1 CHAPTER II
1.1 "Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,"
1.2 J.R.R. Tolkien
Aragorn returned from his walk hours later, long past the rising of the moon. Slowly circumventing the deserted halls, he made his way toward his room.
In his wanderings, he'd come across more questions than answers. Although he was unsure whether he would ever be capable of once more trusting Arwen, he didn't wish to sever all ties with her either. However, Aragorn couldn't simply forget what he'd heard.
Confused and tired, he silently entered his room. Judging by the amount of wax spilled upon his bedside table, the candles lighting his room had been lit several hours ago. Closing the door behind him, Gondor's heir slowly slipped off his cloak and belt. He tossed them over the room's only chair as he walked toward his bed. Dropping onto the feathered mattress, Aragorn removed his boots one at a time and tossed them to the floor.
For a moment he simply stared at the shadows dancing on the wall.
Shaking his head, he rose to his feet, grabbed a candle from the table and crossed the room. Leaning over the chairs back, he plucked a clean piece of parchment from a pile on his desk. He uncorked a small bottle of black ink then gently took an old, worn quill in hand. Aragorn dipped it in the ink and began to write:
Dear Arwen,
I cannot in good conscience accept your vow of eternal love, for I have come to doubt its veracity. I feel I no longer know you, having come across maligning information. Therefore, I am taking this time of separation to search my heart in the hope that I can regain some measure of clarity.
Yours,
1.3 Estel
Carefully rolling the ivory parchment. He lifted the candle and slowly tipped it, sealing the letter with a small glob of cooling wax. Setting the candle down, Aragorn removed his ring and pressed it to the seal. He then pulled a thin, circular tube from a desk drawer. Although it was made of leather, the case was hard and unbending. At one end, tied on by a thin string, the tube's cap hung open.
Only then did he lift the Evenstar from around his neck. Holding it before him, he studied the shimmering jewel. It was truly beautiful, as was its owner. Unfortunately, external beauty was not a prerequisite of internal beauty; for which Arwen seemed rather lacking.
With quiet resolve, he dropped the letter and necklace inside the case.
Sealing it, he set it beside the now guttering candle. Tomorrow, he would give it to Elrohir with instructions to hand it to Arwen only after the Fellowship had left.
Maybe upon his return, he'd have the answers he sought.
1.1 "Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,"
1.2 J.R.R. Tolkien
Aragorn returned from his walk hours later, long past the rising of the moon. Slowly circumventing the deserted halls, he made his way toward his room.
In his wanderings, he'd come across more questions than answers. Although he was unsure whether he would ever be capable of once more trusting Arwen, he didn't wish to sever all ties with her either. However, Aragorn couldn't simply forget what he'd heard.
Confused and tired, he silently entered his room. Judging by the amount of wax spilled upon his bedside table, the candles lighting his room had been lit several hours ago. Closing the door behind him, Gondor's heir slowly slipped off his cloak and belt. He tossed them over the room's only chair as he walked toward his bed. Dropping onto the feathered mattress, Aragorn removed his boots one at a time and tossed them to the floor.
For a moment he simply stared at the shadows dancing on the wall.
Shaking his head, he rose to his feet, grabbed a candle from the table and crossed the room. Leaning over the chairs back, he plucked a clean piece of parchment from a pile on his desk. He uncorked a small bottle of black ink then gently took an old, worn quill in hand. Aragorn dipped it in the ink and began to write:
Dear Arwen,
I cannot in good conscience accept your vow of eternal love, for I have come to doubt its veracity. I feel I no longer know you, having come across maligning information. Therefore, I am taking this time of separation to search my heart in the hope that I can regain some measure of clarity.
Yours,
1.3 Estel
Carefully rolling the ivory parchment. He lifted the candle and slowly tipped it, sealing the letter with a small glob of cooling wax. Setting the candle down, Aragorn removed his ring and pressed it to the seal. He then pulled a thin, circular tube from a desk drawer. Although it was made of leather, the case was hard and unbending. At one end, tied on by a thin string, the tube's cap hung open.
Only then did he lift the Evenstar from around his neck. Holding it before him, he studied the shimmering jewel. It was truly beautiful, as was its owner. Unfortunately, external beauty was not a prerequisite of internal beauty; for which Arwen seemed rather lacking.
With quiet resolve, he dropped the letter and necklace inside the case.
Sealing it, he set it beside the now guttering candle. Tomorrow, he would give it to Elrohir with instructions to hand it to Arwen only after the Fellowship had left.
Maybe upon his return, he'd have the answers he sought.
