Aragorn's Sorrow
By EmptyWord


Author's Notes: Sorry this took so long to get posted! And thanks to those who reviewed! On to the story!

Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings is the property of John Ronald Reuel Tolkein, Christopher Tolkein, Allen & Unwin, Ballantine Books, Houghton-Mifflin, and innumerable others. My name does not appear anywhere on the list. No monetary profit is intended in the writing of this story.


Chapter Two: The Decision Sealed

Arwen wandered through the garden, picking her way through small, elegant flowers that had opened their petals for the day. The scenery was breath-taking, but her thoughts were occupied by a certain blonde-haired, blue-eyed Elf.

He was so kind, his smile warm as the sun that shone above her and his voice as soothing as the gentle breeze that trailed past her. He had always, always stayed with her in her loneliness, even through the night and into the morning. There was nothing he hadn't done for her, and she was ever grateful.

Arwen couldn't help but contrast him with Aragorn. Heled brought such happiness and light with him, while Aragorn was more of a quiet, estranged man. Heled was the light, the day, the sunshine. Aragorn was the darkness, the night, the storm. Heled was more open, while Aragorn was closed.

Arwen could never deny that she loved Aragorn. She loved him too much for her own good, and now she was paying the price. Aragorn apparently was not so fond of her as she of him, evident now that he hadn't come to visit her or send word to her for so long. Yet even so, Arwen could not stop loving him. But neither could she suffer it any longer. She yearned not only to love, but to also be loved.

Her thoughts drifted back to Heled. She longed to see him again, to settle safely in his embrace. She would never feel as much for him as for Aragorn, there wasn't a doubt about that. On the other hand, Heled offered comfort and safety and stability that she was hard-pressed to resist. And she had no wish to resist anymore.

"Lady Undomiel?" a gentle, melodic voice reached her ears.

Startled, Arwen turned. She found the very object of her thoughts standing amidst the flowers and the sunshine, a smile gracing his lips.

Her dark brown eyes brightened and a delighted smile spread across her face. "Heled!" She quickly stepped towards him.

Heled enveloped her in his arms. "Why, I haven't seen that smile in a long time, Arwen!" he exclaimed, looking down at her affectionately.

"Then you should visit me more often!" she replied, laughing.

He gave her a curious, searching look. "You're so happy today," he remarked quietly.

"Shouldn't I be?" said Arwen.

"What of..." Heled hesitated, then continued, "What of Aragorn? Is he-is he returning soon?" For a second, there seemed to be an unusual glint in his eyes, but if there was, it was gone immediately.

A spear of sorrow pierced her heart, but she hid it, ignoring it. "And what of him?" Arwen said softly, suppressing the image of Aragorn that threatened to overshadow all her other thoughts. "He is gone. And it is foolish to wait on the past when a promising future looms ahead."

Heled's gaze was penetrating. "You do not wait anymore?"

Arwen sighed, but she had made her decision. "No longer can I bear the burden of waiting," she whispered, her eyes staring at something far away.

"I would not make you wait," he said softly, taking her soft, smooth hand. His eyes gazed into hers, questioning, seeking for permission.

"I know." Slowly, Arwen nodded her head at his unasked question, granting him permission.

He lowered his lips, eyes locked with hers. He wrapped his hands around her neck, and was suddenly very close, his breath tickling her nose.

Arwen tilted her face upwards, resolute in her final decision. Heled's eyes were not Aragorn's, but they were striking cobalt gems that many maidens would have fallen in love with. Her own eyes fell closed as his lips touched hers.

Their kiss was gentle, a brief contact of the lips. But it sealed her decision so firmly she was slightly shaken.

Heled smiled at her tenderly. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and in unspoken unison, they continued to stroll through the garden, not one daring to break the peaceful quiet.


A couple days later...

"This very afternoon?"

Aragorn glanced at Legolas with an amused expression on his face. "Yes," he drawled. "This very afternoon. Why do you look so...disappointed? I believe it was you who continuously pestered me to leave my post at Gondor."

Legolas blinked his shock away. "I am not disappointed!" he retorted. "Of course I am pleased that you will be going back to Rivendell today. I'm just a bit surprised. Despite all my urging, you did not seem to be any less busier." He grinned. "Regardless, it is marvelous that you've finally decided to listen to me. Arwen will be delighted."

"And you, Legolas? When is your father planning on returning to Mirkwood?" Aragorn asked.

"Tomorrow actually," answered the Elf. "And I will ride with him."

"Will you be here for the wedding?"

The Elf made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort. "Of course I will be present then! How could I-how dare I miss the wedding of King Elessar Telcontar and Lady Arwen Undomiel? Never fear, my friend. I will return as soon as the message of your wedding reaches the boundaries of Mirkwood."

A sunny smile touched Aragorn's lips. "Thank you."

"For what, Aragorn?" That twinkle was back in Legolas' eyes. "For coming or for leaving?"

Aragorn laughed. "Both, let's say, and leave it at that." He started walking back to his private quarters. Casting one last glance over his shoulder, he said to the Elf, "Now, shoo, for a while at least. I've still some work to finish up. See you in the afternoon."


What a beautiful day. Sunny, breezy, beautiful. The sun glinted off the glassy waters of a nearby pond, scattering rays of light across the grass. The tall trees, with their lush, green tops, soared upwards, cleaving for the sky, yet still allowing beams of sunlight to pass through the leafy barrier. Clumps of moss could be seen here and there, covering the ground or the base of a tree. Silence reigned, other than the occasional song of a bird. Such a peaceful, beautiful day.

But the Elf-lord who walked amidst the trees was not fooled by the seeming perfection. Too many years had gone by when no such peace, no such beauty could be seen anywhere. He would not be able to forget those dark days, when it seemed that all was lost. It had seemed perfect once before. That perfection did not last long. Darkness streamed swiftly over all of Middle Earth and the peace, the beauty, the security had all given way. He had learned several times that everything could be lost in a matter of seconds. His old age had given him thousands of years of experience, and he would not soon shake off the constant wariness that, even now, still haunted him.

Lord Elrond, master of Rivendell, stopped walking suddenly, his sharp eyes catching a movement further ahead of him. He recognized his daughter and another blond Elf walking together, hand in hand. His thoughts angled in another direction.

Arwen and Heled had been spending so much time together nowadays. A couple days ago, he had sensed the bondage between the two, and he was shocked, though he did not show it.

Elrond had always believed that the love Aragorn and his daughter shared was the strongest tie possible. At first, he had not agreed to their love. It was scandalous. How could an Elf lady of Arwen's descent have dealings with a man such as the descendant of Isildur? Slowly, however, it became apparent that neither of the "young" ones were going to change their decision. As Elrond began to witness the deep, unbreakable love they shared, he came to accept it, and eventually, support it. He never would have thought that his daughter would forsake Aragorn for another Elf.

Now that it had happened, Elrond found himself hoping Aragorn would not return, not for the sake of Heled or even his daughter, but for Aragorn's own sake. He dreaded to think what would happen to the man if he should ever find out that Arwen had abandoned him.

Of course Elrond cared for his daughter and his daughter's happiness, but he had also come to care for Aragorn as a son. As he spent more time with the man, the more he admired him, his courage, his strength, his honesty, loyalty, and honor. He had the qualities of Isildur, yet lacked Isildur's weaknesses. Elrond was sure that he could put all his trust in Aragorn.

For this reason, the aged Elf-lord never liked watching his daughter and Heled together. He wondered why Arwen never seemed to feel uncomfortable at her betrayal. After all those years Aragorn had spent on her behalf, he would have thought that their love or at least her righteousness would have stood them through. Yet, apparently not.

Elrond gazed silently at the trees and sunlight and serenity around him. He hoped that Aragorn would not come back, impossible as it seemed. Rivendell would no longer be such a loving and perfect haven for him.


The land flashed past in a blur. Brown and green and blue melded into one nameless color as he galloped past unheedingly. His eyes were focused only on the distant woods ahead. His thoughts, however, were already there.

Aragorn imagined the look of surprise and joy on Arwen's face once he had reached Rivendell. Then, she would probably leap into his arms the moment they were alone. He would once again feel their love tying them together. The void in his heart would be filled and the years of separation could finally melt away.

He urged his horse into an even faster pace. Wryly, he remembered his parting with Legolas. The Elf had said, "Ride swift as the wind, King Elessar. A beautiful jewel awaits in Rivendell." And here he was, riding as swift as the wind for that jewel in Rivendell.

Hours passed and much distance was covered. For Aragorn, time had stopped. His whole being was centered around the thought of being with Arwen again. For his stallion, though, it was beginning to become a weary journey. The stallion was the swiftest and most enduring horse at Gondor, but it had its limits too, and now, it needed food and rest. For a while, the diligent horse kept going, sweat gleaming on its coat as it desperately tried to obey its master's order to get to Rivendell as quickly as possible. After a couple of miles, it began to stagger.

Aragorn was suddenly aware of his stallion's unnatural breathing and the way it tottered on. Immediately, he halted the poor horse and swung off it, cursing his own stupidity and carelessness. How could he have let the horse go on without rest? The way was too long for a breakneck ride without stopping.

Night was falling fast. Perhaps it would be best to rest here and continue the next morning. He led the stallion to a covered area, breaking off a bramble to brush the sweat off its coat. There was enough grass around for the horse to feed on, but he needed to find some water for the both of them. Aragorn searched around the vicinity for water, often bending his head to the ground so that he might hear the rush of water underneath the earth.

When he came back with some water, the stallion nickered to him gently. Aragorn smiled and patted its cheek. There would be another night to wait before he could see Arwen again, but after all these years, it wouldn't make a huge difference.


"My lady?" Heled murmured, holding out a hand to her.

The moonlight shone directly overhead, casting a glow around both Elves. They were once again in the garden, surrounded by a sea of fresh flowers.

Arwen smiled warmly and took his hand. As they began dancing, she rested her head on his shoulder. Her mind felt at peace as they swayed gently, and she was content to stay like this for the remainder of the night.

Heled looked down at her beautiful form pressed against his. She was truly the loveliest creature he had yet seen. And her manner was calm and mellow, though a bit emotional at times. Arwen would be a suitable wife, he decided. And he unquestionably deserved her after wasting so much precious time comforting her. He would never understand how that silent, arrogant outcast, Aragorn, had managed to steal Arwen Undomiel's heart in the first place. That despicable man didn't deserve her. He didn't deserve to be called an Elf-friend either. But it didn't matter now, because now, Arwen belonged to Heled, and Heled knew that Arwen had meant everything to Aragorn. How he would love to watch the man fall apart at his own weakness! A slow grin curled his lips as he anticipated the episode to come.

Oblivious to Heled's thoughts, Arwen sighed and closed her eyes. It had been a long time since she had last felt so tranquil. Yet, a nagging thought persisted to lurk behind that veil of tranquility, a thought with the image of Aragorn.


So...what did everyone think? Does anyone think the story is moving along too fast? Or too slow, for that matter? Thanks for reading!