Sorry this update took longer, I had two university interviews and mock exams which I had to put first :P This chapter and the next were meant to be one, but it turned out so long that they're now split into two - sorry it's not a satisfying ending at the end of this chapter, but the next update will (honestly!) not take as long as this one took since it's nearly all written already. I think there will only be 2 or 3 chapters left after this one, so the end is in sight!
38. The Ship
It was before dawn when Aragorn, carrying Arwen in his arms, had climbed into the carriage which was now taking them down the road to the coast. Arwen had been sleeping for most of the time, and Aragorn had watched her, spellbound, and tongue-tied when she awoke and asked him again where they were going. She seemed to realise his pain but also that he would not be able to bring himself to tell her what he was doing. It was easier for them both when she was asleep.
Aragorn had also watched the sunrise, magnificent with the expanse of clear skies all around. The dramatic pink flourishes reaching out towards him had faded, but simultaneously the sky had intensified from a pale cream into a deep blue, bright and fierce in colour, just like Arwen's eyes. Aragorn bit his lips sharply. He would miss those.
In time they came to the mouth of the Anduin, to the ancient abandoned havens, where along the golden beaches the afternoon sun twinkled on the sand and gleamed where the water licked the shores wet. Standing there already, on a narrow pontoon stretching into the sea, were Legolas and Gimli. They waited by a grey ship built by elves now living in Ithilien. It was in the traditional manner of the Grey Havens, fashioned like a swan, graceful and smooth, with the clear waters gently lapping at its sides. It bore two white sails and the standard which Arwen herself had made for Aragorn during the War of the Ring. The sight of it made Aragorn's heart pound. The last time he had wielded it, he had been fighting for the same thing as he was now.
When the carriage came to rest and the horses were quiet the sound of the gulls first came to their ears. Arwen had been awake for the last hour or so, and had, as if entranced, gazed out of the window, her eyes searching for Aragorn's destination. Now, as Aragorn helped her out with utmost care watching her every move, her eyes lit up in wonder on beholding the legendary white gulls soaring over their heads towards the sea.
"The gulls," she said softly, following their paths with her eyes. After gazing them she turned to Aragorn, who was at her side analysing her anxiously. A smile broke out on her lips. "Their song is beautiful, Estel!" she said, and a tentative laugh was released from within her. Such beauty and musicality was in that small sound which Aragorn had been denied for so long that he could not resist smiling with her. "Are you not happy?" she asked, as if sensing his deliberation.
"Yes," he professed, looking out to the sea where tiny black dots of distant gulls wheeled and dropped above the glimmering water. He was happy if Arwen was healed. By some miracle, they had hardly arrived on the shore and already she was laughing. Aragorn wondered at the power of the gulls over elves.
"Let us go down to Legolas and Gimli," Aragorn suggested nonchalantly and Arwen smiled absent-mindedly, not flinching like she had done recently as Aragorn slid an arm tentatively around her waist and he momentarily nestled his face in her hair to inhale the sweet flowery scent she always carried about her. It never failed to arouse passionate emotions deep within him, and this was no exception. But this time, his soft gasp was due to his grievous knowledge that it may very well be the last time he inhaled her delicious scent.
Aragorn teased back Arwen's hair from around her neck and looked at the sun's glow on her pale skin, culturing back a healthy tone to her flesh. As they walked together, Aragorn accidentally brushed his nose against her ear, the pointed elven tip, and as always a trickling shiver ran through Arwen's body and a soft brief laugh escaped her lips from the tickle. Aragorn smiled and washed his eyes over the faint pink blush on her cheeks and the way she held her head high to inhale the salty air.
There was a fresh coastal breeze which was cool and whipped their hair, but the day was so glorious that neither of them minded. Aragorn felt freer than he had for as far as he could remember, enjoying the wind whistling past and the sight of the azure sky mirrored in Arwen's upturned eyes, which distracted him from the immovable anchor he felt was tying his soul down to the earth. He preferred winter's days like this to hot summer ones; so beautiful and pure, with the bare black trees like brushes on the barren cliffs, and the bright blue sea tossing and glittering under the bright golden sun, low in the sky and throwing its shafts of light onto the two figures on the pontoon. Aragorn shaded his eyes while he led Arwen down the wooden jetty. Before they reached the end, Legolas hurried forward, with Gimli around his knees.
"How are you feeling, Lady Arwen?" Gimli asked most graciously.
She smiled, using muscles which had been forgotten in worry for weeks. The sight was striking with the full glow of the sun on her face. "Well, thank you, Gimli."
"And you, Legolas?" Aragorn asked, knowing how much Legolas had longed to see the sea and hear the gulls again. The elf sighed reflectively and looked around him.
"My heart was uplifted from the earth at the sight of the ocean," he replied, his voice soft and tender. "And the gulls… their call echoes around my head even when they are silent on an off-chance. It touches me deeply and I cannot help but yearn to follow where they go."
"It is so poignant and beautiful a call," Arwen murmured, watching a white gull flying past, singing out. Their voices travelled distinctly through the cold air, despite the wind. Aragorn watched her worriedly, fretted over whether there was any deeper desire behind her words.
"Look!" Legolas cried, and he pointed towards the shore. Together they turned and saw a cluster of horses next to the carriage, and four figures dashing along the beach and up the pontoon towards them.
"Arwen, my lovely sister!" Elrohir joyfully flung his arms around her.
"Are you alright? You are not cold, are you? Are you any better?" Elladan interrogated her, his eyes vexed.
"Yes," Arwen replied, her eyes flicking over to Aragorn. "Someone decided to bring me here, and the sea air is not just clearing my lungs but also my mind… he knows how to reach out to someone blind."
The elves turned to smile at Aragorn and they appraised him for helping her. But Aragorn was more intent on the thanks shining through Arwen's eyes. He kept trying to search her expression, to wonder what answer was beginning to formulate in her mind now that the sea breeze was blowing the strong-rooted tendrils of the Shadow out of her mind.
"Actually," Aragorn heard Elrohir saying, "we wanted a word with Estel… if you don't mind." Aragorn turned to see Faramir and Éowyn also standing with them.
"Not at all," Arwen smiled, embracing Éowyn warmly. "But Legolas, why were you on here, waiting for us?"
Legolas' eyes slipped across to the boat. "I… we were going to take you for a sail… if you wanted," he said, somewhat ineloquently for his usual character, Aragorn noted, but Arwen seemed not to do so. Her cheek appeared lifted.
"Hannon le," she murmured, bowing her head. Then Éowyn helped her into the boat, with Gimli and Faramir close behind. Aragorn found himself left on the pontoon with Legolas and Arwen's two brothers.
"Aragorn, how well is she really?" Elrohir hissed. "The last time we saw her, Arwen seemed to have lost all faith in Middle-Earth. Have you managed to free her from the Shadow?"
Awkwardly Aragorn swallowed and twisted his hands. "Not until today had I even hoped I could accomplish that," he confessed, looking between the grim eyes. "But I fear the price I might have to pay for healing her."
"What…" Elladan glanced over at the boat, and then a flock of gulls caught his eye. "You don't suppose…?" He realised what Aragorn implied and his stunned eyes brought realisation to Elrohir too.
"No, Estel…" he murmured. "She would not leave…"
Aragorn tore his gaze away from the elves. "This is the only way…" he sighed.
Legolas cut in, backing up his friend. "You did not see her these last few days," he said mournfully. "Nothing Aragorn could do would help her come back to the light; she was afraid of him and caught up in a web of thoughts that could only have been conjured upon her by the Shadow of Sauron."
"This is all the Dark Elves' doing?" Elladan breathed, taken both by awe and fear, turning to watch as Arwen sat down on the side of the boat and talked to Éowyn.
"Ai," Legolas sighed. "Estel and I decided this was the only path of hope left to her. Coming here will show her what she wants."
"Indeed; I think she seems to have already seen it," Elladan murmured, glancing round the little group.
"I did not believe it would come to this," Elrohir sighed heavily and laid a hand on Aragorn's shoulder. Aragorn's eyes were so clouded with cold tears that he could not see it properly. "Though I wish her to stay with you, I would have her be happy, and I thank you for doing something which must be so hard for you, Estel," the elf said to him. Aragorn nodded nobly, pinching the corners of his eyes to stem the flow of tears.
"Come…" he heard Elladan call softly, and the two brothers disappeared onto the boat.
There was silence for a few moments, while Aragorn tried to calm himself and slow the wild drumming of his heart that was threatening to knock him into the waves if he presently tried to climb into the boat.
"Estel?" Legolas called to him gently. He looked up at his friend and exhaled slowly, closing his eyes, his face crumpling hopelessly.
"I know…" Legolas soothed and wrapped an arm around him. "You do not want to lose her."
"I would have lost her for sure if I did not bring her here," Aragorn mumbled, plying himself away from the elf.
"But you still have hope," Legolas said, looking directly into Aragorn's eyes. Feeling rather vulnerable in his current state, Aragorn turned away from Legolas' probing stare and looked down at the bobbing waves.
"No, not much," Aragorn said quietly, his voice sad and utterly honest.
"Estel," Legolas said, kneeling at Aragorn's side to untie the rope holding the boat against the pontoon. "You know more than I do how strong her love is for you. That does not count for nothing."
"You know more than I do how strong the call of the sea is for her," Aragorn shot back bitterly. Legolas held silent. "I have never wanted to curse the Valar, but now I do, for all they seem to want is to take her away from me." He glared up at the sun and its shafts stung his tender eyes.
"Never abandon hope, Estel," Legolas said, guiding Aragorn onto the boat. "For right until the last moment, Arwen never stopped hoping. Its power has brought you together this far through wars of many kinds." Aragorn climbed onto the side of the boat, made of slender planks of grey wood, and saw the light feet of Legolas jump across onto the bottom of the hull. "You are Arwen's hope," Legolas reminded him, whispering in his ear so that no one else would hear. "It is you that is saving her, not the sea."
Aragorn frowned. He was so convinced that he would lose Arwen, after so long believing that he would, that he just could not bring himself to understand Legolas' words. He shook his head and sighed.
"No, mellon nín, I don't believe you. Not this time." Passing a hand over his darkened eyes Aragorn left Legolas and wandered over to where the others were clustered in the middle of the boat.
xxxxxx
The wind washed over Arwen's face and streamed through her long hair, rippling it out behind her like the standard bearing the white tree. Her white fingers gripped the side of the boat, with the sea-spray flying onto her face and hands. The sound of the waves rushing by was beginning to merge into a tune, like a song lost far away in a distant memory. No words were distinct, but she realised it was an elven lay, similar to one she had heard her mother centuries ago in Lothlórien. Arwen smiled subconsciously as she let herself slip further into the elves' melody and further into the dream-like world the sea possessed.
Suddenly something cold touched her hand, other than sea-water. Arwen hazily opened her eyes and turned to see Aragorn standing there looking at her worriedly. Immediately the song of the elves vanished, but it took Arwen a little longer to dispel the dreaminess swimming in her head. She tried to compose a sentence, but Aragorn spoke first.
"Are you alright? You don't look well…" He surveyed her distant face and turned over her hand to feel her pulse.
"You doubt yourself too much," Arwen said softly, smiling and relieving her hand from Aragorn's grasp. "I am just waking up - I was listening to the voices of the elves before you came."
Aragorn frowned suspiciously. "Your brothers and Legolas?"
Arwen shook her head. "The elves who are calling from Valinor. Their song echoes through the water and their words are spoken in the wind. They know elves are sailing off the shore of Middle-Earth and they want to bring them home."
"I cannot hear them," Aragorn said brusquely and despite his plan he tried to detract her away from the matter of leaving Middle-Earth. He opened his mouth to say something but Arwen noticed his concealing behaviour.
"Are you alright, Estel?" Arwen asked, stepping down and touching a hand to his cheek. Aragorn glanced up, almost fearfully.
"Yes, of course. We came here for you," he said simply and averted his gaze. Arwen pressed her lips together. Then Aragorn looked up at her directly.
"Have I really healed you?" he asked, doubt clouding his eyes.
Arwen tipped her head to the side pensively. "You are healing me," she replied. She took a deep breath. "But are you sure that you do not need this moment more than me?"
Aragorn's eyes widened. "What do you mean?" he said defensively.
Arwen looked down at the rail and ran her fingers back and forth along the smooth side of the boat. "Just that… you have wounds to be healed, too," she admitted quietly.
"I am fine," he stated.
"But are you?" Arwen looked up and penetrated him keenly. "After all that I have put you through, do you have no pain, no scars left behind?"
Aragorn put up a barrier over his eyes. "That was not the reason we came here, Arwen," he said evasively.
Leaving the side of the boat Arwen drew closer and pressed on. "Are you saying that when I refused to listen to you, to be with you, I did not hurt you? What about when I was dying and falling further and further away from you, did I not break your heart? I cannot believe that I did this, but… it was the only way I thought of to allay the grief I carried, but by drowning my sorrow in the fountain, I could have killed both myself and our child! Do you not care?!"
Tears of hate for herself and frustration pricked Arwen's eyes as her voice grew more and more out of hand. She looked exasperatedly between Aragorn's two eyes, willing him to acknowledge somewhere, somehow, how sinful she had been, how cruel and stupid, and unworthy of his love. She was angered not to see such a response lingering in his eyes.
"It was not your fault," he murmured kindly.
"I hurt you knowing what I was doing!" Arwen exclaimed. "I knew how it would affect you, the one I loved so much, and yet I spurned you with all my effort. I chose to do so."
"You had no other choice," Aragorn corrected her. "It was not you, but the Shadow which had taken over you. I understand what you did. I do not blame you."
Arwen stared at him, stunned and momentarily lost for words. "But – what would you have done if both I and our child had died? If you had lost me; forever? That is an unforgivable crime."
A grimace flashed over his face and aggrieved Aragorn turned away. "I don't know." The wind blew his words away so strongly that Arwen was not sure if she had imagined his reply, so faint. Without showing his face, he tapped his fingers repetitively on the side of the boat, as if he felt compelled to do something and compensate for his lack of words. Arwen noticed the cold edge to his shoulder and tension in his back, in a way that hid himself from her protectively… as if he was hiding something. What was it she had said that meant more now than it had done before?
"I don't know," he said again. This time Arwen detected a crack of pain in his voice. He seemed to realise, too; he snapped his hand back to his body and hurried away from her. In alarm Arwen ran after him and caught his hand.
"Please," she begged, turning him round slowly. In great reluctance Aragorn lifted his eyes up to her. His cheeks were wet from tears. Guilt splayed out from Arwen's core and strangled every part of her being. She was cruel; everything she seemed to do was cruelty to him. "Do not leave me," she said pleadingly. "Not when I want to be with you."
"Do not tease me," Aragorn muttered, but he allowed her to lead him back to the front of the boat. In her thoughts Arwen pondered what he meant, but she had no idea.
"I hate myself," Arwen murmured, and all of a sudden she sagged to the floor under the tremendous weight of regret and pulled Aragorn down with her. As she brought up her knees to her stomach and folded in on herself, Aragorn squeezed her hand and watched her anxiously. A small voice diffused out from under her arm. "I cannot believe what I have done to you. I have been so selfish and cruel."
"No, you are not," Aragorn reassured her, running his thumb over the back of her hand. "I cannot believe how you doubt yourself. You so brave, facing the Shadow and turning away from it, and coming here, so dangerous…" Aragorn's voice trailed off, and Arwen peeked out at him, staring up contemplatively at a gull flying overhead.
"How can you still love me after all that I have done? After all I am? After what I could have done… what could be…?"
As Aragorn's eyes flicked back to her, Arwen hid her face again in darkness. She could not bear to meet his gaze. It was so undeserving, so unrightfully kind, so trusting… too trusting. She could no longer trust herself.
"Nothing has changed, Arwen," he whispered. "I still love you. I will forever."
"You should not," Arwen sighed and she looked up at him forlornly.
Aragorn frowned. "That is a matter of an age-long debate," he said, tucking a lock of hair fondly behind her ear, and smiling as he did so. "But the fact does not change. I will still love you forever. Whatever happens."
xxxxxx
Gimli was puffing and blowing as he wound in the sail, so much that it distracted Aragorn and saved him a few moments from his thoughts. The wind was pleasant, less gusty out here on the water, and quieter. The waves were clamouring past musically, and if they had not been sailing south-west, away from the shore with the wind right behind them, he would have been able to truly see their speed. As it was though, the land was not moving, and it was just in his mind that Aragorn could see how quickly time was running out. How quickly that forsaken moment was coming.
Aragorn shuddered.
"…the smell is simply delicious, don't you think?" Elladan was intent on convincing Faramir with vigorous gestures to the fans of spray showering over the boat. The Steward looked uneasy but afraid to admit his demur. Elrohir began to explain more rationally about the saltiness of the air and its power over elves. Aragorn shook his head and sighed, shimmying away from the shooting range of the waves.
"Are you alright?" Legolas stood above him, looking down with a rebuttal forming on his lips. Aragorn knew he should not be left alone with his thoughts. There was nothing he could change now…
"Just the cold," Aragorn muttered, getting up to rescue Faramir, who was eying the brothers with a faint suspicion of madness in his glance. He pushed past his elf friend, not wanting to talk.
"Oh, hello there, Aragorn," Elladan called to him. "We were just talking about the call of the sea… You understand what it is like, do you not?"
"Yes," Aragorn murmured edgily, sitting down between Faramir and Elrohir to avoid Legolas' attention. "Though I cannot help but wonder, if the sea is so potent, why did you both come?"
That struck down the jovial air. Faramir's moment of relief, to escape from the discussion of the unnerving symptoms of a mentally sea-sick elf, flipped back to unease in an instant.
"We thought we may not have the chance to say farewell to our sister if we did not come now," Elrohir said softly. "If she decided to sail…" He trailed off, the sorrow consuming his words.
"I did not mean to cause you pain," Aragorn apologised, bowing his head. "I admit, I did not think of what this might do to you."
"Do not feel guilty," Elladan refuted Aragorn's qualms. "I understand. You only thought of what was best for Arwen, and I honour you for that. You put her before yourself. That is a hard feat, especially for a mortal."
"But surely it cannot be easy to shirk off the call of the sea?" Faramir protested timidly. After all, the elves had just been detailing the plethora of tributes which the sea held for them.
"No, it is not," Elladan said sadly. "All it needs is to hear the call of a gull, once." He nodded to Legolas, who was following his words with a grim resignation in his eyes. "Then your heart never rests. It is like a drug – one waft of divinity, and then you crave for the true taste. It is impossible to ignore the shower of song which falls around your ears, totally encompassing you, like hands trying to pull you home, pleading like the aching embrace of a mother. The very wind pushes you closer to those white shores which are painted out before your blinded eyes; the spray is just a teaser of the rain-curtain to come. Your bones ache from within, bowing under the weight of this world, willing you – no, begging you – to resign and pass away to the land of everlasting beauty and healing… The kingdom of the elves… Home…"
Elladan's vision faded away or grew too vivid; either way, his words became mislaid. Aragorn squirmed, now rebuking himself for choosing such an unwise seat, squashed tightly between Elrohir and Faramir. Sweat was trickling down his brow, icy with the wind blowing relentlessly on his pallid skin, and he shivered feverishly. He felt wholly penitent now, seeing the view of Arwen's life – how it could have been, how it should have been – carefully constructed before his eyes, then strewn apart by his raging heart.
"But… surely you can ignore it?" Aragorn proposed weakly.
Beside him Elrohir sighed heavily. "It will take all our strength to resist now. Years may cloud the memory, but still, in the torrent of the heart, we know where we shall truly rest."
"I don't think I shall be able to refuse, Aragorn." A small, apologetic voice reached down to Aragorn's ears and he looked up to see Legolas' abashed face. "Not now. It is too strong. I can wait – but not forever." He held Aragorn's eyes, knowing the translation that was going on inside Aragorn's head. "I am sorry," he whispered.
"Yes; right…" Aragorn coughed, feeling the raw scratching of saltiness in the back of his throat. It was what he had known all along, deep down in his heart. He had just made himself believe that there was another way; that this could be a way to save, not to lose. What a mistake. Also, at the moment, Arwen was weak. Even if the call of the sea could be resisted, it would take much strength. Strength which even Legolas, an elven prince and warrior, confessed to not possess.
"Look, Aragorn," Faramir patted him on the shoulder and gave him a comforting smile. "We are here with you all the way. You are not the baddie who deserves the rotten end of fate. We will do our best to help you, too."
Aragorn smiled weakly at the honest and reassuring faces which met his eyes all around. "Thanks," he muttered. "But it does feel like the finger of fate is pointing at me right now."
To his surprise, suddenly Gimli broke into a guffawing laugh. "You talk like that's a bad thing, lad!" His eyes crinkled eyes opened up for a minute, revealing a bright light in those dark beads. "Has it not occurred to you that fate is pointing at you for a reason? To show somebody else where to go?"
Aragorn thought about that for a moment, quite dumbfounded. By chance he glimpsed Legolas with a crooked smile on his face. Aragorn was not quite so sure about the truth in Gimli's witticism. Life didn't seem so humorous after the last few weeks. Unless it was dark humour. He had borne enough of that to last eternity in the Halls of Mandos.
Aragorn pushed himself up from the seat. "Perhaps I will go and see…" He made towards the side of the boat, to find Arwen.
"She's at the front, with Éowyn," Faramir said softly. Aragorn paused.
"Perhaps I will wait," Aragorn changed his mind.
"Good idea," Faramir approved. "I know we voice our disapproval frequently, but when women talk together it does seem to work miracles."
A soft chorus of laughter filtered through the air around Aragorn's ears and mingled pleasantly with the whispers of the waves and flutters of the sails.
"A miracle," he agreed, smiling wistfully. Yes, one needed to come soon.