Aragorn, being now the Heir of Isildur, was taken with his mother to dwell in the house of Elrond; and Elrond took the place of his father and came to love him as a son of his own.
Appendix V, The Return of the King
Elrond knocked gently on the door of Aragorn’s room, through which he could hear the bright voices of hobbits. When no one answered, he opened the door to a strange sight. Aragorn was standing next to his bed talking with Pippin, who was standing on Merry’s shoulders and wavering back and forth in an effort to keep his balance. Bilbo sat in one of the chairs, chuckling softly, holding a cup of tea. Mostly empty trays, platters, and bowls lay crowded on every chest and table.
“Master Elrond!” Pippin cried out happily. Startled, Merry turned toward the door and, with a squawk, Pippin flailed his arms wildly in an effort to keep from falling. Aragorn swept up Pippin in his arms and set him down on his feet, laughing along with the young hobbit.
Elrond closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the sound. Would he ever again hear his foster son’s laughter?
“Am I interrupting something of importance?” he asked.
“My friends felt that I needed entertainment during my confinement,” Aragorn said, smiling down at Merry and Pippin.
“And good meals,” Bilbo said firmly. “If appetite is any measure of health, and it is, I declare that you are back to full health.”
Aragorn smiled fondly at Bilbo, and rested a hand on the old hobbit’s shoulder. “Thank you, Bilbo.” He looked at Elrond hopefully. “I hope all of my healers agree?”
“That is what I am here to determine,” Elrond said. He addressed the hobbits gravely. “My friends, thank you for keeping Aragorn company. Would you leave us so that I may examine him?” The hobbits nodded, and began to gather up the remains of breakfast. “By the way, what was it I interrupted here?”
“Pippin wanted to speak with ‘a mountainous, looming hulk of a man’ without craning his neck, or having me kneel before him,” Aragorn explained.
“I never said he was mountainous,” Pippin protested as Merry and Bilbo hustled him away. “Merry, you should try it. Strider had to look up at me, you saw him! It was delightful. Do you think second breakfast is being served yet? There are lovely orchards here, aren’t there? Later on, we can...”
“You are dear to them,” Elrond said to Aragorn as the voices faded. “Would you remove your tunic, please, and lie down?”
Aragorn pulled his tunic over his head, and lay back on the bed. Elrond sat beside him, and pulled a cunning ear trumpet from a pocket of his robe. He pressed it gently against Aragorn’s chest, and listened to the Ranger’s heartbeat.
“Breathe deeply. Again. Very good. Now sit up, please. Follow my finger with your eyes, back and forth.” Elrond tested Aragorn’s reflexes, then peered deeply into the clear, grey eyes so like his own. He neither saw nor sensed anything amiss... to his relief, there was no hint of the dark presence lurking within his foster son’s mind and body. He wasn’t certain he could bear to sense the Enemy lurking within one whom he loved so dearly. And yet… it was disconcerting to realize that there was something within Aragorn, seeing through his eyes, watching every move he made with the rapacious greed of a dragon coveting gems and gold. He kept his face a blank mask.
“I vow to you that I am well,” Aragorn insisted. “Whatever fit took me yesterday, it is long gone. I am eager to join one of the patrols searching for signs of the Nine or their spies.”
“I know that,” Elrond said softly. “I ask only one thing first. I will prepare a tonic that I wish you to take.”
“I don’t need any--”
“My son,” Elrond said firmly, “what happened to you yesterday was quite severe, and very worrisome. I believe you when you say that you feel no ill effects; even so, I wish to ensure that your heart is strengthened.”
“One tonic?” Aragorn asked warily.
“Just one.”
“All right,” Aragorn capitulated. He put his tunic back on. “If that is the price for me to be released from confinement...”
“It is,” Elrond said. “I will return soon.”
“I will be here,” Aragorn sighed. He was reaching for the teapot when Elrond left the room.
That so-called Elf-lord suspects nothing, the entity exulted. Soon my host will be free to roam about again, and I will be able to continue gathering information for the Master. It withdrew its attention deeply into itself, savoring all it had learned in just the past few days.
Elrond went directly to the healing rooms, where Glorfindel, Gandalf, Frodo, and Arwen were waiting.
“The time is now,” Elrond said, striding to the cabinet that contained bottles and packets of crushed and powdered herbs.
“What will you give him?” asked Arwen. She was very pale, and looked worried.
“I told Aragorn I wished him to take a heart-strengthening medicine,” Elrond said, swiftly but carefully measuring ingredients in a bowl. “I spoke the truth to him; there will indeed be a small amount of that in the potion.”
Arwen watched everything he was doing very carefully. “Isn’t that too much?” she asked, frowning at the strength of the ingredients he was combining.
“No,” Elrond assured her, adding water to the bowl and stirring its contents. “I only hope it is strong enough for our needs. A sedative powerful enough to work as swiftly as we hope on such a strong man, yet not endanger him, is a delicate balance.” He regarded the mixture for a moment, nodded, then added a few drops of mint oil.
Glorfindel turned to Gandalf. “Are you prepared?”
“I am,” Gandalf said. Frodo looked up at him, wondering what was going to happen. “Does everyone understand what to do, and when?”
“Yes,” Frodo, Elrond, and Glorfindel chorused.
“And I?” Arwen whispered.
Elrond went to Arwen and took her in his arms. “I know how difficult this will be for you, my daughter. You may stand with Glorfindel and me until we are summoned, but you may not attempt to contact Aragorn’s mind, or interfere with anything Gandalf or the rest of us are doing... no matter what you hear, or sense.”
“I will try,” Arwen said. She took a deep breath, and tried to smile.
Elrond kissed her brow, then returned to the bowl. He poured its contents, through a funnel, into a small vial, then stoppered it.
“Gandalf...” Frodo said, “what if... it doesn’t work?”
“I believe my plan is sound,” Gandalf said. “As your body was freed of the enspelled blade fragment, so Aragorn’s mind will be freed of the enspelled hilt consciousness.”
“But...”
“Frodo,” Gandalf said gently, “if I should fail, the Quest must go on. You and your companions will leave Rivendell, and travel south in hopes of reaching Mount Doom unhindered. Aragorn... will remain here.”
Frodo’s eyes filled with tears. “As a prisoner?”
Arwen turned away, and bowed her head in grief.
“For now, we will focus only on the task at hand,” Gandalf said briskly, giving Frodo’s shoulder a comforting pat. He got to his feet, and nodded at Elrond and Glorfindel. “Let us proceed.”
~*~
Aragorn was standing at the window when Elrond returned, closing the door behind him. Elrond motioned for him to sit on the bed once again, and placed a vial in his hand.
“Drink up,” Elrond said lightly. “I am certain the hobbits are eager to see you up and about once again.”
“As am I,” Aragorn said heartily. “I am not meant for long hours of leisure, or lying abed when there is so much to be done.” He opened the vial and sniffed it, smiling when he smelled the spearmint oil that he, also, would use as a healer to mask a bitter taste. He put the small bottle to his lips and quickly swallowed its contents.
“Thank you, Ada. I know you have been worried.” Aragorn handed the vial back to Elrond. “Now, if you will excuse me while I continue to dress...”
“Of course,” Elrond said. Aragorn stood up and took a step, swayed slightly, then staggered as his vision blurred and the room spun. Before he had time to wonder what was happening, he fell into a soft, white light that abruptly went black.
Elrond caught Aragorn as he collapsed, and carried him back to the bed. As he laid him down, Aragorn sighed and went completely limp. Elrond waited, heart pounding, fearing that the entity might lash out and caused Aragorn harm. The seconds went by, then a full minute, and nothing happened. As Aragorn’s heart continued to beat strongly, his breathing slow and deep, Elrond bowed his head in relief. The potion had worked exactly as he had hoped, and the entity had been taken by surprise. If Gandalf's guess was correct, it was now adrift inside a mind and body drugged and helpless, only partially aware... and susceptible to the wizard’s planned deception.
Elrond touched a finger to Aragorn’s throat, comforted by the strong pulse, and whispered a blessing in Elvish. Then he got to his feet and stepped out into the corridor, where Glorfindel, Arwen, Gandalf, and Frodo were waiting. At Elrond's nod, Gandalf took Frodo's hand and together they entered the room. Gandalf closed the door.
The others could only wait, and hope.
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