AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks once again all who have reviewed my story. ArwenElfstone: I am glad you like the story, and I am also glad it has such a Tolkienlike spirit to it as well. I have tried to do so :). Natulcien (if you get to this ch.): thank you soooo much!! When I read your review it totally made my day :)! Enjoy the rest of the story too. And the rest of you enjoy ch. 16!! The War of the Ring is fast approaching :)....
Travelling over the rocky terrain of the Emyn Muil, across the barren Brown Lands and around the southern region of the great forest of Mirkwood, the largest in Middle-earth, took many weeks yet finally Aragorn and his captive entered the dark eaves of that forest before they came near Esgaroth, a city of men by the Long Lake. Aragorn was taking no chances of bringing Gollum near Men or others.
The shadows engulfed them as Aragorn tugged Gollum behind him. Mirkwood could be a dangerous place and Gollum had been a part of that danger once before spreading rumours of a child-killing shadow. Another reason not to enter Esgaroth or its borders. They walked on with Gollum whimpering or muttering curses at Aragorn for he had come to hate the Heir of Isildur with a passion. He did not take capturing lightly.
Aragorn wondered if he had ever been caught or seized before. Most likely since he was in Mordor before I caught him. The scheming beast was apparently conversing with the Dark One the way he whines about his poor hands and the darkness. It will be a great joy to be rid of him at last.
The day passed, although the sun did not shine through the thick branches. Aragorn felt weariness coming upon him after journeying so long with the slimy, bony creature Gollum.
"Yessss. We likeses it. We remembers this place, we does preciousss. Gollum, gollum." Gollum's head swivelled around taking in the sight of the forest. "Ah! Must be careful, precious, don't want to hurtsss ourselves." Gollum had tripped over an immense root sprouting out of the ground. "It burns us! It burnss!" His fingers again reached for the rope around his neck but shied back before touching it.
Aragorn glared at him. Gollum cowered and crawled on hands and feet like he had for the past weeks. His strange, unpleasant stench had still not become typical after so long. The weariness struck him again; this time harder. He stumbled on his feet where it was smooth and almost fell to his knees. He halted the two-people company as he collapsed onto a root sticking up like a seat. Gollum hissed angrily.
"Where were you before I caught you?" Aragorn asked firmly. He had tried asking questions of him and even attempted a form of kindness all to no avail. Gollum only made a noise in his throat and glared right back with a gleam in his large, pale eyes. Aragorn met that gaze fiercely making Gollum cringe and step back. "You will soon wish you had answered my questions."
They started again deeper into the wood whose air was thick and stale with a touch of green. Mighty boughs bent to reach out to passer-by brushing against them with hanging leaves green as emeralds. The ground was soft but many furrows, mounds, and uneven ground covered the forest floor thick with underbrush and bracken. Aragorn's booted feet sank into it, brown earth clinging. The trees did not thin for some time until he could sense the threat of the shadows lessen. A grim smile split his mouth. His keen ears picked up a disturbance in the still silence, however, not really sound. He shifted his gaze into the trees to find a glimmer pass by. He stopped.
"Aragorn son of Arathorn, you are known to us," rang a voice out of the many shadows of the trees, "and are welcome in the elven realm of Mirkwood." A tall figure stepped out in front of Aragorn and his captive holding a bow strung with an arrow shaft coloured with green and brown, the colours of the forest. The Elf bowed slightly all the while watching Gollum with his rope. "What is this creature you bring?" His bright blue eyes flitted like a bird from Gollum to Aragorn standing taller than he.
Aragorn returned the greeting and bow. "His name might have slipped into a conversation of yours, kind Elf." He lowered his voice. "He once was called Sméagol but now is named Gollum."
The Elf shifted on his feet in soft boots laced right below the knee. His dark bronze hair shimmered even in the gloom when he nodded his head. "Yes. I have heard the name. Gollum at least." The object of their discussion hissed through his teeth when he looked at the Elf. "Legolas, the son of Thranduil, was the one who brought word long ago of this one. He is quite wretched if what is said of him is true."
Aragorn nodded and fingered the rope in his hand glad to be leaving Gollum with someone else who could handle him.
The Elf smiled. "You seem eager to be here. Is this because of him leaving you? I believe Legolas mentioned something of keeping that creature here in our dungeons. He will be safe to keep there."
Aragorn nodded again saying, "Yes, that is true. I thank you greatly for taking him off my hands."
"You will come with me then?"
"Not this time, my friend. Give this message to Legolas: thank you for all your assistance and aid in this situation. I shall always be in the debt of you and your kin."
The Elf nodded in acceptance as Aragorn carefully handed him the rope attached to Gollum who watched with wary eyes. He muttered some more. The Elf raised an eyebrow when he saw this and shook his head. "Now I understand your distress with this...thing. How long did you have him?"
"Many long weeks. I found him in the Dead Marshes and journeyed here straight away," said Aragorn.
"The Dead Marshes? How did you manage for all that time with him? I commend you for bearing such a burden, yet if you must go then be on your way, Eldandil. May the blessings of the Elves go with you."
"And also with you," Aragorn said bowing low. "You have done me much service." Gollum was finally taken off his hands. Aragorn felt a burden lift from his shoulders. He watched the tall Elf disappear into the trees with Gollum trailing behind squealing and protesting. "At last," he murmured. He began walking into the forest to make his way back to the North draped in shadow but his eyes were ever full of light.
It was now around a year since Gollum had been taken by Aragorn and given into Thranduil's care in Mirkwood. Aragorn had taken up his roll as Chieftain of the Dúnedain once more in the North of Middle-earth, guiding them in protecting those who lived there. The lands were becoming more dangerous as the Dark One's power lengthened exceedingly.
"Lord Aragorn!" cried a voice from the trees. Aragorn waited for the young Ranger Tarcil to reach him in the shadows. His higher voice was not difficult to recognise. "My lord, you must hear the word that has come!"
Aragorn stepped forward into the small clearing golden with morning sun. The pure light glistened on the grass wet with dew. He saw the Ranger running towards him taking long strides.
"Lord Aragorn," he panted when he also walked into the clearing. "There is word from our people in the Shire."
"What word?" asked Aragorn.
Tarcil answered in a grim tone. "It is grieving news. Rangers guarding the Shire and its inhabitants have been...chased and cut down. They said a darkness...a darkness on black horses swept through their guard like the cutting wind of winter. Only few escaped and one returned to give us this news."
Aragorn rubbed a hand across his brow brushing back his dark hair. His eyes glistened in the morning light. "Where is the man?"
Tarcil shook his head sadly. "He is being tended by Halbarad. I do not think he will live."
He did not wait before making his way back to the camp where they were to stay for a night or two. A small fire burned in the middle but little else was there. Three horses tied to the trees stood nibbling the grass to green stubs with the few small packs of the Rangers laid on the ground beside them. There were three in their camp: Aragorn, Halbarad, and Tarcil the youngest Ranger out of the whole of Dúnedain. Halbarad was a dear friend of Aragorn's and was the highest in the Dúnedain besides himself.
Aragorn's eyes immediately went to Halbarad when he entered the second clearing, this one larger. He was cradling the head of a younger man, though older than Tarcil, with a pained expression on his face.
Halbarad looked up when Aragorn and Tarcil came near. "Aragorn, we need your healing badly," he said quietly. "Aravel is his name, and he came from guarding the Halflings in the Shire. Something happened you will wish to hear of in full." Tarcil nodded.
"Yes, but first I must aid this young man."
Halbarad's eyes darkened. "He has been wounded more fatally than what any ordinary blade can do, my lord. There were more than riders in black in this attack. In his fever he muttered about darkness and shadow. He is almost gone."
Aragorn knelt beside the two on the ground and took a few old leaves from the small pouch at his belt. "Bring me some water." Tarcil rushed to obey his word and soon held out a bowl of tepid water to him clear as the sky. "Thank you." The leaves permeated a refreshing scent and rejuvenating life once Aragorn had crushed them into the water, mixing it with his finger. Tarcil's chest rose with a deep breath of the strange air that had come into the clearing as did Halbarad.
"Eru save him," Halbarad murmured sorrowfully watching Aravel's face; it was pale as the death that was nearing him. Tarcil lowered his head while Aragorn applied the mixture of the leaves, called athelas, and water onto what seemed a minor wound in the man's lower arm. Aravel groaned and jerked his head.
"He is the only one who can," Aragorn whispered to himself. He brought his hands to Aravel's head and closed his eyes, delving inside of him. 1. "Attul na cálë, Aravel." At length Aragorn opened his eyes and sat back on his heels gently setting Aravel's head on the blanket beneath him from his fever. "That is all I am able to do. Now we shall wait and see how our young friend fares." A thin smile reached his lips. "Aravel may live much longer, I think, than we believed."
Tarcil slowly released a breath he had been holding and collapsed on the ground, crossing his legs one over the other. "That is indeed a good thing," he said. "Aravel is a good, strong man."
Halbarad nodded in agreement and moved closer to the still form. "Are you sure he will live? He is still too pale."
"He is returning to us, my friends. All he needs is rest for the day to recover fully. He lasted long for having a wound given him by one of the Nazgûl. When he wakes I shall commend him. There are few who would have lived after such pain and darkness. Aravel has Eru to thank once he regains his past strength," said Aragorn.
"And you, my lord," Halbarad said watching his captain with a discerning eye. "You were ever the one to brush off acknowledgement when you had done something to deserve it...or not. For that I respect you."
"My thanks to you," Aragorn said with a nod. "Now we can only wait and hear the tale this man will tell."
Night shrouded the sun hours later while the three Rangers waited and watched with vigilance, not only with Aravel. The woods still held lurking dangers when least expected even with the Dúnedain's keeping of the Northern lands. Aravel sat up straight when he awakened from the darkness and looked around with wary eyes. He had been shaken badly at the borders of the Shire.
Aragorn rushed to him. "Aravel, be careful how you carry yourself for you are not fully healed. Rest should be first on your mind." Aragorn knelt beside him in the dimness. Aravel pulled trembling hands from beneath the warm blankets that had covered him. Aragorn put gentle hands on the man's shoulders to push him back down so he could continue to rest.
"No!" Aravel hissed. "I cannot rest now, my lord. Is it truly you?"
Aragorn nodded and allowed him to rise, pulling his hands away as he watched the man's appearance carefully. "Why is it you are not able to sleep?"
"There is too much in my mind to keep me awake till the ends of time. Too much shadow and darkness. There was so much chaos and fear that night I could not recall much of what happened in the turmoil. I ran until my feet became blistered and not till then did I realise where I was going. My feet had lead me in the direction of where I had heard before that you were. It was also the time my arm began to throb like nothing I have ever felt." His hand brushed against the bound wound. "What was it in the darkness of night? Please let me know, Lord Aragorn. I cannot live with visions without knowing what it was."
"You have heard of the Enemy's minions, higher than the rest, called Ringwraiths?"
Aravel's eyes, their grey-blue depths not ashamed to show such great fear, darkened. "They were those dark figures?"
Aragorn nodded slowly, hoping the new information would not trouble him when he was beginning to heal. He did not say anything more for fear of this. Aravel was left to ponder his words while he lay there in the shadows of night.
"Do you think it was right to tell him?" Halbarad asked when he fell in beside his captain out of earshot. "Perhaps...perhaps not. He would have been more distressed without knowing. Would you not?"
Halbarad agreed if reluctantly. "It still does not seem right to leave him with the knowledge of the Nine let loose upon Middle-earth and not only that but they are in the Shire after fighting through our guard which has never faltered before. His dreams will be plagued for more than one night, I fear."
"Yes, yet that is far better than letting his mind wander farther than it should. The mind can imagine things that never should be and are worse than what is. Especially with someone as bright as he," said Aragorn glancing back to where Aravel lay trying to rest himself after his ordeal. "We are going to have to do something about the Enemy's servants in the Shire. They are searching for what the Dark One wants more than anything now." Aragorn did not mention he knew what it was. They were going to have to act soon for Sauron could not get a hold of the One Ring, or the world would come to darkness and his terrible rule dominate all that was once beautiful and pure. Even with all his composure and smooth face, a shudder ran down his spine at the horrid thought.
"My lord, is everything well?" Halbarad asked quietly when he saw Aragorn's shiver. Aragorn rarely let his anxiety or fear show. "All is as well as can be for the time being, my friend. Dark times have reached us at last though over the years things have become tainted. The fate of Middle-earth is resting on the end of this Age. I feared this day would come," Aragorn said with dread.
Halbarad shook his head. "It is still difficult to listen to your words, Strider," he said, "when they seem like someone else's from ages past. It is your voice but...you seem different when you say things of fate and such. A new wind blows in from the West bringing change."
"We will see," Aragorn said softly turning his head toward the West where the sun had set not long ago, the mountains snuffing the shining light. "We will see. I must go to Bree."
1. Come again to the light, Aravel.