Arrrgh! I agree that this story is sooo long! Glad to hear you're liking it though.
Just to point out that I follow – overall – the books over the movie. For instance, when I read (and re-read) the books, Faramir struck me as a nice guy, so that's how he is in the story. Also Haldir doesn't die!
This is another very long chapter by the way. I hope that's a good thing!
Read, review and above all enjoy!
***
'May I speak to you alone, Aragorn, before we break camp?' Asked Mithmír politely. She tried to hide the thrills that ran through her body in quick succession. Even under the bright mid-morning sunshine, the memory of the night before was too clear… She smiled with a blush, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. They were no more pointed than they had been before; but nevertheless the change in her was undeniable.
'Of course, elfling,' said Aragorn, trying to seem preoccupied and succeeding. He laid down the papers he had been reading on the table, and moved over to the door, letting her out before him as was polite. They went a little way from the camp, and then Mithmír sat down on the grass – a little unorthodox in the company of a King, maybe, but then they were family and very close. Aragorn sat close by, and looked at her intently. In the glow of daylight he couldn't picture the Elf's arms about her. The sun also made him see her as she really was in his eyes: a mere maiden, barely above girlhood…
Mithmír decided to tackle the easier point first. 'Aragorn, ada-nost [kin of my father], I have wonderful news for you!'
'What is it, tithen elleth [little elf-maid]?' He smiled politely, not wishing to let slip that he knew already – or rather, thought he did.
'You know as well as any other that I am half-elven, half-human,' she said slowly, trying to sort out her thoughts to some kind of coherent form. 'And I have always had… grief from that as well as joy. When I was younger, as you will doubtless remember, I only wanted to be fully mortal – to be a mortal woman and be allowed to ride to war with you and ada [daddy].'
Aragorn, now baffled as to where this was going, chuckled with glee. 'I remember bouncing you on my knee, your hair flying about your pretty head – your hair was curly then, perfect ringlets like your great-grandmother's – when you were just a tiny thing! Your parents were so proud of you… Are,' he corrected self-consciously. 'And all you would say was, "Arrie, uncle Arrie, can I see your sword?"' He laughed again happily, and Mithmír joined him.
'I had nearly forgotten calling you that… Arrie,' she said in mirth. 'I think I have grown out of that, however.'
Don't ever grow out of it, thought Aragorn dreamily. Stay young like you will always be in my memories of happier, simpler days.
'Anyway,' she said with a mock grimace at this sidetrack, 'as I grew older my mind strayed more towards my Elven kin. I took greater interested in the Elves. You know all three of my closest friends are immortal – Anoniel, Tirathnavir and Haldir. I felt I could… relate more to Elves – in most ways at least.' At Aragorn's knowing look, she corrected with an abashed grin, 'well, apart from my impatience, rashness, and desire to act instantly, always. And the way I feel that rules are made to be broken. But then another factor entered the equation –' she raised a hand to stop Aragorn's question – 'which I'll tell you about next. But the outcome of that was…' she paused and took a deep breath, 'I asked the Valar to give me the choice of the Halfelven, such as Elrond's kin receive.'
Aragorn breathed in sharply, and the sound was harsh in the quiet morn.
'Lady Elbereth came to me last night,' she said softly, wondering at her own words even as she said them. 'And she… oh, Aragorn, she granted my plea! Gilthoniel listened to me, a mere mortal – or now an Elf!' Her eyes flashed like dark jewels, and her excitement could hardly be contained.
Without a pause, Aragorn drew her into a tight, paternal embrace. Mithmír felt like a little girl again, and she liked it. But even as he was muttering words of praise and joy, she began to sob. 'Why do you weep, my loved elfling, lucky one?' Asked Aragorn with concern.
Mithmír sobbed once more, and then said in a slight snuffle, 'Aragorn… you're mortal… my father's mortal… my mother's mortal…' Her voice cracked with emotion and realization. 'Oh, I didn't think, Aragorn, I'm a silly little girl-child…' She sniffed. 'I shall have to watch you… I shall have to live on alone as you all die. I shall have to leave behind those I love… Watch them go, one by one…'
Aragorn almost told her then of her father's inevitable doom, but he held it back – and also the observation that her mother could take her place on the ships anyhow. It was the wisest thing to do. But he had to admit his other knowledge. 'You shall not lose the one you love most of all, though,' he said softly, letting her go and turning her face up so her eyes met his. Calloused, worn fingers stroked the hair from her damp, red, puffy face with gentleness beyond near all else.
'How…?' Mithmír asked slowly, but the crying stopped and the sun in her heart that was hope came out from behind its cloud. She was a small girl being comforted after falling over by the tender, protective embrace of her uncle…
'I saw you last night,' he said comfortingly. 'I wasn't prying into your privacy, don't worry.' He brushed the worried frown-lines from her face with his thumb. 'I can see how much he loves you, Mithmír, and I know that feeling is mutual.' He shook his head firmly to stop her replying indignantly. 'If you truly love him, Mithmír, you shall be happy to give him the greatest gift of all: you, for all eternity. And eternity is a long, long time.' He chuckled softly, and his eyes glinted kindly. 'Too long for me. I am a Man at heart. But somehow…' he looked at her in deep thought. 'Yes, Mithmír, you are an Elf at heart. But is he the right one for that gift?'
Mithmír pulled away, and sat perfectly still, looking at him with some deep, unreadable emotion. She remembered…
His hands taking hers… His lips brushing skin… The way he looked at her like she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen… The way he had sworn never to hurt her… The way he made her feel…'Yes,' she said decisively, nodding her head once. 'I should give that gift to none other.'
Aragorn smiled, and the beam was brighter than Mithmír had ever seen. 'Then I wish you all happiness, Mithmír. You shall always be my elfling. But I guess I shall never see you as an old, wise woman after this!'
Mithmír got up nimbly with a laugh. She felt normal, but Aragorn noticed that she was even more agile than usual. 'You shall have the pleasure of always seeing me in my prime!' She replied with glee.
'Since your father is not… here,' the pause was imperceptible to Mithmír, 'would you ask Legolas to come and speak to me?' He waved his finger in mock accusation. 'As your closest "father figure", there are some rules I need to lay down to him.'
'Of course!' Replied Mithmír, and ran away.
Aragorn had five minutes grace before Legolas arrived. He leaned back against a tree, and remembered Mithmír as she was when she was young… She was always such a happy child; but he and her father had always known this choice had to be made, no matter how much her mother denied it. She had made it well, anyhow. He felt no bitterness as he pictured himself being old and frail while she, unchanged in all but increased wisdom, still hunted and rode and swam… He wondered as he had so often recently if he was asking too much of Arwen. She would lose her people and part of her identity… And what should she gain? The fleeting love and Doom of Men? Even the love of a King among Men was not high enough for his Evenstar.
'King Elessar?' Asked Legolas politely. Aragorn looked up, and his brow was creased in thought. A slight smile creased his lips.
'Please, sit down,' he said with an absurdly formal bow that didn't really work when the person in question was sitting down. Legolas, feeling distinctly uncomfortable even though the man was his great friend, easily sat down tall and straight on the grass.
'You summoned to see me?' He asked somewhat warily.
'Mithmír told me all about it,' Aragorn said bluntly. There was no point in wasting time on beating about the bush. 'And what she didn't tell, I guessed – or saw.' He glanced at the Elf meaningfully.
Legolas felt a rare flush rising in his cheeks. 'I swear on Gilthoniel most high, King Elessar, that I never touched her in that way…'
'I trust you, Prince Legolas,' said Aragorn, using the Elf's title in return for his own. 'I trust you as a true and loyal friend as well as a brave sword-mate. But there is more I must ask of you.'
Legolas nodded slowly. 'For her…' he looked after Mithmír almost wistfully, 'I shall do anything you ask.'
'You must understand, Legolas.' Aragorn said somberly, feeling like an idiot. He was the Elf's friend, not his father. He tried to relax. 'She is much younger than she seems. She grew up as a mortal, not an Elf. She may be a shield-maiden but her heart is as vulnerable as anyone else's. I ask you to look after her, to cherish her, to never lie to her or do anything behind her back. Treat her like the Lady of high birth that she is. When all her family have passed away, I and her parents, then you shall be the only one to care for her. It is a great responsibility; but one you shall gladly take on if your love is true. This is the first time she has loved, Legolas: I am sure it is not so with you, but swear to me that this is no game?'
'I swear it,' said Legolas, angry at even the idea that he may be acting his affections for the shield-maiden.
'That is well, for I would not have her heart broken so young,' said Aragorn almost wearily. 'She means so much to so many, Legolas, more than her or you can ever understand: take care of her well for all of us. As you gain her we lose her; not to meet even after this life; separated to the very end when we all meet before Eru…' His eyes were sincere and concerned. Legolas laid a hand on his shoulder and looked straight at him:
'I shall do as you say, as it is also what my heart dictates to me,' he assured him boldly. 'She means more than all of Arda to me, Aragorn – that you know, I think.'
'I guessed before, and now I know for sure.' Aragorn smiled wryly. 'And if you do care for her so, Legolas, may I ask you a favor as a friend?'
'Of course.'
'There is news of her father which she shall find hard to hear… I wish for you to know it, so that there may be two of us to comfort her. She loved' Legolas noticed the past tense with a tinge of shock 'her ada [father] greatly; more than I remember my own relationship with my father being – more, indeed, than any other such relationship I know of. She loves her mother too, of course, but they are not very similar and have never been as close. And now, Legolas, we shall have to help her through the loss of one she loved dearer than any other…'
And so he explained to the sorrowful Elf the truth of Mithmír's father; and Legolas learned that he should not ever be able to ask the brave Ranger for his daughter's hand in marriage.
***
I have depressed myself again… Ah well, at least most of that was happy! Hope you enjoyed it and please review. I will put more up tomorrow night.
-- Annaicuru
