Fanficfan: Thanks for pointing that out. I have a chronic problem with the characters whose names start with 'E'.
Dracademented: If you've gotten this far, you have come across Legolas by now. Hope you've continued to enjoy the story.
Kelly Kragen: Glad you liked the 'You look terrible' line. It's fun trying to see what I can work in from both the book and movie versions, and I love it when readers catch the allusions and quotations.
Dragonfly: Yes, another allusion to the movie, like the 'You look terrible' line.
Nerwen: Thank you. Hope you enjoy the latest chapter.
Joee: So a Southron assassin doesn't count as 'real trouble'!?
Beta reader: Dragonfly.
Chapter 42: Singing Lesson
Legolas was singing again. Why, why, why, groaned Aragorn to himself, did Elves have to warble first thing in the morning? The Ranger burrowed his head deeper under his pillow. Of all bedfellows, why did his have to be an Elf?
"Because a Dwarf would be worse," said Legolas cheerfully. "A Dwarf would snore."
Aragorn poked his head out from under his pillow.
"Did I speak aloud?" he said, perplexed.
"No, but you didn't need to. I know you too well, Estel."
"Another word from you," growled the Dúnadan, "and you shall find this pillow over your own face."
Aragorn sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Groaning melodramatically, he pulled on his boots and stood up.
"By your leave, Prince Legolas," he said with an exaggerated bow, "I must momentarily depart your presence."
"You mean to scout out the privy, then?"
"Aye, my Lord."
"You have my leave. I trust you shall return with a full account of its situation and appointments."
"Of course, your Highness."
"Very well, then. You may carry on."
Grinning, Aragorn went down the stairs and out behind the back of the inn, where he found the necessary. Afterward, he visited the stables. He and Legolas had come afoot so that their elven steeds would not attract notice, but he had always delighted in horses, and now he stopped to rub the muzzles of several. As he was speaking softly to a mare, a stable boy entered.
"'Ere, you, what'er ye about?" he said suspiciously. "Ye hain't got no horse stabled 'ere."
"True, although I would not hesitate to entrust a mount to this stable. These horses have obviously been well cared for. That would be your doing, would it not?"
The boy's manner changed at once.
"Aye," he said proudly. "I make it my business to see that each and every one is well fed and well housed. Folk do say I have a gift with animals."
"'Tis a good gift. The steeds of the Rohirrim are not cared for better than these horses."
This may have been stretching matters a bit, but the boy squared his shoulders in pride, and Aragorn had acquired his first ally in Bree. In the future, whenever he visited that town, he would always stop first at the stable and have a word with this boy and the other ostlers, who, being a bit rough-edged themselves, admitted him into their councils a little more freely than some of the more substantial residents of Bree would have.
When Aragorn returned to the rooms he shared with Legolas, the Elf wrinkled up his nose.
"You collect odors the way Dwarves collect gold."
"Legolas, I swear you speak more kindly of Orcs than you do Dwarves. Have a care that you do not someday meet a Dwarf who will make you dine upon your words."
Legolas scoffed at the notion that he could ever be bested by one of the Naugrim.
"No Dwarf will ever measure up to an Elf," he jested.
"I think," said Aragorn dryly, "that you needs must enlarge your stock of wit. I am sure that joke was old even in the time of Elendil."
Laughing, the two friends went down to the common room, although they quieted before they entered it. They had no desire to attract undue attention. They had spent the previous day scouting in the vicinity of Bree, and now they meant to eat a quick breakfast before slipping away for the Shire.
Unfortunately, their departure for the Shire was not to be as inconspicuous as they had hoped. Midway through their breakfast, Big Bill Ferny came storming into the common room.
"Hey, you there, Longshanks," he shouted, "my horse is missin'! The brown mare' wi' the white fetlocks"
"Perhaps she has run off," said Aragorn calmly. "That animal looked to be an intelligent one."
There were snickers from the Bree folk in the room, and Ferny turned scarlet. He reached behind him and pulled forward Little Bill Ferny.
"Tell these gen'lmen wot ye saw this very mornin', lil' Bill."
"That 'un," said the urchin, "was in the stable."
"And what of it?" said Butterbur, who had entered the common room carrying a tray of mugs. "'Tis no crime to be in a stable."
"'Ceptin' e' hain't got no horse. Whate'er would he want to be in the stable for?"
"I find the company of horses preferable to that of some Men," replied Aragorn. A wave of laughter swept across the common room. It hardly seemed possible, but Ferny turned even redder than before.
"Horse thief as 'e is, 'e oughter be horsewhipped, that's wot," the scoundrel blustered.
"Have a care, Ferny," warned Butterbur. "'Tain't right to accuse a Man of something without you have proof. It's your hide like to be horsewhipped if you do."
Legolas was sitting rigid with fury, so Butterbur was nearer the mark than he realized.
"He's a Ranger," sneered Ferny. "What more proof do I need?"
There was a murmur from the crowd. The Bree folk seemed to think that Ferny had hit upon a point.
Just then the stable boy entered the common room and marched up to Ferny.
"Bill Ferny," he declared, "the head ostler has sent me to tell ye that, as ye still hain't paid for the two weeks board o' your nag, he has turned her out to graze on the commons. She'll eat no more oats at the expense o' Master Butterbur."
"Hey, now," exclaimed Butterbur, outraged, "who's the thief now, I'd like to know!? To take without paying, that's a sort of theft, hain't it?"
Hoots and jeers from the Bree-folk, who were, it seems, as agile at switching sides as an Elf is in skipping from tree to tree.
"Take it out o' his hide," shouted one of these worthies.
"Nay," scowled Butterbur. "I won't take it out o' his hide, but I will take it out in trade. Warn't you a'goin' to muck out the stalls today?" he said to the stable boy.
"Aye, Master," the lad replied, grinning.
"Well, now you needn't. Seems Ferny here has volunteered to take your place."
Cheers from the Bree-landers. Ferny found himself being escorted by an eager mob to the stable, where a pitchfork was pressed into his hands. If he entertained any hopes of slipping off, he was to be disappointed, for a handful of hangers-on lingered about until sundown to watch the show, hoisting tankards that were kept well filled by Butterbur, gratis. That worthy innkeeper also waved off Aragorn's attempts to pay for his and Legolas' second night in their chambers.
"Nay, your friend here did me a good turn by returning those purses, else I may have lost the custom of disgruntled patrons reived of their goods. And it grieves me that you were insulted in my very own common room, accused of being a horse thief, no less! You would have been in your rights to have started a brawl, but you didn't. On account o' your forbearance, there be many a bench and many a dish that I shall not have to pay to replace. Keep your silver in token of the gelt you have thereby saved me!"
Aragorn could by no means convince Butterbur to change his mind, and at last the Ranger settled on giving the innkeeper a coin for the stable boy.
"Well, I must say," said Butterbur, impressed by Aragorn's gentlemanly behavior, "that, for all you are a Ranger, you are no ruffian!"
"Thank you," replied Aragorn, who, still gentlemanly, managed to keep any irony from creeping into his voice. When he caught Legolas' attention, however, he rolled his eyes in exasperation.
"I think," said the Elf, as they at last strode away from the town, "that Butterbur's last words to you were a species of 'damning with faint praise'."
"And I am to be his King," grumbled Aragorn. "Hardly seems worth the effort to regain the throne if I am to rule over such folk."
"'Such folk', Aragorn? Are they to be despised because they live in innocence of the evil that gathers outside their little land?"
"Ferny is no innocent."
"I was not speaking of Ferny, but of Men like Butterbur and boys like the lad in the stable. They lead lives of simplicity, taking pleasure in the daily minutiae of their lives, and give no thought to doings outside their ken. But if they are to lead such simple lives, free from care and fear, then simple they must be" (FOTR Bk. II, cap. 2).
"And I am to protect them in all their simplicity?"
"Aye, as one would nurture a flower or a songbird or an infant. These things are all the more cherished for their weakness and fragility, which are not to be viewed as a flaw but as the very source of their beauty."
"So I am to be the rough Ranger so that they can enjoy their bolsters and down comforters? 'Tis a tough, dirty job."
"True," agreed Legolas, "but somebody has to do it—and who better than Isildur's heir?"
Shaking his head bemusedly, Aragorn walked on. After awhile, he spoke thoughtfully, almost wistfully.
"You will be a king someday, Legolas, but you will have the good luck to rule over Elves."
"Mirkwood is a hard place," Legolas observed dispassionately, "even if Elves do dwell there. Do not envy me my realm!"
"And you have always known your father," mused Aragorn.
"Do not envy me my father, neither!" exclaimed Legolas.
"He was very kind to me when I visited Mirkwood."
"He has not always been so kind. He is capable of great anger, especially toward those whom he does not understand."
"I suppose," said Aragorn slowly, "that he is going to be very angry with Gandalf when he finds out that the wizard knew you planned to journey west with me and yet did nothing to stop you."
"Oh, he will not try to harm Mithrandir," said Legolas calmly.
"You don't think so?" said Aragorn doubtfully.
"No," said the Elf, "he would never dream of hurting him. But," he added cheerfully, "only because he will leave it to Edwen Nana to exact vengeance upon Mithrandir!"
Aragorn grinned.
"Not Edwen Nana! Gandalf would probably prefer to face Thranduil!"
"True enough!" exclaimed Legolas. "Do you know, someday I ought to make sure that Mithrandir is trapped in a room with that elleth! What fun that will be for all and sundry!"
"Legolas!"
"Don't worry, Aragorn. I don't mean to set any traps for him in the near future. Anyway, for the time being I can't, as I am not in Mirkwood at the moment. But it is something to think about for the future!"
They walked on quietly for a spell. Legolas, however, was now in an especially merry mood, and at last, provokingly, he began to sing a droll elven ballad. Aragorn bore this in silence for awhile, but after a time he suddenly whipped off his cloak, threw it over Legolas, and bundled him to the ground. Legolas was laughing too hard to resist.
"Will you leave off singing!?" demanded Aragorn, who was now sitting atop the Elf.
"Why the sudden dislike of my melodies?" gasped Legolas between giggles.
"The night before we left Rivendell, Elrond called me to his chamber and said that he had had a dream in which I stood crowned before Minas Tirith singing a song of reconciliation before the Free Folk gathered for the occasion."
"But that's good! He had a vision of your crowning!"
"But I was singing," declared Aragorn despairingly. "The ceremony required me to sing! You know that my voice is as nothing compared to that of most mortals, let alone that of an Elf. Why, I would venture that a Periannath would sing better than I would. Indeed, I am sure of it! Whilst we were at the Prancing Pony, I heard a Perian sing a song, melancholy but beautiful, about the end of all things. As he sang, in my mind's eye I saw riders galloping bravely toward their doom."
Legolas had wriggled his head free of Aragorn's cloak and now stared at the Ranger thoughtfully.
"Elrond saw to it that you were trained in archery, swordsmanship, and horseback riding. He made sure that you learned to handle boats, to track your foes, and to heal your friends. He also saw to it that you learned the history of your ancestors, down to the last Chieftain. But he never arranged for you to receive any training in music, did he?"
"No, he did not," said Aragorn miserably. "I think it never occurred to him that I would not naturally be melodious, for singing has ever come naturally to all the Elves with whom he has been surrounded. It is said that Glorfindel sang ballads in the cradle ere he was weaned."
"I have heard that story," said Legolas, "but everything about Glorfindel has become exaggerated over the centuries. Have you ever tried summing up his supposed conquests on the field of love? I do not think there are enough elf-maidens in Arda to account for them all! No, nor enough evenings down through the ages during which he could have engaged in such a multitude of couplings."
"Legolas!" exclaimed Aragorn, scandalized.
"Just do the math, Aragorn. You will see that what I say is true. Perhaps," the Elf added, grinning wickedly, "I should suggest to Erestor that he use Glorfindel's amatory experiences as the basis for several of his devilishly difficult word problems."
Aragorn had released Legolas by now, and they were sitting side by side. The Ranger had to smile at the thought of the tutor composing word problems based upon Glorfindel's exploits with the maidens.
"Yes," he said, "Erestor ought to do that. It would make his lessons in arithmetic so much more interesting. Let me see, now: 'During the Second Age, Glorfindel the balrog-slayer beds nine maidens per fortnight. Given that the Second Age lasts for 3,441 years, by the end of the Second Age, how many maidens has Glorfindel bedded, rounded to the nearest maiden, of course?'"
Legolas laughed so hard that he fell over backwards upon the moss, rather inelegant behavior for an Elf, really.
"I should like to see Erestor's face if someone posed that question to him!"
"I shall do it as soon as we return to Rivendell."
"You wouldn't!"
"Yes," declared Aragorn impishly, "I will!"
"Very well, then, but make sure that I am present. I want to see what he does."
"Probably he will set Glorfindel on me for my impertinence."
"If he does," warned Legolas waggishly, "have a care that the balrog-slayer doesn't fix matters so that you are incapable of any amatory exploits of your own!"
The friends shared a good laugh and then arose to their feet to resume their journey toward the Shire.
"Do you know, Aragorn," Legolas said as they walked, "I believe I can help you to improve your singing voice somewhat. If you really must stand before Minas Tirith someday and sing, it wouldn't do to croak like a Troll."
"Is my voice that bad!?" exclaimed Aragorn in consternation.
"No, not that bad," conceded the Elf, "but you would benefit from a few lessons, I think. In exchange, you could be my sparring partner. Your swordsmanship far exceeds mine."
"Do you really think so?" said Aragorn.
"Yes, I really think so. I am the master of two-handed knife work, but you are going to be the most celebrated swordsman of the Third Age. I think Elrond saw this in you, and that it why he believes that it is for you that the shards of Narsil will be reforged."
Touched at the words of praise from the Elf, Aragorn gladly accepted Legolas' offer of singing lessons in exchange for sword practice. Mutually grateful, the two friends strode on contentedly.