Journey’s End

Chapter 4

Shadows of the Past

Instead of rushing after Merry and Pippin, I dawdled, enjoying the beautiful scenery that I had missed so much while I was away. Leaves still fell of the trees and swirled through the air around me. I smiled to myself as, somewhere above me, I could hear Merry and Pippin crying out happily, along with two other voices that I didn’t recognise. They spoke in the same sort of rustic dialect that the other two hobbits spoke in. I smirked and turned to go into the building, but crashed into a huge, solid mass. I tumbled backwards and fell – rather ungracefully – onto the floor. In a flash, I drew my concealed hunting knife and holding it defensively away from my body.

“Rana, what are you doing?” Aragorn laughed, offering me his hand.

“Sorry… Reflex.” I grinned, grabbing his hand and allowing him to pull me to my feet. He smiled and hugged me.

“Frodo’s awake.” He murmured.

“I guessed!” I laughed, pointing upwards. We were both quiet for a moment while we listened to the easy laughter of the four hobbits. “I met Merry and Pippin.” I smiled.

“They’re a handful, to say the least!” Aragorn grinned, “Have you met Sam yet?”

I shook my head. I had known there were four hobbits, but I’d only seen three (and only spoken to two!). I sheathed my knife, before turning back to Aragorn.

“Are we going to go up and meet them?” I asked.

“If you wish. Come on.” He took my hand and led me up the nearest winding staircase. We found ourselves on one of the balconies that ran around an entire level of the main building. Some of the taller trees grew through the floor here, so the ground was littered with golden leaves. Aragorn lead me around a corner and I was greeted with the sight of not just four, but five Hobbits!

I recognised Merry and Pippin, and Frodo seemed to be preoccupied with hugging Bilbo. The other Hobbit who looked on must have been Sam. Their joyful laughter rang clearly towards Aragorn and myself, I couldn’t help but smile at their happiness. As we watched them, Pippin looked up and noticed us standing there. He elbowed Merry in the ribs and he turned also. This movement passed throughout the group until they were all looking at us and the excided cry of ‘Strider!’ erupted from the four young Hobbits. I smiled at Aragorn. Clearly a bond had already developed between him and the hobbits. I noticed Pippin staring at us and I looked down, realising that Aragorn and I still held each other’s hands. I blushed slightly and gently let his hand slide from mine as Frodo walked over to us. He eyed me curiously with a piercing blue gaze as he paused in front of Aragorn.

“I’m glad to see you are on the mend, Frodo.” He smiled gently and knelt in front of the Hobbit.

“I owe you my life Strider.” Frodo murmured as Aragorn placed one hand on his shoulder.

“You owe me nothing.” He said softly, standing again and putting his hand on my own shoulder. “I’d like you to meet Rana, she is my closest friend.”

I gave a small bow.

“It’s a pleasure to properly meet you Frodo.” I smiled. Frodo smiled back and then looked over his shoulder at the other Hobbits. Sam, Pippin and Merry stood watching us, while Bilbo had sat back down and seemed to have dozed off, as he was snoring softly.

“Have you met everyone else?” He asked me.

“I just met Merry and Pippin a few minutes ago.” I replied. Frodo beckoned to Sam, who came and stood beside him.

“This is Samwise Gamgee, my gardener and loyal friend.” He smiled fondly at the embarrassed-looking Hobbit that stood beside him.

“It’s an honour to meet you miss.” He mumbled, shuffling his feet.

“The honour’s all mine.” I laughed happily. The group was clearly very close, and the world they were in now was far from their own, but they seemed to be making the best of things.

Suddenly, a startled snort came from Bilbo’s direction as he woke up.

“Frodo my lad!” He cried; suddenly awake, as if he was picking up the conversation exactly where it left off before he fell asleep. “I have something I want to show you!” He stood with some difficulty and Frodo rushed to help him, taking him by the arm. The two then slowly walked away from the group. Frodo cast a glance over his shoulder, as if to apologise for leaving.

*** (A few hours later)

I stood on the balcony in Aragorn’s room, leaning on the rail and absentmindedly staring down at the courtyard. Aragorn sat somewhere behind me, polishing his sword. I looked up when I heard hoof beats, a few seconds later, a man on a light bay horse rode into the courtyard. He had shoulder-length, light brown hair and on his back was a massive shield. He looked around the courtyard as he brought his horse to a halt; his eyes travelled up to the balcony where I stood and his gaze met mine. I stared back curiously, as he seemed unable to look away until his horse turned of its own accord. He then dismounted and led the horse away, but not before I noticed that the White Tree of Gondor was stamped onto his vambraces. So he was a Gondorian. Not long after he disappeared, I heard more hoof beats, this time from several horses. Several Elves rode through the stone archway, all male, with long, silver-blonde hair. They were lead by an elf I vaguely recognised. Legolas, the Prince of Mirkwood.

“Lots of people are arriving.” I said to Aragorn.

“They have been summoned for the council.” He replied as the Elves walked out of my sight.

“There was a man from Gondor, and some Elves from Mirkwood have arrived. Legolas was with them.”

He responded with a grunt, as if I was distracting him. I looked back down at the courtyard.

“And a group of Dwarves.” I added, seeing the stout, bearded folk that wandered towards us, all bearing axes. “I have never seen a gathering like this before.”

“The fate of the Ring affects the fate of all the free races of Middle Earth. They will not go without their say.” He murmured. I sighed and turned away.

“I’m curious to see how the Elves and Dwarves respond to each other.” I smirked, aware of the conflict between the two races.

“We shall see.” He mumbled, half to himself.

*** (That evening…)

I walked slowly down the darkened hallway. The sun had set not long ago, but already people were retiring to their rooms, to rest before tomorrow’s council. I walked past the doorway that led to the room where the shards of Narsil were kept. I would have walked on, if I had not heard voices inside. I paused at the doorway, peering in. The man from Gondor stood, holding the hilt of Narsil. I felt a pang of annoyance; only the heir of Isildur should wield that blade. Suddenly, the man grunted in pain.

“Still sharp.” He murmured. His head turned away from me to look at the other person in the room. It was Aragorn. He held the man’s gaze until he turned away.

“No more than a broken heirloom.” He muttered, carelessly casting the blade down onto the statue that held it and walked towards the door that I stood by. It fell to the ground with a loud clatter and he hesitated, as if he would turn and pick it up, but continued walking. I just had enough time to dash a few steps backwards down the hallway and walk slowly back towards the door, as if I was only passing by. The man walked through the door and I almost bumped into him. I gave a muttered apology and was about to walk into the room when he caught me by the arm.

“Forgive me my lady, but I saw you earlier and thought you were an elf. I see now that you are not.” I only gave a curt nod in response to this statement. I could have been mistaken for an elf from a distance, but I could not be compared to those graceful beings. “Please, tell me who you are.” He continued, releasing my arm.

“I am a friend of Gandalf the Grey.” I replied. He laughed in an almost frustrated manner.

“That is what he said.”

“Who?”

“The man in that room.” He gestured towards the chamber where Aragorn sat.

“Then he speaks the truth.” I smiled, knowing that Aragorn would not have told this man his name.

“At least tell me your name.” The man begged.

“Only if you give me yours first.” I smirked.

“My name is Boromir, son of Denethor.”

“The son of the Steward?” I murmured. He nodded proudly.

“My name is Rana Aranel, of the Dúnedain.” I said, giving my name as promised for the second time that day.

“Rana.” He echoed. “It has been a pleasure meeting you, but I am weary after travelling and will now retire to my room.” He smiled and turned away.

“Namárië.” I murmured, sub-consciously slipping into the elvish language. I walked back towards the door and paused again, sighing in frustration as I realised Aragorn was talking to someone.

“Your time will come. You will face the same evil, and you will defeat it.” I heard Arwen’s voice clearly. “A si i-Dhuath ú-orthor, Aragorn. Ú or le a ú or nin.” (The shadow does not hold sway yet Aragorn. Not over you, not over me.)

I sighed in irritation. ‘So she still loves him.’ I thought to myself.

“You can choose to leave these lands whenever you like. Then you will not have to fear the shadow, my lady.” Aragorn replied coldly, as if he was as annoyed as I was. I remembered that he always became slightly irritated when someone brought up the past. He believed he was weak, like his ancestors, and did not deserve to be the heir to the throne. That is why he chose exile.

I heard Arwen leave the room, so I quietly entered, and saw Aragorn standing in front of the sword, with his hand over his heart.

“Man mathach?” (Are you alright?) I whispered. He nodded, but did not turn to face me. “Aragorn, something is wrong.” I stated quietly, walking to his side and looking at the shards of the sword. He had replaced the hilt beside the shards of the blade. My eyes traced over the familiar inscription on the hilt.

‘Narsil essenya, macil meletya…’ ‘Narsil is my name, a mighty sword…’

I waited in silence for him to tell me what bothered him, but I had already guessed.

“You will have to accept your fate sooner or later.” I murmured. “It will not be the same as Isildur’s. His mind was corrupted and made weak by the Ring. That is not your path; you are strong and will be a great leader of your people someday, I know you will.” I finished in a whisper and turned to leave.

“Rana.”

His faint murmur caused me to turn. I briefly saw that he had turned to look at me, before he embraced me tightly.

“Hannon le.” (Thank you) he whispered.