For story stats, please see Chapter One.
Once again, I don't own anything here except my original characters and the plot.
-- CHAPTER TWO --
"Estel, darling," Arwen called, gaining her husband's attention. She walked into their private chambers where he was changing into dark leggings and one of his old leather shirts from being a ranger. "Where are you going?"
"Call me Strider, my fair one," Aragorn laughed, pecking her softly on the lips.
"I shall call you my Elfstone, meleth nín, but you did not answer my question."
"I feel the call of the wild, my dearest."
"How is it that I am the elf, yet 'tis you who always feels the call of the wild, Estel?" Arwen asked with a questioning smirk.
"I know not, meleth. Perhaps you block it?"
"I do no such thing," Arwen scolded him, but she laughed afterwards. "Shall I be cliché?"
"Please don't."
"Too bad. I should say, it is true what they say, that you can take the ranger out of the wild, but you cannot take the wild out of a King." She gently rubbed her belly where a new miracle was growing, but still to young to show in its mother's stomach. As a mother, Arwen knew it was there.
"Who says that?" Aragorn questioned, tightening the straps on his boots.
"They do," Arwen replied mysteriously. Her eyes sparkled with mischief.
"Probably one of those roguish twin brothers of yours."
"Perhaps, but perhaps not." Aragorn shook his head and stood up straight, adjusting slightly so the clothes fell comfortably across his shoulders and hips.
"How do I look?"
"Like a dirty old ranger," Arwen teased.
"It was the dirty old ranger you feel in love with, bain nín," Aragorn reminded her.
"Of course it was, Estel," she grinned, lifting herself up so she could press her lips against her husband's. He tried to deepen the kiss but she pulled away. "I thought you were plagued by the call of the wild?"
"It is still there, but so much stronger is the call of your love." Arwen was about to reply when they were interrupted by the children's nursemaid.
"Milord," she bowed slightly. "Prince Eldarion's missin'!" She wrung her hands nervously as the King and Queen exchanged looks.
"Where has he gone to?"
"I know not, m'Lady. No offense, please m'Lady, but t'was tha shifty elf tha took 'im, right out o' the nurs'ry. I was tendin' ta Shalay, and when I turned back, 'e was gone!"
"Who, Legolas?" Arwen asked. "He is perfectly safe, Tiri, he would not hurt Eldarion."
"I jus' can no' trust the elves, m'Lady," Tiri bowed. "I mean no dis'spect."
"It is okay, though I wish there was a way to appease the minds of the people," Arwen sighed, looking pointedly at her husband.
"Yes," Aragorn agreed. "The first step shall be to retrieve Eldarion and prove that spending an extended afternoon with an elf has done him no ill."
"He has be'n talkin' lots about a pond, Milord. Out o' the gard'n, I think."
"Thank you. I'll go search for them," Aragorn nodded. "You are dismissed."
"Thank ye, Milord," Tiri bowed, and then left the room to look after the royal couple's remaining children.
"I suppose I should go find Gimli, for he would like to take a short tramp as well," Aragorn said.
"You know I dislike it when you use the word 'tramp' to describe a walk in the forest," Arwen accused him.
"Yes, I know. I will try not to tramp anything too dear to your heart." Arwen smacked him playfully and then shoved him out of their chambers so that she could change into her sleeping gown in peace. Aragorn made his way towards the guest quarters to find his friend Gimli.
*
King Elessar hushed his companions as they neared the clearing. Gimli, the dwarf, was not too keen on ceasing his complaints about the nuisances of the elves, but he was glad he held his tongue as they entered the small clearing next to a fairly awful smelling pond. He felt Faramir, Elessar's steward and the prince of Ithilien, step up behind him.
About a fathom away, undisturbed by the presence of three new-comers, lay the current object of Gimli's rants and the king's wayward son. Legolas laid on his back, one arm bent behind his head as a sort of pillow, his weapons cast aside neatly to his left. Eldarion, having shifted during his sleep, now laid with his head resting on Legolas' strong chest. One of his arms was wrapped around Legolas' side, and his other hand was gently clutching the silver fabric of Legolas' undershirt where it peaked out from under his tunic. His knees were drawn up to his chest, and stained with something purple. One of Legolas' pale slender hands rested on the boy's back, while the other still rested protectively on his right arm.
"So this is what the elf does while the rest of us labor tirelessly," Gimli commented. "Lay around near stinking ponds and eat... what?"
"Blueberries," Faramir replied, palming a few of the ones uncrushed by Eldarion. "Good ones, too," he said, after popping them into his mouth.
"Arwen will love this," Aragorn grinned as he knelt next to the sleeping boy and elf. He held up one of Eldarion's good tunics, now stained beyond repair with the berry juice.
"Bah, that's what little boys do," Gimli grinned. "Let me assure you that dwarf lads get into worse stuff that berries."
"Have you an instance to share with us, Master Dwarf?" Faramir asked with a laugh.
"I'm sure he has many, but they will have to wait until we return to the castle. The day grows old and I'd rather not be out in the city when darkness falls," Aragorn interrupted. He leaned over to look into Legolas' clouded blue eyes. "Is this how you watch over my son, mellon nín?" he asked.
"With the noise the three of you make, I am sure no foul-minded creature would venture within ten leagues of us," Legolas replied, his eyes never shifting from their blank stare. Aragorn smirked.
"That may be true, but it is also true that the day draws to a close and we should return before Arwen worries about her missing son." Legolas blinked to regain his vision. Gently, Aragorn nudged Eldarion until his tried gray eyes open to look blearily at his father.
"Ada?" he yawned, unwilling to give up his comfortable position.
"It is time to return, Eldi," Aragorn said softly. He grasped the small human under his arms and lifted him up, cradling him in his arms. Eldarion wrapped his legs around his father's waist and his arms around Aragorn's neck, resting his heavy head on the man's shoulder.
"How nice it must be to be that small," Faramir smiled, collecting Eldarion's tunic. After Legolas had stood and gathered his things, the group started making their way back towards the castle.
"It is like being with the hobbits all over again, yet I doubt he eats as much," Gimli added.
"Nay, you might be surprised, Master Dwarf," Legolas argued. "He consumed an immeasurable amount of berries."
"You'll make him sick, Legolas, feeding him all those berries."
"Nonsense," Legolas waved his hand, dismissing the idea. "Blueberries do not make one ill."
"Perhaps not an elf, but they give little boys the runs," Aragorn argued.
"The what?" Legolas looked slightly confused.
"Never mind," Faramir chuckled. "'Tis not something I think you want to be informed of."
"I care not," Legolas insisted, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Look at you," Aragorn inserted, trying to change the subject. He shifted Eldarion so he held him in one arm and reached with the free one to inspect a dark spot on Legolas' tunic. It seemed to be in the shape of a small hand print. Legolas looked down and grimaced.
"Yes, that would be the doing of your son," he said. Aragorn laughed. By this time they had reached the busy part of town, which was still bustling with activity even as Arien left the sky and Tilion[1] began his passing. The small group quickly made their way through the streets towards the secret entrance to the castle that Aragorn, Gimli, and Faramir had used to exit the palace as they started to seek the two princes.
None of the four noticed the dark eyes watching their progress from under a dark hood, though both Aragorn and Legolas sensed the cold glare upon their backs.
tbc…
[1] From The Silmarillion. Two Maiar guide the days and nights; Arien, the sun and Tilion, the moon.