Title: Taken

Author: Crimson Coin Aragorn yearns for the life he has left behind. But his desires are fulfilled in a way he never imagined.

Rating: PG13. R in later chapters

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters within. They are from the mind of Tolkien and are borrowed.

Archiving: Ask first, please.

Never before had he been faced with such insurmountable frustration. And as Aragorn sat in the large chair of his study, mulling over the many different papers on his desk, he could not escape the inevitable.

Did his wife lie? Was she simply mistaken about his court? He had not seen or heard such displeasures, though he was also too busy enraptured in the bliss of his marriage.

He wished to see her, to speak with her and yet words had suddenly escaped him. What could he say? What could he do? He could always take her in his arms and show her just how much he loved her and yet that solution seemed not to be a solution at all. She does not doubt his love or loyalty. Her doubts lie within the hearts of others.

A soft rasp on the wooden door broke his attention and he quickly gathered a pile of papers, stacking them in the attempts to appear at work. "Enter."

The door opened slowly and the King recognized the one who entered without even looking up. Aragorn refused to raise his eyes but instead kept keenly focused on whichever paper was on top of his pile. "Faramir, my friend, what brings you here?"

"I have come to see if you wish for my assistance with any matters of state."

Aragorn shook his head. "Nay, I do not. I believe I have everything well controlled. Is there anything else you require?" He looked up at that question and a flood of guilt raided his senses at the unease of his Steward. "I am sorry, my friend. I did not mean to put you ill at ease."

"There is no offense, Sire," Faramir said with a polite nod. "I sense your trouble and only wish to ease your suffering. Perhaps you would like me to see over matters of state. You can retire for the evening and go to your wife."

Aragorn let out a bitter chuckle. "I do not believe that is wise. I enjoy the distraction my work offers. And I fear that my wife's company would not be the wisest of meetings."

"Trouble?"

Aragorn smiled, meeting the curious eyes of his friend. "I know we passed you in the Market square, Faramir. Do not play naïve. Come. Sit."

Faramir obeyed, taking the seat in front of the King's desk. His eyes wandered over the mass of unfinished work and a smile pulled at his lips. "I do see you are indeed distracted, my Lord."

"Why say you this?"

Faramir pointed at the papers that sat before the King. "Those reports you were studying so carefully are upside down."

Quickly placing the papers to the side, a teasing smile fell onto Aragorn's face. "And you would do mind not to point out your King's idiocy."

Laughing his response, Faramir settled back into the high back chair. "If it so pleases thee, I shan't make another such comment."

"Tell me, Faramir," the King began, leaning forward, his elbows propped on the desk and his chin resting on his thumbs. "And do please be honest with me."

"Of course," Faramir answered, his tone as serious as the King's.

"Is Eowyn happy?"

Taken aback by his question, the Steward stiffened slightly. "I believe she is, my Lord, yet I do see the remnants of shadow in her eyes. Why do you ask?" He couldn't admit his fear to the king. He had to bite his tongue about his doubts of her true affection. Faramir knew he was not first in Eowyn's heart and he readily accepted he may never be. But he was not bound to yield his wife to his King, if that was indeed was Aragorn's intention. Perhaps the King regretted his decision to deny the Shieldmaiden of Rohan. Perhaps Aragorn truly loved her and yet did not realize it till this moment. Faramir swallowed hard. Perhaps he needed to cease his mind from racing with such absurdities.

Aragorn kept his eyes on his desk, his gaze tracing the intricate wooden grain. "Though the great war has ended, another war is still brimmed. There are battles and treaties despite this time of peace. I have long wondered if our lands will ever truly be at peace. And now I wonder if our private lives will ever be at rest."

Faramir did not speak but held his head high, his eyes unwavering.

"Even if peace can be found in our lands, I can finally see the battle that will continue within my own walls."

Guarded, Faramir inhaled sharply. "If you mean to accuse me of disloyalty to take your thrown, I assure you, My Liege, that I have no such intension."

"Not you," Aragorn clarified. "I meant no attack on you. I mean the disapproval of my choice of Queen. I just cannot believe that I had not seen it before this moment."

"I am afraid that I do not understand."

Aragorn sighed. "Arwen brought something to my attention that I had not realized. I did not know my court disapproved of her. I knew it would take some time but ... when they saw her I thought they loved her. She would never do them wrong or wish ill upon any."

"It is not most of the court," Faramir said with confidence. "I know many of those nobles and though drab and boring at times, they hold no ill will towards the Queen. They think she exotic and kind and truly a wonderful Queen. It has been long since a woman roamed these halls. Perhaps they are unused to such a thing."

"Perhaps," Aragorn agreed. "Or perhaps not. But I fear I know not what to do. I wish to tell you something, Faramir. Something I have not disclosed to anyone but a single being once before."

"I am honored, My Lord," Faramir replied with a polite nod of the head.

"I am not a man who fears many things. But there is one fear that weighs heavy on my soul and even more so now. I believe my wife has regretted her decision. I know what you will say and yes, I know it has been such a short time but I still have this suspicion that she yearns for her family and for the sea. I fear that I am unable to quench her thirst, to fill her hunger."

The King let his words settle, making sure he spoke correctly. "Today, my wife acted in a way that I did not recognize. She lost control of her anger, her emotions swept her away and there was naught that I could do. I fear she does not even wish to lay eyes on me at this moment for she seemed so angered and horrified at herself for being so emotional."

Faramir did not speak. His fears raced through his mind but he refused to voice them. Aragorn was usually not this open, at least towards him. The King acted full of regret and Faramir could only pinpoint that regret within his own uncertainties. For what did the King search? What did he see to gain from bearing his soul?

The King jumped as a heavy knock resounded on the door and just as his heart relaxed, the wooden door pushed open. A guard's helmet poked inside, the man barely visible. "Your Majesty, guests have arrived."

As soon as the words were spoken, a stout dwarf pushed into the room, a beaming smile on his face and a cheerful glint in his eye. "Aye, Ari, it has been a while."

Aragorn laughed and stood as Gimli and Legolas entered the room, the Elf far more reserved than his Dwarven friend.

Gimli extended a friendly hand, eagerly grasping the King's forearm in greeting before turning to the Steward and offering the same. Legolas, a bit more formal, bowed first to both Lords then extended his hand in greeting.

Aragorn smiled, all earlier evidence of his troubles now wiped from his expression. "It has been some time indeed, my Friends, though only a few months. Was Ithilien so boring to two such adventurous warriors?"

"No, indeed." Legolas responded with a soft smile. "There are always adventures to be had. But my coming is for the Lord Steward. I have news regarding his home and the reconstruction of Emyn Arnen and all the surrounding lands."

Faramir's eyes brightened at the concept. "I have been waiting for such news. In honesty, I have been wishing for the time I may return to Ithilien and oversee construction myself. Perhaps that time has finally arrived."

"Aye, my good friend," Aragorn said with a brotherly clasp of Faramir's shoulder. "You and your wife can retreat to Ithilien and be rid of these drab Gondorian courts."

A haunting sensation flooded Faramir at those words. The King was trying to be rid of them. Was Eowyn's presence too much for him to bear? Faramir never took himself for a jealous man even when his Father's love for him never equaled that to his brother. But jealousy surged through his entire body. He was used to being second in the hearts of many, but to be placed such in the eyes of his wife was heartbreaking. He felt that she loved him. The way she spoke to him would send chills down his spine. Her eyes would blaze with a smoldering passion that he had never seen. She loved him, did she not?

Gimli laughed, shaking his hands at his taller companions. "But we shall not talk such business now. It is time for some celebration. A reunion of friends. Come. Let us drink."

Aragorn stood. "Then we shall have drink brought to us." A tentative knock on his study door quieted the room. "Enter."

Slowly, the study door pushed open and a young guard no older than twenty stepped inside. "Your Majesty?"

"Yes, what is it?" Aragorn responded, lightheartedly. "Come come. Speak, My Boy."

Buryn swallowed nervously, trying to hold his composure. The news he brought was worse than before. "There has been trouble, My Lord." He forced out then raised his head high as the room quieted. "Some time ago, the Queen left her room in her riding gear."

The King's eyes flashed as he ceased his actions and turned full attention to his guard. "Go on. Leave nothing out."

Buryn continued. "She ordered us to tell no one and we would not disobey our Queen. The eldest guard at her door said that we shall obey the Queen and give her one hour before we inform you but he also sent a few guards after her, to accompany her. It has been three hours since she left."

Aragorn stepped closer, his expression darkening at the open-endedness of that last statement. "Why did you not come immediately or even after that one allotted hour? What of my wife?"

All color drained from Buryn's face. "One of those guards just returned. He says they were attacked."

Aragorn dropped everything in his hands, rushing to the door.

"He's in the House of Healing!" Buryn called after the King. "He's badly wounded." But none heard his last wounds as the study door closed behind those exiting.

The healers bustled silently. A man lay naked in the center of a cot with nothing but a thin sheet draped over his hips yet his legs still exposed, his side gauged open and an arrow protruded from his left thigh. He moaned restlessly, a wince permanently etched on his face.

"Move quickly," the elder healer rushed, moving to the bedside and placed his hands on the injured thigh. "From the wound, this arrow was barbed. We have to push it through."

"It seems far enough away from the bone," another healer clarified. "We must hold him down."

The injured soldier gritted his teeth. "I am a man. I fear no pain."

"I know, my Child," an elderly woman sighed from her place at his bedside. She continued to wipe a cool cloth across his brow, trying to sooth him and keep the fever down. "Here," she held out a cylindrical wooden stick, fairly thick. "Bite on this."

The soldier opened his mouth, welcoming the bit and he quickly sunk his teeth into the soft wood. His eyes watered with the pain and he offered a short nod, allotting his readiness.

Two other guards approached him, holding his shoulders down as another held onto his legs, keeping him pinned to the bed so he would not jerk at the pain. Another healer poured some clear water over the gauge in his side, washing away any dirt and grime then rubbed a soothing balm over the injured man's chest and abs.

The man hissed as a collection of crushed herbs were pressed into his side and his eyes fluttered at the burning sensation that coursed through his body. The healer then gathered a large linen bandage and held it against the deep slice in his flesh, trying to clot the blood.

"Are you ready?"

The injured man nodded, squeezing his eyes shot and he hissed with a slight cry of pain when the arrow was broken in half. Another moan slipped his lips as his breath increased, ragged and strained as he fought to remain conscious.

"Wait!"

The healers jostled at the command and when the impassioned King approached the bedside, none questioned him. "Your Majesty," the elder healer said respectfully. "We were just about to remove the arrow. His injuries are ..."

Aragorn ignored the words from the healer's mouth, his eyes focused on the man in the bed. "What of my wife?"

The soldier panted, his eyes swimming with stars as the dark realm of the unconscious wafted around him. He knew he had to answer the king. He had to tell him before it was too late.

"Answer me!" The King demanded, a crazed glint in his usually calm and comforting eyes and he grabbed that cylindrical wood and removed it from the man's mouth. "Speak!"

"They've taken her." The man forced out through the pain.

"My Lord, he will die if we do not hurry."

"As will me Queen," Aragorn spat at the healer. "This man will be fine. Tell me more."

The soldier swallowed hard. "She rode North. We followed her. To the forests. There was an ambush there. Waiting. It was as if they knew. They were expecting us. Too many ..." he hissed, squirming in the bed. He barely noted the presence of others, only knew his Steward and two others stood near the doorway. "We were only four and the Queen. She drew her sword. There were twenty. They killed our horses."

"Twenty what?" The King asked, impatient. "Twenty what? What were they? Orcs?"

"Orcs and men," the soldier forced out. "We were out numbered. My men died around me. And I saw them take her. She was calm." He let out a squeaked moan, shifting again as the pain seared down his leg. "I was already on the ground. And I was trying to push up ... to get to her ... to save her."

"Yes?"

The soldier licked his chapped bleeding lips. "And then she looked at me and ... and I heard her ... in my head. She told me not to move. She told me to take her horse and to go back to the city. To tell you. Then I saw her horse in the woods, waiting or ... something ... I don't know. But then she looked at her horse a moment then back to me. And I heard her in my head ... calming me. It ... I don't know."

Aragorn sighed, his eyes closed as he pressed a hand into his eyes.

"Then they were gone ... rode further North ... along the forest boarders." The soldier swallowed hard again, his eyes dilated and clouding over. "Her horse came from the woods then and came to me ... like it knew. He ... he got down to the ground and let me pull up onto his bare back. And then he ... was careful ... as he brought me back here."

Stilling his emotions, the King placed the bit back into the man's mouth. "Bite down."

The soldier obeyed and when the King turned his back, the healers resumed their task.

Aragorn bowed his head, walking to the door and he shuddered when the soldier let out a strangled cry. He closed his eyes against the sympathetic pain.

Gimli stepped forward, looking up expectantly into Aragorn's eyes. "Ari?"

Aragorn pressed his lips tightly together, not saying anything as his mind raced with possibilities.

"I'm going with you," Faramir pledged.

"No," Aragorn said, softly. "You have to stay and run the city."

"I'll write to my Uncle," Faramir said. "He is in Edoras with Eomer and will come as soon as he can though I know not of his business in Rohan. Oh, but Lothíriel is with him. I'll have to insist she stay behind. The roads are unsafe." When Aragorn still looked apprehensive, Faramir stepped closer, speaking in a much softer tone. "Were our roles reversed, I know you would do the same as I."

"A small party," Aragorn finally said. "We shall move quick and fast. We don't have much time. We leave at first light. Legolas, check the stables, be sure our horses are ready. Gimli, come with me. I'll write a quick letter to Imrahil and have a courier set out right away. Then we shall see my Captains to find the best of men to accompany us."

"What of me, My Lord?" Faramir asked.

Aragorn turned saddened eyes onto his friend. "Go. Make love to your wife. We ride at dawn."

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