AN: Thanks to Anthi35 for the review!
A quick note in response about where Eldarion is in this story; well, he is still waiting to be born! So I am setting it up that Eldarion is the youngest son and born very late in Aragorn's reign, maybe 50 years into the reign. I am doing this mostly because waiting 120 years for the throne and then taking it up at 120 seem very trying. Even if Eldarion is still strong and middle-aged at 120, that's like waiting for a job and unable to start any other career until you are like 45. Judging from history of the real world and those princes who waited too long, it is just a terrible brew for anyone's state of mind and the worst for father-son relationships lol. So in this story Eldarion will just be non-existent. There are two princesses for now who understand they are heirs presumptive and a little brother is coming and will cut in front of them in terms of inheriting. I think it makes for slightly healthier family life. This point will come up again as the story progresses.
Hope you enjoy!
After Kor took leave of the King, he found Princess Araniel waiting for him in the corridor with an eager look. He bowed to her, and she only smiled with no concern for formal politesse, instead she said, "We can speak now if you are not otherwise occupied. Join me in my garden for a glass of wine?"
"Of course, my lady."
They stepped into the beautiful private garden behind the princess's chamber. A single young oak tree grew in the center of a lush green lawn. It was spring, and the grey boughs of the oak tree glowed with new leaves, and delicate snowdrops blossomed in the grass. A table and two chairs of wrought iron sat under the oak tree, simple but elegant, made comfortable with finely embroidered satin cushions stuffed with goose down. This was the princess's favorite little corner of the citadel.
A flagon and two goblets were already set upon the table, as well as a bundle of black fabric. Araniel poured a goblet of wine and offered it to Kor, before pouring one for herself as well. Kor took a shallow taste and found it a strong wine, stiff and tart, the type he preferred, but Araniel always liked a sweet, gentle wine. The gaping hole in his heart grew larger still, but he forced himself to laugh.
"The fair moon is not here, so," He then recited a line of slightly changed poetry in his native tongue, "'I raise my glass to invite the sun.'"
"'And with the shadows we are a veritable crowd,'" Araniel smiled again, she too subtly changed the venerated line from his land, "It is your birthday, Prince, and you are not so alone. I say the occasion demands more uplifting poetry."
"The poet of old can make himself happy and amongst friends even at night under a cold moon, alone in his garden. Surely that is uplifting?"
"Perhaps, but is not a poem about making joy out of joy more befitting?" The young princess winked at him, "'An old friend loves my taste, comes to me with a flagon of wine. Beneath the pine tree we sit, few cups do we need to dream.'—I hope an oak is not too poor a substitute for pine."
Kor looked at the princess with wonderment and a measure of adoration he could not quite mask completely, and he laughed, shaking his head, "I am awed, my lady, you have found perhaps the only poem written by my people where wine does not accompany loneliness and parting."
"Then your people do not drink enough!" Cried out the princess, raising her cup, "We shall drink to that, Prince Kor of Harad."
Kor thought he must tell her ere his heart breaks, and then he shall have to do as every trope does, drink to parting. But just as he was about to open his mouth Araniel put down her goblet and took up the black bundle on the table, saying, "I have a gift for you. Turning thirty is a momentous occasion for your people, is it not so?"
Ai, if he must unleash sorrow let it be after some celebration at least! So Kor swallowed his bitter news and smiled valiantly once more, and he said, "Indeed, we say 'At thirty one stands and shoulders his own doing'."
"Then I hope my gift is worthy of the occasion."
Princess Araniel shook open the black bundle, and suddenly Kor found himself staring at a beautiful robe, made in the fashion of formal robes his people wear, yet somehow subtly different. The cloth was smooth and supple, the rich midnight black only broken by the grey patterned brocade that formed the collar and the belt. The devices of his house, the crane and the clouds, were embroidered in silver upon black on the flowing sleeves, and there was an embroidered design of flowers encircling the hem and creeping up towards the belt, white and delicate like the kiss of snowflakes.
"Is that snowdrops at the hem?" Kor wondered out loud, "A symbol of the white city?"
"It is a flower called niphredil in Sindarin, a symbol of my foremother, but for you, it is a symbol of me, something to think of me by, if you will." Araniel's face was now behind the black robe, and her grey eyes peered out with an uncharacteristic shyness.
Kor was at such a loss for words that eventually he blurted out, "This is the fashion of my people, yet… I think it looks different somehow from the robes we have at home."
Araniel laughed, and she said with clear pride, "I made it my way, of course. Your people do not cut the clothing exactly to the measurement of the person, relying on the belt to tighten it up; I guess people thought everything would hang loose and flowing anyway. But it will look far more handsome if the shoulder and chest area is cut to size and sewn fitted, believe me." At the end of this explanation she blushed faintly.
"You made it all by yourself?"
"Yes, so perhaps you will find the tailoring less than perfect. At least my embroidery is not to be trifled with."
Kor fell silent again. There was naught he could say, for his chest swelled with joy, yet every joy was bitter. Araniel now looked puzzled, and she murmured, "Do you not like it? I know in Harad crimson and gold are the more common colors for ceremonial robes, but I thought your people love black well enough, so why not something that would be beautiful to the both of us?"
"It is beyond beautiful, therefore my heart is beyond sorrowed," Kor spoke with difficulty, "After such a gift, I can only offer parting in return."
"Oh." Araniel paused a few moments, then she said with a small smile, "You are a prince after all, and have many duties to perform. No matter. When do you think you will take up the ambassador's house again?"
"I do not think I shall return, Princess. My father is unwell; he calls me home to assume the greatest of my duties."
Araniel stood frozen for a long time, still and pale and gleaming like the white tree before the fountain. After the initial shock passed her look became pensive. Slowly and deliberately she folded up the robe in her hand and laid the black bundle on the table, all the while wearing that thoughtful look. Kor took a deep breath and clenched his fist. Araniel's silence made him bold, and he thought, if he should depart without ever returning, he might as well say his piece and let his heart be known. Why ever not? They were to be parted, and unrequited love would have no chance to fester into something ill; it would be forever fair and bittersweet, as a beautiful memory of a passing summer.
"Princess, ere we drink to our parting, I must tell you something near my heart."
Araniel looked at him, expectant yet also fearful, and that strange expression made his chest constrict. He forced himself to turn away from Araniel's silver grey gaze, lest he lose all courage, and he said, "I love you, Princess. I have loved you for many years, first as a dear companion and friend, and now as that which is more beloved than all else under heaven. I know not what this love means; ai, it means nothing, for harrowing dangers and duties await me, and you are the heir of Arnor and Gondor. Yet I wish to tell you, Princess, for I will soon be gone forever from your world, and this memory might warm your heart a little should you think of it on a cold winter day."
There, he said his piece. So he refilled the two goblets with wine.
"My lady, we can now drink to parting."
Araniel would not take the cup, and her eyes flashed dangerously.
"I cannot drink in wrath to parting, my lord. My heart shuddered with joy hearing love from your lips, and now that heart is aflame with anger. You feelings must be shallow then, and your words insincere, for a love to be so quickly discarded as meaningless!"
Kor gasped like a fish out of water. He lost count of how many times Araniel had rendered him utterly speechless this day. The grey-eyed princess continued, "If I love and am loved with the same vigor, I would let nothing part us forever. No grudge is greater, and no duty demands its sacrifice; no gulf is too wide, and no hardship too bitter. Such is the nature of true love, my lord."
"If I know she whom I love loves just as well, then every sacrifice and duty and hardship will be borne together and made lighter," Kor murmured breathlessly, "Do you love me, Araniel?"
"Do you still need to ask, truly?" Araniel husked.
"I have to ask, lady, for I fear longing would deceive my eyes, and I might read your compassionate friendship for something else. Such is the gulf between our places in this world that I must know your heart with every certainty before I dare to ask so great a boon."
"I am no boon nor prize!" Araniel spoke fiercely, "I love you, and I want to be with you."
"Then my lady, will you, may I…" Kor could barely find the words. He took a deep breath, before beginning anew, "Forgive me for stumbling over my words, it is not the way of my people. Now, my lady, will you consent to be my wife?"
"Yes! A thousand times yes!"
Araniel laughed and threw her arms around the Southron prince. Kor was shorter than her, but he was strong and at the prime of his life, and the elation of the moment made him wild with joy. He hoisted Araniel off the grass and twirled her around, laughing like a child. Yet the elation did not last long; both sobered quickly and drew back from their exhilarated embrace. Araniel looked a touch sad, yet ever more determined. She asked Kor, "Do you want me to go to Harad with you?"
"'Tis something we shall determine together, my lady wife," The Southron prince seemed thoughtful and uncertain, and he spoke slowly, "My father and my people need me, and I must go for now. If, if you might be happy even far away from your home and your kin, I would have you become the new Empress of Harad. If you cannot bear to be parted from the White City, I will return to you, I swear it. I have three younger brothers, and there are many capable men at court; the empire will not be short a leader should I decide to make my mark elsewhere in the world."
"Do you not desire the golden throne of Harad? It is yours by right. Will you be happy here in Minas Tirith, away from your people and the glory you could have known?" Araniel asked, almost fearful.
"Will you, Princess of Arnor and Gondor?" Kor returned the question in a gentle voice, "Ai, my love, one of us will have to be away from kin and kith, away from glory and power befitting our births. No matter, that we will decide together."
Araniel smiled and she said, "Perhaps we can be equally distant from home, we can live somewhere in the middle. Father would not mind giving me a fiefdom by the sea near Umbar…" But her voice faltered and died before she could finish, for she had ventured into a quarrelsome topic: every attempt to delineate a border around Umbar in the past thirty years had been in vain.
Kor laughed softly, and he said, "We will have to learn how to discuss these things calmly too."
"I shall not get angry if you will not," Araniel smiled, and then she spoke with determination, "Let me go with you to Harad, my lord. I would like to meet your father and your people."
Kor seemed surprised, "Do you want to?"
"You have met my father and seen my city, I would like to have the same. And how should I decide whether I can be happy as the Queen of Harad if I never see what she is like?"
Kor nodded but his voice was grave, "My position at home can be precarious. I know not how my father and his councilors at court will react to you. With you by my side they might be more convinced that I am enthralled by the northern King, or they might like me a little better for a new emperor, for your father is still remembered with great awe and love, despite everything else."
"I would never want to endanger your position…"
Kor interrupted with a gesture, "Not so hasty; I am not saying you should not come with me, only letting you know of the situation. It is of course very uncertain, but Araniel, I do want you to see Harad; I want to show you every wonder and beauty there. I think your life would be all the richer for it!"
"My life is richer by your side, no matter where I am."
The light in her eyes made Kor laugh. He leaned in close and said in a low voice, "We will be together, love, whether here or in Harad, whether as rulers or as simple fishers by the sea, it matters not, but we will be together. We will see the world together, and nothing will come between us.'In life and death I pledge to thee, to hold thy hand and together go into the night.'"
"'For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health,'"Whispered Araniel, "'Until death and still we would not part'."
That was all the speech they needed, and suddenly every trouble seemed trivial, and the world became a wide expanse of possibilities and adventures, jubilant and bright, free of weighty things. They kissed under the oak tree while snowdrops glistened by their feet.
They did not savor the moment long, for suddenly they heard a familiar voice thundered low, "This is quite enough!"
