Chapter 32:
A Long Awaited Conversation
Author's note: Whew! It's taken a lot out of me to try and finish this section of the story. We're almost a third of the way through. A third! It feels like there's no end in sight, but I know there will be. As an announcement regarding this story, I will be going on a hiatus once I'm officially done with this third of the story. It won't be for long. Just a month or two to give me time to gather my thoughts and work on a few other projects. Promise! ;)
Enjoy!
January 18th - Late Morning - Caras Galadhon - Lothlorien
Aragorn woke at mid-morning from a long, dreamless sleep. He stared at the pavilion canopy draped above his head and felt again the weight of his numerous responsibilities settled on his heart. Frodo and the ring were his first priority and would remain to be as long as he drew breath. Brianna's pending quest to Mordor only added to that weight; especially considering the circumstance of her safety in the land. A part of him had suspected their enemies were aware of her presence in Arda to a certain extent.
In truth, Aragorn didn't know what to make of the matter. He had always intended to marry her if such a union was possible. Traditions, both elvish and Numenorian, would have been followed and a bride-price paid all before the marriage ceremony. He'd already taken more liberties with their intimacy than was appropriate, though Aragorn suspected that such liberties were expected by the women of earth. A quick engagement based on his and Brianna's inability to stop towing the line of propriety was, logically, better and he wouldn't argue with that reasoning.
He clenched his jaw as a wave of bitterness washed over him. It wasn't bitterness towards her love, nor was it bitterness towards the prospect of marrying and sharing a very long life with her. He'd wanted time to court Brianna and bring her to the point where she trusted him implicitly and could respect him in all things. While Aragorn knew she trusted and respected him to a certain extent, he still saw the shadow of the cold, wrathful creature he and the hobbits met in the wild. There was no doubt in his mind that she'd changed. Arda's magic was apt to change the wielder by forcing them to explore and come to terms with their emotions and past grievances and traumas. That change had begun long before she'd left for Lorien, but the Brianna who met him at Cerin Amroth was a softer person than the one who left him in the forest a day's ride from Imladris. Despite this, he could tell that there was much for them to work through and he worried such a thing would be made more difficult with a speedy marriage.
In truth, he wanted to do all of this in peacetime after the terrible war was won. This quick ceremony made it seem as though liberties were taken further than they should have been and that his bride-to-be was already with child. Despite this not being the case, it would certainly look like it in the eyes of everyone else. Could he put her through that public censure? Brianna was practical. She likely knew what this would look like and was fully prepared to meet the social consequences. She was also a shrewd politician and had a way about her that could both ingratiate herself to the public and exude authority. Her wit seemed carelessly applied on first glance, but the more time he spent with her the more he'd realized that she applied it in ways that would mostly lead to her benefit. There was no doubt that she had a temper, but years of training and working in the shadows had turned that temper into a weapon.
She will be fine, I suspect, he thought.
In truth, any issues he had with making the union now revolved around the true reason for hastening the engagement. Something terrible would happen to her if they didn't. Aragorn didn't understand what it was she and the other elf women were trying to tell him and the company. Could such a curse exist? Was her marrying him the only path to her salvation. The red-haired elf made it seem so.
Aragorn was startled from his thoughts by the light pressure of fingers brushing his shoulder. He looked to see Legolas leaning over him, smiling.
"My little niece is here to speak with you," Legolas said softly.
Aragorn grunted and pushed himself out of his prone position to bury his head in his hand. He had a quick bath the night before and new clothes courtesy of the Lord and Lady lay folded in a basket near his pallet. Better bedding would soon follow as well as more privacy once the elves had a moment to finish setting up a more comfortable pavilion.
"Thank you, Legolas. Tell her I will be out soon," Aragorn said.
Legolas didn't move and, instead, placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and said, "All will be as it should, my friend."
Aragorn only nodded as Legolas slipped out of the tent and left Aragorn to don the cleaner clothes provided by the Lord and Lady.
Arwen Undomiel was a picture of elven radiance. Brianna always thought so whenever she beheld the elder elf maid and that same thought entered her this moment as her friend approached her. Arwen was alone, clad in a simple sleeveless dress of silver-white, with her dark hair flowing freely down her back and to her knees in soft waves. She glided like the wind and barely touched the soft earth she tread. Brianna smiled and clasped the taller elf's slim hands in greeting.
"I see the Fellowship have arrived as my grandmother predicted," Arwen remarked after sufficient greetings were exchanged.
Brianna smiled and replied, "Yes, they have; however they're weary from their trek and were further troubled by the little bit I told them of my quest as it currently stands."
Her friend's grey eyes dimmed, troubled by the reminder.
"Even so, I suspect you are happy to see them. I've heard told amongst my kindred here, that Legolas is your uncle," Arwen said.
"That is true," Brianna replied primly. "He's an unexpected family member I hadn't anticipated meeting."
A brief lull in the conversation settled between them. Arwen looked away and up into the golden canopy above. Rays of sunlight glimmered through the leaves and danced along the strands of her hair. Unlike Lady Galadriel, Arwen's hair and skin didn't absorb the sunlight and create an ethereal halo. Instead, the light reflected off each strand like it was water drifting gently along a lazy current.
"Does Estel know of your... plight?" She asked.
"Some of it. I am waiting for him to ready himself so we may go to a more private location to speak further on the matter," Brianna replied haltingly.
She frowned, feeling overwhelmed by the enormity of the pending conversation. The memory of Aragorn's frustration the night before was burned in her mind. Worry and a sense of foreboding ate at her and it took everything in her power to keep herself from pacing. What if he became angry, or resentful of such a quick marriage? What if the supposed failsafe didn't work? What if, at the end of it all, they failed?
A hand on her shoulder startled her from such thoughts. Brianna looked at Arwen who stared at her with a sad expression in her eyes.
"If I may, can I offer some advice?" She asked.
Brianna nodded wordlessly. Arwen removed her hand and clasped both of them in front of her.
"Don't break him," she whispered.
Stunned, Brianna gaped wordlessly at her. For days people had been giving her unsolicited advice about dealing with her emotions and insecurities. No one had even thought to think of the man involved. No one except the one who spurned him decades ago.
"You may think he doesn't wish for this, but let me assure you that he does. I've seen him love once before and I see him do so, now. I know you love him. I see it in your eyes, but I can also see fear. Don't fear. The more you do, the more liable you are to break him and do not think such a thing is beyond your power. It isn't. Remember it," she warned.
Brianna remembered the vision she'd seen in Galadriel's mirror. The image of Aragorn's hand on her cheek and the expression on his brow indicating they were having a serious conversation. She remembered watching her apparition step away from him, shaking her braided head, and turning away before anything else could be said. The expression of complete and total devastation in Aragorn's eyes had broken her heart.
Don't break him.
"I don't want to," she confessed in a voice smaller than she meant. "I bring him joy, not sorrow. I fear my situation will only add to his burdens."
Arwen smiled and said, "It will be a burden, but it is one he will gladly bare."
Brianna was saved from further conversation by the emergence of the very man they spoke about. Aragorn stepped out into the late morning sun looking like he's slept for many hours and taken a moment to wash away the dirt and grime of their journey. With hair no longer matted, skin cleaned and beard trimmed, the man looked less of the wild and more of a king with his tall stature and the general atmosphere of command. Even so, his brow was still creased and his shoulders remained stiff. Heat rushed through her all the same and it took her a minute to realize that the feeling was much deeper than lust. On the surface, adoration didn't seem like it would run deeply. She'd been wrong.
His eyes settled on Brianna and Arwen and Aragorn bowed his head to the older elf maid in respect. Arwen smiled and laid a gentle hand on his elbow and greeted him in the dialect of elvish Brianna figured she was most familiar with. Aragorn responded easily. With that exchange, Arwen bid Brianna farewell and stepped away into the trees likely in search of Glorfindel. Brianna turned to Aragorn and was met with a soft smile playing on his lips. He greeted her in elvish using different words that Brianna barely understood and a tone that was much gentler than earlier.
A smile of her own answered his and she said, "Good morning, Aragorn. Unfortunately, I'm still relatively unlearned in the ardanian languages my people use here, so I'm at a loss as to what you said."
Aragorn chuckled and grasped her hands into his much larger ones. As before, a shudder of delight shimmied up her spine at the feel of his calluses and warmth.
"I merely greeted you, my dear," he said affectionately.
"Merely?" She asked, teasingly.
The man's smile broadened and left Brianna wordless and starstruck. A moment later, she remembered herself and why she had wanted to meet with him that morning. All levity left her and she maintained his gaze to let him know of it. Aragorn grew more serious and he inclined his head to indicate he was ready for her.
"Let's go somewhere a bit more private. The least the general population knows the better," she said.
Brianna moved and Aragorn followed wordlessly with their hands still entwined.
Aragorn felt her uncertainty strum threw her grip on his hands. They weaved through the forest floor and passed the occasional wandering elf. He greeted a few who he'd known from his previous visit and introduced Brianna to some who approached him, but hadn't the chance to properly meet her. They left the borders of Caras Galadhon and meandered onto a small path to the right of the city gates. They slipped through the tall, beautiful trees and climbed over and under particularly high roots. Sounds of a stream tumbling over the earth met his ears and the stepped onto the banks of the Nimrodel a moment later. They stopped and Brianna turned to him, uncertainty in her eyes.
"I think it would be better for me to show you what I saw and what the professor and lady showed me later," she said.
He nodded wordlessly. She stepped closer to him.
"May I... may I enter your mind and show you?" She asked.
This surprised Aragorn. He hadn't known she could do what Lady Galadriel could, though he supposed he should have guessed it.
"You may," he said after pause.
She swallowed and grasped both of his hands in hers once more, "Look at my eyes and don't break my gaze. No matter what you see keeping looking. If you don't I might accidentally hurt you."
"Show me," he all but begged.
And Brianna did.
The world around them faded away and the visions Brianna saw in the mirror played in his mind coupled with others he felt were unfamiliar to her eyes. He saw her first rejection of his love and then another in the very spot they were in that morning where he implored her once again. Her expression was hard, though her eyes glimmered in pain all the same. In another, he watched her collapse to the ground at Isengard holding her bared shoulder. Black veins pulsed along her heart and the light left her eyes. A tall, pale elf stood over her with coal black hair and red eyes. The scene changed as the male elf gripped Brianna's remaining bodice with his hands and ripped it open.
Subconsciously, Aragorn gripped Brianna's shoulders. Bile rose in his throat at the sight and he fought down the urge to bend over and empty the contents of his stomach.
A new scene revealed itself. Brianna road on a pale white horse nestled in front of that same knight elf. They road through what Aragorn knew to be Ithilien. Her teal eyes stared vacantly before her and the light of her soul barely lingered in their depths. A group of men accosted them and the elf bent to whisper in her ear. A second later, she raised her hand and the earth met her mechanical call. The men were slaughtered by their own trees. The scene changed again to find Brianna naked and being taken from behind by a different elf. This one had blond hair and yellow-grey eyes. A cruel smile curled across his lips. Brianna's eyes were dead and only a walking corpse of an elf remained.
A cry escaped him, but he stood his ground and allowed her to continue to reveal the gravity of her situation.
He saw her forced to murder. He saw her great with a fell child of that same blond elf. He saw the barest spark of her self-hood become extinguished as her masters compelled her to burn him, stab him, or drown him. There were many paths to his death and many ways she could be captured and violated and beaten. Then, worst of all, was the image of Sauron taunting the living corpse of his love as the bodies of the two other knight elves cooled at their feet.
Then, as if a glimmer of hope was to be revealed to him, a scene of them in a white room entered his consciousness. Her bronze hair flowed freely down her back and a white loose shift of silk covered her body. Aragorn, dressed in a mere undershirt, stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her to cup her stomach which was very great with child. Peaceful smiles graced their lips and her eyes - her living, burning eyes - glowed with a light he'd never seen from her.
The vision faded and Brianna as she was in that moment remained. Tracks of tears trailer down her cheeks and she shivered despite the warmth of the day. Aragorn embraced her and held her while pained sobs wracked her small body. He shed tears of his own, unable to withhold them, and he buried his face into her hair.
"I won't let that become your fate," he whispered harshly. "I swear by my sword and by my forefathers. They will never touch you."
He pulled back enough to grasp her chin and guide her tearful gaze to him. Brianna's sobs turned to little sniffs and Aragorn carefully wiped her eyes with his fingers.
"I don't understand what power I have that will protect you from this horror, but if my love is your shield then let it be so," he said.
A soft smile broke through her sorrow and fear and graced her beautiful lips as she replied, "The mechanics of your protection is rare but simple. You and I were destined by the Triune to meet, love, and marry. It is a deep bond between two people and a bit difficult to explain without a diagram."
He cupped her damp cheek and pressed a kiss to her brow. Her eyes fluttered closed and her smile became brighter. His heart pounded in his chest and a surge of joy he'd never thought to have warmed his skin.
"I understand. Even the elves of Arda know of a destined one," he said.
"And you are... alright with the concept? It doesn't frighten you?" She asked earnestly.
Aragorn shook his head, "It doesn't. Not in the way you're insinuating."
She released a most unladylike snort and muttered, "Then maybe you do need that diagram."
Aragorn laughed despite the gravity of the situation. Trust the powers that be to ensure a safety net be available in a case such as this. The laughter left them as quickly as it came. Brianna stepped away from him and moved to sit on the banks of the Nimrodel. Aragorn followed her and took his place beside her.
"As your destined one," Aragorn began, "a marriage to me will protect you from the thrall of this curse?"
She grimaced and shrugged as she replied, "It's a bit more complicated than that. Some people only need to know of or befriend their destined one. Others need to make a love confession or become engaged. I'm the queen of my people and my uncles are certain to create a curse that will be difficult to break. I don't know everything, but Professor Moruni believes that marriage to you will be the best way to protect me from that."
With a sigh, she shook her head and held out her hand toward the waters. A small sliver of Nimrodel's waters spun into the air and settled in the palm of her hands. Silver light gleamed on the surface from the hidden magic of the elven lands. Aragorn stretched out his hand and tucked a few errant strands of her braided hair behind her pointed ear.
"It's not an ideal situation for us," she said softly.
"No, it is not," he conceded.
She smiled a bitter smile and allowed the water to return to its home. Aragorn moved to his knees before her to take her thin, beautiful hands in his. Brianna looked to him as he reached for the ring hung about her neck and gave it a gentle tug.
"I gave you my ring as a token of my affection and a declaration of my intention and love. My heart is yours, Aracasse, and it always will be," he said. "It matters not when we marry, not to me. All of my considerations were for your benefit. I know your heart, my love. I know your fears, your cares, and your woes. While I don't know everything in your past, you've alluded enough for me to make what I suspect are accurate guesses as to the horrors you've faced."
She winced at that and replied, "I'm sure we can both surmise what you've accurately guessed."
A sad smile tugged at his lips and Aragorn pressed a gentle kiss to the palm of her hand. He lingered for a moment longer than was proper and met her gaze while his lips gently caressed her skin. Heat entered her teal eyes causing them to appear like twin burning stars. When he pulled away, that burning remained.
"I know you've overcome many hardships on your own. Now, you will no longer face the horrors of the world alone. I will be with you," he said.
She smiled and looked down at their entwined hands. A moment later her smile fell into a contemplative frown. Aragorn tilted his head to one side and curiously waited for her to say whatever it was she needed to.
"What of your humanity, Aragorn? Won't you die of old age? How can I rule my people alone without you by my side?" She asked, voice small and brittle.
He had thought long and hard about that topic and understood her concern. Part of what had appealed himself to Arwen years ago was the fact that, because of her particular lineage, she had the ability to choose between immortality and mortality. Once that union looked to be an impossibility, Aragorn had figured he would take a human wife at some point. He'd never considered that his and Arwen's shared lineage would apply to him. He was human for the most part. It was only until recently the question of his mortality had been asked and all but answered by Gandalf in his typically wizardly way.
"I am of the line of Beren and Luthien. As their half elven children may choose a mortal or immortal life, so may their Numenorien descendants choose. For many weeks, I have made my choice and that is an immortal life with you for as long as you live," he said.
In the months he knew her, Aragorn had never thought he'd surprise her. As she gaped at him, open mouthed, as the full implication of what he blatantly laid out for her dawned.
"Well I'll be damned," she muttered crudely.
Aragorn chuckled and drew her to him. Her scent enveloped his senses and bore away the grief he felt at the loss of Gandalf. Though the fullness of her situation was dire, a deep sense of joy took root within him.
"So, does this mean that, if you take Gondor's throne, I'm both queen of the elves and a human kingdom? How is this going to work?" She asked with her head nestled comfortably on his shoulder.
He smiled, "I assumed we'd transfer power to our heir when he, or she, comes of age."
"Heirs... right," she muttered, clearly still overwhelmed.
He chuckled and responded wryly, "Yes, they do tend to appear after a certain amount of intimacy."
Brianna's resulting laughter was as beautiful as a brook tumbling joyfully down a hill as she replied, "I suppose they do."
He met her eyes and all awareness of the world left him and Aragorn gave into his need to taste her sweet lips. The feel of her slim body nestled on his arms prompted a deep burning heat to pool in the pit of his abdomen. He ran one hand up the length of her spine eliciting a delightful shudder from her person. Brianna's arms slipped around his neck and Aragorn pressed her into the soft grassy banks of the river. His lips furiously attacked hers and she answered with her own barely contained passion. Small hands twined into and gripped his hair as her tongue met his for their sensual dance. Brianna arched into him and her leg pressed against his pelvis and, consequently, his blooming need. She gasped into him and pressed herself against his leg.
In the throws of their passion, the skirt of Brianna's dress had hiked to her waist. What pressed against his leg was the wetness of her womanhood barely concealed by a thin cloth. The groan that reverberated into his lips from her throat nearly unravelled his self control. Aragorn broke the kiss, panting heavily and wanting to finish what they started. Instead, he looked at her and took note of the stunned, but lustful, expression in her eyes. She trembled beneath him, hands clutching the shoulders of his tunic.
"Look at us," she breathed, "not even reunited for a full two days and we can barely keep our hands off each other. If my students saw me now!"
Brianna started to laugh. The laugh was breathy and slightly nervous. Aragorn smiled and rolled off of her. De-flowering his bride-to-be before they'd officially wed would not be an honorable move on his part.
"Aracasse, will you consent to be my wife?" He asked for propriety's sake if nothing else.
"Yes," she said, eyes sparking with mischief. "When shall we marry?"
"In a week, if it pleases you," he said affectionately.
"It does," she replied softly.
He stood and held out his hand to her. Brianna took it and allowed him to help her to stand. She cupped his cheek, drew herself up and kissed him chastely on the lips. Need pulsed through him and he looked at her through hooded eyes when she drew back.
"Careful, my dear," he growled.
She smirked and pulled away from him, "I would cool down a bit before returning, if I were you."
Her eyes flicked to the bulge in his pants momentarily before looking directly at him and winking.
"Vixen," he quipped.
Brianna slipped away. Her joyful laugh echoed through the foliage. Aragorn closed his eyes and silently cursed.
Back in Caras Galadhon, Professor Laurel Moruni was holding a particular council. She and Artemis were joined by Glorfindel, Arwen, Legolas, Elrohir and Elladan. The topic of discussion consisted of the fact that the fate of their people rested in the hands of their queen and the king-to-be. Arda, as a region, was in danger of disintegrating if they couldn't heal the damage Hades and his minions had wrought. The red haired elf lady glanced at each attendee and frowned at their wide-eyed silence. Artemis was the only one of them who didn't look starstruck. In fact, much to the Professor's amusement, the elf looked ready to murder her.
"I've gathered the lot of you here today because I was just informed by her highness of the pending nuptials. She and Aragorn, son of Arathorn, will marry in a week's time and we, as her subjects, friends and family, must prepare," the professor said by way of introduction.
Artemis grumbled something under her breath that sounded suspiciously derogatory. Laurel ignored her for the moment and turned her attention to Legolas. The male elf looked the most contrite of the lot. His grey eyes were focused on the opposite wall and a small frown adorned his features. She took the time to admire the boy. Legolas greatly resembled Zeus in the eyes and face. His hair wasn't brown like his grandfather's and Laurel was certain he was taller and thinner. Zeus had been a bulky person with great big muscles that exuded power and authority as appropriate to his station. Laurel never met King Thranduil, but she suspected that the softer, leaner aspects of the boy's physique came from Athena's paramour.
"It is customary for the elf maids on earth to be given to the bridegrooms by their fathers. If a father isn't in the picture, then a male relative is chosen. Legolas, you are, officially, Aracasse's closest living male relative. Will you give her away to her destined one?" She asked.
Legolas met her eyes and inclined his head, "I will gladly stand in the place of her father so long as it pleases her."
Laurel smiled, "Knowing her, she'll be ecstatic."
The prince returned that smile with a genuine one of his own and replied, "As will I."
"I don't like this," Artemis said gruffly. "This marriage feels too rushed."
"That's because it is, but we don't have much time before the Fellowship resumes their quest. The whole point of this move is to enable our queen to reach Mordor in one piece and protect her from the curse your uncle and brother have decided they need to inflict on her," Laurel replied harshly.
"Besides," Glorfindel piped in, "I haven't heard much complaint from the two most involved. They seem more than willing to marry sooner rather than later."
The group fixed him with identical looks of inquiry. Glorfindel smiled and waved away their sudden attention as if they were mere flies.
"Best not ask too many questions," he said cheerfully.
Laurel pursed her lips while the rest of the group, sans Arwen who's cheeks blossomed a conspicuously red blush, peppered him with said questions. She didn't need to ask and well suspected the answer. With a shake of her head, she sat back in her seat and waited for the others to exhaust themselves. The things youthful elves and wizards got up to would never cease to amaze her. When silence once again reigned supreme, Laurel cleared her throat to regain their attention.
"It may be best that I speak with Aracasse on matters of her wedding night and... other things. I suspect there might be gaps in her education," she said.
No one argued that point, so she decided to move onto other topics, "I have a particular organization of the ceremony I will need to go over with Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. There is music involved and I will need as many people to know it before the ceremony as well as possible. I trust, since you're here, the lot of you will volunteer your time?"
"I think we can manage with your aid. What else should we be aware of?" Legolas asked.
"Something a bit unorthodox, but a matter that I will need to consult our queen about," Laurel said.
Glordindel raised an eyebrow and asked, "And that matter would be...?"
"We must anoint Aragorn as elven king," Artemis said before the professor could get a word in. "We'll need to walk Brianna through the process."
"Agreed," Laurel conceded. "I will be present as an elder and will anoint him with oil and crown him on the day of the wedding."
"Is it wise to conduct his coronation the same day as the wedding? That's usually not done," Artemis inquired.
Laurel sighed and said, "It isn't typically done, but it's what needs to happen."
Artemis' expression looked like she was close to articulating exactly what she thought needed to happen. The Huntress didn't say exactly what she was thinking; however, and kept her mouth firmly shut. The rest of their little group exchanged glances, but didn't remark on the rather obvious wordless exchange. Laurel clapped her hands together and summoned their attention back to her.
"Alright! We have a week! Let's get to it!"