The eyes of Gondor's queen opened with a flutter as piercing blue orbs appeared in the center of her ivory flesh. She cocked her head gently too the right noticing the space beside her still as empty as it had been before sleep had taken her. The King had not been too bed, at least not with her. This was not an entirely unusual action, as Aragorn often would go days without slumber. A remnants of the ranger still in his blood.
"Good morning, your majesty." A short, plump lump lady in waiting entered sleeping chambers and pushes the heavy purple tapestries on the window open, flooding the room with mid morning light. "Did you sleep well?"
Arwen nodded gracefully, her rosy lips raising to a tender smile. "'Quel amrun Lómódia, I did, as always."
"Shall I fetch your garments, My Lady?"
"Yes."
Arwen rose for her bed in one elegant gesture, gliding over the stone floor to dressing room. Her movements like flying. Even the way she dressed was breath taking. In her few years as queen she'd take on a more human sort of demeanor but the grace and valor of the elves would never completely desert their most fair. Their EvenStar. It was this simple yet marvelous quality that awed Gondor's the servants and honored guests alike.
The queen took her seat at the breakfast table, a bountiful spread of toast and fruit before her. While it was indeed a breakfast fit for a King, there was in fact something missing. The King himself.
"Where is my husband?" Arwen's lovely eyebrows arched perfectly as her attention fell on the empty seat at the end of the table.
The dining room was silent, the maids and men looking at each, trying to think on what to say. Finally one of the citadel guards licked his lips and opened his mouth to speak.
"The king, your highness has not been seen all morning. He road out past dark last night, he has not returned."
Arwen was perplexed by this, many times had Aragorn left the palace grounds for moonlit rides, but never before had not returned. He'd also never ceased to inform his bride of his departure. Something was simply not right with this.
"Did he tell no one of his leaving?"
The response her majesty received was that of shaking heads and silence. Why had not come home, or seen fit to tell anyone of his going. Could he be hurt or lost. It was not likely, for the ranger still lived inside of him, but then why was he not back. Worry swept her pale body swiftly, settling upon her like water on sand. Sinking.
"Someone must know something. Fetch me Nikerym* Faramir."
As the room emptied and Arwen was left alone, fear clenched her chest. Could it be possible that Aragorn, king of men, lay battered and broken somewhere outside of the White City? It had been years since the last of war. The war of the ring. Perhaps her husbands skills were rusty and had failed him. Maybe he attacked by a lone Orc still left wondering Middle Earth in anger over the outcome of the war. Where was Aragorn and when would he return.
'Quel amrun Lómódia*~ Good morning Lomodia
Nikerym*~Captain
