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inzilbethHappy belated birthday Cairistiona
Disclaimer: No profit will be made from these stories. All quotes from the works of J.R.R.Tolkien are reproduced here without the permission of The Tolkien Estate or New Line Cinema. No copyright infringement is intended.
To Cairistiona and Estelcontar: my most grateful thanks for their ongoing encouragement and support.
And thanks to Cairistiona for the beta.
Chapter 29: The Palantir
I am the lawful master of the stone, and I had both the right and the strength to use it, or so I judged. The right cannot be doubted. The strength was enough – barely.
The Passing of the Grey Company The Return of the King
Aragorn collapsed in a heap on the floor of the Hornburg, Anduril falling noisily beside him. As he broke contact with the Stone, the daggers jabbing mercilessly into his head and eyes lessened their agonising assault, but he could scarcely breathe for the searing pain raging through him. He held his hands to his face, shielding his eyes as he instinctively raised his knees protectively in front of him, curling his body into a ball.
Halbarad immediately was at his side, his face white with terror. He grabbed his chieftain and flung his arms around him. Aragorn was shaking violently and gasping for air. He muttered nonsense to himself and seemed not to heed Halbarad at all. Sweat poured down his face and his clothes were drenched.
“Aragorn! Aragorn!” Halbarad was terrified. He tried frantically to rouse his kinsman. He pulled Aragorn’s hands away from his face so as to look into his eyes and stared anxiously into the half open lids for many moments, searching for any sign that Aragorn knew him. Eventually, to his relief, the wild eyes slowly focused upon him.
“I am all right,” Aragorn managed to croak in a voice barely above a whisper. “But I feel so weak.”
Halbarad thought he had never seen him looking less all right in his entire life.
“Aragorn, what happened? Tell me, please.” But all he got from his chieftain was a request for water. Halbarad reached for a skin and, removing the bung with his teeth, guided the lip to Aragorn’s mouth. He gulped thirstily. Once he had drunk his fill, his eyes closed again and Halbarad continued to hold him as he drifted in and out of consciousness. Gradually Aragorn’s shaking lessened, but now he felt cold to the touch as his sweat began to chill him. Halbarad removed his own cloak and wrapped it around him before taking him back into his arms. He was desperately worried though, for Aragorn’s sake, he did his best to squash his rising panic and remain outwardly calm. He wondered if he should call for the Sons of Elrond, but, after what seemed an eternity, Aragorn spoke again.
“I have no strength left, Halbarad, I must rest,” he said, though he struggled to force out the words out. “But only for a few minutes. Please, promise me, you’ll not let me lie here beyond that. I have much to think upon and choices need to be made before we depart tomorrow.”
Halbarad nodded though, from Aragorn’s fragile state, he did not think a mere few minutes would be anything like sufficient rest. “Very well, my friend,” he said gently though his throat seized with emotion as he spoke. “I will be right here, should you need me.”
He carefully eased his chieftain down onto the stone floor and pulled his cloak tighter around him. When he was satisfied Aragorn was as comfortable as he could make him, he sat down beside him and leant back, resting his head against the stone wall of the chamber. But he kept his eyes firmly fixed upon Aragorn, carefully watching the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest as his breathing slowly returned to normal.
He did not even attempt to seek rest himself. He was far too shaken by all that he had witnessed. He could feel his own heart pounding in his chest and sweat had broken on his brow in spite of the chill of the night air up in that high tower. As he sought to calm his own fraught nerves, he struggled to made sense of all that had happened.
Less than an hour ago, he had dutifully stood, watching, as Aragorn had uncovered the Palantir and, with one hand clasping Anduril to his chest, had laid the other upon the stone. With mounting horror, he had watched helplessly as Aragorn became removed from him, and disappeared into a trance where he seemingly did battle with an unseen foe. His face had twisted and contorted as one suffering unspeakable agony. Halbarad had screamed at him, calling his name frantically, but Aragorn had been beyond hearing anything. As his torment had increased, Halbarad had been at a complete loss as to what to do. In the end, he had done nothing and now he wonder if perhaps he should have attempted to separate him from that accursed stone. Aragorn had told him earlier he might need him to do just that. But had that been the need of which he spoke? He did not know. Aragorn was dabbling in things outside his reckoning. Eventually he had managed to wrench himself away and break free of whatever it was that had seized him so cruelly. But if any lasting injury had befallen him, Halbarad could not yet tell. Thankfully he seemed peaceful enough at the moment.
He reached out and gently laid his hand on the quiet form beside him. That was good; he was resting now. Perhaps when he had shaken off some of this crippling fatigue, he would speak more of the strange and dreadful experience he had just endured. Halbarad could not begin to guess what choices had to be made in the morning, but right now he could think of nothing beyond the wellbeing of his chieftain.
He had to marvel at the bravery of his lord in attempting to do this thing. Challenging the might of Sauron was an act of courage greater than any of the noble deeds he had witnessed from Aragorn over the years. Even without the presence of the evil eye, the prospect of looking into the Palantír alone would be enough to deter most men. Earlier, as they had climbed the steps to that high chamber, Halbarad had argued forcibly against indulging in such a foolish action. He now rather regretted not having protested more vehemently. But Aragorn had been adamant he knew what he was doing.
“The Stone is rightfully mine, Hal,” he had said. “Did not all seven of the Palantíri once belong to Elendil; gifts to his father from the Elves of Tol Eressëa? As his heir, this Stone is mine by right. If any has a hope of bending it to his will, then it is I.” But Halbarad had not failed to notice how he hesitated before adding in a quiet voice: “I only hope my strength will prove to be enough.”
He had remained unconvinced. Halbarad had already heard that one of the hobbits had attempted to look in this thing and had narrowly avoided disaster. “But Aragorn, are you quite sure this is wise? I don’t mean to doubt you, my friend, but it is a huge risk you are taking.”
“I am not being feckless,” Aragorn had replied, using that tone which always served to remain Halbarad exactly which of them was the chieftain. “Our need is great; such risks I must take.”
“But you don’t know how to use it?” Halbarad had countered, quite undaunted. “Sauron may not have the right, as such, to use the stone in his possession, but, from what you have discovered about Saruman, it would seem he has been using it for a considerable time. Surely, that will count for much in any battle of wills with him.”
“It might aid him, yes,” Aragorn had conceded before rather pointedly adding: “but, as you may recall, Halbarad, many years ago, I did once travel to Emyn Beraid with the intent of learning just this skill.”
Halbarad might have smiled at this example of the meticulous dedication to his preparations that Aragorn had lent to all his efforts during his long years in waiting had it not been that he was so troubled by what Aragorn was proposing to do.
“And as I recall, you spoke very little about that visit upon your return.” Halbarad had not forgotten that the experience had obviously troubled him. He had, though, privately conceded that if anyone could bend the Seeing Stone to his will, it would be his chieftain. He resorted to a different argument.
“Did you not tell me earlier that even Gandalf cautioned you against using it? And when, in all the years you have known the Wizard, have you ever ignored his council?”
A flicker of doubt had appeared on Aragorn’s face and Halbarad had felt triumphant, but his success proved short-lived as almost immediately it was replaced by the same steely determination of before.
“Never have I gone against Gandalf’s advice. I value his wisdom above that of any other, as you well know, but in this I belief I am right and that the Stone has come to me now for just such a purpose.”
He had suddenly looked rather incredulous.
“He bowed to me, Hal, as he presented it, and he called me ‘lord’. Never has he done that before.” But then his face had hardened into a grim smile and there was a deadly cold gleam in his eye that scared even his closest friend. “No, I will heed my own council in this. I do not seek the Dark Lord willingly, but I deem the time has at last come to reveal to him my true nature and so may the sword of Elendil strike fear into his black heart.”
~oo0oo~
Time passed. How much, Halbarad could not tell; half an hour perhaps, no more. He so wanted to allow Aragorn to rest, but he know he would be less than pleased if he ignored his instruction to not let him lie for long. Halbarad gently rocked what he supposed was Aragorn’s arm through the blanket. Immediately his chieftain was awake. He rolled over onto his back and stared at Halbarad blankly for a moment.
“I had an awful dream,” he said in a voice barely more than a whisper. “At least I had hoped it was a dream, but, now that I wake, I fear it was not.”
“What was this dream?” Halbarad wished with his all his heart that what Aragorn had just experienced was truly only that.
Aragorn did not answer, but pushed himself up onto his elbows. He looked about him, frowning. “The Palantír: where is it?” he asked.
“Over there,” said Halbarad, pointing to the large sphere across the room covered by Aragorn's cloak which he had roughly thrown over it to hide the terrible fire burning within.
Aragorn sighed and sat up properly, drawing his knees to his chest before burying his head in his hands. He sat there motionless for so long, Halbarad began to worry again. He picked up the waterskin and offered it to him.
“Drink?”
Slowly Aragorn pulled his hands from his face and took the skin. Halbarad was shaken by how badly they trembled. While Aragorn drank, he got to his feet and folded back the shutters; the bleak room seemed very gloomy suddenly and dawn must have broken hours ago. Suddenly, in the bright light, he could see Aragorn’s face clearly and he was shocked by what he saw. He looked exhausted, ill even. Overnight he had aged decades and had become haggard like an old man. His skin was grey and dull and his eyes sunken into their sockets.
“Aragorn,” he said softly. “What has happened to you, my friend? You look terrible.”
Aragorn managed a trace of a smile. “I feel terrible,” he said. “Oh, Hal, that was not like the last time, but still it could have been worse.” And then he did smile. “I did at least survive, though never would I willingly do that again.”
“I’m relieved to hear it,” said Halbarad forcing a laugh, “but may I ask what precisely it was you saw in that thing?” He was not at all sure he wanted to hear the answer. He was quite convinced he was going to have nightmares about this night as it was.
“Too much,” said Aragorn as he put down the water skin and covered his face once again. It seemed an age before he removed his hands and continued his tale. “I saw the Dark Lord standing there before me and he was terrible to behold. At first I tried to pull away, but I could not. I could hear his voice in my head though he spoke no words, and the pain; oh, Hal, never have I under rated the Enemy, but the Dark Lord’s evil is boundless. He must not have the victory, he really must not. He would devour and destroy everything that we hold dear.”
Aragorn’s words were a chilling reminder to Halbarad of all that was at stake, but at that moment, he was far more concerned about what had passed between these two vastly different lords as they had strived for the mastery of the Stone.
“But did he know who you were?” Halbarad had to know. After a lifetime of keeping his chieftain secret he still could not quite believe Aragorn had acted so rashly.
“Yes, he knew me,” said Aragorn and that same cold gleam Halbarad had seen earlier appeared in his eyes again. “I left him in no doubt that I ride to Minas Tirith to challenge him.”
Halbarad sat for a moment in stunned silence. At last he found his voice. “Just so I fully grasp your meaning,” he said slowly, wanting to be absolutely certain he understood aright though still holding out a hope that he might be mistaken. “He now knows you to be who exactly?”
“Why Isildur’s Heir, of course.”
“Of course,” said Halbarad as he struggled to find the right words to fully express his shock and consternation at this turn of events. However the deadly gaze in Aragorn’s eye caused him to refrain from expressing an opinion on his chieftain’s wisdom in revealing this rather important piece of information to the Enemy.
“No doubt you had your reasons,” was all he actually said, though as Aragorn looked so dreadful he hoped he had not lost his senses.
But Aragorn smiled at him. “It’s all right Hal, my doing this was not without thought. I have given him reason to be troubled and that may yet prove advantageous to our cause. Mighty he undoubtedly is, but I felt his fear, Hal, I actually felt it. Now he will not hesitate to bring his full strength swiftly to where he deems it will hurt me the most.”
Halbarad’s shock was rapidly turning to panic. “And you deem this to be a good thing?” He was really worrying about Aragorn’s sanity now.
“You forget, Hal, what I told you earlier of the Halflings. Even now, Frodo and his servant are slowly making their way towards Mordor with the One Ring of the Enemy which they intend to destroy in the flames of
“I see,” said Halbarad, not greatly comforted by the prospect of becoming a decoy.
But then the steely gaze left Aragorn’s eye and Halbarad noticed he looked troubled.
“But we must move swiftly to counter him. I saw more than just the face of the Enemy in that Stone. Eventually I managed to wrest control of it from him though the battle has left me more weary than I have ever known. But once I had the mastery of it, I used it to my advantage though I confess, what it revealed has greatly disturbed me. I saw in the Stone that a vast fleet of enemy ships is preparing to descend upon Minas Tirith. Even now, the fleet sails for Pelargir and will be the demise of Gondor if it is not stopped.”
“But if I understand things aright, there are none who could stop it,” cried Halbarad in dismay. “The Rohirrim ride for Minas Tirith, that much we know, but will they be there in time to engage such an army? Could you tell, Aragorn, when this fleet will arrive?”
“Soon, very soon, days even.”
“But we’ll never get there in time and even if we were to race like the wind ahead of the host of Rohan, what good would thirty men be against such a force?”
“None, my friend, none at all,” said Aragorn, shaking his head. “But we are Gondor’s only hope and there may yet be a way, though it fills me with dread to even think of it.”
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![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2009-02-01 06:02 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-01 01:35 pm (UTC)I'm sure your story was wonderful.
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Date: 2009-02-02 07:07 am (UTC)