Chapter Twenty-One – An Offer Made

Faramir looked after the Elves, a small smile playing on his face. “They are funny.”

Aragorn laughed loudly. “They are. They cause a lot of trouble, too.”

For one moment, Faramir stopped breathing, his mind running after a thought. “Who are they really?”

Aragorn looked at the little one in amaze, then answered honestly. “They are my brothers.”

Faramir laughed. “I thought so.” Suddenly, and trying hard not to cry, he said, “They speak to you like Boromir spoke to me. They are your big brothers?”

A smile answered him.

“I like them.”

“I am quite certain they like you too, especially Elrohir.”

The boy blushed. “I cannot tell which one is which.”

“Do not be too hard on yourself. Not many can. Sometimes,” and his grin turned even wider, “they try to fool me, but they cannot.”

Faramir looked down at the ground. “What did Elrohir want you to tell me? Has something happened in Gondor?” His breath hitched. “Has something ha… happened…?” He bit his lip.

“What is it, Faramir? All is well in Gondor.”

“Noth… nothing has happened to Aunt Indis?”

“Nay.” Aragorn’s brow furrowed in dismay. “I am sorry. It has nothing to do with Gondor. I should have spoken immediately, not given you something to fear. It is simply this. Elrohir believes that you and I should spend some time together. He thinks you are an intelligent boy and should have some lessons in woodcraft and such. What do you think of that?”

“You mean,” the boy’s voice grew excited, “you mean learn about the woods and trails and camping and stuff?”

“I do. I take it you like the idea.”

“When do we start?”

Aragorn laughed uproariously. “You mean you want to start yesterday?”

Faramir blushed. “Yes.”

“We cannot, I am sorry to say. It will take some time for my ankle to heal and we cannot stay in Ithilien with a wounded Ranger. Too many Orcs and such about. Besides that, my father has asked me to return home for awhile. I cannot disobey him, much as I would wish to stay with you. And your aunt has had a difficult time, I am sure, with your being lost. I need to get you back to her and quickly.”

The boy nodded in agreement. “I must get back home. I am sure she is quite worried. As well as my friend, Targon.”

“Then it is agreed. I will tell you this. We will somehow get you to the bridge at Osgiliath, unless we run into a search party. They must have sent out search parties.” His brow creased. “Faramir. I am a Captain of Gondor, but I cannot let your men see me. I am on an… an extended secret mission. Your men do not even know my name, but your aunt does. I need you to keep my secret. Can you do that?”

“Of course. I am the Steward of Gondor. If you are one of my captains, on a secret mission, who better to trust your secret with?” The boy shrugged. “I will tell no one.”

“Thank you. What I will do is this. I will give you a note that you must hide and only give to your Aunt Indis. I will write in that note that I have taken you on as my esquire. Do you like that idea?”

The boy’s eyes grew round. “I am honored,” he said as he gulped.

“Good. We will not be able to train year-round, as is the custom. However, I will return to Gondor in the spring. I will meet you at Morwen’s farm in Lebennin on Ethuil. Bring your sword and shield, perhaps a hauberk of mail. Everything else will be provided.”

“Should I take an oath now?”

Aragorn smiled. Precious child, he thought. “Nay. I would have you speak with Indis regarding an oath. She has much wisdom. You may tell me her decision when next we meet.”

The boy nodded as the Elves returned.

“Has anything been decided?” Elrohir asked with a smile.

“It is past time for bed for this little one,” Aragorn said in Quenya.

“I am not a little one and Anor just set.”

Aragorn looked at the boy in surprise.

“Amma has been teaching me Quenya. I am to be Steward and must know the tongues of the land.”

“Of course you must,” Elladan stated dryly. “Especially since everyone in Minas Tirith speaks Quenya fluently.”

Faramir cocked his head to the side, then giggled. “I have to read the scrolls, you know,” he said, once again serious.

“He does, Elladan,” Aragorn agreed. “The Steward will need to know all that the scrolls tell, even the ancient ones, if he is to help his king.”

Elladan shivered and noted the speaking of the title did the same for Elrohir.

Faramir, however, did not notice. He turned towards who he thought was Elrohir and smiled. “I am to be Strider’s esquire.” Pride shown clear on his face.

Nonplussed, Elladan asked. “Why are you so proud of that fact? Did you do something to earn it?”

The boy stared at him in surprise. “Na… nay,” he stuttered. “He asked me.”

Elrohir gently moved in front of Elladan. “One thing an esquire must have is humility, Faramir. Strider has given you a great boon, but you did naught to deserve it. Therefore, your proper response might have been, ‘Strider has gifted me with becoming his esquire.’ Does that not sound more appropriate?”

Aragorn began to laugh. “And when your father made you one of his captains, I seem to remember you dragging us all into the Hall of Fire and toasting yourself!”

Elrohir looked abashed. “I have learned from my mistake and was only trying to help the young Steward.”

Faramir looked from one to the other. “He is right, Strider. I know my aunt thinks you are a great Captain of Gondor and I was feeling proud that you asked me to be your esquire. Forgive me?”

“Only if you forgive me for leading these two to you. They are a tiresome lot and full of puffed up importance.” He ducked as Elrohir tried to swat him. “Pay them no head, Faramir. You will learn many things in time. That is why I picked you for my esquire. You have a good head on your shoulders, are quick to listen, and quicker to learn.”

“I hope,” Elrohir said stiffly, “that the two of you are quite finished with praising each other!”

Aragorn lunged and threw Elrohir to the ground in mock battle. The two rolled in the dirt while Faramir and Elladan looked on. Faramir was horrified; Elladan was quite amused. “Do not worry about them. They are my younger brothers and still like to tussle now and again.” He turned Faramir towards him. “Perhaps you would like to help me clean up from the evening meal?”

Faramir let Elladan lead him to the stream. They filled a pot full of water and brought it back. Elrohir and Aragorn were calmly dusting their leggings off.

“Who won?” Elladan asked.

“I did.” Both brothers responded.

“To bed with you, Faramir.” Elladan ignored them both. The camp slowly settled.

Aragorn stepped to Faramir’s side. “He sleeps.” He turned towards his brothers. “I have two concerns, along with a thousand others, but I need to speak with you about two.” He sat down by the fire and pulled out his pipe. “There should have been search parties.”

“Mayhap they do not know the boy has come this far down the river,” Elrohir opined.

“They have engineers. They should have been able to calculate, with the current and his body weight, how far he would have traveled.”

“Mayhap they knew not when he fell in. He did say it was during the night?”

“Yes, Elladan. That would explain that.”

“They may have decided the boy is drowned and have only sent search parties along the banks to find the body. Probably looking further south – by the Harlond.”

“I cannot believe Indis would not still hope. I can only hope that they are searching further north for him, eventually combing the lands and moving southward.”

“I think that is the truer of the pictures you paint, Estel. The search parties are probably still north and moving this way. We should keep an ear out for them.” Elrohir offered.

“Your other concern, brother?” Elladan asked quietly. “It seems the graver.”

“It is. The spell. It felt like a wizard’s spell.”

And eerie silence filled the camp as both Elves’ minds flew back towards their time in Angrenost just a few short months ago.

“We have two wizards in Middle-earth - ”

“There are three, that we know of, Estel,” Elladan gently corrected him. “Mithrandir, Curunír, and Aiwendil. Father oft talked of two or three others, but that was ages ago. I do not know, but they may have returned to Valinor.”

“Then let us look at who we have. There is Mithrandir. I trust him with my life. Then there is the White Wizard, Curunír. Our father seems to value him, but after our time in Angrenost, I do not know. I sensed cunning and evil.”

“There was a spell laid upon you, Estel. Whether it was whilst we were in the wizard’s fortress or no, I cannot say.”

“I know. Father listened to our tale, but said naught. I believe he waits to speak with Mithrandir.”

“Yes. There was a healer, did not Indis say, that came with the party to Minas Tirith – a healer from Rohan?”

“There was. Do you think a simple healer could make such a spell?”

Elladan stood up and paced. “If the healer was a disciple of a wizard.” His face was grim. “Being so close to Angrenost, the assumption might be that he is a minion of Curunír.”

Aragorn shook his head. “Another thing we should tell Father.”

“Yes. And the ingredients for the spell could have been transported from Meduseld. All the healer would have to do is learn the words of enchantment.”

“The spell seemed stronger than a second-hand one. Could it have possibly been Sauron?”

At this, Elladan stopped his pacing. “I hope not.”