"Do not give up, Aragorn," a voice muttered in his head.
He recognized the voice. It belonged to one of the elven twins. Elladan or Elrohir, he could not tell. They both had the same voice. Many could not tell each other apart. He, however, had learned much in his time at Rivendell and had journeyed with the twins.
Had he returned to Rivendell so early? The last thing he remembered was fighting orcs on the borders of the Golden Wood? He didn't remember making his journey here.
"Do not give up, Aragorn," muttered another voice.
He recognized this one as well. It was Elrond this time. His foster-father who had raised him with love and care as he would have his half-elven progeny.
Yes, he was in Rivendell, he told himself.
"Do not give up, Aragorn," another voice said.
He smiled and turned in his bed.
"Arwen!" he cried. "Evenstar, what're you doing here? I thought you had returned to Lothlorien."
Arwen, the one he had loved from afar, the one who he had met in the forest glades of Imladris thinking she was Luthien Tinuviel, came into sight and smiled at him. She cupped his face and repeated, "Do not give up, Aragorn."
He frowned.
Why were they repeating the same thing?
He turned again, and this time, he felt a pain surge through his arm. He felt with his hands a stitched wound and then he remembered what had happened on the eaves of the Golden Wood. An orc had scratched him, and poison flooded through his veins.
He did not feel the vileness of the poison now. Someone had taken it out and attempted to heal him. He could feel the medicine–elvish perhaps-affecting his body, healing it. But the residue of the orc-poison remained, eating at his will, at his strength.
His muscles and bones seemed to be on fire.
Though the elvish medicine produced a calming effect, the fire of Mordor vied with it for mastery.
His will to survive was ebbing. And Arwen's face grew more distant by the second.
"Do not give up, Aragorn," Arwen said, this time her voice faint.
The light in his eyes seemed to fade, darkness covering every inch of his sight, making him drown in a sea of shadows.
"Please...," he could hear Arwen pleading from a distance. "Don't give up. For our sake, stay alive. Fight, Aragorn." The last sentence reached him as a loud bellow.
And her words churned in him a great strength. He willed himself to master the darkness, to drive out the shadows, and welcome back the light. He struggled against the residual vileness, quelling the fire, driving out the poison's effects. As his will to survive increased, the elvish medicine quickened its attack on the evil taint, and soon, the medicine healed him of the poison completely. And when the evil taint vaporized, everything calmed down, and he drifted into sleep yet again.
When he woke up next, it was morning. He was in a green tent. Two elves stood guard beside him, and yet their livery was strange. They bore not the emblems of Imladris, but rather the sigils of the Golden Wood.
He stirred as he awoke and moaned as he moved.
The wound on his arm still ached.
One of the elves noticed his movements and ran out of the tent, screaming something in elvish. He could hardly make out what he said. Even though he had learned much elvish, he knew there were different forms of it.
He found his breathing was back to normal. He sighed in relief.
The elf who had run off returned with a golden-haired elf, the same who had led his rescue.
"I am Haldir, Marchwarden of the Golden Wood," the elf introduced himself. "How are you feeling?"
"Better... I'm feeling better," he replied.
"I've given you my name. It's only common courtesy to give me yours."
"Oh yes!" he remarked, suddenly remembering his folly. He tried to sit up, but the pressure he put on his arm made the pain surge up again. His face twitched in response, and a groan left his throat. "Sorry, I almost forgot... I'm called Estel by most."
"Estel?" Haldir asked with brows furrowed. "That's strange... you're a mortal and yet you have an elvish name. Are you an elf-friend by any chance?"
He nodded. "I was raised in Imladris, have grown up among the elves. Tutored by Lord Elrond and Lord Glorfindel themselves though there have been other tutors."
"Another oddity," Haldir mumbled. "A mortal trained by elven lords. Who're you really?"
At that, he kept quiet. "I cannot tell you more, Haldir of Lothlorien. Suffice to know that I'm Estel and have grown up among your kindred to the west."
"But I've to know in order to judge. As per our decrees, no mortal may cross into the borders of the Golden Wood. You also have come hither, pursued by orcs who have almost hunted you to this land. I have to ensure that no further danger besets this realm. If you do not have the favor of those who rule this country, I cannot suffer you to pass."
He nodded, understanding Haldir's predicament, and yet he could not tell them exactly who he was.
"I've to get to Imladris, Haldir," he said. "The safest route for me is to pass through this land and then onto the Redhorn Pass. Going around is a long route and I know not how many orcs lie in the shadows, awaiting me to come out of this land. Passing through this place will grant me a head start."
"Even if I were to allow it, it is beyond my powers to grant you this request, Estel of Imladris. But if I know more of why the orcs pursued you, I could perhaps send word to Caras Galadhon and know the wishes of the Lord and the Lady."
That seemed to be a reasonable request. "Well, Lord Elrond wanted me to learn the arts and culture of the southern kingdoms, and also to understand the thought processes of their kings and stewards. So, a decade or so ago, I made the journey south after wandering many a land in this Middle Earth. In the beginning, I served the Lord of the Mark, King Thengel of the Rohirrim, where I first took the name Thorongil."
At his mention of Thorongil, Haldir's eyes brightened. It was evident that he at least had heard of his deeds in the south.
"I served Thengel for a few years and saved Rohan from attacks that came out of both east and the west, though the attacks from the west confused me. The western attacks mostly comprised of strange men I had often seen in Dunland, though I had never thought they would organize themselves into little armies and strike at the heart of Rohan. The attacks from the east came from Mordor, though they were not really come to war. Mordor orcs had begun to cross the Anduin in secret. I would surmise that they crossed the river somewhere north of Sarn Gebir and traveled on foot with great speed. I interrogated a few and found out that the orcs were commanded to occupy the western passes. I led a company of the Rohirrim and freed their northern fiefs from the tyranny and pillage of the orcs. And soon the orcs refused to take this route. The attacks on Rohan stopped."
Haldir nodded, taking in every word he spoke. Admiration grew inside the golden-haired elf. He wished it did not.
"My actions had King Thengel promote me to the highest rank one could obtain in the Mark save that of the King and his heir. And then, as Rohan was secured, time came for me to leave. Loathe was the King to grant me leave, but I insisted that it was for the good of the West. From there, I made the journey to Gondor and enlisted in the armies of Minas Tirith."
He sipped water from a cup of tea, preventing any more symptoms of a dry throat. The elvish medicine made him want to take more draughts of water.
"There I took part in many a raid and earned the favor of Ecthelion, the Steward of Gondor, and he kept me close. We discussed Sauron and his activities in Mordor, the marching of the Haradrim and the gathering of orcs in Gorgoroth. I tried to get close to his son, Denethor, too, but he was a little distant. He suspected me... mostly, jealous perhaps, I think, that his father valued my suggestions over his. And then many months into my service in Gondor, I came upon a news. Umbar, the old enemy of Gondor, was building a naval force. A foresight was upon me then. If Umbar was allowed to build its naval force, Gondor would be hard beset in the days to come. So I asked Ecthelion to give me a token of Gondor's naval force, few as it was, but he hesitated for a long time. Even Denethor counseled against it, but finally I managed to convince him that I was right."
"That must have been a challenge," Haldir observed. "I've heard much of the pride of the lords of Gondor."
"Ecthelion was anything but proud. He was wise, and yet Denethor was wiser, I observed. He knew my course of action was the right one to take. That was something he would have undertaken as well, but it was jealousy that made him oppose my counsels."
Haldir nodded, understanding what the man had said.
"After I got the Steward's permission, I took a small force from the havens of Pelargir and launched an assault on the ports of Umbar. With minimal loss, I destroyed their entire fleet. Now, it would take them a lot of time to build back what they have lost."
"Admirable!" Haldir remarked. "Such deeds at so young an age... remarkable!"
"I wouldn't be considered young by men... I am fifty years or so now."
"And yet you're young in our eyes," Haldir laughed.
"Agreed... once the Umbar's fleet was destroyed, we returned in victory to Pelargir, but I had decided to leave eastward. The men of Gondor were sad that I had to leave. They pestered me to return to Gondor, but I couldn't. Something told me that it was not the right time for me to settle in Gondor no matter how much I look it. I had begun to miss my home in the North. But something told me to go east–a voice from the sea. And so I went to the lands of Harad where the stars were strange."
"The orc I interrogated said you set fire to the Morgul Vale," Haldir said.
He nodded. "Aye, I did that on my return journey. I made my way north through Ithilien, and I took a sneak peek into the Morgul Vale. So repulsed I was that I wished to destroy it. Foolishness or not, I set a fire to it instead, and ever since, orcs have pursued me hither to the Golden Wood. And that, Haldir, Marchwarden of Lothlorien, is my story."
"This ought to gain the Lady's favor," Haldir said. "Surely, if what you say is the truth, the Lady would have heard of your deeds. It's said that she has the farsight and can look hard and deep into the hearts of the Free Peoples. Maybe she has already perceived your coming here. Maybe that's the reason why I was asked to patrol the eastern borders, though I apologize for our delay in coming. The darkness to our north troubles me deeply, and I was loath to leave our northern marches."
"The evil fortress of Dol Guldur," he mouthed and sighed. "That fortress has long troubled us in the north. Even before my birth, it sent forces into Eriador looking for us Dunedain and hunting us. In the beginning, it was thought to be one of the Nazgul, but it turned out to be Sauron taking shape again, looking once more for Isildur's Bane. I had thought the fortress emptied after Sauron surrendered it and fled to Barad-dur."
Haldir shook his head. "Nay, Estel, the tower has been occupied again of late. We elves of Lorien have ever stood in its sight. Across the river, we can hear the shrieks of the orcs and the howling of wargs. We sense a lot more evil there than before. Sauron has returned to Dol Guldur, and it is from there that he will wage war on us elves. And, still, here in the Golden Wood, we will weather the storm. For the Lady strives ever with the dark thoughts and can somehow glean its mind. But enough with talks about the Shadow. You must rest, Estel. You need to get your strength back if you are to make your journey forward. I'll send word now to Caras Galadhon and discern of them their leaning."
He thanked Haldir and drifted off into sleep while Haldir sneaked out of the tent and shouted for Orophin.