Dragonfly: Yes, Edwen Nana is such a nurturing creature that, if she came upon the Dark Lord himself, wounded and helpless, she would probably wash and mend his clothes and feed him a good dinner before slaying him.
Legosgurl: The flu! The flu! Here's a very, very old limerick to cheer you up: "A flea and a fly in a flue / Were imprisoned, so what could they do. / Said the fly, 'let us flee'. / Said the flea, 'Let us fly'. / So they flew through a flaw in the flue." Not too surprisingly, there is an influenza variation: "A flea and a fly had the 'flu. / They neither knew what to do. / Said the fly, 'let us flee'. / Said the flea, 'Let us fly'. / So they flew through a flaw in the flue." (from Eileen Pettigrew, The Silent Enemy: Canada and the Deadly Flu of 1918, via Joan Champ, "The Impact of the Spanish Influenza Epidemic on Saskatchewan Farm Families, 1918-1919.") Try chanting the limerick repeatedly (either version). Either it will distract you from your discomfort, or it will drive you crazy. Either way, it will take your mind off the flu. Seriously, though, I hope you feel better immediately, if not sooner.
Terreis: Yes, things are indeed coming to a head. I think you are quite right about Gollum: it is impossible to escape the idea that things could have turned out differently. I think Tolkien would have been comfortable with that thought, because, after all, look at the kinship between Gollum and Frodo. Frodo knows he could be Gollum, and at the very end he is. Were it not for Gollum's inadvertent help, the Ring would never have been destroyed.
Beta Reader: Dragonfly, who caught a lot of errors in this one. Thank you for spotting them, Dragonfly.
Chapter 65: Departure Upon Departure
After Gandalf's hasty departure, there was no reason for the Elves to remain at Fornost.
"The day is far gone," observed Legolas, "so we will not break camp immediately. But tomorrow we will resume our journey."
They occupied themselves for the remainder of the day with packing up all that they would not need that very night. Then they sat relaxed about the various campfires. Gilglîr joined Legolas at his, and they talked idly about the various events that had transpired in the course of the last few weeks. Suddenly Gilglîr sat up, tense and alert.
"Something approaches from the east," hissed Gilglîr. "Perhaps the creature has returned."
Legolas listened carefully. He shook his head.
"The creature was smaller than a Dwarf. Whoever approaches has a tread as heavy as that of a Man."
"Or an Orc," Gilglîr said grimly, reaching for his bow.
"No, the gait is unlike that of an Orc. It is most surely a Man. Let us not be too quick with our weapons."
Nevertheless, Legolas picked up his own bow as he arose and took a step away from the fire before calling out a challenge.
"Halt! State your name and your purpose in approaching our camp."
"I am a Man of these parts," replied a deep voice, "and although you challenge me, you cannot say the same for yourself." The possessor of this voice stepped into the light cast by the fire.
"Estel!" exclaimed Legolas, lowering his bow.
The Ranger grimaced a little.
"Aragorn, if you please."
"E-stel e-stel e-stel," chanted Legolas.
Aragorn shrugged resignedly.
"Oh, well, I suppose Estel is better than some of the names I have been called."
"Such as?"
"Longshanks. Stick-at-naught Strider. That sort of thing."
Legolas surveyed him up and down.
"You look terrible," he said frankly.
Aragorn returned the favor.
"One of your braids is longer than the other," the Dúnadan announced triumphantly after minutely scrutinizing his friend.
"It's the latest style," Legolas shot back.
"No, it's not," retorted Aragorn. "Elves are all about symmetry, pattern, and balance."
Legolas ignored him.
"You still haven't explained what you are doing here," the Elf said. "The last I heard, you were heading for Rohan."
"I have been to Rohan—aye, and to Gondor as well. I have returned to seek out Gandalf, for I believe he would be interested in hearing what I have to say. I was told by the Lady Galadriel that he was on his way to the Shire, and I was making for that place when I encountered one of my kinsmen, who had acquired a nasty gash on his head courtesy of some Orcs. I have been seeking those goblins in order to requite them for their treatment of my cousin. I would not have been surprised if I had received rough treatment at their hands, but I certainly wasn't expecting an elvish inquisition!"
"No one ever does," grinned Legolas. "But I am afraid I must convey to you news that will gravely disappoint you. You will not be able to exact vengeance on behalf of your kinsman. It is my duty to inform you that we have already slain said Orcs—unless, of course, there are two bands lurking about."
"Not very likely," said Aragorn, shaking his head. "I tracked them to this very spot, only to find it occupied by Fair Folk. Well, thank you for saving me a great deal of trouble. I would have had to pick them off one by one from cover, and it would have been slow work. Doubtless your company was able to make much quicker work of them than I could have."
"Oh, yes, we made very quick work of them, especially as we had the aid of our newest warrior, who is able to disarm ten Orcs at once. So you see, our task was quite a simple one."
"Ten Orcs disarmed at once! I must meet this warrior."
"Certainly. Tathar," Legolas said, turning to the carpenter, "summon the other red-haired warrior, would you?"
A little while later, Tathar returned in the company of Caranlass.
"Lord Aragorn," said Tathar, "allow me to introduce you to my wife, Caranlass."
Aragorn had already had much practice at concealing his emotions, but surprise flickered in his eyes. When he spoke, however, his voice revealed nothing but respect for a fellow warrior.
"I take it, then, that you are the red-haired warrior who can disarm ten Orcs at once."
Caranlass inclined her head.
"I am, my Lord."
"I am disarmed by you as well, my Lady."
"Careful, Aragorn," laughed Legolas. "Tathar himself stands ready to disarm you if you find his wife too disarming."
"Ai!" replied Aragorn in mock distress. "I am unmanned at the thought."
"If that is so, then you are quite safe from me," said Tathar, smiling.
Just then an elleth even more formidable than Caranlass appeared on the scene. This was of course Edwen Nana, who had been to the stream to fetch water.
"Estel! Little Estel!"
Now, in point of fact, 'little Estel' was several inches taller than Edwen Nana, but this made no difference to Edwen Nana, to whom all those whom she had mothered would be forevermore 'little'.
"Where ever have you gotten yourself to?" she exclaimed, surveying him up and down with a critical air. "You look terrible!"
Legolas stifled a laugh, but he winked at Aragorn, who looked very distressed. The Ranger knew what was coming next.
"Now," Edwen Nana continued briskly, "you must come down to the stream with me straightaway. Whilst you bathe, I shall wash those grubby clothes of yours."
"Um, Edwen Nana, I only have the one set."
"That is no objection to bathing, Estel, and you know it. You may wrap yourself in a blanket whilst your clothes dry."
"I'll fetch a blanket straightaway," Legolas offered helpfully. Aragorn glared at him, but the prince looked back at him with an expression that was provokingly innocent. Aragorn gave up the battle but attempted to set terms.
"Edwen Nana, I will bathe, but I don't need any help."
"Very well, but if you don't do the job properly, you shall have to bathe all over again—and then I will superintend."
Aragorn assured her that he would be very thorough in his ablutions. Taking a blanket and a bowl of soap, he went down to the stream. He was careful to keep his promise, for when he returned he fairly glowed in his new state of cleanliness.
"Why, Aragorn," teased Legolas, "I do believe your hair is several shades lighter."
"And if it is, all the worse for me," retorted Aragorn, smiling, "for now I shall no longer blend in with the scenery."
"Ah, so that is why you keep yourself so grubby—it's a form of camouflage."
"Truly, there have been occasions when it has so served," Aragorn assured him, only half in jest. "You ascend a tree and are not seen; I throw myself upon the earth, and a legion of Orcs marches by unwittingly."
"Gives a new meaning to 'gone to ground'," joked Legolas.
"Yes," laughed Aragorn. "Yes, I suppose it does." Then he grew serious.
"Now, tell me, Legolas, what brings you to these parts? Were you tracking the same band of Orcs as I pursued?"
"No, we were returning from a visit to the Grey Havens and encountered them by accident."
"What errand took you to the Grey Havens?"
"My father sent me there in hopes that I would marry Círdan's niece."
"Círdan's niece?"
"Caranlass."
"Oh ho! King Thranduil will be in for a bit of shock when not his son but his carpenter returns espoused to Círdan's niece!"
"Yes, it is a bit of a check to his plan to marry me off, but it won't discourage him for long. He'll draw up another list of eligible ellith straightaway. With your leave, however, I'll tell him that he must leave Arwen off the list."
Lacking its usual protective coloration, Aragorn's skin shone a bright red as the Ranger blushed.
"You spoke to Arwen?" he mumbled.
"Yes. When I visited Imladris, it was generally rumored that I, the prince of Northern Mirkwood, was to be espoused to the daughter of Elrond. Arwen spoke to me to set my mind at rest that this was not her design."
Aragorn looked immensely relieved. He was not unaware of the fact that some would see Legolas as the most suitable match for the Lady Arwen. Apparently Legolas did not find such an alliance to be appealing. That was good to know.
Legolas divined his mind and smiled.
"Aragorn, I think you will find that your friends and kinsman, such of them as know of this proposed match, are well-disposed toward it. Elladan and Elrohir are a case in point. They were surprised to learn of it, yes, but soon saw that it was right and just. Even Elrond has no objection to you personally. It is merely that he is mindful of what must ensue as a result of the match."
"Yes," said Aragorn sadly, "and it grieves me that I must cause him pain."
Legolas shook his head.
"Wistfulness, yes, but not pain. For he is Arwen's father, and in the end, if she finds joy, then he cannot help but be happy for her. For consider, Aragorn, do you really believe that Arwen would embrace you if she thought that by doing so she would cause her father irremediable sorrow? For if it would grieve you to cause him pain, then how much more so would it grieve her!"
"Do you really believe this?" Aragorn asked hopefully.
"Yes," his friend replied firmly. "Elrond will test you—he will test her—to be sure that this marriage is more than a passing fancy, but when he is certain, then not only will he step aside, he will offer you his blessing."
Aragorn smiled gratefully at his friend. Just then Edwen Nana came up.
"Well," she said briskly, "I have washed your garments, and when they are dry, I shall mend them."
"Oh, no, Edwen Nana," Aragorn protested. "I must be on my way. I cannot stay until my clothes have been mended."
"Too bad," said Edwen Nana airily, "as I don't plan to return them to you until all the rents have been repaired. So, unless you plan to go off scouting in the altogether, you'll just have to rest here until I have finished with them. As no doubt you have been eating poorly, the stay will do you good, for it shall allow you to partake of several decent meals before you return to gadding about in the wild."
With that the indomitable nursemaid strolled off. Aragorn shrugged helplessly, while Legolas rolled on the ground laughing in a rather inelegant fashion.
"Oh, Aragorn," he gasped. "If we could only somehow introduce Edwen Nana into Barad-dûr, I'm sure she would set things to rights in no time at all!"
Aragorn grinned at the thought of the Dark Lord cowering before a forthright elleth armed with a brush and a bowl of soap. He could just imagine the sort of admonitions that she would utter. 'You had better clean your teeth before you open your mouth to threaten me'—yes, that was a sample of what she would say to the nonplussed Dark Lord and his minions. Aragorn joined Legolas in his laughter.
"Legolas, my friend, I can just see her glaring balefully at anyone who came at her. She would say to the poor creature, 'You had better not be planning to slice me up with such a filthy sword—you go and polish it this instant!'"
"Yes, that is the sort of thing she'd say," agreed Legolas. "Do you know, but lately there was an odd sort of creature skulking in the vicinity of this camp, and Edwen Nana at once set out to mother it. She didn't tell anyone of its presence, and she brought it food. She planned to continue to keep us in the dark so that she would have time to nurse it properly. I asked her what she had meant to do, and she said that, besides feeding it, she was going to try to bathe it, and to prevail upon it to accept a new breech clout if she couldn't contrive to clothe it altogether. But its wails attracted Tathar, and then it took fright and ran off."
Aragorn sobered instantly.
"Describe this creature to me."
"I didn't see it myself, Aragorn, but I understand it had pointed ears like an Elf, and hands and feet like any of the Free Folk, although it moved about on all fours like an animal. It was very thin and small, smaller even than a Dwarf."
"Did it have a name?" Aragorn asked sharply.
"Two, apparently. Gollum and Smeagol."
"That is a creature that Gandalf has been seeking for many years," Aragorn said, his voice low and intense.
"Yes, and when Mithrandir heard that it had been here shortly before his arrival, he left at once to follow after it."
Aragorn uttered a very nasty word in Black Speech.
"Aragorn!"
"My pardon, Legolas," Aragorn said hastily. "Do you know where Edwen Nana would have laid out my clothes to dry?"
"Yes, on the bushes near the stream."
"I pray you, slip over to those bushes and fetch my garments."
"They will still be very wet, Aragorn."
"It can't be helped. I must leave at once. I must find Gandalf before he finds the creature—or the creature finds him! I have been gathering news of Gollum in every land through which he has traveled. Gollum is very dangerous."
"And so is Mithrandir. I am sure that he is more than a match for such a pathetic being."
Aragorn shook his head vigorously.
"You are wrong, my friend. Gollum would slip up on Gandalf whilst he slept and grip him by the throat before he was ever aware. His magic would be useless because he would never have a chance to ply it."
Impressed by the urgency in the Ranger's voice, Legolas leapt to his feet.
"I will be back shortly," he promised, slipping at once into the scrub.
True to his word, a little while later he returned with Aragorn's clothes. Aragorn moved out of the circle of light cast by the fire and pulled them on, shivering and gasping as he did so.
"My boots, Legolas," he called softly, his teeth chattering.
Just then Edwen Nana approached the campfire bearing two bowls of stew.
"Where is Estel?" she asked suspiciously.
"Just stepped into the bushes to make water," Legolas replied. "Really, Edwen Nana, I do think he can manage to do that without supervision."
"Hmmph!" muttered Edwen Nana as if she doubted the truth of that assertion. However, she left the two bowls with Legolas and returned to the cooking fire. Legolas quickly carried both the boots and a bowl into the scrub. Aragorn pulled on his boots and then hastily wolfed down the stew whilst Legolas went back for the rest of the Ranger's kit. When he returned with the gear, Aragorn belted on his sword, shrugged on his pack and bedroll, and slipped on his quiver. Then picking up his bow, he bade farewell to his friend.
"Stay well, Legolas."
Trying to speak lightly, Legolas replied with a jest.
"That will be hard for me to do, my friend, for you are leaving me to face the wrath of Edwen Nana on my own!"
Aragorn smiled thinly, nodded slightly, and vanished into the scrub.