Chapter Thirteen: At the Stables

Elladan and Aragorn sang a silly song as they made their way to the stables. Each of the phrases was broken off with a different whoop, scattering what little sense they had made and sending the two into fits of laughter. The morning was so fine, the tintillating days of Rivendell autumns. They stopped midway across the bridge to watch the curling foam and throw sticks into the rushing water. Aragorn would fling his bit of wood far upstream with all his strength, then race to the opposite side of the bridge in time to see his play-craft swept away to faraway places. "My chip-ship! My chip-ship!" he called, "Farewell! Safe journey!"

It seemed to Elladan that this game could go on for hours. The humor was simple and free, the moment itself a bridge… between lives, he thought. It was very good that the boy was sharing this game with the water, always a sure medium for tracing into the threads of protecting powers. Though of mortal kind and far-removed, he was a son of Melian; and if his spirit chose to seek her, or call her near, the water was a good place to start. Melian would probably not, but surely some child of Ulmo would venture into subtle speech with this bright boy. Already he was intent and open to the sparkling flow arising from the tumbled surface of the stream; Elladan perceived this, and a wish filled his heart for the vigor to settle into the boy's marrow and keep for the hard days to come. Hard days, hard moments. They could happen soon.

Elladan shook his head, and suddenly Aragorn was laughing at him and pulling at his hand. "Cousin, cousin, your head in the clouds! Come!" he leaned away to move the tall elf into his wake. "Rogarin is waiting, and— what is the name of your fine big horse, Elladan my cousin my friend?"

"Tchaiyen. His name is Tchaiyen," the elf answered. "Do you know that word?"

"No-o-o," said the child, wagging his head seriously. "What is it?"

"An old word from far away," Elladan lowered his voice to a whisper. "So they call the smoky crystal cast from the fiery hearts of mountains that tremble… far, far away."

"Mountains that tremble?" Aragorn opened his eyes wide. "I do not know…" He shook his head again and turned his face to the tall peaks above them. "Mountains are very strong, cousin." He pondered in silence as they made for the flagstone path to the stables. "Tchaiyen… crystal from a fire-mountain… That is wonderful, cousin!" Aragorn chirped suddenly. "A wonderful name for a fine big horse. I like it."

Elladan laughed, and swung the boy around him with a stream of crazy bird calls that set all the true feathered creatures chattering angrily. The two, merrily chastised, subdued their noisemaking and pretended to flee from a flock of huge, fierce birds. The game dwindled away, and Elladan said in a dreamy voice, "We will go one day to the faraway land of the trembling mountains, Aragorn. You and I and Elrohir."

"Oh, yes!" the boy's eyes glowed. "Of course Elrohir will come. To the faraway land."

"We must ride on a boat, over the big waters," said Elladan. "Would you like that?"

"A boat?" the child puzzled.

"A chip-ship like your chip-ships, but very, very big," the elf laughed as an incredulous look came over his little kinsman's face. "Very big chip-ship. Big as a house."

"Big as a house?" crowed Little Aragorn. "A chip-ship?"

"Yes indeed," said Elladan.

The child marched on in silence, digesting this amazing image. There are many great and good things, he decided, and took up the whistling game from the evening past. "The big waters," he stopped suddenly. "What big waters? What is that?" His eyes became solemn, their grayness smoky as Tchaiyen.

"Yes, the big waters…" Elladan mused. "We must speak of the big waters one day."

"Not this day?"

"Not this day, for we have much to do with our horse-friends, and then we must go fishing, and for that we must think not of big waters but of these small, quick waters. Do you understand this, little cousin?" the elf searched the boy's face again.

"Ye-e-es," he said. "Head and hands together, says Dada always. Eyes and work together, step awake and step alert," he slipped into an easy singsong. His tall cousin felt his insides quail, shocked to suddenly remember that he had forgotten. So drawn into the task of sustaining the boy, he had separated the painful cause of it all. Now the stream of hurting pictures seemed to overwhelm him.

The child's voice trickled in as he swung his cousin's arm back and forth. "…awake and alert, not step in a hole…" he laughed as he mimicked a stray-minded passerby. With an effort, the elf pulled himself into the moment and reached for the light mood they had brought from the bridge. They walked on.

"Here now, the stables," Elladan whistled three sharp notes. An answering whinny came from within, and a general rustle of curious animals. As the pair entered, a new whinny came from Tchaiyen, bright and happy, and an anxious trumpeting from the far stall in which they had bedded Rogarin the night before. Other horses stamped and nickered, busy-bodies all as they watched the big one and the little one coming down the passage. Elladan stopped a moment to stroke his gray and whisper in his ear, then followed Little Aragorn to the far end of the building.

The child was already fondling the big head thrust over the stall door. "Good, good morning, Rogarin," he said happily, "How are you? Did you sleep well?" He pulled from his pocket a morsel of apple-tart. "For you," he whispered, and patted the big cheek as the horse munched the dainty. "No, no more now," he said, "but later, yes." Rogarin snuffled the boy's pockets, just to make sure.

"Place this soft rope around his neck," said Elladan. He made a loop in a silky tether, loose-woven, and handed it to Aragorn. The child marveled at the lights glimmering between the threads.

"Many colors in the rope, cousin," he said. "Very beautiful." He slipped it over Rogarin's ears and pulled it only so, leaving the horse no feeling of restraint.

"That is right, slack enough that he feels only a caress," instructed the elf.

"Caress, cousin? I don't know…" the child seemed perplexed.

"A loving touch, little one. Like so." Elladan stroked the boy's arm lightly and yet warmly, and through the barely pressing fingers a soft radiant charge seemed to flow. "I am your friend. Do you feel this from me through my touch?"

"Yes," whispered the boy.

"You must do so to Rogarin, and make him know always that you are his friend," the elf said seriously. There was more to this lesson than horse-handling, he thought, but what better way to begin. "We shall take him out now, and let him run a bit."

"There is ploop here," observed Little Aragorn. "Must we take it out?" He seemed to hope for an answer in the negative, and Elladan bit his lip to keep from smiling.

"We will do that later. Now let us take him out to see Arien." He led the way down another passage, and coming through a wide doorway Aragorn was dazzled by yet one more magnificent view of the valleys of Imladris. "Down here, little cousin. This way. Lead him through that small gate, and release him. Take off the rope," he added, as a puzzled look came over the boy's face. Elladan climbed onto the stone wall encircling a large field.

Aragorn did as he was told, and spoke to the horse quietly. "Run and play, my friend Rogarin. I am here." He backed away. "Now go!" The horse whinnied, shook his great frame and leapt away, bucking and galloping. Elladan reached a hand down to help the boy up on to the wall.

They sat in silence for a long while, watching the horse. "He seems to be well, in body and in heart," said the elf. "But Elrohir will have to speak with him later. And we must make a special saddle, for when you ride him alone."

"A saddle?" wondered the boy. "What saddle, what special?"

"Rogarin is a big horse. Not a pony for a small child. He needs to feel the weight of a rider… do you know this word?" Elladan searched the boy's eyes. "Weight, heavy, like this…" he took up a lonely rock and handed it to Aragorn. The child took it with both hands, and Elladan pulled one away. "Feel with one hand," he said. "Heavy, yes?"

"Yes, heavy."

"So Rogarin must feel this, heavy, on his back when you pull his reins or when you place your hands on his neck. He must feel balance. Do you know balance?"

Little Aragorn brightened up. "Yes!" he shouted, leaping to his feet and raising one leg high. "Balance!" he said happily. His posture was remarkably steady, even on the rough high surface. "And balance!" he took up a long twig and set it upright on the palm of his hand. He barely moved, yet kept the twig standing.

"Very good!" Elladan laughed, applauding the feat. "You are very clever, little cousin." He tousled the boy's hair, then continued his reasoning. "There is another balance. Look at me."

The elf took up another rock, smaller than the first, and placed one in either of the child's hands. He placed his own palms under them, and through his touch made the small hands relax and take on a slight, flowing movement, with which to gauge the weight in each hand. "More weight," he said, allowing a dipping motion, "and less." He repeated the comparison, and the relation became clear to the boy.

"More heavy, this…" he said firmly.

"And now…" Elladan took up another small rock and added it to the second, and once again went through the gauging process. "How is it, now?" he asked.

The boy dipped his burdens alternately, and said finally, "Not more heavy…"

"The same. The one, and the two."

"Yes," said the child.

"That is balance also, little cousin. The same, the one and the two." This digested, he turned and whistled to Rogarin. Far down the field, the horse pricked up his ears and turned to come towards them. The two jumped down from the wall and met him as he came up. They stroked him, and Elladan continued. "Balance. Rogarin needs to feel it. The same… the one—" he mimicked a bridle rein pulling at the horse's mouth, "and the two…" he pressed down on the high withers, then patted the back.

"The one… and the two…" Aragorn gestured with one hand and the other.

"Balance."

"Balance," echoed the boy. "Yes." He stroked the great body, exploring.

"So the saddle," Elladan continued. "We must make you a saddle with more weight, and as you grow larger and heavier we will take some out, until…" he trickled off, realizing the boy was far away. "Aragorn…" he said softly.

The child turned to him, his gray eyes dark. "Dada," he said. "Where is Dada?"