CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The sword lesson the following afternoon was difficult. Dior, Eldarion, Túnír and Balrant were still together for the lessons, the four of the them being at the same stage in their training. Dior was made to feel like an outsider, Eldarion having firmly rejected his friendship while Túnír and Balrant took slight at the fact that one they had called friend had snubbed a Valar decreed gift. The sword instructor – a man named Culas – did not care about any falling out the teenagers may have had.
"You do not get along with every one of your fellow soldiers yet you still count on them when in battle," he had said when Balrant had protested about being Dior's sparring partner. The youths had to admit that Culas had a point but that did not mean Balrant was at all impressed over the arrangements.
Túnír kept a very watchful eye on Eldarion throughout the lesson and afterwards, just to make sure that there were no ill effects from whatever the Prince had suffered from the previous afternoon. So far he was taking things rather well considering. As soon as Arahael had walked through the door after Eldarion had been put to bed, Túnír had bombarded his father with questions about Eldarion. All Arahael would say was that Eldarion had had another fit and that he was in a drugged sleep. He would divulge no details of the bond between Eldarion and Elboron. That was Eldarion's secret and he was not going to increase the possibility of Eldarion losing another 'weigh-stone' simply because of a misunderstanding.
Eventually however the barbed comments from Dior became too much for Eldarion and he handed his weapon over calmly to Túnír before violently lashing out at a fence post. Culas was about to physically restrain Eldarion when Túnír stood in his way.
"It is better that he lose his temper with a wooden object than him," he said, pointing at Dior. Culas looked down at Túnír and back at Eldarion who was now leaning against the post, not caring that he had accumulated a few splinters in his knuckles, his eyes closed and his breathing deep as though he was asleep.
"Could someone please explain what is going on?" asked Culas. He knew Dior had a habit of stating things in the meanest possible way and that he was very set in his way of thinking, but Eldarion had usually taken the comments as constructive criticism. Never had he seen him lose his temper because of a spoken word.
"He expected us to accept his unnatural tendencies," replied Dior.
"I beg your pardon?" said Culas, turning to Dior.
"He loves in an unnatural way. He has a soul-mate bond with a Gondorian. A male Gondorian," replied Dior, smirking.
"It is not unnatural. Nor is it a soul-mate bond," whispered Eldarion, his eyes still closed. "It is not your secret to tell."
"But if it is natural, why keep it a secret?" jeered Dior. Eldarion's hackles were rising again.
"Because people like you are too narrow minded to accept what is decreed by the Gods!" snapped Eldarion. "Because it is no business of my people who I share a connection with!"
Eldarion, please…… whispered a voice that seemed be carried on the wind. Eldarion looked startled but answered anyway.
"Elboron?"
Yes, gwador nîn. Reduce the walls. Let me take your anger. my brother
"No! Your hurt!"
"See. It is stronger than what he was telling. He can hear his soul-mate," sneered Dior. Balrant was beginning to look sceptical that the bond was as innocent as Eldarion was protesting.
Reduce the walls, Eldarion, pleaded Elboron's voice as Eldarion glared at Dior. His gaze darkened further when he noticed Balrant's gaze. Turning to Túnír, who was looking nothing but concerned, Eldarion held out a hand. Confused by the gesture, Túnír took the proffered limb.
"I will need your support," said Eldarion.
"What are you doing?" asked Túnír.
"I am opening my bond with Elboron. He will share my anger. I will share his pain," answered Eldarion. Túnír nodded.
"Túnír you are not actually falling for his story are you?" asked Dior, his mouth hanging open. Túnír did not answer.
"Now, Elboron," whispered Eldarion and immediately crumpled as pain washed through his system.
Rohan
Elfwine sat holding Elboron tightly in his arms as the elder tried to relieve the anger that was flooding through him. Eldarion's anger mingled with his own. Who had dared rile his companion up so?
"Elboron, listen to me," commanded Elfwine. "You must relax. The whole point of you trying this was to reduce what Eldarion was feeling. With the bond open, he receives any of your emotions!"
"I will kill who ever has hurt him this badly," snarled Elboron. "No one makes my cub suffer and gets away with it!"
"No!" barked Elfwine. "That will solve nothing. He is a fourteen-year-old, it is his right to feel strongly. Help him through this and he will grow out of it. Now relax!"
Elboron closed his eyes and concentrated on the suppressing the anger that was flowing into his spirit. He flooded the link with all the love he felt for Eldarion and felt the same being returned. Together the two spirits met and a haze surrounded them, slowly letting the anger and pain dissipate. No words were exchanged, for none were needed. The two youths simply allowed their love to surround and fill them, quashing any negative emotions.
Annúminas
Túnír sat with Eldarion cradled in his arms as the Prince slowly regained control over his emotions. Culas, who had become incredible concerned when Eldarion had seemingly lost consciousness, had sent for Aragorn. The two men now sat in front of the two teenagers, watching as Eldarion regained awareness.
"Are you feeling better?" asked Túnír. Eldarion nodded.
"Hannon le," he said quietly. thank you
"Eldarion, what exactly happened?" asked Aragorn. Eldarion shook his head.
"Not here. Not now," he said. Dior was still hanging about and the less he knew of the bond the less ammunition he had to fire.
"You have splinters in your knuckles," said Culas. Eldarion glanced down at his fist and gave a weak laugh.
"I think the fence post came off worse," he said. Culas looked up at the said wooden post and hmmed in agreement. Eldarion had hit it so forcefully that the top had partially split. Fortunately, the splinters in Eldarion's knuckles were not that deeply embedded so it was easy for them to be removed, which Culas promptly did.
"Are you sure you are alright?" said Túnír as Eldarion pushed himself into a position whereby he could sit under his own volition.
"I feel much better," assured Eldarion. "Now, Culas, were you not saying something about parries?"
Aragorn, it transpired had not written to Faramir as he had told Eldarion. Upon his son's revelation that Elboron was closer than Minas Tirith, he had written to Éomer, sincerely hoping that Elboron was in Rohan otherwise Elfwine and Éomer would be thrown into a panic.
Five days later, Faerlain reappeared in Annúminas, a note from Éomer clasped firmly in her talons.
"Aragorn," it began. "I will not ask how you knew of Elboron's accident, as I will likely end up more confused than I am now. Elboron was thrown by Gílroch whilst out riding with Elfwine. He has damaged the lower left side of his body though our healers are sure he will make a full recovery. If you and Eldarion wish to visit, my Halls are open. Yours in friendship, Éomer."
"What did he land on?" asked Aragorn, to anyone who was listening.
"Why did Gílroch thrown him?" was Eldarion's question. "That horse is a loyal beast. It is unlikely that he would suddenly reject Elboron."
"You met the stallion once, six months ago," remarked Aragorn. Eldarion shrugged.
"Can I go?"
"Annúminas does not have enough rope to tie you here. And even if it did, you would likely escape anyway," smiled Aragorn. "We leave in two days."
"I have to tell Nana which story to tell Faerveren," said Eldarion as he stood.
"You still speak of her?" asked Aragorn looking up from the reply to Éomer's note.
"Of course I do," said Eldarion. "She is gone but not forgotten."
"May be you should write them down. That way others will be able to know the exploits of Gondor's Princess," said Aragorn.
"Bookwork!" exclaimed Eldarion, looking affronted by the very idea. Aragorn burst out laughing at the sight, recalling a former Captain-General who had offered an almost identical response when it was suggested he spend a rainy day in the library.
"It is not as bad as you think," he laughed. Eldarion pulled a face in disgust before leaving the room.
"What do you mean you are leaving?" demanded Túnír that evening. Aragorn had just explained to Arahael that he would be needed to take on the responsibility of leadership again for a short period of time.
"It is only for a few weeks," said Eldarion. "I need to know that Elboron is alright. Once he is on his feet again, I will be back. I promise."
"You better be. I really do not want to deal with Dior on my own," said Túnír. Eldarion laughed.
"Let us plot what to do," he grinned. Túnír returned the grin and without paying the slightest bit of attention to the raised eyebrows offered by both their fathers, the pair made a dash for the opposite side of the hall.
"How long will you be away?" asked Arahael, shaking his head at the two teenagers.
"No more than two months," said Aragorn. Arahael nodded. Aragorn cocked his head. "You are missing Tarcil," he stated. Arahael let out a deep sigh and nodded.
"Go to him," said Aragorn.
"I will, when you get back from Rohan," agreed Arahael.
"No. I will ask Culas to lead. Arwen is in charge anyway so he will only be helping her understand Annúminas. You are going to the Stronghold to be with Tarcil."
"But it is my place to lead these people!" protested Arahael.
"Arahael, how long did I spend with our people? Believe me, compared to the time I spent away from the Stronghold, it is pitiful," stated Aragorn, folding his arms.
"That was different. You were out fighting the forces of Sauron," retorted Arahael. "If I went to the Stronghold, it would be to satisfy a personal desire."
"The people here need your total commitment. Arahael, when was the last time you saw Tarcil?"
"Last August."
"That settles it. You are going to the Stronghold. Yes I will make it an order if I have to. As I said, these people need your undivided attention. You will not be able to give that when half your mind is wandering the countryside with your heart," said Aragorn in a tone that advised Arahael that arguing would get him nowhere.
"Alright. I will leave at the same time you do," submitted Arahael.
"Take Túnír with you. That way Dior will be unharmed for another few months," laughed Aragorn, watching as Eldarion gesticulated something to Túnír who was laughing and obviously agreeing with Eldarion's idea which appeared to involve stringing something up.
Two days later
Eldarion was in the stables, preparing Súldál for the trip to Rohan. Aragorn was in the neighbouring box, preparing Brego for the journey. For some reason, he was kneeling in the straw and so was unnoticed by the visitor to the stable.
"Off to see your lover? Or are you simply running away because we will not accept your unnatural ways?" jeered Dior as he sauntered in. Balrant was at Dior's side and to see him at least physically agree with Dior felt like a dagger to Eldarion's heart. He had counted this pair as friends. It appeared they had been to caught up with the idea of being friends with the son of their King to really care.
"Dior, how old are we? Fourteen. We have barely began to mature so how in the name of the Valar would I have a lover?" replied Eldarion, tightening Súldál's saddle.
"Inhale you rascal," he chastised as Súldál's chest increased in size. "I will leave you behind if you insist on showing me up." Súldál snorted in protest but did as he was told, allowing Eldarion to tighten the strap. The idea of being left behind in Annúminas when the other option was running wild in Rohan did not sit well with Súldál so it made him putty in Eldarion's hand.
"You are asking me how to explain the mutations of your Elven blood," replied Dior. Eldarion continued to prepare Súldál, moving round to tease the bit into the horse's mouth. He caught sight of Aragorn who had now stood up again and shook his head the fraction of an inch to either side, indicating that he could deal with this himself.
"They are not mutations. Nor was I asking you to explain something which you are refusing to understand. I am simply responding to your question," replied Eldarion, presenting Súldál with an apple half from his pocket. Súldál crunched it loudly, bits of apple and saliva spraying out as Súldál negotiated his tongue and the apple around his bit.
"Your soul-mate is a male Gondorian. You keep it a secret as though you are ashamed of it. What are we misunderstanding?" asked Balrant, resting his elbows on his stable door.
"One, the part where I explained it was none of your business and two, it is not a soul-mate bond!" replied Eldarion. "When I return from Rohan, I pray that you have found some intelligence."
With that, Eldarion unbolted the stable door and led Súldál out of the box. Out in the courtyard, Eldarion was met by Faerveren, Arwen and Imlosiel. His sisters were still dressed in their sleeping clothes and Imlosiel looked as though she would be better suited in her bed.
"Write to us when you get to Rohan," said Faerveren, not phrasing it as a request, more a demand. Eldarion dropped to his knees in front of the girl and held out his arms. The siblings embraced and Eldarion kissed her temple.
"I will write as soon as I can," he promised. "You be a big girl now and help Nana look after Imlosiel." Faerveren nodded. Even though Eldarion had been the only child of Aragorn and Arwen for seven years, Faerveren had forever known the company of her brother and was as attached to him as Eldarion had been to Elboron at her age. This was the first time that Faerveren was going to be in a different place from her brother and she was a little scared.
"You will come back?" she asked. Even at only seven-years-old, Faerveren knew that Eldarion was not completely happy in Annúminas, regardless how much he tried to hide the fact. She was worried that once he had met Elboron again, that he would stay with him rather than returning to the north.
"I promise," whispered Eldarion. He unclasped one of the clasps that was holding his hair back and slid it into Faerveren's hair. Aragorn blinked suddenly at the display as he watched from the stable door. Brego snorted, sensing Aragorn's sudden melancholy.
"It's alright, Brego," whispered Aragorn, patting the nose of the Rohirric mount. "Forgive an old man his thoughts of times past."
Brego snorted again. In his humble opinion, though he was unable to give it voice, Aragorn was anything but old, he was simply greying around the edges. Eldarion had completed his farewells to his sister and his mother and was now mounted on Súldál, the stallion eager to be off.
"Easy," laughed Eldarion, calming the animal with his hands. "Ada has to say farewell as well. We will be off soon enough."
Ten minutes later father and son were indeed off, trotting through the city which was coming alive with morning activity, before both Brego and Súldál decided to take matters into their own hands (or hooves) and switched quickly into a gallop, leaving Eldarion and Aragorn little choice but to hang on as the stallions raced each other along the path leading to the Great East Road and later the Greenway.
Hey guys. You know the twin-rings that Aragorn and Eldarion have? I now have a picture of them. See my profile page for the address and let us now what you think.