******************************* Chapter 6: Homewards Bound
With the destruction of the palantir, Saruman the Wise was freed from the control of the Dark Lord. While Saruman, Gandalf and the Elves plan to move into Gondor to the aid of Minas Tirith, Aragorn remembers a verse of Malbereth the Seer from his youth, and resolves to head Northwards to the lost kingdom of Arnor - his homeland of old - to seek the fabled Dome of Fire and a weapon that might change the course of the War of the Ring ...
Meanwhile Sauron, his nefarious plans undone, burns with firey rage on his throne of stone ... ... and no news has been had of Frodo, or the Ring ...
Even from the Gap of Rohan, to which the Elven army had now removed, black clouds tinged with red could clearly be seen over Mordor. Gandalf and Saruman were standing at the outskirts of the camp, watching the storm silently.
"Sauron's wrath is terrible to behold. I fear he will wreak his vengeance on the kingdom of Gondor, and his blow will fall hardest on Minas Tirith. It will go ill with that city if we do not ride to her aid soon," mused Gandalf.
Saruman nodded slowly, "But no matter his hatred of Anarion's city, there will always be a special black spot in his heart for ..." He gestured towards where Aragorn was sitting with Arwen, a few hundred yards away. "He will have to endure terrible trials ere the end."
"You believe Sauron will seek the heir of Isildur, even when he is too distant to be a threat?" inquired Gandalf, bushy eyebrows raised.
"Sauron is grown great in malice and power, but he is still petty and will not forget his own grievances against Aragorns ancestry. If he rides with us to the White City, it will no doubt provoke the Dark Lord to intercept us before we can get there, with a force many times our number," muttered Saruman.
"But he would never stay behind! Not with such a great doom hanging over his people ..."
"Yet if he comes he would be useless to us. To survive a battle where every weapon of the enemy thirsts for his blood, and every black heart is keen to slay the King of Men, he will need his whole mind focussed on the task at hand. And he will not ... "
They watched as the couple exchanged a kiss
Gandalf looked to his superior, "Because of her?"
Saruman nodded grimly, "I fear that, in the heat of battle, his feelings for her will prove the undoing of both of them." He sighed. "But it is not for us to steer his fate, as always, the choice lies with him."
* * * * *
Aragorn stroked Arwens hair. "You should not have come after me," he chided gently, "It could have turned out worse for both of us." She laid down on the grass and put her head in his lap. She looked up at him lovingly, reached up, and gently pulled the Evenstar jewel out on its thin chain. She clasped the jewel in one small hand. "Remember what I said to you? This is my heart, I give it to whom I choose. And I'll always follow my heart."
"But what if ..." he began again... She whacked his shoulder playfully. "Don't lecture me! As Father knows, it doesn't work! And anyway, I'm older than you!" He grinned and rolled her off into the grass, "That's not fair! I've heard your brother mention the tent episode though." She glared at him. "Surely you're old enough to know better?" he inquired loftily. She dived at him and they rolled around in the grass, laughing. Elrond and Galadriel were looking on, trying to hide smiles. At last, Aragorn recovered his dignity and sat up. Arwen was lying in the grass watching him. He looked at her, bemused, then nodded towards her relations. She craned her head around, following his gaze, and saw her father and grandmother. A rosy blush fell across her fair face and she waved cheekily but muttered, "Great, that's really made their decade. I'll never live this down." She looked back to see Aragorn staring wistfully at the mountains. She nudged him with her foot, "Hey, Moody, what is it?" No response. She got up and sat down next to him. Her hand found his, and she kissed his cheek. He squeezed her hand gently in appreciation. Concerned, she looked at his face, "Something is troubling you isn't it? You've been lapsing into thinking surprisingly often for a Ranger. That can't be good." He smiled at her, but his face fell into melancholy again. "I keep having these dreams about the future. While in Orthanc," and he nodded darkly towards the black tower, "they were about you, but now that you are safe ..." She looked at him worriedly. "Carry on," she prompted. He sighed. "I cannot, it is all too confusing and disturbing. Before, I felt that I should journey to Gondor, and that the time to take up the kingship was at hand ... but now I feel that there are two paths I can tread in the war against Sauron, and my mind is torn." She took his hand and placed it on his chest. "Then follow the path your heart tells you, that is what I have always done." He looked at her gratefully. "Then I am decided. I shall travel northwards to Imladris, and then beyond, to chase my destiny in the cold Northlands. For there is a verse that my mother, Gilraen, told to me before her death. She said the Seer, Malbereth, spake it over me in my infancy:
'The streams of Fate are by mountains fed. Mountains blue with caverns red. Through fires scorching, white is seen Of blade of night, Starlight's gleam. Wrought in ages long since faded. Lost in battle to evil jaded. Forged of steel silver bright, No more remain in shadow of night Eternal. Oh Blade of Kings, be borne Once more to war, he who was shorn Of power waxes stronger in might. Oh remain you no longer in night. Bauglir's Bane, best evil again, and rest no more till torn in twain.'
Arwen looked puzzled. "I know 'Bauglir' was another name for Morgoth, the Great Enemy, but this verse makes no sense to me. I know not of any weapon that was used against him." She stared thoughtfully at the ground, before looking up, "I know, we will go to my father, he is learned in lore. Maybe the Wizards too will know something of this?"
* * * * *
Elrond looked grim after Aragorn repeated the lines. "We will speak naught of Morgoth, may his name be spoken with scorn. Suffice to say that 'Bauglir's Bane' was the great sword Ringil, also known as Starlight, born by the Elven king Fingolfin in his duel against the Evil one. Although he was killed, Ringil inflicted many wounds on the Enemy, and being wrought of mithril, rendered his sable armour useless. What became of it afterwards I do not know. Fingolfin's body was borne away by Thorndor, the King of the Eagles and laid in a tomb among the eyeries of the Northern Mountains. Of the weapon, who can say?
Saruman stepped forward, "I can. During the time I was still wandering these lands I heard rumour of the sword from dwarven scouts. During the Battle of Five Armies, so the greybeards say, a division of goblins scaled the mountains for a tactical advantage. They found and plundered the tomb, but that division never made it to the battle. It is said that the Shadow Hand of Morgoth rose up in flame and smote the bearers of the Sword. Perhaps it is still in the mountains somewhere, but I have no doubt it is cursed. It would be folly to seek it."
Aragorn looked at them all tiredly. "I cannot say whether this be folly or nay, but it is what I believe is my path in this war against Sauron. Maybe Narsil should be laid to rest in Imladris, for now anyway. Perhaps an heir of mine in the future shall stand in need of it, but I seek Ringil, weapon of the Elves." Arwen stood next to him. "Where you go, I go." Elrond covered his face with his hands. "Not again," he muttered. Saruman looked at them. "Do you wish to be the Fellowship of the Sword? Or the Two Riders perhaps? Aragorn shook his head. "We shall be nameless and numberless, at least until if ... when we return. Then we shall be the heralds of Destiny, or war against the Dark Lord, and maybe of suffering and death." He drew himself together, "But it shall be they who will suffer! We will prevail, the Last Alliance as of old. Elves and Men, united against evil! Take the army and head towards Gondor and ruin." He turned to Gandalf, "You, my most trusted advisor and teacher, take care of my people until we return" Elrond smiled, "And you had better take care of my daughter. But you shall not ride north alone, Galadriel and I shall accompany you, at least as far as Rivendell. Celeborn, Glorfindel, and my sons will lead our people to war."
At this moment, Legolas and Gimli barged their way forwards. "And we ride with you, all the way!" "Caverns, eh? Sounds like work for a Dwarf to me," growled Gimli, hefting his axe "And we swore to stay true to each other, until the end," chipped in Legolas, "So I'm in as well!" Gimli grunted, "We overheard what we're up against. Cursed swords, evil ghosts, Dark Lords ... all in a days work!" Aragorn embraced his loyal friends. "Then it is decided, We ride North!"
With the destruction of the palantir, Saruman the Wise was freed from the control of the Dark Lord. While Saruman, Gandalf and the Elves plan to move into Gondor to the aid of Minas Tirith, Aragorn remembers a verse of Malbereth the Seer from his youth, and resolves to head Northwards to the lost kingdom of Arnor - his homeland of old - to seek the fabled Dome of Fire and a weapon that might change the course of the War of the Ring ...
Meanwhile Sauron, his nefarious plans undone, burns with firey rage on his throne of stone ... ... and no news has been had of Frodo, or the Ring ...
Even from the Gap of Rohan, to which the Elven army had now removed, black clouds tinged with red could clearly be seen over Mordor. Gandalf and Saruman were standing at the outskirts of the camp, watching the storm silently.
"Sauron's wrath is terrible to behold. I fear he will wreak his vengeance on the kingdom of Gondor, and his blow will fall hardest on Minas Tirith. It will go ill with that city if we do not ride to her aid soon," mused Gandalf.
Saruman nodded slowly, "But no matter his hatred of Anarion's city, there will always be a special black spot in his heart for ..." He gestured towards where Aragorn was sitting with Arwen, a few hundred yards away. "He will have to endure terrible trials ere the end."
"You believe Sauron will seek the heir of Isildur, even when he is too distant to be a threat?" inquired Gandalf, bushy eyebrows raised.
"Sauron is grown great in malice and power, but he is still petty and will not forget his own grievances against Aragorns ancestry. If he rides with us to the White City, it will no doubt provoke the Dark Lord to intercept us before we can get there, with a force many times our number," muttered Saruman.
"But he would never stay behind! Not with such a great doom hanging over his people ..."
"Yet if he comes he would be useless to us. To survive a battle where every weapon of the enemy thirsts for his blood, and every black heart is keen to slay the King of Men, he will need his whole mind focussed on the task at hand. And he will not ... "
They watched as the couple exchanged a kiss
Gandalf looked to his superior, "Because of her?"
Saruman nodded grimly, "I fear that, in the heat of battle, his feelings for her will prove the undoing of both of them." He sighed. "But it is not for us to steer his fate, as always, the choice lies with him."
* * * * *
Aragorn stroked Arwens hair. "You should not have come after me," he chided gently, "It could have turned out worse for both of us." She laid down on the grass and put her head in his lap. She looked up at him lovingly, reached up, and gently pulled the Evenstar jewel out on its thin chain. She clasped the jewel in one small hand. "Remember what I said to you? This is my heart, I give it to whom I choose. And I'll always follow my heart."
"But what if ..." he began again... She whacked his shoulder playfully. "Don't lecture me! As Father knows, it doesn't work! And anyway, I'm older than you!" He grinned and rolled her off into the grass, "That's not fair! I've heard your brother mention the tent episode though." She glared at him. "Surely you're old enough to know better?" he inquired loftily. She dived at him and they rolled around in the grass, laughing. Elrond and Galadriel were looking on, trying to hide smiles. At last, Aragorn recovered his dignity and sat up. Arwen was lying in the grass watching him. He looked at her, bemused, then nodded towards her relations. She craned her head around, following his gaze, and saw her father and grandmother. A rosy blush fell across her fair face and she waved cheekily but muttered, "Great, that's really made their decade. I'll never live this down." She looked back to see Aragorn staring wistfully at the mountains. She nudged him with her foot, "Hey, Moody, what is it?" No response. She got up and sat down next to him. Her hand found his, and she kissed his cheek. He squeezed her hand gently in appreciation. Concerned, she looked at his face, "Something is troubling you isn't it? You've been lapsing into thinking surprisingly often for a Ranger. That can't be good." He smiled at her, but his face fell into melancholy again. "I keep having these dreams about the future. While in Orthanc," and he nodded darkly towards the black tower, "they were about you, but now that you are safe ..." She looked at him worriedly. "Carry on," she prompted. He sighed. "I cannot, it is all too confusing and disturbing. Before, I felt that I should journey to Gondor, and that the time to take up the kingship was at hand ... but now I feel that there are two paths I can tread in the war against Sauron, and my mind is torn." She took his hand and placed it on his chest. "Then follow the path your heart tells you, that is what I have always done." He looked at her gratefully. "Then I am decided. I shall travel northwards to Imladris, and then beyond, to chase my destiny in the cold Northlands. For there is a verse that my mother, Gilraen, told to me before her death. She said the Seer, Malbereth, spake it over me in my infancy:
'The streams of Fate are by mountains fed. Mountains blue with caverns red. Through fires scorching, white is seen Of blade of night, Starlight's gleam. Wrought in ages long since faded. Lost in battle to evil jaded. Forged of steel silver bright, No more remain in shadow of night Eternal. Oh Blade of Kings, be borne Once more to war, he who was shorn Of power waxes stronger in might. Oh remain you no longer in night. Bauglir's Bane, best evil again, and rest no more till torn in twain.'
Arwen looked puzzled. "I know 'Bauglir' was another name for Morgoth, the Great Enemy, but this verse makes no sense to me. I know not of any weapon that was used against him." She stared thoughtfully at the ground, before looking up, "I know, we will go to my father, he is learned in lore. Maybe the Wizards too will know something of this?"
* * * * *
Elrond looked grim after Aragorn repeated the lines. "We will speak naught of Morgoth, may his name be spoken with scorn. Suffice to say that 'Bauglir's Bane' was the great sword Ringil, also known as Starlight, born by the Elven king Fingolfin in his duel against the Evil one. Although he was killed, Ringil inflicted many wounds on the Enemy, and being wrought of mithril, rendered his sable armour useless. What became of it afterwards I do not know. Fingolfin's body was borne away by Thorndor, the King of the Eagles and laid in a tomb among the eyeries of the Northern Mountains. Of the weapon, who can say?
Saruman stepped forward, "I can. During the time I was still wandering these lands I heard rumour of the sword from dwarven scouts. During the Battle of Five Armies, so the greybeards say, a division of goblins scaled the mountains for a tactical advantage. They found and plundered the tomb, but that division never made it to the battle. It is said that the Shadow Hand of Morgoth rose up in flame and smote the bearers of the Sword. Perhaps it is still in the mountains somewhere, but I have no doubt it is cursed. It would be folly to seek it."
Aragorn looked at them all tiredly. "I cannot say whether this be folly or nay, but it is what I believe is my path in this war against Sauron. Maybe Narsil should be laid to rest in Imladris, for now anyway. Perhaps an heir of mine in the future shall stand in need of it, but I seek Ringil, weapon of the Elves." Arwen stood next to him. "Where you go, I go." Elrond covered his face with his hands. "Not again," he muttered. Saruman looked at them. "Do you wish to be the Fellowship of the Sword? Or the Two Riders perhaps? Aragorn shook his head. "We shall be nameless and numberless, at least until if ... when we return. Then we shall be the heralds of Destiny, or war against the Dark Lord, and maybe of suffering and death." He drew himself together, "But it shall be they who will suffer! We will prevail, the Last Alliance as of old. Elves and Men, united against evil! Take the army and head towards Gondor and ruin." He turned to Gandalf, "You, my most trusted advisor and teacher, take care of my people until we return" Elrond smiled, "And you had better take care of my daughter. But you shall not ride north alone, Galadriel and I shall accompany you, at least as far as Rivendell. Celeborn, Glorfindel, and my sons will lead our people to war."
At this moment, Legolas and Gimli barged their way forwards. "And we ride with you, all the way!" "Caverns, eh? Sounds like work for a Dwarf to me," growled Gimli, hefting his axe "And we swore to stay true to each other, until the end," chipped in Legolas, "So I'm in as well!" Gimli grunted, "We overheard what we're up against. Cursed swords, evil ghosts, Dark Lords ... all in a days work!" Aragorn embraced his loyal friends. "Then it is decided, We ride North!"