With Hope and Without Hope

Chapter 62: To Each His Path

"Walking trees?"

"Sounds a bit like Old Man Willow, if he remembered he could walk."

"Imagine such a cranky old fellow walking about."

"I would rather not."

"I would not describe Treebeard as ill-natured in the least. It is a pity you could not have met him. I am certain you would have enjoyed each others' company."

Seated atop the steps to Meduseld, Gandalf mulled over all Legolas had shared with the hobbits as they digested their second breakfast, which was provided after a few well-placed hints. The following meal had turned into a veritable feast. Once more in their element, the hobbits had held court, regaling all present with their tales.

Now sitting with Legolas, newly released from the infirmary, the hobbits had attempted to draw out every detail of the elf's time in Orthanc and in Fangorn, though he had not been forthcoming enough for their tastes. Gandalf found even he knew little of the elf's tale. The hobbits were no match for Legolas's cleverness and stubbornness, however, and had learned only what he had cared to share.

Except on the subject of Ents, on which he had endeavored to answer all of the hobbits' questions patiently and fully. Gandalf had almost admonished Pippin for his rigorous inquiry, but saw that the hobbits had done much to bring Legolas out of his reticence.

Some deeper wounds had yet to heal, however. Gandalf was grieved by the lack of conversation between Legolas and Gimli. Since freeing Gimli of his cuffs and joining the others on the terrace, dwarf had sat beside wizard on the steps, silently observing the sunny plains of Rohan and the approaching dark from the East, while the elf had paid him no heed.

The rift made the hobbits nervous, but they were likely at a loss as to what to do, and simply ignored it. Gandalf still had faith the two would approach each other before long. He would leave this to the two of them—for the moment. The loss of their friendship would be a severe blow to the entire Fellowship, fragile as it now was.

The doors to the Great Hall opened and released Aragorn out onto the terrace, looking a bit less weary, if not less hungry. The Ranger had opted for sleep rather than a second meal.

At the top of the broad steps, Aragorn stared out into the distance. What he saw he did not share, but the morning surely weighed on his mind. Gandalf wondered whether the last weeks weighed heavier.

"Strider!" Pippin rose to greet the man.

"Strider, you missed a wonderful meal. Aren't you hungry?"

"You really ought to eat," Pippin said, ever the man's caretaker.

"I found I was more weary than hungry. It was good to sleep and not dream."

"I am told you have much to consider regarding your coming days," Legolas said, rising to join them. "Have you made your decision? Or did you leave that to your dreams?"

Aragorn grew quiet and looked out to the plains once more. "I have made my decision."

Gandalf was not surprised. Aragorn was not one to take long to choose his course. That he had not announced his judgment upon hearing Elrond's message might have been another measure of the man's weariness. When Gandalf sought Aragorn's eye, however, he saw more than fatigue. He found doubt, something he had not seen in the man in many years. If Aragorn harbored doubts over his choice, why proclaim it made?

"You take the Paths of the Dead, do you not?" Gimli said, speaking for the first time, resignation lacing his words. Once Aragorn made his decision he would not be swayed.