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The Deed of Ged tells the story of the crowning of the King of All the Isles, and those of Gont tell the story otherwise. But still there is a third story, one where the young King came to Gont and went to the mountain of Gont and into its forests, searching for him who had been Archmage to bring him away to the world's heart for the coronation.
This is the third tale.
*
Arren came to the mountain of Gont, in his ears the voice of the man who had so recently been his companion urging him onward. They were words that Arren did not remember Ged speaking, but the voice spoke softly of the forests of Gont, and of the kingdom of forests. And so Arren came silently to the mountain of Gont, came silently into the forests that covered that great mountain, and he let his feet take him where they willed.
The woods were not silent. Arren could hear the soft sighing of the wind and the rustling of leaves, so low that they barely caught the ear but seemed to murmur to him nonetheless, until he ached to know what the not-silence of the forests could tell him, almost grieved that he knew not the language of the trees and wind, for he longed to ask if they knew where Ged had gone wandering.
He walked upwards and onward, undeterred by the lack of a path. People of Gont Port and Re Albi had told him that Ged had gone up to the mountain, but none could say where the last of the Dragonlords had gone or when he would return, and so Arren now sought him, alone, among these trees older than Erreth-Akbe, older than Maharion, dead these eight hundred years, perhaps even older than Morred, though Arren doubted any tree could still be standing that had lived during that far-ago age that seemed as long ago as forever.
As long ago as forever and as far away as Selidor, there lived a prince.... Arren shook his head to banish the myth that was no more a myth, and went on.
The ancient trees that stretched toward the sky were taller than any Arren had seen on the island of Enland, with its rolling hills and orchards. There was little sunlight, also, that flickered through the leaves and warmed Arren's face as he walked a path of his own making and thought slow, quiet thoughts. Perhaps he should have left the mountain when word reached him where Ged had gone, forbade the people of Gont and Re Albi to search for the last Dragonlord so that his friend could have peace. It would have been the kind thing to do, to give Ged his cherished solitude.
Still, the Doorkeeper had said of Ged that he has done with doing, and Arren wondered at that, for what else can man do but do. And he wished to see Ged's home and Ged himself once more before the coronation-- Ged, who had knelt to him before the Masters and people of Roke and called him his dear companion and lord and kissed his cheek.
He was still thinking these silent, ponderous thoughts when he came upon a place where the seeds from the surrounding trees had not found the ground and so had left an opening for the sky and the sun.
The sunlight almost blinded him after the dim light of the forest. He lifted his hand to his face, to cover his eyes, and then lowered it as his gaze fell upon the lone sapling in the middle of the clearing, and the man who sat beside it.
Arren had planned to speak, to implore his friend to come with him to Havnor, to say to him, "My lord, my friend, I would have you attend the ceremony and see me crowned." But when he saw Ged, sitting quietly in the clearing, his eyes shut and his face empty of all expression save for peace and a quiet sort of joy, all he knew of speech fled him and he was struck mute.
And so the young King stood there, voiceless and trembling with some fierce emotion that gripped him by the throat and would not release him, until at last Ged stirred and fixed those sharp, bright eyes upon Arren.
There was no sound but the sighing of the wind and the murmuring of the leaves, and then life returned to Arren's limbs and he came to Ged and knelt down, as Ged had done, on both knees, and seized Ged's right hand, as Ged had not.
It was before an audience of ancient trees and not of men that Arren took his lord's hand and pressed his lips to his lord's palm, kissed that beloved hand in a manner that spoke for the silent King far better than his words might have.
The lingering press of his lips spoke of love and longing, of tenderness and devotion, and most of all, of understanding, for Arren knew now that Ged would not return with him to Havnor to witness his crowning, not even if he asked it of him. And Arren would not ask it of him, for Ged's words and actions before the wizards had been their own crowning ceremony. Ged did not need to witness what he had begun. Instead, Arren must let Ged cast off his past of doing and assume of the role of a man who could simply be.
Ged's hand trembled beneath Arren's mouth, but Ged made no sound, just watched Arren with a look of fierce and unyielding love, as vast and boundless as the sea. And Ged spoke not, not even when Arren drew him close and kissed his cheek, so that they remained there, Ged sitting and Arren kneeling, for a time.
And at last Arren released his lord and stood, looking down at the man who had been Archmage, the one who gone with him to the far shores of the day and through the dark land and who knew his true name, and loved him more than he would ever love another, not for the rest of his days. And then he saw that Ged sat beside a young rowan tree, and laughed.
It was only then that he spoke, bidding his lord a good day and a promise that Ged would always be welcome at the world's heart, in Havnor, so long as Arren was king.
*
And so the young King came away from the forests of Gont, saying to the men and women who had awaited him at the bottom of the mountain, "Let my lord Sparrowhawk live as he will. He has done with doing, and rules a greater kingdom than I do." And so he departed and returned to the world's heart to be crowned as the King of All the Isles, and he who had been Archmage remained in his kingdom of trees and silence, uncrowned but unforgotten and greatly, fiercely loved.