“They’re out here somewhere,” muttered Aldamir over and over.  “They must be here.”

The five adventurers had been wandering through the beautiful grass and trees surrounding Orthanc all morning, with Aldamir occasionally calling out for Ents as though they were dogs.  This was not proving effective.

Astra patted him on the back.  “I don't think the Ents want to talk to us.”

“We could try knocking on trees,” suggested Timothy giggling, “maybe one will wake up.”

“That sounds horribly rude!” objected Caranel.

“I'm joking, I'm joking,” mumbled Timothy.  “It's not like I'm suggesting we light a fire…”

There was a creaking sound from the tree nearest Timothy.  After a moment's startled silence everyone laughed; it had been only a gust of wind bending the tree.  Probably.

“We need lunch,” said Eddil.

Astra nodded.  “Come on dear, we should go back to the tower.”

Aldamir reluctantly agreed.  They returned to Orthanc where they had a mediocre meal.  Timothy went to ask Thorongil if he had any advice to help them find an Ent.

“You could light the forest on fire,” he suggested.

“Come on, be serious!” said Timothy.

“Lighting the forest on fire would be quite effective,” replied Thorongil, “why do you want to find an ent?”

“Aldamir really wants to meet one,” he replied.
“I can't imagine why,” muttered Thorongil.

“You can't help us?” asked Timothy incredulously.

“If you are on a quest to befriend Ents, you do not want me around,” said Thorongil.

“Why?”

Thorongil slammed his fist on the table beside his seat.  “Because they are cowards! I have no love for them and they none for me!  Do you know how many of my eagles died in The War? Not to mention Elves and Men!  We marched for the freedom of every soul in Middle Earth and they couldn't be bothered to join us.   ‘It's not our fight’ they said. Those in Beleriand would have hindered us, too, had Yavanna’s wiser servants not intervened.  Pity they didn't try…”

Timothy was completely speechless, his mouth agape.  He never imagined the Valar’s servants quarreling.

Thorongil broke into laughter.  “I guess you weren't expecting that!  Should you really be surprised that fire and the forest don't get along?”

Thorongil rose and beckoned Timothy to follow.  He went to a balcony high above the trees and whistled.  A sparrow came up from to forest to sit on the railing.

“Any Ents about?” asked The Prince of Eagles.

The little bird gave him an answer in chirps.

“He says he hasn't seen any,” explained Thorongil.

“I don't suppose you could teach me to talk to birds?” asked Timothy excitedly.

Thorongil shook his head.  “I'm sorry, I can not. Perhaps my wife can.”

Timothy spent the afternoon reading books in the tower’s library, which under Saruman had grown quite extensive, while his friends kept searching the forest.  On the Palantír, written by Saruman himself, took up the most of his time.  Despite his considerable education there were entire chapters he did not understand, and he only got a third of the way through the first volume.

The two maiar joined the five adventurers for dinner.  The main dining room of Orthanc, with its black marble walls and high vaulted ceilings, made a fantastic backdrop for planning an adventure.

“I hear you have taken the paths of the dead?” inquired Thorongil.  Timothy, Aldamir, Eddil, and Caranel all shivered in fear. Images of the monster prowling the dead city flashed before their eyes.

“I haven't,” replied Astra.  “And though Aldamir won't tell me the whole story I hear there is something to be hunted in there.”

Caranel disagreed.  “We can't go back there, it's guarded by something terrible.  Something… undead.”

Thorongil grinned.  “That sounds interesting.”

“We are not going back there!” declared Eddil confidently.  “Right?”

Aldamir thought longingly of the gold they had left behind.  Timothy suddenly realized that it would be an opportunity to see Eönwë fight and kill something truly dangerous, something no mortal had witnessed since the Edain of the First Age.  Only Caranel agreed with her husband.

Eddil was completely dumbfounded.  “Are you two seriously considering going back there?  Have you forgotten what we went through that night!”

“If Thorongil thinks he can kill the beast…” began Timothy.

“Why should we expect that he can?” asked Caranel.  Timothy winced at the question.

“You can't be sure,” replied Thorongil.  “But I have slain many monsters over the years more dangerous than whatever you saw.”

“How can you be sure?” asked Eddil.

Thorongil leaned back in his chair.  “Because you are here to tell me about it.”

“Can you be more specific?” asked Aldamir.  “You have not told us much about your past.”

Thorongil smiled.  “No I haven't,” was all the answer they got.

“We need to return to the King, so this whole question is moot!” claimed Eddil.

“Well we don't all need to return,” Timothy countered.

“Well if you expect a share of the reward from the King you ought to,” smiled Caranel.

“Perhaps another time,” said Aldamir to Thorongil.

“I don't see why you need to be there,” observed Thorongil.

“Hey, I want a share of that gold!” objected Aldamir.

“Are you planning to help kill the beast?” asked Thorongil.

“Well… no.  But I found it first.”

Everyone laughed.  It was late, so they resolved to rest the night and decide their course in the morning.  When dawn came they resolved to return to the White City, though Thorongil suddenly realized a flaw in his planning: Thuringwethil had no horse, she had travelled to the Isengard in bat form.  This clearly was not an option with the mortal adventurers present. He decided to say he would call an eagle for her, and have her fly back to Minas Tirith the next day.

Thorongil and the five adventurers rode back to Minas Tirith over the course of ten days.  When they arrived Thorongil went immediately to report his success to Aragorn. The following morning Aldamir, and to his friends’ annoyance only Aldamir, was summoned to appear before the King.

After several hours of waiting patiently outside the Palace of the King, Princess Amdirien came to speak with Aldamir.

“I am afraid my father will be unable to see you,” she explained.  “He has been in council with his generals since before dawn.”

Aldamir fell to his knee.  “I understand, Your Majesty.”

“Thorongil reported your success.  Do you have anything else to add?”

Aldamir suddenly realized they had not actually done anything more than ride to Isengard and back, so he shook his head.

“Thank you for your service,” said the Princess.  “Please extend my gratitude to your friends.”

“The honor is to serve,” replied Aldamir.  After the Princess had returned to the Palace he set off for his home to report to his friends that they were not getting a reward this time.

“Damn, I wanted that bow,” moaned Astra when she got the news.

“What bow?” asked Caranel.

Astra explained how she had tested a three millennia old elvish bow at a shop on the sixth level.  Caranel had clearly heard of it.

“I know a few rangers who want that thing,” she said.  “My money's on it going to Thorongil. If any royalty wanted it they would have it, and the King seems intent on showering Thorongil and Elerína with lavish gifts.  I can't imagine what a room in the Palace would cost, if money could even buy that.”

“I wonder if even the King knows who they really are…” mused Eddil.

Aldamir nodded.  “I think he does.  My father told me that he heard rumor that when they first arrived Thorongil and the King nearly quarreled, until Elerína handed him a mysterious letter and somehow everything was cleared up.”

“What do you think, Tim?” asked Caranel.  “You seemed to have a few theories about who they were back when we first met them.”

Timothy shrugged.  “Oh, I wouldn't venture to guess.”

“Well that's a first!” laughed Eddil.

“I think you know, or at least you think you know,” said Caranel.

Timothy turned a bit pale.  “It's clearly a secret, so it's unwise to guess just in case you get it right.”

Aldamir laughed.  “You have absolutely no clue, and are just trying to make us think you are being secretive instead of clueless!”

Everyone else burst into laughter.  Timothy sighed in relief. Aldamir for his part didn't believe a word of his own story; he had known Timothy for many years; they met as children after a history class at Minas Tirith’s library.  Aldamir was three years his senior but could hardly keep up with Timothy’s incessant questions to their professor. They had been friends for seven years and Aldamir could tell that Timothy knew who their mysterious allies where.  He could also see that he was terrified of revealing it, so he helped his friend evade the question.

Later that night, after Eddil and Caranel were gone, Aldamir slipped out of bed and into the guest room where Timothy slept.

“Tim!” he whispered from beside his bed.  “Wake up!”

Timothy sat up, startled from a dream.  “What do you want? Got another scheme to sneak into the library?”

It had been many years since that particular adventure went sideways.

“I can tell you know who Thorongil and Elerína are…” whispered Aldamir.

“What makes you say that?” replied Timothy.

“I have known you for a long time, and for all your cleverness you are a poor liar.”

“I can't tell you, Aldamir.”

“I don't expect you too; but you would tell me if they were a threat, either to us or the realm, wouldn't you?”

“What?  Yes!” Timothy nodded.  “The King is wise to keep them in the Palace.”

“Wise because they keep us safe or wise because he can keep an eye on them?”

“Gondor has never been as safe as it is with them in the Citadel,” whispered Timothy.  “It is wise of the King to allow them use of his Palace because it is incredible that they have not returned to Mirkwood to live among elves!”

“Good, good,” replied Aldamir.  “They are maiar, right?”

“Aldamir, please!”

“Sorry, sorry!”

Aldamir returned to his own room.  “They are definitely maiar,” he muttered.