Aragorn's Sorrow
By EmptyWord

Author's Notes: Finally updated, huh? Thanks to all those great people who reviewed! And also, thanks so much to Rebecca who helped me get this story done (I'll learn to be more open to suggestions now, won't I?). I used some Elvish in here and the translations are in parenthesis. Oh yes, I want to make this very, VERY clear. This is an Aragorn/Arwen fic. Heled is NOT someone I intend to have Arwen pair up with.

One last thing: Gondor and Rivendell are actually situated much too far apart for Aragorn to make the ride in one and a half days. However, for the purposes of this story, I think I'm going to take some liberties with that. And now...enjoy!

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 Three: A Single Tear

Soft, dark eyes...a pale, elegant face...a gentle smile...

Aragorn awoke from his pleasant dream of Arwen as his stallion nudged him. He smiled warmly at the horse, blinking the last vestiges of his dream from his mind.

"Already so eager to continue?" he teased, getting up and fetching some more water for the both of them.

In just a few minutes, he was back on the stallion's back and riding for Rivendell. As time passed, the dry grass began to look fresher and greener and more streams appeared. The sun was already high up in the sky when Aragorn decided to take another break.

"Well, we can't have you exhausted, can we?" he said softly to his horse, while grooming its mane.

He looked ahead and found that he was already near the boundaries of Rivendell. Not much farther to go.

In the next hour, Aragorn and his horse traveled in the woods, slowly weaving through the trees. Sunlight scattered through the leaves and onto the ground, giving the forest an almost drowsy taste. Aragorn once again felt the warmth and contentment of this place he could have called "home". However, excitement and tenseness raced through him as well and he looked forward to his reunion with Arwen.

At last, the towering silver gates appeared. Several Elves were stationed inside the gate. The sight of their ebony hair and the proud, graceful way they stood warmed Aragorn's heart. As he approached, the Elves turned to watch him. Many of them smiled once they recognized him.

"Welcome, King of Gondor!" called one Elf as Aragorn halted his horse in front of the gate.

The Elves opened the gates and they exchanged greetings. Aragorn continued on horseback into Rivendell. He truly felt at peace here, unaware that that peace was about to be shattered.


Lord Elrond paced his room. He paused before a framed picture on the wall, gazing steadily at it.

The picture depicted several large, sturdy ships. Boarding these ships were rows and rows of hooded Elves. Though the Elves were silent and hooded, there was a light of hope and joy in their eyes. Engraved upon the picture were the Elven words "Thar i'Numenenya Ear" (Across the Western Sea).

As Elrond studied the picture, his heart lightened. The time was near for the picture to come true. Elven ships were arriving soon to take the remaining Elves from Middle Earth and across the Western Seas to Valinor, the ancient, hidden land on the other side. It was spoken of old to be a beautiful, thriving haven where all dwelt in harmony under the eyes of the Valar and not a drop of blood was shed. The master of Rivendell had seen too much blood and war during his time in Middle Earth and he would be glad to leave it behind him.

At this point, Elrond was lifted from his thoughts as his acute ears picked up the footsteps in the hall outside. These footsteps were unlike the light, springy step of Elves. They were calm and firm, an even tread that was unusual in Rivendell. Elrond's curiosity was further aroused when the steps stopped just outside his door.

The door opened and a tall shadow came in. It was a man, with dark, shaggy hair and a stern, but tired face bristling with hair. He was clad simply, in stained green garments and a thick brown cloak. Though his appearances were ragged, there was a regal aura around him, along with a mysterious touch. What stood out most were his owlish eyes, two inky pools of gray that pierced into Elrond.

Elrond's cold façade dropped and surprise entered his eyes. "Aragorn!"

The Ranger's hard, weather-beaten face softened to a smile. He approached his foster father and suddenly flung his arms around the other.

Elrond was even more surprised at this display of affection. He had never known Aragorn to act so open.

"Nae saian luume', heruamin (It has been too long, my lord)," said Aragorn softly, releasing him. "I have missed you all. And I am glad to be back in Rivendell."

At this, Elrond's memory jarred and his eyes darkened. How could he explain to Aragorn that Arwen was no longer loyal? He could hardly hope for Aragorn to take it well. "I have certainly missed you as well, Dunadan," he voiced.

"Is all well then?" Aragorn questioned, unaware of Elrond's inner conflict.

Elrond hesitated. He could not just break it to the Man like this. "Fairly well, as it goes by," answered Elrond. "I should warn you, Aragorn, the time is close for the ships to take the Elves across the Western Sea." He watched Aragorn's reaction closely.

The Man seemed to jerk. The smile died from his eyes. "Amin hiraetha (I am sorry)," he said. "I did not mean to take her from you, but it is Arwen's decision and I will not interfere. She may yet change her mind and leave for the Undying Lands." Though he spoke thus, Aragorn did not really believe it. He and Arwen had broken down so many barriers together. They had sworn themselves to each other. How could either of them break their promises now?

The Elf-lord felt his heart grow cold at the truth of that last statement. A great sadness suddenly clutched at him as he gazed upon Aragorn. This man had many a time so willingly taken the weight of the world upon his shoulder and suffered so much without complaint. He should not have to bear the pain of losing his love as well. Yet, Elrond could only do so much. As Aragorn had said, it was Arwen's decision.

"Amin weera (I agree)," said Elrond. "But let us not speak of such things. The time for leaving is yet a way off. As for now, you must be weary. Your own room has been kept clean and you shall find it much the same as before, I hope. I will call for a great banquet tonight to celebrate your return, for you come now as the King of Men. Until then, the grounds of Rivendell are ever open to you, my son."

Aragorn smiled. "Thank you, my lord," he said before leaving, muddy brown cloak swirling around him.


After cleaning himself up some, Aragorn left his room, eyes bright and smiling. He strode down the hallways of Elrond's palace, eager to find Arwen. He did not know exactly where she was, but some sense led him through the palace and out into the open. He stopped a moment, gazing at the beauty of Rivendell. But even that did not hold him for long, so impatient was he to see his love again.

He continued through the forest, now gliding along silently, fearful of disturbing the stillness. Upon reaching a clearing, Aragorn halted with a slight intake of breath. In the clearing, dancing gracefully was the one he loved with all his heart. Eager as he was to see her, he was still not prepared for that first sight after so long a time. She was breath taking. Her dark, raven hair streamed behind her, glistening with a light that contested the stars. Her white mantle swirled and rippled like that of a white river. Her face was fair and exquisite, too beautiful for a Man's eyes to behold. It was as though he had been dying of thirst all these years before and had only now gotten his first sip of water. Aragorn smiled faintly at his desperate need of her. He took a step closer.

"Arwen."

Another person stepped into the clearing, calling out her name.

Aragorn hesitated, wondering whom this other was. He was certainly an Elf, with golden hair and a tall graceful stature.

Arwen halted in her dancing and turned to gaze at who had spoken. Upon recognizing him, she leapt forward in delight, straight into the Elf's arms. "I thought you were busy today, Heled," she said softly.

Aragorn felt himself freeze. The note of tenderness in her voice was not lost upon him, nor was the happiness in which she greeted him. He blinked, trying to clear his head. They were just close friends, he decided, no more than that.

"I was busy, my lady, busy thinking about you," said Heled in a low tone. Swiftly, he leaned down and captured her lips in a kiss. Silky strands of his golden hair fell about them.

Arwen's eyes fluttered close as she leaned into the kiss, smiling as she did so.

The Man watching them felt all the strength leave his body. Aragorn's mind went numb. He could not believe it. What was this? What about Arwen and...and him? Arwen loved him, just as he loved her too. Wasn't this true? His thoughts floundered helplessly, searching for a plausible answer. What was going on?

The two Elves pulled apart, both breathing rather heavily. Arwen lifted a slim finger and slowly traced Heled's cheek. Her dark eyes shone and a sweet smile graced her lips. "Amin mela lle (I love you)," she whispered.

Disbelief struck Aragorn and he stumbled, hearing the sound of a twig cracking a long way off. His vision blurred for a moment as the words slammed into him. He did not want to believe what he had heard, but there was no denying what she had said. Aragorn slowly shook his head, his gray eyes dull and confused.

Heled had been about to answer Arwen when he heard the snap of a twig. His head jerked up to the sound and keen Elven eyes easily located the trembling man among the wild brambles. Surprise entered his eyes briefly, but was chased away by amusement. Aragorn looked absolutely thunder-struck, and no doubt he would be in even worse condition as the days went by. Here at last, Heled's dreams would come true. Aragorn would finally get what he deserved.

Arwen followed her lover's gaze. When she saw Aragorn, a torrent of emotion flared up inside her. She was stunned. To see him standing amidst all the shrubbery, with the sun's warm glow settling on him, and his eyes directed at her... Arwen quickly reminded herself of her promise to disregard him, but her thoughts were forgotten when she saw the state he was in. Arwen could not contain the gasp that forced its way out of her mouth. His eyes, once so intense and sizzling, were now a flat gray. He was shaky, wavering on his two feet as though they could no longer support him. Gone was his calm, mysterious air. Only confusion and pain hovered over him, shadowing his face in sorrow. A flood of worry swept across Arwen. Surely he could not be suffering because he had overheard her words to Heled! If he'd truly cared, he would have come earlier! And yet, he now appeared so helpless, so lifeless. Another wave of terrible guilt swamped her. Was he truly so hurt? Had she hurt him so? Arwen tore her eyes from his, forcing her tears down. No, he did not care, she repeated to herself, and if he did care, he had come too late. She now belonged to another.

Heled smiled slightly in satisfaction. Things had worked out well. Not only had he avenged himself, he also had the most beautiful lady by his side, Lady Arwen Undomiel, Evenstar of the Elves. He had now only to wait for the "great" king of Gondor to fall to his ruin and all would be perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Aragorn's gaze stayed on Arwen, drunkenly taking in her beauty, but her words to the strange Elf repeated themselves over and over in his mind. "Amin mela lle." Never had she spoken those words to any but he. Never had he thought she would speak them to any other. Yet, she had spoken these words to another Elf. Had she really forgotten about the love that they shared? Had she forgotten him? Aragorn painfully awoke from his haze to see her looking at the ground, refusing to meet his eyes. Fear stabbed at his heart. Would she not even look at him? In despair, Aragorn turned and fled.

Aragorn crashed through the brush, deaf to the noise he created, blind to the peace he disturbed. There was no peace for him, in any case. He thought he might take it better if his heart were ripped out from his chest. That way, he wouldn't have to feel it shatter. Aragorn ran on unsteadily, drawing in shaky breaths.

After an eternity of tearing through the grounds, the Ranger finally slumped into his room, locked the door behind him, and dropped down into a dark corner of his room. His head slowly drooped onto his clenched hands, and he sank further into the abyss of depression. Aragorn truly did not understand what he had done wrong. What had drawn Arwen to this other Elf? Had Aragorn hurt her in some way? Had he somehow angered her? Or had she... Aragorn squeezed his eyes shut at this thought. Had she truly fallen in love with this Elf and he, Aragorn, had been nothing but a brief interest?

He recalled their short meeting in the woods just now. She was so beautiful, stealing his breath with her soft, refined features and delicate elegance. When she'd finally caught sight of him, her face had gone white, her features hardening, except for soft dark eyes that shone with guilt. Then she had refused to look at him, finding the ground far more interesting.

"Mela amin lle." The words suddenly thundered in his mind. Aragorn lifted his head to stare emptily into the growing darkness of his room. Did she truly love the Elf she called Heled? Had she really abandoned Aragorn for this other? Though he was loath to believe it, Aragorn knew it to be true. There could be no denying the loving looks she and Heled had shared, the passionate kiss that bound them.

A solitary tear slipped from pained eyes and trickled its way down his cheek. It lingered at his chin for a fraction of a second, and then dropped, tumbling to the ground, as desolate as the Man who sat in the darkness.


This chapter took an eternity to write! I hope everyone enjoyed reading it! You know how you can tell me? Review!

And don't anyone worry about Aragorn acting so grief-stricken. Rest assured, Aragorn will recover. He IS Aragorn after all.

Thanks for reading!