CRIPPLED PRIZE
By Mizalaye
Author's Note: This is my very first attempt at serious Lord of the Rings fanfic, so please review!!! Constructive criticism is welcomed, but flames will be laughed at!
Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings and all its characters belong to Tolkien. Dómiel and Gilraen are both my names, since the wonderful appendix does not name Aragorn's daughters. Can you figure out where I got the younger girl's name?
Chapter One: The Haunting Past
"Father? What's wrong?"
The dark-haired man halted his seemingly endless pacing to kneel before his son. "Do you remember what I told you about your mother having a baby?"
The three-year-old nodded eagerly. "You said the baby was growing inside Mother, and soon he would come out and I could play with him."
The man smiled. "Today, the baby has decided to come out."
"Can I see him yet?" the boy asked, excitement widening his blue eyes.
"Not just yet. Besides, you might have a baby sister."
"Nah. I told Mother I wanted a brother!"
A new voice interrupted the conversation. "My lord!"
With a sigh, the father stood and turned. In that moment, his mindset changed from that of a father answering the concerns of his son to that of King Elessar, answering the concerns of his people.
"My lord, the delegation from Rohan has arrived," the messenger announced.
Aragorn nodded. "See that they are given comfortable quarters. Apologize for my delay, and invite them to dine with me this evening."
"At once, my liege." The messenger bowed quickly and hurried away.
Aragorn turned back to his son. "Now, Eldarion, go find your nursemaid. I fear she is searching for you even now."
"I don't wanna!" Eldarion complained.
Aragorn held up a warning finger. "My son, there are many times we must do things that we do not wish to do. Go find your nursemaid."
The three-year-old trotted away, and Aragorn watched him, though from a distance, ensuring that the boy followed his father's orders. Only when his son was safely under the care of his maid did Aragorn turn his footsteps toward the chambers of his queen.
"My liege," one of Arwen's maids greeted him at the door to Arwen's chamber, "I was leaving to seek you out. You have a beautiful new daughter!"
Aragorn felt a rush of pure, ecstatic joy rush through his veins. "Allow me to see her," he commanded.
For once, however, his order was not obeyed. "Not just yet, I fear, my liege," the maid said kindly. "It shall be soon, but you may not yet enter the birthing chamber."
Though he was unused to his command being denied, Aragorn obediently left the doorway and resumed his pacing - now along the wall of his wife's rooms.
It seemed an entire month had gone by when the maid reappeared around the corner. "The Lady Arwen is asking for you, my liege."
Four of Aragorn's long strides brought him into his wife's chamber. Arwen sat propped up against several white pillows, a white-wrapped bundle in her arms. Her usually pale skin had drained of nearly all color, but, to Aragorn's eyes, she was more beautiful than he had ever seen her. He stopped merely a pace inside the door, content for a long moment to simply drink in the beauty of the woman he had married. "Undómiel," he whispered.
Arwen raised her deep blue eyes to his. "Estel, come greet your daughter."
A light of wonder in his eyes, Aragorn knelt beside the bed and gazed for the first time into the red face of his sleeping newborn daughter. "I shall name her after you, Lady Undómiel," he said lovingly. "I shall name her Dómiel, for, though her beauty shall be wondrous, it shall be outshone by that of her mother, Undómiel."
Arwen smiled gently at her beloved. "It shall be as you have said, dearest lord. She shall be called Dómiel, daughter of Aragorn."
It was fortunate for the warrior's pride in Aragorn that no witnesses lingered in the room, as two silent tears of joy ran from his eyes. "My daughter," he whispered.
One year later
"My liege! My liege!" A soldier of Gondor sprinted through the corridors of the palace as fast as his legs would carry him.
Hearing the cry, Aragorn stood wearily from his seat. "I am here."
"My liege, the city is under siege by orcs!"
Those words stripped all clouds of weariness from Aragorn's body, and he leapt to his feet, hand flying to Andúril, sheathed at his side. "Call all the men to the city walls!" he cried as he ran from the room.
When the king arrived at the walls, he found, much to his relief, that the soldier had overestimated. A small raiding party of orcs, perhaps three score in size, had apparently blundered upon the city and was merely covering their own retreat. Upon Aragorn's arrival, a bare dozen of the loathsome creatures could be seen in the light of the torches that lit the walls.
"Did any man receive injuries?" the king asked the captain of his guard.
"None that have been reported, my lord," the captain replied.
"Double the watch this night," Aragorn ordered. "If any sign of those foul creatures appears, send for me immediately." Not waiting for the captain's reply, he strode back along the wall, anxious to ensure that all his men were safe.
"My liege!"
Weary of the seemingly unending call, Aragorn sighed as he responded, "Who hails me?"
One of Arwen's maids threw herself at the king's feet. "My liege, I come from the Lady Arwen. She begs you to come to her in all haste. Your daughter, Dómiel, has vanished, as has her nursemaid! The Lady is sick with worry..."
Aragorn did not stop long enough to acknowledge the woman. His long strides sending him flying across the ground, he ran at full speed toward Arwen's quarters. He found his wife pacing, tears pooling in her rich blue eyes. "My lord!" she cried when she saw Aragorn. "Estel, have you found her?"
"Where did the nursemaid take her?" Aragorn asked quickly.
"To the wall, I believe," Arwen replied in despair. "She asked to take Dómiel out-of-doors to breathe the fresh air. Then, I heard the horns blow, and the cries of battle, and..."
"Say no more, my beloved." Aragorn rapidly drew his wife into his arms and placed a swift kiss upon her forehead. "I shall find our daughter!" With this vow, he ran from the room.
The little princess' nursemaid was easily found - she lay atop the wall, an orc arrow through her chest. However, the child was not with her. Aragorn led out a party of men to search the area beyond the wall for any trace of his daughter.
It was beyond the wall that Arwen met him. The king carried a small form gently in his arms.
"Dómiel?" Arwen whispered.
Aragorn beheld his wife, fury rising within him. "She is alive," he stated frankly, "but she is...permanently scarred."
Later that night, husband and wife embraced each other tenderly as they stood by the bedside of their eldest daughter, stricken with the terrible knowledge that no further help could be offered her. Only one bit of knowledge consoled them - Dómiel's life had been spared. What sort of a life she would now live, neither parent could tell.
Four years later
"My lord?"
Aragorn sighed and raised his eyes from his work, prepared to answer yet another of the unending questions that it seemed only the king himself could answer properly. What met his eyes, however, brought a smile to his otherwise grim face. "My friends!" he exclaimed, rising to meet them. "Welcome!"
His two guests wore similar smiles as they each gripped his forearm in a companionable greeting.
"Legolas Greenleaf and Gimli the dwarf," Aragorn mused. "It has been long since I have been given the pleasure of housing you within my walls!"
"Too long, Aragorn," Legolas amended.
"Indeed. But, come! I shall have quarters appointed for you, and you must speak with my dear family," Aragorn instructed. "I know Arwen shall be delighted to see both of you again, and you must, of course, meet the children."
"Of course!" Gimli replied. "The last time we had the pleasure of seeing him, Eldarion was so small he could have fit on my arm!"
"And that is quite a feat, when one considers the length of that appendage," Legolas teased.
"It is quite long enough to strike you, master elf," Gimli retorted.
Aragorn laughed aloud, for the first time all day, at the good-natured bickering between the two dear friends. Stopping a servant, he inquired as to the location of his children. Being informed that they were all in the gardens, he led his friends there.
True to Aragorn's prediction, a smile lit Arwen's face the instant she saw the trio. "Legolas and Gimli!" she exclaimed. "It is indeed a pleasure to lay eyes on you once more!"
Both elf and dwarf bowed respectfully to the Queen of Gondor. "It is our pleasure, my lady," Legolas answered for them both.
"I was hoping to allow our children to greet our friends," Aragorn informed Arwen softly.
"Of course," his wife replied. Glancing over her shoulder, she said, "Here they are."
Three children, accompanied by a nursemaid, rounded the corner at a rapid pace, having to slide to a halt when they saw the party.
"Children," Aragorn said proudly. "Allow me to present Legolas Greenleaf and Gimli son of Glóin, my old friends. Friends, allow me to present to you Eldarion, my son, Dómiel my eldest daughter, and Gilraen my youngest daughter."
Legolas and Gimli both bowed respectfully to the prince and princesses, who returned the courtesy. Both elf and dwarf stood still for a moment, studying the three royal children, who stared intently back, having heard many stories of Legolas and Gimli, dear friends who rode one steed and accomplished many wondrous feats, both during the War of the Ring and after.
Eldarion, the heir, was a striking young lad of seven now, with short-cropped, dark hair. He gazed through eyes the color of his mother's, though the thoughtful light in them clearly reflected his father, as did his stance, solid and unyielding, even in youth. Gilraen was the youngest at two, but already an elvish light shone from her features, marking her clearly as being the offspring of an elvish mother.
It was on Dómiel, however, that Legolas and Gimli allowed their gaze to linger the longest. The five-year-old's face shone with the fairness of the elves, but her gray eyes reflected the line of men. The most noticeable characteristic of the child was that she was still held in her nursemaid's arms, despite her age. The loose skirt she wore veiled her small legs from mortal sight, but Legolas the elf could sense a shadow upon her small body.
"You can sense it?" Aragorn asked him softly.
Legolas nodded. "Would it be improper for me to examine the injury?"
"Not at all." Aragorn lifted his daughter into his own arms, dismissed the nursemaid and the other children, and sat the girl down upon one of the myriad benches in the garden. Slowly, he drew back the folds of the girl's skirt, exposing her feet and ankles.
Only an act of supreme will prevented Legolas from flinching at the sight. The poor child's ankles were twisted into angles never meant for them to rest in, causing the feet to be horribly twisted as well. Clearly, the girl had never walked on her deformed feet, for the legs were thin and weak.
"They do not pain me," Dómiel said, speaking for the first time. Catching Legolas' surprised glance, she laughed. "Many who look at my feet ask me that."
"You are quite wise for one so young," Gimli replied, chuckling slightly at his friend's discomposure.
"Thank you," Dómiel said sincerely, sending the remainder of the group into laughter, as well.
"Come, Dómiel," Aragorn said. "It is time for you to rejoin your siblings."
"Yes, father," the girl responded obediently. After bidding her mother and her father's friends farewell, she allowed herself to be lifted once more into her father's strong arms and carried away.
Legolas and Gimli departed from Gondor only three days later, with promises to return quickly. They made good on their vow a mere three weeks after their departure. Upon their return, they presented Aragorn with a gift for his daughter, Dómiel - a specially crafted saddle.
"The child cannot walk," Legolas explained, "but, using this, she may ride, and therefore travel independently of another man's assistance."
Gimli eagerly showed Aragorn the special features the friends had crafted into the saddle - the special back-rest, assisting the girl to keep her balance; the system of straps which would hold the twisted legs in place, keeping her atop the horse; and the carefully crafted stirrups, which were turned in such a way as to support the girl's malformed feet.
"We are aware that she shall not be able to ride for some years yet," Legolas finished, "but, when she is of age, we believe this saddle shall be a great assistance."
Aragorn embraced each of his old friends firmly. "Legolas and Gimli," he said, "this day you have gifted both my daughter and myself. I will ensure that Dómiel knows her benefactors, and I am certain this gift shall be well-used."
"That is our only request," Gimli stated. "If she does not use it, it is a wasted gift!"
"Use it she shall, Master Dwarf," Aragorn responded. "You have given my daughter the gift of freedom, and she will thank you for it when the time comes for her to accept it!"
Author's Note: Sorry if this chapter seems a bit abrupt. I had to cover a rather long amount of time, and I didn't want to drag it out too long. I promise I'll get into more action in the next chapters!