Chapter Twenty-two
The following day, a group left Helm's Deep for Isengard. Amongst this group was Gandalf, whose thoughts lingered on someone very dear to him. This person was likely still unconscious under the watchful eye of Haldir. Normally, he would not trust anyone save a select few. Somehow, Haldir had found his way into that very diminutive (by size) group. And he trusted him to watch over her.
His worry was no longer for Ilmare. That had been cured with a single spell to protect her mind from Sauron's. His apprehension was now directed toward Sauron's reaction to his newly acquired knowledge of Ilmare's whereabouts. For the past several hundred years, his only inkling as to where she was stemmed from a single promise made just before he had revealed his true nature to her: that she would send him some sort of sign before travelling either to or from Valinor. Her promise would hold, despite their estrangement, until one of them died. In fact, her plan for leaving was to wait until she was at the very docks of Mithlond to send a signal. She had neglected to articulate what specifically the signal was to be, though he suspected her plan was to send a spell of light to him. It would be difficult over such a distance, but she would have the time on the ship to recover.
"Gandalf?"
"Hmmm?" he asked inarticulately, wistful as he was.
Aragorn met his eyes with a piercing, calculative stare. "She is safe with Haldir," he assured the wizard, perceiving the subject of his anxiety.
"Yes, but will she be safe? She almost died, and yet there is so much before us all...before the end."
"Frodo has the same risks," Aragorn pointed out.
"And Arwen?"
Aragorn sighed at that. "Fair enough...
No more was said. Instead, they lapsed into silence as both of them were carried to thoughts of the one they loved.
"Aragorn!" a loud, though not sharp, call came from the front of the column.
The ranger looked up to see Theoden looking at him expectantly. Sighing at being torn from his thoughts, the Dunedain rode up to the King of Rohan. "Yes, my Lord?" he asked respectfully.
"Who is the woman in the purple cloak?"
"She is not import-"
Theoden interrupted him sharply. "I saw how the elf greeted her and how she summoned fire in her hands."
Aragorn sighed and said cryptically, "She is a lady among her people."
"And who are her people?"
"Powerful."
"Is she an elf?"
"No."
"How does Gandalf seem to know her so well?"
"They have known each other for many years."
"Aragorn, who is she?"
Aragorn winced before saying carefully, "I cannot tell you without her consent."
"And why not?"
"I swore I would not," Aragorn replied simply.
oooooooooooooooooo
Later that day, Ilmare woke. She was quite surprised to find Haldir leaning over her, concern evident on his elven face. "How do you feel?" he asked in Sindarin.
"Tired," she responded bluntly. "Where is Gandalf?"
"He and the others departed for Isengard early this morning."
"Isengard?"
"Apparently, the ents of Fangorn destroyed all but the tower itself," Haldir said, clearly not used to the idea himself.
"So Treebeard succeeded..." she whispered speculatively.
"You knew of this?" he asked.
Ilmare nodded. "After recovering in Lothlorien, Gwaihir flew us to Fangorn. There, I had the pleasure of seeing an old friend again."
Neither spoke for several seconds, until a determined look passed over Ilmare's face. Haldir instantly recognized it. "You intend to go after them."
Ilmare smiled. "You are welcome to accompany me."
"It would be my pleasure, my Lady," Haldir said, offering his hand to help her up.
She laughed and said, "Please, just call me Ilmare. We have been through far too much for formalities."
Haldir nodded as he pulled her up. "As you wish," he said as they walked down to the stables.