17: Confrontation

Háma was brought around by the simple expedient of Thandir picking up a pitcher of water and pouring it over the Man’s head while the other Mortals looked on with various expressions ranging from amused resignation (Aragorn) to disbelief (Grimbold). Háma sputtered awake and looked up at the Elf standing over him and cringed, trying to crawl out of Thandir’s reach. Thandir, of course, was not in the mood for games, and calmly reached down and pulled the hapless Mortal to his feet and pushed him into a chair. Aragorn had to admit the poor Man looked somewhat pathetic, sitting there dripping water with an Elf standing over him, an Elf who, in spite of his present occupation as one of Elrond’s scouts, was a scion of a noble Noldorin family high in the councils of the Noldóran, and obviously knew how to act as such. Thandir had a presence about him that suddenly reminded Aragorn of Glorfindel when that particular Elf chose to reveal himself as the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower, rather than as Imladris’ Seneschal and Captain of the Guards.

"Now, begin at the beginning, child," Thandir said softly, though his tone brooked no dissent, "and leave no detail, however small, out of the telling. Gilhael’s life depends on it."

So Háma reiterated what he had told the others, perhaps adding additional details at Thandir’s prompting, but otherwise telling the same tale.

"Where precisely was Gilhael running to?" Thandir asked at the end of Háma’s tale. "Could you tell if he had a specific destination in mind?"

Háma shook his head. "It wasn’t towards where we had camped, but more southwesterly. If he did not swerve in his route he would have ended up at the banks of the Isen, but there is nowhere he could have gone that would have led to safety. Eventually, the Dunlendings would have caught up with him."

"How swiftly is the Isen flowing at this time of year?" Aragorn asked and was rewarded with an approving look from Thandir.

Háma thought for a moment. "The recent rains will have swelled the waters though not to flood levels. Still, it will be running swiftly enough." He paused and gave Aragorn a puzzled look. "Is that what you think, that Tungolfród intended for the Isen to take him out of the reach of the Dunlendings?"

Aragorn nodded. "If he had enough of a head start he could have taken to the river and be well away before any of the pursuers reached the banks."

"If he had enough of a head start," Hilderic repeated, sounding uncertain.

Thandir moved to the map. "Show me where lies this village."

Hilderic pointed it out to him and the Elf stared at the map for several minutes. No one spoke. Finally he turned to his companions and spoke in rapid Sindarin. Celegrýn nodded and Gilgirion grinned; both of them gave Thandir a brief bow and left. Aragorn gave Thandir a piercing look.

"Even if that’s true," he said in Westron, "there’s little chance of him surviving."

"Have you given up hope already, Thorongil?" Thandir said with a teasing look in his eyes that made the Dúnadan scowl.

"I’m going with you," Aragorn said.

Thandir shook his head. "No."

Aragorn found himself bristling at the Elf’s tone. When he spoke he did so in Sindarin, his eyes flashing with barely concealed anger. "He is my cousin and I am his Chieftain. You have no say over my comings and goings, Thandir. If you do not wish for my company, I will go alone, but go I will."

Thandir, for his part, remained calm, seemingly unaffected by Aragorn’s words, but there was a light in his eyes that even Aragorn had never seen in any of the Elves of his acquaintance and the Dúnadan found himself taking an involuntary step back. "Child, when I say ‘no’ I mean it," Thandir said, speaking Sindarin as well. "You will not come with us nor will you go alone into the Westmark. That is not your destiny. Your destiny lies to the east. Return you to Edoras. I will bring your cousin to you, never fear. Go to Thengel. He has need of you."

"No," Aragorn said as coldly as he could, refusing to allow Thandir to command him as if he were still a child. Thandir took a step forward, all the other Mortals in the room forgotten as Edhel and Dúnadan confronted each other. Aragorn forced himself not to flinch from the Elf’s mien. Not even Glorfindel had ever looked this dangerous to him.

"More is at stake here than your wounded pride, Estel," Thandir said softly, speaking now in Westron. "Do not abuse our friendship with your intransigence, child. I have seen three Ages come and go and have survived terrors you could never comprehend. When I tell you your destiny lies to the east, I do not speak frivolously nor am I dismissing your abilities as a Ranger. Your coming to the Westmark with us will not change the outcome of your cousin’s fate, but your presence in Edoras may well tip the balance towards good. Evil stalks this land, Estel, evil that I have tasted before in the hinterlands of Beleriand and in the forests of Eriador long before your ancestor Elendil ever reached these shores from drowned Númenor, evil that has the stench of the Nameless to it, though he is lost in the Void. Go to Thengel, child. Defend the King."

Aragorn stared at the Elf for a long moment and whatever he saw in Thandir’s eyes convinced him that defying the ellon would be more than foolhardy; it would be dangerous. He felt himself blushing and looking away, unable to meet the Elf’s steady gaze. He had never felt this way before among the Firstborn and it was unsettling. Then Thandir took him into his embrace and held him for a moment.

"I will bring Gilhael back, Estel," he whispered in Sindarin. "I will bring him back to you, iôn nîn."

He stepped back and gave the Dúnadan a brief smile. "We will leave now for the Westmark. Hebo nedh 'ûr gîn i phith nîn, Estel." Without acknowledging the other Mortals, Thandir exited the room, his footsteps too soft for any of them to hear. For a long moment no one moved or spoke, then Aragorn felt his knees buckle and he crumpled to the floor, his expression stricken as the enormity of what had just happened irrupted upon his consciousness. He was barely aware of Heruthain holding him as he allowed himself to let go.

****

"I cannot leave the Westfold," Hilderic said some time later, after Aragorn had recovered somewhat, though he still looked as if he were in shock. "I must send the éored to that village and destroy whatever lurks there." He gave Aragorn a searching look. "You, however, I can send back to Edoras with all that we’ve learned about the dangers besetting us. Grimbold and Hardbeohrt, if he is well enough, will accompany you."

Aragorn nodded listlessly, only half paying attention. The confrontation with Thandir had left him feeling oddly detached from his surroundings and he was finding it difficult to concentrate. He did not see Hilderic give Heruthain and Grimbold a worried look. It was Grimbold who spoke then, giving Aragorn a rough pat on the shoulder.

"Thengel King needs us, Earntungol," the Rohir said with gruff camaraderie. "The Elf was right in that much. Come, let us depart and I will show you the hidden ways between here and Edoras that no outsider has ever been shown."

For a long moment Aragorn merely stared at the older man, and then, reluctantly, he nodded. "Let us depart," he echoed quietly.

In the end, it was decided that Wídfara would travel with them. "He is loyal to Thorongil and will see to his needs," Hilderic said in explanation to Grimbold and Heruthain and the other two men agreed.

Thus, the day after Thandir and the Elves left for the Westmark, Aragorn was riding east to Edoras, fear for his cousin foremost in his mind, fear for himself deep within his soul.

****

Noldóran: (Quenya) King of the Noldor, at this time, Arafinwë (Finarfin).

Edhel: (Sindarin) Elf.

Ellon: (Sindarin) Male elf.

Iôn nîn: (Sindarin) My son.

Hebo nedh 'ûr gîn i phith nîn, Estel: (Sindarin) "Keep in your heart my words, Estel".

Note: ‘The Nameless’ (in Sindarin, iBen-eneth) is a title originally given to Morgoth, though Sauron was also called thus by the Gondorians.