Rising slowly, Aldamir tried to stand, and found that though his ankle still jabbed sharply with pain, it could bear him a little ways. As he sat up, he felt a dull aching pain in his wounded shoulder, and his side still ached slightly, reminiscent of the deep, painful knife wound he had received in Helm�s Deep. But it was improving. He reached for his water-flask and drank deeply of its contents. Pushing aside the tent flap, he limped into the young sunlight and looked around him.
The camp was still quiet, but for some few moving about; most were still resting from wounds sustained during yesterday�s battle, or simply because they were tired from the long journey to Gondor. Out on the Pelennor field, many men and women of the city were taking away the dead and burning the carcasses of the orcs at the far end of the field.
Lindir found him there a few minutes later. At his step Aldamir turned. �M�ra c�l�, Lindir!� he greeted him. �Where have you been?�
�Good to see you up!� responded Lindir. �I have been speaking with Elladan, but he is in council now with Aragorn, Gandalf, �omer, and the Lord Imrahil.�
�What of the Steward of the city, Boromir�s father?� asked Aldamir, turning back to gaze across the Pelennor, bathed in the morning light. �Is he not also speaking with them?�
A shadow crossed Lindir�s face. �He is dead.�
Aldamir wheeled on him. �Dead? Was he slain in battle?�
Lindir shook his head. �He burned himself on a pyre, and nearly burned his son Faramir as well. Gandalf saved him,� he added at Aldamir�s stricken look. �He had a palant�r; it seems he has been gazing into it for many months and mind was ensnared and darkened by Sauron. He thought there was no hope left; he slew himself in the fire yesterday, before we came.�
Aldamir felt a deep revulsion. �To burn oneself!� he said. �Truly the ways of men are strange. I have heard that sometimes they burn their dead, but I did not know they could become so full of despair to burn their own body, alive.� He shivered.
�It is terrible,� agreed Lindir quietly. �We can only be grateful that Gandalf could save Faramir in time. He lies now in the House of Healing; Aragorn has tended to him.�
�And what of this council?� questioned Aldamir.
�They are debating on what course of action to take next,� replied Lindir. �All we can do now is to wait......�
Aldamir and Lindir did not hear the results of the debate until later that day. Aldamir spent most of his time in or near the tent, kept there by his wounded ankle. Lindir went into the city briefly, but returned after a short while. Aldamir was curious about Minas Tirith; he wanted to walk in the streets and look upon the stone city Boromir had spoken so eagerly of while staying in L�rien, but his ankle prevented him.
It drew towards evening, and still Aragorn was in council.
Lindir went outside the tent to clean the arrows he and Aldamir had gleaned from the battlefield earlier that day. Aldamir himself remained the tent, resting and binding the linen about his ankle tighter. Behind the tent Mornil� and Fear�n stood peacefully, dozing; Fear�n had been found wandering upon the battlefield, restless and irritated by the pain in his flank. Now the wound had been treated, and he had calmed down.
Aldamir tied the linen, leaned back, and closed his eyes with a sigh. He was still weary and worn from the battle of yesterday; his ankle had hurt constantly throughout the day and his wounded shoulder made it difficult to lift or move his arm without pain or the risk of opening the wound. The deep sleep he had put himself in during the night had helped slightly, but his body was worn from the stress he had put it through. He needed rest, he needed to sleep...
After a few moments he got up and limped to the tent�s entrance, the pain in his ankle keeping him from rest. He stepped quietly outside, expecting to find Lindir cleaning the arrows -- and stopped.
Lindir was sitting cross-legged on the ground, gazing at something in his hand. He was very still and silent. Aldamir sensed that Lindir wished to be alone, and was about to draw back when Lindir looked up and saw him.
�No, it�s all right,� he said, reading Aldamir�s thoughts. �Come out here and sit down. I�ll tell you.�
Aldamir was mystified. �Tell me what?� he asked as he sat down next to Lindir.
�About this.� Lindir extended his hand. In it lay a single, slender string, worn and old, yet beautiful, interwoven with a strand of light hair.
�A harp-string!� exclaimed Aldamir. �But why....?�
Lindir smiled quietly, and then sighed. �It�s a long story,� he said, and stopped. He looked sad.
�Long ago, I was a harpist,� he said finally. �In Rivendell, during its golden days when there was no worry of Mordor. I loved music, and I loved my harp; I sat often among the trees of Rivendell or next to one of the waterfalls and wrote songs, testing them on my harp.
�I was good at it, too. Other Elves praised my playing highly, and I was happy. Then I met an Elf-maiden; she was a Mirkwood Elf visiting Rivendell with some of her kin. Her name was Linw�. We met in the Hall of Fire, one evening when the fires were lit and songs were being sung. We began to talk together after she - rather shyly, I must admit - complimented me on my playing. I thanked her, and she expressed a wish to learn to play the harp. I offered to teach her.�
Lindir smiled softly. �We spent many hours together, talking much, and we found that we shared many interests. She had wanted to learn the harp for a long time, and she learned well. I began making a harp for her -- in secret: it was to be a surprise. But then, several months after we met, her kin were returning to Mirkwood and she, of course, was to go with them. Neither of us wished to part, but loth as we were to say farewell, we had to. She went back to Mirkwood, and I was left in Rivendell.
�After she left, I realized that I loved her. I spent some weeks debating over it, but finally I decided I had to see her again. I rode to Mirkwood, and there we met again, under the eaves of her forest. She was overjoyed to see me again, and I found that what I had hoped for was true: she returned my love.
�I spent several months there in Mirkwood. Her family were very gracious and welcomed me as a guest. We were hardly apart, and finally I asked her to marry me. She accepted, and we decided that we would settle in Imladris. With some of her kin, we set out for Rivendell to marry there.�
Lindir sighed. �Those days, riding to Rivendell, were some of our last together. One day�s ride from Rivendell, high in the Misty Mountains, we were waylaid and attacked by a pack of orcs. None knew where they came from, and none know where they went afterwards. But there were many of them and we were hard put to stave them off. I went down partway through the battle; I can�t remember anything of what happened after that, until I woke up days later in Rivendell. Those who had tended to me told me that I had been seriously wounded and had wandered in and out of a dangerous fever for days.
�My first thought was for Linw�, but she was gone, to my great grief. None could tell me what had become of her. She and two of her kin had disappeared during the battle; it could only be supposed that they had been carried away and later slain by the orcs.�
Lindir sighed and ran the harp-string through his fingers; Aldamir was silent, stunned.
�Since that loss, I have not had the heart to play the harp again,� finished Lindir softly.
Aldamir was at a loss for words. �Lindir....I never knew....I�m sorry...�
Lindir shook his head. �Don�t, Aldamir, it�s not your fault. I thought I would die of grief at first, but I have overcome the pain and I have banished it from her memory. She was my beloved, and always will be so. I remember her now only with love, not pain.� He smiled softly.
Aldamir opened his mouth to speak, and closed it again. Instead, he gripped Lindir�s shoulder comfortingly.
Later that evening, as the sun was sinking behind the great mountains, Legolas found Aldamir and Lindir sitting outside their tent, cleaning the arrows. They looked up as he came toward them.
�Mae govannen, mellon!� Aldamir greeted him. �What news from the council?�
Legolas smiled a greeting, but he looked serious. �Greetings, mellyn. Yes, the council is ended.�
He paused, and Aldamir leaned forward. �What was their decision?�
�We are riding to the Morannon. We have come to the decision that we do not have a great chance of defeating Mordor; Sauron�s strength will only grow. But we will place our hope in Frodo, and distract Sauron to give him a chance. If Sauron thinks we have the Ring, and are riding now to defeat him with it, his mind will be drawn away from Frodo; it is our only chance to defeat him once and for all. But riding to battle with Mordor is no small thing.... it is likely that it will be our last ride, and that we will not survive to see victory if it comes......�