Aragorn's Sorrow
By EmptyWord
Author's Notes: Once again, thanks to all who reviewed! Also, thanks to the three people who gave ideas for this chapter: Ellen the Trickstar, Bread and Cheese, and Iska Anoron.
In this story, Aragorn is a little over sixty. According to RotK, Aragorn should be about one hundred years of age after he ascended the throne. I'll correct this after I have finished the whole thing.
Um...the confession: I know I've made Arwen sound kind of stupid (maybe even cruel) and Heled really evil. And then I've turned around and made Aragorn into this perfect king. I'll try to have Arwen act a bit more "normal", but I can't promise anything about Heled or Aragorn. Heled's just, well, I don't like him, and I can't help being biased when it comes to Aragorn.
I know you're wondering when I'm going to stop rambling here, but I have just one last concern to address. I am afraid "the twins" (Elladan and Elrohir) won't be present in this story. I think I'll do something else with them.
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 Five: Encounters
Outside, the waterfall sang its song with a clear, musical voice. Instead of the splashing and roaring of normal waterfalls, this one hummed softly and gently. It's soothing melody cascaded on the Last Homely House, particularly on one Man who listened from his room.
Aragorn walked to his window, which overlooked one of the beautiful, impressive waterfalls of Rivendell. For a moment, he was captivated by the beauty and might in every glistening stream that arched into the sky and then plunged downwards to the earth. He began to have second thoughts on his decision. Rivendell was so comforting. It wouldn't be such a bad idea to stay...even for just another day.
Shaking his head, Aragorn turned away from the window. He could not linger in Rivendell, no matter how much he longed to. He had already tarried for eight days, immersing himself in the natural wonder of this place he once called home. His mind was now drawn back to his kingdom. There was much to do in Minas Tirith at Gondor and he was expected to do it. Besides, there was nothing else here that could hold him. He no longer needed to stay with Arwen. There was only duty left for him now and that duty was in Gondor.
Now definite in his decision, Aragorn strode purposefully from his room, heading for Elrond's chambers. He stepped down a flight of stairs and turned a corner, right into the face of Arwen Evenstar.
There was a momentary lapse of time as the two stared at each other, emotions warring with each other on both their faces.
Arwen was the first to recover. She quickly concealed her emotions with a kind smile. "My lord," she acknowledged. "I have not seen much of you during your stay. I hope you are enjoying your return?"
"Of course, my lady," Aragorn smiled back. "The house of Lord Elrond could not offer anything less than that. Such beauty and peace could not be found elsewhere in Middle Earth, save the great Elven state of Lothlorien."
"You give us far more credit than we deserve," Arwen demurred. Her heart sank at the cool politeness of their conversation, and she inwardly wept for what had once been.
Aragorn broke their gaze, unable to bear it much longer. "It was a pleasure bumping into you, my lady. I wish you and Heled the best." His heart screamed at what a lie he spoke. Struggling with his emotions, Aragorn hurriedly bowed and continued down the hall.
She watched him walk, past a marvelous tapestry that in her eyes dimmed in comparison to the man, past the window with light falling on his dark hair, past doors that cast shadows on his figure. Arwen felt a sudden surge of profound love for him and before she could think about her actions, she was running down the hall. She was not quite sure why she was doing such a thing. She only felt that she could not let this man walk away, even if he wanted to walk away.
Aragorn turned in surprise as he heard the quick footsteps behind him. His heart stopped at the vision of Arwen, running to him, her dark hair billowing. He blinked as she stopped in front of him, her breath heavier than before. Once again, her astounding beauty struck him. Aragorn quickly pushed such thoughts from his mind. He did not need to be any more haunted by her than he already was.
Her heart floundering in her chest, Arwen suddenly felt very foolish. She opened her mouth to speak, only to close it again. She dared not speak, knowing she could only end up begging for his love. She could only gaze at him imploringly, silently pleading for him to take her into his embrace again and tell her that he did love her, that her doubts were irrational.
"My lady?" asked Aragorn, his voice detached and polite.
Arwen's eyes darkened with pain. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
He frowned at her, truly confused. "There is nothing for you to be sorry about, Lady Undomiel. What troubles you so?"
She stared at him, pressing down the wave of anguish in her chest. Blinking tears from her eyes, she lifted her chin a notch. "I'm sorry for having dashed after you. Forgive my lack of manners."
He paused for a moment, stunned. She was apologizing for having run after him. No, he wanted to say to her, never apologize for that. If she only knew how much he wanted her to come after him, to tell him that she loved him and not Heled, that he was the only one for her. But it was useless to dwell on empty hopes. "I find nothing to forgive, my lady. Does something disturb you?"
Arwen was the one to avert her gaze this time. "Hardly, my lord. I wonder though, for how long shall you be staying?"
He cast her a look of disbelief. Aragorn had never known her to be so impolite! Was she so eager to see him leave? Aragorn stared fiercely at the wall, trying desperately to calm himself and ease his torment.
He mustered a faint smile and said, "Not for long, Lady Undomiel. I shall not take advantage of Master Elrond's kindness." He nodded briefly in respect and turned away. Controlling himself, Aragorn proceeded towards Elrond's chambers.
Arwen stood still, her eyes remaining on the king of Gondor until he had passed down another hallway. She did not run after him this time. She promised herself she would never run after him again.
Her heart heavy with sorrow and her eyes busy watching Aragorn's retreating figure, Arwen failed to notice the wisp of golden hair that disappeared around a nearby corner.
Legolas accepted the tea graciously. "Thank you," he murmured to the young maid who was blushing furiously, her flaming face matching the red of her curly hair.
With the tea tray dangling from her hand, the maid dropped her gaze to the floor. "You're wel-welcome, my lord."
His eyes glinted with laughter. "You are free to leave then," said Legolas. He watched with a mixture of sympathy and amusement as the poor girl fairly fled from the room.
Once the maid was gone, Legolas sipped at his tea, staring over the brim at the mantelpiece across the room. This was the guestroom that had been given to him for as long as he found it necessary to stay at Gondor. For Legolas had not left with his father for Mirkwood. At the last moment, his father had decided it was too inconvenient for Legolas to return to Mirkwood only to go to Gondor again for King Elessar's wedding. It was enough that Thranduil himself was going to Mirkwood.
Legolas was beginning to worry though. Aragorn had not yet returned from Rivendell, or sent any message to Gondor to prepare for a marriage ceremony. Eight days had passed already. Aragorn should be back at Gondor with Arwen by now. Legolas wondered just what was keeping the Man.
He set the cup of tea down, thinking wryly that the maid had forgotten to leave him the tea tray. With the grace of a dancer, Legolas stood from his chair. Making up his mind, he left the room and went out to the stables. Swiftly, he wrote a message for the stable hand to give to the councilman in charge while Aragorn was away. As soon as he'd saddled his horse, Legolas swung on and rode off, his bright gaze set in the direction of Rivendell.
Elrond turned sharply as the door swung open without a word of warning. His narrowed eyes softened at the sight of his foster son. "What manner of conduct, Estel, to barge in so recklessly," he chided, reminded, with a smile, of the lessons he gave when Aragorn was but a child.
Aragorn entered the room quietly, without answering his foster father.
Elrond frowned, surveying Aragorn in concern. The Elf-lord had detected something different in Aragorn's demeanor since the day of the banquet, and he suspected that Aragorn had discovered Arwen's affections for Heled. He had set those suspicions aside, however, when he saw the ease and grace with which Aragorn continued to carry himself. Now, eight days later, as Elrond studied the Ranger, he realized his mistake. Aragorn had concealed his sorrow, and he had done so well enough that even the master of Rivendell had been fooled.
It seemed as though Aragorn's façade had finally cracked. His appearance was not unusual, but a shadow of deep and terrible pain hung over him. That very pain was made none the more clear in his eyes, which had finally opened to reveal his emotions. Elrond felt an ache deep inside him at seeing the Ranger so broken. He reached out a hand to clasp the other's shoulder.
"Do not be so saddened by this, Aragorn. Not even the wisest know what the future may give. Just as she could turn from you, so she could turn back to you."
"I could have sustained it," said Aragorn, his words barely audible. "Yet, meeting her again today has cut open that chasm of despair."
"Wait for her to realize her folly. I know and she will know too that you are the only one she loves."
"Surely you jest! Her love for Heled is so apparent. I think, perhaps, it is for the best that she loves him instead. Much sorrow would befall many should she stay with me, forsaking the immortality of the Elves." Aragorn looked into Elrond's eyes, his own sad and resigned, with some sort of apology in them.
For a moment, the lord of Rivendell struggled with his own emotions. As soon as he had gotten over his momentary spout of selfishness, he said gently, "What of your sorrow, Aragorn? Does that not count? And do not think that I would be happy to have her marry Heled, merely because he is an Elf and would not take away her mortality." He paused to let this statement sink in. "I would say this to you, ere I sail to the West: None other would I have her love but you."
These words finally broke past Aragorn's restraints and he leaned against his foster father, tears slipping from his eyes. The gratitude to Elrond for his words and the immense pain of the last eight days poured out with the tears.
Quietly, Elrond received each tear. He felt the agony that wracked Aragorn's body and understood that gratitude was not the only cause for these tears. Elrond knew that the precious moment was not to be broken by petty words. He held Aragorn to him, giving what comfort he could in silence.
After a length of time, the tears stopped and Aragorn lifted his head, looking slightly ashamed. He stepped awkwardly from Elrond's embrace. "Thank you, Elrond," he said, appreciation weaving his tone.
"Think nothing of it," Elrond answered.
It was some time before Aragorn could bring himself to voice what he had first come to say. As soon as he had gotten the words out of his mouth, he could see the unhappy look cross the other's face.
Elrond did not think it was a good idea for Aragorn to leave so soon. He truly believed that Arwen would eventually see her folly and return to Aragorn's side, but he did not know how long it would take for her to get over her indecision.
"If you wish to leave Rivendell, you are free to go," said Elrond, "but if I may give counsel to you, I suggest you stay a while longer."
"As much as I long to stay, my lord, I am afraid I have much to do at Gondor. And if the truth be told, I do not know if I could bear staying so close to Arwen, yet knowing she does not return my feelings." Watching his foster father's displeasure grow, Aragorn added warily, "I will stay for another day or two, but no longer, if you consent."
The lord of Rivendell could hardly not consent.
It was a dark night, the darkest so far this year. The moon was pale and barely visible, offering the only light. Ominous gray clouds loomed across the sky, hiding the stars. Chilly breezes swept the land, their fingers reaching into every crevice.
Heled's eyes burned into the night. Anger warmed his body, cloaking him from the cold.
Once he got his hands on Aragorn...! Heled clenched his fists. After witnessing the scene in the afternoon between Aragorn and Arwen, he suspected that Arwen was beginning to reconsider her decision. If she should turn back to Aragorn, Heled was sure he would snap.
Jealousy raged within him as memories of the past came back to taunt him.
"It's a strange night, isn't it?" came a familiar voice, interrupting his thoughts.
Heled turned slowly to the Man beside him, his eyes smoldering. "Quite," he bit out tightly.
Aragorn glanced at the Elf. A sad smile was on his face. "This has been a strange visit for me, if the term 'strange' may be used at all."
Heled wondered why the Man was talking to him. They weren't exactly on friendly terms. He did not answer, waiting for the other to continue.
"I can hardly blame her for choosing you."
He started at this sudden turn of conversation. He narrowed his eyes at the other, but kept his silence.
"I wish the best for you and Arwen, Heled," said Aragorn, now turning fully to look Heled in the eyes. "May you both be gifted with endless love and happiness."
Heled glared fiercely at the Ranger. "I do not care for your mocking words, Aragorn. I have never cared for them."
He sighed. "I realize that we have had our differences in the past, Heled, but I was hoping we could patch that up, now that she has chosen you." There was a brief flash of pain in his eyes, but he hid it quickly.
Understanding slowly dawned on the Elf. Aragorn had thought the basis of Heled's hatred was Arwen! "It was not her. It has never been her." Heled smiled slowly, unpleasantly. "You thought I was jealous of the love you shared, didn't you? But I didn't love her. I still do not love her." He laughed, consumed with the urge to hurt the Man. "You are so naïve, Aragorn! I took her, not because I love her, but because I wanted to hurt you. I truly hate you, Aragorn son of Arathorn. I hate you with unbelievable vehemence."
Stunned, Aragorn stared. He forced a question past his lips. "Why?"
"You were always Elrond's favorite," Heled sneered. "Everyone loved you, though I do not know why. You were a Man"-he spat this out, as though the very word tasted foul-"They named you their hope. They gave you all the best of everything. Estel, the heir of Gondor, was revered and cherished, while insignificant Heled, named after a foolish scholar, was shunted to the side, forced to live in your shadow. You stole my dreams from me. You stole all the love, all the attention. How can you blame me for hating you?"
Aragorn returned his gaze to the stars. What a mess this was! Carefully, he said, "I do not blame you, Heled. I am sorry for the pain I have caused you, but surely, you need not bring Arwen into it? None of this concerns her-"
"To the contrary, my lord," Heled interrupted, his eyes glinting, defying the cold of the night. "I have not failed to notice the extraordinary love you bear her. If I should take her away from you, wouldn't you be crushed, even to the point of no recovery? This concerns her very much, Aragorn."
"Why are you telling me this?"
Heled's smile broadened. "Why shouldn't I tell you this? Arwen would never believe you if you relayed the information to her, nor would anyone else. They would all think you were trying to win Arwen back. I want you to suffer, Aragorn. What better way to do it than by taking away your dearest love and letting you know that it was all your fault?"
"You can't possibly get away with this, Heled."
"Oh?" A challenge glinted in Heled's fiery blue eyes and something close to rage burned behind it. "I have had twenty years to plan and to seethe in fury."
(sighs) I hate this chapter! I hope someone will like it because I positively hate it! It is even worse than the previous chapter, if that's possible. Instead of the action I promised, there's just a ton of talking. I apologize. It seems my writing's deteriorating.
Anyways, it'd be great if anyone could review! Thanks for reading!
