Aragorn brushed aside the tent flat and indicated Dolengil was to precede
him. Entering behind him, Aragorn pulled out a simple wooden chair for the
healer in the anteroom of his tent. There was also a wooden table and two
other chairs, the remains of a meal and several maps. Light was provided by
candles on the table and three silver and glass hanging lanterns.
Aragorn went behind the wooden table and pushing aside the half-eaten meal, pulled a still cool ewer of wine to pour Dolengil a glass. Silently offering it to him, he took his half-finished goblet and sipped from it.
"Now, Master Dolengil, what can I do for you?"
Dolengil sat back in the chair, taking a large swallow of wine. Sighing he looked at his son and said, "My lord, an epidemic is indeed beginning to make itself felt in Minas Tirith. In the last few days, we have had almost 40 people come to the Halls complaining of the same symptoms, headache, fever, nausea and coughs. I feel we need to isolate the sick from the wounded."
"Have you not brought up the issue with Master Berem?"
"He is why I am here. Master Berem believes it is just congestion brought on the by the wind and the dry conditions. The man is a fool."
Aragorn grinned behind his raised goblet. "A fool indeed, but a well ensconced one. What would you have me do?"
"We need to find a place to move the sick. They must be kept from infecting the wounded."
"I agree. But as to a place large enough." Aragorn rose from behind the table and walked to the tent entrance, staring out into the bustling encampment.
Dolengil watched him as he drank his wine. Setting his goblet down he realized he should probably have no more, as exhaustion was nibbling at the edges of his strength.
"My lord, if it would be no trouble, I have not eaten." Dolengil reluctantly interrupted Aragorn's thought.
"Of course! What a remiss host I am!" He turned and called out the tent flap. "Ahfaren! Could I please have a plate of stew and some fruit?"
"At once my lord."
Aragorn turned to the healer. "It should not take long." He came up and looked sharply at Dolengil, noticing the weariness in his eyes and the slight slump of his shoulders. "I think it would be best if you spent the night as well, Master Dolengil. I am afraid we have no spare accommodations, but you are welcome to the floor of my tent. "
Dolengil looked up and nodded silently. He would need his strength when he returned to the city.
As the young soldier came in with a bowl of stew in one hand and two small apples in another, he smiled at the two occupants, bowed slightly and left the food on the edge of the table.
Aragorn brought the food and set it in front of Dolengil, who smiling his thanks began to eat with an appetite.
Taking a sip of wine, Aragorn wiped a hand across his face, waiting until Dolengil took the edge off his hunger.
Smiling when he saw that the bowl of stew was emptied quickly and the healer had grabbed an apple and was carving it in precise quarters for eating, Aragorn leaned forward, elbows on the table, hands folded before his face.
"I think I have thought of the perfect place Master Dolengil."
Dolengil wiped his face with his napkin, and relaxed in his chair as he popped a piece of apple into his mouth. Feeling pleasantly full, he smiled at his son, idly twirling the stem of his wooden goblet. "Yes, and where would that be?"
"Why the court ballroom in the main palace!"
"Whatever made you think of that my lord?"
"One of my companions from Mirkwood, Prince Legolas and I were taken on a tour of the palace one afternoon when I was summoned to a meeting with the Steward right after I arrived here. I remember we both commented on how most of the populace of Minas Tirith would fit in there. It is huge! And it even has several alcoves that could be used for the very sick."
"The ballroom of the palace.......an elegant solution! Can you convince the Steward to allow this?"
"I shall use all my skills to persuade him. Tomorrow. Now, I think you need to rest."
Dolengil smiled in real pleasure as he rose. What a man Estel had become! "I will take you up on your kind offer my lord." Looking around, he asked, "Where would you like me?"
Aragorn slipped around the table, and lifting a chest and putting it behind the table, he indicted the spot along the eastern wall of the tent. He then went into the one inner room of the tent where he slept. Bringing out two folded blankets, he laid one on the rug and then offered the other one to the healer.
"Thank you my lord, this will do nicely."
"Then I bid you good night." Aragorn paused to lay a hand on the healer's shoulder and went into the inner room, pulling the flap closed.
Dolengil lay down and threw the blanket over himself. He fell asleep in minutes.
Much later that night, Aragorn arose thirsty and went into the common room for a carafe of water that sat on the table with the wine. Glancing at Dolengil cursorily, he stopped surprised. The healer lay on his back, his eyes half open in Elvish sleep, the faint light from a slow burning candle on the table catching in his silver eyes.
Silver eyes........
He reached out and grabbing the candle, he slowly went over to the healer and stood over him. Those eyes.......
He saw that one of the edges of the cloth that normally wrapped the bottom of his face had pulled loose. His moment of polite hesitation was swallowed by a sudden overwhelming need to see the healer's face. Quietly, as only a Ranger could, Aragorn bent and carefully lifted the edge off the exhausted elf's features, the candle throwing soft light on the sleeping form.
Revealing his father's peaceful face.
Dropping the cloth as if burned, Aragorn stepped away from....Elrond and leaving the candle on the edge of the table, he went swiftly back to bed. Sitting on the slightly raised mattress, he put his head in his hands, dumbfounded.
What was Elrond doing here? Why had he not let Aragorn know he had come to Minas Tirith? He raised his head and looked sightless across his room to the closed flap of tent.
And more importantly, what was he going to do now that he knew?
He lay back down and curled up on his left side, staring at the small oil lamp that lay burning at his bedside. Ada! Here! He smiled, how wonderful! But then the smile wavered. Would his father allow him this information or would he throw a glamour on himself? And perhaps he already had....it wasn't something Elrond had ever done around Aragorn, but he did not doubt his father was capable of it.
His father here in Minas Tirith.....and HOW he had gotten here would be another nagging question that needed answering.
Grinning, he closed his eyes.
Dolengil stirred and woke. Noting the height of the one candle on the table told him it was deep in the middle watches of the night. When he sat up, his right hand cracked a puddle of wax near his shoulder. He frowned slightly as his face covering slipped off, unveiling his features. Adjusting it automatically, he heard Aragorn stir in the room beyond and Elrond went still. The candle had moved from its position from the center of the table and was now at the edge, closest to Aragorn.
Heart sinking, Elrond stood and straightened his robes.
Aragorn knew his true identity.
Pulling back the flap leading into his son's room, Elrond stood a moment smiling and then went up to him. He was not going to remember this little mistake.
Laying his cool hand on his son's forehead, he was startled by the sudden strong grip on his wrist as Aragorn twisted out from under his father's palm.
"No Ada! Do not make me forget! I do not want to!"
"I am afraid I must my son, it would complicate things immeasurably if you knew I was here. No one must know. Especially the Enemy! It could make things very bad for you."
"The Enemy will never know from me father! No one! Not Legolas nor Gimili either." Aragorn released his father's hand and slipped quickly to the other side of the bed and stood up facing him across the rumpled bedclothes. "I would never betray your trust!"
"Of course not! But what if, oh Elbereth forbid, you were taken captive and revealed my presence? I could never live with myself!"
"If I was taken father, then everything would change and I imagine the war, and the world would go a different path. I will not fail you father! I have too much to lose!"
"As do I!" Elrond moved around the bed, his eyes full of pleading. "Estel, please, let us just go on as we have." He lifted a hand towards his son.
"No Ada. Trust me to be a man about this! When we win this war and the Ring is destroyed, I shall be what you wanted: The King of Arnor and Gondor. A worthy man.....a man deserving of Arwen. Cannot you trust me in this matter?' Aragorn moved closer to his father, resolutely. "Am I not worthy in your eyes?" He did not flinch as he stared into his father's silver eyes narrowed in consternation.
The silence stretched out and then both were startled by a hissing sound coming from the candle as some flying insect burned in the flame.
Smiling nervously, Aragorn tilted his head, his grin crooked. "Come father. Trust me!"
Elrond felt himself relaxing suddenly and his expression softened. He raised his hand to his son's face, who did not recoil an inch and ran it softly down his cheek.
"I trust you Estel." The two then hugged the other tight for a long minute and then pulled back, both with suspiciously moist eyes.
Aragorn sat on the bed and patted the mattress next to him. "You must tell me how all this came about! I want to know all about your stay in the White City!"
Elrond, slowly unveiling his face, wanted to talk all night, but knowing both he and his son had long hard days ahead of them, decided the tale could be saved for another time, when things were not so perilous.
Laughing at the light of eagerness in Aragorn's eyes, just as they had when he was a small boy and wanted to hear yet one more story of the Second Age before bed, Elrond sat next to his son and turned to him. Catching his son's attention and focusing his power, Elrond's gaze grew more intense and Aragorn blinked rapidly, mouth slightly opened and this time, when Elrond brought a hand to his face and touched him gently between the eyes, he slumped boneless back on the mattress with a sigh.
Elrond, his face softened by love, pulled his sons legs back on the bed, covered him up and dropped a kiss on his brow.
"A worthy man you are, my Estel, but your father still has a few tricks up his sleeve! Sleep well!"
Elrond returned to his place on the floor in the outer room and was soon asleep himself.
The next morning when Aragorn awoke, he leapt out of bed to make sure he had not dreamed last night. Rushing to the tent flap, he yanked it opened to find his father sitting quietly at the table, slicing the apple left from the night before.
Raising an eyebrow in question, Elrond said calmly, "Yes my son? Oversleep? I have taken the liberty of ordering breakfast for us both."
"Of course Ada, thank you. I shall be out in a moment."
Aragorn went back into his room and got dressed and in spite of himself, he rushed, afraid he would come out and still find Elrond's presence a dream.
But once again, the elf lord sat at his plain wooden table, eating the last of the apple.
At that moment, a young soldier came in carrying a tray with two wooden bowls of hot cereal, more apples and hot tea. With a quick bow to the occupants, he left.
Unable to help himself, Aragorn grinned from ear to ear as he sat opposite his father and helped himself to one of the bowls of cereal.
"I do not remember what we talked about last night Ada. Weren't you going to tell me about life in the White City?"
"Perhaps Estel we should save a recounting of my adventures for another time." He looked at his son, his expression serious. "We have an epidemic to deal with right now."
"Of course, you're right." He held his tea mug with both hands and blowing on it he looked at his father, still smiling. "But do not think I shall forget!"
"Not for a moment, my son."
Aragorn feeling more happy than he had, since well, he didn't know when finished his breakfast quickly.
Before they left the tent, Elrond covered his face in his customary manner. "You must remember not call me "father" or "Ada" please. As I shall remember not to call you Estel.my lord."
"As you wish.Master Dolengil." and the two laughed as they went through the camp towards their horses.
Pausing by the injured soldier who was going to go through dispatches for Aragorn, he called out cheerily "Feman, are you awake?"
"Yes, my lord." The soldier limped to the entrance to the tent and bowed slightly to the two standing there. "Do you need me to get the dispatches?"
"Go ahead with them, Feman. I need to go to Minas Tirith with Master Dolengil here and see to a problem there. I shall probably be gone most of the day. If anything needs my immediate attention, and it is at all possible, send to me at the palace. All right? Otherwise Prince Legolas can take care of it. We will use this quiet to recoup."
"Yes my lord."
Aragorn clapped him on the shoulder gently and the two moved on towards the picket lines to retrieve their horses.
Aragorn went behind the wooden table and pushing aside the half-eaten meal, pulled a still cool ewer of wine to pour Dolengil a glass. Silently offering it to him, he took his half-finished goblet and sipped from it.
"Now, Master Dolengil, what can I do for you?"
Dolengil sat back in the chair, taking a large swallow of wine. Sighing he looked at his son and said, "My lord, an epidemic is indeed beginning to make itself felt in Minas Tirith. In the last few days, we have had almost 40 people come to the Halls complaining of the same symptoms, headache, fever, nausea and coughs. I feel we need to isolate the sick from the wounded."
"Have you not brought up the issue with Master Berem?"
"He is why I am here. Master Berem believes it is just congestion brought on the by the wind and the dry conditions. The man is a fool."
Aragorn grinned behind his raised goblet. "A fool indeed, but a well ensconced one. What would you have me do?"
"We need to find a place to move the sick. They must be kept from infecting the wounded."
"I agree. But as to a place large enough." Aragorn rose from behind the table and walked to the tent entrance, staring out into the bustling encampment.
Dolengil watched him as he drank his wine. Setting his goblet down he realized he should probably have no more, as exhaustion was nibbling at the edges of his strength.
"My lord, if it would be no trouble, I have not eaten." Dolengil reluctantly interrupted Aragorn's thought.
"Of course! What a remiss host I am!" He turned and called out the tent flap. "Ahfaren! Could I please have a plate of stew and some fruit?"
"At once my lord."
Aragorn turned to the healer. "It should not take long." He came up and looked sharply at Dolengil, noticing the weariness in his eyes and the slight slump of his shoulders. "I think it would be best if you spent the night as well, Master Dolengil. I am afraid we have no spare accommodations, but you are welcome to the floor of my tent. "
Dolengil looked up and nodded silently. He would need his strength when he returned to the city.
As the young soldier came in with a bowl of stew in one hand and two small apples in another, he smiled at the two occupants, bowed slightly and left the food on the edge of the table.
Aragorn brought the food and set it in front of Dolengil, who smiling his thanks began to eat with an appetite.
Taking a sip of wine, Aragorn wiped a hand across his face, waiting until Dolengil took the edge off his hunger.
Smiling when he saw that the bowl of stew was emptied quickly and the healer had grabbed an apple and was carving it in precise quarters for eating, Aragorn leaned forward, elbows on the table, hands folded before his face.
"I think I have thought of the perfect place Master Dolengil."
Dolengil wiped his face with his napkin, and relaxed in his chair as he popped a piece of apple into his mouth. Feeling pleasantly full, he smiled at his son, idly twirling the stem of his wooden goblet. "Yes, and where would that be?"
"Why the court ballroom in the main palace!"
"Whatever made you think of that my lord?"
"One of my companions from Mirkwood, Prince Legolas and I were taken on a tour of the palace one afternoon when I was summoned to a meeting with the Steward right after I arrived here. I remember we both commented on how most of the populace of Minas Tirith would fit in there. It is huge! And it even has several alcoves that could be used for the very sick."
"The ballroom of the palace.......an elegant solution! Can you convince the Steward to allow this?"
"I shall use all my skills to persuade him. Tomorrow. Now, I think you need to rest."
Dolengil smiled in real pleasure as he rose. What a man Estel had become! "I will take you up on your kind offer my lord." Looking around, he asked, "Where would you like me?"
Aragorn slipped around the table, and lifting a chest and putting it behind the table, he indicted the spot along the eastern wall of the tent. He then went into the one inner room of the tent where he slept. Bringing out two folded blankets, he laid one on the rug and then offered the other one to the healer.
"Thank you my lord, this will do nicely."
"Then I bid you good night." Aragorn paused to lay a hand on the healer's shoulder and went into the inner room, pulling the flap closed.
Dolengil lay down and threw the blanket over himself. He fell asleep in minutes.
Much later that night, Aragorn arose thirsty and went into the common room for a carafe of water that sat on the table with the wine. Glancing at Dolengil cursorily, he stopped surprised. The healer lay on his back, his eyes half open in Elvish sleep, the faint light from a slow burning candle on the table catching in his silver eyes.
Silver eyes........
He reached out and grabbing the candle, he slowly went over to the healer and stood over him. Those eyes.......
He saw that one of the edges of the cloth that normally wrapped the bottom of his face had pulled loose. His moment of polite hesitation was swallowed by a sudden overwhelming need to see the healer's face. Quietly, as only a Ranger could, Aragorn bent and carefully lifted the edge off the exhausted elf's features, the candle throwing soft light on the sleeping form.
Revealing his father's peaceful face.
Dropping the cloth as if burned, Aragorn stepped away from....Elrond and leaving the candle on the edge of the table, he went swiftly back to bed. Sitting on the slightly raised mattress, he put his head in his hands, dumbfounded.
What was Elrond doing here? Why had he not let Aragorn know he had come to Minas Tirith? He raised his head and looked sightless across his room to the closed flap of tent.
And more importantly, what was he going to do now that he knew?
He lay back down and curled up on his left side, staring at the small oil lamp that lay burning at his bedside. Ada! Here! He smiled, how wonderful! But then the smile wavered. Would his father allow him this information or would he throw a glamour on himself? And perhaps he already had....it wasn't something Elrond had ever done around Aragorn, but he did not doubt his father was capable of it.
His father here in Minas Tirith.....and HOW he had gotten here would be another nagging question that needed answering.
Grinning, he closed his eyes.
Dolengil stirred and woke. Noting the height of the one candle on the table told him it was deep in the middle watches of the night. When he sat up, his right hand cracked a puddle of wax near his shoulder. He frowned slightly as his face covering slipped off, unveiling his features. Adjusting it automatically, he heard Aragorn stir in the room beyond and Elrond went still. The candle had moved from its position from the center of the table and was now at the edge, closest to Aragorn.
Heart sinking, Elrond stood and straightened his robes.
Aragorn knew his true identity.
Pulling back the flap leading into his son's room, Elrond stood a moment smiling and then went up to him. He was not going to remember this little mistake.
Laying his cool hand on his son's forehead, he was startled by the sudden strong grip on his wrist as Aragorn twisted out from under his father's palm.
"No Ada! Do not make me forget! I do not want to!"
"I am afraid I must my son, it would complicate things immeasurably if you knew I was here. No one must know. Especially the Enemy! It could make things very bad for you."
"The Enemy will never know from me father! No one! Not Legolas nor Gimili either." Aragorn released his father's hand and slipped quickly to the other side of the bed and stood up facing him across the rumpled bedclothes. "I would never betray your trust!"
"Of course not! But what if, oh Elbereth forbid, you were taken captive and revealed my presence? I could never live with myself!"
"If I was taken father, then everything would change and I imagine the war, and the world would go a different path. I will not fail you father! I have too much to lose!"
"As do I!" Elrond moved around the bed, his eyes full of pleading. "Estel, please, let us just go on as we have." He lifted a hand towards his son.
"No Ada. Trust me to be a man about this! When we win this war and the Ring is destroyed, I shall be what you wanted: The King of Arnor and Gondor. A worthy man.....a man deserving of Arwen. Cannot you trust me in this matter?' Aragorn moved closer to his father, resolutely. "Am I not worthy in your eyes?" He did not flinch as he stared into his father's silver eyes narrowed in consternation.
The silence stretched out and then both were startled by a hissing sound coming from the candle as some flying insect burned in the flame.
Smiling nervously, Aragorn tilted his head, his grin crooked. "Come father. Trust me!"
Elrond felt himself relaxing suddenly and his expression softened. He raised his hand to his son's face, who did not recoil an inch and ran it softly down his cheek.
"I trust you Estel." The two then hugged the other tight for a long minute and then pulled back, both with suspiciously moist eyes.
Aragorn sat on the bed and patted the mattress next to him. "You must tell me how all this came about! I want to know all about your stay in the White City!"
Elrond, slowly unveiling his face, wanted to talk all night, but knowing both he and his son had long hard days ahead of them, decided the tale could be saved for another time, when things were not so perilous.
Laughing at the light of eagerness in Aragorn's eyes, just as they had when he was a small boy and wanted to hear yet one more story of the Second Age before bed, Elrond sat next to his son and turned to him. Catching his son's attention and focusing his power, Elrond's gaze grew more intense and Aragorn blinked rapidly, mouth slightly opened and this time, when Elrond brought a hand to his face and touched him gently between the eyes, he slumped boneless back on the mattress with a sigh.
Elrond, his face softened by love, pulled his sons legs back on the bed, covered him up and dropped a kiss on his brow.
"A worthy man you are, my Estel, but your father still has a few tricks up his sleeve! Sleep well!"
Elrond returned to his place on the floor in the outer room and was soon asleep himself.
The next morning when Aragorn awoke, he leapt out of bed to make sure he had not dreamed last night. Rushing to the tent flap, he yanked it opened to find his father sitting quietly at the table, slicing the apple left from the night before.
Raising an eyebrow in question, Elrond said calmly, "Yes my son? Oversleep? I have taken the liberty of ordering breakfast for us both."
"Of course Ada, thank you. I shall be out in a moment."
Aragorn went back into his room and got dressed and in spite of himself, he rushed, afraid he would come out and still find Elrond's presence a dream.
But once again, the elf lord sat at his plain wooden table, eating the last of the apple.
At that moment, a young soldier came in carrying a tray with two wooden bowls of hot cereal, more apples and hot tea. With a quick bow to the occupants, he left.
Unable to help himself, Aragorn grinned from ear to ear as he sat opposite his father and helped himself to one of the bowls of cereal.
"I do not remember what we talked about last night Ada. Weren't you going to tell me about life in the White City?"
"Perhaps Estel we should save a recounting of my adventures for another time." He looked at his son, his expression serious. "We have an epidemic to deal with right now."
"Of course, you're right." He held his tea mug with both hands and blowing on it he looked at his father, still smiling. "But do not think I shall forget!"
"Not for a moment, my son."
Aragorn feeling more happy than he had, since well, he didn't know when finished his breakfast quickly.
Before they left the tent, Elrond covered his face in his customary manner. "You must remember not call me "father" or "Ada" please. As I shall remember not to call you Estel.my lord."
"As you wish.Master Dolengil." and the two laughed as they went through the camp towards their horses.
Pausing by the injured soldier who was going to go through dispatches for Aragorn, he called out cheerily "Feman, are you awake?"
"Yes, my lord." The soldier limped to the entrance to the tent and bowed slightly to the two standing there. "Do you need me to get the dispatches?"
"Go ahead with them, Feman. I need to go to Minas Tirith with Master Dolengil here and see to a problem there. I shall probably be gone most of the day. If anything needs my immediate attention, and it is at all possible, send to me at the palace. All right? Otherwise Prince Legolas can take care of it. We will use this quiet to recoup."
"Yes my lord."
Aragorn clapped him on the shoulder gently and the two moved on towards the picket lines to retrieve their horses.