Chapter Nine: My Chair… I Like It
Little Aragorn came along the gallery with Elladan, his small hand in the tall elf's, taking leaps for every step and pursing his lips to whistle answers back to his cousin's trilling bits of melody. As they were leading their mounts to the stables the twin had begun a teasing game with the child, whistling catchy fragments and breaking them off, in an implied invitation for a response to round out the phrase. The little boy's quick musical ear had awakened at once and he laughed, forcing the air through his lips first in imitation of the elf's tune and then with echoing variations that grew in volume as he soon caught on to the artful workings of tongue and lips.
Night had fallen when they reached the stables, and each horse was taken to a small enclosure of its own. Dry straw covered the floor, and fresh fodder lay in the mangers with buckets of clean water on the side; the warm smell of home for some, haven for others. Rogarin sniffed at the feed and accepted water from the bucket at Aragorn's urging, swallowing long and deep while the boy stroked the strong-muscled neck. Elladan stepped out for a moment and returned with a tidbit. He gave it to Aragorn and said, "He must eat this. It will help him rest."
The child brought the medicinal tidbit to the horse's lips and said, "Eat, my pony-horse. It is good." The animal took the soft morsels and nickered. He raised his head high and looked about, trembling at intervals and shifting nervously. After the long, hard ride and the pressing feeling about him all the while, there was finally a sense of peace. Rogarin smelled many horses, some he knew from birth, others that had been with him in the grueling gallop to Rivendell, and others that were new and strange to him. Mares, he sensed, and other stallions, but there was not a challenge or even a warning whinny.
"These are peaceful horses, my good friend," said Elladan to the inquiring animal, patting his neck and stroking his ears. "Come the morrow, you will meet them more closely in the wide pastures."
"Tomorrow?" asked Aragorn. "Tomorrow we ride again?"
"Are you still wanting to ride, little eagle?" laughed Elladan. "No, tomorrow Rogarin and all the horses will rest. They have worked very hard today, and now we must take care of them. Come. We, too, must rest." He guided the boy out of the enclosure and fastened the slatted half-door.
"I am not tired," said the boy.
Elladan laughed again, harder. "What a boy!" he said, shaking his head. "You have not a notion of how tired you are. But we all must rest, so that tomorrow we can do all the things we have to do."
"What things?" He placed his small hand in Elladan's, and hopped along on one foot beside the elf's long paces.
"Many things. Tomorrow we will come and see our horses again, you must come to Rogarin and examine him carefully, his legs, his mouth… see if he has bruises or cuts or scrapes, and heal them. Rub him, brush his coat, comb his mane and tail… There are many things we must do for our horses. I will show you, and help you with some things because you are still so very small."
"Thank you, cousin," said the little boy seriously.
Elladan sensed a sadness rising to engulf the child, and quickly swung him up to a stonework banister looking out over the river, spilling and foaming over shiny rocks. "And we will go fishing tomorrow, as well," he said. "Down there, that way, the river falls into a deep pool. There are fish, big, fat ones, good to eat. Will you help me catch some for our dinner?"
"Yes!" cried Aragorn. "I like fish!" He frowned. "But fish don't come to me. Only to Dada." Elladan felt a stab of alarm, and forced down his own agitation. He swung the boy away from the banister and took up the whistling game again. He trilled a phrase much like the morning larks' song, and the child laughed and fluted out an unsteady answer, not entirely out of tune.
The whistling game, not a match so much as a dialogue, served them as conversation as they climbed to the gallery and crossed high over the wide garden terrace. They were in sight of the door to the great entrance hall when Elladan suddenly raised his whistle to signal his brother of their arrival.
"Wait!" shrieked the child excitedly. "I cannot whistle that! Wait! Show me…" He dug in his heels and poised himself as if to leap from a great height. The elf nearly choked laughing, and could not shape his mouth to whistle. "Come!" the boy insisted with passion, "show me!"
Elladan finally managed to reprise the bit of melody, once, and then again slowly, with emphasis on each whistled note. On a third time around, the child echoed each note studiedly. They finished, and as a happy look came over little Aragorn's face, an answer suddenly trilled forth from the doorway.
"What!" exclaimed the boy. "There is more bird-song?" He turned and saw Elrohir pursing his lips to whistle again, then quickly lisp-whistled the bit of tune he had just acquired… in time for the twin's answering part. He jumped gleefully from one foot to the other, whistling another bit much like a marching-round. The twins joined in laughter and each took one of the child's hands, swinging him high back and forth.
"He never tires," said Elladan. "He will suddenly drop, I deem, when the last bit of fire sparks out." His mien abruptly came serious. "Is Ada within?"
"Yes, and Glorfindel. We were waiting for you both to come, so we may break bread," said Elrohir. "Are you hungry, little cousin?"
"I am!" he shouted, "hungry, hungry, hungry! I want to eat very much…" he amended shyly, as half-remembered manners finally emerged. "Thank you."
"Come, then, quickly. There is water here for washing your hands and face," smiled Elrohir, leading him to a large bowl of scented water by the doorway. His brother winked at him over the boy's head, and they kept straight faces hardily as the little one frowned and muttered inaudibly.
All washed up, the three went into the Hall of Fire. Aragorn stopped and took in the scene, the intimate circle at the fireside within the imposing height and breadth of the hall. It seemed to go on forever, into the full darkness, and he moved close to Elladan.
"Welcome, little kinsman," said Elrond gently. "Come. There is a seat for you close by the fire. Come and warm yourself." He did not rise from his deep chair, not wanting to overwhelm the child with yet another tall stranger looming above. But he leaned forward and smiled, and tended a hand towards him. "See? Here is your chair." He patted the small, sturdy armchair and plumped up the cushions.
"A little chair. Your chairs are big," said the child attentively as he approached the circle and examined the seat intended for him. He poked the padding and shook the headrest, then suddenly leaped over the arm with a whoop, landing in the seat and settling among the cushions happily, while the twins took their seats as well. "My chair!" he laughed. "I like it!"
"And food, little one," said Glorfindel merrily. "We heard you were hungry."
"Oh, yes, I am," said the boy, opening his eyes wide. "Very, very hungry!"
"Then let us see what we have here," said the elf leaning over the laden table. The firelight glinted on his golden hair, and the metal covers glittered as he removed them from the platters. Aragorn blinked and sniffed as pleasant mixed aromas reached his nostrils. "Meat, first?" he took a plate and served a portion he reckoned would suit the boy for starters.
Elrond took the plate and passed it to the child, while Glorfindel piled plates for them all. Little Aragorn took his and put it on his lap, gazing at the fine piece of roast with savory sauce. His fingers twitched anxiously, but he looked up at his tall kinsmen and said seriously, "We wait for all of us to start together, Momo says."
"She is quite right," smiled Elrond. "We share our food with our loved ones, our good friends, and we wait to eat together." He closed his eyes for a moment, and holding his hands over his plate he let flow a chanted phrase of thanks. The boy looked at him curiously, drawn by the warm feeling he emanated. The elf-lord opened his eyes and smiled at the child again. "Well, shall we begin?"
"Yes," whispered Aragorn. They all dug in, and for a while only the sounds of a good meal being dispatched seemed to fill the hall. Bread and fruit came and went, cheese and cream, honey, and a refreshing brew to make it all settle peacefully.
As the final satisfied sigh came from the small boy, his head seemed to nod and his little frame crumpled forward. Elrond took him up and held him close for a while, rocking and humming softly, then rose and carried the small sleeping burden to his own chamber. The special meal was over: their first of many to come, but no further word of this was spoken that night.