The guards of Gondor had received and carried out many orders in the name of their realm and the Man who ruled it but never before had they been able to derive such pleasure in doing just that as they were at that moment. "Lord Cirion," said the guard standing a breadth away from him as he seized his arms. A malicious glee spread through his body when the lord froze, but the guard was able to maintain his dignified composure. "You are under arrest for disrupting the court proceedings."
"No, I can't be!" protested Cirion desperately, turning his imploring eyes to the king and the prince. Aragorn was watching with a sort of stoic dispassion as he watched the guards take care of the problem. Legolas tensed though, torn between what he thought was the right thing to do in the name of justice and staying quiet and conceding to his husband's rule as was expected. In the end he knew that he had to trust, as he always had, in Aragorn's righteousness.
"I must speak!" Cirion went on as he fought against his instincts to struggle as more guards closed in around him.
"You have no right and are causing a scene," tuned in the guard Beren. He grabbed the disgraced lord's wrists, holding them together while he called out to whichever of his comrades were nearest: "Fetch some chains!"
"King Elessar," pleaded Cirion, never turning his eyes away from the royal couple. "Prince Legolas, please! I need to be allowed to speak on my daughter's behalf!"
"I apologize for the interruption, my lords," Beren addressed the throne, speaking loudly to drown out Cirion's voice. "I can assure you that we will have this situation under control in a matter of minutes; it will not happen again."
Aragorn cast a cold eye on Cirion. "Perhaps," he suggested to Beren frostily, for he had no compassion left for the Man after all that he'd put Legolas through, "you should try to gain control of the situation out in the corridor rather than in the middle of my throne room. He is making a mockery of the lady's crimes against – against Gondor and I want him removed immediately!"
"Please sire, you asked if anyone had anything to say in Nienor's defense!" Cirion cried as he felt Beren tighten his hold on his wrists even more – if that was possible – and begin to drag him away. His eyes strayed to Nienor, who stared back at him with a perfectly proper indignant expression at seeing someone of his high blood being treated in such a manner. It only served to further remind him of how important his testimony could very well be to her future. "I have something to say! I may be the only person present who is willing to speak on her behalf!"
"That invitation, as you should know, is only extended to the citizens of the realm and honored guests of the throne," responded Aragorn with dispassionate condescension. Inwardly, however, he was scolding himself for being too lenient as to let this interruption happen in the first place. Really, what had he expected would happen once Cirion was admitted into the trial? Now the incident would be the subject of gossip for months on end and a few people – those who were ignorant of the severity of the circumstances and/or unwilling to see anything but the supposed privilege of high blood – would question the king's fairness in enforcing the rules of the court. "You are here with my permission, not my invitation; and that permission was forfeit the moment that you chose to make a scene and disturb the trial."
"My lords, I beg of you, please!" Cirion slipped from Beren's vice-like grasp and stumbled to his knees. Everyone stared with bated breath as they waited for Cirion to rise to his feet and storm to the throne – they had come to expect nothing less from the lord – but he surprised them all by remaining down, bowing his head and clasping his hands outward. "I throw aside my pride; and good riddance to it, for it is the reason why all of us are here today. I agree with my daughter that a grievous injustice has been done against her but I am the one who perpetrated it. Please, please, please grant me the opportunity to explain her actions – it is my fault that she has committed these heinous crimes!"
"Father!" gasped Nienor. The sight of her brave, dignified father on his knees to bow before the elf that had gone out of his way to ruin the kingdom of Gondor in general and their family's lives in particular had been baffling enough. Surely he didn't mean it when he implied that what she had done in the name of justice had been wrong! "Why are you saying these things?"
"Because they are true," he told her despondently.
She shook her head stubbornly and looked suspiciously at Legolas, who set his jaw and let his hands flitter down to his swollen stomach. "It is that elf, isn't it?" she demanded in a stage whisper that, of course, everyone could hear. Cirion flinched as her voice seemed to echo throughout the room. "He is controlling you somehow."
"Please, pay no attention to her words because they were once mine. I have destroyed my daughter," said Cirion to Aragorn and Legolas, and the admission pained him in a way that he never thought possible because he had never grasped how true that was until he said it out loud. "Her crimes are but an extension of my own; against her well being, against Prince Legolas, whom I acknowledge as the rightful husband to the King Elessar of Gondor, and against the throne and realm themselves. All I ask for – I plead for – is the opportunity to make that known to all those who are to judge her, both officially and unofficially."
The king stared at him for several moments as he silently debated what to do. He was under no obligation to allow Cirion – a disgraced former citizen exiled for treason – to speak, nor was he inclined to do so. He despised the lord for all of the pain that he had inflicted on Legolas – not for the insults, disrespect, or even the accusations of being unfaithful, because the elf had not let them trouble him and could even laugh them off as the rants of a jealous and insane fool. What Aragorn really hated Cirion for were his words to his husband before Legolas had found out that he was pregnant. The lord had harassed him about the perceived impossibility of him providing Aragorn with any heirs, ignoring all of the anguish that it had caused him. The lowest, most despicable of it all was when he started to pressure Legolas to encourage his husband to have an affair to amend the matter. The Man recalled darkly that conversation over breakfast that they'd had at Bree months ago when his husband's guilt, combined with the fact that he believed that he was dying, almost drove him to give in to the lord's forceful requests. Now the tables had been turned and Aragorn could see no reason why he should allow Cirion the opportunity to protect his loved one when he'd had no qualms about hurting the person that the king loved most.
He looked over at Legolas, who was doing a remarkable job of remaining stoic though his hands showed signs of tension, and then over to their family and friends for a kind of affirmation in his convictions as well as to see how they were reacting to Cirion's pleas. Gimli, he was relieved to note, still had a firm grasp on Thranduil's hand to anchor both of them from behaving in a manner unbefitting of royal guests. Aragorn blinked as a thought struck him: a dwarf holding an elf's hand…that dwarf providing comfort and strength to that elf…even after the years of bad blood between their races and between Thranduil and Gimli's father…by Elbereth, he never really comprehended what a strange thing that was before! Yet there they stood, released from the hatred of the past because – well, because Legolas had loved Aragorn enough to make peace with Gimli so that the Man's task during the Quest would be made that much easier. 'But that has nothing to do with what's happening now,' Aragorn told himself, though he had some inklings of doubt forming at the edges of his mind. 'Neither Legolas nor Gimli were never directly involved with the incident between their fathers.'
But the truce between the sons had led eventually to a truce between the fathers. Somehow, Gloin and Thranduil had reached an unsolicited truce, acknowledging the fact that their feud meant very little during their races' dwindling years and reaching that understanding for Gimli's sake. The disagreement about who was right and who was wrong stayed the same – Thranduil was still insistent that Gloin had been disrespectful to his authority and Gloin held firm to the belief that he had been imprisoned unfairly – but they chose not to let it interfere with how they related to the rest of the world. Even before that, the old dwarf risked his own pride and life to try to come to Legolas' aid when Nienor had threatened him and their child; all because he respected the king of Gondor and cared too much about his son to let anything happen to someone who meant so much to the both of them. 'Letting go and moving on is more productive than clinging to past injuries and using them as an excuse as to why it's not your fault that the world is drowning in mistrust and hate;' that was something that his father used to tell him.
Elrond's wise but warm face flashed into Aragorn's mind and he missed him more keenly than ever. When the Man felt truly lost while trying to figure out what the right thing to do was he always asked himself what kind of a ruler that he wanted to be. The answer to that question was always the same: he wanted to rule in a manner that made people remark that he was truly the son of Lord Elrond of Rivendell, wise and compassionate in all of his dealings. If faced with this situation what decision would Elrond have made? Aragorn knew, and he suddenly understood why his father had frowned so much – it wasn't easy being the bigger and fairer person.
"I will allow this," he declared with the slightest hitch in his pacing as he almost gagged on the words. "You may step forward and speak, Lord Cirion."
Cirion had to restrain himself from running to the foot of the throne to stand beside Nienor. "Thank you," he breathed gratefully. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."
"Cease that at once," ordered Aragorn in reply, immensely disliking the idea of the lord having anything to be grateful to him about. "I grow weary of your voice and presence in my realm, Lord Cirion, and wish to hear no more from you than what I have given permission for you to speak. I suggest that you say what it is that you feel compelled to say before my patience runs out entirely."
In need of no more prompting, Cirion drew in a deep breath and plunged in. "Nienor is my only child and I wanted what was best for her." He stopped himself and shut his eyes briefly. There could be no more lying to himself, not today when the truth was so important. "No, that is not entirely true; I wanted what was best for me and I convinced myself that what I wanted was best for her as well."
"And what might that have been?" asked Aragorn tightly. He already knew the answer but wanted to see the once proud lord choke it out.
"All I wanted was for her to enter into the most advantageous marriage imaginable," replied Cirion with much shame. "And in my eyes, that was one with the Man who was to rule the realm of Gondor. By the Valar, she was only spared from me seeking a marriage contract with Denethor because she was too young by societal standards for that! As I poured all of the time and energy that I should have spent on being her father into molding her into the 'perfect wife,' I also sought out Lord Boromir constantly to forge a marriage contract between them. He never agreed – he was a brave Man of warfare and had no mind to take a spouse, but that did not stop me from constantly harassing him about it."
From his position in the crowd Sam snorted under his breath. "Having to deal with both him and that father of his," he muttered to his fellow hobbits. "No wonder he came apart like he did."
"Then he departed and never returned," Cirion continued, "and my thoughts turned to the Lord Faramir; but he was ever abroad and knew only rumors of my intentions. Had I known where he was I have no doubt that I would have ridden out to him even if he were in Osgiliath when it was under siege, so driven and obsessed I was. Then – then you came to the city, King Elessar, and my focus bent towards you. Onto you I projected all of my ambition to the point that I showed open disrespect for your husband and your marriage. Looking back with a clearer eye, all I can do is marvel that you endured my behavior and treasonous words for as long as you did."
"It was not I who had to endure the worst of it," hissed Aragorn furiously, forgetting himself for a moment as he remembered the distraught look in Legolas' eyes that morning in Bree when he told the Man that Cirion 'has a point' about the kingdom needing an heir.
"I know, and that is one of my greatest crimes," conceded Cirion before he turned to Legolas and looked him in the eyes for possibly the first time ever. "My behavior toward you was abhorrent, Prince Legolas. I saw you not as a person but as an obstacle to all of my plans. Because of this self-inflicted misconception I took it upon myself to shame you about something that you have no control over – your ability to reproduce – and then sought to punish you when what I believed to be true turned out to be inaccurate. I made crude assumptions about the nature of elves, telling myself that it was all fact and that you did not deserve to be the king's spouse because of it. I even went so far as to manufacture an imaginary feud between us to attempt to gain sympathy from my fellow advisors – something that they were wise enough to see right through and reject – when you were never my enemy. By this I have earned the dishonorable title of traitor and the exile that goes along with it many times over; and the only thing I can think to do now to make any amends is to offer my most heartfelt apology."
Legolas nodded slowly, graciously, in the direction of the lord. "I accept," he said, "for now you understand what you did and I have no desire to be angry with you."
As much as he admired Legolas' compassion, Aragorn still wasn't convinced by Cirion's contrite act. "You have said much to make amends on your own behalf," the Man said curtly, "yet you have said precious little in defense of the lady. Since I have no intention of reversing your exile no matter how sorry you are, I insist that you either say what you claimed to have come here to say or leave now. How are you responsible for Lady Nienor's crimes?"
"I was her teacher, King Elessar," said Cirion, the depth of his anguish unfathomable. "All of the bitterness I felt at the perceived unfairness of being denied a chance to become part of the royal family transferred unfettered to my daughter through my treasonous rants at home. I taught her that she had the right to be your queen, that the Prince Legolas was robbing her of that right, and above all that I was always right in every respect; and she took all of those lessons to heart. Most of all, I failed her as a father, sire; I was so obsessed first with finding her a ruling husband and then with the reason that I thought was preventing her from becoming queen that I did not tell her that I would still love her even if she never held that title. She thought – she thought that I did not want to be her father if she had no chance at becoming your wife, that I believed that she was a failure somehow, and that drove her to despair and desperation. I am so sorry, Nienor."
The lady stared at him as if he had gone insane. "Why do you keep saying all of these things?" she cried, confused. None of this made any sense! In the simple world inside of her mind she was supposed to be the queen of Gondor, that the elf was a wanton whore, and that her father only deserved the best daughter that marriage could give him. "You are the father of the wife of Gondor's ruler –"
"I am your father, Nienor," stressed Cirion gently.
Legolas closed his eyes as he recalled the lady's words on that fateful day in the garden. Clutching that knife while his stomach bled, he was still able to muster sympathy for her as she despaired over how Cirion was 'never Nienor's' father. If only he hadn't been so stubborn! Had he seen the errors of his ways and told her before what he was telling her now, would any of this have happened? There was no way to know for sure, but he still mourned the fact that perhaps knowing that her father loved her would have stopped the lady from destroying her own life while trying to destroy that of him and his son.
"This whole affair is all my fault," concluded Cirion, squaring his shoulders and standing tall for the first time since Nienor's arrest. The weight of guilt had somewhat lifted now that he had admitted all of this to the king and prince; now he felt strong enough to be ready for whatever was to come. "If you are to punish anyone this day, let that person be me."
Aragorn had to remind himself to breathe, so stunned was he to actually hear words of remorse and repentance coming from Cirion's mouth. It seemed that one more wormtongue had recognized that what he had done was wrong just in time to be too late. It comforted him, though, for now he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was going to do the right thing.
"I appreciate your humbleness, Lord Cirion, but you provide a reason for why your daughter committed these crimes, not an excuse," said the king of Gondor. His eyes strayed to Faramir for a moment and he had to keep himself from gasping when he saw Boromir standing in place of his steward. "Many a good person has face the pressures of a demanding, even obsessive parent. Some of them have not fallen so utterly into disgrace; and some of them had the support of others, but not all of them. The others that did give in" – 'forgive me; I did not see it' begged the ghostly figure as he lay dying in those woods, choking on his own blood; but he need not ask because Aragorn had already done that –"among them are those who kept their honor by facing the consequences of their actions."
The ghost of the past faded and Aragorn's sense of compassion was restored. "I have, however, taken your part in this into consideration," he told Cirion as his hand sought out and found Legolas' slender fingers. "And you are not the only one who has spoken out on the lady's behalf. As one of her intended victims and as my husband you have born witness to everything that has gone on here today, Prince Legolas. Are your thoughts on the matter still the same?"
Legolas swallowed hard. "They are," he proclaimed softly, feeling so many emotions at once that it was difficult for him to keep them all straight. This was harder than he thought that it would be, yet his convictions had been upheld and he remained strong. "I cannot speak for my child, but for my part I forgive Lady Nienor."
Nienor had never felt so rudderless in her life. She couldn't just let go of a lifetime of expectations and years of indignant suffering without warning. "I do not want your forgiveness!"
"That does not matter; you have it nonetheless."
"Lady Nienor," proclaimed Aragorn authoritatively, seeking to cut off any response that she might have. He didn't want her to converse with his husband any longer. "You have attempted to murder the prince consort and unborn heir of Gondor, trespassed in restricted parts of the citadel, and spoke treasonous words. In all of this you have shown no remorse, though now that I see you I doubt that you understand the magnitude of your crimes. In light of Prince Legolas' forgiveness and your father's testimony, I will not end your life by means of execution or lifelong imprisonment; but you will be put away until my child is old enough to plausibly defend himself. Therefore, as the king of Gondor, I judge it to be fair to sentence you to thirteen years in the dungeons."
Murmurs ran through the crowd. Debates started immediately about whether the king had been too lenient in not executing her or too harsh in sending a noblewoman to such a dank place until her childbearing years were almost behind her. Nienor herself looked stricken, realizing for the first time that her father could not fix this, that Aragorn wouldn't forsake his marriage to be with her; and, for all her fantasies, she was actually going to be punished. Cirion, a broken Man at last, began to weep.
"Silence! I am not finished," commanded Aragorn sternly. "You are exiled form these lands as well, Lady Nienor; never again will you set foot in Gondor. Since that is the case, you will have to carry out your sentence in Dol Amroth."
A sob stuck in Cirion's throat at the mention of the land. "Prince Imrahil has been kind enough to agree to house you there, as he has been to admit your parents to his land as well. It will be up to him to decide the details of your punishment, but I will not oppose it if he decides to allow your parents to visit you frequently. I suggest, Lord Cirion, that you use these years to correct the skewed notions that you've set in your daughter's head. Now it is time for the both of you to leave my kingdom."
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Much later, after the trial was over and the last portions of the crowd had finally dispersed, Gimli dragged Thranduil out of the city. "Gimli," scolded the elf as the ground beneath his feet passed from stone to grass. "Can this not wait? This has been a stressfultime for my Little Greenleaf – we should really spend time with him now."
"No we shouldn't," countered Gimli, his tone kind. "He and Aragorn need to spend some time alone together and the two of us need some air. I know that you can usually find refuge in the gardens of the city and I take solace from the stones but, as you said, this has been a trying day and it would benefit us both to stand in an open space for a change."
"Trying day? Are you attempting to be funny?" asked Thranduil with false lightness. His knees trembled a bit and he sank to the ground. "Although your pun is apt. I did not think that I could get through the trial without doing something terribly rash. Thank you for being there for me, Gimli; I am as glad for you as I am that this day is finally over with."
Gimli sat down facing him. "I am too."
"He was so – strong and gracious." Thranduil smiled proudly and nostalgically. "He gets that from his mother."
"Aye, but he gets that from you as well," said Gimli knowingly. "I'm so proud of that laddie; of his husband too."
"Yes, Aragorn carried himself quite impressively," agreed Thranduil, his voice full of emotion. "It was odd; there I stood in a Mannish court looking up at a Mannish king and yet I could have sworn that it was the Lord Elrond who was presiding. He is indeed a son of Elrond, and to think –"
His voice cut off suddenly as a strange tremor ran through the ground and the birds began to sing rapidly. The elf cocked his head to the side, listening to all of what they had to say. "What is it?" Gimli demanded curiously.
"Shh – the land and the birds are speaking," replied Thranduil urgently.
"And what do they say?"
Thranduil's attentive expression gave way to a long-suffering, exasperated look that also invaded his tone. "Speaking of which," he muttered, staring off into the distance at movement that was just beyond his elven eyes but wouldn't be for long. "Finally."
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
"Legolas," asked Aragorn tentatively as he closed the door of their bedchamber behind them. He watched with growing concern as his usually graceful husband stumbled over to the bed. "Are you well, my love?"
"I'm –" Legolas cut himself off before the automatic answer of 'I'm fine' left his tongue. "I'm not feeling very well. Not ill, exactly – more, uncomfortable. I think – I think that it would be best if I laid down for awhile. Could you get my robe for me?"
Aragorn threw him one more concerned look before striding quickly over to their closet. "Of course," he said, pulling out the garment as Legolas shed his tunic. "But are you sure that this is all you need? Would you like me to send for a healing woman?"
"I – I don't know," answered Legolas shakily, pulling down his leggings. "I feel" – his eyes widened when an unexpected stain inside that garment caught his eye. "Ai Elbereth."
The frightened tone scared Aragorn even more. "Legolas?"
The elf didn't answer. Wrapped up in his own confused and stricken thoughts, Legolas reached down and touched himself, placing a hand on the juncture between his legs. Aragorn was about to ask what he was doing and how that related to his onset of fear when he pulled it out again. The Man's heart seemed to stop when he saw what had drawn his husband's attention.
"Aragorn," breathed Legolas, staring at his reddened hand. "I'm bleeding."
To be continued…
A/N: Wow - this story now has over 600 reviews. Thank you so much!
A/N: I waivered so much on how long Nienor's sentence should be - thank God I'm not the ruler of Gondor (or sitting on a jury, or a judge)!