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Chapter 3
The ranger awoke to loud knocks on a wooden door. Where was he? Everything was foggy. He was hearing muffled voices and his eyelids felt far too heavy. It took him a moment before he could keep them opened, but his sight was blurred, so he continued to blink until his surroundings became clearer.
He was laying on a straw mattress on the floor of a wooden cabin and before him stood two elves who gestured to him a greeting when they saw his sticky eyes eventually fixed on them. He recognised Gladhîn, who was holding a tray in the crook of their arm, and the elf with the dark curly hair that had brought the mattress the night before.
"Well met," he heard the elf whom he still did not know the name say.
"What hour is it?" the ranger asked in a weak hoarse voice while trying to untangle himself from the blanket so he could sit.
"Midday one hour away," she answered. She had a very thick accent and spoke a broken sindarin. "Sorry disrupt you rest. Me name Ferhavi."
She did not sound apologetic, but Gladhîn definitely appeared so. Anyway, it seemed he had slept far too much into the day, he could not therefore begrudge them for waking him up.
"Creature awake and comrades try feed them, but creature refuse all food."
"Yes," confirmed Aragorn. "He does not eat anything cooked, baked or fermented. He eats raw meat but he especially likes raw fish. He tolerates some kinds of fruits or berries, but I could not tell you which ones."
Gladhîn signed something in reply, smiling.
"Thank you," translated the other elf. Aragorn nodded. Gladhîn then leant forward to lay a tray of food before him. There was bread, cheese and berries, but also a bowl of some sort of porridge that the ranger could not wait to try. He did not have time to thank the mute elf before their comrade spoke again.
"Gladhîn take you clothes last night and wash them and dry them," she said mentioning with her chin to what she was holding on her arm. The ranger frowned then turned his head to the place he had laid his damped clothes the night before, but they were indeed not there anymore. He had not noticed that the elf had taken them, but he was pleased, for he did not remember the last time he had put clean clothes on.
"Thank you," he said to the elves, bringing his hand to his heart. He did not know if this gesture had the same meaning for them than in the west, but Gladhîn smiled while the other elf nodded, so surely they understood.
The curly haired elf approached then to lay the newly washed clothes on the wheat sacks, then turned to leave the cabin after sliding her fingers from her forehead to her chin in the now familiar greeting gesture. Gladhîn then did the same after waiting a moment to see whether Aragorn had any demands or questions, then left closing the door behind them softly.
It was not as dark as it had been the night before, for light entered the cabin through slits in the wood, but there was no window and no candle.
Still wrapped in the blanket, Aragorn pulled the tray to him, and noticing the porridge was still warm, started eating slowly. He could not eat everything Gladhîn had brought because even though he had been hungry, he was no longer used to eat much and his stomach could not take more than a few spoons and a handful of berries.
Then, as he was swallowing his last mouthful, he startled, for cries came to his ears in a sudden occurrence. It sounded far and subdued, but he knew from the start whom it came from and he hated it. The cries continued for a long and uneasy moment before coming to an end.
But they came anew several times in the day, when Aragorn got up to get dressed, or when he sat again to wait for anything to happen, pondering how long he would have to stay confined in this cabin. The smell of the wheat was becoming appalling to him and he yearned to see the sun, as he had stayed in the dark for nearly two days already.
Gladhîn regularly visited him throughout the day, bringing him anything he could have needed, water, food and light. Sometimes, they stayed for a moment, so the ranger enquired to them about their tasks as a marchwarden. They answered in signs or by mimicking actions and tried to also question him, but Aragorn could not decipher the meaning of their gestures.
He was trying to guess what the elf was asking him when Melroch entered the cabin. The ranger had not seen the captain since the night before and it was now already dark outside, the cabin being only lit by a single candle.
"They are wondering whether you have already met Hobbits," he explained with a soft smile on his scarred face.
He brought his hand to his forehead to greet the ranger and this time Aragorn clumsily tried to mimic him, which made the captain rise an eyebrow and grin. He had also changed into clean clothes and now wore his dark hair free of adornments when they had been tightly braided the day before.
"So, have you met them?"
"Well, one of the tasks of my people is to guard the borders of their country, so aye, I have met Hobbits, though I rarely engage with them for they are wary of us. There is one I consider a friend though, who has been living in Imladris for some years."
Gladhîn signed something, but Melroch did not seem to understand right away, frowning. The mute elf tilted their head then repeated slowly their gestures.
"The Elf-friend?" asked Melroch. "Ah yes, they are wondering whether you are speaking of Bilbo Baggins. "
"Indeed," said Aragorn with surprise. "For a moment I forgot Bilbo had travelled through your land."
"Our people have held Bilbo Baggins in high regard since the King named him Elf-friend. His adventures are oftentimes told and sung around the bonfires or on the road. It is said our lord was profoundly aggrieved when the Hobbit chose to go back to Imladris after his last visit, although he had been offered unlimited hospitality."
"Bilbo has always spoken with fondness about your people and your King, but he is now of old age, and Imladris is a haven of peace unlike any other for those who have lived long and tortuous lives."
"He certainly deserves his peace."
Gladhîn nodded their agreement.
"Well, Dunadan," the captain resumed. "I came to check whether you had been treated well, but I see Gladhîn has provided you with whatever you might have needed. But there is something more."
He marked a pause during which the ranger eyed him quizzically.
"I have received news that might be of hope to your enquiry."
Aragorn's heart skipped a beat. He had braced himself to spend quite some time in this pitiful cabin.
"Has Mithrandir been seen?"
"Not yet. Or not to my awareness, for if he came through the western border, news would travel directly to Taurothrond."
Aragorn had learnt the day before that Taurothrond was the name of the King's halls and, by extension, of the city around it.
"But a patrol is coming back from the south tomorrow and with them someone that could help your case, as it is said that he is friend with Mithrandir and has somewhat of a connection to the King."
He smiled like he had said something witty. Aragorn wondered what 'somewhat of a connection' meant.
"Is he one of your superior?"
"Nay, he has the same grade as me, although he is from the outer defense force."
All Aragorn could do was frown, whereas Gladhîn seemed pleased, getting up from where they were sat while signing a question to Melroch. The captain nodded.
"Aye, he will be back tomorrow. But do not go bother him or his elves at their arrival. You know they need their peace when they have spent too much time beyond the old road. In addition, they battled against orcs, some of them have been heavily injured."
Melroch's face was grievous while chiding his subaltern, but became lighter when he glanced once again at the ranger.
"I cannot make you any promise. He will listen to you, that I can guarantee, but it will be up to him whether he will choose to vouch for you."
"I understand," acquiesced Aragorn.
"Then I must leave you for I need to make sure our warriors will be well taken care of when they arrive."
He saluted them then exited the cabin promptly. Gladhîn too left shortly after to go get the ranger his evening meal, but did not stay to eat with him when they came back. Aragorn guessed they went to help their captain in his tasks, for it seems the guard could not stop themself from offering their help whenever it was needed.
Aragorn fell asleep soon enough even though he had slept in late in the morning, for he had nothing else to keep him busy other than the wanderings of his mind. He was wondering where Gandalf was and when he would come. He did not think the captain that Melroch had mentioned would help him much, if he could not already convince the scarred elf.
He woke up in the deep night, when everything around him was dark, but he did not hear the songs and the laughter of the elves as he had heard the night before. It had started to rain heavily again, and there were voices calling or conducting, some far, other nearer in the settlement, all speaking the forest dialect. He did not stay awake long and the drops of rain on the cabin lulled him again to sleep after a few moments, when the voices became more and more subdued.
The next time he opened his eyes, the soft light of dawn was entering the cabin from the slits in the wood. The rain had stopped, but heavy drops were falling rhythmically on the cabin from the trees above. There were voices just behind the door that were speaking in soft tones. Moreover, he could hear the cries of Gollum coming from afar. Sitting up, he wondered how long the elves would endure before putting the creature back to sleep, as their hearing was much more sensible than his and these screeches were surely unbearable to them.
For an instant, the voices outside the cabin stopped before resuming their conversation. They must have heard him move. Aragorn decided then to get up from his mattress and stretch. It was cold in the cabin, out of the two blankets Gladhîn had brought him the day before that had kept him more than warm. He had sweat in them and would gladly wash himself. He would ask Gladhîn to bring him water later.
But now was not the time for the people behind the door eventually interrupted their discussion and knocks were hit on the door. They waited for him to answer and when he did the door opened on Melroch, as he had guessed, and he was accompanied by another elf, one who was quite taller than the captain and than most of the elves Aragorn had met the last few days, but was still a couple of inches shorter than him.
The elf's upper face and hair were hidden under the deep green hood of his cloak that was drenched from the rain. He wore a uniform of similar tones to those of the border guards, but in addition to it had a leather armour that was covering his shoulders and chest. He seemed coated by mud and had on his left arm a large stain that looked a lot like blood. He bore an unstrung bow on his back, as well as a quiver, dagger and knives at his belt.
When he entered, he did not rise his hand to his forehead like Melroch did but brought it instead to his heart with a bow of his head, as it was done in greetings in Imladris. It surprised Aragorn who stood aghast for a moment before thinking better and making the silvan gesture in return.
"Well met. I see that you have already learnt about the customs of our people," said the elf with a clear and mild voice. But what sounded strange to the ranger was that he had spoken sindarin as a native would, without any hesitation or slip up, albeit with a very distinctive accent. Aragorn did not know what to answer to that. He had not really had the occasion to learn about their customs, confined in this cabin with only a mute host to keep him company. But fortunately, Melroch spoke instead and the captain wore a knowing smile on his face.
"Dunadan, this is Legolas of the archers company, that some consider the elite of the outer defence force and thus of the King's army."
"Please, Melroch, that is untruthful, plenty of our forces are as skilled as the King's archers," answered the hooded elf, speaking as if he excluded himself from the company. Aragorn thought he saw a mild smile on his lips as he shook lightly his head but was not sure. "Now, tell me how it is that our new friend here has been kept in this dark and unpleasant cabin, without any window to let air and light enter? Even the Elvenking's halls feel less heavy."
That made Melroch chuckle.
"Well, inform me then when you finish building a suitable house for men, and I will gladly move him there."
"Indeed, Melroch, I shall go and ask the trees for some lumber, but I am unsure whether our friend will be pleased with the delaying of his petition."
"Nay, I think not. The Dunadan has been most adamant about accomplishing his task."
"It is true," spoke Aragorn for the first time. "I would rather see Gollum delivered as soon as possible to the King than have futile needs fulfilled."
He had been hesitant to interrupt the friendly banter, but both faces were turned to him, Melroch's smiling mildly while the partly hooded one appeared coyer.
"Aye, Melroch reported to me your enquiry and showed me the foul creature you brought into our realm, and which is now disturbing the rest my warriors fairly earned. But perhaps I was distracted for I did not catch your name."
The elf tilted his head sideways under his hood.
"Nay, you were not inattentive, captain. It is I who did not give a name, for only your king shall receive it."
"You speak as if you would honour him with it. It makes you sound quite arrogant, do you not think, Dunadan?"
"It may appear so, but that is not my intent. The Enemy has gained much ground during the last decades, and I have found it dangerous to put my trust into anyone, common soldier, esteemed commander or honoured lord. I was told by Mithrandir to put my trust into the Elvenking, so he alone I shall trust until either the istar or your liege advises me otherwise. But if you wish for a name to call me, I am known by many, for I travelled far. I am called Strider in the western wild, Thorongil in the southern lands, Dunadan by friends, and I was also named Estel in Imladris."
The elf did not reply and rather stared at him in silence for a moment during which they could only hear the sound of the rain drops falling on the cabin or the distant voices of elves in the settlement. Aragorn imagined the exchange was already coming to an end. They could not trust him and he could not trust them entirely, so what common ground could they find? They would leave him confined in this cabin, or anywhere they wished, and he would have to wait for Gandalf to come plead for him, if only he came.
But after a while, the hooded elf, Legolas, Aragorn reminded himself, fixed his attention on Melroch and spoke to him in a soft voice.
"Do you know whether the low talan on the old crooked oak next to mine is available? It is well covered and does not smell like a pool of wheat."
"I think it is. Will it not be of use for your injured elves?"
"They are to stay in the healing ward for the time being."
"That is settled, then. I will ask Gladhîn to prepare it."
Legolas nodded and Melroch saluted them both before exiting the cabin. Aragorn was not sure whether the elf in front of him was really concerned about his accommodation or whether it had just been a way to get the borderguard captain to leave them alone. He waited a moment to see whether the elf would also leave, but he stayed, and moreover, he glanced at the interior of the cabin and started to go deeper in than he had been, walking silently by the ranger and stopping only a few feet from him.
"I apologise," the elf then said while Aragorn was eyeing him suspiciously with a frown.
"What for? You have done nothing to wrong me, captain."
"Not idly is Estel ever offered as a name," Legolas remarked. "One must be deemed truly faithworthy to be called thus(1)."
But before Aragorn could ask what he meant by that, the elf rose his hand to the crown of his hood and, grasping it, pulled it back to finally expose his fair golden face and a pair of gentle protruding eyes of summer green leaf colour, that were however underlined by dark circles. An elf had to be truly exhausted for his skin to be marked thus. Moreover, the ranger had noticed the captain had used his right arm to take his hood off, leaving the one tainted by blood to dangle alongside him. As a healer, Aragorn could sense he was injured.
"I cannot expect you to trust me when I myself have not been faithful," the elf added. "Shall we start again?"
He marked a pause, smiling despite the deeply confused look of the ranger, before bringing his hand to his heart to greet him once more.
"Well met, Dunadan. My name is Legolas Thranduilion, and I am the captain of the outer defence archers company."
"Well met, captain,' answered Aragorn, still with a frown on his face. "Call me Estel, if it pleases you, or any way that suits you. I was told that you are acquainted with Mithrandir. Is it true?
"Indeed, I have known Mithrandir ever since I was a child. Incidentally, you might be in luck. I met some times ago with Aewellon, one of his peers, who is also called Radagast by the woodmen. He delivered to me Mithrandir's message that he was looking for a pitiful creature that may have passed through the forest, and asked me to look for it if I could. Unfortunately, the Enemy has been incessant in its attacks and I was not able to do just that, until it slipped from my mind entirely. I must say I was surprised to see that the being you brought matched quite precisely the description that was made to me."
"If Mithrandir is your friend, then you must know that his demand is dire, and that I must reach King Thr..."
He interrupted himself, eventually realising what the elf had actually disclosed to him. He had not been paying attention. Legolas Thranduilion. When Melroch had first introduced them, the name Legolas had sounded strange to his hears, as all silvan names sounded to him, so he had discarded it easily. But his father's name was more than familiar. His eyes opened wide with realisation.
"Thranduilion?" he asked dumbfounded. "You are the son of the King?"
It made the elf chuckle, tilting his head forward and letting wrinkles appear on the side of his eyes. It was the moment the sun decided to leave the cover of the clouds and enlighten the cabin with bright rays, shining on the golden toned skin of the elf, darker than most western elves'. But something else caught the ranger's eyes, and they widened as he realised that the captain might have revealed himself even before telling him his full name. Aragorn had not paid attention to it, but the elf's hair, braided tightly in a myriad of plaits, was of a fair and bright ivy honey colour. He had met only three elves with fair hair, the Lord Glorfindel of Imladris, the Lady Galadriel and Haldir of Lothlorien. He knew of only one other with such a mane in Middle Earth, for he had seen tapestries and pictures depicting him in the War of the Last Alliance, Thranduil of the Woodland Realm. It was such a rare hair colour for the elves, because it was a trait only the Vanyar people bore, who left Middle Earth ages before. It should have been an evidence.
"I am indeed," the elf answered with a mischievous smile. "Although it is not something that is usually spoken of, here in the south where the Enemy's minions could easily spy on us. However, I realised that the reason for you to conceal your identity could be the same as ours for keeping my lineage veiled. Am I in the wrong?"
The ranger did not answer right away. When Melroch had told him that someone connected to the King would come, he had not think he would meet an actual member of the royal family. Moreover, the captain had used no title and only mentioned his grade in the military, even though he no doubt knew about Legolas' link to the King. That was strange. Aragorn had met princes in Rohan or Gondor, and they had always been hailed as such, even in the presence of enemies. In Imladris too, Lord Elrond and his children were considered royalty in all but title, and thus were treated in high regard.
But he had noticed that the Mirkwood elves had an attitude more casual and informal than in Imladris and even in Lothlorien. They seemed to treat their peers as equal, be they a superior or a subaltern, and they had no reticence about making fun of their King in songs or stories, although they still seemed to respect him deeply. Thus, Aragorn wondered if the concealment of Legolas' status really was caused by fear of the Enemy.
"You are not, I suppose, er…" He let his voice trail, as he did not know how to address him. Was the elf even considered a prince for being the King's son?
"Please, call me Legolas, for I am just that, a mere woodelf among many others, as a green leaf is on a tree. I bear no title and do not wish to. But still, I am privileged as I have the King's trust, and I shall bring you to him."
Once again, Aragorn thought he had misheard and found himself flabbergasted. He definitely had never met any lord or king's son as humble, and this one was furthermore putting his trust in him, which seemed unbelievable in those circumstances.
"You would vouch for me?" he asked with wide eyes.
"Indeed. I told you of the message I got from Mithrandir. I could not carry out his task, but you did, and I feel relieved by knowing this. Moreover, he has put his faith into you, and I for my part have faith in his judgement. Tomorrow, I will depart to the King's halls and you will walk with me freely, without any bound or restriction."
The ranger did not know what to say. He did not think that if their places were reversed, he would trust the elf as much as Legolas was trusting him. He had often been told that the elves of the Woodland Realm were suspicious of strangers, and Melroch had spoken to him of the distrust many of his guards had for him and still, this elf, a son of King, did not hesitate to free him and believe what he said without proof.
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why do you not question and pressure me?"
Legolas smiled while shrugging.
"I am often told that I trust too easily, but it has never wronged me, so I do not think it is true. Perhaps it is because I find no reason to distrust you in any way."
Most people distrusted until proven trustful. It seemed Legolas did not function this way.
"Then, Legolas, I shall give you my name so that people cannot say that you have trusted me too soon."
"I care not what people say, and I shall hear your name only if that is your wish to give it."
"It is, now," he marked a pause. "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, chieftain of the Dunedain."
There was a silent moment during which Legolas seemed to ponder over what was just said to him. Then his lips stretched in his gentle smile. Aragorn did not know how much the elf knew about the Dunedain. In Imladris, it was widely but secretly known that the chieftain of the rangers was of the royal blood of Isildur, because Elrond kept close watch over his descendants. But here, this name and this status could mean nothing to the elves.
"Well, Aragorn, son of Arathorn, I see that we have much in common."
(1) Estel is the name given by Elrond to Aragorn when he came to live in Rivendell with his mother, it means "hope", "trust" or even "faith" in sindarin.
