Yes, yes, the second installment. I was away this weekend for the holiday, though worked on this when I had the chance. I thank you for the reviews, and I hope this chapter garners as much appreciation, if not more.
Again, this is a WIP.
There was nothing King Elessar would rather do less than discuss and negotiate the trade routes forming in the south. Alas, however, he was King.
It had been three years since the coronation. The lands of the south had since then been made anew, surrounding villages uniting to form a solid union. Calahn, Aragorn's primary aide, hailed from this newly-formed colony.
Aragorn ceased in his musings when his boot made contact with the stark marble flooring of the foyer. Before him stood a group of six immaculately dressed, leather-skinned individuals; all of them regal yet harboring undertones of weariness. One could almost glimpse the trails left by sweat upon their brow if studied closely.
For a moment no one spoke, the king's footsteps echoing in the white room. He swung his arm out along the group in friendly gesture, words touched with warmth.
"My friends, please. If you will but follow me and we will be underway." He motioned toward the archway on their left.
The room beyond the vestibule was engaging, to say the least. Upon each wall hung tapestry from separate provinces, each unique to their homelands. There was stoneware in every corner, each filled with flora of separate natures.
Once the group had surrounded the round table, Aragorn took his place before the miniature throne set for him, Calahn positioned close by. The men announced their names and standings respectively, each settling into the plush padding of the seating offered for them. The first and perhaps largest man folded his hands, crooking his neck some to glance at the king. His voice demanded respect.
"My lord, our crops have flourished this season. Our quarters have been rebuilt. We stand strong as one, and we are only just in the making. We have established means of bringing water to our people from the river. My lord, I and these good comrades from our neighboring villages propose a means of trade be made underway."
The king nodded appreciatively, course fingers scratching at his cheek lightly before responding.
"An alliance would indeed bring good fortune to your people, as well as a variety to those in this White City. I embrace this proposal, and accept it. I will journey with you to your lands in two days time with treaty and bounty. If I am to form this alliance, I wish to befriend its people."
The men of the table celebrated, clapping and nodding enthusiastically. The larger man stood, hand to his heart.
"My lord, you will not regret this."
And with that, further negotiations were made. It took what seemed like hours, at least that is how the queen felt. For out in the courtyard she sat, wind caressing her cheek as the sun kissed her ivory flesh. Beside her sat Delorah, the fiery haired chambermaid. The small woman mused over the clouds in the distance, her voice strained. Arwen smiled softly, nodding.
"Lo, I fear a storm is in the make." Delorah pursed her lips, pasty fingers absently brushing a stray hair from her eye.
"Do you think?" Her voice cracked some.
"I do believe so." The milky tone of the queen faded some as she stood, strolling along the cobblestone toward the white tree. She raised a hand, fingertip brushing along the petal of a new blossom.
The sound of distant hoof beats caught her attention, and soon she found herself peering over the stone rail far as she could. She could make out a single man on horseback, the steed decorated in royal colors. A smile graced her lips.
"Ah, the post. Perhaps news from Rohan to brighten my spirits." She awaited him patiently, watching him fade and reappear in her sights as he made his way up the city levels.
Delorah stood, lightly pushing the maiden toward the bench.
"You rest yourself, m'lady. You let me fetch that." Before the queen could interject, the woman was halfway across the courtyard. The herald had reached the garden by that time, dismounted and standing at attention. Cradled in one arm was a parcel, one that likely contained a collection of parchments and scrolls. Delorah curtsied respectively, taking hand of the correspondence.
The queen watched as the woman fumbled with the bundle, shuffling toward her. She stood, though sat once more when a scolding look came from beneath blazing bangs.
"There ought to be a month's worth of letters here, I'd say. Well wishes, I'd assume. Here, here." She carefully handed the letters over, settling down beside her mistress.
Arwen smiled, sifting through the parchment and scrolls. She unfurled one, scanning it over.
"Ah, yes. Lord Eomer sends regards." She smiled, replacing the letter to read again when she could better focus. After a few moments of sorting she paused, raising a particular letter to her nose. Nostrils flared as a rosy scent permeated the air.
Curiously, the queen ran a gentle finger beneath the envelope's fold, cracking the unfamiliar wax seal. Dried crimson petals fell forth as she removed the wrinkled letter from within, which she then smoothed as best she could without disturbing the intricate handwriting.
Her eyes scrutinized as they ran along what secrets the letter may have held, brows furrowing.
"It seems a love letter. There is no signature." She held it out for her companion to examine, who elicited the same curious response.
"Perhaps simply an admirer. For whom is it addressed?" She nosily probed the script.
"It does not say. No matter, for you are most likely correct in your assumption. Nevertheless, I will show it to Aragorn."
Formalities meant little between the queen and her mistress. Few people would hear the rightful names of their majesties from the lips of anyone not associated personally with them, let alone be able to speak them. Delorah felt a privileged in this sense. Her reflections were shattered abruptly when a sweep of silk brushed over her slippered foot, and she realized the queen had left their comfortable silence. Hurriedly she followed, muttering along the way.
The queen ambled through the open gateway, nodding to the guards as they saluted her. Her steps were light as she glided along the foyer to the royal stairwell, lifting the folds of her gown some as she began her ascent.
"Is the king still in conference?" The thin voice echoed in the spiral stairs, bouncing from wall to wall. The small woman pursed her lips as her own words were thrown back at her.
"Yes, and I fear it may be some time yet." She paused as they reached the landing, feet planted on plush carpeting.
"Perhaps mistress should rest, then?" Another echo, another pucker of the lips.
"Nonsense, Delorah. I am not yet so fragile that I must be weary." And with that, the elf sauntered down the halls to her chambers to await her king.
And wait she did, as it was not until nightfall that an exhausted Elessar stepped forth from the rowdy negotiations. The delegates had been shown to quarters, and were now tended to by the various aides of the palace. Aragorn had seen to it that arrangements be made for he and the men to travel south in three days time.
As his hand met the cool iron latch of the chamber door he smiled, hoping to see his queen on the other side. Taking no time to compose himself he pushed his way into the room.
There Arwen laid, her position at the edge of the bed suggesting that she had not meant to slip into this soft state of slumber. Her head was propped by the edge of her hand some, a wrinkled bit of parchment clutched beneath her. Aragorn strolled over to her side, kneeling before her to stroke her cheek. With a start the queen awoke, inhaling heavily.
"Aragorn! You startled me. How went the proceedings?" She supported herself on her elbows, a tired smile blossoming on her lips. Aragorn rocked back on his heels, gripping the edge of the bed.
"They went well, my love. Very well. I am to travel to Alhír in three days time to finalize the alliance." He eyed the parchment, though presumed she would speak of it when ready.
"There is to be an alliance? That is fantastic news. This city needs some color." She smiled once more, shifting into her elfin tongue. The king ran his hand along her curvaceous body, ceasing at the tip of her hand. The queen curled her fingers, wrinkling the paper. A small gasp escaped her lips as she unfurled them, smoothing the letter.
"Darling, this came today with the post. It was not marked, stuffed in with another parcel. What do you make of it?"
The king analyzed said letter, eyes glancing over each word. He pursed his lips, reading the first portion over once more.
"It sounds as if to speak of the war. Perhaps someone struggles to move on. Though the later half is lost to me. I will hold onto this, however, and keep my eyes peeled for anything further."
Seemingly satisfied, the queen laid her head back down.
"Now tell me all about this trip you are planning."
'My darling, I pray you received my letter, and are heartened to know I think after you. It took everything in my power to assure that it would reach you. I dreamt this past eve of a full moon amongst a sea of stars, shining so bright. It reminded me of you. You shine in the darkest hours, this I know.
Though right now you may feel trapped in your duties, forced to mold for yourself a family in royal colors, do not be sorrowed. For my time has almost come to show you that we can be together. We can seek the happiness I know you so yearn for.
It will be so. No matter what stands in our way.'
There you have it, chapter 2 of this continuing story. I hope you enjoyed and will continue to read as I continue to post.