--
Helpless
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There was an unmistakable air of insecurity about the man standing in front of the king. He was shifting on his feet now, waiting for Elessar to notice his presence, but the latter seemed not to perceive this. His gaze was fixed on something at the far end of the hall, making him look rather arrogant.
His steward beheld him and subdued a smile; he knew that it was not arrogance that occupied Aragorn´s mind, but his newborn son.
To many who did not know him, the man who had lived in exile and had fought so many battles seemingly appeared to have grown hard, and not surprisingly so. Someone who had seen so much suffering and death was bound to be tough, otherwise he would have despaired a long time ago.
But Faramir knew how tender-hearted the former Ranger could be, how caring for others, and that he had a particular soft spot for his child.
--
The steward now cleared his throat audibly enough for Aragorn to be heard, and he jerked out of his reverie, looking at the peasant in front of him: "Oh. I am sorry."
He managed not to blush, though Faramir could see that he was embarassed. The king did not consider himself to be above his people, and certainly would not let anyone wait deliberately.
--
When that day´s audience had finally ended, Faramir approached Aragorn, who was tiredly rubbing his eyes: "Are you well, my lord?", he asked, because the king looked like he had not had much sleep of late.
"Yes, I am", Aragorn assured him. "The baby just keeps us awake is all." He smiled: "I have been told that it is quite normal for the parents not to get much sleep in the first few weeks."
Faramir returned the smile, rejoicing in Aragorn´s obvious elation. He had seldom seen him so openly joyous, and was glad about it. In his opinion, the man truly deserved it, for he had put the welfare of others before his own for so long.
--
When Aragorn returned to his private chambers this evening, he found his wife asleep in a rocking chair, her fair face looking slightly drawn.
The king had spent more time at his desk than he had intended to, and now Eldarion was in bed already. But rebuilding the country was not a simple task, and every day, more paper piled up to be dealt with, so he usually tried not to postpone anything.
Smiling, he knelt down in front of Arwen now and caressed her slender hands which lay in her lap, holding a baby blanket. She did not wake, though, and he did not want her to. He was glad about any rest she would get, as she was still recovering from giving birth.
Silently, he got up and walked over the cradle. To his surprise, his son was awake and quietly shifting about, uttering no other sounds than a soft snuffling, his eyes gazing up to nothing in particular, seemingly content.
Aragorn marvelled at the tiny being, his perfect little hands and the long dark lashes. Cautiously, he reached into the cradle and took his son up in his arms, careful to support the small head. He held the baby close to his face and inhaled the aroma of his skin, pure and sweet as it was, and finally laid his cheek against the little boy´s hair.
Eldarion stopped shifting so restlessly and gurgled softly.
Closing his eyes, Aragorn just stood there, engulfed by happiness.
--
He had not expected it to be like this, and he said so when Legolas had arrived a few days later, wishing to see the little prince and his proud parents.
Smiling, Arwen had laid Eldarion in Legolas´arms, taking him by surprise. He did not have a choice but to comply, and then he stood there, awestruck by the precious bundle he was holding.
Eldarion´s features were delicate, his fair skin contrasting with the short tufts of dark hair on his head.
Legolas gazed down on him; he had never held a baby before, and he had not known that it felt so wonderful and yet so frightening at the same time. Here was someone who fully depended on those around him, being more vulnerable than anyone else in this room.
The baby now stretched its tiny fists and waved its arms, and Legolas could not but smile at how strong those movements were: the whole body tensed for a moment, and the elf quickly tightened his grasp to prevent Eldarion from wriggling out of it.
He was about to pass the little boy back to his mother, when the baby unexpectedly opened his eyes. His still slightly unfocused gaze met Legolas´, who gasped at the colour of the eyes: they were of a light blue verging on silver, and as intense as Aragorn´s.
--
Spellbound, the elf slowly made his way over to the nearest chair and sat down, obviously unaware of the amused looks which Arwen and Aragorn exchanged at this, and unaware of his surroundings as well.
He and Eldarion remained like this for an unmeasured amount of time. The baby continued to look at Legolas, making little snuffling noises, its eyes moving from the elf´s own blue ones to the fair hair and back as if assessing its new acquaintance.
Legolas found himself smiling again, for Eldarion was so lovely. He already felt attached to him, and he knew that this feeling would grow quickly the more time he spent with him, just like it had been with Aragorn.
--
When the two old friends were sitting together later that evening, Legolas lifted his cup: "To your son", he said, his eyes sparkling, "may he be fortunate and just, and loved by many. In fact..."
He paused to smile, fondness evident in his features: "May he be like you."
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The End
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