Disclaimer: I don't own these charcters. I just play in their world.
Chapter 3:
Aragorn scanned the open expanse of the Pelennor fields, calm and quiet, it's grass bending and twisting with each gentle river breeze. Music and reveling could be heard from Osgiliath, as small firecrackers and brilliant bursts of sparkling color filled the twilight air with life.
He had spent the day preparing for his wedding, meeting with well- wishers and enjoying a lazy meal with his friends. Despite the pleasant company and joking, good food, and abundant wine, the King's mind was weary. Walking alone in thought, he had come to stand along the low wall of the courtyard, silently watching the city bustle with revelers all trying to catch a glimpse of activity along the palace walls. The sudden appearance of the King overlooking his people drew loud cheers and shouts, and Aragorn waved to his people, smiling and nodding his head in recognition.
With a final wave, Aragorn turned from the wall and sank to the ground, leaning against the rugged white stone of the banister and resting his arms on his bent knees. He looked up at the slowly emerging stars and ran a hand over his full dark beard. Various servants and palace attendants worked out the last little details to the scene besetting the courtyard. As they passed, they curtsied low to the King, though many wore a strange look on their face as they pondered why exactly the King would chose to sit on the ground instead of his throne a few short meters away.
Absently watching their tireless working, Aragorn allowed his mind to drift. The inability of his soldiers to discover the identity of Arwen's criticizer bothered Aragorn more then he wanted to admit. It troubled him to realize that there were those who feared his bride, simply because she was Elf-kind. Before last night, he would have found it incomprehensible for anyone to distrust or dislike the elf princess. It was a rude awakening to learn otherwise. That his own people were apprehensive of such a gentle heart showed Aragorn that the race of Men was full of the flaws Elrond had always spoke of.
He knew it had bothered Arwen. He had seen the hurt in her eyes as she had departed for bed. Despite the experiences her long life had garnered her, she was not accustomed to such outright hostility from anyone. In Rivendell her life had been peaceful, full of love and companionship from those she was most closely connected to. The harsh world of Men was still new to her, along with it's hardships and constant strife.
Aragorn sighed as he reached into his tunic and pulled out a long stemmed pipe. Drawing from his pocket a small pouch of Hobbit weed he began to pack the crispy leaf bits into the bowl of the pipe. A undetected presence standing over him reminded him that he must not lose his ranger skill now that he was a king. Looking up he saw the tall frame of Elrond. Quickly rising to his feet, he bowed to the imposing Elf lord. Elrond raised a dark eyebrow, and a small smile curved the end of his mouth upwards.
"In time Elessar you shall learn that as King you are not obligated to bow before anyone, be he man or Elf lord." Elrond smirked as Aragorn shifted beneath his seemingly stern gaze. The Elf motioned for Aragorn to continue packing his pipe, but Aragorn placed the piece upon the wall.
"I bow out of respect for a man who raised me as a son when he needn't have. You deserve such an honor, my Lord. I may be King, but you are still a far wiser and better man than I."
"You give credit where credit is not due, Estel. I doubted you and for that I am shamed. If it were not for Arwen's unwavering faith I might have abandoned you in those dark times. I was a fool. I can only hope that in time you will forgive the wrong I have done you." Elrond placed a hand on Aragorn's broad shoulder, his eyes dark with regret and shame. Aragorn lifted his own arm and rested it on the heavy velvet of Elrond's cloak. "There is nothing to forgive, Lord Elrond. I could never hold reservations against you. In truth it is I who must beg forgiveness of you."
Quizzically Elrond eyed the King. Aragorn continued. "I must ask your forgiveness for a serious wrong I have inflicted upon your kin. The guilt I bare is in taking your daughter." Elrond sighed, and moved from Aragorn.
"I cannot fault either of you for her choice. Like Luthien before her she will love a mortal and she will die for it. It pains my heart to accept that knowledge, but in her happiness with you I find solace." The Elf lord paced the worn stone walkway of the courtyard, before turning to look back at Aragorn. "She is most beloved of her people, Estel. Do not let the lessening of her life pass without the glory due her." He nodded towards the White city, and the crowds cheering below. "Show them the spirit that compelled your heart to resign itself to her. I want for them to accept her as you do. It cannot be forced, but it would ease the doubt weighing down this tired body."
Aragorn nodded as he walked back towards the palace beside the Elf. "Ay, my lord. I shall do what I can. I have faith in these people. Their hearts are good. They will recognize Arwen's righteousness."
Elrond smiled before wrapping an arm around Aragorn's shoulders. "Come, your Majesty. It is time to prepare you for your wedding." With that, the two men walked into the palace, away from the ongoing preparations.
Chapter 3:
Aragorn scanned the open expanse of the Pelennor fields, calm and quiet, it's grass bending and twisting with each gentle river breeze. Music and reveling could be heard from Osgiliath, as small firecrackers and brilliant bursts of sparkling color filled the twilight air with life.
He had spent the day preparing for his wedding, meeting with well- wishers and enjoying a lazy meal with his friends. Despite the pleasant company and joking, good food, and abundant wine, the King's mind was weary. Walking alone in thought, he had come to stand along the low wall of the courtyard, silently watching the city bustle with revelers all trying to catch a glimpse of activity along the palace walls. The sudden appearance of the King overlooking his people drew loud cheers and shouts, and Aragorn waved to his people, smiling and nodding his head in recognition.
With a final wave, Aragorn turned from the wall and sank to the ground, leaning against the rugged white stone of the banister and resting his arms on his bent knees. He looked up at the slowly emerging stars and ran a hand over his full dark beard. Various servants and palace attendants worked out the last little details to the scene besetting the courtyard. As they passed, they curtsied low to the King, though many wore a strange look on their face as they pondered why exactly the King would chose to sit on the ground instead of his throne a few short meters away.
Absently watching their tireless working, Aragorn allowed his mind to drift. The inability of his soldiers to discover the identity of Arwen's criticizer bothered Aragorn more then he wanted to admit. It troubled him to realize that there were those who feared his bride, simply because she was Elf-kind. Before last night, he would have found it incomprehensible for anyone to distrust or dislike the elf princess. It was a rude awakening to learn otherwise. That his own people were apprehensive of such a gentle heart showed Aragorn that the race of Men was full of the flaws Elrond had always spoke of.
He knew it had bothered Arwen. He had seen the hurt in her eyes as she had departed for bed. Despite the experiences her long life had garnered her, she was not accustomed to such outright hostility from anyone. In Rivendell her life had been peaceful, full of love and companionship from those she was most closely connected to. The harsh world of Men was still new to her, along with it's hardships and constant strife.
Aragorn sighed as he reached into his tunic and pulled out a long stemmed pipe. Drawing from his pocket a small pouch of Hobbit weed he began to pack the crispy leaf bits into the bowl of the pipe. A undetected presence standing over him reminded him that he must not lose his ranger skill now that he was a king. Looking up he saw the tall frame of Elrond. Quickly rising to his feet, he bowed to the imposing Elf lord. Elrond raised a dark eyebrow, and a small smile curved the end of his mouth upwards.
"In time Elessar you shall learn that as King you are not obligated to bow before anyone, be he man or Elf lord." Elrond smirked as Aragorn shifted beneath his seemingly stern gaze. The Elf motioned for Aragorn to continue packing his pipe, but Aragorn placed the piece upon the wall.
"I bow out of respect for a man who raised me as a son when he needn't have. You deserve such an honor, my Lord. I may be King, but you are still a far wiser and better man than I."
"You give credit where credit is not due, Estel. I doubted you and for that I am shamed. If it were not for Arwen's unwavering faith I might have abandoned you in those dark times. I was a fool. I can only hope that in time you will forgive the wrong I have done you." Elrond placed a hand on Aragorn's broad shoulder, his eyes dark with regret and shame. Aragorn lifted his own arm and rested it on the heavy velvet of Elrond's cloak. "There is nothing to forgive, Lord Elrond. I could never hold reservations against you. In truth it is I who must beg forgiveness of you."
Quizzically Elrond eyed the King. Aragorn continued. "I must ask your forgiveness for a serious wrong I have inflicted upon your kin. The guilt I bare is in taking your daughter." Elrond sighed, and moved from Aragorn.
"I cannot fault either of you for her choice. Like Luthien before her she will love a mortal and she will die for it. It pains my heart to accept that knowledge, but in her happiness with you I find solace." The Elf lord paced the worn stone walkway of the courtyard, before turning to look back at Aragorn. "She is most beloved of her people, Estel. Do not let the lessening of her life pass without the glory due her." He nodded towards the White city, and the crowds cheering below. "Show them the spirit that compelled your heart to resign itself to her. I want for them to accept her as you do. It cannot be forced, but it would ease the doubt weighing down this tired body."
Aragorn nodded as he walked back towards the palace beside the Elf. "Ay, my lord. I shall do what I can. I have faith in these people. Their hearts are good. They will recognize Arwen's righteousness."
Elrond smiled before wrapping an arm around Aragorn's shoulders. "Come, your Majesty. It is time to prepare you for your wedding." With that, the two men walked into the palace, away from the ongoing preparations.