CRIPPLED PRIZE
by Mizalaye
Chapter Three: Terror and Rage
A slight breeze swept through the courtyard of the royal palace, gently tossing the long, dark hair of the Lady Arwen, Queen of Gondor, as she stood gazing at the sunset. This evening, she found herself out of doors, gazing into the West, remembering her father, Lord Elrond. Though it had been her choice to forsake the immortal life to be with her beloved, at times she longed to hear the sound of her father's voice. She did not regret her choice, but she still spent many an hour living in her memories, and wondering where she would be now, had she chosen the other path.
The sound of footsteps flung Arwen from her reverie. Her elvish ears determined the situation almost before she noted the sound - a soldier of some sort was running towards her.
An arrow of fear plunged into Arwen's heart as the man came into view - he was one of those who had been assigned to Dómiel's guard that afternoon! Though no emotion revealed itself on her face, her hands trembled as she confronted the man.
"My lady!" he exclaimed. "Forgive me for my rude interruption of your thoughts; I must speak with King Elessar at once!"
"The king is in his study," Arwen replied, "but where is my daughter?"
A flush of guilt colored the man's face. "Forgive me, m'lady," he whispered. Without another word, he wheeled and sprinted across the courtyard toward Aragorn's study.
The fear in her heart now coursing through her veins, Arwen hurried after the soldier. With each beat of her heart, the same prayer flowed through her mind - Not Dómiel...Not Dómiel...
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Aragorn glanced up from the documents he had been studying when the soldier burst into the room. "What brings you here so rapidly?" he asked with the air of a man used to calming fears.
"My lord, forgive me!" the soldier cried, dropping to his knees at Aragorn's feet.
"Rise," the king commanded absently. "Why do you beg my forgiveness?"
The man remained on his knees and refused to lift his face toward his king's. "My lord," he said with a note of near panic in his voice. "I...I must tell you. Your daughter, Dómiel...she..." he swallowed convulsively, unable to continue.
The same bolt of fear which had pierced his wife's heart slammed into Aragorn's spirit. "Tell me what happened," he ordered sternly.
His eyes fixed on the floor, the soldier spoke rapidly. "We were attacked by a group of perhaps a score of riders. My commander saw a weakness in their circle, and instructed the princess to ride. I know she escaped their grasp; I saw her ride away. Our squad, however, was outnumbered and surrounded." The man's breath caught in his throat as he added, "I was the only man to escape with my life."
"And the princess?" Aragorn demanded.
The man shook his head miserably. "I searched the area for any trace of her. I found evidence of another group of riders." His voice dropped to a terrified whisper. "I believe she was captured, my lord."
A maelstrom of emotions charged through King Elessar at those words. Unadulterated rage at those who would dare lay a finger on his dear daughter mixed with terror for Dómiel's fate and a heart-breaking sorrow as he thought of what could be done to her. With each of these emotions mixing in his gray eyes, he looked up - and his eyes locked with those of his beloved queen. "Undómiel," he whispered.
"Estel, what...?" Arwen feared the worst, but she could not bring herself to put voice to her fear.
"Captured," Aragorn said softly.
"No!" Heartbreak and fear mixed in her own eyes as Arwen ran to the protective circle of her husband's arms.
Sensing the near-telepathic communication between the couple, the trembling soldier slipped from the room.
Aragorn stood perfectly still for a long moment, embracing his grief-stricken wife. His eyes lay closed and his face rested atop Arwen's head, hiding uncharacteristic emotion which he was incapable of suppressing.
Finally, the king raised his head and gently raised Arwen's chin. Her rich blue eyes locked on his face, and she saw that iron determination had settled in his jaw. His eyes no longer swirled with emotion; rather, they had hardened into a steely gaze that Arwen had seen previously only in battle.
"I shall track her captors down," Aragorn vowed to his wife. "I shall rescue our daughter, and teach whoever has done this frightful thing a lesson on what it means to assault the Princess of Gondor!"
Even as a frightening line of intuition pierced Arwen's senses, she inquired, "How many men shall accompany you, m'lord?"
Aragorn shook his head ever so slightly, confirming his wife's suspicions. "I shall travel alone. This is not a quest for an army; it is a quest for a Ranger."
"And so Strider shall emerge once more," Arwen stated astutely.
Aragorn flinched inwardly at his wife's direct statement. "Indeed. Though, I wish it was under far better circumstances."
"As do I," Arwen whispered.
"By your leave, my lady, I must prepare for my departure," Aragorn said courteously.
"In the light of your errand, my pardon should not even need to be asked," Arwen replied fervently.
With a final bow, Aragorn strode from the room, leaving his elven wife standing alone.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
"Everything has been arranged, my love," Aragorn said softly in the gray light of the following dawn. A passerby unfamiliar with the royal couple might have dismissed the pair in the corner near the stables as merely another couple. A long, gray cloak covered Arwen's rich gown, and the hood obscured her elvish features. Aragorn was clothed in the travel-worn garb of a Ranger, rather than the royal robes of a king. His bow hung over his shoulder, and Andúril hung by his side.
"I have left instructions for finishing all my current tasks with Faramir. He shall carry out my wishes in my absence, but he has been instructed to bring all new questions to you, my love. Please keep my departure a secret as long as you find it wise; I shall need the element of surprise."
"And if Dómiel's captors send a ransom note?" Arwen asked. "What do you wish me to do then, my lord?"
Aragorn thought carefully for a moment. "Postpone answering as long as possible. I do not wish to give in to these foes, so refuse their offer - unless doing so will directly harm our daughter."
Arwen nodded. "I shall do as you have said."
"I must leave you now," Aragorn said softly.
"I know." Gently, Arwen drew her husband's face to her own for a kiss. "I know you shall bring our daughter home, my love. I shall watch for your arrival every day."
Tenderly, Aragorn ran one finger along his wife's jawbone. "I shall think of you every moment; a piece of my heart remains here with you."
"And a piece of my heart travels with you, Estel, my beloved."
"Farewell, my love!"
"Farewell!"
Without another word, Aragorn turned and jogged to the stables. With the ease of long practice, he groomed and saddled his favorite mount. The stable hands were accustomed to the king's abrupt manner, and did not interfere. Leaping aboard his steed, Aragorn trotted swiftly through the gates of the city and out toward the place the soldier had told him Dómiel had vanished.
He had not traveled for more than perhaps five minutes when the sound of hoof-beats met his ears. Immediately, he turned his mount from the path and concealed himself in the trees.
The other horse did not come into view; Aragorn heard the horse halt, but could hear no rider dismount. He held his breath and focused all of his mind on listening and attempting to discern the rider's location. Silence met his ears, and a slight worry began creeping into his mind.
"Well met, Strider of the Dúnedain!" The voice came from not a foot behind Aragorn's head.
Instantly, he whirled, Andúril sweeping in a neat arc before him. The blade met only air as the figure behind him leapt easily aside.
When Aragorn turned his full attention to the figure, he let out the slightest of chuckles. "I should have know it was you. Few other beings in Middle Earth are capable of sneaking up on a Ranger." He did not say this with pride; he merely stated a fact.
Legolas let out a full, ringing laugh. "Indeed! But, then, I was not attempting to sneak up on you!"
"Do not lie to me, friend," Aragorn replied. "My ears are keen enough to pick out the sound of your travel, unless you are attempting to be silent."
Legolas bowed slightly. "You have found me out. I thought to test your instincts."
"May I ask what you determined?" Aragorn asked.
"You are not quite prepared to undertake a quest such as the one you now pursue alone," Legolas retorted, now quite serious.
"This is not a quest for an army, master elf," Aragorn said, repeating the words he had spoken to his wife the evening before. "This is a quest for a Ranger."
"And who shall prevent the Ranger from committing mistakes?"
"Fate." Aragorn dodged the verbal trap.
"I shall not allow you to undertake this mission alone," Legolas stated firmly. "I shall accompany you."
"Can I speak anything to prevent you?" Aragorn asked rhetorically.
"No being prevents an elf from journeying where he wishes," Legolas replied, "least of all a mere human!"
Aragorn smiled slightly and extended a hand. Legolas grasped his forearm in a companionable gesture of warrior's trust.
"Let us hunt together!" Aragorn exclaimed. Rapidly, Legolas ran back along the path toward his mount. Within seconds, the human and the elf rode side by side on their hunt - the latest in a string of hunts that spanned decades and the majority of Middle Earth.
Author's Note: Sorry about the shortness and lack of plot advancement in this chapter. I'm having a bit of writer's block...but it's coming...just slowly. I hope this is enough of a fill-in until I get the next chapter written (which I promise will have more action!)
SapphireRose: Thanks for the encouragement...thanks for your patience...for this story, at least! =o)
littlefish: Yay!!! Thank you soooooo much for actually taking time to review my story! I'm glad you like it so much...as for your questions, the only one I'm going to answer is the one I answered in the chapter - how Aragorn is going to react!!!