Almost there. Auros bent the bow, his brow furrowed in concentration. A little more. The loop slid into place. "There! Bow restrung. I can resume hunting. How's the fishing going? Caught anything yet?"
"Besides the worm I'm using as bait, you mean?" Farothel grimaced at the water.
"So no then." Auros put his tools away and tested the new bowstring.
"Not a bite--- wait, here we go!"
"How's the fishing?" Grandpa returned from hunting just as Farothel pulled his catch from the water.
"One so far, and not a bad size at all! I see you were luckier with the rabbits."
"Aye. We'll eat well tonight. We still have some vegetables in our rations, but we're going to start foraging for more tomorrow."
"Grandpa, when are you going to tell us why we're out here?" Farothel cast his line again. "Not that I don't enjoy your company."
"That's why we're out here; because I enjoy your company." Grandpa's grin was as close to a hug and a hair ruffle as possible from across a campsite.
"I meant where are we going?"
"You'll just have to wait until we get there. Don't worry, you'll see plenty. This is your first visit to Eregion and I don't want you to miss anything. I waited until you were both of age so we could do this right."
Auros went back to testing his bow. He wasn't less curious than Farothel, he just knew this was going to play out at Grandpa's pace. Grandpa had no use for extravagant pomp. He observed simple rites when appropriate, preferring small, quiet moments imbued with significance rather than hollow, grandiose affairs that were more about who was attending than what was celebrated. For him, the event itself was too soon lost amidst the clutter of aggrandizement. It was a sentiment Auros found himself in agreement with. Still, Grandpa didn't mind creating a sense of mystery when he had something special planned.
Both Auros and Farothel understood that Grandpa had a purpose for all he did. There was never a wasted day when they were with him. They either learned some skill, gained some insight, or even just had fun. As the trek deeper into Eregion proved to be all but a stroll, they agreed that since Grandpa was in no hurry to reach their destination, they shouldn't be either. If he wanted to amble through the wilderness, they didn't want to spoil his designs with impatience.
No horses had they brought, no gear but what they themselves could carry. They'd followed the river southwest, at least until the Ridge came into view. Once they'd crossed the border the ambling began; southward and eastward mostly, but west as well when Grandpa saw fit, and sometimes northward again only to turn and follow another invisible trail leading south. Auros had yet to discern the purpose of the path they took; Farothel had stopped trying. They hunted and foraged as necessary, though as they moved further south Auros noticed an unusual ease and haste with which Grandpa acquired provisions from the vegetation. The days were spent learning about the land, the plants and trees, or the history of the occasional ruin. The nights were passed with games, conversation, and song from the lighting of the fire to the dousing of the dull embers. In short, Grandpa was having fun spending time with his grandsons.
Leisurely the pace remained, even when one day, somewhere east of Nin-in-Eilph, at last their journey seemed to gain direction. A sense of eagerness seeped into Grandpa's demeanor, increased by each mile southward. "We're almost there!"
"Almost where?" Farothel realized it was a foolish question even as the words escaped.
"Almost where I want us to be, of course!"
"But will 'there' want us to be there?" A smirk formed on Auros' lips.
"We're always welcome there, my boy. We'll go another league or two, then we can rest."
In the afternoon of the following day, Auros tapped the hilt of his sword, surveying the trees. It wasn't long after their second rest that he'd felt a change around him, like he'd crossed an unseen threshold. He'd seen holly for days, and each tree was very much like the next. Here, he thought he could tell one from another as certain as he could tell Aldawë from Dinmir. There was nothing of note in their appearance that made them distinct from those that came before; but some quality, something that danced on the borders of his perception, made them seem to Auros more individual than any tree he'd seen along the way. What's more, the atmosphere in this area was inviting, reassuring. It felt like Grandpa's house. It felt like home.
"I almost feel like I should walk up and introduce myself." Farothel had drawn closer while Auros was lost in his own thought. A sense of awe reduced his voice to a whisper.
"Aye."
"And the last couple of places Grandpa stopped to forage, he knew exactly what to look for and where to find it. It's more like he's picking from his garden than finding food in the wild."
"I'm finding that idea less surprising the further we go. We should remember where he stopped."
"Why?"
Auros shot a grin at Farothel. "Who do you think is going to do the foraging on the way back?"
Not long after, they arrived at the bottom of a cliff lined with bushes. Grandpa patted the cliff wall and grinned. "Here is our first goal. Now we just need to go to the top."
Silence hung in the air. Grandpa was waiting for someone to ask how. After an exchange of glances with Farothel, Auros took it upon himself to take the bait. "The nearest path upward is half a mile back the way we came, unless you have something in mind other than climbing the face of the cliff."
Grandpa's eyes lit up. "Come here." He leaned close to the wall and set his eyes to the right.
Auros followed Grandpa's example. Cheek pressed against the cool stone, he spotted a staircase carved into the cliff, camouflaged against the face. "I knew it."
"Then you can go first."
The stairs were a little worn with age but quite stable as Auros dashed to the top, pulling his bow from his back so it wouldn't scuff against the rock. He leapt over the last step and was rewarded with a grand view of the surrounding land before the others caught up: the ribbon of the Glanduin shimmering to the South, interrupted by the broken crown of a tower not yet cast down; holly as far as can be seen to the north; and in the West, if he stared hard enough he thought he could make out the shapes of wings as the swans circled and landed in the marshes joining into the Gwathlo. In the East he could make out a distant silhouette of broken towers: the ruins of Ost-in-Edhil, capital of the fallen realm of Eregion.
Wait.
Auros tensed as he felt the change around him. Nearby birds fell silent. Insects stopped chirping. The tree branches changed in the way they rustled. He was upwind so he couldn't catch a scent. Someone else was here, someone he didn't know. He spun around and nocked an arrow as an intruder emerged from the brush.
"Peace!" The intruder pulled back his hood to reveal an elf.
Auros kept his bow drawn. "You are a ranger of Eregion?"
"Yes. Call me Battaisto. You are Auros, grandson of Berion."
"Aye, I am. What brings you here?"
"I should be asking you that." A wry grin worked its way onto Battaisto's face.
"I do. You can lower your bow, Auros." As Grandpa's eyes rose above the staircase, Battaisto saluted. "So that leads us back to Auros' question: what brings you out here, Battaisto?" Even at ease his bearing spoke of one accustomed to command.
"I was tasked with surveying the terrain overseen by this ridge. As I peered out, I happened to spot a band of three approaching, so I decided to wait and see who they were. We received no word of travelers, so anyone seen walking these bounds is of note."
"I see. Will you be rushing off to report, or would you like to join us for supper? It won't be extravagant, but you're welcome to it. I'm afraid we've brought no wine, so unless you've crawled through the brush with a bottle or two of your own, you'll have to settle for water."
A new smile worked its way onto Battaisto's face, as if Grandpa's words kindled a fond memory of a not-so-fond era, the kind forged between comrades in hard times. "Our meals of late have not been quite so exuberant. Alas, I cannot stay. I was ordered to make my survey and return without delay. You three are welcome to accompany me, if you wish, and dine with us. The fare might be little better, but there will be more comfort and more light."
"We appreciate the offer, but I've seen the inside of that tower as much as I wish to in one life. That fate now belongs to others. I will not go there again, for any reason."
"As you wish." He shot a glance to Auros. "Your grandson wears your glare better than you do."
"Aye, he does." Grandpa rested his hand on Auros' shoulder.
Battaisto pulled his hood back over his head. "You face no danger here, but I suspect you know that. May the stars shine upon the end of your road. It was good to see you again, Captain."
"Aye, it's been too long. Give my regards to my replacement."
Once Battaisto was gone, Grandpa pointed to the tower standing in the distance. "There are still a handful in good enough condition. They've been serviced over the years; not so much to draw attention, but enough to be usable by those who still keep watch in these lands, to gather, and plan, and to store provisions. We won't be going that way." He shifted his gaze more to the east and raised his finger again. "That is where our journey leads us."
Onwards they pressed, journeying for another mile or two before setting camp for the night. After two more days they came to a small house set amidst the ruins of a wall. Between the two, the house was of newer make, but it too had begun to show signs of age. At one edge of the wall sat doors leading down into a cellar. At the other flowers had overtaken the containment of a large stone circle. Still, evidence remained that this garden was tended often.
"This is where your grandmother and I lived for many years before your fathers were born, and for many after until she sailed West. Stand guard, Auros. Farothel, follow me."
Into the cellar Farothel went with Grandpa while Auros kept watch. There was little to see inside the house as he waited. No grand ornaments sat on display; nothing of more than common use was seen. Anything of value Grandpa had long since moved to Imladris. Tables, chairs, and beds were all the comforts it still contained, if bare slabs of polished, shaped wood could be considered "comfortable." Though he had never been here, Auros could imagine how it once looked: as one entered the door a clock stood by the fireplace. Tapestries and portraits lined the walls. The handrail of the stairs still had a shine where, as children, his and Farothel's dads would grip it to leap over. The walls still whispered a faint memory of flowers from the garden outside if one leaned close enough. As he entered the kitchen he could almost smell the bread dough rising.
The outside proved as barren of adornment. Except for the flower bed, grass grew unkempt on all sides of the house. In some places, it stood as tall as the wall that set a border around everything. The cellar door was the only structure visible besides. If there had been more, it had long since been claimed by nature.
When they at last emerged from the cellar, Farothel bore a thoughtful gaze aimed at something in his hand. He went inside the house, but Grandpa remained by the cellar door. "Come with me, Auros."
Past old shelves and beyond empty wine racks, Auros and Grandpa made their way to the far wall of the cellar. This wasn't what he'd shown Farothel; the dust was still well-settled where it had lain for more years than Auros could guess. A lantern sat long prepared on a shelf nearby. "Watch." Grandpa put his hand to a brick and pushed. There was a click, and part of the wall creaked back. Grandpa blew the dust from the lantern and put a match to the wick. "Follow me."
Deep the tunnel went, past many branches sealed to shore up and protect the main path. Grandpa anticipated his question.
"Those were closed long before your father's time. Nothing lies beyond them that you wish to see. Our destination is ahead."
Onward they continued, until the darkness beyond their lantern had become impenetrable. Auros felt as much as saw the walls penning them in. Deeper and deeper they trekked, until the stifling press relented. Compared to the dense air of the tunnel even the small stone room they'd come to was a reprieve. In the greater space the air seemed fresh again as he paced its borders, holding the lantern up to examine them. Evidence of many repairs over many years he saw, but he found nothing of interest in the room except in the center where a small chest sat.
"I've prepared for both you and Farothel an inheritance according to your needs and nature. Besides his share of what wealth I have, I've given into Farothel's keeping some heirlooms set aside by myself and your grandmother for him and his betrothed. He was also given some items to be granted to whom and when the time is right. For you, I have a different inheritance in mind, one I know you will value more than any gold or trinkets I could bequeath." From his neck Grandpa drew a key on a chain. He used it to unlock the chest, then draped the chain around Auros' neck. "Have a look."
Auros knelt and lifted the lid. Inside he saw a few items of antiquity. Among those he singled out a small bag that jingled as he lifted it from the chest. "Coins?"
"Those coins were struck in Eregion ere its end. As one of the last attestations of a fallen kingdom, their value is beyond the metal used. I did all in my power to preserve these few from the needs of life and the ravages of time. I don't imagine too many proofs of our realm here can be found beyond the memories of those who still live, except perhaps in some hoard or deep in some vault where it's been buried and forgotten. Perhaps these are all that's left. I know you will spend these where they will purchase the most."
"I can't imagine I should find something matching their worth." Auros peered into the chest again and pulled out a key. "What's this for?"
A frown overtook Grandpa's features. His eyes bore the sadness and sorrow that comes with hard knowledge. "There is another chest kept in Imladris that bears answers to the questions you leave to Farothel to pose, questions you are as reluctant to ask yourself as I have been to answer. I've cast a shadow upon the time before your sires came to Eregion. While you don't need those answers, one day you may want them, and I won't deny them to you. There is history within, the history of our house. Some you may not find to your liking, but such is the peril one faces who wishes for the truth.
"I am sailing West soon. I bequeath this knowledge to you, to be left alone or to be opened and shared with Farothel if and as you see fit, but only after I have gone. That is my one condition."
Auros bowed his head, unable to find anything to say. The history that Grandpa would not speak of was now given to him. To make this knowledge his, or to leave it buried in the past: Grandpa's admonition gave such a decision greater weight.
"When I am gone, my dwelling in Imladris will be yours, and all that remains. You may find some things of interest among the papers and effects, but that's for you to discover yourself. Such claim as I still have in Eregion, I bequeath to both you and Farothel, to live or to leave as you see fit; but this is not the completion of your inheritance. There's one more thing I have for you."
Grandpa took his sword's scabbard from his baldric. The bare blade as he drew it forth cast the lantern light across the room, the shadows dancing in retreat as the flame's flicker claimed the walls. After a light tap on Auros' shoulder, the blade was hidden again and the shadows reclaimed their territory. "Rise." Auros stood once again and Grandpa embraced him. "I've left your inheritance for last because I have something for you that I cannot also give Farothel. I have but one sword to give, and it goes to you. This is Angran. It's been by my side since I was old enough to wield a blade. It will serve you well, as it has served me."
He took Auros' sword from his baldric and replaced it with Angran. "It's now yours. Bear it well. Bear it with honor. My grandfather's father cast his sword into the Sea after the War of Wrath. He deemed that after all he'd done, that sword should never be drawn by another hand. Your sire who commissioned this blade vowed he would never call it from its scabbard except in defense of another. I won't hold you to such a vow, so protect yourself too! But understand, my boy, that there are some things you cannot change. Some paths are set long ere we have a chance to prevent them.
"If you find yourself in Eregion, you know where you can find refuge. Your and Farothel's fathers aided me in their youth until their hearts called them elsewhere. I held them blameless. Neither will I hold you by any bond greater than your own will. This was our dream, mine and your grandmother's. It doesn't have to be yours, but know that you will always be welcome in this land."
Other words, other instructions he gave Auros in that small room at the far end of the tunnel before they returned to the surface. As Auros and Grandpa emerged from the cellar, Farothel's eyes fell on Angran now at his cousin's side. He grinned wide and saluted. Grandpa had but one sword to give; but to Farothel was given a brooch that he now wore, like to the device on Angran's scabbard and blazoned on his shield: seven diamonds for seven stars, set against a holly leaf molded of silver.
Four days they stayed at Grandpa's house, until the flowers in his garden had gone to seed. The morning they left, he gathered some of those seeds into an envelope and tucked it into his breast pocket.
"Now that you both are properly inducted, there is one more pilgrimage we must make."
Eastwards their journey drew them. There was no meandering, no seemingly aimless trudge through the wild. Their path was as direct as the terrain allowed, and it led them to the ruined gates of Ost-in-Edhil.
Through the ravaged ramparts and into the crumbled streets they passed. Auros had feared in his youth, first hearing the tales of Sauron's coming, that the Dark Lord's influence would be a palpable stain, like blood or slime, that would never be washed from the stones. That the city suffered no such fate came as a relief, though he struggled to find comfort in it. He'd envisioned the city at its zenith to be of such grandeur, beauty, and light as to be the envy of Eriador and all lands beyond, rivaling even the tales of Gondolin. The reality of its nadir stood in stark contrast to a child's imagination. Grass and turf subsumed the once tall crowns of fallen edifices. Pavestones and walls were no barrier for the bushes and small trees that laid claim to any gap where sunlight fell, whether that was the middle of a street or a home rent open and exposed to the elements. He would've stopped to clear them if Grandpa hadn't hastened his pace.
"We aren't here to take the city back from a millennium of overgrowth."
There were few points Auros wanted to argue with his grandfather on, but this was one. Still, he held his tongue. Grandpa brought them for a purpose, and he would follow.
Onward Grandpa led them, through the wrack and into the heart of the city, where at last they stood upon the threshold of the old gardens. The heartiest regrowth had prospered wild and untamed in the absence of its caretakers, surviving flora from the city's destruction. Through the arch he brought them in silence, until he halted before a large ring of stones buried beneath the flowers it once held in check. Grandpa knelt and placed his sword across his knees, his eyes closed in contemplation. He wanted this moment to himself. Farothel perched on the remains of a wall that had not yet given up its charge, while Auros examined one of the nearby pillars. No sound did either utter in the long space until Grandpa once again rose to his feet, wrapped his arms around their shoulders and pulled them close. It seemed afterward he walked rather in a memory of joy than in the waking world, or at least that he had a foot in each.
"Your grandmother and I plighted our troth on this very spot. We took some seeds from the flowers in this garden to plant in our own. Before she sailed West, I promised to take some of those seeds from our garden to grow here again. She wanted to see a day where her flowers would bloom in this ring where we bound our fates. Your grandmother made my dream hers, and so I have made her dream mine. Together, we brought into being many of our dreams and saw the good fruit borne of them, you two not the least. When I go to be with her, I will bring with me the fulfillment of this last."
Into the ring he stepped, and amongst the flowers found a patch where none grew. Kneeling again, he pulled back the dirt and grass with his bare hands. It surprised Auros the soil was still soft enough to do so. Grandpa drew from his breast pocket the envelope. He pressed it between his hands and breathed into it, then poured its contents into the hole and drew the soil over it. "I've kept my promise, vessenya, melinya. I'll be with you again soon."
They spent many nights in and around the ruins as Grandpa taught them more of the city, its history and its ways. The seeds grew, and when at last the flowers opened their petals, Grandpa plucked a single bloom to preserve it. As Auros stood at the gates again, now for their departure, he vowed he would return.
Grandpa's house made for a comfortable respite, when at last they'd returned after so many weeks in the open. One night after the evening meal, the fire still burned high on the hearth. Grandpa had one more lesson to impart as they sat together in the light and warmth.
"Farothel, do you remember when you were a young child, you asked me if I was a lord before Eregion fell?"
"Aye. You seemed so tall and commanding, and everyone answered to you."
"And what did I tell you?"
A grin formed on Farothel's lips. "I believe your exact words were: 'I was much too young to be anything but a boy.'"
Grandpa grinned back and pulled Farothel close. "After that."
"Well, you drew a square. You made me stand in it and said, 'You're now a lord. This is your land. Protect it.' Then you pulled me up off that square before I could so much as blink and planted me on my backside a good three feet away."
"And what did I tell you was the point of that?"
"You reminded us of what Maedhros son of Fëanor said: 'A king is he that can hold his own, or else his title is in vain.'"
"I wanted you to understand that if you're expecting some ancient title to grant you that which you won't spend your own blood and sweat to obtain, you will meet with nothing but disappointment. I admonish you this last time: you are given as a gift your own Being only. You are from an old, proud, and honorable house of the Noldor. Be content in that. Work hard. Earn your heart's desire. Be not eager for battle, but do not fear it. Stand with those you love. Stand with those who love you. Stand guard over those who cannot guard themselves. Earn trust. Earn loyalty. Be not quick to grant them, neither be afraid to mete them out to those who have earned them from you; but serve no one, be they lord, prince, or king, who does not aspire to the noblest virtues.
"I am the oldest of our house still east of the Sea. When I was a boy, Sauron razed this land and drove us out. My father and my brothers fell holding back the invading forces so we who could not fight might escape. They stood tall and proud, undaunted by the tide of destruction that washed over their lands. They fought not for glory or riches but for the safety of the people and land they loved, for those who'd put their faith in them. If I can bequeath to you any legacy, let it be that one.
"And now, my grandsons, I have imparted to you all the wisdom I can. You must determine how best to use it."
Perhaps that was all the wisdom Grandpa could put to words, but there was still much he could teach them, much they would have a chance to learn as the fire burned low into the night, as they continued their sojourn many more days in Eregion, and more still before Grandpa sailed West.