Chapter 4

Ellathorn rolled onto her stomach as her arm slumped over the side of her feather bed. The stone floor was cold from the crisp fall air billowing in through the slightly opened window. She opened her eyes for a split moment. She saw her mother squatted near the fireplace. Ellathorn tried to sit up but collapsed back down on her bed.

Her mother seemed to notice the commotion, and looked worryingly at her weak child. She quickly stood up and walked over to her. Ellathorn slowly opened her eyes. She looked up at her mother's concerned face.

"What happened? Where am I?" Ellathorn had no memories of how she got into her bed. In fact, she had no memories of the previous night whatsoever.

"You were lost in the woods," Gilraen said as she sat down next to her daughter.

Ellathorn began to remember now. She remembered the hollow feeling in her stomach as she sat in solitude upon the cold, hard rock in the middle of the forest. She remembered now, the armored stranger. He saved her.

"How did you know?" Ellathorn wondered how her mother would know about her being lost. Was she talking in her sleep again?

"Your friend, Boromir, told me," Gilraen replied.

"Boromir?" Ellathorn remembered him now. He was the armored stranger. He had saved her.

"He brought you home to me. You passed out right outside the door. I thought that you were dead. He assured me that you were still alive, although he was quite worried. He waited with me nearly all night. He only left a few hours ago," Gilraen said.

Ellathorn was confused. Boromir had threatened her the night before. Was he just trying to spy on her family? Was he just trying to figure out what it was that her father was 'up to'?

"Did you see the black eye that the boy had? Said he injured it in a hunting accident. Wouldn't you know it? I told him to put some kingsfoil on that right away," Gilraen said as she stood to take the stew off the fire.

"Injured it in a hunting accident, you say?" Ellathorn laughed to herself. She tried to stand to give her mother a hand with the stew, but she could not find the strength.

Her mother poured the stew into a bowl, and brought it over to Ellathorn. "Dear, do you remember anything that happened yesterday?" She asked Ellathorn.

"I do recall now, being alone in the dark forest. I also remember the armored…I mean Boromir, trying to kill me. But I don't seem to remember exactly what happened after that," Ellathorn racked her brain, but did not find any answers.

"It does not matter now what happened. You are home safely, and that's all that matters. I was wondering more if you remember what happened before you got lost," Gilraen said.

"I was running from the Houses of Healing…we had just gotten into a fight," Ellathorn remembered now, it wasn't a fight that they had had. "Wait, it wasn't a fight at all. You were trying to tell me that something happened to Father."

"Yes, I was. Where to begin? Well, as you already know, your father is gone," Gilraen swallowed hard at the thought. "You guessed that the 'strange man' had something to do with it. You were right."

"I knew that that man was up to no good. Where did he take him?" Ellathorn interrupted her mother.

"No my dear, you have it all wrong. He did not take yourfather anywhere. Your father chose to go," Gilraen nearly laughed at her daughter's foolishness.

"You mean to say that Father left us out of his own accord?" Ellathorn was outraged. Why would he leave them? She was beginning to believe that Boromir was right in his accusations.

"Your father is a very important person. He has abandoned his duties for many years to live with us. He cannot prolong them any more. He left with Lord Elrond the night before last," Gilraen tried to explain.

"Lord Elrond? The lord of the elves? That's who that man was?" Ellathorn felt ashamed now. She had disrespected such a sacred being.

"Yes. Lord Elrond of Rivendell. He told your father that he was needed in the north."

"So that's it then? He just left his family and his home behind?" Ellathorn was very upset with her father.

"He did not want to, but it was his duty," Gilraen looked down at her hands. She knew that her daughter would not understand. And she could not stand the thought of her own child enduring such hatred toward the man whom she cherished.

Ellathorn looked upon her mother. The women seemed very discontent. How could she spend her life in such solitude away from the man she truly loved? How could she keep such a brave face when inside Ellathorn knew that it was tearing her apart? Ellathorn turned away. She was ashamed of her father. She could hardly look her mother in the eyes anymore.

So many things had changed over night. All of the young girl's hopes and dreams had completely overturned themselves in no more than one day's time. Now she wanted for nothing better than to be a family again. To see her father sitting across from her at the dinner table, or to feel his warm smile upon her face each morning as he would tease her for her laziness, is all she could hope for in that moment.

Ellathorn shut her eyes, although she had no intention of sleeping. She only hoped to escape the awkwardness of the moment. Gilraen assumed that the child was truly asleep so she stood and walked towards the window. She gazed out as though she hoped to see her husband strolling up the path towards her, as she was so accustomed to him doing. She gently touched her fingertips to the glass. It was no use. All hope of seeing him had faded. "Do not trust a hope," she whispered aloud as though it was not meant for others to hear. Ellathorn had heard her mother though. It seemed quite unlike her. She was always positive. She was always the one who tried to convince Ellathorn to make the best of things. She could not stand to see her mother like this. She rolled over, and tried to clear her mind.

For what seemed to be only a few minutes turned out to be more towards a couple of hours that Gilraen sat with her gazed fixed out the window. She finally came to her senses as she looked over towards her sleeping daughter. She walked over to her. She could not get any closer for a lump had developed in her throat that had made it near impossible to swallow. She needed some fresh air. She grabbed her cloak, and quickly crept towards the door. She shut it behind her with a little less caution. Ellathorn heard the door slam shut, and sat up with a bolt. She soon realized that it was her mother that had slammed the door shut. She must have needed some fresh air. Actually, fresh air did seem rather appealing to Ellathorn.

She stood up slowly, and cautiously. She was feeling much stronger now than she had hours ago. She quickly changed into a clean dress, and pointlessly ran a comb through her almost never untidy hair. She put on her cloak and walked outside. The blast of cool air nearly knocked her over. She took a deep breath. The wind felt refreshing as it whipped her hair across her flushed face. She did not know where to go from there. She turned and headed towards the river, where she would follow her daily route.

The temperature dropped as she neared the waterfront. There were ripples upon the surface of the water. Ellathorn stopped in front of the river. She shut her eyes as she admired the peaceful sound of the water crashing upon the sandy shore. She opened her eyes and sat down on the shore. She took up a handful of the warm sand, and filtered it through her fingers.

She noticed as the water began to tremble. She peered up the river as though she expected to see someone running towards her, but she could not see past the sharp bend in the river a short ways down. She turned her concentration back toward the sand. She buried her bare feet deep into its warmth.

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed that the trembling of the water was steadily increasing. She stood up and brushed the sand from her hands. She leaned over the water in attempt to see further up the river. As she did so a white horse, which seemed to be carrying a man upon it's bare back, flew past her in nearly the blink of an eye. The speed of the animal caused her to lose her balance. She fell forward as a blast of cold water surrounded her body. The water was shallow with a depth of no more than two feet, yet it still managed to saturate all of Ellathorn's once warm clothing.

As Ellathorn looked up she saw another rider galloping towards her.

"Whoa!" she heard a voice utter as the creature slowed to a stop merely inches in front of her.

A man in a sleek brown cloak dismounted from the horse. He stepped down into the water with a splash, and walked towards Ellathorn. He held out his hand and she slowly placed her trembling hand into his. He firmly helped her to her feet.

"I apologize for the insolence of my friend," The young man said to Ellathorn.

"He seems to be in quite a hurry," Ellathorn replied through quivering teeth as she noticed the man's strong grip upon her hand.

He soon noticed that he had forgotten to release his hold upon her fair hand.

"Yes. He has urgent business with Lord Denethor," the man tried to explain.

"Who was that?" Ellathorn asked as her eyes darted after the mysterious gray rider. It was useless; he was far beyond sight by now.

"He is known in these parts as Mithrandir. To me he is known as Gandalf the gray," he answered.

"Mithrandir, yes. News has reached my ears of this gray wizard," Ellathorn recalled.

"Whatever you have heard is most likely untrue. The steward has no respect for the wisdom of Gandalf, nor the things that he has done for your city," the man ranted in the protection of his friend.

Ellathorn was speechless. She understood now of what the man was speaking of. "My father speaks very highly of Mithrandir. They have met before. That is all I meant," Ellathorn informed him.

"My apologies. 'Tis only that Gandalf…Mithrandir…is not very highly thought of by the Lord Denethor. He is not shown proper respect from the steward," he explained.

Ellathorn nodded her head to show that she understood. "No one is thought of very highly by the steward. He can be a very foul old man," Ellathorn spoke from her past experiences with Denewyn's father. They both began to laugh.

The man looked down at Ellathorn and noticed her trembling lips, and chattering teeth. "My lady, you must be freezing," he exclaimed as he untied the cloak from his own shoulders, and threw it around hers.

She looked up at him. He smiled at the surprised look upon her face. She noticed for the first time his luminous eyes. She seemed to get lost intheir deep green. Something about them seemed almost…familiar.

"I must be off. Once more I beg your forgiveness," the man pleaded of her.

She nodded as to say she was willing to forgive. Her eyes still fell upon his face as he mounted his horse, and dug his heals into the animal's underbelly. The horse took off. Ellathorn's gaze followed the rider down the river.

"Wait!" She called without thought. "I don't believe that you told me your name."

"Estel, they call me," he shouted back to her over his left shoulder. He turned back and made a clicking noise with his tongue. The horse picked up speed, and he soon faded from sight.

"Estel," Ellathorn whispered as she drew his cloak tightly about her shoulders with one more quick look down the river, she turned and headed for home.

When Aragorn finally caught up to Gandalf he didn't find his old friend in the most delightful of moods. He had just gotten through with his discussion with Denethor.

"Despicable!" Gandalf muttered under his breath. "He cares not for the troubles of others, but only for his own."

Aragorn decided it best not to inquire as to Gandalf's ramblings.

"Ah, Aragorn," Gandalf said as he noticed his presence. "What took you?"

"Gandalf, in your haste you managed to frighten a young girl, nearly to her grave."

"You don't say? I failed to notice such an event?" Gandalf looked at Aragorn, and he could tell that there was more to the story than he was willing to share. He raised one eyebrow in questioning.

"There was something about her that seemed all too familiar," Aragorn said more to himself than to answer Gandalf's quizzical look.

It all made sense to the wizard. The girl in the woods must've been Aragorn's mother. He knew for a fact that she was still living in the city. Aragorn resembled the beautiful woman, and probably recognized himself within her. He wondered if she had recognized him. " What did you tell her?" Gandalf tried to sound nonchalant, yet he was very curious inside.

"I told her that you had urgent business with the steward, and that you meant her no harm."

"What did you tell her of yourself? Did she ask for your name?" His tone was much less indifferent than it had been. It was very important to him that no one in the city discovered Aragorn's true identity.

"She did ask for my name. I told her that I am called Estel," Aragorn knew better than to reveal his true name; his birth name, that is.

Gandalf seemed quite relieved at his answer, although he wondered if Gilraen knew her son by that name as well. He could not have his mother having any knowledge of his presence.

"Mithrandir?" Gandalf heard a voice call from behind him. He spun around to see the young captain of Gondor, Boromir. "Is it true? What you spoke of to my father? This gangle creature of which you speak, does it truly bear any significance in my city? I just cannot bring my self to imagine this one small creature to hold such importance over the attacks upon our city," his tone was curious, yet full of doubt.

"Boromir, this creature possesses important information of which the armies of Mordor would stop at nothing to obtain," Gandalf attempted to explain as his temper began to rise. "Yet if the enemy manages to get their hands on the creature, Gollum, before we do, it could prove fatal."

"How so, Mithrandir? What information could any creature possess that could possibly prove such importance?" Boromir tried to understand.

"That is not for you to know, young captain. All that is of your concern now, is that it does not fall into the wrong hands." Gandalf tried to suppress his rage.

"In what way would this help the people of Gondor? What good would come out of this? You want our people to risk their lives in gallivanting around Middle Earth in search of this 'Gollum' creature, yet you don't care to explain exactly why we are needed in your search?" Boromir could not seem to comprehend the man's crazy request.

"Not everything must affect your people directly in order for it to affect them," Aragorn said as he took a step closer to Boromir. For the first time Boromir noticed Aragorn. He could not understand why Mithrandir would travel with such a companion. The man seemed fairly descent looking despite his dirty and ragged look. His clothes were torn and tattered. His possibly handsome face was hidden by a mixture of dirt and sweat that seemed to be smeared across it. Boromir squinted at the man as though he was attempting to remember his face.

Gandalf interrupted Boromir's stare as he stepped between Boromir and Aragorn. "That will be all, Boromir," Gandalf said with a distinct finality in his voice.

Boromir quickly turned and started off in the opposite direction without even a quick glance over his shoulder.

"You must be more cautious, Estel," Gandalf breathed as he turned back to Aragorn. "Someone may recognize you."