A/N: This chapter is nearly all due to excessive help and hand-holding by the amazing Margit, and of course the intrinsically fascinating Pennhothwen ;-P
Disclaimer: Not mine, fools!
(The Short) Chapter Eleven: Talk
I awoke, my arms still around Eldarion, and his around mine. He was already awake, staring at me with a strange expression on his face.
"What are you thinking?" I asked, curious. A thought came to my mind: there was much about him I did not know, and would like to.
"I was thinking...that it has only been a short while since we met, and that I have never felt this way about anyone before, nor done...anything like this," he replied, blushing slightly.
"It has been a short time. And I have never known anyone besides you and the man who raised me! But I feel no different about you for it...something in my heart tells me that you are to me what I am to you."
"Is it really something in your heart? For I know that you are of the Valar, and I think that the woman that visited me in my dream was one...tell me, has she spoken of me, to you?"
I swallowed, hesitating. "She told me...she told me that we were destined. That it was right that I had found you."
"Then my heart has not spoken wrongly," he said, and sighed in relief. "Entling..."
"Yes?"
"I found you outside Fangorn, traveling West. Yet the only place that fits your description is the Ered-Nimrais, that we travel to! Where are you from?"
"I know not...somewhere hilly, and rocky. The trees were tough and strong. There was an earthquake, and I found myself in...Fangorn, if that is what your people call the big forest. I spoke to an Ent, and learned of my quest. I think that it was no mere chance you happened upon me."
There was a pause, rich in contemplation. I could not read his eyes until he lifted them to me. There was confusion there, but also something that spoke to my heart, something that stirred within me with a lifting sensation.
"And you know nothing of where you come from? That is strange to me. I know most of the history of my city; my father has taught me much, and I have studied with the Steward Faramir..."
"I know a little of your city; the man who raised me spoke much of Gondor. I think he was once of your city- though he did not speak as you do."
"It is beautiful, the White City. Someday, I would that you could see it."
A pang, inexplicable, went through my heart as he said this.
"Why did you leave your city? It seems to me that having parents is a gift, and gifts are not things to be thrown aside lightly." I spoke from memory, something the man who raised me had said once when I asked about my green stone.
"I am a Ranger, Entling. My father wandered for many years before he became King,
and made a name for himself in the lands of Middle-Earth. If I am to succeed him, can I do less?"
He said this with great gravity, so I felt I had to believe him. However, I could not keep myself from wondering what it meant to be a Ranger. For from his words to me it seemed to be a fate with a burden heavier than any I had known before, as it meant to wander far and away, knowing neither home nor roots. For the Ents had the trees to their company who talked to them, but a Ranger had none of this.
"Why is it so important to make a name for yourself? And why must you wander to do it?"
"To be a King, I must know my people. I cannot learn kingship by sitting in a palace- nay, I must learn by seeing what there is to see, learning what there is to know. There is more to Gondor than Minas Tirith only," he explained patiently.
"What have you seen? There is much that I would know! My roots lie in one place only, yet you seem to have none, and I have seen so little! Tell me everything."
Something in his eyes glinted. "To tell you all that I know would take long," he said softly,
"for I have traveled for long years."
"I have time," I assured him.
A/N: That's the end of the chapter. I thought it implied a longer conversation, and I'm not quite skilled and/or knowledgeable enough to put in the conversation…I actually thought it was a decent place to stop :-P
