AUTHOR'S NOTE: I am terribly sorry!! I really meant to get this on during the weekend but...it did not happen that way. I was quite tired and could not write very well until Sun. :) and I finally got situated with school. School is quite in the way with writing :D by the way. lindahoyland: thank you very much for the encouragement! I am not fond of school but I'll live :). Thank you everyone for your reviews!! And yes...there is plenty of fluff in this one and much to come ;). Enjoy ch. 29!!
After the hobbits were given quarters for the night, Arwen waited in a parlour where a fire burned fierce in the great hearth. The flickering light cast shadows about the room and danced in her grey eyes.
Aragorn entered the room silently, closing the door quietly behind him. "I knew you would be here."
"And I knew you would come," she said smiling.
He sat beside her and ran his fingers through her silken locks of midnight. She laid her head against his shoulder feeling his gentle touch and grasped his hand tightly.
"I also know what you wished to speak of, my love," she whispered.
His hand paused a moment in her hair. "I have come to expect such from you after our years together. You always seem to know what are my thoughts."
"As you do mine."
"Today I watched Sam with his daughter Elanor and...it created questions in my mind that I have not been able to shake. Once before they surfaced soon after we returned from Edoras, yet only now have they returned."
Arwen smiled. She had once had a vision of a young boy with dark hair and grey eyes leap into her arms laughing and grinning ear-to-ear. His face had not been clear as with her own sight, yet she knew who he was. Aragorn was thinking of an heir...or children at the least.
She nestled closer. "I know...They have been in my thoughts as well."
After spending a year in the restored dwellings of Annúminas, Aragorn and Arwen returned to Minas Tirith. The people rejoiced to see them come again and waited in the streets to welcome them home. The City of Kings was now more fair and mighty than it had ever been even in the days of its youth. King Elessar had blessed it beyond the cities of Men of Middle-earth and revealed the glory of Númenor in its white marble paths and gleaming walls.
Arwen lay undisturbed reading a thin book in an open room near a courtyard of the Citadel. A light breeze breathed softly through the trees and where she reclined in subtle concentration on a slender divan. Her pale green skirts had lifted to her calves so that her pale skin gleamed in the shrouded sunlight as her feet rested flat on the plush covering.
The book she read was a collection of lays and songs of Gondor even from thousands of years ago when it was first founded. They differed slightly from the style of the Elves, yet she enjoyed them just as much as men wrote their thoughts and dreams while between being warriors or lovers.
She did not stir even when Aragorn came quietly to her. His steps were soft and his stride long. His eyes were bright like stars as he looked upon his beloved and felt a love more infinite than the heavens, deeper than the Sea, and stronger than the roots of the mountains.
He sat at her knees and only then did she look away from her book. Her grey eyes smiled up at him as she slowly closed the book in her hands. His hand rested lightly on her bared leg as he gazed down upon her radiant face.
Aragorn's garments were rich red of kingly appearance and Arwen recalled the many times before in years previous when he would arrive in Rivendell in rugged, worn bearing. Even then she thought him a King of Men who had no equal.
She lifted a hand to run her fingers through the ends of his dark, smooth hair. "I walked among the stars waiting for you...and you came."
"I looked up from the earth where I walked and saw you, so I came, 1. melda." He glanced out into the courtyard. "Little needs doing this day and I sought for you in my heart."
Samwise Gamgee, his wife Rosie, and their daughter Elanor had recently departed after spending many months in Minas Tirith. Once Legolas had heard of the brave hobbit's return, he gathered up Gimli from Aglarond and all had had a merry meeting. Now Aragorn felt an absence as many times before that could only be truly filled by his most beloved.
"The Mid-year's feast approaches," Arwen murmured after setting the book aside. Her head rested against the divan. "I shall be glad of the day."
There was no need to explain. Aragorn and Arwen had finally been wed on Mid-year's Day long ago near the beginning of the Fourth Age. Each time it arrived in the year, their hearts rejoiced at the memory, yet many had begun to wonder if their King and Queen were to have an Heir to the Throne for it had already been twenty-tree years since. Both heard the considering though neither had mentioned it since Lake Evendim.
"And I also am glad of it," said Aragorn. His fingers slowly swept up and down her lower leg where her glimmering skin was bared in the soft sunlight.
"I wish Legolas and Gimli would have remained longer for they are pleasant company even with their friendly bantering. Ithilien and the Caves of Aglarond have never been more fair...as well as Gondor," said Arwen. She looked into Aragorn's eyes. "Estel, I have a greater respect for you than any King before you even in your bloodline. You have shown mercy, justice, wisdom, loyalty, and all else that is desired in a king. Most precious of all is the love you bear for all you people and all your lands. It was what was lacking in the kings who have failed before you. You shall never fail."
Aragorn watched her with an indeterminable expression until he bent to kiss her tenderly. Her hand came to his cheek, and he pulled back to gaze into her beautiful grey eyes adorned with thick, dark lashes.
"And I respect and adore you for the sacrifice you made for me long ago. Nothing I have done has compared in the least."
She brought her other hand to his face, holding it gently in her warm grasp. "You have fulfilled hundreds of hearts while I have for one alone."
"Nay, my love, there are many who have received courage and hope from you, yet you have not truly seen it. I am proud you are mine."
"As I am that you are mind," she whispered drawing his face closer. A smile appeared on her full lips as his eyes met hers.
More years passed and the Midsummer feast had come once again. They had become a glorious time of festivity in Gondor and the streets of Minas Tirith were littered with sweet flowers, yet the twenty-fifth of March was the only celebration that surpassed the festivities.
Prince Imrahil arrived in the City of Kings as well as many other lords and high men of the lands of Gondor. It was considered the highest honour to be invited to the Tower of Ecthelion for the great feasting that would take place there.
There was to be merrymaking of many sorts from the dawn to the night. Tournaments of the sword and bow began at noon, music was heard as sweet lilting upon the wind throughout the entire length of the day, and foods of all sorts filled the bellies of many along with wine and ale of the finest sort.
Noon drew on and the tournaments began in the fields before the gates of the bustling city. King Elessar rode out with the White Tree adorning his fine apparel with most of the people of the city who stood in the grass laughing and waiting. Arwen was at Aragorn's side brilliant beneath the sunlight as ever. Many wondered if Elessar would draw Andúril for they all had heard of his unsurpassed skill with the sword—or any weapon—and silently desired to see his use of the shining blade so renowned and bright. Would any be able to stand against it or its wielder?
Aragorn beheld the many men who planned to test one another standing along with the others. Most were young and fit, yet there were some few whose faces were lined with more years and flecks of grey were prominent in their dark hair. The men of Gondor were mighty and strong indeed.
It was quite a length of time before the champion arose in the bright field lifting his sword to the heavens in a cry of victory. He was young with shining blue eyes and long dark tresses glimmering in the sun that watched from above. He laughed at all the cheering that was also raised up with his keen blade, and his eyes fell upon his King who now waited for the clamour to commence. His eyes were far brighter and his bearing mightier as he stood gazing amongst the throng of tall, fair men and women.
"I congratulate you, young one," he said stepping forward to greet the champion. "What is your name?"
"Boromir son of Bergil, my King."
Aragorn was surprised at the name. "Son of Bergil...glad am I to meet you for your father and his have both done a great service to all of Gondor. They have taught you well, I see." He smiled slightly. From his name, he discerned the notion that the young man was named for Lord Faramir's long-past brother Boromir.
Boromir bowed. "I am honoured by your words, my King." He looked around at the hundreds of faces observing the two and appeared somewhat hesitant as he spoke. "The people...they and myself have often heard of your skill with the blade. Would you care to grant us a glimpse of this renown? To compete against the champion of this day is a perfect chance...as we may see it."
Aragorn met Boromir's gaze and then glanced about as he had done. He had spoken loud enough for the throng to hear and many nodded or appeared eager at the prospect.
"Let us see who truly is best!" cried a man amongst the multitude.
"Fight him!" called another soon after.
There was a long moment of silence as King Elessar contemplated the thought. He glanced over his shoulder to where Arwen stood with her horse's reins in her pale hand watching with a faint smile. He drew a deep breath and gestured with his hand.
"It will be done," he called out to all present. "Since you so desire to witness the words you have heard made valid...it will be done."
Boromir did not appear relieved or pleased but paled faintly. To contend with the King of the West—his King—would be an honour yet also a daunting task as he stood before hundreds of curious Gondorians.
Aragorn came to his horse to get his sword in its sheath. Arwen touched his hand, as he grasped the hilt, and her eyes searched his.
"Your skills have not diminished in the least even after these years. You knew."
"Yes, yet it would not be right to refuse the challenge."
Her eyes glinted with amusement. "There are some things all men have in common. None can turn away from a fight."
He laughed quietly and smiled when she lifted his hand to her lips.
"Then luck be with you though I know it ever is...and you shall not need it."
He drew Andúril from its silver sheath, and it glittered like flame in the light of the sun. Boromir readied his sword as Aragorn came forward. He stood a head taller, lean and noble with limbs as powerful as in his youth.
The fight lasted little time. Boromir practiced his best, yet Aragorn could not be near defeated. Andúril flashed like lightning as it came down on its opponent's sword and struck it to the ground.
Boromir lifted his hands and grinned. "You have bested me by far, my King. I must congratulate you this time." He bowed low and retrieved his sword from the grass.
King Elessar bowed as well. "Thank you, young Boromir. You have fought well and are a worthy opponent."
From ever on he remembered Bergil's son Boromir, the young and skilled man.
Evening fell on Mid-year's Day and Elessar and Undómiel entered Merethrond where the great feasting and celebrating was to take place for all of the invited guests. Joyous music swelled to the high ceiling and through the mighty stone hall as the many people gathered together to speak in merry conversation.
Dancing followed the grand meal as all drank and ate their fill. Most had taken a fair amount of wine as well, lightening their spirits to a more elevated height.
Aragorn watched those who had already begun to dance with the jubilant music and looked to Arwen beside him. He smiled brightly and took her hand in his. She questioned him with her grey gaze.
"Come," he murmured. "The night is young."
She smiled and rose with him to walk out to the open floor where the others moved lightly and nimbly to the joyous melodies so skilfully played. Her cheeks were a faint rose as she glanced about at the others who now watched their King and Queen.
Gracefully they went, not heeding the people surrounding them, as they were joined by many more men and women clothed in fair apparel. The music transformed and slowed into a soothing, haunting harmony. Arwen drew closer to Aragorn before they stepped away from the dancing and felt him pressed against her with a soothing heat. He wrapped his arms around her and set a kiss on her silken hair.
"The night is young," she whispered lifting her lips to his ear, her warm breath against it. "There are still many hours to spend."
His nose brushed against her throat as he brought his face close to hers. "Then let us spend them well, my lady." He smiled and ran a finger along her jaw line. Then she laughed softly as he nuzzled against her slender throat.
"Perhaps we should leave them to their dancing," Arwen murmured after grasping his face in her thumbs. "The music is beautiful. They are learning the skill of the Elves each day."
"Indeed. I believe this was surely created in honour of the Fair Folk...if I recall correctly," he said listening to the flowing melodies sweet and sorrowful but studying her shining eyes catching the light about them like bright gems.
They listened now more intently to the music. It felt they were drawn into a land many ages ago when the world was young and the Elves walked abundantly upon the earth, creating a brilliance that was now missed as they departed the Hither Shores. The trees bent as if bowing when they strode past, the wind sang to them in gentle tunes, and the water chimed greetings. The earth still spoke of their footsteps and rich voices, yet in anguish that they were greatly lessened.
Aragorn and Arwen moved slowly away from the throng who were merry in spirit and heart. The glittering stars greeted them as they came out beneath the open heavens violet with evening. There was a full moon that night casting a silvery light upon the fair city.
The two did not know the joy that would soon enter their lives for both felt that their years spent together were splendid and cherished, yet there was another who would need their everlasting love.