Title:  The Moral of the Story (Part 1/3)
Author:  mcguffan (anne_robbins@yahoo.com)
Rating:  NC 17 
Pairing: Aragorn/Boromir
Summary:  Aragorn tells a story about Thorongil and Boromir gets to be jealous of 
Faramir for a change.
Archive:  Please do not archive this without permission.
Notes:  A little feedback would really help my very fragile ego. Please review.
Special Thanks to Sûlien for help with Sindarin.  I really appreciate it.  You’re a ‘vir’:+}


Not even Gandalf’s poorly concealed misgivings could dampen the reviving spirits of the 
fellowship as they made their way down the frigid and wind-blown slopes of Caradhras.  
Naturally Gimli was overjoyed to be heading for Moria and his step seemed almost light 
as he whistled to himself or spoke in glowing terms about the reception that awaited 
them.  The hobbits, too, were happy.  Pippin announced as they approached the base of 
the mountain range that he was fairly certain his feet were finally starting to thaw.  Even 
Frodo was eating a little better which pleased Sam immeasurably.  The elf was glad to 
see colors again and feel the presence of growing things.  Aragorn who had remained 
stoic in the face of the ever decreasing temperatures rejoiced in the lighter mood of his 
companions.

Boromir was no exception to the renewed spirit of vitality.  More than the cold and bitter 
wind had oppressed and worn down the man’s valiant spirit on the climb up the 
mountain.  He had not spoken of his concern to anyone but the incident when Frodo had 
dropped the ring and he had chanced to pick it up had preyed heavily upon his mind.  The 
Gondorim warrior could hardly deny the beauty of the ring, nor he could he deny that his 
pulse had quickened as he held the mithrihil chain in his gloved hand, transfixed by the 
loop of gold.  This, however, did not disturb him for he had felt the ring’s attraction since 
Elrond’s Council- an attraction which Boromir believed he had mastered.  No, what had 
insinuated itself into the man’s mind so tenaciously that he could neither eat nor sleep 
was the severity in Aragorn’s tone when he had ordered the blond warrior to return the 
ring’s to its bearer.

Boromir was hurt beyond words by the ranger’s harsh command, backed as it had been 
by Aragorn’s fierce grip on the hilt of Anduril.  The blond warrior understood that his 
first few meetings with the ranger had been awkward even adversarial.  When Aragorn’s 
lineage had been revealed Boromir had been taken completely off-guard and as the 
warrior he was his reaction when surprised had been to attack.  He had never truly 
apologized for his hasty words but Boromir had convinced himself that all was now well 
between himself and the ranger.  Throughout their journey both men had treated each 
other with courtesy and respect.  Boromir was even able to acknowledge to himself- if no 
one else- that he had come to admire Aragorn very much.  So much so that the blond 
warrior began to think that a time would come when he would retract those hasty words 
he had spoken at the council and replace them with a sincere oath of loyalty.

The blond warrior had naturally assumed that Aragorn understood his slowly changing 
attitude and that Boromir, himself was rising in the other man’s regard.  After all, they 
had spent so much agreeable time together.  They conversed amiably about the terrain 
and the antics of Merry and Pippin as well as commenting on the peculiar banter between 
Legolas and Gimli.  Just recently Boromir had started telling some of his personal history 
to Aragorn.  Sharing these confidences had seemed comfortable and it eased the warrior’s 
homesickness to speak of his past.  The ranger always listened with respect and attention 
which gave the warrior a contented, happy feeling.  Increasingly the blond man deferred 
to Aragorn’s judgment, following the ranger’s leadership seemed almost second nature 
and Boromir felt confident Aragorn would not lead him astray.

The ring itself seemed to acknowledge there was a bond between the two men of the 
company.  Almost from the start Sauron’s creation had confronted the steward’s son with 
images of a victorious and prosperous Gondor led by its king with his loyal captain-
general always at his shoulder.  At first, Boromir was confused by this for it had always 
been Faramir who had yearned for the return of the king.  As the warrior grew to know 
Aragorn, however, and became acquainted with his great power and strength as well as 
his inexplicable reluctance to fully use that power and strength Boromir’s desire for the 
fulfillment of the ring’s promises consumed him.  And if the ring occasionally sent him 
subtle hints of an ever more intimate relationship with Aragorn, well there would be time 
enough to think about that once the dark lord had been overthrown, Aragorn was king, 
Boromir was his steward and the immediate threat to his people had been eliminated.

The images of Gondor triumphant were never so clear to Boromir as when he had held 
the ring by its chain in the freezing snow.  He had been spellbound by the tantalizing 
visions but while the blond warrior looked on with yearning, he was no longer truly 
tempted.  The ring did not offer Boromir anything he could not attain for himself.  
Boromir felt certain Aragorn would not abandon their people.  The steward’s son hardly 
needed the ring to save his City if he had his king by his side.  As the two men became 
friends the ring could no longer lure him against his conscience with such pictures.  Even 
the vaguer hints of the king turning to his faithful captain for more than friendship could 
not move Boromir for this too he hoped to win on his own merit.  Thus, Aragorn’s show 
of distrust in his countryman pitched Boromir into a deep depression from which he 
could not free himself throughout the grueling climb up the steep mountain slope.

As the air grew milder, however, Boromir struggled to put the incident into perspective.  
He had been mistaken not to be more explicit about his evolving feelings.  Aragorn was 
not a mind reader, after all, and the warrior had been truly captivated by what the ring 
showed him.  Boromir decided he would just have to make it clear to the ranger that he 
no longer believed that the ring was the way to accomplish what he wanted.  Besides 
Aragorn might even have forgotten the whole incident.  He had only just picked up the 
ring when the foolish hobbit dropped it-  Frodo was so weak.  Boromir knew Aragorn 
struggled to look after the annoying hobbit.  He wished the ranger would allow the blond 
warrior to be more help.  Boromir had the strength.  Had he not handed the Ring over as 
soon as the ranger told him to do so.  By the time the green grass became visible beneath 
the patches of melting snow Boromir had convinced himself that the entire episode had 
been a product of frayed nerves brought on by the low temperatures and the ranger’s 
natural anger and anxiety that the hobbit had managed to lose the ring.  

Thus, as the fellowship made camp for the first time in what seemed like ages on flat 
terrain everyone was eager to share their the happy mood with their companions.  
Legolas sang, much to the delight of everyone and Gimli recounted some of the fabulous 
wonders that awaited them in Moria.  By that time, the sun had set and the afternoon had 
waxed to evening the company had eaten and even been allowed a few hours to revel in 
the comparative warmth of the lowlands.  Despite the long trek down the mountain and 
the severity of the assent the fellowship showed no sign of settling down for the night.

“Gentlemen, might I suggest you find your beds.  We resume our march early tomorrow 
and though we will no longer have to trudge through snow you will still need to be well 
rested.”  Aragorn advised as the ranger watched Pippin blow dandelion seeds into 
Legolas’ hair and then run squealing for cover behind Gimli.

“Not yet, Strider, please!”  Merry implored, giggling maniacally as the elf managed to hit 
Pippin twice in a row with acorns despite the dwarf’s sheltering bulk.

“It is a very pleasant evening.”  Frodo added smiling a little at his cousins.

“Perhaps we all might enjoy the evening more if we settled down a bit.”  Legolas 
interjected quickly, as he suddenly became aware that Gimli and Pippin appeared to be 
plotting something.

“You say that after you have gotten your acorns in.”  Pippin sulked.  Boromir laughed 
and tousled the aggrieved hobbit’s curls.

“Let’s have another song then, Legolas, to make amends to poor Pippin.”  Boromir 
suggested who having discovered a few twigs and bits of leaf in the hobbit’s hair was 
busy picking them out.

“Nay, I shall not.  ‘Poor Pippin’ indeed!  Who knows what mischief he and the dwarf are 
hatching.”  The elf replied eyeing Gimli and Pippin shrewdly as the two suddenly 
contrived to look very innocent.

“Gandalf, will you favor us with a tale then?”  Aragorn asked the wizard as he watched 
the interaction among his comrades with paternal affection.  The man hoped to draw the 
sullen mage into the same easy and companionable spirit as the rest of the fellowship for 
Gandalf did enjoy holding an audience in thrall.  The wizard, however, was not to be 
diverted from his own gloomy thoughts.

“You may not have noticed, Aragorn, but the success of this journey requires my utmost 
care and concentration.  You will pardon me if I choose to delegate the entertaining 
responsibilities for tonight.”  The wizard grumped taking a long pull on his pipe.  The 
ranger was not offended by his old friend’s churlishness.  Indeed he was even a little 
relieved for Gandalf’s grumpiness was a sign the wizard was not completely consumed 
by his worries.  The hobbits gave Gandalf’s answer no thought never having received any 
greater courtesy from the temperamental wizard.  Legolas and Gimli, though they liked 
each other very much, had yet to have a conversation that did not heavily rely upon 
insults so they saw nothing rude in Gandalf’s words.  Boromir, however, was incensed.

“Do the rest of us do so little for the good of the fellowship, then wizard, that you have 
no resources left over to make yourself agreeable for a single night?”  The blond warrior 
asked.  Boromir had no recollection of Gandalf levitating the hobbits through the waist 
deep snow.  Nor could he remember the wizard causing fresh meat to materialize before 
them.  Nor had the man any memory of the mage using his magic to heal the hundred 
bruises, scrapes and other minor injuries the hobbits had fallen victim to.  Nor could he 
remember Gandalf lifting a finger in a hundred other tasks which had been shouldered by 
the others and most especially by Aragorn.

There was no mistaking the genuine irritation in Boromir’s question.  To the others it 
seemed a race to answer first between the ranger who would try to save everyone’s 
feelings and Gandalf who would almost certainly match and exceed Boromir’s angry 
words.  It was a surprise then when the next words were not spoken by either the man or 
the wizard.

“Will you please tell us a story, Aragorn?”  Frodo asked timidly.  “You have not told us 
one since we left Rivendell.”  The ringbearer’s entreaty seemed to assuage Gandalf’s ire 
and the wizard turned back to his pipe with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Yes, tell us about the elves.”  Sam pleaded.

“Master Samwise, you have an actual elf before you.”  Legolas said mildly.

“An elf who will not sing.  Of what use is that?”  Merry responded gleefully.  “Yes, do 
tell us a story Strider but choose something with a happy ending.”

“But nothing comical.”  Gimli put in.  “Humor doesn’t always translate between races.  
Just look at the elf and his pretty little braids.  Those little pixie twists would have had us 
all rolling on the floor back home and yet the elf walks around as if there were nothing 
funny at all about having little spears of asparagus hanging out of his head.”

“Yes, it’s a pity we can’t all be amused by someone getting so drunk he mistakes his 
pickaxe for his wife.”  Legolas shot back in reference to an anecdote that Gimli had 
barely been able to tell for laughing.

“Tell us a story of your own.”  Frodo said quietly staring out across the night seemingly 
unaware of all the teasing.  “No myths or legends.”  Boromir who was still caught 
between embarrassment at having almost provoked an argument and annoyance that he 
hadn’t gotten the chance to set the wizard straight pricked up his ears at Frodo’s soft-
spoken demand.

“Are there any other requests I should keep in mind?”  Aragorn asked a little 
overwhelmed by the sudden tide of demands.  When it was clear no one had anything 
else to add, the ranger sat back to think a moment while the hobbits pulled their blankets 
close to the fire and made themselves comfortable.

Aragorn considered for a long time.  In his life he had accumulated a number of stories 
many of which were already known to Gandalf and Legolas, but the man was reluctant to 
speak of the countless battles he had been involved in.  His travels while certainly 
interesting tended to contain too many grim facts for him to be comfortable recounting 
them.  Finally, an idea occurred to Aragorn but before he spoke he gazed at Boromir.  
The ranger was not entirely certain how the blond warrior would react to certain 
revelations. Aragorn did not wish to offend the other man, in part to preserve the 
harmony of the group but also because he valued Boromir as a person and the thought of 
upsetting the steward’s son was more disquieting than Aragorn liked to admit.  Still, it 
was a happy story and the ranger had been looking for an opportunity to make known to 
the blond man a little of his past.

Aragorn set down his pipe for the weaving of tales was a serious business and cleared his 
throat.  “During the time of Ecthelion II, Steward of Gondor and grandfather to Boromir, 
I served the White City under the name Thorongil.”  The ranger had just uttered the first 
sentence when he was interrupted by several voices.

“Our Boromir’s grandfather?”  Pippin demanded looking as though he suspected 
someone was trying to play a joke on him.

“’Thorongil’, that’s elfish isn’t it?  What does it mean?”  Frodo asked letting the 
unfamiliar syllables roll off his tongue.

“Captain Thorongil?”  Boromir murmured in wonder, his eyes gleaming with unnamed 
emotions.  Keeping a careful eye on the Gondorim warrior Aragorn answered each 
question in turn.

“Yes, ‘our Boromir’s grandfather’.  It may not appear so but Boromir and I are not of an 
age.”  Aragorn informed the hobbit.  Not wishing to go into a discussion about the 
advantages of the blood of Numenor the ranger quickly took a breath to answer Frodo’s 
question but the elf was faster.

“’Thorongil’ means ‘The Eagle of the Star’.”  Legolas informed Frodo helpfully.  “Very 
regal and majestic wouldn’t you say?”  The elf laughed as he saw his human friend turn 
his head uncomfortably.

“The name was given me in reference to the star shaped broach that all the Dunedain are 
accustomed to wearing.”  Aragorn added sounding only the slightest bit embarrassed.  
The ranger had always felt the burden of his many names.  They so often revealed such 
very high expectations.

“Well, that explains the bit about the star, at least.”  Legolas continued to tease.  Aragorn 
gave the grinning elf a look of mild reproof before turning his attention to Boromir.  The 
other man had seemed oblivious to the conversation after his first outburst.  Thorongil 
and Denethor had never been friends and it had been a bit of a gamble for Aragorn to 
claim his earlier alias without first learning how Thorongil was spoken of in Gondor.

For his part, Boromir was not as astonished as he might have been.  It pleased the blond 
man immeasurably that Aragorn had not only been to Gondor but served her 
courageously as well.  He had wanted to ask the ranger if he had ever come to Minas 
Tirith in his travels but, fearing the answer might he ‘no’, he had never done so.  Further, 
from what he had heard Captain Thorongil had been an admirable leader and soldier with 
a personality absolutely consistent with that of the tall, stern man now before him.  
Ecthelion was said to have been thoroughly enamoured of the captain.  And while 
Denethor had sincerely disliked him, a fact made abundantly clear by the steward’s 
manner whenever Thorongil’s name was mentioned, he could accuse the captain of no 
concrete acts of wrongdoing.

“Will you tell us of your famous victory over the Corsairs at Umbar?”  Boromir asked 
eyes gleaming with something that was more than pride.

“Perhaps another time.”  Aragorn answered smiling warmly at the other man.  At the 
ranger’s smile Boromir felt the terrible experience of Caradhras and that awful incident 
with the ring lift from him.  The blond man was more than eager for the telling of this 
story.   He was confident that this sharing of history was going to bring him closer to 
Aragorn.

“The story I will tell you now occurred somewhat after the defeat of the Corsairs.”  
Aragorn began almost unconsciously letting his voice take on a slower more rhythmic 
cadence.  “I had officially left Ecthelion’s service but I had not yet abandoned the name 
Thorongil or left Gondor.  I had it in my mind to travel into Mordor for it is well to know 
as much of one’s enemy as possible but I wanted to spend more time in the kingdom of 
my ancestors before I attempted such a grim expedition.”

“By happenstance I found myself roaming through Dol Amroth at around the same time 
the Lady Finduilas, wife to Denethor, was visiting her family there."  It had not been 
altogether happenstance for Dol Amroth hosted many merchants and traders.  It was a 
place where a stranger could go unnoticed if he was quiet and law abiding.  Thus, there 
was a certain tavern within the city that the Dunedain had designated where orders could 
be left and messages sent or received.  Sometimes two or more of the rangers would meet 
one another and spend an evening in familiar company.  Aragorn had left instructions for 
Halbarad, written several letters and then lingered in hopes of word from Rivendell.  He 
wished for something, even a word, from Arwen before departing for Mordor but the 
channels of communication were slow and unpredictable and no letter came. Aragorn, 
however, did not speak of this.

"I was at dinner in the common room of the inn where I was staying when the news came 
that the lady had been delivered of a second son.  There was much rejoicing and Faramir- 
though the child was not yet called that for his father still resided in Minas Tirith and had 
not seen him to name him- was toasted through out the city.  Indeed as a former captain I 
considered it no less than my duty to buy a round of ale so that all could drink the health 
of the young one.”  As he spoke Aragorn kept an eye on his audience, paying special 
attention to how the other man of the company received his words.  

Boromir was hanging on each new utterance.  He had never expected to hear an account 
of his beloved brother’s birth from such a unique perspective.  The idea of Aragorn 
hearing with pleasure that a second grandchild had been born to Ecthelion brought an 
unexpected lump to the blond man’s throat.  Legolas, too, was fascinated.  The elf had 
believed that he had coaxed every story the ranger had from the man at one point or 
another in their long friendship.  The prince of Mirkwood could not help but wonder why 
he had never heard this particular tale before.  As for the others, they were waiting 
patiently for the action to begin.

“A week later, feasting and revelry still abounded, but I was afflicted with a nagging 
sense that I had delayed my journey long enough for selfish reasons and that it was time 
to continue on my travels.  Quite sadly I prepared to leave Dol Amroth.  Owing to the 
continuing celebrations the main roads were crowded with those who had come to join in 
the festivities.  So it was that I decided to make my way northeast through the country 
making use of back roads and forest paths whenever possible.”

“By the third afternoon I was traveling along moorland that stretched for miles between 
tall cliffs rising up to the east and the sea to the west.  The sky had darkened and the air 
crackled.  A storm had been brewing all that day and I guessed it was close by the 
unnatural stillness of the animals inhabiting the low bushes and shrubs.  Having no desire 
to try and sleep outdoors in the coming storm I kept a lookout for some shelter.  The only 
human habitation for miles turned out to be a small manor house, no doubt the summer 
residence of one of the lesser nobility.  Even in such troubled times it was the custom in 
Dol Amroth to offer hospitality to travelers so with this in mind I approached the house, 
hastening to outpace the storm.”

“I had not anticipated finding any in residence save for a servant or two for the year was 
well into autumn but to my surprise the stable was crowded and there appeared to be 
much activity at the house.  I was greeted courteously at the door but it was clear to me 
that my arrival was somewhat inconvenient.  It was no wonder for each day I passed on 
the road I came to resemble Strider rather more than Thorongil and I had not expected a 
warm welcome.  With nervous apologies I was told the house was full but that I was 
welcome to find what shelter I might in the stables.  The housekeeper hovered around me 
while she gave me some stew in the kitchen.  She seemed nervous and uncommunicative 
but I attributed this to my disreputable looks and her desire to keep an eye on the family’s 
valuables.  More than content to be as small a burden on my reluctant host as possible 
and eager not to leave Seraph- a very fine and noble beast who was traveling with me at 
the time- alone during a lightening storm I ate the offered stew quickly.  Then I thanked 
the housekeeper and went out to shelter with the horses.”

“The horses were anxious about the approaching storm and I did my best to calm them.  I 
noticed with curiosity that Seraph and I shared accommodations with nine horses. Most 
of these steeds were hearty stallions and soldiers’ mounts.  The only exceptions were two 
truly beautiful palfreys such as only the richest of noble ladies could afford to ride.  I 
could only guess that some lord’s daughter was being escorted somewhere and had 
stopped at the manor house just as I had done for shelter.  Yet this seemed a strange place 
for such a convoy to come for the house was isolated and far from the main road.  
Deciding, finally, that my curiosity was misplaced I concentrated on reassuring the 
skittish horses.”

“Not long after I bedded down for the night the storm finally broke.  The rain poured 
down in sheets.  I heard the dripping of water from several places where the roof was not 
up to withstanding the driving rain.  Occasionally the whole of the stable lit up in the 
faintly blue flash of lightening.  In the sudden illumination I saw the eyes’ of several of 
the horses roll up in fear and I rose from my blankets to comfort them as best I could but 
I had only just stood up when the stable doors burst open.  With a sudden sense of 
foreboding I pressed myself against a nearby pillar and waited in silence.

“Thirteen men entered leading their frightened horses.  When they had all crowded in to 
the small stable a single lantern was lit.  Then their leader spoke:  ‘Stay quiet until Tirvan 
signals us that everyone is asleep.  Then I want Quido to stay with the horses while the 
rest of us take the house.  Kill everyone but the lady and the child.’  The words chilled 
me but even more frightening to me at that moment was that the man had spoken in the 
tongue of the Haradrim.  This was no simple act of banditry.”

“’Do we kill Tirvan also?’  Came a quiet voice alarmingly close to where I stood willing 
myself invisible, for I was poorly hidden with only the darkness and the narrow pillar to 
conceal me.”

“’A man who will sell his own people for gold does not deserve to live, even if we do 
profit from his treason.  Yes, kill him too.’  The leader replied.  ‘When we have the 
mother and babe and the rest are dead we wait until Morgo is able to get through this 
storm and he brings in the rest of the men.’”

“I could not quite believe what I had stumbled upon.  It was not difficult to guess who it 
was these men intended to capture.  Harad was ever scheming against Gondor and I knew 
that the steward’s family was often the target of these attacks.  During my time in the 
guard, however, I had never been charged with investigating these plots and this 
theoretical knowledge and the reality of killers in the night were quite different things.”  
Aragorn tactfully refrained from mentioning that the one time Ecthelion had suggested 
that his much admired Captain Thorongil take over the protection of his family Denethor 
had been so enraged that he had been in danger of having a seizure.  Concerned for his 
son’s health Ecthelion dropped the subject.

“My thoughts raced but there was no way I would be able to slip out of the overcrowded 
stable and give warning to those within the house without making my presence known.  I 
was still frantically searching for a way to give the alarm when the leader spoke again:  
‘There it is!  Two candles burning in the west-most window.  If you’re quiet, boys, this 
won’t be much of a fight.  Let’s go.’  With that the men crept from the stable into the rain 
leaving only the one man with the horses.”

“When the last man had slipped out I counted to ten before drawing my sword and 
stepping out into the pale gleam of the lantern’s light.  The remaining Haradrim did not 
have enough time to scream before I killed him.  The horses would not like the smell of 
blood but I did not have time to do anything with the man’s corpse.  Looking from the 
door I saw, when the lightening flashed, figures moving along the barren landscape.  
Cursing I left the stable at a run.  I ran without caution and nearly slipped several times in 
the muddy earth but I kept going.”

“I saw a man open the door stealthily gesturing for the Haradrim to enter.  Breathing hard 
I dropped to the ground.  I could not afford to be seen quite yet.  I considered shouting 
warnings but I could not out cry the storm so I stayed on the ground moving forward on 
my stomach while the Haradrim entered the house.  When the traitor had closed the door 
behind the last of the enemy soldiers I rose to my feet and ran the rest of the way to the 
house.”

“The traitor had not bothered to lock the door and I pushed it open crying out to wake the 
house and warn them of their peril as I did so.  The sight that first met my eyes upon 
entering the foyer was the corpse of the man set to the keep watch.  His throat had been 
cut, no doubt the work of the traitor.  Next to him lay the crumpled figure of the traitor, 
stabbed through the heart.  Still calling out the alarm I charged forward, following the 
corridor from which I thought I had heard movements.”

“By the increase of noise men were waking throughout the house.  Ahead, it was obvious 
that the Haradrim had now abandoned stealth for speed.  Two of the enemy soldiers had 
turned around to deal with the one who was making the noise.  Seeing their approach I 
readied my sword.  Fortunately, the corridor was narrow which took away some of the 
advantage of the two on one attack.  When the two caught sight of me they paused.  The 
Haradrim tend to be on average of slightly shorter stature then other men and I towered 
above these two.  More than that, I was disheveled, covered in mud and my sword was 
already bloody from the man I had killed in the stable.  While they wondered at my 
alarming appearance I lunged.  In the end, the two Haradrim died and I continued onward 
to where I could hear the remaining Gondorim had joined battle with the enemy.”

Legolas could not help but smile even as he was caught up in the action of the story.  The 
elf had seen his human friend in battle and he did not doubt that upon being faced with 
the figure of Aragorn the Haradrim had seen their deaths in the ranger’s eyes.  Legolas 
also noted that, contrary to his custom of describing battles maneuver by maneuver and 
thrust by thrust- the man took a general’s interest in strategy and a common soldier’s 
interest in tactics- Aragorn was significantly glossing over the violence.  This was almost 
certainly for the benefit of the hobbits who were leaning forward eager for each new 
word.

“When I finally arrived at the place where the soldiers of Gondor had mustered to make 
their stand the battle was nearly over.”  Aragorn resumed after quickly assessing the 
mood of his audience.  “Only two defenders remained living to fight off five of the 
attackers.  So involved in finishing off their quarry were the invaders that I managed to 
kill one of the Haradrim before they even realized I was a threat.  I did not dare join ranks 
with the remaining Gondorim for they were both injured and confused.  I could not trust 
that they would be able to recognize me as an ally.  Thus, we broke off into pairs fighting 
man to man except that I- as the only uninjured man for Gondor- faced two opponents.”

“My attention was fully occupied by the men before me and I could not spare so much as 
a glance to watch the progress of the other battles.  Thus, when a final desperate stroke 
finally claimed the life of my second opponent and I was able to look about me I saw that 
the other battles had ended in mutual slaughter.  Quickly I checked for any signs of life 
from any of the defending soldiers but though one still breathed his wounds put him 
beyond any mortal’s aid and all I could do was ease his passing.”

“Hurriedly, I searched the lower story of the house.  I found none living.  I found another 
sentry with his throat cut next to the body of the housekeeper who had apparently come 
to bring the man on watch a mug of chocolate.  My fear rising I made my way up the 
staircase to the second floor.  Carefully I entered the first door I came to my sword at the 
ready.  The room was empty, however, and I continued on.  The second room was as 
empty as the first but as I pushed open the door to the third room I suddenly found myself 
under attack.”

“Sharp nails scratched my face seeking my eyes.  A determined knee kept striking for my 
groin.  On instinct I brought my sword up to defend myself only just pulling back in time 
as I realized my attacker was a woman.  ‘Listen to me, I mean you no harm!  Stop!  
Listen, will you?  I’m not going to hurt- Gods!’  My words did nothing to halt the assault 
and my attacker was getting in several fairly powerful blows to my chest and stomach.  
Dropping my sword I tried to take hold of her wrists still pleading.”

“As I struggled I failed to notice that there was someone behind me.  Boromir, your lady 
mother nearly cracked my head open with an empty ale tankard.  Fortunately for me, 
however, at the last moment she recognized something in my features or voice.  Though 
we had never spoken directly to one another both of us had attended many of the same 
obligatory social events in Minas Tirith.  ‘Captain Thorongil?’  I heard the question and 
tried to turn while still defending myself from the unrelenting attacks.  ‘Brannan, stop, 
stop.  He is not an enemy.’  At these words the flurry of fists abruptly broke off.”

“’My lady.’  I answered bowing before Finduilas.  The lady’s belly was still swollen from 
her recent pregnancy and she moved awkwardly.  She was very pale and her brow was 
covered in a thin sheen of sweat.  Just as I was thinking that she looked far too ill to be 
traveling I was interrupted by soft, frightened whimpers.  Looking around I saw a cradle 
at the far end of the room.  Ignoring me as she passed by Mistress Brannan hurried to the 
cradle and picked up a squirming bundle.  As she rocked the bundle in her arms and made 
soft shushing sounds the cries ceased.”

“’Have you been sent to rescue us, captain?’  The lady asked.  ‘Where is Captain Rodrin?  
What has been happening?’  She continued without waiting for my answer.  She was 
struggling to remain calm as her gaze flitted anxiously toward her child.”

“’My lady, I was not sent here.  It is only wild chance that I came to this place seeking 
shelter from the storm.  I had no idea that you were here or even that you had left your 
brother’s palace.  As for Captain Rodrin, I fear he is dead, my lady.  The house was 
attacked by Haradrim soldiers.  Your guards fought bravely but it has ended in stalemate.  
None save I survived the battle for I came late to it.’  I explained as gently as I could.”

“Finduilas put her hand to the wall to steady herself as she grew yet paler at my words.  
Still rocking the bundle Brannan went over to her mistress offering what support she 
could.  The presence of her son soothed Finduilas and gave her courage.  Taking the 
bundle from her maid she stood straight and proud ready to face the situation.  ‘Such an 
attack was not entirely unexpected.’  Finduilas responded taking a deep breath.  ‘That is 
why we left my brother without fanfare and traveled the back roads, for security- They’re 
all dead, are you sure?’”

“’Yes, lady.  I’m sorry.’  I confirmed unhappily.  I had found all the bodies.  I was glad to 
see that most of the men had been awakened and had died with their weapons in their 
hands.”  At the time, Aragorn had doubted this news would have been of much comfort 
to Finduilas so he had not spoken of how he had found her guards.  Boromir, the ranger 
knew however, would take solace in the fact that most of the soldiers had not been killed 
in their sleep so he included the detail for the blond warrior’s benefit.

“‘If I may ask why have you left Imrahil’s protection if there was intelligence of a plot 
against you?  Should you not still be resting and recovering your strength?’  Though 
trained in healing I knew little about the care of pregnant women but it was clear to me 
the lady was not well.”

“’The little one’s presence in Minas Tirith was required and I am his mother.’  Finduilas 
informed me a little coldly.  I inclined my head acknowledging that I had overstepped my 
bounds in making such an inquiry.  'What do we do now?’  The lady asked then, 
sounding weary and frightened once more.”

“’It grieves me, for I would not gladly have you exposed to the elements, but the danger 
has not yet passed.  It is only this storm that delays the arrival of yet more of the enemy.  
We must leave this place as soon as possible.’  I said for I had not forgotten the 
conversation I had overheard earlier.  If more Haradrim were going to arrive then the 
steward’s grandson and daughter-in-law must be taken as far away as possible.”

“’My lady, it would be madness to go out in this storm.’  Brannan said. Then leaning 
closer to Finduilas, she continued in a whisper.  ‘And who is this man who comes out of 
nowhere and knows what we must do?  It is very strange, is it not?’  Mistress Brannan 
concluded eyeing me warily.  The maiden’s suspicions were not without foundation.  My 
appearance at just this time and place was rather extraordinary and I admired her loyalty 
to her mistress but I did not know how long it would be before the Haradrim 
reinforcements arrived.  I did not relish taking the time to explain how I had come to 
overhear the enemy.”

“Finduilas regarded me a long moment.  I had just resigned myself to telling the story of 
what I had overheard in the stable hoping that Brannan did not think to inquire why I, as 
a retired captain of the guard, had not insisted upon better accommodations or how it was 
I knew the language of Harad when Finduilas spoke:  ‘Tell us what we must do.  We are 
in your hands, captain.’  I bowed acknowledging the responsibility.  I could not help but 
be moved by the lady’s trust for she knew nothing of me save what she must have been 
told and. . . and her husband did not care for me overmuch.”

At this last statement Aragorn darted a glance at Boromir.  The ranger had no desire to 
say anything that might be interpreted as a criticism of his friend’s father.  Nor, for that 
matter, did he wish to belittle the current ruler of Gondor but Finduilas’ decision to trust 
him, not only with her own life but with that of her infant son, had touched his heart.  
Despite his better judgment he had found that he could not quite resist sharing this 
feeling.  Not for the first time that evening Aragorn wondered if he had been wise to tell 
this story at this time and in this setting but he had committed himself now.  He also felt a 
strange urge to speak that he did not completely understand.  It was odd but the ranger 
found he could not quite resist continuing the story.

Aragorn need not have worried about how Boromir received his words, however.  
Finduilas’ first born was utterly enthralled.  All of his intuitions about the other man’s 
nobility and Boromir’s own burgeoning reverence for him were being given ever greater 
justification.  The blond warrior was leaning forward as though he hoped that that way he 
could catch the ranger’s words just a little sooner.  Moreover, though Boromir loved his 
father he was not blind to the fact that the steward occasionally indulged in unreasonable 
prejudices.  Too often had the elder brother seen the younger almost reduced to tears by 
their father’s petty cruelties to believe Denethor was perfect.  Boromir himself had also 
suffered from his father’s favoritism.  He was the steward’s true hope for the future and 
the burden of that had been crushing.  More than that, it had hurt the blond warrior 
terribly to be held up as the good son when in his own heart he knew of Faramir’s great 
worth.  Of course, Boromir had never voiced a word of complaint about his own 
situation.  How could he when Faramir could do nothing to elicit so much as a word of 
praise from Denethor.

“Go on, then.”  Merry encouraged as Aragorn sat pondering.  “What happened next?”  
Broken from his reverie the ranger smiled and took a sip of water before continuing.

“I told the ladies to put on their heaviest cloaks and to wrap themselves up warmly for we 
had no choice but to go out and brave the storm.  When they were ready I led them out of 
the room. ‘Don’t look.’  I advised after we descended the stair.  Bodies, transformed by 
death into things of horror, littered the floor and I did not want the women to have to see 
the carnage.”

“There were too many bodies, however, and the women could not help but stare aghast.  
Gently I took Finduilas by the arm to lead her through the room but she stopped me.  
‘Give me one of their swords, Captain.’  She demanded in a shaking voice.”

“My lady, swords quickly grow heavy.  They are cumbersome if you are not accustomed 
to them and you must save your strength for your babe.”  I replied, not wishing to burden 
her further.”

“‘I will not go weaponless, Captain Thorongil.’  She insisted.  Seeing that she would not 
be moved I went to one of the soldiers of her guard and took his knife.  I cleaned the 
blood off on his cloak.  Then I retrieved another soldier’s knife and cleaned it.  Returning 
to the women I gave one knife to Finduilas and the other to Brannan who I did not doubt 
would use it very effectively if the need arose.  Finduilas thanked me while Brannan only 
smiled as she slipped the daggers into her belt.”

“It was a relatively short distance to the stable but we were all soaked before we were 
able to make our way in.  The horses were still terrified but they were happy to see us.  
The ladies huddled together as far away from the first man I had killed as the crowded 
stable would allow.  I saddled Seraph and the palfrey that looked the least frightened.  
When I had the horses ready.  I tried to lead them out of the stable.  We could not risk 
riding until the lightening storm was over.  The palfrey, however, would not leave no 
matter how I soother and coaxed her.  Finally, I decided we would have to make do with 
Seraph.”

“’Try to hold on to the horse.’ I instructed, carefully leading Seraph out of the stable with 
Finduilas clutching the stallion's stirrup in one hand and holding Faramir to her chest 
with the other.  Brannan pressed against Finduilas and Faramir steadying her lady and 
sharing her warmth.  Heading east toward the cliffs we made slow progress through the 
mud and twisting roots of shrubs and small plants that grew through the grassland.  
Fighting against the driving wind and rain in clothing heavily drenched in water was 
exhausting and my anxiety for the women, most especially Finduilas, caused me to look 
back frequently.  We had not gone far when I saw that Finduilas was having difficulty.  
Halting I insisted, over the roar of the gale, that babe be given to Brannan and that the 
lady hold onto Seraph with both hands."

"'Where are you taking us?'  Brannan demanded after we had gone a little more than a 
mile.  The maid carried a surprisingly quiet Faramir on one hip and supported Finduilas 
with her other arm.  The storm had not eased in the least and there was as yet no sign of 
any shelter.  'My lady cannot continue in this way.  She must have rest and warmth.'  I 
agreed with Brannan but there was nothing I could do at the moment."

"'I want to try and reach the cliffs.  There should be caves hidden in the rock face.  There 
we can have a fire and I have some herbs that may help to ease the lady’s discomfort but 
we must go on.'  As soon as I had finished speaking Finduilas stumbled once more.  
Brannan's eyes flashed an accusation and I decided that the lady would have to ride 
despite the threat of lightening."

"Seraph was a big stallion and he hardly seemed to feel the extra weight as I lifted 
Finduilas up into the saddle.  'Keep low over the horse's neck.'  I told the lady though I 
need hardly have bothered for she did not have the strength to keep herself upright.  We 
made greater speed, then, though I worried constantly.  There was almost no time at all 
between lightening and thunder and Finduilas atop Seraph came higher than anything else 
on the heath."

"Finally we came to the cliffs.  I let the women rest huddled against the wind between 
Seraph and the cliff while I explored.  The rocks were slippery and I hoped to find some 
small fissure that could shelter us soon for I was terrified that one of the women would 
fall and the baby would be hurt.  I found a small opening almost immediately and I was 
about to run back and to bring the women out of the storm but then I noticed some odd 
markings around the cave entrance.  I made no sense of the symbols but I knew that 
rangers were not the only folk to mark frequent resting and meeting places.  It would be 
nearly as bad to be found, come the morning, by a territorial group of bandits as the 
Haradrim, so suppressing my frustration I moved on."

"Only a little further on I found a smaller passage into the rock.  It was hardly as spacious 
as the first cave but there was just room enough for three people and a horse.  Even 
better, pine needles covered the cave floor in sparse patches.  With luck they would be 
dry enough to help start a fire.  I studied the location of the place quickly hoping that I 
would be able to come to it more directly with the women, then I hurried back to where I 
had left my companions."

"A little later I was crouching over a small pile of pine needles and damp twigs coaxing a 
small flame to life.  Brannan was wringing the excess water from the heavy cloaks that 
had wrapped her and her lady.  Finduilas sat on the cave floor rocking Faramir and 
murmuring quietly to him.  When I was sure the fire had properly caught I helped 
Finduilas nearer to the warmth then I went up closer to the entrance of the cave to take 
care of Seraph and to give the women a little privacy while they settled themselves."

"Seraph was happy enough to be out of the rain and then to be free of the heavy saddle.  I 
praised the stallion for his bravery in facing the storm and for his gentleness and care on 
the long walk.  Seraph whickered contentedly despite the flashes of lightening that still 
cracked the night sky.  He had conquered his fear on our hurried journey and now he was 
ready for a well-deserved sleep.  Patting his soft nose once more I took up my pack and 
returned to the fire.”

“’I have provisions: bread, a little dried meat. It is only soldiers’ fare but if one is hungry 
it will serve.’  I offered opening my pack and retrieving the little food I carried as well as  
some of the herbs that I thought would best induce warmth and a peaceful rest in my 
weary and chilled companions.  I realized suddenly that I was  a little nervous.  While I 
felt reasonably competent to lead our desperate escape from the manor house I felt 
inadequate to see to it that the women felt safe and comfortable.”

“’Thank you, Captain but I am not hungry.’  Finduilas said looking as though she felt a 
little nauseous.  Eyeing her critically I took out an herb that soothed the stomach before 
handing Brannan a portion of my rations.  ‘It seems, though that the little one wants his 
meal.’  Finduilas continued fondly as the babe in her arms, perhaps sensing that it was 
now safe to cry, started to howl.  This announcement caused me to drop the kettle I had 
just brought out and I trusted to the dim light of the flames to hide my blush.”

“’I’m sorry.  Of course, I didn’t think.  I will go. . . look for any dry wood to add to the 
fire.’  I stood hastily wondering how long I would need to stay out in the rain before it 
would be safe to return.”

“’You need not go, Captain.’  Finduilas said with a small smile.  ‘It will not take long and 
you are our only protection.  For propriety’s sake, however, I will turn around and let the 
fire warm my back for a time.’  I wanted to protest that I really should go but the lady had 
already turned around and I heard the soft rustle of her clothing.  I seized the small kettle 
and bolted to the front of the cave.  I filled the kettle with rainwater and then stood 
staring out at the night until I heard Finduilas call me back to the fire.”

“Nervously, I looked around, only committing myself to return when I saw the child,  
apparently fully sated, placed upon his mother’s shoulder his back being patted gently.  
Sighing with relief I put the kettle on the fire and added the chosen herbs.  Brannan was 
beginning to relax and I saw her try to stifle ever greater yawns but Finduilas still 
appeared tense, her face pinched and drawn with worry and perhaps also illness.  When 
the tea I was brewing was finally ready I took out a small tin cup and filled it.”

“’I would have you and mistress Brannan drink this, lady.’  I said offering the cup.  ‘I 
know something of herbs and I believe that this will help you find as peaceful a rest as 
you may in such conditions.’”

“I did not know that herb lore was part of a soldier’s education.’  Finduilas commented 
taking the cup and sipping the contents.  Brannan looked suddenly distrustful but she 
drank obediently when her mistress passed her the cup.”

“’I was not always a soldier.’  I replied carefully, watching as the women passed the cup 
back and forth between them.”

“’So much has always been obvious, Captain Thorongil.  But you are not now a soldier 
either, are you.  Have I not heard that you left my lord Ecthelion’s service?  Why was 
that?’  Finduilas asked with another small smile.  This was not a subject I cared to discuss 
but it was obvious that the lady desired conversation and that it was doing as much as the 
tea to calm and relax her.”

“’I resigned my commission that is true.’  I answered as Finduilas’ eyes searched mine 
curiously.  ‘Family obligations required me to be elsewhere.’”

“Finduilas regarded me shrewdly.  ‘Do you hale from Dol Amroth?’  She asked.  ‘I 
suspect you know that you have been the subject of a great deal of gossip, some of which 
has even reached my sheltered ears.  It would be quite a coup for me if I happened to 
mention over my sewing that I knew a bit of the mysterious Captain Thorongil’s history.  
I could go to dinner for a week on an especially piquant anecdote.’  Finduilas was smiling 
now, her natural grace and charm reasserting themselves now that she was warming up 
and the tea was starting to take effect.”

“’I am not from Dol Amroth.’  I replied, grateful that Finduilas seemed to have regained 
some of her color.  ‘I fear my story is not something I am able to speak about.  But you 
are welcome to make up any details which you think plausible.  I feel confident that you 
will be kinder than some.’”

“Finduilas shrugged comfortably and leaned further against Brannan whose eyes were 
already drifting shut.  ‘I could not do worse than some of your detractors if I claimed you 
were the Dark Lord’s own, though you have supporters who are likewise extreme.’  Now 
it was my turn to shrug.  I had never intended to have such a polarizing effect on 
Gondor’s politics.  In fact, that had been another reason to leave when I did.  ‘Still your 
story is your own.  You must forgive my curiosity I so rarely find myself in a position to 
discover matters of consequence.  Perhaps I should try to sleep now while I have the 
opportunity?”

“’Are you sure you will have nothing to eat first?’  I asked.  Though I was glad to have 
moved away from conversational topics I had trained myself to regard as dangerous 
Finduilas was pleasant company and it disturbed me that she had eaten nothing.”

“I could tell the lady was on the verge of declining when she suddenly stopped.  She 
seemed surprised for a moment as her hand descended to her still swollen stomach.  ‘I 
suppose I might try something: a little bread maybe?’  Quickly I retrieved a portion of the 
flat bread I carried with me.  By her reaction I guessed the herb I had added to the lady’s 
tea had had an effect.  Finduilas ate slowly as one unaccustomed to the activity.  By the 
time she had finished Brannan was asleep and Faramir was gurgling quietly to himself 
between his mother and her maid.”

“’I shall keep watch if you would like to rest.’  I offered.  Finduilas nodded her thanks 
and lay down wrapping herself, her child and the other woman tightly in her cloak.  
Sighing, for I was a little reluctant to leave the light of the fire for the cave entrance I rose 
and went to share warmth with Seraph.  It was still raining heavily, though the thunder 
and lightening seemed to have diminished.  As I settled to watch the rain I tried to think 
about tomorrow and how to get Finduilas and her child back in safe hands.”

“I was still staring into the night fifteen minutes later when an ear-splitting howl drove 
me from my reverie.  Fear gripped me as I drew my sword and hurriedly ran to the back 
of the cave.  I expected to find the women wide awake and frightened but when I reached 
them Brannan was yawning and Finduilas was slowing easing herself into a sitting 
position.  The child was still screaming his heart out as his mother lifted him into her 
arms.  Once I satisfied myself that no intruder had somehow entered the cave I sheathed 
my sword.”

“’Has he been injured?’  I asked drawing nearer so that I could examine the child.  
Perhaps the wind had carried a bit of ash onto him, or perhaps he had turned over onto a 
sharp stone.  I felt the panic of the babe’s cries speed my heart and fire my blood.  
Brannan actually snorted before turning onto her other side and closing her eyes.  I 
thought this seemed to be remarkably callous.  Was this the same woman who had 
attacked me so savagely in defense of Finduilas and the child earlier this same night?”

“Seeing my look Finduilas smiled as she gently patted the child’s back and the noise 
decreased very slightly.  ‘It was her turn last night.’  The lady explained.  I was still 
confused and this made Finduilas smile wider.  ‘He is not injured.  He just wants to be 
held.  He wants to be held every night, all night.’”

“’Doesn’t that make it difficult to sleep?’  I asked starting to feel a little embarrassed by 
my alarm.  The lady obviously had the situation well in hand.  My question caused 
Finduilas to laugh outright and I felt my face flush.  ‘I only meant that when you are 
recovering from an illness rest is important.’”

“’I had not heard that pregnancy was considered an illness.’  Finduilas said still smiling, 
though now she had a look in her eye which I had sometimes seen from Halbarad’s 
sisters right before something unpleasant was done to him.”  Of his audience only 
Gandalf and Legolas knew who Halbarad was and not even these two had ever met any 
of his sisters.  Even so, there seemed to universal understanding of just what look 
Aragorn was speaking of from the entire fellowship.  

“’Your concern is laudable.  Perhaps you would like to hold the little one since you have 
valiantly taken watch and have no ‘illness’ from which you need rest to recover.’  
Finduilas said shifting the still weeping bundle forward as though she expected I would 
take him.  I could not help but wonder if I had misjudged the herbs I had put in the lady’s 
tea.  Quillo root is a soporific and I meant only to make sleep a little easier after such a 
taxing night but too much of it can act upon the body like alcohol weakening the 
inhibitions, even clouding the judgment.  What other explanation could there be for this 
strange behavior?  I was about to explain how patently unreasonable it was to think that I 
would be able to soothe the child but before I could speak Finduilas had placed her infant 
son in my arms ”

Here Aragorn stopped.  He was suddenly overcome with the feelings he had when he had 
held the tiny human and looked into the large and trusting eyes.  Though perhaps it 
seemed strange, the dark-haired ranger had never held a baby before that moment.  In 
truth, he had rarely so much as seen an infant.  There were no children in Rivendell and 
he had not had any occasion to interact with anyone much under the age of fourteen when 
he had gone to live among the Dunedain.  Looking down, then, into the wide, innocent 
eyes of Faramir had moved him.  So much so that he was not entirely certain how to 
speak of it.  The child was utterly helpless and yet utterly confident that he would be 
loved and protected.  He had no idea what the future had in store for him.  He could not 
imagine the evil that befell even the strongest and most virtuous in this world yet the 
infant Faramir had quieted and looked up at the strange man his mother had given him to 
with complete faith.

Unconsciously, Aragorn’s gaze had sought out Frodo’s face as he thought on Faramir.  
The hobbit was likewise so innocent and in such desperate need of protection.  The 
comparison which was written clearly upon the ranger’s face was not entirely lost on the 
ringbearer either.  Frodo could not dispute the similarity for he knew himself to be at the 
mercy of people and forces he could hardly understand let alone control and it pained him 
to be a burden.  Yet, there was something about Aragorn’s story that comforted the 
hobbit.  It was a relief to Frodo that it was more than a sense of duty that motivated the 
ranger but rather a part of his very nature to look after those who needed it.  The hobbit, 
however, was not the only one to follow the direction of the ranger’s look.  Boromir saw 
too and his teeth ground together though the blond man would not have been able to 
explain why he was angry.

The rest of the fellowship was similarly caught up in their own thoughts.  The other 
hobbits were very much amused by the seemingly omnipotent Strider being so inept at 
something so simple.  Sam and Pippin were especially pleased.  The two smiled as they 
thought that while they might not be as skillful in some areas as their austere protector 
they, at least, knew how to take care of a fussing baby without needing to be told.  For his 
part, Legolas was able to detect something of his friend’s emotions and the prince 
wondered to himself how elves could have kept their beloved Estel so isolated from his 
own kindred.  It was only now that Legolas had started meeting other humans like 
Halbarad and now Boromir that the elf realized how terribly lonely Aragorn’s childhood 
had been.  The man’s ‘playmates’ had all been older than him by centuries and they had 
only a dim understanding of concepts such as hunger, fatigue and illness.

Gimli was quiet, too, though he was smiling.  The dwarf was thinking of all his nieces 
and nephews and wondering what antics they had been getting up to in his absence.  
Gandalf, who had not seemed to be listening still gazed into the fire.  The wizard was 
deeply troubled.  In his heart of hearts he trembled at what he knew awaited him in 
Moria.  He did not fear for himself, however, but for his companions.  He was generally 
aware of the fellowship’s emotions as Aragorn had told his story and though he was glad 
that the hobbits were amused and entertained he sensed something he could not identify 
from Boromir.  It made him nervous.  He was not certain but the old wizard thought he 
could hear Sauron’s ring laughing at him.

Boromir was utterly oblivious to the wizard’s fears and dark mood.  There was simply 
too much for the blond warrior to be able to sort it out all at once.  Tears pricked at the 
backs of his eyes as he picked up on the hints of loneliness and unhappiness in the 
description of his mother.  Finduilas had died when her first child was only eight and her 
son remembered her only as a kind but wistful woman.  Now Aragorn was telling him 
more about his mother than his father ever had and that in itself was something to think 
about.

Then too, there were all the political implications of the tale.  Boromir, himself, had 
narrowly avoided becoming a victim of a Haradrim plot when he had been fourteen and 
out on a scouting trip with his uncle.  It was easier for the enemy to infiltrate Dol Amroth 
than Minas Tirith because Imrahil refused to put his citizens through the sort of security 
measures that would be sure to keep the Haradrim out.  It was a subject upon which 
Denethor and his brother-in-law had often had hard words.  Then, too, the story also 
explained why Brannan- who had been Boromir’s nurse as well as Faramir’s and a 
mother to them both after Finduilas’ death- had slapped a soldier in the face and ordered 
him out of her sight, when the man had tried to tell her charges an old tale about ‘the 
overly-ambitious Thorongil’.  At the time, Boromir had just assumed his old nurse 
objected to war stories in the nursery but now it all made much more sense.

Other thoughts and ideas flashed through the blond warrior’s head faster than he could 
make sense of them.  ‘Why had the story never received wide public acclaim- Thorongil 
would have been a hero?’,  ‘Why had Boromir never heard the story?’  ‘Had Faramir ever 
been told?’, ‘Why did Aragorn feel he needed to go to Mordor of all places?’, ‘How 
much was Aragorn leaving out or glossing over to spare his- Boromir’s- sensibilities?’, 
‘Had Finduilas merely been recovering from her pregnancy or had she truly been ill and 
who had decided she had had to go back to Minas Tirith in such haste and with so few 
guards whatever the cause of her apparent weakness?’  ‘Despite his obvious patience did 
Aragorn ever get angry when fools failed to recognize him immediately for what her was- 
fools like Boromir had been?’  And ‘Who was this Halbarad character and why had 
Aragorn mentioned him at all?’

“Well, are you just going to leave it there, then?”  Pippin demanded after nearly a minute 
had passed in silence.  “I hope you don’t think any of us are going to get to sleep if you 
do.”

“It is getting quite late.”  Aragorn replied smiling a little at the hobbit’s impatience.  “I 
had not realized quite how long I had been talking.”

“Oh now you are just fishing for compliments.”  Merry squealed indignantly.  “All right.  
Yes, it’s a very interesting story.  Please finish it tonight, pretty please.  Pretty, pretty 
please!”

Aragorn took another sip of water and regarded Merry with a slightly wounded 
expression.  “Since you ask so nicely,”  The ranger said.  “how can I refuse?  But if you 
do not wish to stir yourselves at dawn tomorrow then you will have only yourselves to 
blame.”  Merry and Pippin exchanged smug grins and settled down once more.

“We never want to stir at dawn, no matter how early we go to bed.”  Pippin informed the 
ranger.  “You were just saying how Boromir’s Mum gave you his little brother to hold 
and you didn’t know what to do.”  The hobbit added helpfully.

“Just so.”  Aragorn confirmed.  “Though I don’t think I put it that way.”  Seeing that the 
hobbit cousins had a retort for this bit of self-defense the ranger hurried on.  “The little 
one did stop crying to evaluate the new creature who had suddenly entered his little 
world.  The child looked up at me quizzically and his small fist gripped my tunic.  
Hoping that I had accomplished what his mother had intended with the babe’s puzzled 
silence I tried to give him back but Finduilas had already started to settle herself once 
more into the blankets.”

“‘Just hold him, walk around with him.  Talk to him.  You may even sing to him if it is 
not beneath your dignity.’  Finduilas suggested before finally turning her back.  I was 
going to argue but just then the little one decided that the one to whom he had been given 
was failing to entertain him and he decided to complain.  I was still very unnerved by his 
cries for I could not believe such agonized shrieking was normal so, feeling rather 
helpless I stood up and began pacing back forth with the child in my arms.”

“’Hush, little one.  You will wake your lady mother and mistress Brannan.  They both 
need their sleep.  Shall we go see Seraph?  Will that be interesting?’  I asked pleadingly.  
I had been speaking in Sindarin for I thought the language would soothe the child and 
apparently it did for once more he quieted.  His mother had been correct and little 
Faramir did indeed wish only to be held and talked to.  He was easy to confide in as it 
happened, listening most attentively as I gave voice to my various thoughts.  Together we 
kept watch and I did sing a bit for I was often in the habit of singing quietly through a 
long watch and the little one did not object.”

“There were no more disturbances that night and as the sun rose on the storm-washed 
world I flattered myself that the little one and I had become fast friends.  I left the cave, 
taking advantage of the early dawn light to reconnoiter.  I was very pleased to discover 
that our little refuge was not readily visible. It was sheer luck that I had stumbled over it 
in last night’s storm for I was certain that I would not have noticed it had I been looking 
casually.”

“As I returned to the cave I gave Faramir a quick summary of the tactical advantages and 
disadvantages of our position.  It had been only a few hours but in that time I had become 
accustomed to speaking to the child- for he was most content when I interacted with him.  
Nodding a good morning to Seraph I made my way deeper into our refuge where the 
women were still sleeping.  I called softly but they did not wake.  Finally, I had to shake 
Brannan’s shoulder.  She came awake suddenly and I could not help but notice that her 
hand went directly to the knife at her belt before she became aware of her surroundings 
and turned to wake her lady.”

“As I returned Faramir to his mother the child once again grasped my tunic in his tiny 
fist.  ‘He will be a strong and valiant warrior, this one.’  I commented fondly as I 
extricated myself from his grip.”

“’Oh, will you listen to him.’  Brannan scoffed all but rolling her eyes.  ‘Several hours 
ago I believe you were afraid to touch him and now I suppose you consider yourself an 
expert.’”

“’I believe the Captain is considered an expert on warriors if not upon children.’  
Finduilas said kindly, gently rocking the child in question who had greeted his mother’s 
embrace with a resumption of his nighttime tears.  ‘But, even so, all infants have great 
strength of grip for the first few weeks of life.  I have heard that is so they can cling to 
their mothers but I do not know if that is true.’”

“Whatever the case, he will be a warrior.’  I repeated.  “He will find it within himself to 
face down a Naz-gul.”  I was not entirely certain why I insisted but as I looked down 
upon the little one the words simply came.  Finduilas smiled, perhaps assuming I spoke 
only out of a sense of duty.  Brannan, however, was no longer smiling and I saw from the 
corner of my eye that she made a sign that was sometimes used either to invoke or 
acknowledge a blessing.”

“’Well then, Captain, now that you have recruited my son, how shall we proceed?’  
Finduilas inquired returning to business.”

“’If my memory serves me, my lady, the nearest garrison is somewhat more than thirty 
miles south.  If I encounter no delays then I can reach the outpost before noon.  It is 
possible that I may return with aid as early as this evening though I think tomorrow 
morning more probable.’  I was not certain whether I should have- in pure military style- 
enumerated the problems I was likely to encounter:  Most obviously I might not be 
believed.  There was a chance the garrison commander would clap me in irons as a 
madman spreading dangerous stories.  Then, too, I had only seen the outpost on a map 
and maps could be unreliable.  I had other worries but ultimately I decided that it would 
do more harm than good to speak of all the things that might go wrong.”

“’You are not going to leave us here by ourselves?’  Brannan demanded sounding 
anxious.  Finduilas, too, looked suddenly nervous but she remained quiet waiting for me 
to answer Brannan.”

“I think you will be safer here than on the road.  I will leave my remaining provisions 
which should be more than enough for the little time I will be gone.  This cave is well-
hidden and I shall do more to conceal it from view before I go.  No one will find you 
here.”  I said as reassuringly as I could though Brannan did not look the least convinced.”

“’Are you sure that we should not go with you?’  Finduilas asked.  ‘What if something 
were to happen to you on the way?  What if no one believes you?  What if those men find 
us?  Must you go alone?  I would feel safer with you by us, Captain.’”

 “’My lady, if you are determined not to stay here, then of course I will do all that I may 
to protect you until we reach the garrison, but it is my best judgement that you and the 
child are better off here where you may rest and avoid notice.’  The ladies were richly 
dressed and clearly of high birth.  The sight of two gentlewomen carrying a child and 
accompanied by a single disreputable looking man with a war-horse would draw every 
rogue and bandit for miles.”

“’We will trust to your judgment, then, and await your return.’  Finduilas decided.  I 
bowed accepting the responsibility of the lady’s trust.”

“Quickly, I laid out all my rations for the women and put aside most of my baggage.  I 
wanted to travel fast and I did not want to burden Seraph with any unnecessary weight.  
When I was ready I bid Finduilas and Brannan stay within the cave while I arranged the 
brush and fallen leaves in such a way as to make the small opening in the cliff face all but 
invisible.  When I had made the women as secure as I could I mounted Seraph and 
headed south.”

“I made good time for Seraph was sure-footed even over the rain slick ground.  The roads 
were not crowded for rain was falling in a slow drizzle.  Those few who were about were 
mostly men traveling together in threes and fours hoods drawn up over their faces and 
boots squelching in the mud.  Seeing them I was glad that the women had consented to 
remain behind.  No one attempted to hinder me, however, for I carried a sword and 
Seraph looked dangerous.”

“I reached the small garrison well before noon.  Pleased to have mad such good time I 
informed the sentinel on duty that I had a message for the commander.  A young 
guardsman was summoned to escort me through the gate and then I was shown into a 
small office.  ‘The Commander is not here, sir, but his second is just finishing a circuit of 
the grounds and should be here in just a moment.’  The boy said politely.  I asked him the 
name of the commander and his second, unfortunately I knew neither man.  Then the 
guardsman excused himself leaving me alone in the office.  I was not happy at this turn of 
events for I thought it would be harder to convince a subordinate officer that he should 
take a chance I might be telling the truth than a man accustomed to taking the initiative.”

“I waited several minutes before the door opened and a very young man entered the 
room:  ‘I’m Lieutenant Vidrik, you have something for me?’  My first inclination was to 
chide him for allowing a stranger to go unattended for even a second in a place where 
potentially sensitive information was stored but I suppressed the impulse."

"'I have a message from lady Finduilas urgently requesting aid for herself and her 
newborn son.'  I informed the man quietly.  Vidrik was speechless and I waited patiently 
for him to recover himself."

"'What are you talking about?'  The man demanded."

"I am talking about the lady Finduilas, princess of Dol Amroth, wife to Denethor, the 
Steward’s heir, and mother to his sons.  The few guards that were sent with her are dead.  
They were betrayed to the Haradrim by a man called Tirvan.'  I said remembering the 
traitor's name that had been revealed while I hid among my enemies.  'Captain Rodrin 
and the rest died defending their lady and if you act quickly they will not have died in 
vain.'"

"The lieutenant was now clearly frightened.  I had established that I knew much more 
than I could if this was only some mad prank.  Still Vidrik knew nothing about me and an 
evaluation of my trustworthiness had suddenly become of the utmost importance.  'How 
do you know this?'  The man whispered coming toward me suddenly.  They had allowed 
me to keep my sword and I had to concentrate not to grasp the hilt."

“’I found the lady in the house where she had sought shelter last night.  All her guards 
had been killed.’  I repeated.  Seeing the man’s expression turn thoughtful I pressed 
ahead.  ‘But perhaps you had some report of this?  Where has your Commander gone?’”

“’Some Haradrim were caught just a few hours ago.  They were tearing through the 
countryside as though looking for someone.’  The man answered.  ‘My commander went 
to oversee the interrogation.  We did not know- We did not think about Lady Finduilas.  
We just assumed it was just a raid.  Is she unharmed?’  The man was understandably 
upset but I was glad that now he fully understood the gravity of the situation.”

“’She was when I left her at dawn’  I responded.  ‘But you must send men to her 
immediately.  She is hiding and though you may have captured the Haradrim she is still 
vulnerable.’”

“’Of course, at once, of course.’  Lieutenant Vidrik agreed.  ‘You, you know where she 
is?  You can guide us there?’”

“’Yes, I will take you to her.’  I assured him.  The man nodded but did not move.  
‘Assemble a small troop and send for a healer to await our return in case there is need.  
Also, if you have enough men available, send a patrol to the house where the guards were 
killed so that the bodies may be recovered and honorably buried.  It is near where the 
lady has hidden.  I shall point it out.’  I suggested quietly.  The man obeyed with apparent 
relief, for he was still very young.  Calling a soldier into the office and relaying the 
instructions.  When the soldier left to carry out the orders the Lieutenant remained with 
me and for a while we stood in silence.”

“’I have not yet asked your name.  What are you called?  And what is your involvement 
in this?’  Vidrik finally asked breaking the silence and trying not to shuffle his feet in 
embarrassment over not asking this earlier.  I scrutinized the man carefully.  I had 
considered several ways of answering and was pleased with none of them.”

“’I am called Thorongil and my involvement is that of soldier fulfilling his duty.’  I 
announced mustering all the authority I could.”

“’Thorongil?  It seems to me I have heard that name.’  The lieutenant pondered.  The man 
no longer doubted either my motives of my veracity but he had become quite curious.  
His curiosity, however, was not welcome and I fear I was stern with him.”

“’You have indeed heard the name for I have just spoken it to you.’  I said severely.  
‘Your men should have had more than enough time to assemble.  Let us not delay.’  
Chastened, the man followed as I strode from the office.”

“The journey from the garrison back to the cave took longer than did the journey from the 
cave to the garrison.  In part because the roads were in poor shape and there were more of 
us traveling them but also because, as we approached nearer our goal, I had to take time 
to study the landscape.  At dusk, Vidrik and his thirty soldiers drew rein at my signal.”

“’There is a cave twenty yards up this slope.  I left the women there.’  I explained 
dismounting.  Vidrik dismounted also and with five of his men followed me to the cave 
entrance I had tried to conceal earlier.”

“’My lady, Mistress Brannan.’  I called as I approached so I would not alarm the ladies 
with my sudden appearance.  I received no answer and I began to fear for I had been gone 
nearly an entire day.  ‘It is Thorongil, I have returned.  My lady!’  I had arrived at the 
cave entrance and I saw that the branches and rocks I had arranged had been moved.  It 
was most likely that Brannan or Finduilas had left the cave during the day for fresh air or 
some other reason and then returned but even so I was becoming nervous.”

“The next moment Brannan was standing at the cave entrance knife in hand, an 
expression of fierce determination on her face.  Knowing her predilection for violence 
upon meeting new people I raised my hands to indicate peace.  As she recognized me her 
expression changed.  Just as she had done the night before the woman flew towards me.  
Instinctively I shut my eyes thinking to protect them from her nails but instead she flung 
her arms around my neck, the knife still clutched tightly in her hand.  The embrace did 
not last long.  Brannan quickly released me and retreated a few paces back to the cave.”

“’It’s all right.  It’s him.  He’s come back.  It’s all right!’  The maiden called back.  
Brannan’s eyes shone with unshed tears.  The woman had been exceptionally brave 
throughout the entire ordeal but now that it was coming to an end her control was finally 
slipping just a little.  Now that I was back I could somehow see more clearly how 
terrifying that long day of waiting must have been for the women.”

“Vidrik, it pains me to inform you, was somewhat amused by Brannan’s enthusiastic 
reception.  The callow youth was trying unsuccessfully to suppress a smile.  That smile 
transformed, though, the moment Finduilas emerged from the cave moving carefully and 
holding Faramir against her breast.  The lady looked pale, her hair unkempt and the 
occasional tremor ran through her.  Suddenly, young Vidrik’s eyes were as full as 
Brannan’s.  Finduilas smiled a wordless greeting to me as I carefully took her arm to lead 
her down to where Gondor’s soldiers awaited her.”

“’My lady- my lady, are you all right?’  Vidrik questioned hovering close to the mother 
and child as the entire troop sped about fetching a camp stool, offering wine, bringing 
blankets, doing anything that might conceivably be of comfort to the lady.”

“’I am all right thanks to your arrival.  I am very grateful, Captain. . .’  Finduilas 
answered after accepting a sip from a flask that had been hurriedly pressed into her 
hand.”

“’Lieutenant, ma’am.  Lieutenant Vidrik.  I cannot explain how this calamity came about.  
We have fallen short in our duty, permitting such a thing.  You have my sincerest 
apologies.  I’m so sorry you had to go through such a nightmare. . .’  The Lieutenant 
continued in that vein for a while Finduilas reassured him.”

“A rider had been sent back to the garrison to report the situation and another had been 
sent to tell the men at the manner house to prepare for the arrival of the mother and child.  
Neither Finduilas nor Brannan was pleased to be returning to that place but it was 
growing late and it was agreed that Finduilas should be made to travel as little as possible 
that night.”

“I stood in the background watching the activity.  To my mind the situation had been 
resolved.  It was time for me to leave.  Waiting until Vidrik was between conversations I 
approached him quietly:  ‘If you have a moment, Lieutenant?’”

“Vidrik turned and gave me his full attention, even going so far as to straighten his back 
and shoulders as he faced me.  ‘Yes, sir.’  I raised an eyebrow at the young man not 
altogether pleased.  Vidrik colored slighted.  ‘I remembered, Captain, where I had heard 
your name.’  The man explained”

“’Perhaps that is just as well.’  I said, my lips compressed into a thin line.  ‘It is not my 
place to tell you your duty but I must ask a favor: Speak of me and my part in this as little 
as possible in your report.  If you must speak of me at all then do so to the Lord Steward 
alone.  And prevail upon my lady to do likewise.’  My name was a point of controversy 
and this story would only further antagonize various political factions.  What was more I 
was always afraid to bring the sort of scrutiny down on myself that fame invited.”

“’Captain, how can I do that?  Why should I do that?’  The Lieutenant asked taken aback.  
‘You are a hero.  My lady was just beginning to tell me of the events of yesterday.  You 
saved her life.  All of Gondor should be singing your praises.’”

“I shook my head firmly.  ‘You say you remember my name.  Do you remember aught 
that was said about me?’  I asked.”

“The man shrugged.  ‘The talk was that you were a particular favorite of Ecthelion but 
that you were not born in Gondor and had no family of note so that some feel you rose 
higher in the ranks than you should have done.’  Vidrik laughed.  ‘Some people are going 
to be made to look very foolish when this story gets out.’”

“’Did you not also hear that I left Ecthelion’s service?’  I inquired and Vidrik nodded.  
‘Let us say a man leaves a position that affords him both honor and the luxuries of life.  
Let us further suppose that this man lets it be known in certain quarters that he was forced 
from that position by jealousy and bigotry and that he bitterly resents those who rejected 
him.  Now this man is approached by others who wish to be his friend.  They claim to 
sympathize.  The man complains indignantly of his unjust treatment.  As it turns out these 
others also have a grievance and they would make common cause.  The man is eager to 
cooperate and to develop a partnership.  In the course of that alliance the man comes to 
learn of things which those he had openly served in the past would very much like to 
know.  Let us say that the man, then, passes that information back to the one he served 
originally.’  Vidrik was only just following my words.  I locked eyes with him and took 
the next step for him.

“’How do you imagine I learned of the plot against the lady and her son, with only just 
enough time to thwart it?  Now let us say that this story is told and- as you suggest- my 
name is praised throughout Gondor.  The Haradrim will suppose just as we have been 
supposing and then what do you think will happen to me and to the stream of information 
that somehow finds its way to Minas Tirith about the plans of our Southron neighbors?’  I 
paused gazing intently at the man.  ‘Do not speak my name to any save lord Ecthelion.’  I 
finished earnestly.”  

“’O- Oh!’  Vidrik said finally drawing the conclusion I intended.  I had, some time 
earlier, done some espionage on behalf of Gondor so I was not making the story up 
entirely out of whole cloth but I could not help but feel a little guilty about lying to the 
man as I watched his eyes widen.  ‘I swear I will not speak to anyone about your 
involvement except the steward himself.’  I nodded, acknowledging his promise.  
Ecthelion had always been indulgent about my- to his mind obsessive- desire for 
anonymity.  I hoped he would continue to be tolerant when the story reached him.”

“’It is passed time for me to go, Lieutenant Vidrik.  Take care of my lady and her son and 
if you would deliver this to her at your convenience, I would be grateful.’  The lieutenant 
nodded and accepted the scrap of paper upon which I had scribbled the name and 
qualities of the herb I had given her last night and that had seemed to help her.  Then 
Vidrik extended his hand and I shook it.”

“It took me a while to collect my belongings and I begged a few extra rations from the 
soldiers’ supplies but finally I was ready to depart.  I had nearly made it to Seraph when 
my name was called.  Intending to ignore it I hurried on.  ‘Captain Thorongil!’  The voice 
repeated more urgently.  Then I heard the swishing of skirts and felt an insistent tap on 
my shoulder.  ‘Captain?’  I turned around defeated.”

“’Mistress Brannan, how may I serve you?’  I gave the woman a look which I was sure 
would have reduced Vidrik to stammering apologies but Brannan ignored it.” 

“’You aren’t leaving, are you?  I know my lady will only feel safe in that awful house if 
you are there.’  Brannan said and her voice was accusing.”

“’Lieutenant Vidrik will see that no harm comes to her.  Now, if you will excuse-‘  But it 
was no use.”

“’You must at least say farewell.’  Brannan insisted and I could almost hear her saying:  -
That’s what a gentleman would do.-  Resigned I nodded and followed her.”  Aragorn 
might have resisted a man but women were different.  There had been very little female 
influence in his life.  All he knew of women he had extrapolated from what he knew of 
Halbarad’s sisters and all of those young ladies looked to Aragorn- as friend, chieftain 
and father surrogate- for kindness and gentleness.  He felt such protective affection for 
his friend’s family that Aragorn could not quite bring himself to exercise the requisite 
firmness with Brannan.

“Finduilas sat at the center of a circle of anxious guards.  The men gave her about ten feet 
of space to herself.  They were trying not to stare so that she could have at least the 
illusion of privacy but they also wanted to be attentive to anything she might need.  As I 
approached the circle widened giving us a bit more space for private conversation.”

“I bowed before the lady and waited for her to speak.  She studied me for a moment 
before drawing the bit of paper I had given Vidrik for her from her sleeve.  ‘Thank you 
for this.’  I nodded and she replaced the paper.”

“’Vidrik tells me you are leaving and that ‘for the good of Gondor’  I must be discreet to 
the point of ingratitude about my rescuer.’  She said still gazing at me.”

“’It must be so, madam.  I beg you to indulge me.’  I replied.”

“Very well, Captain.’  The lady acquiesced a little disappointed for I believe she desired 
more details.  ‘But I cannot allow you to leave without offering you some reward.’  I 
shook my head in refusal.”

“’There must be something.  You have saved my life and the life of my son.  You must 
allow me to give you something.’  Finduilas insisted.”

“’My lady, there is nothing I desire.’  I replied”

“’Nothing you desire that I can give you.’  The lady amended and I had to acknowledge 
the truth of this.”  Aragorn paused again, took a sip of water, then another.  He seemed to 
be arguing with himself.  After a moment and another sip of water he appeared to have 
decided.

“Finduilas then wished me a safe journey and I bowed.  With the lady’s permission I 
reached out to Faramir and let the child clutch my finger.  I smiled as I moved my finger 
up and down in a modified handshake.  Then I took my leave of them.  Traveling through 
the night in case Vidrik’s commander decided it would be a good idea to search for the 
now anonymous stranger.  A week later I passed into Mordor but in that desolate place I 
thought often of the little babe and the image sustained me through much that was grim 
and bleak.”

A collective sigh ran through the fellowship as Aragorn concluded.  “That was a good 
story, Strider.  Thank you.”  Merry said and then yawned.  There was murmured 
agreement all around as well as a general reaching for blankets and stretching of limbs.  
In a few minutes the fellowship was settled in to sleep.  Gandalf had moved off to take 
first watch and the others were quickly drifting into sleep, all save Boromir who was 
wide awake thoughts spinning wildly.