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Stirrings of Shadow  by Fiondil

35: Being the Second Part of the Elves’ Tale:

Hunting the Lost

For long moments the only sound in the hall as Thandir finished describing the slaughter of the orcs and Dunlendings was the crackling of the fire. No one moved; all sat in stunned silence. Even Aragorn, used to the ways of Elves, looked nonplused and said nothing.

"But what happened to Tungolfród?" a small voice piped up.

Everyone stirred and Thandir even smiled. Both Thengel and Morwen, however, did not. The King turned to see his heir standing in the shadows dressed in his nightshirt and robe, his eyes wide as saucers. He sighed and gave his spouse a rueful smile, then gestured for the boy to join them, picking him up and setting him on his lap.

"What are you doing up, my son?" Thengel said softly as the other adults looked on with indulgent smiles.

"I wanted to hear what happened to Tungolfród, Ada," the boy answered, snuggling in his father’s arms, stifling a yawn and blinking rapidly as if to drive sleep away.

"Ah, well, we were just coming to that part," Thengel said, then looked down at his son, his face troubled. "How much have you heard?"

Théoden shrugged. "Thandir...."

"Lord Thandir," Morwen corrected gently.

"Lord Thandir was killing orcs... twenty of them, Ada!" the youngster said, his expression one of awe rather than fear or disgust and Thengel was amused to see his son gaze adoringly at the Elf still standing in the middle of the hall. The hero-worship in Théoden’s eyes was plain to see and Thengel noticed that the other Elves were giving Thandir unsympathetically amused looks of their own at the Elf-lord’s expression of discomfort under the boy’s regard.

"I had help," the scout protested. "Elrohir killed twenty, also," he said, pointing to the Elf in question, hoping to divert the Mortal child’s attention, but young Théoden was not easily moved from his hero-worshiping and Elrohir didn’t help.

"I only killed a dozen," he said, shaking his head with a laugh. "Elladan and Celegrýn took out the others."

Thandir scowled at him as the listeners laughed at the byplay. Thengel laughed along with the others. "Well, regardless of who killed which orc," he said to Thandir, "I’m assuming that particular threat to my people has been eliminated?"

Thandir bowed. "Yes, Thengel King. We stayed long enough to see that all the buildings burned to the ground so the village can never again be used as a hideout for your enemies. There is naught of Æsctun save the memory of its name." He gave them a dangerous smile and several of the warriors went instinctively for swords that were not there before stopping themselves, looking shamefaced. "Indeed," he continued, ignoring the reaction of the Rohirrim, "I would suggest renaming the place Ascantun if I were you, Thengel King."

Théoden, not at all abashed by his hero’s mood changes, snickered and the sound of the youngster’s delighted chuckle lightened the mood. Thengel gave his son a brief but warm hug and a kiss on his brow. "Indeed," he said. "Now, perhaps you would continue your tale, good Elf, so that my son can finally go to sleep."

"Ada!" Théoden protested sleepily, fighting another yawn and snuggling even closer into Thengel’s lap as Morwen tucked a warm wool blanket around him that she had ordered one of her maidens to fetch while her husband and the Elf had talked.

There was light laughter at that and Thandir bowed to Thengel and gave Théoden a smile. "Your wish is my command, Thengel King." He paused long enough to take a sip of wine from the goblet that Aragorn had quietly topped for him while he was speaking to Thengel. "As I said, we stayed long enough to clean ourselves off, watch the village burn completely to the ground and take some rest. We set out at dawn the following morn, leaving the horses behind, for we knew we could travel more swiftly without them. Elladan and Elrohir I made to cross the Isen and check the west bank in the event Gilhael reached that side whilst the rest of us scouted the east bank. It was nearly three days before we found our first sign of the Dúnadan...."

*****

"Here."

It was Gilgirion who found the first sign. Thandir loped over to where the scout was crouching by the riverbank. Gilgirion looked up at Thandir’s approach, handing him a scrap of material. Thandir took it and gave it a cursory glance. "His tunic," he said, identifying the material.

Gilgirion nodded, pointing to a clump of reeds that separated them from the river itself. "Snagged on these, but there’s no way to tell for how long and if he was still alive at the time."

Thandir nodded. Celegrýn came up to them, staring at the piece of cloth in Thandir’s hand before gazing across the river. Elladan was visible further downstream but Elrohir was not in sight. The scout gave a piercing whistle and was pleased to see the heir of Elrond stop and head back. Of Elrohir there was still no sign and the older scout frowned with impatience.

"Elrohir’s gone missing again," he said quietly to his two companions. Gilgirion grinned and Thandir merely shook his head.

"Tell Elladan what we’ve found," he commanded. "I’m going to go back upstream for about a mile and recheck the area. Gilgirion, do the same downstream. We’ll meet back here." The scout nodded and set off without another word, while Thandir turned to Celegrýn, his expression grim. "If and when the younger Elrondion ever shows up, tell him he’s got kitchen duty for the next three days... every meal."

Celegrýn grinned, for Elrohir was notorious among the denizens of Imladris for hating to cook, though he was in fact a better one than his twin. "Perhaps this time he has an actual excuse," he offered slyly.

Thandir merely snorted, unconvinced, and without another word set off to the north, even as Elladan came parallel to them from the other side of the Isen. He heard Celegrýn calling out to the younger Elf about the scrap of fabric that Gilgirion had found as he loped away, putting the twins from his mind as he concentrated on finding additional clues to Gilhael’s fate. That scrap of cloth was the first clue they had found since leaving the ruined village. Already they were well inside the Westmark, though the nearest village was still two days away. He hoped that the Dúnadan had survived long enough to get that far and obtain help. He was not sanguine about it though and dreaded having to return to Helm’s Deep with the Man’s body, or not even that. Estel was obviously devoted to his older cousin and not just because he was his Chieftain.

The Elf scoured the bank, checking every reed and rock as he made his way back along their route. It had been a frustrating three days and it looked not to be any better the further south they went. He resisted a sigh as he thought about their journey. Elrohir had been moody and nonresponsive from the moment they set out. It was one reason he had sent the twins to the other side of the Isen — he didn’t want the distraction. At one point during their trek Elrohir simply walked away from them without a word and headed west towards a clump of trees, disappearing into them and not emerging for nearly three hours. Elladan gave the other three scouts an apologetic look but said nothing. Thandir and the others decided to ignore the twins. The three of them had been traveling together for so long, they barely needed to speak to one another. They really did not need the Elrondionnath with them.

"They should have continued with their mission to Círdan," Thandir muttered to himself as he rose from his crouch to continue on his way, only to find Elrohir standing on the opposite bank, a broken arrow in his hand.

"Then you would’ve missed this, had we done so," the younger Elf said in a neutral tone.

Thandir raised an eyebrow at the other ellon’s tone. He motioned with his hand. "Come to me, elfling," he said, his expression brooking no dissent. Elrohir stood for a moment before tucking the arrow into his belt and then pointing upstream. "It’s shallower about a quarter mile up where the willows come down to the river. I’ll meet you there."

Thandir nodded and waited for Elrohir to lope off before following him, keeping him in sight, an arrow loosely nocked. If Elrohir were going to try and disappear again, Thandir would shoot him. Elladan would hate him forever after, he was sure, no matter how minor the injury to his brother, but Thandir decided he could live with that. Elrohir’s attitude of late was beginning to annoy the older Elf and he wasn’t putting up with it any longer.

They came to the spot Elrohir had mentioned in a few short minutes and even as Thandir reached it, Elrohir was making his way across. ‘Shallower’ was a relative term, for the river was running swift with autumnal rains from the mountains and Elrohir was dripping with water by the time he reached the east bank. Thandir pulled him up.

"Show me," he commanded without preamble.

Elrohir pulled the arrow, or what was left of it, out and handed it to Thandir. It was the shaft of the arrow, fletched with black feathers as was typical of orc arrows.

"He was alive long enough to break the shaft off," Elrohir offered, his expression still blank.

"He may still be dead if the arrowhead was covered with poison," Thandir cautioned, staring at the arrowshaft and not really paying attention to the other ellon.

"Won’t be the first time."

That caught Thandir’s attention and he looked up into dead eyes and nodded, but more to himself than to Elrohir, understanding now what was wrong with this particular Elrondion. He tucked the shaft into his belt and gestured to the younger ellon. "Let’s go join the rest. You’re cooking dinner tonight by the way."

Elrohir stood there for a moment, then shook his head. "No," he said tonelessly, then without another word jumped into the river and made his way back across, disappearing into the stand of willows. Thandir, feeling frustrated, had gone so far as to raise his bow, but knew he could never shoot Elrond’s youngest. Not only would Lord Elrond look unkindly at that but Glorfindel would take particular delight in teaching him the meaning of pain from the inside out, regardless of the fact that they were friends. He sighed and lowered the bow as Elrohir made it to the other bank. Shaking his head, he took off back to where the others were waiting for him, thinking about the Captain of the Guards of Imladris and their curious relationship.

He and Glorfindel were of an age with one another, both scions of Noldorin nobility, though Glorfindel was probably closer to the Noldorin royal family than he. The ironic thing, of course, was that their two families hated each other. Thandir chuckled at that thought. He wondered what his adar would think if he knew that his only son now took orders from the son of his hated rival. Yet, so much had changed with the Rebellion. He stopped, his thoughts taking a strange turn.

It was the Helcaraxë that changed them. He and Glorfindel had eagerly joined the Rebellion under the banners of Lord Arafinwë and his sons, but the antagonism of their respective families proved too much and Glorfindel had attached himself to Turucáno’s banner, leaving Thandir to follow Lord Findaráto. Yet, in spite of their initial mistrust of one another, each had had the opportunity to save the life of the other during the Crossing and while they never became friends (at least then), they had done what none of their elders had been able to do: they had made peace between themselves.

When, centuries later, news came to him of Glorfindel’s death as he helped succor the refugees from fallen Gondolin, Thandir had wept. When, nearly thirteen hundred years later, Glorfindel had stepped upon the quay at Mithlond and made his way to Gil-galad’s court, Thandir had wept again, though for different reasons....

Upon entering Aran Gil-galad’s court and seeing Thandir standing in attendance beside Lord Celeborn, Glorfindel smiled so brilliantly, his joy so completely unadulterated, that Thandir did not know where to look and felt unaccountably ashamed. He only looked up when he felt Glorfindel take him into his arms and give him the kiss of one kinsman to another.

"I’m glad to see a familiar face, Cousin," the golden-haired ellon whispered to him. Then he stepped back, giving him a searching look. "Art thou mine enemy?" he said unexpectedly, asking the question he had asked Thandir all those centuries past when neither knew if they would survive the frozen hell which they were crossing.

Thandir shook his head and then did the only thing he could think of: he knelt before this Reborn ellon, offering Glorfindel his knife. "If thou seest an enemy before thee, lord, let him be slain," he whispered the words he had said all those long yéni ago. "Yet if in thy heart thou seest a friend, let this knife be witness to our pledge of amity."

For a long moment Glorfindel did not move and Thandir was acutely aware of Gil-galad’s court looking on with undisguised curiosity at the tableau before them. Then Glorfindel took the knife from Thandir’s hands and with a single motion sliced his palm before returning the knife to its owner. Without breaking eye contact with Glorfindel, Thandir sliced his own palm and then they joined hands.

"Let the Valar be our witnesses that in the mingling of our blood I see naught but a friend before me," Glorfindel intoned softly, a gentle smile on his face.

"As do I," Thandir said, repeating the same words he had spoken under the silent regard of the shimmering curtains of light that were ever present in their trek across the Ice. Then Glorfindel pulled him up into a tight embrace again and Thandir wept....

Thandir gave himself a mental shake and smiled at nothing in particular. He and Glorfindel had gone on to forge a lasting friendship and he felt no shame in his feelings for the Reborn ellon. He gladly served Imladris under its Captain and Seneschal and he found himself grinning at the thought of just what his adar would say about that should he ever learn of it.

He moved on and when he reached the spot where he had left Celegrýn, he saw that Gilgirion was back as well. The ellon looked up as Thandir approached, shaking his head at his captain’s unspoken question. Elladan was also there, having crossed from the other side after checking downriver as he’d been instructed. He, too, had nothing to report. Thandir pulled out the arrowshaft and showed them. "Elrohir found it," he said, then gave Elladan a piercing look. "Your brother disobeyed a direct order from me," he said coldly. "Go find him and bring him here. He was working his way through a stand of willows a quarter of a mile up. We’ll establish camp for the night over by those trees." He pointed to a copse of oak and birch and maple that lay several hundred yards to the southeast.

Elladan’s expression was one of surprise which quickly turned to resignation. He nodded and loped away, his shoulders sagging in defeat. Elrohir’s actions of late were beginning to wear on his twin. Celegrýn and Gilgirion watched the younger Elf move silently away then turned to Thandir with concerned expressions.

"It’s bad, isn’t it?" Celegrýn asked.

Thandir nodded. "I haven’t seen his eyes so dead in... in centuries," he said and sighed as the other two ellyn grimaced at one another. All knew the killing spree the Elrondionnath had gone on after Lady Celebrían had sailed. Thandir had been tempted to join them, but with two elflings to care for and comfort he could not afford the luxury. Thank the Valar Glorfindel had been able to reach the sons of Elrond eventually and turn them around though it had taken nearly two hundred years to do it. Giving himself a mental shake, he pointed to the copse. "Let’s set up camp."

Elladan arrived with Elrohir in tow by the time they had a fire going. The twins were silent, greeting no one. Elrohir plopped down several ducks, already dressed and spitted. Gilgirion looked up from where he was tending the fire with a smile.

"For me?" he asked coyly.

Elladan gave the scout a jaundiced look; Elrohir just crouched down without saying a word, taking the tripod and setting it up and replacing the stake they had used to carry their catch with the metal one so the ducks were above the fire. Celegrýn sat back, his eyes hooded as he watched Elrohir silently begin preparing their meal, never looking up or acknowledging anyone else’s presence. He glanced up at Elladan, who was still standing by his twin. Elladan just shook his head, then walked away to report to Thandir....

****

"Ada, what was wrong with El... I mean, Lord Elrohir?" Théoden asked suddenly, looking at his father in confusion.

"I do not know, my son," Thengel answered quietly. "Perhaps Lord Elrohir will tell us."

Théoden gazed at the Elf in question, his expression quizzical. Elrohir gazed back with equanimity, his expression neither forbidding nor inviting. The young prince looked up at his father and sighed. "I don’t think Lord Elrohir is in a talkative mood tonight, Ada," he said in a forlorn whisper and cast a surprised look around when light laughter rang through the hall. He saw Elrohir smiling and the Elf gestured to him.

"Come here, Théoden Prince," the younger Elrondion said.

With a glance at his parents for permission, Théoden slid off Thengel’s lap and went to stand before the dark-haired ellon. All could see that the boy was struggling not to look nervous or frightened, though his wide-eyed look betrayed him. Elrohir gave him a warm smile and laid a hand gently on the boy’s shoulder, gazing into his eyes.

"Do you know what pain is, Théoden Prince?" Elrohir asked.

Théoden blinked, not expecting such a question and could only nod.

"Do you know what it feels like to have pain in your heart, in your soul?" the ellon asked quietly.

Théoden looked down, shuffling his slippered feet against the rushes. When he spoke it was barely above a whisper. "When th-they killed the man who... who rescued me and I never learned his name..." He looked up at Elrohir, his blue eyes troubled. "I never learned...."

Elrohir took the boy into his embrace and held him tightly, rubbing his back to comfort him. Thengel and Morwen both made to rise to go to their grieving child but Elrohir shook his head, continuing to hold the young prince until his sobs quieted.

"Then you will understand some of what I will say to you, child," Elrohir whispered to him, though in the silence of the hall all heard him. Elrohir turned the boy around and sat him on his knee. "I was in pain, Théoden," he said, his expression mournful. "Not pain of the body, but pain of the spirit afflicted me."

"Wh-why?" Théoden asked, sniffling and wiping his nose on the sleeve of his robe, much to his mother’s dismay. Elrohir smiled and took the bit of cloth Elladan handed him and gave it to Théoden who used it to wipe the tears from his face.

"I lost my mother...."

There was an audible gasp from the listeners and the other Elves, Elladan especially, went so still they could have been statues. Théoden, however, was concentrating solely on Elrohir and what he was saying.

"That’s sad," he commented, wondering what it would be like to lose his mother, but the thought skittered across his consciousness and he let it go, unwilling to face such a possibility yet.

"Yes, it is," Elrohir agreed. "She was poisoned by orcs and we had to send her to the Undying Lands to be healed."

"Did she get better?"

Elrohir shook his head. "I don’t know, child," he said softly. "None who sail to the Undying Lands ever return. My family and I can only hope that the Valar were able to heal her where we could not, but every time I must fight orcs I remember the pain I felt when we found her and the pain I felt when we watched her sail away. Do you understand?"

Théoden nodded. "It makes you sad."

Elrohir glanced at Thandir and then Elladan before answering. "Yes, it makes me sad."

Théoden gave Elrohir a considering look and the Elrondion could see in those piercing blue eyes the man this young boy would some day become. "You’re not sad now, though," the prince commented. "What changed?"

Now Elrohir actually laughed. "Thandir put the fear of the Valar in me."

The other Elves chuckled at that and Théoden gave the Elf captain a frown before turning back to Elrohir. Then he gave Elrohir a wicked little smile and leaned over to whisper conspiratorially into his ear, though they could all hear. "Nana does the same thing with Ada when he won’t behave."

"Théoden!" Morwen exclaimed in dismay, but Thengel merely laughed and gave his son a wink. Théoden wore a smug smile as he sat there on Elrohir’s lap while all around him was laughter. Elrohir, everyone noticed, laughed the loudest.

"So what happened?" Aragorn asked, smiling at the sight of his brother with Théoden. It reminded him of when he was the boy’s age and the way his two brothers would comfort him at times. 

Elrohir gave his Mortal brother a smile. "As to that..." he nodded to Thandir.

"Yes," Thandir said looking sternly at Théoden, "if his Highness is finished interrogating Lord Elrohir?"

Théoden gulped and gave the Elf a chagrined look. "Sorry."

"Don’t be, youngling," Elrohir said with a smile. "Thandir just likes to hear himself talk, so your interruption was quite welcome. Now, why don’t you sit here between my brother and me and we’ll pretend we’re very interested in what Thandir has to say, shall we?"

Thandir gave him a scowl, which was ignored, while Théoden nodded. Elladan pulled the boy off Elrohir’s lap and placed him on the bench between them, removing his cloak and wrapping it around the boy’s shoulders, giving him a fond smile. The solicitousness and tenderness with which the two Peredhil fussed over their prince did not go unnoticed by the Rohirrim and many an opinion about these strange visitors was revised towards the favorable at the sight of these Elf-lords treating Théoden like a younger sibling.

Thandir waited until the Elrondionnath had settled Théoden to their liking before continuing. "So, where was I?" he said rhetorically to his audience.

"Cooking dinner," Aragorn supplied facetiously with a smile.

Thandir gave him a short laugh. "No, Elrohir was cooking dinner. I think the ducks were meant to be a peace offering, and a very tasty peace offering they were, too." Everyone laughed at his smug expression. "At any rate," he continued when the laughter had died down, "I knew we could not continue on our course until and unless whatever was eating at Elrohir was resolved....

****

"Elrohir, walk with me."

Elrohir looked up from where he was licking the last of the grease from his fingers to see Thandir standing over him, his expression neutral. The younger son of Elrond resisted a sigh, wiped his hands on a scrap of cloth and rose gracefully to stand beside the older Elf. As much as he desired to refuse Thandir’s command he knew he could not, indeed dared not. Thandir was as much his superior as Glorfindel and no one ever refused Glorfindel anything, at least, not after the first time.

Without another word, Thandir moved away from their encampment, walking towards the river in the early dusk. The nights were colder now, though neither Elf felt it. Still, stepping away from the warmth and light of the fire into the cold and dark of the Westmarkland steppes was something of a shock and both Elves drew in a deep breath. Thandir continued walking to the river, the waters rushing away south into the gloaming. When they reached the bank, Thandir stopped and for several minutes he neither moved nor spoke. Elrohir forced himself not to exhibit any sign of impatience, for Glorfindel had taught him well. Then, without any warning, Thandir turned to the peredhel, grabbed him by the placket of his tunic and threw him into the river.

"Wha...!" Elrohir’s cry was drowned out by the sound of the splash he made. Thandir never moved, merely waited for the younger ellon to come to the surface, which he did, sputtering and shouting invectives in several languages, including, surprisingly, Orkish. The current had taken him several yards further downstream before he surfaced and made his way to the east bank, climbing out and heading back towards Thandir.

"What by all that’s holy was that for?" Elrohir shouted as he neared the other Elf, his expression of anger less effective than he would have liked with his dark hair plastered in front of his eyes and his feet making squelching noises that sounded to Thandir’s ears almost obscene.

"Feeling better or should I throw you in again?" Thandir asked, sounding almost bored.

Elrohir stopped and stared at the Noldo and had the uncanny feeling he was looking into Glorfindel’s eyes, though his were a bluer-grey than Thandir’s. He shivered and not just from the dunking he’d gotten, for the Isen was running cold with mountain run-off and even an Elf would feel its bite. He swiped futilely at his dripping hair, the braids all awry and felt his anger deflating. He stared at his feet and sighed. "Sorry," he finally said. "It won’t happen again."

For a long moment Thandir remained silent, then he nodded. "Go dry off. You have first watch."

Elrohir bowed, still not looking at Thandir, then went back to the fire where, unbeknown to him, Celegrýn and Gilgirion had had to hold Elladan down when they heard Elrohir’s shout and then the splash. They were just getting off Elladan’s chest when Elrohir arrived, refusing to look at anyone. Elladan wisely refrained from asking what had happened, for it was obvious to them all. The younger son of Elrond went to his bags, pulled out dry clothing, changed, and then grabbed his sword and bow and quiver to take up his sentry post.

Thandir returned several hours later to relieve him....

****

"You got thrown into the river?" Théoden asked with an incredulous look.

Elrohir smiled at the boy and nodded. "It worked too," he said. The rest of the hall stared at Thandir with a mixture of incredulity and amazement and not a few were very happy they would never have to be disciplined by an Elf-lord, whatever their faults.

"So after that?" Aragorn asked, taking a sip of his ale, clearly enjoying the tale.

"After that, we continued our hunt, staying close to the river," Thandir replied. "Two days later we found ourselves on the outskirts of a village wondering if we would find our... quarry" — he gave Gilhael a brief smile — "at last or if we would have to travel further afield."

"And that’s where I come in again," Gilhael exclaimed, standing up. "This next part of the tale is mine to tell."

"Then let us pause for a few minutes to stretch our legs and fill our tankards before hearing your tale, Tungolfród," Thengel suggested, taking his own advice and standing. "We will resume in fifteen minutes."

The announcement was welcomed by all and for the next several minutes people stood and stretched, some leaving to relieve themselves, others raiding the kitchen for additional food. Morwen went to where Théoden was nestled half asleep against Elrohir.

"He should be in his bed, my lord," she said softly, running a hand through her son's dark golden locks. Théoden never stirred.

"Perhaps, lady," Elrohir replied with a smile, "but I think he will waken if we try to move him now and then he will only insist on remaining to hear the rest of the tale."

"We’ll see to him, lady," Elladan said to Morwen. "It’ll be like old times." He gave his brother a bright smile which Elrohir returned. Then the two looked past Morwen with fond expressions on their fair faces.

Morwen turned to see the object of their regard and saw Aragorn speaking companionably to Wídfara. She gave them a shrewd look but when they turned their immortal gazes upon her she merely smiled and nodded. "That is well, then. I thank you, my lords." She looked up and saw Thengel returning to his own seat. "Ah, I believe the entertainment is about to begin again. If you’ll excuse me, my lords?"

The twins chuckled and bowed their heads gracefully as Morwen gave them an abbreviated and somewhat awkward curtsey due to her condition and returned to her husband’s side. Everyone else soon settled in their seats, their expressions eager and attentive as Gilhael returned to the center of the hall to resume his narrative.

****

Ascantun: (Rohirric/Anglo-Saxon) Thandir is making a slight play on words between Æsctun "Ash-tree village" and Ascantun "(Burnt)-ashes village".

Peredhil: (Sindarin) Plural of Peredhel: Half-Elf. Technically speaking, Elrond’s children were not considered Elves though they enjoyed the benefits of the Firstborn. They, like their father, were Half-elven and their fate was dependent upon the ultimate choice they would have to make. Arwen made the choice of Lúthien and shares the fate of the Secondborn; Tolkien never clearly states what choice her brothers made, but it is believed that they were permitted to delay their choice until after Arwen’s death. Until the choice was made, however, the children of Elrond were counted among the Firstborn and treated as such.





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