Day 31: Valinor

Challenge: "Against stupidity the gods themselves contend in vain."

-Friedrich Schiller

Write a story or poem or create artwork that illustrates this quotation.

Epilogue

The two armies faced each other. On one side, a white tree shone from the banners, high and proud – unlike the trees of this country, gnarled and crouching before the face of the sun. They were on the borders of Harad, and the sound reflected on the drawn sabres of the second army. A few banners with the Eye could be seen on that side, but they seemed to be held hesitantly. There was news that the Eye was no more…

Three riders came forth under the banner of the white tree. One of them, with a cloak pin shaped as a many-rayed star, bore the standard. The other had a white swan on his tabard and helmet. The last one… his tabard bore the same sign as was on the banners. His horse walked proudly, and the rider’s eyes were keen and commanding.

“The returned king of Gondor…” a whisper spread on the other side of the battlefield.

The three riders stopped in the middle, and everything silenced.

“I offer you peace!” the King cried out in the language of the Haradhrim. “The Eye is defeated, you don’t have to fight in its name anymore! You can return to your families, and I promise you in the name of Gondor that its armies will not attack if you don’t attack first!”

There was a whisper on the other side of the battlefield, and some of the banners wavered.  They did not expect the northern king would speak their own language, or that he will offer piece for those who fought on the side of the Eye.

But another voice rose over the haradhrim army, and it was full of hatred like the hissing of a snake. “Do not listen to him, sons of Harad! He offers you mercy just to slaughter your children when you turn your back to him! Do not listen to him! Attack!”

Arrows whistled in the air, and the three men turned their horses, desperately trying to get back to the army of Gondor. The two armies rode against each other. As Aragorn reached the first lines, and turned his horse, he shook his head in frustration. Why did there always have to be someone like this? Someone like Nazim – he remembered the times when he walked under the hot sun of Harad as Thorongil. Nazim was long dead, but it seemed that many such Nazims walked under the sun, not only in Harad, but everywhere.

-oOo-

The Haradhrim were scattered, the Gondorians pressing them back and forcing to defend themselves instead of attacking. The battle was lost for Harad, but still they fought, for their homes and honour.

“Enough! Retreat!” a clear voice rose over the battlefield, over the cries and clang of steel. To the wonder of the Haradhrim, the gondorian army immediately obeyed the order and pulled back, despite having the upper hand in the fight.

“Listen to me, men of Harad!” the king of Gondor rode forwards again. There was a fresh cut on his cheek, but otherwise he was uninjured. Again he spoke in their own language. “The offer of peace still stands! Do not fear for your families! They will be safe, and you will remain free men if you accept it!”

The battlefield grew silent. Aragorn closed his eyes for a moment, fearing another snake voice that would cost even more lives. He killed the man himself, but one never knows where and when another Nazim can be found.

When no such voice sounded, he sighed in relief. Instead, a young man stepped forth. “We accept the offer,” he said clearly. “May there be peace between our lands.” Aragorn bowed his head, and sheathed his sword. The rest of the gondorian army followed his example, and so did the Haradhrim.

-oOo-

The wounded have been tended to in one place, both Haradhrim and Gondorians. Aragorn aided those who needed his help most, without regards on the banner they followed in the fight. After all of them have been tended to – and Imrahil, who insisted to clean the cut on his cheek also got what he wanted – Aragorn went to look for the young man who spoke for the Haradhrim. There was something familiar in his eyes…

When he finally found him, and saw him from close, he had to smile to himself. The likeliness was obvious. Black eyes like burning coals… “Do you know a man named Kadar?” Aragorn asked.

The young man looked up in surprise.  “Kadar is the name of my grandfather, but I don’t know how you could hear of him…”

Aragorn almost held his breath, when he asked: “Is your grandfather still alive?” It was more than forty years ago, after all…

The man shook his head, puzzled that the King of Gondor might know his grandfather. “He is very old, and does not ride with us anymore, but he tells amazing stories...” He frowned, and looked at Aragorn as if wondering about some wild thought.

-oOo-

“Imrahil, tell Faramir and my lady that I will be away for a few days. Tell them they shouldn’t worry for me.”

Imrahil frowned, regarding his king, who was dressed like a simple traveller. What more, as a haradhrim traveller – a nomad, if he remembered the word correctly. “But my Lord, where are you going? Allow me at least to send an escort with you!”

Aragorn wanted to refuse, but then he thought for a moment. He was a king now, and could not travel alone as he wished. He will miss those times, he realized. “Very well,” he sighed. “But let them dress in the manner of this land. I don’t want to bring attention to myself.”

Imrahil shook his head. “But where are you going? What should I tell your lady?”

Aragorn smiled. “Tell her I’m going to visit an old friend…”