12. Palantír: Paths of the Dead

Aragorn's own thoughts were dark now, and yet he found strength in them, as he found it on the Paths of the Dead, the strength for the whole Grey Company that followed him as a Captain, that rode after him to through Eregion and Rohan at his heart's wish and Galadriel's summon, the strength to summon the ghosts of the oathbreakers. Unknown to his though, their presence strengthened him as well, for there was a strength in thinking of "we" and not just "I", and the concern for others helped him to override his own fears, like so many times before, to not run before the ghostly footsteps and whispers, but remain firm and calm with the Dead behind their back. Dead army and words of a dead poet and seer to accompany him. And something inside of him was dying as well in fear that he will come too late, that he will fail.

-oOo-

The thought of the Path brought forth another memory – it belonged to Sauron, and it filled the palantír so slowly and quietly, gradually changing the picture that Aragorn almost didn't notice it until it changed completely:

The same army, the same men. Different time, though – they were still alive. They worshipped him, and he enjoyed it. To them, he was a great smith, maker of rings, and their voices sounded in consonance with praise to him. They bowed before his power, and their words dressed him in a mantle of glory. Isildur came to them, the light of fallen Númenor in his eyes. Intimidated, they gave an oath to him – the cradle of their tragedy. Torn between two allegiances, unhappy people who did not fully serve anyone, who did not know their place and refused to fight, hiding in fear. He laid the blame on Isildur for their fate…