Chapter 1 – A King's Sorrow
The day was long passed into night when Aragorn stood alone in his chambers – the chambers of the King. Not five days earlier he had received his reward for a lifetime of struggle - the crown of Gondor. He had accepted it, albeit begrudgingly, for Aragorn knew that alone among his kin, his reign had ended ere it began, and that he would leave no heir to bear the crown after him.
He stood alone, quiet, sombre. His normally vibrant grey-silken eyes were pale and lifeless. A letter he held in his right hand, crinkled lightly by the force of his grip. Elrond had written him apologizing for having not been able to attend the coronation. But more ill news than that was carried in that letter; it was news that brought with it the power of devastation that no thing or no one in all of Middle-earth had over him. Arwen had sailed west, after all, and he was now utterly alone.
Taking a deep breath, he turned and strode to the window in the Eastern corner of his room. From it, he looked out onto the White City and he was saddened that he would not rule long over it after all. Fate had spoken its judgment on him and sundered him from all hope that a future could be made. Now, one thing alone awaited Aragorn Elessar, for he was to be the last of his line.
Yet, even while the journey and the Quest had been still ongoing, he had held some dim hope that Arwen would see through the false veil of his words to her and come for him despite them. So, he had waited patiently for word of her, but none came. Even as he held the crown and scepter in his hands and pledged his loyalty to Gondor, his mind had been on Arwen alone. His love for her was greater than anything in life, great enough that he would have walked through the gates of Mordor itself, if only to be with her. He had thought she shared in that love. But he was proven wrong by a simple letter, and words that inevitably spelled out only five letters: Death. Death for the Hope of Mankind. Death for the line of Kings, which had been unbroken from father-to-son since the days of Elendil. Death for himself.
And for hours on end, Aragorn stood there, unmoving, caring naught for anything but the fact that Arwen had gone. His heart was breaking, weeping for the loss of his beloved. He understood in those long moments of misery how Elrond must have felt when Celebrían had sailed West. It was an unmistakable feeling. Coldness penetrated his bones and he felt as if he were drowning in a river of sorrow, the torrent of which was too great to withstand.
"Shall I sink now or swim?" He though ruefully. But answer came swiftly. No life was worth living absent of Arwen, and though he was capable of ruling Gondor alone, he loved his people and his Kingdom far too much to give them a Kingship with no hope of enduring. He would give unto Gondor no heir, for no love could ever replace his love of the Evenstar, and so no woman ever would share his bed, save her.
His decision made, Aragorn turned for the door, but ere he reached it, he heard a knock upon the thick, sturdy wood. He stood stark still for a moment and began to shiver slightly at what confrontation might lie behind the door. If it were to be Faramir, he would have to deliver the ill news, and after all Faramir had been through, it seemed a grave injustice to lay all the worries of Kingdom at his feet.
But after a moment, he managed to calm himself and answered, saying, "You may enter."
The door soon opened and through its wide girth came not Faramir, but three Elven princes, smiling at Aragorn and chatting amongst themselves. They all stopped cold when they saw his face, pale, gaunt, and weak with sorrow, and his eyes red and burning with hot tears. Their hearts seemed then to stop - two brothers and an old, dear friend, confronted with the ghastly reality of a loss too painful to suffer.
Yet, Elladan and Elrohir knew well what this meant. Arwen had chosen the Havens after all and forsaken her vow to Aragorn in the end; and though they loved their sister, they could not help but be furious with her. This was a betrayal of the worst kind, and even more awful was the state of their brother, Gondor's King. They could smell the scent of death coming upon Aragorn and they perceived that he would choose to die rather than live absent of Arwen. Thus, by their father's wishes, the Hope of Men on Middle-earth would end.
But Legolas, Aragorn's long-faithful friend stood agape and worried, for he knew naught of the possibility that Arwen would refuse Aragorn at the end of things. "Aragorn, what is the matter?" he asked gently, searching for some answer in the King's weary eyes.
Aragorn simply handed Legolas the letter and watched in painful silence as the face of Thranduil's son laxed and then contorted with horror. Legolas turned his eyes on Aragorn and at last realization dawned on him.
"Oh, no," he whispered to himself. If Arwen were to leave Aragorn and Middle-earth behind, he expected he knew Aragorn well enough to foresee the results, and they were too horrible to imagine.
Aragorn nodded at Legolas sadly, having heard the silently uttered words. "She has gone, and with her taken my will to live."
Elladan gazed on Aragorn sadly. "What will you do, brother?" he asked, though he feared for the answer.
Aragorn sighed and stiffened his chest. He lifted his chin and bore forth as much pride as he had remaining. "I shall abdicate the throne in favor of Faramir. He will make a fine King and Éowyn a fine Queen. Gondor will go on. The Kindred of Man shall yet live, even though the line of Elendil fades at last forever."
Aragorn had spoken plainly and with little emotion, but the true turbulence of his sorrow could not be kept from Elven eyes, especially from those who loved him.
Elrohir hung his head for a moment and suppressed his tears from falling. "But what will you do, Estel?" he then asked, at last turning his saddened gaze on Aragorn.
Aragorn's eyes fell and tears welled in his eyes. "I will pass away into the Western mountains and leave this world." His voice was soft and solemn, and as he spoke, he looked fondly on his brothers and on his dearest friend, Legolas. He despised having to put them through such suffering, but he could not bear a life without Arwen – not in a thousand years, and not in a thousand lifetimes could he have ever been prepared to deal with such pain as he felt. Arwen had chosen her path and now he had chosen his.
Elrohir and Elladan gasped aloud when they heard Aragorn's reply, for the shock of it was great, even though they had known what it would be. Legolas, however, merely turned his face away in an attempt to shade the tears that fell hard and fast down his lovely face.
Elladan stood quiet and motionless, staring in stricken
horror on the Man he loved so fiercely that he would have died to save
him. "You would leave us?" he asked,
his voice hard with emotion and demanding answer. "You would leave your people without a King and three Elven
princes with half of their hearts? You
would do this, Aragorn?"
The King regarded all three Elves carefully and his love for them burned like fire within him. Yet the utter devastation of Arwen's passing could not be undone, and whether by his own will or by age in years to come, he would pass away from a lifetime of heartbreak and sorrow, only to leave Gondor with no more than that with which he came. Nay, his doom was now fixed, and no foreseeable end could prevent it.
So Aragorn turned to Elladan and took his brother by the hand. "I cannot stay, my brother," he said then softly as a lone tear wound its way down his face. "The pain is too great to bear. I shall never love again and will therefore leave Gondor no heir. What good then will it have done to have remained? It would profit nothing to me or to Gondor."
"Yet, I will not ask you to see me away," Aragorn continued, looking then to each Elf one at a time. "Nor will I ask you to support my decision. I only ask of you to remember me, and when you pass away into the West, tell Arwen naught of what happened. Only tell her I lived a happy life and that even after all that came to pass and even at the bitter end, I loved her and begrudged not her choice."
Elrohir scoffed. "Would that it mattered, I would not lie to my sister, even for you, Estel," he said firmly. "Yet it matters naught. Neither of us will ever see the West. Instead, we will live out our lives in Rivendell and in Arnor, with those whom we have loved most in our lifetimes, save our kin."
Legolas remained calm at this revelation, for he had long known the hearts of Elladan and Elrohir. But Aragorn looked on them in astonishment and his sorrow was increased ten-fold. "Adar knows of this?"
"Aye," nodded Elladan, who looked on Aragorn with much love and sorrow. "But according to your letter, he will have Arwen to look after him. We will miss him and our mother awfully, but we are the true kin of Eärendil and Elros, King of Númenor. We belong among Men more so than the Elves. It seems in the end that all of the kin of the Mariner are alike in this way, save Elrond. He alone among the Half-elven takes more joy in Elven life than that of Men. And I am sure, had he not objected so fervently, Arwen would have chosen as we did. Yet not for love of Men, but for love of you, Estel."
Aragorn's head lowered then and shuddered uncontrollably. "I have brought naught but pain and suffering to he who raised me and made me into the Man that I became, and now I am reduced to nothing!" he replied. And as he spoke, he wept.
Looking sadly upon his brother, Elladan stepped forward and gathered the trembling Man into his arms and held him as he cried. His own tears let loose then and though he would have, he could do naught to stop them.
And as Aragorn continued to shed his tears of mourning, Legolas and Elrohir gathered about them, and together, they stood firmly, hoping to soothe some of Aragorn's pain. But they all recognized that it was a hopeless cause. Aragorn was lost to the world. And though he had come like the sweeping fury of the Eastern Winds and carried off with him all shadow that threatened the world, he would leave it grieved and broken. His had been a light brighter and more beautiful than any they had ever beheld, and to see it dimmed so by the agonizing pain of love was an unbearable torment. Yet, to see his very spirit quenched so completely as to cause his body to die would be a thing so terrible that none of them could say whether or not they would survive his passing.
And when many hours had passed, Legolas alone emerged from Aragorn's quarters baring a letter addressed to Lord Elrond. He went then to Faramir, who saw the sadness and utter defeat in the eyes of the usually joyful Elf.
"This letter is to be dispatched to Rivendell with due haste," said Legolas to the Steward, and his voice was dead as a clouded night.
A chill ran through Faramir's bones. He had perceived the King's carefully conceiled melancholy ever since they had first met, and that Legolas had come from the Royal Chambers so distraught boded ill for Aragorn and for all of Gondor.
But Faramir answered Legolas after a moments time, nodding
his head to the Prince of Mirkwood.
"Yes, my lord," he said. "I will
see it is sent by our swiftest of messengers at once."
"This very hour?" Legolas asked in reply.
"Yes, my lord," Faramir nodded again. "This very hour."
"That is well, then. I will retire to the King's chambers, for he is in great need of his friends," Legolas then said, his eyes glazing over and seeming disconnected from the current reality. But then he snapped to attention, and looked down on Faramir, who bore a worried expression. "You will stay in the palace, will you not? Your presence may yet be required ere the night is passed."
"I will stay, my lord," Faramir replied lightly. And at that, his heart sank. It seemed that there would be no happy ending for Gondor, after all.
As Legolas departed to where Aragorn lingered, Faramir's head collapsed into his hands and he wept for what could have been. And Legolas strode down the long, dark hallway, grief and anxiety overwhelming him, and he thought it certain that all good things had forever passed from Middle-earth. Then he turned at the intersection mid-way through the darkening hall and passed away from all sight.
