-/Pains in the Heart-
I don't own the characters, just the plot. However, I do have virtual voodoo dolls with which I do evil things muhuhahaha!
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---- Minas Tirith: Éowyn's Chambers ----
She couldn't take it any more. Sliding out from between the linen, she slipped on a satin robe and quietly turned the doorknob. The hallway was deserted. A long red carpet ran up through the middle of the marble corridor; her cold toes sank deep into the thick carpet as she silently tripped along to the staircase.
Éowyn was uncomfortably aware of the sticky sound of her bare feet on the cold marble, but there was no helping it. The voices were getting louder, echoing around the floor. It was clearer now, too, and she could catch some of what was being said. Éowyn stopped on the third-to-last step to listen.
"Imladris will always be your home."
It was a woman's voice. It had the musical quality that Éowyn associated with the Fair Folk. She gasped. She was here. The Elf-princess that Aragorn had been fated to marry. Why was she here? Who had summoned her? And why - Éowyn's heart froze - why was she in Aragorn's bedchamber?
The silence was cold. Then the Elf spoke again, "You know this, deep inside of yourself." A chill smote Éowyn. The Elf's voice was soft, and yet carried a power that Éowyn could sense from the hall. It suddenly struck Éowyn that she would have to offer an explanation for her curiosity, were she caught.
Coming up with nothing, Éowyn crept up the last few steps and crossed the hall to peep round the corner as the Elf flung herself against Aragorn's breast. She glimpsed Aragorn's profile lit by the celebrating City below. Straight in front of her, Aragorn's hand went to the Elf's back, and his other to her silky hair. He made comforting noises. Éowyn gasped and made to enter the room, but a sudden hand on her shoulder restrained her.
It was a guard. She hadn't even heard his approach. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.
"I- I heard voices," stammered Éowyn in shock.
"These," announced the guard, "are King Elessar's private rooms. You have no business here. Who are you?"
Éowyn drew herself up. "I am the Lady Éowyn of Rohan, betrothed of the King."
The guard glanced into Aragorn's room, and Éowyn peeked in as well. Her breath caught in her throat. Arwen's arms were encircling Aragorn; suddenly the guard jerked her back.
"You are betrothed to the king, you say?" sneered the guard. "Then who is the woman in his chamber?"
"I - I -"
"You will come with me."
Éowyn glanced back, but the pair had moved so that Éowyn could not see from the stairs. She felt tears well up in her eyes; her eyes picked out every thread in the carpet, and she struggled slightly, though knew her strength was not the match of the guard's. He had to half-drag her down the stairs. "You'll be seeing the Lord Steward!" he panted, for Éowyn was far from delicate.
"Aragorn!" she whispered, though it had meant to be a scream, as she rounded the foot of the steps, and she was gone.
---- Minas Tirith: Aragorn's Chambers ----
Aragorn's mind felt as though it was clouding up; the room was slowly becoming hazier and the only clear thing in it was Arwen. Her face was turned to his as she wrapped her arms around him. She was truly a vision of beauty: a glowing star amidst the gloom. Her face was rising; their lips brushed against each other.
"I cannot," he said, slipping from her embrace. "You must go."
"Why?" demanded Arwen, her despair boiling into rage. "You do not resist my touch! I will not be a mistress, waiting in the wings until your human fancy withers into dust!"
"That is not my intent!" cried Aragorn.
"What is your intent, then," sneered Arwen, "o great King of Men? Why do you kiss me, unless you love me?"
"I believe it is customary to kiss goodbye," said Aragorn coldly. He had not meant for it to happen, but it had, and he had not resisted.
It took Arwen by surprise. She stepped back, her anger suddenly chilled. "You really do love her," she said in awe.
"I do," said Aragorn solemnly.
"Then I must congratulate you," said Arwen, her voice shaking. "May you and she fare well as King and Queen."
And with that, Arwen gained a new resolve. She stood up; tall and proud as the Elf-lady she was, she left the room. Aragorn heard her footsteps clacking down the stairs and dropped onto his bed, feeling villainous for his treatment of her. But had there been any other way?
Arwen took horse, still clad in little more than a nightgown, and left the Citadel, left Minas Tirith. It was not until her horse had taken her to the very edge of the Pelennor that she looked back, and said, "I could have loved this land; I could have been its queen. But better a spinster in Tol Eressëa than trapped in marriage to a man who loves another."
And she rode off, and was not seen again by her friends or kin in the West of Middle-earth, for she rode to the Havens, eating only Lembas, drinking only water, warding off illness with the protection that dwells within the very skin of the Elves. And there she took ship, and was reunited with Celebrían her mother; and later with her father and brothers, and her grandparents Galadriel and Celeborn, and with the Ringbearer and Ringfinder.
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I don't own the characters, just the plot. However, I do have virtual voodoo dolls with which I do evil things muhuhahaha!
--------------------------------------
===================
---- Minas Tirith: Éowyn's Chambers ----
She couldn't take it any more. Sliding out from between the linen, she slipped on a satin robe and quietly turned the doorknob. The hallway was deserted. A long red carpet ran up through the middle of the marble corridor; her cold toes sank deep into the thick carpet as she silently tripped along to the staircase.
Éowyn was uncomfortably aware of the sticky sound of her bare feet on the cold marble, but there was no helping it. The voices were getting louder, echoing around the floor. It was clearer now, too, and she could catch some of what was being said. Éowyn stopped on the third-to-last step to listen.
"Imladris will always be your home."
It was a woman's voice. It had the musical quality that Éowyn associated with the Fair Folk. She gasped. She was here. The Elf-princess that Aragorn had been fated to marry. Why was she here? Who had summoned her? And why - Éowyn's heart froze - why was she in Aragorn's bedchamber?
The silence was cold. Then the Elf spoke again, "You know this, deep inside of yourself." A chill smote Éowyn. The Elf's voice was soft, and yet carried a power that Éowyn could sense from the hall. It suddenly struck Éowyn that she would have to offer an explanation for her curiosity, were she caught.
Coming up with nothing, Éowyn crept up the last few steps and crossed the hall to peep round the corner as the Elf flung herself against Aragorn's breast. She glimpsed Aragorn's profile lit by the celebrating City below. Straight in front of her, Aragorn's hand went to the Elf's back, and his other to her silky hair. He made comforting noises. Éowyn gasped and made to enter the room, but a sudden hand on her shoulder restrained her.
It was a guard. She hadn't even heard his approach. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.
"I- I heard voices," stammered Éowyn in shock.
"These," announced the guard, "are King Elessar's private rooms. You have no business here. Who are you?"
Éowyn drew herself up. "I am the Lady Éowyn of Rohan, betrothed of the King."
The guard glanced into Aragorn's room, and Éowyn peeked in as well. Her breath caught in her throat. Arwen's arms were encircling Aragorn; suddenly the guard jerked her back.
"You are betrothed to the king, you say?" sneered the guard. "Then who is the woman in his chamber?"
"I - I -"
"You will come with me."
Éowyn glanced back, but the pair had moved so that Éowyn could not see from the stairs. She felt tears well up in her eyes; her eyes picked out every thread in the carpet, and she struggled slightly, though knew her strength was not the match of the guard's. He had to half-drag her down the stairs. "You'll be seeing the Lord Steward!" he panted, for Éowyn was far from delicate.
"Aragorn!" she whispered, though it had meant to be a scream, as she rounded the foot of the steps, and she was gone.
---- Minas Tirith: Aragorn's Chambers ----
Aragorn's mind felt as though it was clouding up; the room was slowly becoming hazier and the only clear thing in it was Arwen. Her face was turned to his as she wrapped her arms around him. She was truly a vision of beauty: a glowing star amidst the gloom. Her face was rising; their lips brushed against each other.
"I cannot," he said, slipping from her embrace. "You must go."
"Why?" demanded Arwen, her despair boiling into rage. "You do not resist my touch! I will not be a mistress, waiting in the wings until your human fancy withers into dust!"
"That is not my intent!" cried Aragorn.
"What is your intent, then," sneered Arwen, "o great King of Men? Why do you kiss me, unless you love me?"
"I believe it is customary to kiss goodbye," said Aragorn coldly. He had not meant for it to happen, but it had, and he had not resisted.
It took Arwen by surprise. She stepped back, her anger suddenly chilled. "You really do love her," she said in awe.
"I do," said Aragorn solemnly.
"Then I must congratulate you," said Arwen, her voice shaking. "May you and she fare well as King and Queen."
And with that, Arwen gained a new resolve. She stood up; tall and proud as the Elf-lady she was, she left the room. Aragorn heard her footsteps clacking down the stairs and dropped onto his bed, feeling villainous for his treatment of her. But had there been any other way?
Arwen took horse, still clad in little more than a nightgown, and left the Citadel, left Minas Tirith. It was not until her horse had taken her to the very edge of the Pelennor that she looked back, and said, "I could have loved this land; I could have been its queen. But better a spinster in Tol Eressëa than trapped in marriage to a man who loves another."
And she rode off, and was not seen again by her friends or kin in the West of Middle-earth, for she rode to the Havens, eating only Lembas, drinking only water, warding off illness with the protection that dwells within the very skin of the Elves. And there she took ship, and was reunited with Celebrían her mother; and later with her father and brothers, and her grandparents Galadriel and Celeborn, and with the Ringbearer and Ringfinder.
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