel could not be convinced to stay more than one night. And we both know how unreasonable he can be at times, when he has made up his mind. I think he came as quickly as he could, and would rather have risked his own health than the safety of the Golden Wood.'
Legolas nodded, of course he would have forgone his own health for the safety of others, it was just like the Ranger. But he wondered, for Arwen was in Lorien, and he knew that something had transpired between his friend, the Evenstar and the Lord of Imladris, but he had yet to speak to either of them about it yet. It seemed to him that his friend had been more solemn lately, and he wondered if there was a reason for it.
Gandalf sighed, breaking into the elf's thoughts, 'I was sorry to leave him, but my errand was too important. I suppose you both deserve some explanation. I will tell you what I know of his journey.'