Title:   Disaster

Synopsis:  A simple trip from Edoras meets with unexpected disaster, leaving the White City and the Queen in a state of shock.

Rating: PG

Spoilers: Takes place after Return of the King.

Pairing: Aragorn / Arwen.

Disclaimer: I'm not Tolkien. I don't own these characters. (darn!) I make no money. Done for fun.

Additional Info: Movie-verse.

   The rest of my stories can be found if you click on my name and go to the web page listed in my profile.

Archive: If you like, just tell me where.

Disaster

Prologue

"You're certain that you will be back in time?" Arwen asked, for probably the hundredth time.

Aragorn stopped his dressing, his tunic half open, turned around and swept his wife into his arms.  He dropped a firm kiss to her upturned pouting lips and embraced her tightly.

"I will not miss the birth. I promise. Eomer has requested aid and I cannot send another in my place to speak with the King." He pressed another kiss to her lips as she clutched at his shoulders.

When his hands slid down over her stomach, she sighed, relaxing into his gentle touch. "Also, Lothoriel is nearly ready to give birth, and since he has missed the birth of their son, I believe his health to be at risk if he should travel here and miss this next."

Arwen smiled slowly, knowing exactly how Lothoriel would feel. Arwen, herself, would feel no different. And - she had another three months. She'd convinced herself that it would not take Aragorn so long to complete his business within the Horse Lord's kingdom that he would miss the birth of their second child.

The royal couple were interrupted by a squealing child, who raced around the partially opened door and went straight for his father's legs.

"Ada!"

Aragorn and Arwen glanced down as their son firmly wrapped his arms around his father's leg and glanced proudly back toward the doorway.

His nursemaid stood with her hands on her hips, milk dripping down her normally immaculate clothing. She sent the young prince a scathing stare that would have wilted a man other than the son of the King.

"And what did you do now?" Aragorn stared down at the boy, who turned wide, innocent eyes up to his father.

"My lord," The nursemaid curtsied properly while dabbing a rag at her wet clothes. "He thought it fun to play a game with his meal. It – did not go well."

A bubble of laughter escaped Arwen's lips and Aragorn repressed the urge to laugh at the thoroughly indignant nursemaid. "Yes, I can see." He favored his son with an amused eyebrow. "And how is it that you have, as usual, escaped this 'game' free of food stains?"

"I fast!" Eldarion smiled confidently up at his father, who bent and scooped the boy into his arms. "Sneaky! Like you!"

Aragorn raised an eyebrow. "It took me many long years as a Ranger to avoid being caught in – sticky – situations . It would do you good to learn early, that such, behavior, is not becoming a prince."

Eldarion lowered his eyes in shame. It was not often that his father rebuked his actions, so thoroughly smitten with the young prince as the King was, but it was time for Aragorn to rein in his son with a firmer hand. "You will apologize immediately and then you will assist in the mess I am sure you have made in the dining hall."

"But-" The five year old began to protest.

"I don't want to hear it." Aragorn stared sternly down at his son and the boy dared not argue.

Aragorn gave his son a hug, which was not returned, and set the boy down. "Now go." He patted Eldarion's backside and pushed him toward the door, being rewarded by an angry scowl as the child glanced back over his shoulder.

Once Eldarion and his nursemaid had gone, Arwen slipped into her husband's arms. "I'm proud of you. I thought you were again going to let him get away with it again."

Aragorn sighed. "He's a handful to be sure. I can not imagine ever troubling my mother so much."

Arwen laughed and pressed a kiss to his whiskered cheek. "No, you troubled my father instead!"

She twisted out of his arms as he swatted playfully at her backside. "You just wait, if that is a daughter you bear, you will spoil her just as I spoil Eldarion!" He called as she quickly waddled around the corner.

"I've had plenty of practice watching you!" Came the retort, which Aragorn wisely chose to ignore. Instead, he finished dressing and then walked into the nursery where he knew Arwen would be waiting to see him off.

He slipped his hands around her waist and for a few moments neither of them spoke. They simply watched the royal garden below and listened to the cool breeze ruffle the leaves and snake through the flowers.

"It will not take me three months to return," He pressed his lips to the tip of her ear and delighted in the soft gasp such an intimate action drew from her lips.

"I think it will." Arwen said, her voice hollow, haunting, in its emotionless tone. "I don't want you to go."

Aragorn dropped his head and buried his face in her neck. "I know. I'm sorry, but I must. This doesn't happen often, but Eomer has asked for my help and I cannot refuse."

Arwen turned around in his arms and embraced him tightly. "I love you, indonya. Come back to me."

Aragorn cupped her cheeks in the palms of his hands and tilted her head. When their lips met, Arwen clung to him, as if should she let go, he would forever be lost to her.

"I will always return to you." He whispered against her lips as he drank in her taste and scent. With a longsuffering sigh of regret, he disengaged himself from her embrace, and left, never realizing that her fears were about to become reality.

Hidden somewhere along the vast plains of the Horse Lords, danger awaited the King and his entourage. But they would not realize it until it was too late.