Author's note: This is the last in a series, but it isn't necessary to have
read the other stories in the series first. It's probably helpful, and if
you plan on reading the others then read them first, since this one will
give away the plots of the others.
Just a few points. The silver tree in a broach given by the king to someone who does something of great service to Gondor. Merry, Pippin, Legolas, Gimli and Sal all have one, along with the Ranger Jaren.
Sal was exiled for treachery but never actually betrayed King Elessar. It's complicated, so go and read When Fortune Fails if you want to know more. Sal was Elessar's bodyguard for a while, and his sword, fortune, was a gift from him.
If there's anything else in this you don't understand just ask in a review.
***
Parlond, one of the king's bodyguards, was surprised by the sound of a small laugh from the prince's bedroom. It wasn't the laugh that was surprising, but that it came in the middle of the night. The laugh came again, and Parlond decided it was his duty to see what was going on. Besides, he was curious.
He knocked on the door, and then pushed it open. Eldarion, the twelve-year- old prince, was sitting on the edge of his bed, his little sister, Elmarith, on his lap. The young princess was sucking her thumb and giggling.
"Shouldn't you both be asleep?" Parlond asked.
"Sa's here," Elmarith said, taking her thumb from her mouth for a moment.
"'Sa'?"
"She thinks there's a troll under her bed," Eldarion explained. Parlond struggled not to laugh.
"Well, maybe I should take you back to your room," he suggested, "and I'll make sure there are no trolls there." He held out his arms and picked her up. She certainly looked sleepy as she curled against his chest.
"'Night, Rion," she said.
"Goodnight," Eldarion said, his expression showing clearly that he was trying not to laugh. He wasn't old enough to have learned how to school his expressions yet. Parlond suspected he was up to some mischief, but he was just a child and all children were entitled to mischief now and then. Parlond decided to leave him be.
As soon as he had left the room with Elmarith in his arms, Eldarion started laughing quietly. A man stepped out of the shadows in the corner.
"That was good thinking," the man commented.
"It's true," Rion said, "she really does think there's a troll under her bed." The man started laughing as well.
"I probably ought to go now," he said after a while, "I wouldn't want you to get in trouble for associating with exiles."
"Will you come back tomorrow?"
"No, your father said he has a job for me to do, so I don't know when I'll next be able to come."
"Goodbye," Eldarion said.
"Good bye, Rion." And with that, the man climbed out the window. Rion watched him go. Since Sal had rescued him from kidnappers two years ago, he had come to visit him often. He always came at night though, since he was charged with death if he was found in Minas Tirith, which meant Rion was always tired the next day. His father, King Elessar understood however, since Sal would always visit him as well when he was in the city.
***
Parlond was summoned to King Elessar's study the next morning, and approached to the sound of arguing. Ralisay's came clearly through the door.
"If you recall what happened the last time you failed to listen to me on this subject, perhaps you will reconsider," Ralisay was almost shouting.
"Why don't you go and find Parlond," the king suggested calmly, "and accuse him of treachery to his face." Parlond, standing in the corridor, swelled with fury at the thought that Ralisay could believe such a thing.
"I meant no accusation," Ralisay said quickly.
"It didn't sound like that to me," Elessar replied.
"All I meant was that one bodyguard is hardly enough to protect you should you run into danger."
"So now you are suggesting I am unable to defend myself?" From his place in the corridor, Parlond realised that Elessar was deliberately trying to weaken Ralisay's position in the argument. It was clear the advisor had meant no such thing, but by suggesting it himself, Elessar was forcing Ralisay to defend himself so he could no longer argue his point. He had probably not meant any insult to Parlond either.
"If you were against an overwhelming force," Ralisay replied skilfully, "even your great skill might not be enough. There is no harm in being cautious."
"If it would comfort you," Elessar said, "I will ask one of my Rangers to accompany us." While it might seem to a stranger that Ralisay had won the argument, Parlond knew that Ralisay must have been trying to get Elessar to take a battalion of soldiers with him. Ralisay feared danger in every shadow, and spent his life trying to convince everyone else to do the same.
He waited a moment, and then knocked on the door, so hopefully they wouldn't guess he had been listening, though he hardly needed to listen to overhear what the two had been saying.
"Enter," King Elessar called. Parlond did so. The king was seated behind his desk, and Ralisay was standing in front of it, an expression of anger on his face which the king seemed unaware of.
"Ah, Parlond," the king said, "in a few days I will be travelling north, and Ralisay has insisted I need protection. I would like you to accompany me."
"Yes, Your Majesty," Parlond said calmly, though inwardly he was delighted. He had always wanted to see some of the places he only heard about in tales. To be given such an opportunity was amazing.
"Make whatever arrangements and farewells as you must," the king continued, "for I expect the journey will take several months."
"Yes, Your Majesty," Parlond said again, and he left with a bow. He wasn't sure which pleased him more, that he would be able to travel the world, or that King Elessar trusted him with such a task.
***
Sal lay unnoticed on a stone floor, a terrible pain in his chest. His sword, fortune, lay nearby. For some reason, he knew he had to remain unnoticed, and tried to look around without moving. Fear pierced his very soul, and it took all the control he had not to panic and flee.
Two figures who Sal couldn't see clearly from his position were bound nearby. A man stood closer to him still, his back towards Sal. He was facing someone Sal recognised, who was being held in position by orcs. Sal heard the taunting words coming from the man closest to him, and knew him to be an enemy. Slowly, Sal's hand crept towards the hilt of his sword.
The man didn't notice, and continued taunting the one in front of him. Faramir, Sal remembered who he was. The Prince of Ithilien. There was something familiar about this situation, but Sal couldn't remember what it was. His hand gripped the hilt of fortune, just as fear tightened its grip around Sal's heart. Something terrible was about to happen.
He jumped to his feet, and drove his sword into the man's heart.
"NO!" Faramir cried, as he watched his brother die before his eyes. Sal remembered. He knew the name of the man he had just killed, and knew how much he had hurt someone he respected.
Fortune clattered to the ground, and Sal looked down at his hands. They were stained red with blood. As he watched, the blood seemed to disappear, seeping below the skin into Sal's own. Bewitched by some terrible fear, he tried to get rid of the blood, wiping his hands on his dirty shirt, but it was too late. The damage had been done, and he was terrified.
Sal came awake with a cry. He sat up and found a mist covering his vision. He blinked and the mist was gone, but the fear his dream had left him with remained. Trembling, he looked around him. He was lying in a small hollow near Minas Tirith. Safe. Then why couldn't he be rid of this feeling of dread?
***
Author's note: Eldarion and Elmarith won't actually play much of a part in this story, I just couldn't resist the bit about a troll under the bed. Please review.
Just a few points. The silver tree in a broach given by the king to someone who does something of great service to Gondor. Merry, Pippin, Legolas, Gimli and Sal all have one, along with the Ranger Jaren.
Sal was exiled for treachery but never actually betrayed King Elessar. It's complicated, so go and read When Fortune Fails if you want to know more. Sal was Elessar's bodyguard for a while, and his sword, fortune, was a gift from him.
If there's anything else in this you don't understand just ask in a review.
***
Parlond, one of the king's bodyguards, was surprised by the sound of a small laugh from the prince's bedroom. It wasn't the laugh that was surprising, but that it came in the middle of the night. The laugh came again, and Parlond decided it was his duty to see what was going on. Besides, he was curious.
He knocked on the door, and then pushed it open. Eldarion, the twelve-year- old prince, was sitting on the edge of his bed, his little sister, Elmarith, on his lap. The young princess was sucking her thumb and giggling.
"Shouldn't you both be asleep?" Parlond asked.
"Sa's here," Elmarith said, taking her thumb from her mouth for a moment.
"'Sa'?"
"She thinks there's a troll under her bed," Eldarion explained. Parlond struggled not to laugh.
"Well, maybe I should take you back to your room," he suggested, "and I'll make sure there are no trolls there." He held out his arms and picked her up. She certainly looked sleepy as she curled against his chest.
"'Night, Rion," she said.
"Goodnight," Eldarion said, his expression showing clearly that he was trying not to laugh. He wasn't old enough to have learned how to school his expressions yet. Parlond suspected he was up to some mischief, but he was just a child and all children were entitled to mischief now and then. Parlond decided to leave him be.
As soon as he had left the room with Elmarith in his arms, Eldarion started laughing quietly. A man stepped out of the shadows in the corner.
"That was good thinking," the man commented.
"It's true," Rion said, "she really does think there's a troll under her bed." The man started laughing as well.
"I probably ought to go now," he said after a while, "I wouldn't want you to get in trouble for associating with exiles."
"Will you come back tomorrow?"
"No, your father said he has a job for me to do, so I don't know when I'll next be able to come."
"Goodbye," Eldarion said.
"Good bye, Rion." And with that, the man climbed out the window. Rion watched him go. Since Sal had rescued him from kidnappers two years ago, he had come to visit him often. He always came at night though, since he was charged with death if he was found in Minas Tirith, which meant Rion was always tired the next day. His father, King Elessar understood however, since Sal would always visit him as well when he was in the city.
***
Parlond was summoned to King Elessar's study the next morning, and approached to the sound of arguing. Ralisay's came clearly through the door.
"If you recall what happened the last time you failed to listen to me on this subject, perhaps you will reconsider," Ralisay was almost shouting.
"Why don't you go and find Parlond," the king suggested calmly, "and accuse him of treachery to his face." Parlond, standing in the corridor, swelled with fury at the thought that Ralisay could believe such a thing.
"I meant no accusation," Ralisay said quickly.
"It didn't sound like that to me," Elessar replied.
"All I meant was that one bodyguard is hardly enough to protect you should you run into danger."
"So now you are suggesting I am unable to defend myself?" From his place in the corridor, Parlond realised that Elessar was deliberately trying to weaken Ralisay's position in the argument. It was clear the advisor had meant no such thing, but by suggesting it himself, Elessar was forcing Ralisay to defend himself so he could no longer argue his point. He had probably not meant any insult to Parlond either.
"If you were against an overwhelming force," Ralisay replied skilfully, "even your great skill might not be enough. There is no harm in being cautious."
"If it would comfort you," Elessar said, "I will ask one of my Rangers to accompany us." While it might seem to a stranger that Ralisay had won the argument, Parlond knew that Ralisay must have been trying to get Elessar to take a battalion of soldiers with him. Ralisay feared danger in every shadow, and spent his life trying to convince everyone else to do the same.
He waited a moment, and then knocked on the door, so hopefully they wouldn't guess he had been listening, though he hardly needed to listen to overhear what the two had been saying.
"Enter," King Elessar called. Parlond did so. The king was seated behind his desk, and Ralisay was standing in front of it, an expression of anger on his face which the king seemed unaware of.
"Ah, Parlond," the king said, "in a few days I will be travelling north, and Ralisay has insisted I need protection. I would like you to accompany me."
"Yes, Your Majesty," Parlond said calmly, though inwardly he was delighted. He had always wanted to see some of the places he only heard about in tales. To be given such an opportunity was amazing.
"Make whatever arrangements and farewells as you must," the king continued, "for I expect the journey will take several months."
"Yes, Your Majesty," Parlond said again, and he left with a bow. He wasn't sure which pleased him more, that he would be able to travel the world, or that King Elessar trusted him with such a task.
***
Sal lay unnoticed on a stone floor, a terrible pain in his chest. His sword, fortune, lay nearby. For some reason, he knew he had to remain unnoticed, and tried to look around without moving. Fear pierced his very soul, and it took all the control he had not to panic and flee.
Two figures who Sal couldn't see clearly from his position were bound nearby. A man stood closer to him still, his back towards Sal. He was facing someone Sal recognised, who was being held in position by orcs. Sal heard the taunting words coming from the man closest to him, and knew him to be an enemy. Slowly, Sal's hand crept towards the hilt of his sword.
The man didn't notice, and continued taunting the one in front of him. Faramir, Sal remembered who he was. The Prince of Ithilien. There was something familiar about this situation, but Sal couldn't remember what it was. His hand gripped the hilt of fortune, just as fear tightened its grip around Sal's heart. Something terrible was about to happen.
He jumped to his feet, and drove his sword into the man's heart.
"NO!" Faramir cried, as he watched his brother die before his eyes. Sal remembered. He knew the name of the man he had just killed, and knew how much he had hurt someone he respected.
Fortune clattered to the ground, and Sal looked down at his hands. They were stained red with blood. As he watched, the blood seemed to disappear, seeping below the skin into Sal's own. Bewitched by some terrible fear, he tried to get rid of the blood, wiping his hands on his dirty shirt, but it was too late. The damage had been done, and he was terrified.
Sal came awake with a cry. He sat up and found a mist covering his vision. He blinked and the mist was gone, but the fear his dream had left him with remained. Trembling, he looked around him. He was lying in a small hollow near Minas Tirith. Safe. Then why couldn't he be rid of this feeling of dread?
***
Author's note: Eldarion and Elmarith won't actually play much of a part in this story, I just couldn't resist the bit about a troll under the bed. Please review.