46 – A LONG TIME COMING

It was Elrond who pushed her chair out of the gardens and through the city. She wanted to shout at him, tell him to hurry up, to match the galloping pace of her heartbeat. She wanted him to find a horse and put her on it so that she could gallop wildly out of the city to the encampment. But she remained quiet, clenching and unclenching her hands.

"You are afraid," Elrond said as they walked. "Why?"

She huffed out a breath, trying to expel some of her nerves with it. "I suppose I am afraid," she admitted. "And I suppose it is because this is my one chance to be happy, truly happy. This is everything I ever wanted, to be able to serve my people and to be with him at the same time."

"Then you should be filled with joy, not anxiety."

"But what if I make a mistake?" she lamented. "I know it's silly, but... what if I say something wrong and spoil it all?" She shook her head and twisted in her chair. "Maybe we should go back. I think we should go back. Could you turn around please?"

Elrond simply lifted an unimpressed eyebrow. "I had hoped this childishness had come to an end by now," he said.

Tíniel blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You're so afraid of not doing your duty that you continually go out of your way to avoid being happy."

She opened and closed her mouth like a fish. "That's not true!"

"Yes, it is."

"It isn't! Why on earth would I do something like that?"

"Because your whole life you've been trying to live up to a perfect image of what you should be like, and somehow you've convinced yourself that you have to be miserable to do so."

She couldn't find any words to reply, and the Elf almost smirked. Almost. "Stop digging up excuses to avoid this," he said with the authority of someone who was absolutely accustomed to his orders being carried out.

Still, Tíniel wasn't sure how to reply. Was he right? She had been avoiding Aragorn, and the whole matter of her feelings for him, for days now. She thought back to Rohan, and her frown deepened. Alright, maybe weeks. But then she remembered Lothlórien and the Anduin, and sighed heavily. Months, then. She'd been running from Aragorn, and potential happiness, for months.

"And it took me two Elves and two wizards to figure it out," she muttered. Elrond caught the words and smiled. "By the stars, I'm dense."

"Not all the time. We just gave you the final push you needed."

Despite her realisation, the nervousness didn't abate. Her stomach squirmed, and she clenched her hands in her lap. "My father would call me a coward if he were here."

"And my father would say you are only a coward if you let your fear stop you from doing what you know you need to do," Elrond said. "He was a strong believer in keeping his promises, and never running from what must be. And so am I."

"Who was your father?" she said distractedly, gracelessly changing the subject so that she didn't have to discuss what she was about to do. "Is he still alive? Has he gone West?"

"I had two fathers," Elrond said. "The first, Eärendil, left when I was very young. I see him in the sky every night."

"Right," Tíniel said, frowning a little. She always seemed to forget how bizarre Elves were, but they never failed to find ways to remind her. "And the other?"

"My second father adopted and raised me, just as I adopted and raised Aragorn. It was he who taught me most of what I know."

"Where is he now?" she asked as they passed through the gate to the third circle.

"Dead, most likely," Elrond replied. She couldn't for the life of her read the emotion in his voice. "He disappeared from the earth many ages past."

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Don't be. He was a good father to me, as I hope I was to my own children." He paused. "And as I know Estel will be to yours."

She groaned and put her head in her hands, a wave of nerve-induced nausea sweeping over her. "I think I am going to be sick."

The chair rattled to a halt and Elrond came around and knelt before her. He took her hands in his.

"This will be the least of all your great deeds," he said. "Aragorn is not an orc, or a Witch-king. He is a Man. Do you trust him?"

"Of course," she said firmly, the fluttering in her stomach subsiding a little.

"Then trust him!" Elrond said simply, and he stood and began pushing the chair again.

"You know," she said thoughtfully, "that may be the most straightforward thing you've ever said to me."

She felt the Elf smile. "We'll be there soon," he said. "Tell me about your own father."

Their conversation made the rest of the distance to the gate pass in what felt like seconds. Tíniel's heart began to beat quickly again as they trundled across the flattened grass toward the encampment. Grey-cloaked rangers who were standing on guard bowed to Tíniel and Elrond as they passed. She recognised some of their faces, and she wished she knew their names so that she could strike up a conversation and delay the inevitable.

But Elrond whisked her through to the clearing. It was empty save for two rangers sitting and smoking by the smouldering fire. They looked up curiously at the new arrivals, and got to their feet when they recognised them, setting aside their pipes almost guiltily.

"I see Estel has spread his dirty habits further than I thought," Elrond muttered, just loud enough for her to hear. She gave a half-smile, but sobered quickly.

"Have you seen Aragorn?" Tíniel asked the two rangers, her voice higher pitched than usual. One of them nodded.

"He is holding council in his tent. It's the biggest one, just over that way."

"Shall we wait for him to finish?" Elrond asked her, his voice laden with amusement.

"I don't think so," she said, trying to sound sure. He pushed her over towards the tent until they were just a few feet away.

"Stop here, please," she said. He did so, and with an effort she used her arms to push herself out of the chair. Elrond stepped forward and offered his arm. She took it gratefully and, leaning on him heavily, she took two short, unsteady steps forward.

"I am sorry, lady," the ranger guarding the door of the tent said. "The Lord Aragorn has asked not to be disturbed. I cannot allow you entry."

"It is quite urgent," she said, suddenly filled with the ridiculous impulse to laugh. "I can't imagine he'd be too pleased if you turned him away, considering what I have to say."

"I am sorry, lady," he said firmly. "I have my orders."

"Who is within?" she asked.

"Lady, I apologise, but the Lord Aragorn is not to be disturbed."

She could scarcely believe that she had denied her heart through Lothlórien and Amon Hen, through Helm's Deep and the Pelennor Fields, to be foiled at the last step by a guard.

"I am an honorary member of the Fellowship of the Ring," she tried hopefully.

"My lady…"

"By the stars, man, I'd fight you if I could. And I'd win."

A shadow of alarm crossed his face, and his hand drifted towards his sword. "It is nothing against you, Lady Tíniel, Lord Elrond, but I have orders –"

"Let me in," she said, letting authority creep into her voice. "The future of the world is in the balance."

The guard hesitated and looked to Elrond, who nodded gravely. "She speaks truly."

With that, the guard reluctantly stepped aside. Tíniel breathed a sigh of relief, but just as quickly, her nerves returned, twice as bad as they had been before. The guard lifted the flap, and she and Elrond entered the tent together.

Tíniel breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that it was only the Fellowship inside, sitting comfortably on chairs that had been arranged in a circle.

"Thank the stars," she said. "It's just you."

"Lord Elrond, Tíniel," Gimli frowned. "How did you get in?"

"My exceptional good looks," she quipped, but the joke couldn't hide the trembling in her voice. "I may have also threatened the guard." Suddenly she felt very much like turning around and running away.

"You're walking!" Pippin exclaimed. "Do you do that all the time now?"

"Not all the time, no."

"Why have you come?" Legolas asked. His eyes bored into her, and she knew that he could tell something strange was happening.

"Does she need a reason to come spend time with us?" Merry cried. "Is it a crime to want to pass time in our splendid company?"

"It's a crime to seek out your company, Merry," Sam said, skilfully ducking the clout that followed thereafter. Tíniel shifted, her grip tightening on Elrond's arm as her anxiety tripled.

"Well, it's good to see you, at any rate!" Gimli said, getting up and offering her a flagon of ale that he'd clearly been drinking from. She shook her head in refusal.

"You look sort of sickly, Tíniel," Frodo said. "Is everything alright? Do you need to sit down?"

"Have my seat!" Pippin said, jumping up and knocking the chair over in the process.

"Why have you come?" Legolas asked again, this time more urgently, getting to his feet as well and approaching her. "Tíniel, what happened?"

"If you would give me a moment to talk, I'll say so!" she said crossly, and silence fell.

Aragorn, the only one who'd been quiet before, got to his feet and slowly walked around to stand directly before her. He looked down at her, frowning slightly, and saw straight through any frail pretence of calm that she'd put up.

"What's wrong?" he asked quietly.

Tíniel took a deep breath. This is it, she thought. "Things have changed," she began.

His frown deepened. "What things? Tíniel, what happened?"

"Well, rather, nothing has changed, but the way I see things has changed…"

He shook his head, mystified. "What are you talking about? Did something happen in the City?"

"No," she said miserably, and glanced up at Elrond. "I'm making an awful mess of this."

"Just let her say her piece," Elrond said to Aragorn. Tíniel tightened her grip on his arm yet again, the pain of standing for so long beginning to set in.

"Aragorn," she said, the words all coming in a rush. "I know we discussed this before and we didn't really see eye to eye, but like I said, some light has been shed on some things that I didn't understand before and now – well, I was wondering… if you…" she swallowed thickly, a wave of terror crashing over her. This was it.

"Wondering if I what?" Aragorn asked, his eyes narrowing.

Her voice was barely more than a whisper. "If you... well, I wanted to know if... if there was a chance..."

"A chance of what?" he asked in near exasperation. His expression was torn between annoyance and worry.

"Aragorn," she blurted out. "Will you marry me?"

His jaw dropped. "What?"

"Will you marry me?" she asked, her voice gaining strength as she said it again.

"Now just a moment," Sam said, his eyes round. "Just a few days ago, you said –"

"I know what I said," she cut him off. "I know, but I was stupid and wrong."

She looked at Aragorn, desperately willing him to say something, but he was simply staring at her, slack-jawed. Her heart thundered in her ears.

"But all the things you said before," Merry said slowly. "I mean, you made quite a convincing case for why you shouldn't marry him..."

"What about your tribe?" Legolas said, wonderstruck.

"My brother can look after them," she said, her eyes still trained on the man before her.

"And the people of Gondor?" Gimli put in. "You don't think they'll mind a Khandi queen? You don't think they'll revolt and rebel and all that?"

"They'll have to deal with it, I suppose," she said. Her voice turned pleading. "Unless... that is, if… Aragorn, would you say something please?"

He blinked twice. "Um," he said.

"Maybe something more?" she suggested, her eyes searching his. Emotion after turbulent emotion flickered through them.

"You… you want to marry me," he said at last, as though he couldn't properly believe it.

"Yes," she said. "Yes, that's right."

"You've changed your mind about everything you said before?"

"Yes."

"You would leave your people to live in Gondor with me?"

"Yes."

"Despite what people think? Despite all that you thought before?"

"Yes, Aragorn!"

"Then... yes."

She blinked. "What?"

"Yes!" he said, beginning to laugh. "Yes, I will marry you! Yes!"

The tent erupted with cheers and whoops, and before Tíniel knew it, Elrond had handed her over to Aragorn. She practically fell into him, and he embraced her. She held him more tightly than she'd held anything before, laughing uncontrollably with relief and sudden, bubbling, unrestrainable joy. She thought her legs might have collapsed, but it didn't matter, because he was holding her up.

"Guard!" Aragorn called. She looked up at him. He was smiling more widely than she'd ever seen him smile before, and she felt warmth blossom in her chest.

"Aragorn?" the guard said in alarm, putting his head into the tent. "Is all well? Should I have let her in?"

"Send a message to the Steward of Gondor," Aragorn said. "Tell him that in a few days' time, there will be a wedding as well as a coronation."

And then – finally – he kissed her.

My goodness, I'm a sucker for a happy ending...

Yours as always!

S