Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original characters or storylines, it´s all either Prof. Tolkien´s or New Line Cinema´s/Peter Jackson´s...
--
Author´s note:
Dear readers,
you might want to have your tissues ready...
--
Not This Time
--
Arwen Undómiel stood at the window of her bedroom and gazed out over Minas Tirith. Golden afternoon light bathed the white stone in marvellous colours, and yet the queen was oblivious to the beauty.
She held her head upright and balled her slender hands into fists while trying to regain her composure. Her eyes were swimming, but she willed herself not to cry. She did not want anyone to draw wrong conclusions, not the court, nor and least her son who she knew was waiting outside.
She braced herself and turned around to the bed, approaching it silently.
.
Aragorn had fallen ill a few days ago, and inevitably, rumours had been spreading immediately. The king was not young anymore, and already his son was gradually taking over more and more responsibility, causing people to talk.
.
The queen beheld her sleeping husband; his face was lined, his once dark hair had turned grey. He looked old, but there still was a strength in him that made others forget his age.
What had brought Arwen to tears earlier was something new in his face, something she had not noticed before: he looked weary.
Now that he was sleeping, the years of responsibility were showing distinctly. When he was awake, they were less noticable, because his eyes had remained young and unaltered, full of energy and vigour. It were these eyes that strangers noticed first and the queen never failed to marvel at.
.
Arwen sighed sadly and stroked her husband´s temple. The fever had broken, and he was resting. She knew that this was nothing other than a normal illness, which could befall humans quite easily and would be fought off after a few days. He would not leave her, not yet. But seeing him like this, cold fear had gripped her heart and left her shaking with dread: it would not be long now, and she hated that thought like she had never hated anything before.
Although Aragorn had been blessed with a long life, it seemed to have flashed by too quickly.
Arwen tried not to think of how much she would miss him, how empty he would leave her, how bereft of the warmth he had always been able to give her.
.
She forbid herself these thoughts; he was not gone yet, and would not be for some time. And when the day came, she would be there, would make sure that he knew she would never cease to love him.
She had made her choice long ago, and she had never regretted it...
.
The End
.