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Aspects of Aragorn 6 "The Wizard's Pupil" part 2
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 Cairstiona and Estelcontar I offer my most grateful thanks for their ongoing encouragement and support.
And thanks to Cairstiona for the beta.
Chapter 6 part 2 “The Wizard's Pupil”
Gandalf stayed at Rivendell for a week, resting from his journeys and taking counsel with Elrond. They did not speak of Estel again until the night before Gandalf was due to depart. They were sitting once more in the Hall of Fire.
“I have been giving some thought to the question of your young Dunadan,” said Gandalf, shifting himself in his seat to face the full warmth of the flames. “When we meet, I think I should encourage him to travel with me for a bit; see a little more of the world. I agree with you, he can not learn all he must from among his own people alone. He needs to understand all men, the good as well as the evil. Also I think it would be beneficial for him to serve a foreign lord so he may learn to command large numbers of men if needs must. The Dunedain are too few, and I expect too well disposed towards him, to give him that kind of experience. Do you not think so, Elrond?”
Elrond was rather taken by surprise at this and so was silent for a while. Somehow the thought of his child leading an army chilled him. Grown though he may be, child he still was to Elrond. He wondered to what end that army would be heading, and shuddered slightly. But he knew Estel had to follow the path that fate had chosen for him; he could not keep him safe at Rivendell, any more than he could prevent his own sons from pursuing their own doom.
“You are right, Gandalf. He needs experience beyond that which being Chieftain of the Dunedain can provide. Where would you propose to take him? Gondor”
“No, not at first,” said Gandalf. “I thought to make life a little easier for him than that. Perhaps Rohan would be a better place to start. The Rohirrim live more simply than the Gondorians; I think the adjustment needed would be less. Also Thengel King is a kind man and he may be more forgiving of mistakes made in his service than perhaps would be so in Ecthelion’s more regimented host.”
“You have a point, I am sure,” said Elrond, “though I hope we taught him better than to make too many mistakes.”
“I am sure you did,” chuckled Gandalf, “but the boy is still very young. I think we can make the occasional allowance for that.”
Elrond looked at Gandalf, the gratitude showing in his eyes, “I am very glad, Gandalf, that I asked this of you. You reassure me that you are the right person to guide him now. Although he has much to learn he does not have to learn it all at once”
Gandalf lent across to Elrond and placed his hand on his arm. “I will take good care of him, I promise,” he said softly.
“Le hannon, mellon nin,” said Elrond.
~oo0oo~
Gandalf left early the next morning, bidding farewell to all who came to wave him off from the Last Homely House. The twin sons of Elrond had told him the most likely places where he would find Aragorn at this time of the year, so as he set out, he made his way west into the empty lands of Eriador. He travelled the
Gandalf approached the ruins of what had once been a thriving village at dusk on the fifth day since he left Rivendell. He rode forward with caution, ready to be challenged at any moment if there were Rangers in the camp. Sure enough, he had not got within a mile of the ruins when he was commanded to stop. He did as he was instructed and raised his hands away from his weapons.
A voice from somewhere in the hills above him told him to dismount. Gandalf sighed, none too pleased. The voice sounded very young. This was just what he needed after a long day in the saddle. However he did not want to fall foul of a raw recruit who was no doubt only too eager to earn his Star.
“Very well, my young fellow,” he called out as he slowly swung his leg over the saddle, doubting as he did so if he would be able to mount again even if this young ranger permitted it. He stood waiting for what seemed like an age before the voice spoke again. He was too tired for this; his patience was beginning to wear. He was well known among the Dunedain and only expected to acknowledge the sentry and then be on his way.
“What is your business here?” said the voice. It did not sound the same, as if its owner had moved his position, but Gandalf could not begin to guess where that position might be.
“I have business with the Rangers,” said Gandalf rather stiffly, “the exact nature of which I am not about to reveal out here in the open.”
Again there was a long pause. This really was too much.
“Drop your weapons.” The voice spoke again.
Gandalf bristled, but he did not care for the authoritative tone of this young man so he decided not to argue. He placed his sword and arrows on the ground.
“You may continue on foot,” said the voice.
“What of my weapons?” asked Gandalf.
“I will take care of them and return them to you in the morning,” was the reply.
Gandalf just nodded, thinking he would have a few words with this whelp when he did so.
It was nearly dark when he approached the Ranger camp. Fortunately for him, he was recognised by the next person to challenge him. He was welcomed to the fire where supper was being prepared; the smell of something enticing, boiling in the pot, doing much to mellow his mood. It soon became apparent to him that he had timed his arrival well. The Rangers had only just arrived themselves and were not planning to stay long. They had had a difficult patrol in the north where wolves and orcs had become a big problem. However they were satisfied that most of these had been dealt with and they would soon be on their way to the borders of the Shire, for what they hoped would be an easier posting.
There were maybe eighteen or nineteen men that Gandalf could see, so there would be another four or five on watch; a large patrol then. He turned to the man who had welcomed him, an older Ranger called Gunthor.
“Tell me Gunthor, where is your captain for I very much wished to speak with him?” said Gandalf.
“Oh, I’m afraid it’s the captain’s turn to be on watch,” replied Gunthor. “I should get some sleep if I were you as it will be hours before he returns.” Then he quickly added, “that is, of course, unless it is urgent, Gandalf; in which case I will send someone to relieve him right away.”
“No, no, my good man,” said Gandalf, “There is no need for that. Tomorrow will be soon enough.” He did not mention to Gunthor the reason for his visit; the Dunedain had not kept their chieftain a secret all these years only to have him the subject of camp fire gossip. Gandalf soon took his leave of the Rangers and settled himself down for the night in one of the old derelict houses which still worked well enough as a shelter.
The morning dawned bright and fair, though this far north there was a bite to the wind. Gandalf pulled his blanket a little tighter around himself and waited until he could hear the sounds of breakfast being prepared before making a move. Slowly he emerged from his bed roll but, as he wrapped up his pack, he suddenly became aware of a tall young man standing in the broken doorway, scrutinizing him through keen grey eyes. Gandalf straightened, leaving his packing. There was something in the sharpness of that gaze that caught his attention. The young men smiled and bowed his head courteously.
“Good morning sir,” he said, “I trust you are rested from your journey?” It was that voice again, though this time it was friendly and the question sincere, but, Gandalf noticed, that tone was still there.
“I slept well enough, thank you,” he replied briskly. He wondered what, if anything, this young man would say about yesterday evening.
“I am glad,” was the reply. He then turned to reach for something from behind the doorway and said: “I have your weapons for you. I hope you will find them in order.”
Gandalf raised his hands and took the proffered sword and quiver without a word. He inspected them closely. The sword had been cleaned and oiled and the fletching repaired on several of the arrows.
Gandalf grunted. “Well I see you were true to your word. But tell me, do you make all your guests walk to their supper?”
The young man flushed slightly, but the gaze remained level.
“I am sorry,” he said, “I have yet to make the acquaintance of all our allies and I’m afraid caution must always prevail, but I am truly sorry to have treated you thus. I hope you will forgive me.” The boy was so genuinely guileless, Gandalf felt himself thaw towards him.
“Think nothing of it,” he said with a smile. “You did what you had to.”
The young man visibly relaxed. “Thank you,” he said, with just a trace of shyness in his voice. Then he straightened and said: “Gunthor tells me you wished to speak with me. How may I be of assistance to you?”
Gandalf frowned in confusion. He was sure he had not mentioned his irritation with the guard to Gunthor, but he remembered he had asked to speak to their captain. But surely this lad could not be he? Even as the thought invaded Gandalf’s mind, he looked again at the young man, seeing him properly for the first time. He carried himself with an easy confidence and he was taller than any of the other men, and fairer; indeed he looked more like an Elf than any Man Gandalf had seen in a long time. And then there were those intense grey eyes that Gandalf was sure missed nothing. But he was very young. The Dunedain were so few now that he thought he knew all their children, but Gandalf could not place this one. He had definitely been away too long.
“Perhaps we could break our fast together,” he heard the young man say. “I would welcome hearing your news. Come, you have not yet eaten.”
There was that tone again; scrupulously polite, courteous and yet totally in command. Suddenly realisation dawned on Gandalf and he beamed the lad a smile.
“Thank you, my good fellow. I should like that very much indeed.”
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And a question: Would you mind if I nit-picked?
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I am though delighted that you didn't guess that was Aragorn as I thought it was far too obvious!
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All right, then. It's just two things, and you're free to disagree with me. :)
1. The last sentence of the beginning paragraph stuck out when I was reading it. I even read it out loud, and it still stuck out. It didn't exactly fit with the previous sentences, IMO. If the sentence were fleshed out, more detail written to make it relate to the entire paragraph, it wouldn't stick out.
2. Le hannon, mellon nin. "Nin" means "me," not "my," which could either be "nín" or "nîn." I used write it as "nin," too, until I was told otherwise.
That's all for nit-picks, though. Your writing is clear and easy to read, and I enjoy it.
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That sentence does end rather abruptly doesn't it? It would definitely be better fleshed out, I quite agree.
Oh, I know there should be an accent on the 'i' but I am such a computer moron I don't know how to do it! You'll find it's the same throughout everything I write. Some words I just avoid using, but others like Theoden, for instance, I'm stuck with!
But thank you so much for taking the trouble to point all that out; I really do appreciate it, and I'm glad you enjoyed the story.
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