A couple of days passed, but Arwen did not come to him.
Aragorn even grew sadder at that. He had hurt her when she had probably come to tell him what she really felt about him. His words might have seemed like he was refusing her love for him. And for what? For some elf's words?
Maybe Arwen was right.
Maybe he was overthinking this!
After everything he had done, why should an elf's words tell him that he toiled hard for nothing? That he was already weak on account of being a man? This Silwin, he gathered, knew nothing of men, and less than nothing of the perils of holding Isildur's Bane in one's hand. The lore passed down from generation to generation had been clear on the power of Isildur's Bane.
Even his mother had told him, "Should Isildur's Bane be found in your time, Estel, you shall not hold it for it comes with untold perils. Though your forefather, Isildur, claimed it for himself as wereguild for his losses, it doesn't belong to his heirs. It betrayed Isildur to his death, and should it come into your possession, it will betray you as well. So, heed these words, Estel, if Isildur's Bane be found, you shall find strength to steel yourself against the dark words of the Enemy, wherever that strength may be found."
So far, Isildur's Bane had not been found.
And that too worried him. He remembered too well his conversation with Lord Elrond back in Imladris before he left to travel south.
"I wonder if Isildur's Bane has been found," Estel said.
Elrond sighed. "Even if it is found, we cannot use it, Estel. Surely Gilraen has spoken to you of its perils?"
He nodded.
"Should it be found, a way must be found for it to be destroyed. I fear, Estel, that only by its destruction can the Enemy lose his full power. As long as it exists, Sauron remains. As long as it exists, Sauron can return even if we somehow manage to defeat him."
"But Isildur's Bane has not been found. Wherever it is now, we cannot find it. And, without finding it, how can we destroy it? And if it is not destroyed, Sauron endures. We don't have the strength to defeat him. We barely have the strength to hold him oFF, and every day our strength dwindles and his increases."
Elrond nodded. "And even if Isildur's Bane could be found somehow, we aren't sure how it can be destroyed save for it to be taken into the heart of Mordor. And that route... that path, Estel, has its own risks. But all this discussion is futile right now. We can only decide what to do with it if it should be found. Until then we must weather the storm as it comes."
Take Isildur's Bane to Mordor. That road required a different kind of courage. It would be a long and challenging road, and he wondered if he would have the strength to resist its dark words for so long a time. His mother had asked him to find strength wherever it could be found, but what strength was enough to battle the Enemy's influence?
Was he really weak then? Would an elf fare better if Isildur's Bane would be given into his hands?
The flaps of his tent ruffled, and he turned to see Arwen approach him along with four other elves, two male and two female.
Oh, it was such a bliss seeing her again! For a time, he thought he had hurt her, and she had become angry with him.
And who were these elves with her?
The elves bowed to him as he did the same to them.
"Arwen!" he called out her name. "I thought you were..."
Arwen raised her hands, at which he fell quiet.
Perhaps she didn't wish to give the elves any indication what had happened between them. Mayhap she was not ready to make public whatever choice she had made.
"This is Vanir, Bregathan, Ellasiel, and Aerin," she introduced the four elves.
"I'm..."
"Estel, we know," the elf named Vanir said. "I was there on the borders when you fought the orcs and were injured. I took care of you while you fought the poison of Morgulduin."
"Poison of Morgulduin?" he asked, confused.
"Yes," Vanir said. "Morgulduin... well, it is the river that flows out of the Morgul Vale. While the part of the river that flows in what's known as Ithilien isn't as poisonous, it is still poison. And the concentration of this poison lies at its springs, which are quite close to the city of Minas Morgul. This poison comes from the taint brought about by the Nazgul, so Lady Galadriel tells me."
"And I fought it?"
"Yes, Estel... the orcs have been binding these poisonous waters on their weapons, a poison more potent than anything they could invent. Such a poison is difficult to heal too. Even our medicine finds it difficult to fight such a poison because with time even our arts and knowledge from the yesteryear fade away, it seems. But we have surmised that to fight this poison, a patient needs to have tremendous willpower in order to assist our medicines and ointments. Of course, it is needed in other cases as well, but in this case, apparently more necessary."
"And you seem to know more about medicines..."
"I'm a healer here, Estel, and it is my job to understand the crafts the Enemy employs, so I can develop more potent medicines to counter them. It was a good thing you landed in Lothlorien when you did. I doubt you could have been healed of this poison anywhere else save here and in Imladris."
"Well, thank you then for healing me, Vanir," he said.
"Your gratitude is accepted, Dunadan, but our songs sing much of your deeds these days. Seldom do we people of Lorien venture out of our own lands, estranged as we are from the people outside by our own designs. Only a few seek the adventures into realms held by others, and that only to seek word of the Enemy. But much of what the Enemy does is already known to the Lady of the Light. There's very little that escapes her notice. So, tell us, Dunadan, what the outside world is like and where have you journeyed. For only with your eyes, I fear, we shall see the world outside until a time comes when we are free to set foot on the road westward."
And so he continued on tales of Rohan and Eriador and describing the desolate lands of Minhiriath. He then went about his journeys in South Gondor and Harad where he said he found the stars to be strange. He spoke of his assault on Umbar and the destruction of the Enemy's fleet, freeing Gondor from the threat of a naval attack by their arch-enemies.
Morning turned to noon and noon turned to evening. By the time he was done, Vanir and the other three elves stared at him in awe. Arwen was smiling and looked happy.
"Such strength in a man!" Bregathan remarked. "I didn't know that a mortal could pose as much threat to Sauron as an elf would. I thought Sauron hated us elves on principle, but his hatred for you has made him reveal his armies to Middle Earth sooner than he planned, I think. You definitely have ruffled his feathers."
The two other elves sang his praises too.
"Estel setting fire to the Morgul Vale," Vanir laughed, "that would be a song to be sung at the fireside for ages. Why, Estel, you're almost like Beren of our Age."
"Maybe next time you'll set fire to the Dark Tower itself!" Aerin remarked, laughing harder. "That would be even more beautiful song."
He couldn't help but smile. Some elves were indeed still over-merry.
When all was said and done, the four elves stood up and took his leave. One by one, they left the tent.
Arwen remained behind. "See, many elves don't consider you as a weakness, Estel. There are elves who sing praises of you. Maybe staying cooped up inside this tent does your healing no good. Tomorrow, Estel, you shall come with me and meet with the others. Come outside, and take part in our festivities."
"Festivities?" he inquired.
"Yes, my grandmother has decided to hold a celebratory feast in the light of your victories in the south."
"That was very generous of the White Lady," he said. "She really didn't have to do this."
Arwen smiled. "She did, Aragorn," she said. "The feast is in your honor. And that honor is something you deserve. Even my grandmother deems you strong enough and thinks you have proved yourself to her and the lords and the ladies of the elves. By your deeds alone you have impressed upon them that you are as much an elf-friend as Isildur or Elendil. Why then do you stay here, thinking upon the words of a few who think you weak. They think you weak because they do not know you and deny your strength altogether. Their hurt and anger blinds them so. So, my dear Estel, worry not of Silwin and the others. You have already proven yourself. Already showed the world what you are."
He nodded. "Perhaps you're right, Arwen," he said. "I shall come to the feast tomorrow eve."
Arwen laughed. "No, my lord Dunadan, you shall come with me tomorrow morning, and I shall show you the wonders of the Golden Wood. My grandparents have given me leave to show you around, and this way you shall meet many others who want to speak with you."
He smiled. "So am I to be paraded among your kind like a trophy, my lady Evenstar?"
"No, my lord Dunadan, you shall be paraded among my kind because you are the hope of the Free Peoples. It is time for you to cast aside the Ranger and grow into who you were born to be."
She smiled again and walked out of his tent.
He watched her leave until she disappeared around the bend, heading up the stairway that led to her quarters.
"I would suggest you take your perverse eyes away from one of our kind," a voice growled in the dark.
He turned and found Silwin staring at him. There was hatred and contempt in his eyes. Maybe a tinge of jealousy.
Silwin took a few steps forward coming into the light. "The Lady Arwen might not see your weakness that's plain to our sight, but we won't have you taking advantage of her innocence. She's the Luthien of our people in this age of the world, but you're no Beren, no matter what that Vanir or Bregathan tells you. So, I will warn you now, Dunadan, to stay away from the elves, especially Lady Arwen, unless you wish to meet a more gruesome fate than what orcs could give you."
"Is that a threat, Lord Silwin?" he asked. "Are you threatening me, a guest of Lothlorien, so openly? Is this the courtesy of the elves I've so heard so much about?"
"Our courtesies are for those deserving, not for you, Dunadan, especially not when I see the look in your eyes when you and Lady Arwen are together. Stay away, Dunadan, if you care for your best interests."
"The Lady Arwen chooses for herself what's best for her, Lord Silwin, and you have no say in that matter, no more than I. If I were to guess, I'd say you like the Lady Arwen yourself, and right now, the green of envy creeps in your heart, amplifying the hatred you already bear for me. So, I warn you, elf-lord of Lorien, to not let hate blind you enough that you forego all regard for the rules the Lord and the Lady of Lorien make. You know what happened to Saeros when he attacked Turin Turambar needlessly. He suffered such a tragic fate because he threw aside all courtesies. I sincerely hope you do not make the same mistake as him."
Silwin threw him an haughty stare and walked away in anger.
He grunted and went back inside.
Back in his tent, he wondered if he had done right by standing up to him. His last words had been threatening enough. He shouldn't have reminded him of Saeros and his attack on Turin. He had spoken out in anger and rashly so.
Sighing, he relaxed on the bed, telling himself that he needed to keep his temper in check and ignore Silwin and his cliché further on out.