CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
For next three days Tarcil and Arahael were not seen by the general populace of Annúminas. The rangers from the Stronghold were not impressed by Eldarion's command that they were not allowed to see their leader and had even gone to Aragorn in an attempt to have the order overruled but Aragorn was in no mind to overturn a command made by his son. Apart from the fact that Tarcil did not need to be surrounded by another five worried people, it would undermine Eldarion's word which was the last thing Aragorn was about to do. Other than the regular visits from Aragorn, Eldarion, Túnír and Elrohir, the two brothers were left alone.
The scout team which had been dispatched sent back a missive with Faerlain on the fourth day, detailing the situation at the Stronghold. Elladan was feeling suitably humbled when it was revealed that the Stronghold had indeed been attacked by nomads. Ten people were dead, including two children, several others were sporting some kind of injury or other though none were as badly wounded as Tarcil. A quarter of the rural village had been destroyed. Aragorn had sent a missive back to the group ordering them to bring the survivors back to the city.
Eldarion was feeling guilty over his handling of Arahael's 'nagging feeling'. After all, wasn't he the one who had told Arahael he had the bond and what it entailed? On the one occasion Arahael had expressed the result of that bond, Eldarion has simply laughed at him and said that it was the result of the meal he had just eaten! Arahael however was having none of it and told Eldarion so, saying that Tarcil is his twin and not connected to Eldarion by anything another than a distant ancestor. Since Arahael didn't know what was wrong there was no way that Eldarion could have been expected to know! Eldarion was not completely convinced but decided against saying so.
"Eldarion, did you tell Túnír the truth? He said something about me remaining strong and Tarcil would fight to survive," said Arahael.
It was the fifth evening after Tarcil had arrived and Eldarion was once again in the room that the twins were currently sharing. Túnír was laying with his head in Eldarion's lap and caught up in a fitful sleep. The youth had been in a catatonic state since his uncle had taken ill and sheer terror of what might happen to the man had kept him away from the injured man's room unless Eldarion literally dragged him there. At the same time, the worry was wearing him down. Just as Eldarion relied on Túnír to keep him sane in Annúminas, Túnír was now looking to Eldarion for hope and comfort.
Eldarion bit his lip, glancing at first Tarcil and then Arahael who was watching him with hope in his eyes.
"Honestly? I don't know. Elladan and Elrohir have a strong bond and they often lend each other strength but then I think about Ada and Kalya. Ada was desperate for Kalya to live but she still passed," he said, concentrating on Túnír's head, not wanting to see the hopeful flame be extinguished from Arahael's eye. "He is healing though, so may be there was some truth in what I said."
Arahael smiled gratefully at his young kinsman. Even if what he said was just a words it helped fan the flame of hope in Arahael's heart.
"Has he woken at all?" asked Eldarion, nodding his head in the direction of Tarcil.
"A few times, but for never more than a few minutes. His body is still in shock," said Arahael. Eldarion smiled.
"He better heal quickly because the rangers he brought with him are beginning to drive me insane!" said Eldarion as he shifted on the couch. On his lap Túnír muttered something and hugged his knee.
"In what way?" asked Arahael.
"They are not appreciative of the fact that I told them they were not allowed to see Tarcil," replied Eldarion. "They asked Ada if they could and he said no as well, so they are asking about him every time I see them and keep muttering that it is unfair that I can see you but they can't."
Arahael smiled. "Tarcil is a popular leader. Even when we were children in the Stronghold, Tarcil was able to charm even the most stubborn ranger into doing what was needed. He was Aragorn's and Father's secret weapon."
"So were you," whispered Tarcil as his eyes fluttered open. Arahael was straight at his side.
"Good evening sleepy-head," said Arahael, applying pressure to Tarcil's hand. Tarcil smiled, returning the pressure, and shifted his head to gaze at Eldarion.
"I owe you an apology," he said quietly. Eldarion's eyes widened.
"Whatever for?"
"My dramatic entrance ruined the celebration for your sixteenth Birth Day," replied Tarcil. Eldarion immediately shook his head.
"The important people had already bid me well. The meal was simply a means by which everyone else could do the same," he said. "It was beginning to get tedious."
"You are too forgiving," said Arahael. Eldarion grinned.
"No, it just takes to much effort to hold a grudge."
"Lazy," muttered Túnír as he moved beside Eldarion, looking for a more comfortable position. Eldarion chuckled.
"Stop that. I can't sleep if you are moving," groused Túnír.
"The bed is more comfortable," replied Eldarion.
"You're warm," returned Túnír. "Besides Uncle's in the bed."
"I'm sure he wouldn't mind sharing," laughed Eldarion. Túnír's gentle snore was the only answer to his statement.
Tarcil and Arahael sat mute, watching the display in front of them. Tarcil shifted his head again so that it was laying on Arahael's thigh and made himself comfortable before falling back to sleep. A gentle knock sounded on the door and Arahael looked up.
"It's open Elrohir," he called.
"How did you know it was me?" asked the Elf as he entered the room.
"When you have four regular visitors you begin to see a pattern," replied Arahael. "Eldarion and Túnír are here and Aragorn uses his fist to knock."
Elrohir chuckled, moving over to the bed. "And how is your brother?"
"Just fallen asleep again," replied Arahael.
"How long was he awake?" asked Elrohir.
"About five minutes," replied Arahael. "He was talking this time."
"An improvement on yesterday," said Elrohir as he sat at their side and began to examine his patient. "His wounds are healing nicely, though the bite still looks a little angry. He will have to keep the poultice on for a couple more days. The next time he wakes make sure he eats something."
"Are the others alright?" asked Arahael. "The rangers who came with him."
"A few scratches and a couple of broken bones but nothing as serious as Tarcil. The rest of your people have been ordered to retreat to the city," answered Elrohir.
"The Stronghold?"
"Ten dead, several injured and a quarter of the village destroyed," rattled off Elrohir. "We will know more once they arrive."
"How long?"
"Till they arrive? Probably a week, we don't know how badly they are injured," replied Elrohir. Arahael nodded.
"Alright, I will leave you to your rest. Eldarion, your father is looking for you," said Elrohir. Eldarion nodded, biting his lip. He knew as soon as he exited the room, he was going to be bombarded by questions concerning Tarcil's health.
"Túnír, you have to wake up," he muttered, juggling Túnír's shoulder.
"Why?" murmured Túnír.
"Ada wants to speak to me and you are preventing me from rising. You stay here and keep your father company," replied Eldarion. Túnír nodded and standing up, shuffled, half asleep, to the bed where he lay down beside Arahael, mimicking Tarcil's position.
"Now he finds the bed comfortable!" laughed Eldarion. Arahael chuckled as well and rested a hand on his son's onyx black hair.
"Thank you Eldarion," he said.
"What for?"
"Keeping his spirits up. Believe it or not, he has led a rather sheltered life in the city. This is the first time he has been forced to deal with something like this," replied Arahael.
"What are friends for?" asked Eldarion with a shrug. "And without him I would be adrift in this city. I better be going before Ada comes hunting for me." Arahael grinned as Eldarion and Elrohir departed the room.
"Ada? You wanted to speak to me?" Eldarion poked his head round the door of his father's study.
"Ah, Eldarion. Come in and close the door," said Aragorn, looking up from the paper in his hand.
"This does not sound good," said Eldarion as he stood in front of the desk.
"It is nothing to worry about. I was simply wanting to ask you whether you feel up to taking on a little more leadership role when the refugees arrive in the city," said Aragorn resting his elbows on his desk.
"Why?" asked Eldarion. "Shouldn't that be someone like Culas or Nemír?"
"I heard of how you took over when Tarcil collapsed," said Aragorn. "The men followed you orders and no one has yet come to me with complaints, other than not being allowed into Tarcil's room but then I would not have allowed them in either."
"What exactly would I be doing?" asked Eldarion, willing to take on the responsibility but wanting to know precisely what he would be letting himself in for.
"Making sure that the refugees are tended to properly. That they are fed and warm as soon as they arrive and that they have a roof over their heads," detailed Aragorn. "Once they are settled, we will see how you have coped and whether you are up to taking on other responsibilities."
"Alright. So long you are there to help me. I can think of a few people who will not be keen on taking orders from a sixteen-year-old," replied Eldarion.
"I will be there," reassured Aragorn with a smile. Eldarion smiled in return. "Now, tell me how is Tarcil?"
"He is waking," replied Eldarion. "Not for very long but he is coherent. Uncle Elrohir said that his wounds are healing satisfactorily."
"That is good to know. Now all we have to is work out to tell him he is confined to the city until his ankle is healed," smiled Aragorn.
"Why don't we let Arahael tell him that bit of news? It will do him some good to have his brother around for the next few weeks away," said Eldarion.
"Arahael or Tarcil?"
"Both."
"You may be right. You are working wonders with Túnír by the way. Arahael and Tarcil are the only family he has ever known," said Aragorn with a smile.
"Arahael said the same thing," replied Eldarion. "And I am only returning what he has done for me since we arrived two years ago. My only hope is that Elboron has found someone to do the same."
The Stronghold refugees arrived eight days later and every able bodied ranger from the city was involved in helping them resettle. They all looked exhausted and were immediately shepherded to the communal bathing areas by Arwen and Elladan where the servants had drawn several hot baths. The scouts were each sent to their own chambers or with their people, which ever was their preference. After they had washed, Glorfindel, Haldir and Culas went in search of Aragorn.
Merry, Pippin and Sam were involved in the Kitchens, preparing simple foods for the refugees for after they had cleansed themselves from the dirt of the journey. Once they were clean, the ranger families were directed straight to the Hall, via Elrohir and the healers if they needed treatment for the varying cuts and scrapes they had sustained.
'Eldarion!' yelled Rúmil over the hubbub of the hall. Eldarion, who had been attached to Túnír as the youth was bombarded with questions over his uncle's health, glanced up to see Rúmil waving at him. Clasping Túnír on the shoulder and then weaving his way through the crowd, Eldarion arrived at the Elf's side to find him with a couple of children attached to him.
'What can I do for you?' smiled Eldarion.
'You can take one of these imps,' replied Rúmil. Eldarion chuckled and relieved Rúmil of the younger of the two; a boy of about three years old.
'Where are their parents?'
'Their father was killed in the battle. Their mother is currently being comforted by Arwen,' replied Rúmil.
'Ah, so you are the reassuring face?'
'Cheeky sprite!' exclaimed Rúmil. 'Just remember that I am the one who is married and a father in my family. My brother still has to settle with a wife. Orophin was the same.'
Eldarion chuckled before switching back to Westron and addressing the boy in his arms. "My name's Eldarion. What are you called?"
The boy removed his thumb from his mouth, said "Hinluin" before reinserting his thumb.
"Blue eyes?" asked Eldarion, twisting his neck to see if the name's meaning rang true. It certainly did. Staring back at Eldarion were eyes of the deepest sapphire blue. Set against the slightly browned skin and jet hair, the three-year-old was nothing short of cute.
"And who are you?" asked Eldarion, turning to the fifteen-year-old boy who was clinging on to Rúmil's arm for what seemed like dear life.
'Alam,' replied Rúmil.
"He doesn't talk much," said Hinluin. Eldarion nodded in understanding and shifting Hinluin on to one hip, held out his other hand to Alam.
"This hall is a little crowded, why don't we go and find my sisters?" he asked. Alam nodded fell into step beside Eldarion. Eldarion wrapped an arm around his shoulders while Hinluin settled his head on Eldarion's shoulder.
'Rúmil, if anyone comes looking for them, can you tell them that we are in Imlosiel's room?' asked Eldarion. 'And that I have kidnapped Túnír, he looks ready to hit someone!'
Rúmil laughed. 'I'll tell them. Haldir will probably make a point on seeing you this evening. This expedition was harder on him than he is letting on.' Eldarion nodded before turning back to his friend.
"Túnír! Come on, we are going to find the girls," called Eldarion. He almost laughed at the look of unmistakeable relief that passed over Túnír's face at the announcement. The Annúminas youth quickly joined Eldarion and together they took Hinluin and Alam away from the hustle and bustle of the hall.