4: Punishment

When Hilderic and Gilhael left two days later it was without Aragorn, who was still in too much pain to move far from his bed. Gilhael came to say good-bye, obviously distressed at being forced to leave his Chieftain behind.

"I cannot refuse to leave without making things worse for us... for you," he said to Aragorn as he sat on a stool in the room where Aragorn was being housed until his injuries had healed.

Aragorn nodded. "I know and I do not want you to do anything to jeopardize your standing among the Rohirrim. I’ll be fine, Cousin."

Gilhael continued to look pensive and sighed. "I just wish I knew what kind of punishment Thengel has in store for you."

Aragorn gave his own sigh, sounding somewhat worried. "So do I."

****

"Punishments should always fit the crime," Thengel said gravely two days later.

By now Aragorn’s injuries had healed enough that the healers reluctantly allowed him to rise from his bed. Aragorn did his best to keep the amusement from his face when Léofwine, the chief healer, announced that he was free to leave them. Thengel had ordered Aragorn to meet him in the throne hall and from there the two made their way to the king’s private apartments, walking down a dark passage.

"I know your cousin has been teaching you Rohirric," the king said, "and you have a fair command of it even in the short amount of time in which you have been learning it." He gave Aragorn a deprecating smile. "Far better than I had of Sindarin, I can tell you. Some of my gaffes had Turgon and his court in stitches for days on end, so I know what you’re going through."

He stopped and gave Aragorn a grave look that made the younger man slightly nervous. "For that reason, I’ve decided on a suitable punishment. My children, when I told them, were quite amused... and impressed." Thengel gave the young Dúnadan a wink and his smile reassured him. Whatever the punishment, it would not be shameful.

Thengel continued walking and Aragorn followed him into a small sunlit room and suddenly wondered if ‘shameful’ was too weak a word. It was a schoolroom and it was occupied. There were five children, three of them Thengel’s. The other two were a boy and a girl near enough alike in looks that Aragorn suspected they were siblings. They appeared to be about the same age as Théoden. There was an older man with a kind face, obviously their tutor. He was about Thengel’s age and looked to be a warrior by his bearing. Aragorn noticed, though, that he stood with a cane in one hand and suspected the man had suffered an injury that now kept him from riding with the Rohirrim. As soon as Thengel entered the room, all the children rose and gave him their obeisance. Their tutor did the same. Thengel smiled.

"Be seated children," he said, speaking in Westron, and then turned his attention to the tutor. "Gléomund, here is your new pupil, Earntungol."

It took a moment for Aragorn to realize that Thengel meant him. ‘Earntungol’ was obviously a Rohirric rendering of Thorongil. It would take getting used to.

"M-my lord?" Aragorn addressed the king, not entirely sure what was going on. He noticed Théoden and Théodhild were sniggering softly and started to blush.

The king gave him a sympathetic smile. "I’ve decided you are a danger to me and my kingdom, Thorongil. Therefore, I have no choice but to banish you... to this schoolroom. Here you will remain until you have mastered my people’s tongue. Gléomund speaks Westron so he will be able to instruct you."

"And I will endeavor to make the process as painless as possible, my lord," Gléomund said with a bow and a glint of humor in his eyes.

Thengel gave the tutor a wry smile. "Not too painless, my friend. It is, after all, supposed to be a punishment."

This was too much for the children, who started giggling. The other boy said something in Rohirric that Aragorn didn’t catch but that set the other children howling with glee. Thengel merely rolled his eyes and Gléomund gave the children his best glower, not that it did any good.

"You will be in good company, young man," Thengel said. "My own children have been somewhat neglectful of their language studies." He glowered at Théoden in particular. Aragorn noticed though that none of the children seemed particularly repentant and realized that Thengel was a doting father and his children adored him.

Aragorn sighed at the amused looks on the faces of the children and tutor and turned to Thengel. "Wouldn’t a flogging be a more appropriate punishment, my lord?"

Thengel laughed, clapping Aragorn on the shoulder. "More appropriate, perhaps, but not nearly as much fun. You will report here each morning after breaking your fast. When your lessons are over, seek out Hildebrand and he will assign you some light duties until your injuries are completely healed." He turned to Gléomund. "Teach him well."

Gléomund bowed. "I can do nothing less, my liege."

Thengel nodded, gave the children a smile, and left. Gléomund gestured to the bench where Théoden and the other boy sat. "Why don’t you sit with Théoden and Elfgar, Earntungol. You may share their slate for now."

Remembering his days being tutored by Erestor, Glorfindel and half the elves of Imladris, Aragorn gave the man a respectful bow. "Yes, Master," he said, then he sat down next to Théoden. Or tried to. The bench was built for children in mind and his legs were too long. Finally he ended up sitting on the floor, his long legs sticking out into the middle of the room.

The children all screamed with laughter and Gléomund’s eyes were bright with unconcealed mirth at the sight. Aragorn simply put his head in his hands and hoped that no one in Imladris would ever find out.

****

In retrospect, it could have been worse. Gléomund turned out to be a sympathetic teacher who corrected his students, including Aragorn, gently and with much encouragement. The children were enthusiastic learners and all of them eagerly vied for the right to ‘help’ Earntungol with his lessons. The two other children in the room were Elfgar, age nine, and his sister Elfhild, who was a year younger. They were the children of Elfhelm of Eastfold and Hildegard, Hildebrand’s daughter.

The first day’s lesson was spent in learning to write the letters of the language, somewhat different in form from the Sindarin and Quenya Aragorn was used to, though there were obvious similarities. The Rohirrim were distantly related to the House of Hador, one of the three Houses of the Edain who had fought beside the Noldorin kings of Beleriand all those long millennia ago and their written script was based on the tengwar of the Elves.

The lesson did not last long, though Gléomund assured Aragorn that future lessons would last half the morning. "Thengel King wishes you to be proficient in the language before harvest time," Gléomund told him as he was leaving the schoolroom for the day. "He still has a mind for you to join Lord Hilderic’s éored, but not until you can handle our language as well as you handle your horse."

Hildebrand, when he was found, was also sympathetic. "As punishments go, young man, it is not so bad, is it? And there is no shame in it."

Aragorn had to agree, for once the lessons began in earnest he felt less embarrassed. Indeed, as the days and weeks went on, he began to look forward to his daily ‘punishment’. True to his word and Thengel’s command, Gléomund was a thorough taskmaster and was not afraid to reprimand the Dúnadan if he suspected Aragorn was being less than sterling in his attempts to master Rohirric.

Almost immediately, those around him took pains to speak Rohirric as simply as possible, correcting him when he made an error and often laughing at the unintended humor such errors inevitably evoked. Of Grimbold or the other man, he saw no sign, much to his relief, nor did he inquire as to their whereabouts. Best to leave sleeping orcs where they lie, he decided.

Once his ribs healed and he was no longer limping, Aragorn fell into a routine of rising before dawn to give Mithfaron a work out before taking breakfast with Hildebrand and his family. Somewhere along the way the First Marshal of the Mark, his oldest son and his daughter's family had adopted him and Aragorn welcomed their obvious concern for his welfare.

After breakfast, there were lessons and after lessons Aragorn would report to the First Marshal who recognized the Dúnadan’s uncanny ability to see the entire picture where most men saw only bits and pieces and sought to exploit it for the benefit of Rohan.

"The Elves of Imladris taught me to see things from a different perspective," Aragorn said when Hildebrand commented on this particular skill. They were with Thengel at the time, and the king and his marshal were explaining the ways of the Rohirrim to the young Dúnadan. "They see things from the perspective of millennia. The Master of Imladris has witnessed three ages and I met some Elves living under Lord Elrond’s roof who remember the Two Trees."

Thengel had to explain the reference to the Trees to Hildebrand, but when the marshal understood its significance he gave Aragorn a strange look. "It must have been unnerving, living with such ancient beings."

Aragorn smiled wistfully. "I was just young enough not to care. They were my friends, some of them almost like brothers to me, and they taught me much."

The summer was fading into autumn when Thengel decided to visit the schoolroom to see how the young Dúnadan was faring. He had noticed a marked improvement in the lad’s skill with Rohirric, though he was by no means proficient or even fluent. Still his errors were no longer as grave as the one that had forced Thengel to respond as he had. Several of his Witan had thought the king too lenient and would have pressed for a harsher sentence. The insult to the Mearas, however unintentional, was too grave to be fully ignored. In the end, though, all bowed to the wisdom of the king, for even the most reluctant to forgive Aragorn could see that the young man was studiously attempting to make amends by learning Rohirric as well as possible, as quickly as possible.

Walking softly so the children were not alerted to his presence, Thengel stood at the doorway of the schoolroom so that only Gléomund could see him. The tutor gave no outward sign that he knew the king was there, so that even Aragorn, engrossed in trying to decipher the poem Gléomund had given him to translate was unaware of the royal visitor. Aragorn was no longer seated on the floor, but in a chair that had been found for him and was now beside Gléomund’s desk. The children, Thengel noticed, were busy with their own lessons.

"Try that line again, Earntungol," Gléomund said. "You are mistranslating ‘Hwær cwóm’."

Aragorn scowled but did as he was bid. "Hwær cwóm maerg? What has come of the horse? Hwær cwóm mago? What has come of the man... no, kinsman."

"Nay, Thorongil," Thengel said as he left the doorway. "You are still mistranslating." Everyone rose as the king entered and Thengel gestured for the children to resume their seats. Aragorn and Gléomund remained standing. "‘Hwær cwóm’ has a similar construction to the Sindarin ‘man sad bannen’."

Aragorn’s eyes lit up in comprehension and he nodded. "Thank you my lord. I fear I am not very good at this yet."

"But Gléomund assures me that you are doing quite well," Thengel said. "He is quite pleased with your progress, as am I."

Aragorn could not help but straighten with pride at the king’s word. Chieftain of the Dúnedain he might be, but he was still young enough to appreciate the sincere interest of those older than he. He bowed again to the king.

"I think you are sufficiently versed in Rohirric not to be a danger to me and my kingdom, young man. I hereby release you from your punishment."

The children, especially Théoden and Elfgar, cheered, the two boys rushing to hug the Dúnadan.

"Thank you, my lord," Aragorn said as he attempted to keep his balance, for the boys were now joined by the three girls.

Over the past several weeks the children had informally adopted Aragorn as an older brother and were often seen in his company when his duties did not take him elsewhere. He was infinitely patient with them and took the time to answer any questions they might have. They were, of course, particularly fascinated with any stories he might tell of the Elves and, naturally enough, horses.

These children of Rohan, who had been riding since before they could walk, were in awe of Mithfaron, who, recognizing these small two-legs as foals, treated them with the equivalent of equine paternalism. Their greatest treat was when Aragorn lifted them up onto Mithfaron and allowed them to ride the great grey. Mithfaron, of course, took it all in his stride and refused to be goaded into anything more than a light canter (by Aragorn’s orders), no matter how loudly the children yelled "Noro lim!" (the only Sindarin little Elfhild knew).

Thengel smiled indulgently at the children trying to congratulate their ‘brother’. "I think it would be wise, though, if you continued your studies as much as possible until you leave for the Westfold."

"And when will that be, my lord?" Aragorn asked, relieved beyond measure that he would soon be joining Gilhael. He had not realized until his cousin had left how much he had relied on the older Dúnadan for companionship and as a link to his home and his people.

"Soon," Thengel said warmly. "Though I suspect for you, not soon enough, hey?"

Aragorn blushed at that and nodded. Thengel and Gléomund exchanged knowing looks, both of them grinning at the younger man still trying to keep his balance while all five children were hanging off him, Elfhild having gone so far as to wrap her arms around his neck, happily choking him in her enthusiasm.

****

All words and phrases are Rohirric (Anglo-Saxon) unless otherwise noted.

Hwær cwóm mearg? Hwær cwóm mago?: From The Wanderer, line 92a. Usually translated as "Where has the horse gone? Where the rider?" Mago more properly means ‘youth/young man’ or sometimes ‘kinsman’ and also ‘warrior’. However, since the horse and the youth appear in the same half-line, ‘rider’ is usually inferred. That is, at least, the way Tolkien translated this poem. He has Aragorn say these same lines in translation (see Chapter 6 of The Two Towers.)

Man sad bannen: (Sindarin) Given by Thengel as an equivalent to the Rohirric hwær cwóm, this literally means "What place (has) gone".

Note: Elfhild will eventually grow up to become Théoden’s wife and the mother of Théodred. Her brother, Elfgar (OC) will become the father of Elfhelm, one of Théoden’s marshals with whom Éowyn (as Dernhelm) and Merry ride to the Siege of Minas Tirith.