~*I don't own the characters you may recognize., they are the property of JRR Tolkien. All original or unknown character will be mine.*~
Aragorn stared longingly out his throne room window down at his subjects. He watched as they went about their daily lives, secretly wishing to trade places with them. 'King Elessar', sometimes the title felt like a cage to him, bound to a life of service to his people. How he yearned to be known as 'Strider' again, desiring the freedom that had come with being a ranger of the North. The more time he spent in the castle, the more he missed his old life. Yet he continued his rule of Gondor, bringing joy and beauty back to The White City. Aragorn had much honor and would not break his promise to Borimir by abdicating and returning to his past existence.
He could tell no-one of his feelings as there was no-one in the world that would understand him. The king even found it difficult to discuss with his wife, who was more precious then any jewel the Dwarves could mine. Still he could not or more so would not tell her about his need to be free again. To feel the soft grass on woods under his feet once more, would make him endlessly happy. Though Aragorn feared if he was to tell his bride he was unhappy, she would take it the wrong way and feel she had in some way done something wrong.
Arwen had been raised as a princess, brought up as royalty. She's never known anything but that life and would not be able to see how anyone, even her beloved husband could not love it also. She certainly would never understand longing for something more that what is inside the palace walls. So Elessar kept silent and lived with his constant yearning for a simpler life.
"Their majesties, Prince Legolas of Mirkwood and King Eomer of Rohan, are requesting an audience my Lord." The official sounding voice of one of Gondor's sentries interrupted Aragorn's thoughts.
The King turned him head for the window and gave a nod to the guard. "Show them in."
Aragorn stood in the center of the room with his shoulders squared and his cleft chin pointed. He was poised and noble looking as we waited for his friends to enter. When the hall door was closed and he was left alone with his two companions, his posture faltered and he stood less erect, more comfortably. "Years were have been friends and still they insist on announce your arrival like you are common strangers."
"They are your guards Aragorn, it is their duty to protect you." Legolas reached out to touch the kings shoulder in their traditional greeting.
"In all the years you have known me Legolas, when have I ever needed protection?"
"It is the same in Rohan, Lord Aragorn, I see no one until they are declared to me. It is tradition, there are rules we must follow whether we agree with them or not. There is a proper way to do everything, as Kings it is our a responsibility abide by them, as all the kings of old have before us." Eomer declared knowingly.
King Elessar shook his head, it was evident neither of his friends could see his point, to comprehend how confined he felt inside the spacious halls of Minas Tirith. Trapped by his lineage, he never wanted to be the king, to rule any land but that which he stood on. He longed to be free once more, to again see all that he had once seen, to leave the castle walls without fearing of what may happen to Gondor in his departure.
He said nothing else of his problems through the rest of his quest's visit to his home, his prison. They like his wife had been raised from birth in regal care, sheltered and pampered as a prince and the King's nephew would be. They had never had true freedom and could sincerely miss it the same as Aragorn. He was alone in his heartache and longing for alive outside of the jail his title had brought.
In the citadel stood a monument he had erected in Boromir's likeness, in tribute of the brave the son of Gondor, who would never return to his beloved land. It was strong and sturdy as the man it honored had been. Tall it stood, so large, on a clear night you could see it from Oscillate a token of glory. Aragorn crept to the statue and dropped to his knees in front of it.
"Boromir, I can not do this. I can not be king. You were more meant for this then I, save my blood. Tis not fair that I should be here only by my bond too Isildur. You dear friend are destined for this, not I. I feel at times, Merry or Pippin would be better suited to be leader of Gondor, then I am.
Curse this blood that flows in my veins! Curse that binds me to kingship, curse everything!"
In the darkness of evening the king snuck from his chambers slipping into the stables. He mounted his horse and rode out into the inky black night, without saying goodbye to anyone.
Aragorn stared longingly out his throne room window down at his subjects. He watched as they went about their daily lives, secretly wishing to trade places with them. 'King Elessar', sometimes the title felt like a cage to him, bound to a life of service to his people. How he yearned to be known as 'Strider' again, desiring the freedom that had come with being a ranger of the North. The more time he spent in the castle, the more he missed his old life. Yet he continued his rule of Gondor, bringing joy and beauty back to The White City. Aragorn had much honor and would not break his promise to Borimir by abdicating and returning to his past existence.
He could tell no-one of his feelings as there was no-one in the world that would understand him. The king even found it difficult to discuss with his wife, who was more precious then any jewel the Dwarves could mine. Still he could not or more so would not tell her about his need to be free again. To feel the soft grass on woods under his feet once more, would make him endlessly happy. Though Aragorn feared if he was to tell his bride he was unhappy, she would take it the wrong way and feel she had in some way done something wrong.
Arwen had been raised as a princess, brought up as royalty. She's never known anything but that life and would not be able to see how anyone, even her beloved husband could not love it also. She certainly would never understand longing for something more that what is inside the palace walls. So Elessar kept silent and lived with his constant yearning for a simpler life.
"Their majesties, Prince Legolas of Mirkwood and King Eomer of Rohan, are requesting an audience my Lord." The official sounding voice of one of Gondor's sentries interrupted Aragorn's thoughts.
The King turned him head for the window and gave a nod to the guard. "Show them in."
Aragorn stood in the center of the room with his shoulders squared and his cleft chin pointed. He was poised and noble looking as we waited for his friends to enter. When the hall door was closed and he was left alone with his two companions, his posture faltered and he stood less erect, more comfortably. "Years were have been friends and still they insist on announce your arrival like you are common strangers."
"They are your guards Aragorn, it is their duty to protect you." Legolas reached out to touch the kings shoulder in their traditional greeting.
"In all the years you have known me Legolas, when have I ever needed protection?"
"It is the same in Rohan, Lord Aragorn, I see no one until they are declared to me. It is tradition, there are rules we must follow whether we agree with them or not. There is a proper way to do everything, as Kings it is our a responsibility abide by them, as all the kings of old have before us." Eomer declared knowingly.
King Elessar shook his head, it was evident neither of his friends could see his point, to comprehend how confined he felt inside the spacious halls of Minas Tirith. Trapped by his lineage, he never wanted to be the king, to rule any land but that which he stood on. He longed to be free once more, to again see all that he had once seen, to leave the castle walls without fearing of what may happen to Gondor in his departure.
He said nothing else of his problems through the rest of his quest's visit to his home, his prison. They like his wife had been raised from birth in regal care, sheltered and pampered as a prince and the King's nephew would be. They had never had true freedom and could sincerely miss it the same as Aragorn. He was alone in his heartache and longing for alive outside of the jail his title had brought.
In the citadel stood a monument he had erected in Boromir's likeness, in tribute of the brave the son of Gondor, who would never return to his beloved land. It was strong and sturdy as the man it honored had been. Tall it stood, so large, on a clear night you could see it from Oscillate a token of glory. Aragorn crept to the statue and dropped to his knees in front of it.
"Boromir, I can not do this. I can not be king. You were more meant for this then I, save my blood. Tis not fair that I should be here only by my bond too Isildur. You dear friend are destined for this, not I. I feel at times, Merry or Pippin would be better suited to be leader of Gondor, then I am.
Curse this blood that flows in my veins! Curse that binds me to kingship, curse everything!"
In the darkness of evening the king snuck from his chambers slipping into the stables. He mounted his horse and rode out into the inky black night, without saying goodbye to anyone.