A.N. I'm not even going to attempt to apologise for not updating for this
long because I doubt even grovelling will make up for it. *grovels* Suffice
to say exams, muses and various other things got in the way, but now
hopefully updates should return to every two-four weeks depending on the
chapter length and other interference.
A few dedications for this chapter: first to 'The Ill-Made Mute' by Cecilia Dart-Thornton which really helped me think from Rhachsell's point-of-view. It's a wonderful book and I strongly recommend it.
To the wonderful Encyclopedia of Arda for giving me info on cows and rabbits when I needed it. For all your Middle-earth queries I'd recommend it.
And finally, to all you readers, who haven't found me, tied me to a chair and pelted me with rotten fruit to make me write more. You deserve a writer who updates more often and I'll really try from now on. ^_^ To prove it another chapter will uploaded within the next few hours - it's in the works as I type this.
Few final things: To Bleeding Black and White: I explained Anira's colour as an effect of the travel between worlds at the end of 'Weyr of the Lost'. It was mainly because I was torn between giving Legolas a green or a bronze firelizard. ^__^
Yes I do hate movie-Arwen, one of the few things I dislike about the movies. However I like book-Arwen (nowhere near as cool as Eowyn but still better than Liv Tyler) and I've attempted to make Arwen slightly more likeable in this chapter, even if she does... *reminds herself not to give the plot away* So I've tried to give Arwen a better reason for her actions.
Hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter, and keep an eye out for the next one to be uploaded in the next few hours.
Thanks for your patience!
Cloudy
~
Chapter Seven - Running
"Legolas! LEGOLAS!"
The elf stirred and blinked sleep-glazed eyes. The yelling from outside the door was accompanied by someone banging their fist enthusiastically - or desperately - against the solid wood. Legolas swung out of bed, ignoring his crumpled clothes and stalked over to see what the emergency was.
He yanked the door open more violently than was really necessary - he hated being woken early - and Aragorn stumbled past him, almost tripping over his feet. Legolas' irritation vanished instantly when he noticed the man's tangled hair, unshaven face, heavy panting suggesting he'd run to Legolas' rooms. It looked like Aragorn had been dragged out of bed too.
"What's wrong?" the elf king asked warily. Wine may not affect elves like it affected men but he'd still drunk far too much last night and Aragorn had been several glasses ahead of him by the time he'd finally retired to his rooms. If something had gotten the king up this early then that something was going to be trouble.
"Rhachsell," Aragorn gasped as he caught his breath and Legolas' heart plummeted. Gondor's king glanced up at the elf, eyes haunted.
"She's gone."
Legolas had to wait for a moment to let the words sink in. Rhachsell. Gone. Again.
"Wh- who-," he started, forcing himself to ask but Aragorn shook his head, holding up a hand to stop the elf.
"We don't know, but if someone kidnapped her then they've managed to take Faroth as well - and that would be impossible."
Legolas swallowed, fist clenching his sides. "Then how-"
"Legolas," Aragorn cut him off and swallowed. "I - Arwen and I - we had an argument last night, in our rooms. I said some things I never would have said in front of Rhachsell. I thought - we were alone! I couldn't have known."
"Known what?!" Legolas' voice was icy. Aragorn swallowed again and reached into his tunic pocket. When he withdrew his hand, it was clenched around a silver tiara.
"It was under the bed," Gondor's king said softly. "Rhachsell wasn't kidnapped Legolas - she ran. Because of me."
The elf-king stared at him for a long moment, then turned and walked towards the door.
"Where're you going?" Aragorn asked hesitantly, already knowing the answer. The look Legolas cast back at him was full of contempt.
"I'm going to find my daughter."
~
Rhachsell was cold and tired and still hurt when Faroth began to spiral downwards. /"Faroth! What are you doing?"/ she demanded furiously. /"We have to get as far away as we can!"/
/And you falling off and breaking your neck will accomplish that how?"/ the dragon replied calmly. /You need sleep and food, in that order."/ They'd left Minas Tirith over three hours ago and the sky in the east was streaked with rose and gold - dawn was less than an hour away.
"Food would be good," Rhachsell mumbled aloud, for the first time since her escape feeling a cramp of hunger. Faroth back-winged and landed lightly beside a small wood.
/"Sleep first."/ The dragon crouched to let her slide off, folding his wings so they didn't snag on the nearest tree. /"I'll see what I can catch for us to eat."/
"We'll need a fire-" Rhachsell yawned mid-sentence and Faroth turned his head to give her a sharp nudge towards the trees.
/"Go sleep. I'll take care of food and fire."/
/"Thanks Faroth."/ Rhachsell yawned again as she stumbled into the wood, glancing around for somewhere comfortable. Choosing a hollow at the base of a tall tree, she lay down, half burying herself with handfuls of leaves, and was asleep almost instantly.
Outside the wood, Faroth waited until his rider's thoughts calmed to a sleepy murmur before taking off again. He circled the wood once to fix the place in his mind then let the wind blow him south towards the open fields now glowing golden in the approaching sunrise.
Surprised, he noted a small village on the horizon - barely visible from this distance but he caught faint smells of cooking fires and livestock. If he had no luck hunting perhaps they could beg some food there later. Turning his attention to the ground, he watched for movement.
A short while later he had two rabbits and a slightly charred blackbird that had mocked him when he missed his dive for a weasel. Feeling vaguely guilty for loosing his temper but very smug at his catch, he snared the three corpses in his talons and soared off back to the wood, enjoying the morning sun on his back.
~
Legolas stamped down the corridor, partly out of anger and partly to get his foot into his left boot - he had dressed in a hurry and for once he didn't care that his tunic was creased and his hair tangled. Anira fluttered around his head, occasionally diving at people who got in the way with furious shrieks. All around them were busy servants, hurrying guards, all on some personal quest or involved in some menial job. Legolas ignored them; didn't even see them until he reached the courtyard where Faroth had slept and saw a guard looking around.
Striding up to the unsuspecting man, the Elf-king grabbed him by his tunic and slammed him against the side wall, lifting him several inches off the ground. "Were you on duty last night?!"
The man's face was swiftly turning purple. "I-argh-'es." His eyes frantically tracked Anira as she hovered above his head, hissing like an enraged cat.
"Did you see my daughter leave?!"
The man's gaze flicked from the fire lizard to the enraged elf, his hands scrabbling desperately for purchase on the smooth stone at his back. "Umph.'o."
"What?!!"
".No.argh."
Legolas slammed him against the wall again. /"Why not?!"/
The oxygen-deprived guard was beginning to see spots dancing in front of his eyes, but managed to lift a hand and point to a guard sitting slumped beside the tinkling fountain.
Dropping the man he held, Legolas turned and reached the fountain in a few strides. Reaching down he hauled the guard to his feet.
"Who're you?" he demanded. "Did you see my daughter last night?!"
The guard swallowed, but met the elf's gaze squarely. "I am Nahar. I was assigned to guard the Lady Rhachsell along with my partner, Bucca." He pointed to the man Legolas had half-strangled, now sitting slumped against the wall, catching his breath. "Last night we followed your daughter out here, where she sat with her dragon for a while."
"Did you hear what they said?" demanded Legolas. Nahar managed to look highly offended, despite the fact the elf was lifting him almost off the ground and his face was half buried in his tunic.
"We are trained King's guards," he answered stiffly. "We don't eavesdrop on private conversations."
Legolas mentally swore in a mixture of Elvish and Westron - he wanted to know if Rhachsell had been planning this escapade or if it had really been caused by Aragorn. "Continue."
Nahar swallowed again, wishing the elf would put him down. "After a while - about twenty minutes or so - she left the dragon and came back inside, apparently heading back to the banquet hall so we followed her. A minute later..." He trailed off uncertainly.
"What?!" demanded Legolas.
"She vanished. One minute she was walking, the next she simply wasn't there anymore."
Legolas frowned, deep in thought. "Faroth," he muttered under his breath then reluctantly released his hold on Nahar's tunic. With a sigh of relief the guard stood up straight.
"What did you do then?" the Elf-king asked, slightly more courteous now he knew Rhachsell had avoided the guards deliberately. Nahar cleared his throat.
"Well we didn't really know what had happened, so Bucca went in search of King Aragorn while I returned here to check on the dragon. As I opened the door I saw him take off with the Lady Rhachsell - I assumed they were just going out for a short flight, I never thought.. I mean why.."
"Which way did she go?!" Legolas snapped urgently, fighting the desire the shake the guard. Nahar pointed north-west towards Rohan.
"That's as good a direction I could see in the dark. They could have circled and gone south once they were out of sight." Miserably the man dropped his eyes to the ground. "I'm sorry Lord Legolas."
Legolas didn't even hear him - the elf was already turning away towards the palace stables. Ten minutes later there was a clatter of hooves on stone and a lone rider galloped away towards the north gate of the city.
~
"My lord!"
Aragorn flinched, anticipating bad news as he turned from the maps spread over the table. Around him his advisors glanced up anxiously. "What now?!"
The messenger stumbled into the throne room and sank to his knees on the floor, too out of breath to bow. "King Legolas just left the city on horseback!"
The news took a moment to sink in. "That's all we need!" Aragorn groaned and gathered up the maps hastily, scattering a few to the floor. Lindir, his Lord Chamberlain, hesitantly cleared his throat.
"My lord, where are you going?" he inquired mildly. "Lord Legolas was a guest and rude as it is to leave the Citadel without your permission, if you go chasing after him like a wayward child, the people will be most unsettled. You were almost killed two weeks ago - anything out of the ordinary now could cause chaos."
By the door the messenger crouched lower, hoping to avoid notice as he listened interestedly to the argument.
"Then what I am to do, sit here kicking my heels until I die of old age or boredom?" Aragorn snapped. "Legolas is my friend; I /must/ help him find his daughter!"
"At the expense of your kingdom?" demanded Agrippa, the general in charge of the city guards. "You are /King/. You have higher responsibilities than a runaway child!"
Aragorn looked beseechingly around at his assembled advisors and found most nodding at what Lindir and Agrippa had said. Furious, he flung the maps away, rounding on the men, angry because he knew they were right.
"You're supposed to be my advisors, not my nursemaids! Do not tell me what I can /not/ do, tell me what I an!" He lowered his voice, aware he had been almost shouting. "What excuse can I give for leaving the city now?"
Uneasy looks were exchanged and Aragorn narrowed his eyes dangerously. Eventually Lindir spoke.
"I suppose. you could say you were visiting Lord Faramir in Emyn Arnen," he said dubiously. "For his aid in helping you find the assassin..."
"Do it!" Aragorn ordered, turning to leave the room. "I'll be in my rooms if you need me before I leave. Have my horse and a score of guards ready to leave within the hour."
"But my lord-"
/"Just do it!"/
"Of course milord."
Aragorn strode out the room, past the messenger who bowed respectfully with a murmured, 'My lord," and down the hallway towards his rooms. With a furtive glance towards the advisors now gathered anxiously together, the messenger slipped out the room and jogged briskly off in the opposite direction to Aragorn.
~
Aragorn slammed the door to his room open, venting his frustration on the painted wood. It left a dent in the plaster of the wall as it bounced off and the king frowned, half guilty, half relieved that it had made him feel better.
"If you've quite finished destroying the Citadel.."
Arwen stepped out from behind the bed, smoothing her silvery blue gown as she walked over to her husband. Instead of the welcoming kiss he expected, all he got was an icy blue glare.
"You're leaving." It was a statement, not a question.
"I have to," Aragorn replied, brushing past her. Reaching the wardrobe he opened it and began hunting through the neatly hung clothes impatiently. Pieces of clothing were thrown aside in his haste and Arwen caught one of her shoes as it flew past.
"Aragorn," she said firmly, putting the shoe down on the bed. She got no response - her husband had his head buried under a pile of coats as he looked for his boots. "Estel!"
"Mfph?"
Out of patience, the elf queen strode across the room and hauled him out the cupboard by the back of his jacket. "Listen to me for once! You can't leave."
Aragorn glared at her through the strands of hair that had fallen over his face. "Why not?"
His wife raised an elegant eyebrow, her expression calm and blank. "Just a few weeks ago you were nearly assassinated. If you leave now the people will see it as you running from danger! They'll panic, think you're not telling them everything. There'll be-"
"Chaos! I know!" Aragorn threw the boots in his hand across the room, leaving another dent in the abused wall. "I heard all this once! We've agreed to tell the people I'm visiting Faramir for his help in finding the assassin."
"Oh, and that doesn't sound like the flimsy excuse it so obviously is," Arwen said sarcastically. "And when were you going to ask me about this Estel? You clearly aren't taking me with you again. Don't I get a say in the matter?"
"You don't get a say in the matter since it was your biased and pointless arguing that drove Rhachsell away in the first place!" Aragorn snapped. He regretted the words a second later when Arwen flinched away from him. "Look. I didn't mean-"
"You said it because you meant it" the elf-queen answered softly, rubbing her eyes with the back of one hand. The un-elf-like gesture said far more about her hurt feelings than words could and Aragorn hesitantly slid his arms around her shoulders, drawing her close to him.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly, breathing in the sweet flower-scent of her hair. "It's just Legolas is my friend. and with all these banquets and the assassination attempt my nerves are frayed. I didn't mean to snap at you."
"And what about all the other times you've snapped at me lately?" Arwen pushed him away gently, her expression calm. "All the times you've ignored my advice or refused my requests? I asked you not to bring Rhachsell to Gondor, I asked you not to make me interact with her in any way. You know my family's history. Legolas' daughter.. You've asked me to go against my family's honour by associating with a creature that should never have been and I simply can't do that." Arwen's expressive eyes implored Aragorn to understand. "You're making me chose between my honour and you. I'm alone here - my honour is all I have left Aragorn."
"Arwen."
"No, you don't understand!" The elf turned away in frustration. "I never should have tried to explain - forget I said anything. Leave, again."
Aragorn stood silently for a moment, all his anger gone. "You're wrong you know," he said after a moment.
"Oh REALLY?!" Arwen swung to face him, eyes wide in fury. "How am I wrong?! Because I'm not a man? Because I'm only your wife and therefore not as credible as that useless crowd of advisors who swarm round you? Because I care if my husband vanishes for months to a world filled with dragons while I'm left to explain to your people that you may not be coming home, or because-"
"-because you have more than just your honour left," Aragorn finished softly, catching her slender hands in his. "You have me."
"Do I?" Arwen murmured sadly. "Do I really Estel? Ever since you returned from Pern you've chosen Legolas and his daughter over me."
Aragorn swallowed, suddenly afraid of where the conversation was going. "Arwen, circumstances may have pulled us apart more than we'd like in this past year or so, but you're my wife - no bond of friendship is deeper than that. I'm not /choosing/ anyone!"
"Well maybe it's time you started." Arwen's tone was flat, her blue eyes shadowed as she stared at her husband. "Choose."
There was no hint of humour in those clear eyes; no quiver of a smile on her lips. She was serious. Aragorn looked at her in disbelief.
"What?"
"Choose. Your wife or Legolas."
Aragorn took a step back, dizzy, disbelieving. "Arwen, I can't-"
/"Choose!"/
A long moment of silence. Then, swallowing against the hard lump in his throat, Aragorn turned towards the door.
"I can't... I can't abandon Legolas and Rhachsell," he whispered hoarsely, eyes closed tight against the threatening tears and the disbelief on the elf queen's face. "I can't. I'm... sorry."
Arwen watched him leave, listened to the door click shut behind him, before sinking silently down to the bed, head bowed. One slender hand slid down to rest on her stomach as tears stained the silvery silk of her gown.
"It's just you and me now little one," she whispered.
A few dedications for this chapter: first to 'The Ill-Made Mute' by Cecilia Dart-Thornton which really helped me think from Rhachsell's point-of-view. It's a wonderful book and I strongly recommend it.
To the wonderful Encyclopedia of Arda for giving me info on cows and rabbits when I needed it. For all your Middle-earth queries I'd recommend it.
And finally, to all you readers, who haven't found me, tied me to a chair and pelted me with rotten fruit to make me write more. You deserve a writer who updates more often and I'll really try from now on. ^_^ To prove it another chapter will uploaded within the next few hours - it's in the works as I type this.
Few final things: To Bleeding Black and White: I explained Anira's colour as an effect of the travel between worlds at the end of 'Weyr of the Lost'. It was mainly because I was torn between giving Legolas a green or a bronze firelizard. ^__^
Yes I do hate movie-Arwen, one of the few things I dislike about the movies. However I like book-Arwen (nowhere near as cool as Eowyn but still better than Liv Tyler) and I've attempted to make Arwen slightly more likeable in this chapter, even if she does... *reminds herself not to give the plot away* So I've tried to give Arwen a better reason for her actions.
Hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter, and keep an eye out for the next one to be uploaded in the next few hours.
Thanks for your patience!
Cloudy
~
Chapter Seven - Running
"Legolas! LEGOLAS!"
The elf stirred and blinked sleep-glazed eyes. The yelling from outside the door was accompanied by someone banging their fist enthusiastically - or desperately - against the solid wood. Legolas swung out of bed, ignoring his crumpled clothes and stalked over to see what the emergency was.
He yanked the door open more violently than was really necessary - he hated being woken early - and Aragorn stumbled past him, almost tripping over his feet. Legolas' irritation vanished instantly when he noticed the man's tangled hair, unshaven face, heavy panting suggesting he'd run to Legolas' rooms. It looked like Aragorn had been dragged out of bed too.
"What's wrong?" the elf king asked warily. Wine may not affect elves like it affected men but he'd still drunk far too much last night and Aragorn had been several glasses ahead of him by the time he'd finally retired to his rooms. If something had gotten the king up this early then that something was going to be trouble.
"Rhachsell," Aragorn gasped as he caught his breath and Legolas' heart plummeted. Gondor's king glanced up at the elf, eyes haunted.
"She's gone."
Legolas had to wait for a moment to let the words sink in. Rhachsell. Gone. Again.
"Wh- who-," he started, forcing himself to ask but Aragorn shook his head, holding up a hand to stop the elf.
"We don't know, but if someone kidnapped her then they've managed to take Faroth as well - and that would be impossible."
Legolas swallowed, fist clenching his sides. "Then how-"
"Legolas," Aragorn cut him off and swallowed. "I - Arwen and I - we had an argument last night, in our rooms. I said some things I never would have said in front of Rhachsell. I thought - we were alone! I couldn't have known."
"Known what?!" Legolas' voice was icy. Aragorn swallowed again and reached into his tunic pocket. When he withdrew his hand, it was clenched around a silver tiara.
"It was under the bed," Gondor's king said softly. "Rhachsell wasn't kidnapped Legolas - she ran. Because of me."
The elf-king stared at him for a long moment, then turned and walked towards the door.
"Where're you going?" Aragorn asked hesitantly, already knowing the answer. The look Legolas cast back at him was full of contempt.
"I'm going to find my daughter."
~
Rhachsell was cold and tired and still hurt when Faroth began to spiral downwards. /"Faroth! What are you doing?"/ she demanded furiously. /"We have to get as far away as we can!"/
/And you falling off and breaking your neck will accomplish that how?"/ the dragon replied calmly. /You need sleep and food, in that order."/ They'd left Minas Tirith over three hours ago and the sky in the east was streaked with rose and gold - dawn was less than an hour away.
"Food would be good," Rhachsell mumbled aloud, for the first time since her escape feeling a cramp of hunger. Faroth back-winged and landed lightly beside a small wood.
/"Sleep first."/ The dragon crouched to let her slide off, folding his wings so they didn't snag on the nearest tree. /"I'll see what I can catch for us to eat."/
"We'll need a fire-" Rhachsell yawned mid-sentence and Faroth turned his head to give her a sharp nudge towards the trees.
/"Go sleep. I'll take care of food and fire."/
/"Thanks Faroth."/ Rhachsell yawned again as she stumbled into the wood, glancing around for somewhere comfortable. Choosing a hollow at the base of a tall tree, she lay down, half burying herself with handfuls of leaves, and was asleep almost instantly.
Outside the wood, Faroth waited until his rider's thoughts calmed to a sleepy murmur before taking off again. He circled the wood once to fix the place in his mind then let the wind blow him south towards the open fields now glowing golden in the approaching sunrise.
Surprised, he noted a small village on the horizon - barely visible from this distance but he caught faint smells of cooking fires and livestock. If he had no luck hunting perhaps they could beg some food there later. Turning his attention to the ground, he watched for movement.
A short while later he had two rabbits and a slightly charred blackbird that had mocked him when he missed his dive for a weasel. Feeling vaguely guilty for loosing his temper but very smug at his catch, he snared the three corpses in his talons and soared off back to the wood, enjoying the morning sun on his back.
~
Legolas stamped down the corridor, partly out of anger and partly to get his foot into his left boot - he had dressed in a hurry and for once he didn't care that his tunic was creased and his hair tangled. Anira fluttered around his head, occasionally diving at people who got in the way with furious shrieks. All around them were busy servants, hurrying guards, all on some personal quest or involved in some menial job. Legolas ignored them; didn't even see them until he reached the courtyard where Faroth had slept and saw a guard looking around.
Striding up to the unsuspecting man, the Elf-king grabbed him by his tunic and slammed him against the side wall, lifting him several inches off the ground. "Were you on duty last night?!"
The man's face was swiftly turning purple. "I-argh-'es." His eyes frantically tracked Anira as she hovered above his head, hissing like an enraged cat.
"Did you see my daughter leave?!"
The man's gaze flicked from the fire lizard to the enraged elf, his hands scrabbling desperately for purchase on the smooth stone at his back. "Umph.'o."
"What?!!"
".No.argh."
Legolas slammed him against the wall again. /"Why not?!"/
The oxygen-deprived guard was beginning to see spots dancing in front of his eyes, but managed to lift a hand and point to a guard sitting slumped beside the tinkling fountain.
Dropping the man he held, Legolas turned and reached the fountain in a few strides. Reaching down he hauled the guard to his feet.
"Who're you?" he demanded. "Did you see my daughter last night?!"
The guard swallowed, but met the elf's gaze squarely. "I am Nahar. I was assigned to guard the Lady Rhachsell along with my partner, Bucca." He pointed to the man Legolas had half-strangled, now sitting slumped against the wall, catching his breath. "Last night we followed your daughter out here, where she sat with her dragon for a while."
"Did you hear what they said?" demanded Legolas. Nahar managed to look highly offended, despite the fact the elf was lifting him almost off the ground and his face was half buried in his tunic.
"We are trained King's guards," he answered stiffly. "We don't eavesdrop on private conversations."
Legolas mentally swore in a mixture of Elvish and Westron - he wanted to know if Rhachsell had been planning this escapade or if it had really been caused by Aragorn. "Continue."
Nahar swallowed again, wishing the elf would put him down. "After a while - about twenty minutes or so - she left the dragon and came back inside, apparently heading back to the banquet hall so we followed her. A minute later..." He trailed off uncertainly.
"What?!" demanded Legolas.
"She vanished. One minute she was walking, the next she simply wasn't there anymore."
Legolas frowned, deep in thought. "Faroth," he muttered under his breath then reluctantly released his hold on Nahar's tunic. With a sigh of relief the guard stood up straight.
"What did you do then?" the Elf-king asked, slightly more courteous now he knew Rhachsell had avoided the guards deliberately. Nahar cleared his throat.
"Well we didn't really know what had happened, so Bucca went in search of King Aragorn while I returned here to check on the dragon. As I opened the door I saw him take off with the Lady Rhachsell - I assumed they were just going out for a short flight, I never thought.. I mean why.."
"Which way did she go?!" Legolas snapped urgently, fighting the desire the shake the guard. Nahar pointed north-west towards Rohan.
"That's as good a direction I could see in the dark. They could have circled and gone south once they were out of sight." Miserably the man dropped his eyes to the ground. "I'm sorry Lord Legolas."
Legolas didn't even hear him - the elf was already turning away towards the palace stables. Ten minutes later there was a clatter of hooves on stone and a lone rider galloped away towards the north gate of the city.
~
"My lord!"
Aragorn flinched, anticipating bad news as he turned from the maps spread over the table. Around him his advisors glanced up anxiously. "What now?!"
The messenger stumbled into the throne room and sank to his knees on the floor, too out of breath to bow. "King Legolas just left the city on horseback!"
The news took a moment to sink in. "That's all we need!" Aragorn groaned and gathered up the maps hastily, scattering a few to the floor. Lindir, his Lord Chamberlain, hesitantly cleared his throat.
"My lord, where are you going?" he inquired mildly. "Lord Legolas was a guest and rude as it is to leave the Citadel without your permission, if you go chasing after him like a wayward child, the people will be most unsettled. You were almost killed two weeks ago - anything out of the ordinary now could cause chaos."
By the door the messenger crouched lower, hoping to avoid notice as he listened interestedly to the argument.
"Then what I am to do, sit here kicking my heels until I die of old age or boredom?" Aragorn snapped. "Legolas is my friend; I /must/ help him find his daughter!"
"At the expense of your kingdom?" demanded Agrippa, the general in charge of the city guards. "You are /King/. You have higher responsibilities than a runaway child!"
Aragorn looked beseechingly around at his assembled advisors and found most nodding at what Lindir and Agrippa had said. Furious, he flung the maps away, rounding on the men, angry because he knew they were right.
"You're supposed to be my advisors, not my nursemaids! Do not tell me what I can /not/ do, tell me what I an!" He lowered his voice, aware he had been almost shouting. "What excuse can I give for leaving the city now?"
Uneasy looks were exchanged and Aragorn narrowed his eyes dangerously. Eventually Lindir spoke.
"I suppose. you could say you were visiting Lord Faramir in Emyn Arnen," he said dubiously. "For his aid in helping you find the assassin..."
"Do it!" Aragorn ordered, turning to leave the room. "I'll be in my rooms if you need me before I leave. Have my horse and a score of guards ready to leave within the hour."
"But my lord-"
/"Just do it!"/
"Of course milord."
Aragorn strode out the room, past the messenger who bowed respectfully with a murmured, 'My lord," and down the hallway towards his rooms. With a furtive glance towards the advisors now gathered anxiously together, the messenger slipped out the room and jogged briskly off in the opposite direction to Aragorn.
~
Aragorn slammed the door to his room open, venting his frustration on the painted wood. It left a dent in the plaster of the wall as it bounced off and the king frowned, half guilty, half relieved that it had made him feel better.
"If you've quite finished destroying the Citadel.."
Arwen stepped out from behind the bed, smoothing her silvery blue gown as she walked over to her husband. Instead of the welcoming kiss he expected, all he got was an icy blue glare.
"You're leaving." It was a statement, not a question.
"I have to," Aragorn replied, brushing past her. Reaching the wardrobe he opened it and began hunting through the neatly hung clothes impatiently. Pieces of clothing were thrown aside in his haste and Arwen caught one of her shoes as it flew past.
"Aragorn," she said firmly, putting the shoe down on the bed. She got no response - her husband had his head buried under a pile of coats as he looked for his boots. "Estel!"
"Mfph?"
Out of patience, the elf queen strode across the room and hauled him out the cupboard by the back of his jacket. "Listen to me for once! You can't leave."
Aragorn glared at her through the strands of hair that had fallen over his face. "Why not?"
His wife raised an elegant eyebrow, her expression calm and blank. "Just a few weeks ago you were nearly assassinated. If you leave now the people will see it as you running from danger! They'll panic, think you're not telling them everything. There'll be-"
"Chaos! I know!" Aragorn threw the boots in his hand across the room, leaving another dent in the abused wall. "I heard all this once! We've agreed to tell the people I'm visiting Faramir for his help in finding the assassin."
"Oh, and that doesn't sound like the flimsy excuse it so obviously is," Arwen said sarcastically. "And when were you going to ask me about this Estel? You clearly aren't taking me with you again. Don't I get a say in the matter?"
"You don't get a say in the matter since it was your biased and pointless arguing that drove Rhachsell away in the first place!" Aragorn snapped. He regretted the words a second later when Arwen flinched away from him. "Look. I didn't mean-"
"You said it because you meant it" the elf-queen answered softly, rubbing her eyes with the back of one hand. The un-elf-like gesture said far more about her hurt feelings than words could and Aragorn hesitantly slid his arms around her shoulders, drawing her close to him.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly, breathing in the sweet flower-scent of her hair. "It's just Legolas is my friend. and with all these banquets and the assassination attempt my nerves are frayed. I didn't mean to snap at you."
"And what about all the other times you've snapped at me lately?" Arwen pushed him away gently, her expression calm. "All the times you've ignored my advice or refused my requests? I asked you not to bring Rhachsell to Gondor, I asked you not to make me interact with her in any way. You know my family's history. Legolas' daughter.. You've asked me to go against my family's honour by associating with a creature that should never have been and I simply can't do that." Arwen's expressive eyes implored Aragorn to understand. "You're making me chose between my honour and you. I'm alone here - my honour is all I have left Aragorn."
"Arwen."
"No, you don't understand!" The elf turned away in frustration. "I never should have tried to explain - forget I said anything. Leave, again."
Aragorn stood silently for a moment, all his anger gone. "You're wrong you know," he said after a moment.
"Oh REALLY?!" Arwen swung to face him, eyes wide in fury. "How am I wrong?! Because I'm not a man? Because I'm only your wife and therefore not as credible as that useless crowd of advisors who swarm round you? Because I care if my husband vanishes for months to a world filled with dragons while I'm left to explain to your people that you may not be coming home, or because-"
"-because you have more than just your honour left," Aragorn finished softly, catching her slender hands in his. "You have me."
"Do I?" Arwen murmured sadly. "Do I really Estel? Ever since you returned from Pern you've chosen Legolas and his daughter over me."
Aragorn swallowed, suddenly afraid of where the conversation was going. "Arwen, circumstances may have pulled us apart more than we'd like in this past year or so, but you're my wife - no bond of friendship is deeper than that. I'm not /choosing/ anyone!"
"Well maybe it's time you started." Arwen's tone was flat, her blue eyes shadowed as she stared at her husband. "Choose."
There was no hint of humour in those clear eyes; no quiver of a smile on her lips. She was serious. Aragorn looked at her in disbelief.
"What?"
"Choose. Your wife or Legolas."
Aragorn took a step back, dizzy, disbelieving. "Arwen, I can't-"
/"Choose!"/
A long moment of silence. Then, swallowing against the hard lump in his throat, Aragorn turned towards the door.
"I can't... I can't abandon Legolas and Rhachsell," he whispered hoarsely, eyes closed tight against the threatening tears and the disbelief on the elf queen's face. "I can't. I'm... sorry."
Arwen watched him leave, listened to the door click shut behind him, before sinking silently down to the bed, head bowed. One slender hand slid down to rest on her stomach as tears stained the silvery silk of her gown.
"It's just you and me now little one," she whispered.
