The Price of Pride

Elvish translations

Hannon chen – thank you


Chapter 67


Almost as soon as we turned back to retrace our steps, the wind calmed and the snowfall slackened. I was tempted to suggest trying again, if only to see if Saruman was still watching, but the Fellowship had made a decision. However difficult the next few days would prove for me, I would abide by the will of the company.

We traveled as far as we could before nightfall, stopping to camp amid a circle of rocks and trees where we hoped to find some shelter from the elements that, though less harsh than atop Caradhras, were nonetheless still dangerous to my mortal companions.

As we set up camp and prepared our meal, we talked of the day’s events and our plans for the next day. “Saruman obviously knows that we have set out and that we hoped to take the pass of Caradhras,” Aragorn observed. “How much danger does that knowledge pose?”

“Saruman is many things,” Gandalf answered, “powerful, cunning, and now, under Sauron’s sway. He is not, however, infallible. He will not be able to touch us in Moria, for we will be away from the clouds and the wind which he can control. Moria is not without its own dangers, but Saruman cannot influence those.”

“When we leave Moria,” I added, “we will be only a day’s journey from Lórien. None can touch us there.”

“None but the Elf witch,” Gimli muttered under his breath. I started to speak, to defend the Lady of the Golden Wood, but Boromir interrupted me.

“How far is Moria?” he asked, obviously worried about what was ahead.

“There was a door south-west of Caradhras, some fifteen miles as the crow flies. If we leave at first light, we should reach it by nightfall tomorrow,” Gandalf replied. Arien had set, and the light was fading quickly. We doused the fire so as not to reveal our position to any that might be watching.

I had just taken upwatcwatch when Aragorn came to stand beside me. “How the wind howls,” he muttered. “It is the howling of wolf-voices. The Wargs have come west of the mountains,” he warned me in Elvish, not wanting to upset the Hobbits who were trying to sleep nearby. I nodded, accepting his warning. Though it was not his watch, he settled himself on the opposite side of the camp, as alert as I was. Bill the pony shifted restlessly, obviously upset by the sounds, though none of the Fellowship seemed to be resting easily. The sounds grew nearer in the night, as the pack searched for our scent. I nocked an arrow in my bow and waited, senses alert for any sign that they had found us and were ready to begin their attack.

As my watch wore on, I could see shining eyes peering over the brow of the hill, approaching and retreating from the circle of stones, almost as if they were testing our defenses. A great dark wolf-shape appeared at a gap in the circle, eyes glowing as it focused on me. It let loose a terrible shriek, almost as if calling its fellows. I waited no more, loosing an arrow with a sharp twang of my bow. My aim was true, and the leaping shape thudded to the ground, my arrow having pierced its throat. I moved forward cautiously to investigate. Aragorn had been right. The Wargs had come west, and this pack at least was hunting us. “The others will come,” Aragorn said softly, coming to stand beside me.

“And we will be ready,” I replied, setting another arrow to the string. He had his own bow in hand, sword buckled around his waist.

“That we will,” he agreed, hand coming to rest for a moment on my shoulder. I drew more strength from that simple touch that I ever could from the trees around us. Then he released me, returning to his spot.

I knew the Warg had not been alone, so I stretched my senses as far as I could, even asking the forest around us for information. These trees were not so friendly as the ones in the woods at home. They had not known Elves for many an age and were not inclined to talk. Still, I could sense the pack of Wargs moving closer, even without their active assistance.

When the attack came, silently, I was ready, shouting an alarm to my companions as I fired, my bow singing as I dispatched arrow after arrow into the attacking beasts. Behind me, I could hear the sounds of battle, the dull thud of Aragorn’s and Boros sws swords as they made contact with animal flesh, Gimli’s shouts and grunts as he wielded his axe. I circled around as I fought, trying to find Aragorn out of the corner of my eye. Though I knew him to be a capable warrior, I was very conscious of my promise to Arwen. I did not need to fight beside him, only to keep him in sight so I could intervene if he needed my help. Then, from nowhere came a great flash of light and Gandalf’s voice, resounding like thunder. “Naur an edraith ammen! Naur dan i ngaurhoth!” he cried, calling down fire. And the trees burned brightly around us. Even the arrows that I shot caught fire before they landed in the hearts of my targets. The Wargs turned and fled.

Slowly the fire burned itself out. Little was left of the night, by then, but none of us dared sleep. We had routed the pack for the moment, but that did not mean they would not return. I could see the Hobbits staring at Gandalf with a mixture of fear awe awe. This was a side of him they had clearly never seen before. I had always smiled a little at the picture he presented to the world, an old, unprepossessing man dressed all in grey, with a grey beard, an easy laugh, and a twinkle in his eye. Few, if any, seeing him, would realize the full extent of his power. I wondered, as we sat there, if I even had any idea of its full extent. Nothing I had seen him do so far had surprised me, but I did not know if these displays were the limit of his abilities.

My gaze wandered to the other warriors in our little band. Aragorn’s skills I knew almost as well as my own. We had trained with the same swordmaster and had fought side by side, though it was years ago. I knew from Arwen that he had fought in two armies since then. If anything, his skills would be greater now than when we had fought together before. Prior to that night, the other two had been unknowns to me. Boromir was the son of the Steward of Gondor, so I was sure he had been trained to fight. His stance and his gait had suggested it. Now, I had seen him in battle and knew that he would be an asset to our quest. Gimli was the biggest surprise to me. I had never seen Dwarves fight before, and I had doubted how much help he would be in battle, given his short stature. I had underestimated him. He had stood firmly during the battle, swinging his axe with deadly precision, bringing down as many Wargs as Boromir had. Thus began my respect for the Dwarf. The friendship came later.

“They will never stop hunting us,” Aragorn commented, coming to sit beside me.

“Nay,” I agreed, “but we can hope that our path will stop them for us. They will not follow us into Moria.”

“I wonder at the wisdom of our road,” he told me softly.

“As do I,” I said, “but I am not sure we had any other choice. You said yourself that the Gap of Rohan would take us too close to Isengard, and any otpathpath would lead us so far out of our way that we would lose whatever advantage we have in speed and secrecy. Saruman knows we have left Rivendell, but Sauron may not yet, and none know our destination. If only we survive Moria.”

“You fear it,” Aragorn observed, surprised. “Why?”

His question caught me off guard. The answer was simple enough. I feared that my strength would fail without the trees to support me and my my feelings, the grief and loss thastilstill felt, even after all these years, would overwhelm me. I feared to return to the nights when using my knife to end my torment seemed easier than living to face the dawn. I could not, however, tell that to Aragorn. He had never known the true extent of my feelings for him and he believed that I had long since gotten over whatever feelings I had had. Now was not the time to tell him otherwise. I did not know if there would ever be a good time to tell him that I still loved him and always would, but I did know that the middle of this quest was not that time. Still, he was waiting for an answer. I gave him the most truthful answer I could.

“I am a wood-Elf, Aragorn. I need the trees and the wind and the sky to survive. I do not know how long I will be able to function without them. Four days seems like such a short time, yet how long could youwithwithout breathing? The touch of the wind, the song of the trees are as essential to me as air or water. I do not know what I will do without them,” I explained.

“I will help you if I can,” he assured me.

“Hannon chen,” I replied, thinking that perhaps he could help me. I only hoped that accepting his help would not reveal the shattered state of my heart.