Ch. 33 - Help Too Late

Aragorn could not endure another moment. He stood, saw Elrohir’s questioning eyes, and shrugged. Quietly, he stepped over the sleeping Rohir. Crouching next to his brother, he smiled wanly.

“I can lie still no longer. I will ride out a little ways, just to do a quick search of the road, see if any are about.” His brow furrowed. “I cannot sleep.”

"I will go with you," Elrohir stated flatly.

"Nay," Aragorn said and his voice was firm. "I know this road and this land almost as well as Erkenbrand. I will not stray from the road. If anything untoward should happen, I promise I will not engage the enemy, nor be drawn into any battle. I will return here and seek your help."

He stared at Elrohir. "I cannot stay here. I will find no rest." His voice held such anguish that Elladan turned.

Elrohir handed him the flask of miruvor. "Take this with you. If you do find the Steward, this should help. If you have not returned by the midnight hour, I will follow and I will thrash you senseless." He smiled and hugged Aragorn roughly. "You are precious to me, brother."

“Whether you want it or no, I will go with you, Estel.” The Elf turned quickly towards Elrohir. “We will only be gone a short time – just to travel the road for an hour or so. My heart, too, bears distress. I feel as if something terrible has happened, or is about to, and the need for help is great.”

Aragorn clasped Elladan’s shoulder, gratitude spilling from his eyes. “We will not look for trouble, Elrohir, but will just patrol. If trouble finds us, we will turn and come back here. Then, we will face it together.”

“So I am left to sit here?”

“Give us an hour and one back, then, I promise, I will come back and rest.”

Elladan smiled and mounted his own horse. Within moments, they were beyond the fire’s light.

Aragorn kept to the road, watching for signs of travel. In a short time, the sun set. He swore quietly. ‘Hard to track in the dark. Yet, if someone comes along, we will hear them.’

They had ridden only a short time when Elladan turned to face Aragorn. “After this, what will you do, Estel?”

Aragorn looked at his brother in surprise. “Return to my Ranger duties.”

“Gondor would be ripe for her king’s return.”

Aragorn pulled his horse up. “What are you saying, Elladan?”

“That a six-year old should not govern your land. That your people need you. That no one would question your reign if you went now, told them who you are, take what is rightfully yours. It is the perfect time. Gondor needs you. And,” Elladan’s voice lowered, “You would have Arwen at your side.”

Aragorn took a long, deep breath. The sound of it scraping past his teeth surprised Elladan. “I spoke out of turn. I am sorry.”

“The same thoughts have run through my mind,” Aragorn said finally. “And I took them seriously, but I think it is the worst time. Gondor reels with pain. Her Steward murdered by Orcs, Boromir killed by his own lords, Faramir under some spell, and Indis trying to keep Gondor together. Can you not imagine the confusion if I came forward?

“Ah, yes. Here I am, out of the north to claim the throne that the Stewards hold belongs to Anárion’s line, but I will take it. Nay, Elladan. Some might accept me because of their fear of being leaderless, but soon, they would wonder and question. Certain lords would plot further treason. If there are those who rebel now, with a Steward in the line of Mardil Veronwë already in place, what is to stop them from rebelling if I try to take the throne now? Kin-strife would wield its ugly head again. I cannot do this.

“If Faramir dies, Indis will lead them. She is strong and the people love and respect her. Let Gondor heal, then I will meet with her. She suspects, I think, of my place in Gondor. Her father was no fool. Neither was Denethor. She will prepare our people, over time, to accept my claim. That is the wiser course; I would…”

Elladan held up his hand and immediately, Aragorn stopped speaking. The Elf motioned to a spot ahead of them, but Aragorn saw nothing. Elladan pulled his horse closer to his brother’s, put his finger to his lips, leaned over and whispered, “There is a speck of light ahead of us.”

Aragorn nodded, though he saw nothing, and slid from his horse. Elladan joined him on the ground. The Elf whispered to the horses, then, leaving them, moved slowly forward. Aragorn followed in his footsteps. Swords were drawn with nary a sound.

After a few moments, Aragorn was able to see the light. Silently, they approached it.

Elladan, sensing the smell of Orcs, forgot Aragorn’s promise to Elrohir; all memory vanished but the pain-filled face of his mother. His skin prickled as anger and hatred drove all other thought from him. Clenching his teeth, he swung his sword slowly in an arc, preparing to avenge her once again. He began to shake as battle lust filled his fëa. The predator stepped forward, the Elf left behind. He had become a killing machine again.