HAND OF IRON, HEART OF GOLD
By the Carefree Quill
Summary: Godwin's rise to the throne of Rhûn and his adventures along the way. Takes place several years after The Elves of Summer.
Disclaimer: The setting and some of the characters are of course Tolkien's. There is absolutely no infringement intended here, only entertainment. I try to stay true to Tolkien's universe and characters as much as possible. I have created numerous characters for these stories as well including Godwin, Grayson and whoever else appears as I go.
Notes: Sindarin is in italics. All elvish words and names have been researched and are accurate, to the best of my knowledge, to Tolkien's languages.
Test of Manhood
Grayson sat by the fire and poked at the log a bit with a stick. A pan sat in the coals with two filets of fish sizzling quietly, barely heard over the noises coming from across the camp. Grayson tried to ignore the metallic swish-swish sounds but they were grating on his nerves. He glanced across the camp to where his charge, Godwin, sat sharpening the blade of his dagger.
"I'm sure it's sharp enough," Grayson said with a hint of annoyance.
"A dull blade is useless," Godwin said with a smirk.
"Don't quote my words to me, boy. I am still your guardian, and I want some peace," Grayson said.
Godwin gave the Ranger a smile and sheathed his blade. He wordlessly stowed his sharpening stone back in his saddle bag and sat by the fire. It had been quiet these past few weeks on patrol in Arnor. Godwin and Grayson broke from the main group to investigate the disappearance of some livestock from some of the northernmost villages. So far, no sign of raiders was seen, and no wolves were in the area. They would return soon, and then Godwin would have to endure his final test. He would live in the wilderness alone for the winter. Already the chill of winter hung in the air like the icy breath of the north. Godwin had learned much these past years. He left Ithilien with Grayson at the age of twelve and now he was nearly nineteen. It was considered young for a Ranger, but his time was short. Even Halbarad admits to his skill and encouraged the early test, but Grayson wanted to take him on one last patrol.
"You know, I can do this," Godwin said. "I'm not a little boy anymore."
Grayson turned the filets over and looked across the fire at his friend. He'd grown tall over the past few years. His features were fair, even boyish, though his beard was finally filling out a little bit. His hair hung to his shoulders and curled in the mists of the north. He seemed thin, but he was solid and much stronger than you would guess. But his eyes, they told the story. This boy had discerning eyes. There was wisdom in him and respect. Truthfully, if Grayson was from the east, he would easily bow his knee to this would be King. Now that his duty as teacher was ending, he realized he would miss the boy. Though years separated them, they were close friends.
"I know you are ready," Grayson finally said. "Indeed, you have been ready for a long time. It was merely necessary for you to grow into yourself a bit. When you return to Fornost in the spring, you will be a man in the eyes of the Rangers of Arnor, but you have nothing more to prove to me."
Godwin smiled as he reached up and rubbed his chin. It was still a little strange having whiskers, but it made him feel older. Perhaps that was the sign Grayson spoke of.
"It's the beard," Godwin said with a chuckle.
Grayson laughed, but looked at him seriously. "No, it is you," Grayson paused and looked back to the fire as if embarrassed to look him in the eye. "I'm… proud of you boy."
Godwin felt a lump in his throat and suddenly thought of his father back in Ithilien. "Do you think Alcon would be proud?"
"Yes, he most assuredly would," Grayson said quietly as he handed Godwin a plate of fish. "Eat. We'll go back in the morning."
Back in Fornost, a week later, Grayson presented Godwin to the council of Rangers. Halbarad looked him over with scrutiny, as he always did. Godwin stood firm, not at all bothered by the intense stares of the council.
"So, you are ready to make the journey, to pass the test into manhood?" Halbarad asked.
"My mentor, Lord Grayson has given his approval. I will strive to be worthy of it," Godwin said.
Halbarad slowly smiled at the wise answer. "You have my approval as well, what say you all?" he asked the gathered assembly.
The room burst into a bunch of "Aye's."
Halbarad smiled. "Then serve the wine and bring the food. We cannot send the boy out on an empty stomach!"
The feast was served and there was laughter in the hall. Everyone ate and drank their fill, but Godwin was careful not to go heavy on the wine. He knew he'd be leaving before dawn. During the meal, he was greeted by various Rangers who all had their advice for him. One suggested he find a nice cave to hold up in until spring. Another said he should go south to milder a milder climate, perhaps by the coast. But one of the older Rangers took him aside and spoke to him privately.
"Boy, someday you will be King in your land, of that I am sure. I think you should venture to the far north and stay among the people there. You can learn skills there that are lost to the men of Middle Earth. The land is brutally harsh there especially on the Icebay where most of them dwell, and yet they thrive," the old Ranger said.
"Are they friendly?" Godwin asked.
"Most, yes. I have had few dealings with the Lossoth, but those I have met have been gracious. It is certainly more acceptable than going south to stay in Annúminas as Helgoth suggested," he added with a smirk.
Godwin chuckled at the thought. He would remain in the wilderness, not rest in the comforts of the King's newly restored city. "Thank you for your council. I may journey north, just to see what it is like."
"Take care when you pass through the gap of Anmar and beware of Carn Dûm. It is said that the ghosts of the black followers of the witch king still roam those mountains."
Godwin was not superstitious, but he would not insult the Ranger's beliefs. "I will be cautious."
The feast drew to a close, and Godwin gathered his saddlebag and headed for the door. Grayson beckoned him over so he met him at his table.
"Forget their advice and follow your heart," Grayson said. "Your journey is your own, not theirs."
"Thank you, Grayson. I will miss your company," Godwin said.
"No, you will miss my cooking," Grayson said with a smirk. "Go. I'll see you in the spring."
Godwin gave his mentor a bow and then left. Grayson watched until the door closed and then he sighed. Halbarad put a hand on his son's shoulder and interrupted his thoughts.
"You did well with him; I thought you might instruct another…" Halbarad started to say but Grayson stood abruptly and interrupted.
"No, father. I'm through with instruction," and then he left.
Halbarad shook his head and turned to Helgoth. "He misses him already."
"He'll be back," Helgoth said lightly.
"And when he returns, I fear I will lose my son. I followed my King, and I think Grayson might just follow this one."
Helgoth looked around the hall and sighed. "He may not be the only one. They all like the boy, and besides, he will need the help of men he can trust."
"True enough," Halbarad said with a sigh. Times were changing. Peace was uneasy in the east and the time for war was returning. He just hoped this young Godwin would be the leader they all hoped for.
Godwin wrapped his cloak a little tighter around himself as he rode through the thick drifts of snow that blanketed the ground. He followed the stars for the hours of sunlight were shortened greatly so far north. He'd passed through the gap of Angmar, but found no ghosts on the slopes beneath Carn Dûm. He chuckled again at the very thought, but the chill took the mirth quickly. His horse shuddered beneath him and he knew they needed to find shelter soon, but there was nothing in sight but miles of snow.
"How do these people live here?" he muttered to himself, and then realized he hadn't actually seen anyone yet. "Or perhaps they are but a myth, and I am on a fool's errand…"
He hunched his shoulders forward and grit his teeth as the wind blew down out of the north. It was a miserable land, and if he didn't find anyone soon, he may have to turn back. In the distance he heard the distinct howling of wolves and he cringed. The white wolves of the north were quite vicious. He would be vulnerable if attacked by a pack out in the open. He urged his horse on, following a northwesterly direction. If he was to find anyone in the barren land, it would be on the shores of the Icebay of Forochel, so that is where he headed.
Hours passed, and the cold he tried to ignore crept into his bones and he felt numb from head to toe. No chill he'd ever felt prepared him for this land. But even as he thought he would fall from his horse only to freeze in a snow drift, he saw a light coming toward him. There was a soft jingle of bells and the sound of dogs barking… and then everything went black.
There was the distinct sound of a heated argument, but the language was strange. A deep voice boomed, full of anger and authority. Godwin struggled to open his eyes, but he couldn't. Then everything was quiet and he drifted once again into a deep sleep. Then he heard a soft voice speaking and he was finally able to respond. He opened his eyes and was greeted by the broad toothless smile of an old woman. She laughed and started talking to him, but he didn't understand. He gave her a smile and a shrug and she just sighed.
"Zalaya, Zalaya!" the woman called over and over.
Godwin looked around the room and could see a fire going and furs blanketing the floors. The walls looked strange, and he couldn't make out what they were made of. Finally someone came in and he looked to see who was there.
"You speak westron?" a young woman asked.
"Yes, my lady," Godwin said quietly, a little awed by her beauty. Her skin was tanned and her hair was black as night, but her eyes…
"No need for your petty titles, ranger. What is your business so far north?" she asked.
"I am on my final journey before claiming my place among the rangers," he said. "I wanted to see what the land was like up here."
"It is deadly, and very nearly did it claim you as its next victim. It is fortunate that we found you when we did, or you would have fed the wolves," she said lightly as she took a seat by the fire.
"I am in your debt," Godwin said.
"You owe us nothing. It is our law to help travelers. When you have recovered a small party will see you safely to your borders," she said.
"But I came all this way to see your land and to learn from your people," Godwin said as he tried to sit up.
The old woman clucked at him and put her hands on his shoulders to push him back against the furs. Godwin was annoyed, but complied. He looked back at the young woman who regarded him with complete disdain.
"You are a fool, Ranger. Go home where you belong. There is nothing here of value," she said bitterly as she rose to leave. "I will bring food."
"Wait, what is your name?" Godwin asked.
She turned and looked at him and he final realized what color her eyes were, blue-green. She tossed her long hair over her shoulder and glared at him but finally answered.
"Zalaya," she said flatly and then left.
Godwin was intrigued, but he was tired. The cold had drained his strength and it wasn't long before he dozed again. He woke to an abrupt shaking of his shoulder.
"Wake, Ranger! You need to eat," Zalaya said.
Godwin looked up and saw Zalaya seated beside his bed with a bowl of some sort of stew. They were alone, and he gave her a smile. Zalaya just stuck a spoon in his mouth. Godwin nearly choked, not having been ready for the bite. He managed to swallow and yanked the spoon away.
"I am quite able to feed myself," he said in annoyance.
Zalaya cocked a brow at him, "That remains to be seen. I have never met a ranger who couldn't handle the cold. Perhaps you should have gone south."
"How many rangers have you met?" Godwin asked.
Zalaya quickly responded, "Several."
"Name one," Godwin said firmly.
She paused, and Godwin thought he had her caught in a lie, but finally she said, "Names were never given."
Godwin smirked, "Indeed? Well, I will give you mine, so you can answer such a question next time. I am Godwin."
Zalaya frowned, "That is not a westron name."
"No, it is not. I am easterling by birth," Godwin admitted.
Zalaya leaned away from him and wrinkled her nose, "And the Rangers trained you? Do they know?"
"Yes," he sighed, "They know."
Zalaya seemed to ponder that a moment and then finally shrugged. She helped him sit up and then handed him the bowl of stew. "If it doesn't bother them, then it doesn't bother me. Eat and then rest." And with that, she left.
Godwin ate the stew and studied the room. He saw his saddle and saddle bags in the corner. There were also various tools and weapons unlike any he'd seen before. There were spears, but short ones with ropes tied to them. He wondered what they were for. He saw whips, and hook like blades on long wood handles, and assorted knives. There were bows and arrows and something that resembled a mowing sickle, but in the north, he doubted it was used to mow the grass. He finished his stew, climbed out of bed and halted. He realized he was completely naked. His eyes doubled in size and he yanked the furs back over himself quickly as Zalaya returned. She saw his blush and cocked a brow at him.
"Why am I…? Where are my clothes?" he asked with a crack in his voice.
"They are being dried. It is better to sleep in just the furs, it's warmer. You'll have to learn how to live in this climate if you are going to survive out here," she informed him.
"I thought you couldn't wait to be rid of me," Godwin said seriously.
"Well, it appears you have made and impression on the old ones. They want to take you back to the bay to meet Tragarz. You'll be leaving on the morrow," she said.
"Will you not be coming?" Godwin asked.
She paused and looked over her shoulder before answering. "I do not think so."
"I am sorry to hear that, Zalaya," Godwin said softly.
Zalaya looked into his deep brown eyes and her knees suddenly felt weak, but she quickly recovered. She could not afford to lose her heart to a stranger, especially a man from the east.
"Get over it," she said coldly and left.
Godwin watched her until she was gone and furrowed his brow. What was going on here? What did they want him for? And why wasn't she coming with them? So far, she was the only one he could speak to. And, he liked her. Beauty aside, he found her very interesting.
Zalaya stepped out into the cold wind and tried to catch her breath. He wasn't like anyone she'd known before and it troubled her. She had her own worries, but they seemed to drift from her thoughts as all she could focus on was him. Who was he? Why was he here? What was it that made her stomach flutter and her knees weaken in his presence? Zalaya shook those thoughts from her mind. He'd be gone tomorrow, and that would be the end of it. The old ones were taking her to the refuge, and she'd never see him again. She'd never see anyone again. It was miserable to be the last of her line… the chosen. She sighed and returned to her hut. She tried not to think of tomorrow, but she couldn't help herself. Sleep was slow in coming and it was fitful. She dreamed of the Ranger, and he was in a great battle. He was surrounded by the enemy and her heart skipped a beat. She worried for him, and then she woke with a start.
"You like him," Talazora said in her sloppy toothless speech.
"Your age makes your perception foggy, old one," Zalaya said in annoyance.
"Your blood does not dictate your destiny, child," Talazora said.
"Keep your wisdom, there are no choices left me," Zalaya said angrily. "Tragarz would sooner kill me than let me go free."
"Not if he could not find you," Talazora said. "You know what he will do with the Ranger. They hate the followers of the dark lord."
Zalaya looked at Talazora angrily, "He is no evil man."
Talazora smiled, "It is time you made your own destiny. Take the man from here tonight. Take him home where he will be safe from the hatred of the elders."
"And then what?" Zalaya asked softly.
"Your path will be clear, trust yourself, and your gifts. You are the last heir, the holder of the ring. Your destiny lies far from this wasteland. Go."
"Then I have your blessing old one?"
Talazora grinned her gummy grin and then laughed, "Think you I was bringing you to the refuge? Your place is among the living, not the slumbering giants of old. You have my blessing, now pack provisions and ready his horse. You will not get far with a sled; they will know you have left. But they will not chase him alone. I will cover for you as long as I can. When they realize you have gone, it will be too late to follow."
"Thank you, wise one," Zalaya said and hugged her. She couldn't believe the swiftness of her fortune's change. Her future had hope again. It was foggy and unclear, but somewhere in the unknown, there was hope.