WHISPERS OF THE RING
A Proper Greeting
All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken:
The crownless again shall be king.-Fellowship of the Rings, JRR Tolkien
Aragorn took a moment to let his eyes adjust in the darker atmosphere indoors. Behind him, Legolas paused as well, waiting. The Elf's was oddly tense, his usual calm absent.
"Niphred, Legolas?" he said lightly, aiming to ease his companion.
If he had hoped for a scornful laugh at the insinuation of fear, he was unsatisfied. Legolas did not react other than to say, "Law sîl Anor sí." The Sun does not shine here. His face was unusually solemn; and yet it seemed since his departure from Mirkwood he had not laughed as much as was his habit.
Aragorn thought to himself that perhaps it had been even before Legolas left his emptied woods that humor had left him. It was not merely Gondor that drove the Elf to an almost brooding silence.... But to consider such a possibility was disheartening, and Aragorn banished it quickly from his mind. He clasped a hand encouragingly to Legolas's shoulder. "We will not be lingering here long, gwador."
"Truly, I am glad of that fact, Dúnadan; there are happier places I would rather linger. "
Their eyes met and held, and Aragorn sought to pursue the truth of the Elf's discontent; but a new voice interrupted them.
"You would do well to ensure the Steward does not hear you say such things in his presence."
They both turned, somewhat surprised they had been distracted enough not to take notice of the entrance of the newcomer. Even more surprised was Aragorn to see the state of the man who had found them unawares; he seemed to have been ill a long while, pale and gaunt, and barely able to stand without leaning heavily against the wall.
Legolas, who had seen the Steward of Gondor, realized quickly who the man was. "Faramir son of Denethor," he said softly, and when the man nodded, Aragorn sketched a quick gesture of greeting as well.
Faramir made no move to return it, from injury or insult it was not clear. His face was not unkind, however. "Aragorn son of Arathorn, you claim yourself?"
"That is who I am," Aragorn replied.
For a long time, Faramir searched his face, his eyes as keen as Aragorn's had ever been; but finally his gaze softened. "And the sword that was broken?"
"Here!" At once he drew Andúril once Narsil, her blade reforged in Rivendell. The sword caught the dim torchlight and reflected it warmly, intricate traceries illuminated.
He had expected further challenge, but none came. Instead a stillness consumed Faramir, and something like regret was in his eyes. "It is exactly as in the portent which came to me so many nights when I lay fevered, and dreaming," he said, and though he spoke aloud it was evident he intended it for no ears but his own. "Your face and this blade I saw, and out of the West a great voice spoke, but I can recall none of its words." His brow creased, and his face grew faraway, and he fell to one knee before Aragorn. "I would welcome you properly to Gondor, Aragorn son of Arathorn, heir of Isildur, my King!"
And it passed through Aragorn's mind that he left off the words, because my brother will not, but he pushed aside his doubt and stretched out his hand to Faramir, laughing. "Do not kneel, Faramir son of Denethor! For today I did not come to claim a Kingdom," he said to the confusion on the man's face. "I bring more urgent tidings; there are far more important things in these days than the haggle over power."
Faramir grew quiet, and painfully drew himself upright. "Then you will turn from us, as your forebears have, Aragorn?"
"It is not the proper time," was all he said in reply. "And you bid us watch our tongues in the house of your brother earlier; do you not fear his scorn if he hears you pledge allegiance to another?"
Something drew Faramir's lips tight, and he turned his eyes towards the depths of the tower. "My thoughts are not properly spoken in the company of strangers, Kingly though the strangers might be. I will betray no loyalty to my brother, were you Mithrandir himself, or a Valar come before me."
Aragorn gave him a grim smile, but did not press. "I would not ask you to betray such loyalties, Faramir," he said kindly. "But it would be good to have a friend in the house of a man who would not welcome us with open arms."
Faramir seemed reassured, and inclined his head respectfully to Aragorn. Straightening, he limped to a doorway some length down the hall and rapped upon it sharply. "Beregond," he called, and immediately the door opened to reveal the soldier. "I have had my word; I believe Boromir is waiting for them, and would not be pleased if they are further delayed. Please, take them to him?"
Beregond nodded, and saluted Faramir. "Captain." He turned to face Aragorn and Legolas, gesturing with one arm down the length of the corridor. "If you would follow me?"
Aragorn looked to Legolas, who had been silent; but the Elf only waited for him to proceed, and Aragorn stepped forth, wondering exactly who he would meet in the heart of the tower.
Mini-Glossary
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Niphred- pallor, fear
Law sîl Anor sí. - literally this says"[does not] shine [the] Sun here." Thanks should go to Berior Golwen who helped; she also suggested "Law sîl sí Anor" [does not] shine here the Sun. If this is not correct, please let me know :D!
gwador - masc. brother, especially used of those not brothers by blood, but sworn brothers or associates.