AN: Thanks to all who have taken time to review. I spent about 9 months working on this story, and it means a lot to hear your comments. This chapter is one of my favorites; I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter Ten: Love Half Given

November gave way to December, and the north winds from the Ered Nimrais whipped around Mount Mindolliun. The gusts blew through Ecthelion's Tower in great drafts, throwing open windows and doors that were not securely shut. This happened so frequently that when someone knocked at his door, Aragorn did not answer. A second knock pulled him from his work, and he looked up. "Come in."

The door opened slowly and a guard stepped inside. "Your Highness, there are people on the sixth level who are demanding to see you."

Aragorn raised his eyebrows. It was not the time of year when one typically expected travelers. "Who are they?"

The guard shuffled his feet slightly. "They would not give their names, sire, and we did not recognize them."

He considered for a moment. It was possible, he knew, that these strange men were assassins paid to kill him. However, something told him this was not the case. "Tell the gate warden to let them through. I will meet them in the courtyard."

"Yes, Your Highness."

Aragorn waited a minute then he followed. He wondered again at the identity of his guests, but he had his hand on the door before a startling possibility presented itself. Could it be Olwen's family?

His fingers tightened on the brass handle and he wished he could them away without seeing them. She has a home now in Minas Tirith. But he remembered the sadness on her face when she had asked about her family and he knew he could not do that to her. He released a breath and pushed the door open.

Instead of the older couple he had expected, two Elves stood near the fountain, talking with the guards. His jaw dropped and he looked first at one, then the other. After a few minutes, they grinned and Elladan said, "You needn't look so shocked, Estel."

The familiar teasing tone restored Aragorn's voice. "I would not be if you visited more frequently. Indeed, my guards did not even recognize you."

They shrugged and Elrohir said, "'Tis but one of the sacrifices made in a life of wandering. I recall a time when Erestor barely knew us on our return to Imladris."

The three men laughed and then hugged. It had indeed been a long time since the twins had been to Minas Tirith—they had not returned since they had left with their father. "Come, let us get out of the cold. I will call for hot wine and something to ease your hunger after a long journey."

"Ah, I see your manners are finally returning," Elladan jested.

"On second thought Elrohir, why don't we leave this one out in the cold a while longer?"

They were still laughing and teasing each other when they entered the palace. "Do not forget I was there when you learned how to hold a sword," Elladan said with an air of superiority.

The sound of a woman's laughter filled the entrance hall and all three men looked around in surprise. When he realized it was Olwen, shock froze Aragorn to the spot. She mistook his still face for displeasure and sought to school her features into one of apology, though mirth still shone in her eyes. "I am sorry my lord, but it is too amusing to see someone so capable of putting you in your place."

Aragorn's eyes widened. "Do you really think so my lady?" he asked, switching deliberately from Elvish to the Common Tongue.

She smiled freely now. "I do."

"Do you think my so proud then?" he asked in Adûnaic.

"No of course not…" Her voice trailed off when she realized what he was doing. "Did I just… what language were you speaking, my lords?"

Aragorn answered. "Elvish, my lady—the first language any of us remember hearing."

She blanched. He feared for a second that she might pass out, but she quickly hid her shock with a smile. "Greetings, my lords," she said to the twins. "Allow me to introduce myself, since it seems the king will not. I am Lady Olwen." She curtsied so low that her hair brushed the stone floor.

Elrohir sighed dramatically. "Aye, my lady. We were just commenting on how far Aragorn's manners have slipped. I assure you, our father taught him better."

Aragorn rolled his eyes. Can he never be serious? "I beg your pardon, Lady Olwen. These are my brothers, Elladan and Elrohir."

If her smile was strained, no one noticed but Aragorn. "I will leave the three of you to your reunion then." He knew this most recent revelation had unsettled her, so he let her go without protest.

When she was out of earshot, both brothers turned to Aragorn. "What was that all about?"

"Yes, you seemed surprised to learn she could understand our tongue. I thought it was still spoken by many of your nobles."

Aragorn stared at her departing figure. "I will tell you once we have been served. Let us take this conversation to the library."

Ten minutes later when they all held goblets of warm spiced wine, Elrohir asked again. "Tell us about Lady Olwen, Estel. Who is she, and why were you so surprised this afternoon?"

Aragorn took a sip of his wine and let the spices dance on his tongue.. "I cannot answer the first question, no one can. Even the lady herself does not know. Faramir and I found her alone on the mountain two months ago with no memories of her past save her name."

Elrohir raised an eyebrow in a gesture so reminiscent of Elrond that Aragorn was forced to repress a wave of grief. "And you brought her here?"

He set his goblet down and leaned back in his chair. He could hear the unasked question, and he remembered a day only two months earlier when Olwen had stood in almost the exact same spot and asked the same thing—did he consider her a threat to Gondor? "I could not simply leave her there alone with no food or shelter."

Both twins nodded in agreement. "But that does not answer the second question."

He pursed his lips and sought the best way to explain the surprise Olwen had given him that afternoon. "Her memory of learned skills returns… in a rather unusual manner. If I had asked her that first morning if she knew how to ride a horse, she would not have been able to answer me, but when she saw a horse later that day, she mounted with ease and rode as if she had been born in the saddle."

Elladan understood first. "You mean to say she did not even know she spoke our language until this afternoon."

"Precisely."

He whistled low. "I understand your shock then."

"As intriguing as this is," Elrohir interrupted, "what interests me most is the way she teased you, brother. I was glad to see you had someone here in Minas Tirith to keep you in check."

Twin expressions of mischief turned to Aragorn, and he groaned. His brother's comments on the nature of his relationship with Olwen had made him uneasy, for he realized he did not know how to explain what they saw. "Trust me, Elrohir, the responsibilities of being king are enough to keep me humble."

Both twins settled back into their chairs, all hints of teasing gone. "Tell us what has been happening in your kingdom, Aragorn. We have heard bits and pieces of news in our travels, but I know there is always more that the people do not see."

Aragorn sighed. "Reuniting the two halves of my kingdom has proven more difficult than I thought it might be. Some of my nobles are reticent to accept their northern brothers."

Change does not come easily. Will any truly balk when the day comes?"

"I do not believe so, but I weary of the constant infighting. If that was not enough, Faramir pressed me to negotiate treaties with Harad. I will not give quarter to anyone who allied themselves with the Black Tower and the Orcs of Mordor."

His brothers nodded, and Aragorn knew from the set of their jaws that they agreed. "We have tracked and killed the last that fled north of the Misty Mountains," Elladan said.

"And my men have likewise killed as many as they could find. If any remain, they live within the mountains themselves.

The brothers shared a look of grim satisfaction, and then Aragorn caught sight of a clock. "I believe it is time for dinner," he said.

The comment broke the tension that had built with the mention of Orcs. "I was wondering when you would notice," Elladan jibed.

When they arrived, their companions were already in attendance. "I hope we have not kept you waiting long."

"Only a few minutes, my lord," Olwen responded. "The servants have not yet entered."

Aragorn noted with some surprise that his table was full. I have not had this many dinner companions in many months. To his even greater surprise, he enjoyed it.

After they had all filled their plates, Elladan posed a question to Olwen. "Lady Olwen, does he actually make you call him 'my lord'?" He turned to Aragorn with a comically drawn expression of reproach. "Shall I tell her what happened the last time you asked me to call you my lord, little one?"

Aragorn rolled his eyes at the diminutive title his brothers had given him when he was but a lad chasing them around Imladris. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his Steward start and he knew the other man would be surprised by the familiar way his family spoke of him. "Nay, that is not necessary Elrohir."

"It is simply the correct thing to do, Elrohir," Legolas said. "Not that any of us would expect you to understand correct behavior."

They all laughed at that, Elladan the most. "It seems your fine clothes have not fooled anyone, my brother."

Elrohir's scowl soon faded into a smile that made Aragorn extremely wary. "I am still not convinced… Lady Olwen, would you like to hear the story?"

She looked at him, and though he tried to keep his expression inscrutable, her mischievous grin told him he had failed. "I think I would."

Elrohir rubbed his hands together and Aragorn groaned. His brothers had never hesitated to tease him, and with a new audience for their stories, they would be impossible to restrain. Even Faramir leaned forward slightly, eager to hear the tale.

"Aragorn overheard one of our guests call Ada 'my lord' and he informed us the next day that we should also refer to him as such—those were his words, Lady Olwen."

Warmth crept up beneath his collar. "What he leaves out is that I was but six years old at the time."

She laughed merrily, and all embarrassment was forgotten. "And the terror of Imladris I've no doubt," she retorted. He shrugged, neither admitting nor denying guilt, and she laughed again.

"Very true, my lady. I told him that only those who could mount Glorfindel's beast of a horse deserved the title."

Olwen's eyes widened. "And you believed him?"

"It seemed perfectly logical to me, since the only other person I had heard called my lord was Glorfindel himself."

"And he was going to ask Glorfindel, but I told him a true lord never asks anyone for permission. I admit, he had more nerve than I thought. He was trying to saddle that giant of a horse by himself when Ada and Glorfindel walked into the stable together."

Aragorn watched with fascination as humor and sympathy warred in Olwen's expression. Sympathy finally won and she asked, "Did they punish you badly?"

"The worst a six year old boy could imagine," Aragorn said. "They were there to pick out a horse for my birthday present. When they found me, they told me I was not old enough yet and made me wait another six months. I was forbidden to go inside the stable in that time."

"I am sure you found other forms of mischief," Olwen said. Humor flared again and he grinned back at her.

Before anyone could jump in with another story, he turned the tables on his brothers. For the rest of the dinner, the three attempted to out-do the others when it came to telling embarrassing tales. Finally though the evening had to end, and they parted reluctantly.

Minas Tirith seemed more alive with Elladan and Elrohir present. The two were gifted strategists and Aragorn spent many hours discussing the delicate political balance with them. Together with Legolas and Faramir, they rode out to the villages and settlements within the Rammas, seeking the mood and will of the people.

It was the first time in many months that Aragorn had taken time to visit with his people, and he was humbled when he realized as he listened to them that Olwen and Éowyn had been taking better care of their needs then he had. But for the first time since he lost Arwen, he did not feel like he needed to cut the entire world off.

Dinners with the ladies were spirited affairs, and after a few weeks, he wondered how he could possibly have been content to eat in quiet and solitude for so long. It is good to be with people again, he realized.

One evening in early February, Aragorn looked around at his friends after the dinner dishes were cleared and saw that no one was willing to go to bed yet. "Why don't we move to one of the parlors? I believe we could be more comfortable there."

"And perhaps someone could bring us a flagon of that lovely spiced wine?" Olwen suggested.

"I will see to it," Aragorn promised. Faramir led the company down the corridor to one of the private parlors, and Aragorn joined them a few minutes later, wine in hand.

He could hear the laughter before he even opened the door. He entered the room and found Olwen at the center of the group. From the way everyone stifled their merriment when he walked in, he could easily guess who had been the subject of her story. Aragorn poured the wine before speaking, enjoying the guilty expression on her face. "I see you are telling tales again, Lady Olwen."

She arched one eyebrow and he barely managed to hold his expression of disapproval. "I only tell the truth, my lord."

He rolled his eyes and his friends all laughed again. Ever since she had heard Elrohir's story, Olwen had insisted on calling him "my lord" with that same pert expression. "Some kings are given respect by their subjects," he said to no one.

Elladan snorted. "Ah, but at least we two are not your subjects, nor is Legolas yet."

"And I assure you my lord," Faramir said, "I hold you in the highest respect." The utter solemnity with which this was uttered earned more laughter than anything else.

"Yes yes, let us all enjoy the fine Gondorian wine that I procured while you were all laughing at me."

They settled into quiet conversation, and Aragorn sipped his wine and simply enjoyed the moment. Éowyn and Olwen sat in the corner discussing the needs of the people as winter deepened. Each woman alone had a kind heart, but together he had seen that kindness turn to a wave of compassion for Gondor's less fortunate.

Legolas and Faramir continued a conversation they had started earlier on how best to restore Ithilien. Faramir and Éowyn planned to leave for Emyn Arnen in the spring, and they had invited Legolas to join them for a time. Together, they will make those once verdant woodlands thrive once more.

He turned to his brothers and found them look at him expectantly. "Could we have a word in private, Estel?"

Aragorn took a deep breath and let it out slowly. From the tone of their request, he could tell that whatever they wished to discuss was serious in nature. He nodded his acquiescence, and they all made their excuses to the others.

The twins led the way out into the courtyard. Above, the moon shone brightly and Aragorn fixed his gaze there rather than on the White Tree, which seemed to glow under the pale light. "Is there any reason we need to talk in the cold?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he spied Elrohir place a hand on one of the lower branches. "Ada told us of the vision he had regarding this blossom," Elrohir said.

Aragorn fought to keep his expression neutral. "Did he?"

Elladan nodded. "We admit we did not like the thought at first—it was hard for us to accept you would one day marry when Arwen…" He cleared his throat. "But our feelings on the subject have changed in the time we have spent in Minas Tirith."

Aragorn finally looked at the tree, silhouetted in the moonlight. The blossom mocked him, and this mention of Arwen only made him morose. Until you can let go of the past… "I am not sure I understand why."

Elladan and Elrohir looked at each other, and Aragorn recognized the expression of confusion that passed between them. "We refer to Lady Olwen of course," Elrohir said hesitantly. This clarified their statement not a bit, so Aragorn waited and after a minute the twins started speaking as one, tripping over their words.

"We understand that you cannot…"

"We know you must marry to produce an heir…"

"And we are glad to see…"

"…that you are smiling again."

"So we wanted you to know…"

"…that we approve of your choice," Elrohir finished.

A glimmer of their meaning occurred to him, and he narrowed his brows. "Am I to understand that you believe me to have tender feelings for Lady Olwen?"

They both sighed in relief. "Aye. We understand your need to take a bride, and though we are grieved for Arwen…"

"We are happy you have found love again."

This second mention of Arwen threw Aragorn, and it was a moment before he trusted himself to reply and when he did, his voice was frigid. "The only reason I brought Olwen into my house was from a sense of duty. The only reason. Is that clear?" He glared at first one then the other. "While the lady is pleasant enough to be with, my only concern in her life is to help her find her family."

The twins exchanged glances. Aragorn tapped his foot impatiently while he waited for one of them to speak, and finally Elladan said, "Estel, we understand more than anyone how difficult these last three years have been, but as much as we wish Arwen could come back, it will not happen. You cannot close yourself off to happiness—is that not what Ada tried to tell you?"

Anger choked any reply Aragorn might have made. He shot them both a glare that would have killed an Orc at twenty paces and then shoved past them. He stalked through the quite palace, and when he reached his room he slammed the door so hard the hinges rattled.

For several minutes, he could hear nothing but a loud ringing in his ears. Slowly, he became aware of the harsh sound of his breathing and the crackle of wood burning in the fireplace. How could they insinuate… His fingers flexed at his sides, and then with a growl he walked toward the balcony door and tore the curtains open. He threw the door open, barely remembering in time to catch it so the glass would not break.

Out on the balcony he took a deep breath of the cool night air and slowly felt some of his control return. Once his anger diminished he was not surprised to find his strongest emotion was sorrow of a kind he had not allowed himself to feel for three years. "Arwen, why did you leave me?" Tears he had long denied sprang to the surface and for the first time he allowed them to fall, head bowed beneath the weight of his grief.