In the land of men there was a quiet dawning, the stars of the night fading into the light of the rising sun. The moon bid a farewell at the sky only to reappear once more in the cool air of the evening. Birds rose to sing their joys to each other and to all who would listen.
However, for one man, this dawning was not as peaceful as nature would have intended.
King Elessar, known as Estel to the elves of Rivendell, rose only thinking of what troubles would greet him this fine day. The trade negotiators were in the great city of Minas Tirith. This proud city was the seven-tiered citadel of the Kings of Gondor and for Elessar this was not exception. The mighty city was the seat of power of the South Kingdom after the destruction of Osgiliath during the War of the Ring*, to which the King of Gondor was all too familiar. Sometimes, during the night, images from that war would come to the strong man in his dreams.
Stretching in the first light, Aragorn, as he was known before his rule began, looked to the southeast, to the shining waters of the River Anduin. Turning back towards his home, he took comfort in the history that surrounded him. He thought back to when Elendil and his sons first brought the city into existence. What a magnificent time that must have been.
The light reaching his spectacular room brought him back to reality. Sunlight shone through the sparkling windows and onto the rich tapestries that hung from the walls. Images from the King's adventurous past were depicted, including all he traveled with. Glowing brightly this morning was the shining thread that told of himself and Legolas, his close elven friend, chasing the Uruk-hai with Gimli in tow.
Dressing in noble and luxurious clothing of the deepest blue, Aragorn, as he called himself in his own mind, finally stepped forth from his chambers to face the day. Immediately, the very people he had geared his day to avoid greeted him.
"Your highness." Bowing so low, one would think his forehead would connect with the ground, Alcarin shone naught but great respect for his King, for he knew that he would need his Majesty's favor in order not to be thrown in the dungeon. He knew that matters of state often bored their King.
Folcal almost snickered at his companion's display, affording Elessar the usual courtesy shone to his station. "Good morning to you, Elessar, my King."
Sighing perhaps even too loudly for a King, Aragorn prepared himself mentally for what was to come, "You have risen early. Tell me what matters are so important I cannot even get to my morning refreshments?"
"Nothing of so much import as to disturb your routine, My Liege, we could accompany you." Alcarin offered. The young man had a long and impressive family history and had the look of one who could also be nobility. Fine features were cut on his face with short and curly hair that shone with a deep blackness. He was known for having caught the eye of many beautiful maidens, but found work to be his great passion and eventually the women got the idea and just looked from afar.
The red hair of Folcal stood out, as it always did for hair of such color was rare among the men of this city, his hair was not the only unique part of him as his personally was just as bright and outstanding. The man was even not above a little smartness to those of higher rank than he, however his skill around the negotiations table afforded him such leniency.
"Sire, we have journeyed long and hard and we believe that perhaps a compromise can be reached."
"Compromise?" Reaching the kitchens, Aragorn grabbed a fresh and warm roll. The kitchen staffed curtsied quickly, only a short gesture, before continuing on their duties. They were well aware that their leader preferred little in the way of ceremony and a great deal in the way of efficiency. Everyone in the room was well aware that all their work would be for nothing if all was burnt while they paid homage to their King.
"Yes!" Alcarin continued in place of his friend, "The men of Dale seek to have some of our bountiful harvest. Their crops did not do as well as ours; however, their bolts of cloth are of the finest quality I have seen in a long while. Food in your stomach is more important than extra clothing, we may turn out a nice deal."
Still walking down the hallway, the pair continued to speak of anything and everything that caught their eye while surveying what the other lands had to offer this year. Glancing up, Aragorn saw a dark figure at the end of the hallway, a figure the King of Gondor had not expected to see so soon.
A bow of greeting was not afforded, for this man stood like a stonewall with all solemnity.
"You've returned already?" Aragorn asked.
Dark eyes peered out from behind a worn and dirty face. It was the face of someone who had been out in the woods and had seen something distressing.
"It was necessary."
Nodding, Aragorn turned to his followers, "Leave us, please. We shall continue this as soon as I have leave."
Both Alcarin and Folcal knew that their usually very relaxed King meant business and bowing once more, they left without another word.
Silently, the King and his mysterious shadow entered the royal throne room. Here none would enter save if they had leave to do so. Here they could speak with absolute confidence.
"What it of such import that you stand before me, Celepharn?"
The voice responding was almost so quiet it could not be heard. A soldier of Celpharn's experience knew the value of patience, but even he was upset by the events unfolding.
"I have pulled my entire command back."
Aragorn's eyebrows raised, Celepharn commanded all the men who had once followed Aragorn before his coronation. Trusted beyond a brother, the King gazed upon his loyal Captain.
"It is that severe? That dangerous what has happened?"
He shook his head in reply, "Nay, it is that disconcerting. I do not know what to make of it."
Stepping forward, Aragorn bid him to continue.
"Aragorn," He spoke, being one of few who still called the High King of Gondor by that name, "As always, a band of men were patrolling the lands of Gondor, on the northeastern border. One morning, they did not return to check in and be replaced. We sent a survey team out after them, I lead it myself for I found it odd that they would not have returned. It is has been a quiet time of late."
Nodding, Aragorn waited for Celepharn to continue.
"Finally, early this morn, we found them." Stalling, the man didn't know any other way to say the words that needed to be said, "They had been killed." Whispers were all that could escape the Captain's throat at this point, "They were slaughtered by precise aim."
"What are you saying?"
Slowly, Celepharn reached under the black cloak he wore. From it he pulled three arrows. Lowering his head, he handed them to Aragorn.
Numbly, Aragorn took them and looked closely. He knew the arrow's style well. He had seen their kind bring death to those of Darkness. Perfect in every detail, skillfully made by the hands of elves.
Elves of the Mirkwood Realm.
Looking up quickly, as though he had been slapped in the face, Aragorn barely forced the words out, "You cannot mean?"
"It appears so," Celepharn interjected, "Elves of Mirkwood attacked them, though the words taste sour. They could have come right up to them without our men raising their guard, for they are instructed to trust the Elves."
Holding the arrows dearly, despite the fact that they had been pulled from the bodies of Aragorn's men and covered in blood, Aragorn spoke once more, "Legolas would not command anyone to attack any of my men. There must be some other explanation."
"I know your closeness with Prince Legolas, but I can think of no other explanation." Celepharn said, "How would anyone come into possession of such items? Elves guard their weapons closely."
Aragorn could think of no answer. "What would you like to do, Celepharn?"
Responding quickly, the Captain knew his King was aware of the next step without even asking. Perhaps Aragorn wished to hear it from another's lips.
"We need to send an armed expedition into Eryn Lasgalen. We need to speak with Legolas or King Thranduil and discover the meaning behind this. I cannot believe that they are behind this, but simply existing without knowing what has occurred is unacceptable. If we wait, more might die, if we confront them now, they will not be prepared if they are hostile and we might learn their intentions without losing more men." Stopping, Celepharn lowered his voice, "I can bear no more death, Aragorn."
"If only these arrows could tell their story," Aragorn said softly, "there would be no need for secrecy." Raising his sight, he met the dark eyes of his friend, and nodded.
"Go to Eryn Lasgalen with all speed and uncover this mystery."
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Celestial Navigation by Elvensong
Chapter end notes: * Source: The Encyclopedia of Arda
