Chapter 38:

The Parting of Ways

Author's Note: ... HOLY SHIT GUYS WE'RE FINALLY OUT OF LOTHLORIEN HOW LONG HAVE I BEEN WRITING ABOUT THIS PLACE OMG! I feel like we're about to get into some serious plot! Oh wait, that's because we are! We're done with Lorien! Don't get me wrong, I like Lorien, probably why I had our peeps hang out there for so long, but it's nice to finally start moving again.

Enjoy!

It was still dark when she woke. Ara shifted in their shared bed and lifted her head to observe the sleeping man next to her. Silver moonlight shone through her window and illuminated his angular cheeks, strong chin, and trimmed beard. Aragorn - her husband, the thought still left her in a state of bewilderment - breathed out a whisper of a word she couldn't recognize and shifted his head away from her. The cares that typically framed his expression with shadow were gone and peace reigned for that one precious moment.

Ara wondered how often she'd see his peace during the next several weeks. Once they embarked, the Fellowship still had the unfortunate concern about which path they intended to take to Mordor. Boromir thought taking Frodo - and by extension, the Ring - to Gondor would be the easiest course of action. Gondor was closer. It was straight down the Anduin. The Fellowship could stop at Minas Tirith and gather supplies and allies - maybe even an armed escort that could distract the enemy while they snuck into Mordor. Really, the idea was a sound one. Boromir wasn't an idiot and such a plan endeared her to him in that regard. However, there was the problem of Lord Denethor who - by all accounts - was even more pragmatic than his son and would likely think using the Ring of Power against the enemy could save the realms and stop Sauron. An impossibility to say the least. The ring would turn on them. Aragorn held the opinion that they should take a different route that would cause them to pass through a large swath of marshland. While Ara didn't like the prospect of attempting to stagger through another swamp, his reasoning was just as sound, but just as dangerous and rife with its own peril.

He'd spent the last several hours arguing with Boromir about the direction they were to take. Aracasse kept her council on the matter. She didn't know the way to Mordor just as Frodo. Her opinion on the matter was too uninformed and likely too inclined to bias. After all, how could she not agree with her husband with the information currently in her possession? In this more traditional world, it was expected for a wife to stand with her husband in the face of adversity. Should Boromir's path prove to be the better one, Ara fully intended to speak with Aragorn on the subject in private.

As private as I can manage, at least, she amended.

The moonlight stretched across their room and slowly moved with the passage of time. She sighed and lowered her head back to Aragorn's shoulder and released a contented sigh. While sleep eluded her laying in his embrace was more than adequate. She considered the past month. When three days of marriage had passed, she'd shooed Aragorn away from seclusion and encouraged him to interact with the Fellowship.

"You've lost Gandalf and this marriage business kept you from properly mourning him. Go to our comrades and do so. I'll join you later," she'd said when he'd attempted to protest.

Even through his protestations and arguments of their having little time together before the Fellowship's journey to Mordor resumed, Ara knew appreciation and relief when she saw it. He had gone in the end and left Aracasse to her own devices. She'd been proactive. The rest of Arda was unfamiliar to her and there were great gaps to her education concerning Gondor and Aragorn's ancestors. While her new husband spent several hours a day with the Fellowship over the next few days, research crowded the hours and encroached on her mind.

Aragorn discovered her readings one night when he'd entered their rooms after a long day with Haldir patrolling Lorien's borders. He'd been both amused and impressed. Amused, because she'd too much pride to ask him to tell her everything, and impressed, because she'd covered the Second Age and Earendil in three days. A book on Numenor and it's kings had been in her hands that night. Her husband had the decency not to interfere with her research and listened when she relayed her day's studies.

The Fellowship mourned Gandalf and found peace during their stay and at the times Ara had seen them during the day, she noticed that they were in much better spirits. All accept Boromir who seemed to be constantly at war with himself. The man troubled her. Boromir was by no means an evil man. He wanted to save his people, his kingdom, and had gone to Imladris with the intention of finding the meaning of a dream - a dream that seemed to point towards a hope for his people. Now that hope hung in a balance some days and then seemed nonexistent. Aragorn was becoming increasingly convinced that taking Frodo and, by extension, the ring to Minas Tirith would end in disaster. Ara wasn't entirely certain she agreed with him, but kept her council to herself.

What could she say on the matter? She didn't know the terrain and she'd barely managed to memorize the maps. In this, she needed to trust his judgment and did. If only all members of the Fellowship thought the same.

Dawn barely broke when Aragorn woke. It was an abrupt waking. One minute he slept soundly and the next his eyes blinked open and settled on her. A small, tired smile crept across his expression and his calloused fingers brushed her cheek then into her hair. She returned his smile and let him feel explore her face, shoulder, and back. When his hand slipped lower, she bit her lip and leaned in for the answering kiss.

It was an hour past sunrise when they rose from their marriage bed and began to ready themselves for the pending journey. Individual travel packs had been provided by the elves of Lothlorien as well as appropriate clothes for the Fellowship and Ara.

"I find myself dreading leading our company," Aragorn said after several minutes of comfortable silence.

Her fingers stilled over the laces of her bodice and glanced over her shoulder to observe him as he buckled his belt to his waist. His back faced her, so she couldn't gauge his expression.

"Any path we choose will be wrought with danger," she said. "The best we can do is pick what is perceived as the lesser of two evils and stick with it no matter the consequences."

Aragorn turned to look at her and Ara beheld fear in his eyes. Despite intellectually understanding the fact that people felt fear; especially when the decisions they made effected the safety of everyone around them, she hadn't considered him to be capable of that feeling. He'd always seemed quiet, sure, and logical. Every move was made with careful calculation and sometimes with grudging acceptance, but fear never seemed to factor into the process.

Then again, we weren't married when we last travelled together, she thought.

She was his wife. Of course he'd display fear in her presence. Out of everyone in the company, Ara was supposed to be the person he could be the most vulnerable. It should be the same with her.

Its not, echoed a treacherous voice from the shadows of her mind, you can't bring yourself to be vulnerable around anyone, let alone the man you call your husband.

As suddenly as that thought drifted through her consciousness, Ara slapped it away. He needed her to be strong in this moment. Showing her own insecurities would be immensely unproductive.

"Can such a choice be made when the Company is so divided?" He asked.

Ara turned to him. The lacings of her bodice hung partially undone and showed the cotton shirt underneath. She continued pulling at the strings and tightening them in the appropriate places to help keep her breasts from flying free. The process took an egregiously long time and she found herself missing twenty-first century comforts like bras.

"It might be improbable," she conceded, "but not impossible. Let the members of the Fellowship come to their own conclusions on the matter. If you must, defer to Frodo as the ultimate tie-breaker."

He continued to look troubled, but the outward display of the full extent of his inner turmoil no longer showed. She'd like to think it dissipated, but she knew better than to make such an assumption.

After a few more minutes of tightening and loosening her bodice, Aracasse finally managed to finish appropriately securing her undergarment. She turned to the stool on her side of the room that housed the rest of her clothing and grabbed a pair of leggings. She slipped them on quickly - tying them securely to her waist underneath her undershirt. Then she snatched a green tunic gifted to her by Arwen and shrugged it over her shoulders. When she turned around to face Aragorn once more, she saw he'd finished donning his attire complete with a bow and quiver of arrows. A glint of silver caught her eye and Ara made note of the silver weapons bracelet she'd given him hanging from a loop in his belt.

She smiled and bent to retrieve her pack as well as the bow and quiver of arrows Glorfindel felt the need to have commissioned made for her. A strange change had fallen over the elder elf. He and his betrothed, Arwen, acted oddly the past several weeks. Glorfindel seemed to have been shadowing her when she went places alone and Arwen made it a point to visit Ara for some conversation. The particular conversation left Aracasse feeling as if Arwen was engaging in some strange version of a job interview, though she couldn't quite pinpoint the reason why. If anything could be said about the elf pair, they were a match made in terms of subtle insinuation.

Now if she only knew what they were trying to say, Ara'd be much happier about their actions.

They descended from their rooms a short time later and met the Fellowship at their shared pavilion. Ara's appearance prompted excited exclamations from Merry and Pippin and subdued greetings from Sam and Frodo. Gimli boisterously welcomed her to the company while Boromir simply grunted and muttered something or other about hoping she didn't slow them down. Ara's shoulders tensed at the sentiment, but she released the offense a moment later. Had she been a typical maiden of a medieval world such as Arda, his skepticism wouldn't have been unreasonable. In any case, attempting to correct him would only make the situation worse and not better. Legolas, for his part, simply inclined his head to her and called her the Sindarin word for niece. She's smiled and returned his expression with her own in the similarly sounding language that he couldn't quite understand.

She and Aragorn immediately went to help their companions sort through their packs. Elves that could speak the common tongue flittered in and out of the pavilion with gifts for the general company. Most of the gifts were clothes and simple travel utensils, but a hearty number of these gifts were food in the form of thin cakes.

"Cram," Gimli muttered after visually inspecting one.

He nibbled at the corner of the light brown wafer before releasing a delighted grunt and devouring the rest quickly. This batch of elves that had come by laughed heartily.

"No more, friend!" One said. "You've eaten enough for a day's march!"

"I thought it was a type of cram such as the Dale-men make for journeys in the wild," Gimli explained while eyeing the rest of the batch with appreciation.

"Close," replied another. "But we call it lembas and it is more strengthening than any food made by men, and more pleasant than cram by all accounts."

"Indeed!" said Gimli. "Why, it is better than the honeycakes of the Beornings, and that is great praise, for the Beornings are the best bakers that I know of; but they are none too willing to deal out their cakes to travellers in these days. You are kindly hosts!"

Ara, for her part, unwrapped a little package of lembas bread for her own inspection. She sniffed it and found the aroma pleasant - like a loaf of freshly baked bread - and noted the sturdiness of the bread. With a nod she replaced the wrapping and stowed it once more into the food pack it came from.

The elves lectured them on the proper way to eat the food. One bite, it seemed, was needed for a day of labor - or rowing in their case - and the bread would keep sweet for many days if left unopened and unbroken. She filed that bit of information away and then recommended to each of her companions to keep a bit of the food on their person in case they were separated for any reason.

"Why would we need to worry about that?" Pippin asked innocently.

Ara frowned while taking a cake and slipping it into the side pouch that hung at her hip from her belt, "We're going out into the wild where we'll be presumably hunted by the enemy. Believe me, its best to prepare for separation as much as possible. Anything can happen."

"Strider must be rubbing off on you, Bri. You've become more dower since marrying him," Pippin quipped.

She raised an eyebrow and placed her hands on her hips, "I could always make sure one of us is separated from the group, if you so preferred?"

Pippin grinned, opened his mouth, and was promptly pulled aside by Merry who'd been much more observant of Aracasse's mood than his cousin. Ara shook her head - smiling before returning to her task of helping Legolas sort the lembas into everyone's individual packs. Leftovers - because there was more than each could carry - were packed away in the main bag that held the bulk of their food supplies.

This same circuit of elves also handed out cloaks. They were made from warm silk, though Ara couldn't quite pinpoint their natural color as they kept changing when they were close to certain parts of the terrain. Each cloak was fastened around the neck with a green and silver leaf broach. She caressed the silver veins of the broach with her forefinger and smiled.

"Are these magic cloaks?" Asked Pippin in wonder.

'I do not know what you mean by that,' answered the leader of the Elves. 'They are fair garments, and the web is good, for it was made in this land. They are Elvish robes certainly, if that is what you mean. Leaf and branch, water and stone: they have the hue and beauty of all these things under the twilight of Lórien that we love; for we put the thought of all that we love into all that we make. Yet they are garments, not armour, and they will not turn shaft or blade. But they should serve you well: they are light to wear, and warm enough or cool enough at need. And you will find them a great aid in keeping out of the sight of unfriendly eyes, whether you walk among the stones or the trees. You are indeed high in the favour of the Lady! For she herself and her maidens wove this stuff; and never before have we clad strangers in the garb of our own people.'

(Tolkien, J.R.R.. The Fellowship of the Ring: Being the First Part of The Lord of the Rings (p. 370). Houghton Mifflin Harcourt. Kindle Edition.)

Ara laughed at the way the four hobbits gaped at the elves and at the elves for not quite understanding why they thought the typical elven craft was magic. She kept those thoughts to herself, of course, and slung the cloak about her shoulders and fastened it at her front.

They broke their fast with a light morning meal for the final time in Lorien. Ara sighed and looked at the trees and felt the general magic of the place. A certain taste to the magic made her feel melancholy. It was as if this goodbye would be forever and she'd never again see the place in all its glory. Once breakfast was over and done with they company rose and bid farewell to the place. Haldir arrived a moment later to guide them to the gate of the city. They passed through silently and walked some ten miles or so before coming to the banks of the Silverlode. Three small grey boats had been made ready for the travelers causing Sam and Pippin to become uncomfortable. Sam's discomfort was immediately forgotten when he beheld the expert craftsmanship of the elven ropes. Ara shared a smile with Aragorn at his enthusiasm while they began distributing their baggage amongst the boats to maintain their integrity.

The elves showed the company how to step in and out before allowing them to depart. Aracasse and Legolas had the easiest of this task as they were both elves and were quite good at maintaining their sense of balance in the face of the shifting water.

I do cheat, though, Ara thought with an amused smile as she settled in her boat with her uncle.

Aragorn took a different boat from her with the company of Frodo and Sam. Sam remained in the middle of the boat with Frodo in the back to help Aragorn in the rowing. Boromir, Merry and Pippin took another and Ara shared hers with Legolas and Gimli. Due to the smaller statures of both Aracasse and Gimli, their boat was able to take a more unequal distribution of the supplies.

They disembarked. Aragorn led them in his boat and they rowed in silence for a time following the current. When they rounded a bend in the river the sound of sweet, mournful singing met their ears and their eyes beheld a boat carved and shaped to take on a very good likeness of a great, white swan. The sight of the skillful craftsmanship caused Aracasse to gape at it in giddy excitement. Her uncle glanced at her and smiled.

On the boat sat Lord Celeborn with his tall, beautiful wife, Lady Galadriel standing behind him. Her voice was lifted in song and the lyrical soprano melody drifted through the air and filled their ears and hearts.

I sang of leaves, of leaves of gold, and leaves of gold there grew:

Of wind I sang, a wind there came and in the branches blew.

Beyond the Sun, beyond the Moon, the foam was on the Sea,

And by the strand of Ilmarin there grew a golden Tree.

Beneath the stars of Ever-eve in Eldamar it shone,

In Eldamar beside the walls of Elven Tirion.

There long the golden leaves have grown upon the branching years,

While here beyond the Sundering Seas now fall the Elven-tears.

O Lórien! The Winter comes, the bare and leafless Day;

The leaves are falling in the stream, the River flows away.

O Lórien! Too long I have dwelt upon this Hither Shore

And in a fading crown have twined the golden elanor.

But if of ships I now should sing, what ship would come to me,

What ship would bear me ever back across so wide a Sea?

(Tolkien, J.R.R.. The Fellowship of the Ring: Being the First Part of The Lord of the Rings (pp. 372-373). Houghton Mifflin Harcourt. Kindle Edition.)

As the song faded, Galadriel smiled at them and said, "We have come to bid our last farewell and speed your journey with gifts of our land."

Ara raised a brow, but didn't reply as Celeborn added, "You have been our guests, but we have yet to share a meal. Let us share our first and last meal together with this parting feast."

The swan passed them and Aragorn, Boromir and Legolas steered the boats to follow. When they made land at the banks of the Silverlode, a small feast was laid out for them on a simply spun blanket. Ara and Aragorn sat together and partook of cheeses, breads and fruit. Meat was scarce for this luncheon given it was the middle of the afternoon and she had the distinct impression that the elves of Arda tended away from it a majority of the time. When they ate their fill, Celeborn began to give them directions about the lands they would sail into if they follow the river.

"If you continue to follow the Great River, you will come to the Rauros. The West Bank leads to Rohan and the eastern bank will take your company to the bleak hills of the Emyn Muil, then through the Dead Marshes and finally to the Gates of Mordor. Boromir, if you wish to depart to Gondor, you would best make way through Rohan, though I must caution you to be sure to avoid becoming entangled in Fangorn Forest. I suspect I need not warn you and Aragorn of the dangers?"

"Indeed," Boromir replied, "I have heard of Fangorn, but what little I have seem to be old wives tales."

Ara raised an eyebrow and interjected dryly, "In my world many consider elves to be old wives tales. Whatever these tales say about this Fangorn Forest, its best we heed them."

The rebuke was gentle and the gondorian seemed irritated at it for a moment before he bowed his head in assent. For her part, Ara regretted the mode of the rebuke. If she planned to become a queen of Gondor, she would need to relearn much of the art of diplomacy. As the conversation continued, Aracasse considered her treatment of Boromir up to this point. In Imladris, his general regard of her was one of amusement as easy discourse. At the beginning of the Fellowship's stay in Lothlorien, he seemed quite supportive of Aragorn marrying her. Now that the marriage had taken place, his mood swung from one of ease and good humor to dark melancholy. Even Aragorn seemed troubled by Boromir's mood, though neither could quite know what to make of it.

"He is disappointed that I am strongly considering guiding the Fellowship away from Gondor instead of to it," her husband had told her when during one of their less active evenings together.

In this, Aracasse erred on the side of her husband's judgment of the situation. She didn't know Boromir as well as they, yet, which made it impossible for her to accurately guess the Gondorian's true mind. She could look into his mind and discover the truth of the man's intentions, but such an act felt intrusive and would certainly not endear her to the son of Gondor's Steward. The man's good opinion was likely the thing that would help ease Aragorn to his throne and if Boromir disapproved of the woman who'd become queen then her husband would have an unnecessary obstacle.

That's assuming his ascension goes as smoothly as it can, she thought. A lot of things could have been neglected with Gondor's throne being vacant for as long as it has.

Yes, Aragorn needed her to be as charming as she could be in these early days. The social impulses of Doctor Brianna Davis will need to be buried for a while. The huntress and the queen were what was needed.

Aracasse was startled from her thoughts when Lady Galadriel rose from her place on the blanket. She took a cup from her maidens and filled it with mead and gave it to Lord Celeborn.

"Now we must drink the cup of farewell," said the lady. "Drink, Lord of the Galadhrim and let not your heart be said!"

When the Lord of Lorien drank his fill, she took the cup and offered it to the rest of the Fellowship. Aracasse inclined her head in thanks when she received hers and returned it with a smile.

"Now, sit once more for we have some last parting gifts for your company," Galadriel said and turned to her maidens.

The elf women moved quickly to the swan boat and took out two chairs while the Fellowship situated themselves on the soft grass once more. When all were situated, silence reigned. Galadriel looked at each of them with her old startling blue eyes.

"We have drunk the cup of parting," she said at last, "and shadows fall between us. But, before you go, I have brought gifts in my ship the Lord and Lady of the Galadhrim would offer you in memory of Lothlorien."

To Aragorn she gave a sheath that had been made of his sword, Anduril, and a parting gift from her granddaughter, Arwen, in the form of a green elf stone. Aragorn seemed surprised at the gift of the stone and attempted to reject it, but Galadriel merely laughed.

"Do not think she offers this as anything more than a gift offered to a friend," the lady said, voice as musical as a song. "This stone is given to you jointly by the Lady and her Betrothed in recognition of your friendship. Take this token as one of hope and along with it the name that was foretold for you: Elessar, the Elfstone of the House of Elendil."

Ara felt for her husband in that moment. To think he had the misfortune to have prophesy quoted at him right before he left on a perilous journey! She was thankful that prophecy didn't seem to follow her around in the same way. Elves - the monarchs in particular - tended to be the messengers of prophecy and not the ones prophecies were about. The Lady turned to her next and the gleam in her eyes told the tale of utter embarrassment that was to await.

"For our queen, I give this," she motioned for her handmaiden to her right with a red wooden box in her hands to step forward.

When the box opened, Aracasse bit back a groan. It was a golden circlet fashioned into elegant leaves and vines. A glittering sapphire was set in the middle molded to rest comfortably between her brows.

"A symbol of your station to be worn as a sign of hope to the people and a warning to your enemies," Galadriel said. "When you ride into battle, it will protect you from all but the most potent of dark spells and arrows will not piece your armor."

Despite how annoyed she felt at the idea of wearing the thing Ara graciously accepted the gift for what it was. After all, if she intended to run around telling people she was Queen of the Elves and Magic, then it wouldn't hurt to actually look like one from time to time. The added bonus of the thing giving her extra protection in battle was another point in its favor. She stared at the pretty little thing while Lady Galadriel moved next to Boromir and gifted him a golden belt. Merry and Pippin were next and received small silver belts. Legolas received a new bow and with it a quiver of arrows. Sam received a box of dirt that would enrich the soil of any garden he planted. Ara smiled at his expression when she'd bothered to tune into the conversation once more.

Next to her, Aragorn leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. His big hand took the circlet and rested it on her head. No words were spoken as he did the deed and Ara found that she couldn't quite bring herself to protest the act.

Galadriel's gift to Gimli was most interesting. The lady turned to him, blue eyes shining, and smiled at the dwarf. Their traveling companion looked to the ground and clasped his hands over his belt.

"What gift would a dwarf ask of the elves?" She inquired.

Aracasse shared a look with Aragorn when Gimli shook his head and replied, "None Lady. It is enough for me to have see Lady Galadriel and hear her gentle words."

A pink tint brushed across the lady's cheeks and her smile turned bright, "Here all ye elves! Let none say again that Dwarves are grasping and ungracious! Yet surely, Gimli son of Glóin, you desire something that I could give? Name it, I bid you! You shall not be the only guest without a gift."

"There is nothing lady unless…" Gimli trailed off and flushed scarlet.

Ara's brows raised towards her hairline. Gimli sputtered for a moment, but then rallied himself and looked directly at Lady Galadriel.

"Unless it may be permitted to ask, nay, to name a single strand of your hair which surpasses all the gold of the earth as the stars surpass the gems of the mine. I do not ask for such a gift, but you command me to name my desire."

Ara crossed her arms in amusement: both at Gimli's passionate expression of the Lady of Lorien's beautiful hair and at the looks of astonishment and wonder on the other elves' faces. Even her uncle seemed nonplussed at the dwarf's request. Aragorn caught her humor and leaned close to her ear.

"Are there not dwarves on Earth?" He asked.

"There are," she replied, voice as low pitched as his, "but we actually interact on friendly terms, so they're quite used to elven beauty. Some are even indifferent to it preferring the, and I quote, buxom human women."

He chuckled and interlaced his fingers with hers while they watched Lady Galadriel give Gimli not one, but three strands of her ridiculously long hair. When that interaction was complete, she finally turned to Frodo and gifted him a vial that held the light of Earendil's star. Frodo accepted it with a smile that seemed all to familiar with the contents. Ara frowned.

He must have looked into the mirror, she thought.

With that final gift, Lord Celeborn rose from his seat. The Fellowship stood as well and followed him back to their boats. Aracasse silently parted from Aragorn to return to her uncle's boat and the company silently embarked once more down the Silverlode. As they rowed passed with the current, Lady Galadriel was seen at the bank furthest from her company watching them pass into the wilderness.

Aracasse watched her fade from view as the beautiful woods passed into recent memory. Once more, the lady's voice soared through the air - her final farewell.

Namarie!