27: Waiting Game

The waiting was interminable for them all. Théoden and his sisters were moody and fractious, trying Morwen’s nerves to the point that Aragorn had to order her to bed and the children banished from the keep. He had Wídfara take them back to the tent near the Dimholt.

"Keep them occupied," Aragorn told him, "even if you have to tie them up to do it."

Wídfara had merely grinned as he herded the protesting children away.

That solved one problem, but not, for Aragorn, the most immediate. Alone, his thoughts came crashing down upon him and his fears for both Thengel and Gilhael became almost overwhelming. At odd moments the memory of his confrontation with Thandir would assail him and he would find himself trembling, but whether from fear or something else, he could not say.

He was standing on the wall of the keep one evening, smoking his pipe and looking out into the night. It had snowed earlier that day but now the sky was clear and brilliant with stars. Menelvagor rode the sky in pursuit of the White Stag. He heard someone call out the hour and knew that the sentries would be making their rounds soon. All of a sudden, he was back at Helm’s Deep and Thandir was there, commanding him, deep inside his mind. Then, somehow, he found himself crouching against the parapet of Dunharrow’s highest tower with no memory of ever leaving the wall. He was weeping, rocking himself as if he were a child yearning for his naneth’s embrace, or his adar’s. Then, Wídfara was there, cradling him.

"What’s wrong, sweordbroðor?" the young Rider whispered.

"Th-thandir..."

Wídfara gasped but said nothing, merely holding Aragorn tighter until the spasms stopped and he was calmer.

"He shouldn’t have hurt you," Wídfara said quietly. "Elf-lord or not, he shouldn’t have hurt you."

"H-he didn’t," Aragorn protested weakly.

Wídfara gave a snort of disbelief but otherwise made no other comment, merely holding Aragorn as the Dúnadan attempted to collect himself.

"He didn’t hurt me, Wídfara," Aragorn reiterated more forcibly. "He did, however, overwhelm me and sometimes... sometimes the memory...." He shook his head, not wishing to go there again. He struggled up with a bit of help from Wídfara whose expression indicated that he was not entirely convinced by Aragorn’s words. The Dúnadan gave him a watery smile.

"It will be well, Wídfara," he said. "I promise."

"If you say so, sweordbroðor."

"But why are you here?" Aragorn then asked. "Should you not be minding the children?" There was a teasing light in his eyes when he said that.

Wídfara merely grinned. "They’re fast asleep and I needed the fresh air."

"I see," Aragorn said with a genuine grin. "Well, I am glad it was you who found me," he said, looking around. There were no sentries about, for which he was grateful. "I don’t remember coming to the tower, though." He gestured towards the wall. "My last memory was of standing over there smoking my pipe."

Wídfara nodded. "I was coming towards the keep when I saw you running toward the tower. I don’t think anyone else noticed, as the sentries were on their rounds."

Aragorn grimaced. "I hate this not knowing. I hate this waiting. Where is Thengel and what has happened to my cousin? I wish there were news."

Wídfara nodded. "As do I." He gave Aragorn a wry look. "Perhaps it would help if we waited together."

Aragorn gave him a grateful smile. "I’d like that, sweordbroðor. I’d like that very much."

They moved to stand against the parapet, looking out upon the snow-shrouded field, both lost in thought, with only the stars keeping them company.

****

A blizzard greeted them on the morning five days after Aragorn and Wídfara brought Théoden to Dunharrow. Aragorn’s heart sank when he woke to find everything shrouded in white. Wídfara had brought the royal children back into the keep and many of the refugees also sought shelter and safety from the storm behind the walls. Standing on the wall it was impossible to see the ground below.

"I fear the way to Dunharrow will be blocked," Aragorn said to Wídfara and Alric when he joined them in the Captain’s office.

"Five days since the siege was lifted and still no sign of Thengel King," Alric said, his frustration evident.

"Assuming the siege was indeed lifted," Aragorn retorted darkly, his mood sour.

"We must think positively," Alric declared. "We must believe the king succeeded."

"But where is he?" Aragorn demanded.

The older man shrugged. "I do not know, son. I only know that we must have hope... and wait."

As if we really have a choice, Aragorn thought to himself with a sigh.

The blizzard lasted another two days.

****

When the storm finally blew itself out, the sun seemed to shine with greater brilliance, as if to make up for the three days of gloom. Aragorn’s mood lifted and he felt more hopeful. He even permitted himself to be drawn into a snowball fight with the children, both the royal children and those from the refugee camp. Wídfara and some of the off-duty guards joined them.

Thus it was that in the midst of the game, one of the sentries at the head of the Hold Stairs came running along the narrow path that had been dug out as soon as the snow had ceased to fall.

"Thengel King approaches!" he shouted. "The king returns!"

Immediately, Aragorn and Wídfara ran towards the Stairs, arriving in time to see horsemen ride up the dale, the king’s banner in full view.

"Make sure the children stay here," Aragorn ordered Wídfara. "Do not let them descend the Stairs. I will go and let the queen know."

Wídfara nodded, grabbing Théoden just in time as Aragorn sprinted back towards the keep. Morwen had kept to her room, her condition causing her to tire easily. It was proving to be a most uncomfortable pregnancy, more so than the previous ones. Aragorn had kept a close eye on her, prescribing bedrest and giving her draughts to ease some of the discomfort.

Morwen was standing at the door of her room when Aragorn came upon her. She was dressed in a midnight blue gown trimmed with pearls and silver thread embroidery in a style that was more Gondorian than Rohirric. Her dark hair was caught in a pearl-encrusted netted snood; her grey eyes were bright with anticipation. In spite of her condition, though, she looked every inch a queen.

"Is it true, Thorongil?" she asked breathlessly. "Does my beloved Thengel come at last?"

"Yes, lady, he does."

The look of joy mingled with relief on the queen’s face was unmistakable. Then, she clutched her swollen abdomen.

"My lady?" Aragorn asked with concern, going to her. She waved him away, a look of wonder on her face.

"The babe... it moved."

Aragorn smiled, pleased. "If you will permit me, my lady?"

Morwen nodded and with much delicacy, yet with professional competence, Aragorn placed his hands on the queen’s belly, feeling for the babe within. He was rewarded with a kick and both queen and Dúnadan laughed.

"A strong babe," Aragorn said, releasing her. "Obviously she heard that her ada approaches and is eager to greet him."

"She?" Morwen asked in amusement.

Aragorn nodded. "An elvish gift that sometimes manifests itself among those who can claim descent from Elendil, however distant the relationship. I seem to have inherited the gift in full and Lord Elrond helped me to develop it. You carry a girl-child, my lady."

Morwen gave him a strange look and then smiled. "You will forgive me if I don’t take your word for it, Lord Thorongil."

Aragorn bowed, smiling back. "Only time will tell if I speak truly."

Morwen nodded. "But come, my lord approaches and I would greet him at the gates as is meet." She gathered her cloak and Aragorn offered her his arm, which she accepted gladly. "Where are the children?" she asked as they made their way through the keep.

Aragorn chuckled. "No doubt making Wídfara’s life miserable. I left him at the head of the Stairs with explicit instructions not to let the children past him."

Morwen actually giggled at that. "If he succeeded I will gift him with a ring or two for his agility."

"I’m sure he’ll appreciate it," Aragorn said with a laugh.

They reached the gate where they also found Alric and an honor guard waiting. Alric turned to Morwen with a bow. "Thengel King approaches the Stairs even now, my queen. He should be here presently."

And indeed, the Captain of Dunharrow spoke true, for within a matter of minutes they saw the king riding up with Théoden sitting before him. Théodfrid and Théodhild were riding with Hildebrand and Hildered, respectively. Of Wídfara there was no sign at first and then Aragorn spied him riding with one of the other Riders in the king’s éored.

Thengel saw Morwen and smiled at his queen. "My children greet me at the head of the Stairs, yet my queen chooses to wait here."

"Only because my personal physician refused to let me run into your arms, my lord," Morwen proclaimed with a laugh, a protective arm around her stomach.

"Then I forgive both you and your physician," Thengel said as he put Théoden down before dismounting himself. "I would not wish to have you endanger yourself or the child you carry, my love." Thengel reached out and, ignoring all who looked on, gathered his wife into his embrace and kissed her with great passion, which she returned in kind.

Aragorn noticed Théoden rolling his eyes and looking disgusted while his sisters had contented smiles on their faces. He tried not to laugh as he shared a knowing look with Wídfara, who had since dismounted and had joined him by the gate.

"How did you convince the children not to descend the Stairs?" Aragorn whispered to his sweordbroðor.

The younger Rider gave a diffident shrug. "I threatened to shoot them in the back with arrows."

"You didn’t!" Aragorn exclaimed in surprise, speaking much louder than he had intended.

Wídfara merely gave him a faint satisfied smile.

Thengel and Morwen separated, laughing, having heard the exchange between Aragorn and Wídfara. Thengel gave Wídfara a mock glare. "Threatening my children with bodily harm is a grave offense, youngster," he said gruffly, and then gave his thegn a wicked grin. "On the other hand, I must applaud you on your ingenuity."

Morwen laughed. "I told Thorongil that if Wídfara managed to keep the children from descending the Stairs that I would gift him with a ring or two."

Thengel raised an eyebrow at his wife and then nodded. "In that case, I have no choice but to add this armlet to your gift, my dear." He then followed words with deed by removing a gold-wrought armlet etched in knotwork and encrusted with gems, presenting it to the flustered Wídfara.

"Come," Thengel then said, gesturing to his children. "Let us go inside where it is warm and we will exchange tales."

At that they all followed Thengel and Morwen into the main hall. Alric walked beside the king, giving him a report on the situation in Dunharrow while Aragorn and Wídfara trailed behind, admiring the king’s gift.

****

The exchange of tales actually took place later, for Morwen pleaded fatigue and Thengel took her to her room, or actually, their room, and neither was seen again for several hours. In the meantime, Alric ordered a feast, or as much of one as was possible given their circumstances. Thus, it wasn’t until they were sitting down for the night meal that they heard what had happened in Aldburg.

"We broke the siege with little loss of life on either side," Thengel said as they enjoyed a venison stew. "The rebels were taken by surprise and offered little resistance."

"Why did you delay in coming, husband?" Morwen asked.

Thengel shook his head. "I did not, my love. Erkenbard and I spent the greater part of three days interrogating the ones identified as the leaders, though the true leaders had long fled to Edoras. Still, they eventually gave us information that will prove important in the retaking of Edoras."

"What happened to the besiegers?" Aragorn asked in curiosity.

Thengel grimaced. "Those who were willing to give me their parole are helping Erkenbard to defend Aldburg. The others...." He paused and everyone knew what was left unspoken.

There was an uneasy silence for a time as everyone attended to their meal, then Thengel looked at Aragorn. "Any news from the Westmark?"

Aragorn shook his head. "None, lord," he answered. "We have had no word from Hilderic and my cousin’s fate is still unknown."

"I sent scouts," Alric then said, "but none have yet returned."

"Then we must hope for the best," Thengel replied gravely. "I fear that with winter upon us we will be cut off from any news, be it good or ill, until Springtide."

It was a sobering thought and Aragorn couldn’t help sending a prayer to the Valar that all was well with Gilhael... and with Thandir.

****

Menelvagor: (Sindarin) Swordsman of the Sky; Orion. The reference to the White Stag is from Misty’s story "Shoot the Moon", which can be found on this site.

Note: A netted snood is essentially a medieval hairnet intricately woven with gemstones and used to keep the woman’s hair in place.