Chapter Four

Farewells

When King Elessar's closest friends and relatives, as well as other important head of state, had been notified of his intentions the palace fell into a state of quiet gloom.

The evening the steward's family was informed Tirion and Thalion promptly came to Eldarion's side to offer their condolences, adding their certainty of Eldarion's imminent success as king. Eldarion was polite and thanked them, then replaced his attention to the women on the other side of the room. Queen Arwen, Lady Eowyn, and Celebrian stood talking to one another in a calm, dignified fashion. Luthien and Gilraen were speaking with and embracing Faramir's daughters: Silwen and Theodwyn. Eldarion saw Theodwyn's face, composed, yet with sad eyes. Then she turned for a moment and looked at him, and his heart felt so heavy. Her expression was so sincere, so heartfelt, so gentle that he had to take his eyes away from it. What was meant to comfort him and sympathize with him felt like a knife in his chest. He did not usually weep, but he knew if he did not leave immediately he would begin to do so. He excused himself.

The following days came one after another, each with renewed grief and strain. The palace filled with people Eldarion did not really know, and he was required to be polite and civil to all of them. Lord Greenleaf came from the woods of Ithilien, and Gimli the dwarf from the Glittering Caves. The little people from the north arrived: hobbits of the Shire. Eldarion had seen their kind only when he was very young. They spoke with Aragorn much, recalling tales of their fathers who had traveled with him in the company of the Ring. The king was pleased with all the company. He was attitude was serene, and not overly joyful. It was clear that each moment spent with those he loved was becoming incredibly precious to him.

Then the day came when Aragorn said, "Tomorrow." He bid each of his friends, relatives, and officials one last farewell, and for the first time in his life Eldarion saw his father weep. Each tearful embrace ended with a resolute pat on the shoulder, and the comforting words, "We shall meet again."

Eldarion stood in the throne room leaning against one of the smooth columns, watching. His father's impending death seemed to him a terrible waste. There before him, before everyone, stood a man so strong, so secure, so confident, so alive. He was not lying on a sick bed whispering farewell through parched lips. No, he was on his feet, attired as a king, laughing and weeping simultaneously with his loved ones. There was no nurse, no physician present, at least none in the usual sense. But everyone could feel the presence of a healer. For as all said their good-byes they were conscious of a sense that they could carry on with life, that they would have the ability to overcome this sorrow. The ancient proverb was so true, Eldarion thought. In the hands of the king is healing.

Twilight descended. Aragorn took one long glance around the throne room, then asked everyone to leave and closed the doors behind them. He took the stairs to the corridor of the palace that was for the royal family. Eldarion followed at a distance, and then went to his own room. He sat gloomily hunched against his bookcase, wondering how he would ever make it through the night.

Screams in the room next to his startled him. He ran out immediately. The door to his sisters' room was wide open and a flood of light fell into the hall. He walked quickly to their door and peered inside. What he saw couldn't have surprised him more.

Aragorn was sitting on the bed tickling Luthien, who was shrieking with laughter. Celebrian and Gilraen were tossing pillows at their father, while giggling and talking at a velocity impossible for Eldarion to comprehend. At last Aragorn succumbed to the bombardment and pulled Luthien onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug. The other girls dropped the pillows and jumped onto the bed, getting as close to their father as possible and pleading for their turns. Eldarion wondered if they knew what a picture they formed: three grown girls in white nightgowns and flushed faces piled around their laughing father. He knew that if it were painted no one would know it had taken place on the eve of such great sorrow.

It was then that Aragorn looked up and saw his son standing in the hall.

"What is wrong, Eldarion? You look horrified," he said, smiling.

Eldarion shook his head in a dazed manner.

The girls motioned for him to enter, but Aragorn rose and asked them all to come with him to their family room. They did, the girls chattering with each other and Eldarion lagging behind.

Arwen was already there when they arrived, sitting on the rug before the fireplace. She smiled when they entered. Aragorn sat down beside her, and the children gathered around them.

"What are we doing, Ada?" Gilraen asked.

"We are going to talk the night away," he responded.

And they did. At first they talked of pleasant things, of memories and times gone by. Then Aragorn teased his children about their romances, and they all accepted it very well. Smiles were prevalent. Aragorn told them again the tale of how he met their mother, of their struggles and the long years of waiting before marriage. He told them of his escapades as a boy and his blunders as a man anything to make them laugh. Then they spoke of life in general, of good and evil. They discussed friends and pets, flora and fauna. They spoke of history and legend and family members long gone. Aragorn told them of the silmarils and Tenuviel and Beren, and Luthien smiled with sparkling eyes. He spoke of Elrond, Celeborn, Galadriel, and Celebrian, and he woke another daughter's happy face and the whispered words, "If only I could go to the Undying Lands." He told them of his mother and all that he had heard of his father, and Gilraen sighed contentedly, murmuring aloud her desire to meet her grandmother, as she had so many times before. He spoke of Elendil and the Faithful, of dark times for Numenor and strong men who persevered against evil. He talked of Valinor and Tol Eressa, of Earendil, of Elbereth, of Manwe, of Iluvatar. He told them of the beginning of days, of the stars, and of the seas.

Morning crept upon them slowly. At first it was a purple haze outside the windows, them it grew stronger and brighter. Yet all was still and calm and grey. No violent rays of gold fell on them.

A tap on the door made them all shift where they sat. A voice from the other side of the door announced the time to them. Aragorn thanked him. Day had come.

They all rose, stiff and sore from too many hours on the floor. They walked to the windows and looked out.

"Look, Ada. Even the sun is mourning for you. She is sad to see you leave," Gilraen said.

"It is just as well," Eldarion answered. "No one wants to see the sun today."