AN OLD MAN'S FAREWELL
After midnight, early morning April 10, 3020

Introduction written by Hobbitness
Vardamir spurs his horse, wanting to leave the outlaw camp as quickly as possible. He wishes he did not have to return. He feels dirtied, having thrown in his lot with brigands who would keep women as slaves for their own pleasure. Algund's decision to break the ransom agreement and keep Lord Ashtum's wife and daughter for himself disgusts Vardamir to no end He hopes that he and Ceolwulf will soon be able to cut all ties with such unsavory characters.

Vardamir gallops across the countryside of Southern Gondor. He thinks of Minas Artano far to the north and a pang of grief for Aldir, his old friend now condemned to forced labor, pierces his heart. Then it passes as he focuses on his current mission. He rides to the humble dwelling of Berenon, the old cobbler who sheltered him and Ceolwulf and repaired their boots in return for their help with his garden. While they stayed with Berenon, an official of Mordor came to inform the old man of the exorbitant taxes he was now obliged to pay. Since Berenon could not afford the taxes, he was forced to become a serf of Lord Ashtum. This meant that Berenon was now a servant of Ashtum, his lands belonged to Ashtum, and his young grandson, Candon, would be made to join the army of Mordor.

Desperate to spare his beloved grandson this fate, Berenon pleaded with Vardamir and Ceolwulf to take Candon away with them and lead him to safety in Rohan. Vardamir and Ceolwulf agreed to return at the end of the month to fetch the boy. Now the appointed night has arrived, the night Berenon and Candon have both looked forward to and dreaded. Candon will have hope of a future after tonight, but he will never see his grandfather again.

Vardamir stops his horse in front of Berenon's hut and ties the reins to a tree. Swallowing his nervousness, Vardamir knocks on the door and prepares himself to perform his wrenching task.

Berenon portrayed by Hobbitness
Candon portrayed by Eowyn
Vardamir portrayed by Angmar

Vardamir: *Vardamir looks up at the stars as he walks down the path leading to Berenon's hut, and then arriving at the door, he knocks.* It is Vardamir, sir.
Berenon: *Since nightfall, Berenon has been sitting in a wooden chair, staring into the fire with a haunted, haggard gaze. At Vardamir's knock he rouses himself from his stupor*
Berenon: *Feeling a surge of panic, he glances up towards the loft where Candon is attempting to get some rest; then he steels himself and hobbles to the door.*
Berenon: *Berenon opens the door and smiles weakly at Vardamir* Hello...come in.
Vardamir: *He walks through the door* Good evening, sir. I cannot stay long. It is time...
Berenon: *"Just a little more time...just one more day!" he wants to plead. But that would be foolish. Clenching the back of his chair with white knuckles, he nods to Vardamir* Yes...yes... *He takes a deep breath* I will call my grandson
Berenon: *With some difficulty, Berenon climbs the ladder to the loft and peers in at Candon* Wake up, my dear boy. It is time.
Candon: *Candon pushes himself up on the straw-filled mattress upon which he had been resting, and rubs the sleep out of his eyes. He wonders what his grandfather means, but then the realization dawns upon him.*
Candon: So then Castamir and Cearl have returned? *he asks solemnly, looking to his grandfather with grave eyes.*
Berenon: *Berenon nods and attempts a reassuring smile* Castamir is here, but Cearl is not with him. *He descends a step of the ladder to make room for Candon* Come, my boy. *Slowly he goes down the ladder behind Candon*
Vardamir: *Vardamir sits down upon a stool and waits for Berenon to bring his grandson in. He feels pity for both of them because he knows they will never see each other again. He thinks about the journey across the mountains to Rohan, through secret passes that Algund told him about, passes through which Algund's men traded stolen goods with the Dunlandings for gold. "The journey will take a week or so, and we will be back in Gondor, back in the band of outlaws with Algund, Mindon and the others. This was not the way I had planned to spend my life," he thinks ruefully. It is an evil world when honest men must resort to robbery just to live.*
Candon: *Candon stands beside the ladder and waits for his grandfather to finish the last few steps. A quiet, somber mood is upon the lad, though his stomach quivers with anticipation at the thought of strange and exciting adventures. Leaving will mean leaving his grandfather, probably forever, though he hopes that perhaps there will be a way for him to return and take him to Rohan with him, but the journey also means escaping from a very unpleasant doom as a soldier in the army of Mordor, fighting for the Dark Land that was responsible for the deaths of his father and many other of his kinsmen and countrymen. He espies Vardamir sitting upon a stool in the large room of the house, and he smiles uneasily at him.*
Berenon: *Berenon moves to stand beside Candon and places a hand on the boy's shoulder*
Vardamir: Sir, we have little time. Is the lad ready to go?
Berenon: *He cannot keep his hand from trembling and tightening on Candon's shoulder*...Yes, he is. *He looks down at Candon to make sure he is all right*
Vardamir: *He gets up from the stool* And then we must be away into the night. Lad, get your belongings!
Candon: *Candon looks up to his grandfather and smiles a sad smile, trying to encourage him. He reaches a hand up and squeezes his grandfather's upon his shoulder*
Candon: They are in the loft *he says and then turns away from his grandfather and slowly mounts the ladder*
Vardamir: Sir, we will take good care of him
Berenon: *Berenon was loath to let go of the boy. He struggles to keep himself from lashing out at the man who will take his grandson from him...it is for Candon's own good, he reminds himself.*
Berenon: Yes, I hope that you will. *No, he must be more civil than that.* I know you will try your best.
Vardamir: But I can make no promises other than I will do my best to get the boy safely to Rohan
Berenon: *Berenon's eyes flash* You *must* get him safely to Rohan! If anything happens to him.... *His whole body trembles, his fists clench at his side, his eyes bore into Vardamir. But then Berenon worries that Candon might sense his anxiety from up in the loft...with a great effort he composes himself*
Berenon: *He waves his hand distractedly* Forgive me...I know you will try your best *he says again*
Vardamir: I will not lie to you. The journey is long, over the high mountains, and there will likely be enemy patrols.
Candon: *Candon returns from the loft, a small pack hoisted upon his back. He stands close beside his grandfather, his heart aching that he must leave.*
Berenon: Enemy patrols?! *It is a choked whisper. Berenon's already ashen face turns even paler. He clutches at the back of his chair, feeling faint.*
Berenon: *Then he turns and sees Candon. He feels terrible that the boy has seen him display such fear. He forces a smile and goes to meet Candon, putting a hand on his shoulder again* All ready, then?
Candon: *Candon looks up to his grandfather and nods, a strange sense of cold numbness gripping his mind. His thoughts reel with the tumults of the situation, so many things, both good and ill, all at once.*
Vardamir: Then, lad, let us be going. There is not a moment to spare! Say goodbye to your grandfather and come with me. *He gets off the stool, goes to the door and opens it and walks outside to his horse*
Candon: *Candon turns to his grandfather and embraces him tightly, and the spell of nervelessness is broken in a rush, and he quiets the sounds of his weeping in the fabric of his grandfather's tunic.*
Candon: I will miss you so badly! *he sniffs* I will try to come back - if I can! I hope so!
Berenon: *Berenon falls to his knees to hug his grandson. His arms tighten protectively around Candon, and he kisses the boy's head as Candon weeps into his tunic.*
Berenon: *Berenon's breath comes in slow heaves, shuddery and uneven, as he tries to keep from crying himself. For long moments he cannot speak. Then he says in a deep, fervent voice* Your father would be so proud of you. I will miss you too, Candon, more than I can say. *He pauses to embrace him even tighter* But it is not safe for you to come back... and I could not make the trip anyway. We will meet again someday, where you will be welcomed as a hero when your time comes. May you have a long and happy life, full of adventures, but also of peace. I love you, my boy. *He tries to make his voice cheerful, but it breaks.*
Candon: Oh, grandfather, do not speak of such things...! *he cries, not wishing to hear of Mandos and of death.* I will come back someday, if I can. *he squeezes his grandfather tightly* I love you, grandfather!
Candon: *Sniffing, he kisses his grandfather upon the forehead and squeezing him tightly one more time, breaks away from his embrace*
Berenon: *Berenon looks upon Candon with a warm smile. He smooths the hair off his grandson's forehead and returns the kiss. Then he squeezes the boy's shoulders and rises stiffly from his kneeling position*
Berenon: *Cupping Candon's face in his hand, he smiles again* Enjoy your adventures. Something tells me you will have a great deal of fun. *he winks* Be careful! But enjoy yourself!
Vardamir: *Outside, Vardamir stands, holding his horse by the reins, worrying about how much time this goodbye is taking*
Candon: *Despite his tears, Candon grins at his grandfather* Thank you! *he beams* I just know I will! *hugging him again* I love you - I miss you - I will try to come back!
Candon: *He does not feel like saying goodbye.. the word sticks in his throat. He takes a long look at his grandfather and then turning, walks slowly towards the door.*
Berenon: *Berenon follows Candon to the door, but then hesitates. He continues to smile with tears in his eyes. He can find no words...then he manages to repeat* I love you. *He pats Candon on the head one more time, then opens the door for him.*
Candon: *Candon looks back at his grandfather and smiles* I love you, too. *The words goodbye or farewell still stick in his throat, so he just smiles again and then walks out through the open door into the dark night. The heavens are dotted with the tiny lights of thousands of stars, and frogs croak from nearby puddles. Candon walks to where Vardamir stands* Hello there, sir, I am ready to go.
Vardamir: *Taking the reins in his hand, Vardamir mounts the horse. He extends his hand to Candon* Take hold, boy, put your foot in the stirrup and give a little jump and get behind me.
Candon: *Taking Vardamir's hand, Candon scrambles up on the back of the horse with a grunt. He holds the tall man loosely about the waist and glances over to the little thatched-roof hut, its features vaguely seen in the darkness of the moonless night. The narrow windows have a dim amber glow emitting from them. His grandfather stands in the doorway, a sad smile upon his face. He memorizes this scene, engraving it in his memory. He smiles at his grandfather and waves at him, one last time.*
Vardamir: *Vardamir looks at Berenon* Farewell, sir. *Then he touches his heels to the horse's side and urges him into a trot and they ride slowly out to the road.*
Berenon: *Berenon smiles and waves back, the cold night air swishing gently through his gnarled fingers and chilling the tears that linger on his face. He does not avert his gaze until the horse that bears Candon is out of sight.*
Candon: *Though the horse's hooves go at a leisurely pace, they bear Candon ever farther from the place of his birth, the village that had been the only thing he had known in his ten years, familiar places and sights.*
Candon: *To adventure they go, and to freedom, not to be impressed into service to the forces of the enemy and forced to disgrace the memory of his fallen kin and his defeated country. Candon breathes in deeply of the crisp night air and lets the hoof-falls of the horse lull his mind and sooth his heart of sorrows and grief as they ride under star and velvet sky.*
Berenon: *When Candon disappears, it seems that the ground has dropped out from under Berenon's feet. Worry for the boy and grief for his loss fill the old man's mind and make his heart pound at an alarming rate. This cannot be real; he cannot have lost everyone! He has buried his wife, his son, and his daughter-in-law, and now the loss of Candon is too much to bear.*
Berenon: *He closes the door behind him, and a fit of uncontrollable weeping takes him by surprise. He slumps against the wall until he manages to force his grief down into the depths of his being. He is exhausted. He trembles violently. He must rest; it is the only thought his mind still has the strength to bear. He stumbles across the room toward his chair by the fire.*
Berenon: *But before he reaches it, he feels a searing pain in his chest. He is crying out; he is on his knees; he is lying face down on the floor. He gasps for breath, in terrible pain, but his agony is mercifully short. When the sun rises at dawn, its light will fall upon the crumpled body of the old man... the latest victim of Mordor's treachery.*

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