The Heirs of Haeron

After the Fall of Barad-dûr

It has been told elsewhere how at the end of the Third Age the periannath named Frodo cast the One Ring into the pits of Mount Orodruin, and in so doing destroyed the great fortress of Barad-dûr and the power that dwelt within. The downfall of the Dark Lord dissolved the spells that bound his thralls to his will and weakened the resolve of the rest of his vassals, and soon led to a complete victory for the armies of the West.

With the threat from Mordor extinguished, many of the soldiers of Minas Tirith were given leave to return home to see their friends and relatives or take care of long-neglected personal affairs. Aldanur was himself preparing to return to Calembel when a messenger came to the barracks and told him that he had been summoned to the headquarters of the City Guard. Upon arriving at the gate of the command center, the Northerner was approached by a tall man whom he did not recognise. "It is good to see that you made it to the end of the war in one piece," said the stranger.

The man's friendly tone confused and intrigued Aldanur, for he was certain that this individual, who was clothed in fine garbs, was not one with whom he had had a close relationship in the the past. After a moment a slight smile appeared on the stranger's lips. "Is my life of such little worth," he said, "that you should so soon forget saving it?"

Aldanur again examined the other man's face closely as he searched his memory for clues. At length he began to nod his head slowly, for he now realised who the man was who stood before him. "An appalling lapse on my part, this was," he said. "Forgive me, sir, for failing to recognise the knight by whose side I faced countless foes in battle."

The man introduced himself as Thannor of the Swan Knights of Dol Amroth and offered Aldanur his thanks for his actions during the battle for the White City. The two men then sat down on a bench in the front square among the many blooming trees and recounted to one another all they had done and seen on the battlefield after they had parted company. At length Sir Thannor stood up and told the Northerner that it was now time for him to take his leave, then he paused for a second and his face took on a more serious expression. "You came to my aid at a crucial time," he said, "and I can never hope to repay this debt, but I shall try to compensate you nonetheless. Please come back with me to Dol Amroth and be the head of my guard."

Aldanur's first impulse was to turn down what he regarded as an undeserved offer, but something held him back. In his heart he had the strange feeling that this was a course which he was somehow meant to follow, and with naught tying him back to Calembel since the passing of his mother save a small plot of land, he decided to accept Sir Thannor's offer.

"Good," said the knight. "Prince Imrahil has asked us to remain in Minas Tirith for a while longer. After that, the Swan company will set off for Dol Amroth and you shall come with us."

Nigh on three months after Sir Thannor and Aldanur's meeting at the headquarters of the City Guard, on Midsummer's eve, the knight came to the Northerner's quarters. "Tomorrow is the King's wedding," he said, "and I want to you to come with me to the Great Hall."

"I appreciate the invitation, sir," replied Aldanur, "but I do not think that such an event is a place for a common soldier."

"No, no," said the knight. "You brought this upon yourself when you pledged your services to me, for as head of my guard, it is your duty to escort your master."

The Northerner's expression was dubious. "Surely," he said, "you do not think that it is necessary___"

"Come, come now," interrupted Thannor as he put his hand on other man's shoulder. "It will be a unique experience, and all you need to do is sit and watch."

On the morrow, the union of King of the Faithful and the daughter of Lord Elrond took place in Minas Tirith. Following the saying of the vows and the proclamation of the marriage, the parties attending the wedding moved into the Great Hall and took their appointed seats. At the main table on the dais, along with the King and his bride, Aldanur saw a dark-haired elf to whom was accorded much honour and whom he presumed to be the Lord Elrond of Imladris. Seated next to them were a few more elves, followed by Mithrandir, a dwarf and four halflings, whose seats had no doubt been propped up for them. In the table to the left he saw yet more elves, and among them, one of great majesty in whom the light of Aman shone brighter than in any other save the Lady of the Golden Wood. And Aldanur's heart was glad to look again upon the face of that mythical hero of so many legendary tales, that great elf who had once come to him with words of hope during the darkest days of his childhood years.

During the banquet Aldanur hardly said a word as he felt woefully out of place among the noblemen and the foreign dignitaries, who seemed to speak only of courtly politics or the size of their estates. After the last of the speakers had finished, the Northerner stood up and headed towards the balcony to seek a bit of quiet; but as he reached the doorway, he heard a knock behind him and turned around at once. Much to his surprise, just a few paces away, he found the grizzled figure of the White Wizard looking back at him. "A strange place for a mere soldier, the King's wedding, is it not?" said Mithrandir. Then he moved closer to the Northerner and added quietly, "But then, an ordinary soldier you are not."

"I know not of what you speak, sir," said Aldanur.

"Do not take me for a fool," said Mithrandir raising his voice. "I am Gandalf the White, and I can see much farther than even the greatest amongst your race . There are many brave men in Húrin's service, but none such as you, for any of the Wise can see that in your veins flows the blood of Westernesse."

"Wise you are indeed, wizard," replied Aldanur, "but for all your knowledge you have not understanding of the souls of men. For you claim that the traits passed on to me by my forefathers set me aside from the ordinary, yet I ask, what attribute could be deemed beyond ordinary that provides not wealth or bestows not honour upon its bearer?"

Mithrandir let out a tired sigh and then said in a lower voice, "There are things more important than wealth and honour in Manwë's realm, but on this I do not expect we shall agree."

Aldanur, however, was reluctant to accept the claim even as a matter of opinion. "That may be so in the Undying Lands, where cares are few," he replied, "but here in Middle-earth naught is there more important."

But Mithrandir gave no heed to the man's last remark, for something else occupied his mind. "Your lineage is a puzzle to me," he said as he looked keenly into Aldanur's eyes, "but that is not the only mystery about you, is it?"

The Northerner was stunned and unsettled by that statement, but he quickly regained his poise and remained silent.

The wizard continued to examine the man for a short while, as if searching for clues in his eyes. At length he said, "I am not allowed to interfere in the affairs of Men any longer, and know not what secret you carry; but my sight has been greatly enhanced since the passing of the Shadow, and I can see in you a link to something long forgotten."

Aldanur's demeanor remained stony.

Mithrandir then leant on his staff and gazed for a while pensively at the man before him. "Twisted indeed are the ways of fate," he said after a moment, "that great gifts should pass to those who seek their riches elsewhere or that the dearest treasures should fall to the care of most unlikely keepers. Many are the mysteries about you, son of the North, and I do not claim to know what your purpose is in this world, for Eru alone can see all the cadences of the Great Music; but I suspect that your part in the tale of the Faithful is not yet ended. Farewell, Dúnadan."

Greatly troubled was Aldanur by the words of Mithrandir, for he knew that the wizard had peered too deep into his heart and got a glimpse of something that none ever should see save his heir. He felt suddenly that with all those wise individuals and lore-masters in that hall, his family's long-held secret was not safe, and a burning desire arose then in him to flee that place. But the Northerner mastered that impulse, and after a moment stepped out to the balcony and took a seat on a large window ledge to await there the end of the royal event.

As the son of the ranger sat with his face to the south, with the bright full moon as his sole companion, he heard two men walk out of the Great Hall and move to within a few paces of him. From their position the men could see not Aldanur, and thinking themselves alone, went on with their conversation.

"Have you informed the King of this?" said one of them.

"I have not, Lord Faramir," replied the other. "It does not seem like the appropriate time."

"No, indeed," said Faramir. "But you are certain it is the same man -- that mysterious black figure who slew the King's kinsman?"

"It is my belief that it is the same individual," said the other man. "but of his race, I dare not speak."

"This is most disturbing," said the prince. "I shall speak of this to the King following the festivities. Thank you for bringing this matter to my attention, Lord Filegaer."

Aldanur knew at once to whom the two men were referring, and wondered what matter concerning the shadowy black figure could be of such import as to require the attention of the King.