AN: Sincere thanks to everyone who reviewed, especially those who pointed out my mistakes to me. (Some really stupids typos too. I couldn't believe I said osmosis instead of oasis... Argh! No more cellular biology for me!) Those reviews are great encouragement to me, so thanks again.

Here is a new chapter, I hope you all enjoy it.


Celebration.

For the King had decreed so this night.

"A toast to all of our soldiers!" Hamun, the great king of Harad, raised the cup in his hand. He was a man in the prime of his life, handsome, charismatic and perhaps even flamboyant. Now he looked splendid and in very good cheers, sitting upon his great chair in the lofty tent, raising the wine cup with such exaggerated gesture.

"Our brave warriors deserve a toast from all of us!" His voice boomed, and a roust of loud shouts and cheers answered him.

"Cheers! Cheers! To our warriors!" The captains and generals occupying the tent all shouted in the same jubilant manner, raising their cups and downing their drinks in one gulp.

Then the beautiful queen raised her cup as well, and called in her song like voice, with the wild pride of all Harad mothers. "A toast, captains," She said, "To Annem, who brought home victory. He is no disappointment even before his great father!"

"Cheers, cheers!" Another round of shouts around the tent. "To Annem, our great Prince!"

The young general fresh off the battlefield laughed and raised his cup graciously and drank with everyone. When the cup was again filled to the rim the young man declared, "And friends, a toast to Taluya, our moon-hunter, beloved friend and wise teacher, without whom no victory is possible!"

The shouts were wild.

"Cheers! Cheers! Cheers!" Cups touched with many a crisp "cling", sweet wine spilt into the already pungent air, laughter rang like the rushing of wild wind. "To our moon-hunter! Taluya! Taluya!"

Aragorn raised his cup with a faint half smile and drank the wine swiftly. The wild shouts of unreserved friendship stirred him, yes, and warmed him, but they did not move him to similar good cheers by any means. His heart was heavy with a listless premonition. The sight of Bregol, one of the soldiers under his command when he was still Thorongil in Gondor, struck an ominous chord in him. Already the darkness of the conflicts to come was assuaging his keen perception, and he was troubled.

It was well night midnight when at last the celebration was over and the party dispersed. Aragorn was about to make his leave when the king turned and said to him, "Stay for a while yet, Taluya. I would speak with you."

Answering with a slight nod, he stayed in his seat. When all was gone from the tent, even the queen and the prince, the King spoke. "You seemed troubled all night, friend." He asked. "What ails you?"

"Only some thoughts, my lord." Aragorn answered evenly.

"Ah." The king nodded. "Will you not speak of your concerns then, friend? I would like to know."

Aragorn pondered for a moment, before asking, "What mean you to do with the captives from Gondor?"

The king said with a shrewd grin, "Precisely the matter that I meant to speak with you of, Taluya. Think you those captives might know some important things of the defense of Gondor?"

Aragorn shook his head, and answered, "Nay, my lord. By the look of their uniforms, they seem common soldiers. They would not know much." He was truthful. All of the captives were common foot soldiers, save Bregol, who was even then merely a corporal. He probably knew more than those soldiers could ever comprehend, even though he was long gone from Gondor.

The king was silent for a moment, before saying with a dissatisfied grunt, "They are useless to me then. I had high hope that they may know something that we could use to our advantages. Yet speak with them still, Taluya, and see what you can find."

"And what mean you to do with them after that?" Aragorn pressed.

The king waved his hand, "It matters not. Sell them to the wealthy who will purchase them, or have them work somewhere, I care not."

There was a subtle frown on Aragorn's face, and he said evenly, "If I may say so, I do not think that is wise."

"What would you suggest then, Taluya?" The king's dark eyes narrowed a sliver, and his voice seemed curt.

"I would suggest letting them return home free, my lord." Aragorn said boldly.

"After they have slaughtered defenseless women and children, burned down villages for no reason at all, you propose letting them return home free? Is that how justice should be done in your eyes, Taluya?" The king's voice now had a bark in it, sharp and rebuking.

"I do wish for justice, yet more so ever, I want peace between Harad and Gondor." Aragorn said quietly. "Gondor did not attack out of malice and ill will, but of doubt and misunderstanding. Revenge only begets revenge. But if we are to let those captives return free, it will be a sign as our friendship. Friendship must begin somewhere."

"Friendship, and peace?" The king let out a derisive snort and said disdainfully. "With those proud and uncaring northerners? It is impossible. They despise our people and that will never change no matter for what reason. Speak no more for them, Taluya, lest others doubt where your loyalty truly lies."

"My loyalty is with the people of Harad, and that will not change." Aragorn said solemnly. " I only wish peace and prosperity for Harad of her people. I wish that they should never fear antagonism from the north again, and I wish that they should be able to roam northern lands freely with neither hatred nor oppression from the people there. And none of this can be achieved, if an understanding between Gondor and Harad cannot be realized. 'Ts a simple thing for you to command, but it may serve greatly yet…"

"Enough!" The king cut him off abruptly. "That is enough. Speak no more, for I am decided, and naught you say shall change my decision."

Silence. In which all the wild joys of celebration that still lingered in the air were gone in a flash, and tension pulled full force in a heartbeat. The kind of silence of brewing storm, and sizzling sparks, waiting to explode. Fortunately Aragorn was not one to explode. He bowed low and said, "If that is the King's will."

The king's demeanor softened, and he threw back his dark head and laughed. Clapping Aragorn on the back like an old friend he said loudly, "Good, good. You are a good man, Taluya, but you are too idealistic in every sense of the word."

Again, there was a half-smile on the man's face, a wistful smile that could not quite lighten his stern and grim features, but only added more profound sorrow.

"If I may, my lord, I wish to speak with the prisoners and find out what I can." He requested quietly.

"Go your way then, friend." The king was fully returned to his euphoric mood, and his hand was again waving exaggerated gestures. "I am most glad for your services, Taluya."

With another bow Aragorn took his leave and made his way between the myriad of tents towards the one that housed the prisoners. That tent was at the edge of the city, surrounded by mostly empty tents that were only put into use when the city welcomed guests. Half a dozen of soldiers stood on guard outside the tent, and upon the sight of him they bowed respectfully.

Aragorn nodded at them, before asking, "Are the prisoners sufficiently secured?"

"We tied their hands tautly, captain. They should be no trouble." One of the soldiers answered.

Aragorn nodded once more and said, "Then you can all retire home early this night. I wish to speak to the prisoners privately. I shall be here until those of next shift arrive."

The guards nodded their thanks and left promptly, no questions, no hesitation. Aragorn watched their retrieving backs with bitterness. Those soldiers trusted him without reserve, to a degree that he did not imagine possible. Yet still he must betray their trust as a common fraud would, for a lofty end that perhaps, just perhaps, could still do good.

But not tonight, least not tonight. He thought painfully with determination.

Inside the tent he found four Gondorian soldiers. Bregol he knew well enough from his days in Gondor, and another whose face he could recall vaguely but the name escaped beyond him. The other two soldiers were young, and he did not recognize them at all. At his entrance they all looked at him uncertainly with mixed fear and hope. Silently he sat down before them, surveying them keenly without a word. His face must have been unkind, for the young soldiers shied away from his gaze and looked away as if fearful.

"Tell me, Bregol. What led you to this position tonight?" At last Aragorn asked, his voice neither gentle nor harsh, but a perfectly evenness that was impossible to read.

Bregol shifted uncomfortably under those piercing grey gaze. At last he said weakly, "For the life of me I could not have imagined that I should see you here, Captain Thorongil."

There was a pause, and absolute incredulity and awe stole the faces of the two younger soldiers. Every man knew the name of the legendary Thorongil, yet it was least expected that the man of the legend should appear thus, as an exulted friend in the heart of Harad.

Bregol shifted again and asked tentatively, "Why are you here in Harad, captain?"

"I believe I am asking questions here, soldier." Again Aragorn said in his expressionless voice. "Tell me, what happened?"

"Those barbaric Haradrims attacked us in the middle of night! They simply rode down on us!" One of the young soldiers barked.

"And you have done nothing to provoke their anger? Is their attack completely unjustified then?" Aragorn pressed, his voice hardening.

Bregol cried out in a sudden burst of anger, "What would those barbarians know of justice? We have never wronged them, yet they were ever against us, and allied with the enemies of Mordor!"

And at those words the grey eyes upon him turned even colder, like frozen sea of northern winter.

"Is that what you see, Bregol?" That chill was now in Aragorn's voice. "Then will you deny also the crime of burning down their village and slaughtering their people? Can you swear before the Gods of the West that you are free of such charge?"

Bregol stiffened and made no answer, but one of the young soldiers shouted, "They stole into the land of Gondor without the good grace of the Steward! They are like common thieves. Should we not punish them for such crime?"

"And you could find no other solution to this problem other than slaughtering the defenseless and innocent?" For the first time there was anger in Aragorn's voice. "Those people simply wished to live untroubled. None of them had ever held a sword! How could you murder them in cold blood?"

And at last Bregol answered stiffly, "We all have orders to follow, Captain Thorongil. You should know that well."

"Whose order then?" Aragorn pressed. "Not another warmongering captain who wishes to glorify his own banner with blood?"

Bregol balled his fists angrily and cried, "The Lord Denethor himself decreed those orders! And who are you to speak of warmongering captains? Did you not write your own name with blood of thousands?"

Even as those words left Bregol he knew he had spoken unfair in his anger. Silently he braved for the raging storm from the man before him. Yet it never came. Aragorn did not look angry; there was only an air of resignation about him.

"I am not here to banter words with you, or justify my causes." He said wearily. "Tell me, what does Lord Denethor plan to do with Harad?"

"I do not know." Bregol answered quietly. "I am merely a soldier. I do not know the councils of the captains and lords."

"Then tell me of the orders you received." Aragorn said. "Were there more attacks planned on the Harad people?"

Bregol almost answered again, but managed to check his words. "I do not know." He said warily.

"You do not know?" Aragorn's voice was skeptical, and his searing silver gaze was harsh.

Bregol straightened his back and cried defiantly, "You can not wrest an answer from me so easily!"

Aragorn laughed hollowly, and said with an almost inaudible sigh, "If you would not speak, I would not press you. What do you take me for?"

He said no more, and stood up. Without another word he turned and headed outside. Even as he was about to step out of the tent Bregol called again, "Captain Thorongil!"

Aragorn paused, and said quietly without turning back, "That is no longer my name, at least not here, Bregol."

"But that was your name once!" Bregol said heatedly, resentment and despair alike lacing his voice. "Has your loyalty completely shifted? Have you become this Taluya and threw away Thorongil for good?"

Another almost imperceptible sigh, then came the unreadable reply.

"I am both, Bregol, and I am neither."