Chapter Two: Possession of Gondor

"He was a great man. The first time that I saw him I knew that he was the king, but then shortly after his coronation he was sent word that the woman he loved had died. She was an elf, the daughter of and elven lord I believe, and supposedly very beautiful although she never made it to the city. After that he changed. He no longer seemed to care about anyone or anything. His friends left just a month ago, saying they were needed in their own homes, but it was not hard to tell that it had actually been King Elessar that had driven them away." Maeve continued to brush Saeorii's long, dark hair as she spoke. "Now he holds council's daily but sits there says nothing and hears nothing. I feel sorry for him although I can't say as there are many others here who feel the same way." She set the brush down and looked at Saeorii in the mirror, pulling part of her hair back to reveal elven ears. "You are very beautiful; it is not very hard to see why Lord Faramir chose you."

Saeorii smiled at the kind woman who had cared for her since her coming to Gondor. She could not believe that already two weeks had passed and today she was to marry the king and be crowned. The sun was just rising as she opened the window to feel the cool winter breeze. Her back was still a little tender but other than that, she was better physically than she had been in years. She continued to look out the window as Maeve began to lace up the back of her new silk shift. Today for the first time she would wear a royal dress. Her wedding would be no more than a legal ceremony before the coronation at noon.

"You are here only because the laws state that the King must take a wife. I believe that you will find that in the absence of a king, the council of Gondor has learned to hold onto its laws and traditions very tightly. I had hoped that the return of the king might change that but he seems uninterested in changing anything. Your duties are really more for appearances than anything else. You are to attend the evening meals in the hall with the king. At any feast you must be present as well as any other celebration that may occur. You must attend foreign council's and welcome any guests that may arrive. I only hope that you can do more for Gondor than he has," he finished sadly.

The words of the steward played through her mind over and over as Maeve helped her into her dress. It was not the one she would wear to the coronation, with the colours of Gondor, but it was still more magnificent than anything she had ever worn. The dress was the same deep shade of blue as her eyes and was trimmed with silver. The top was tight and clung to her hourglass figure and then fell loosely at her hips, surrounding her on all sides with waves of fabric. She sat on the bed and turned so that Maeve could pin up her hair, and then finally wove tiny navy ribbons through it as a finishing touch.

She hadn't even realized that she had started crying again until Maeve handed her a silk handkerchief to wipe her tears. They sat in silence knowing that it would not be long now before someone came to lead her to the throne room where it would take place. They were not made to wait and soon there was a soft knock at the door. Saeorii wiped away what she told herself would be the last of the tears and took a deep breath, trying to pull herself together as Maeve went to open the door.


Aragorn stood staring at nothing as he waited for the woman that was to be his wife to be brought to him. He did not care. This marriage meant nothing, he would not be forced to love her, or even speak to her. It was all a formality. He had not been surprised at the council's objections when Faramir informed them that she was elf-kind, but when she was brought before them, during a council at which he was not present, their doubts seemed to have been abated somewhat and it was agreed that she would indeed be their choice. The way they were going about this reminded him rather of the way a rider picked out a horse. Find the one that looks the best and is obedient and that's the one he wants. She was merely a possession of Gondor, nothing more.

This was not how he had imagined himself being married. He had imagined a large celebration in Rivendell with all of his closest friends present. He could still see Arwen, beautiful in a soft gown of white with flowers woven through her elven crown. He could imagine her standing beside him with the golden sun shining on her dark hair, giving her an erethreal look. He could still taste the sweetness of her kiss; feel her slender hand in his own. No, this was not the wedding of Aragorn, merely the wedding of King Elessar of Gondor he told himself as the doors to his right opened and he turned to face her.


Saeorii did not even look at him. She kept her head bowed as she walked beside Faramir and then knelt before the steps on which the king stood. Faramir took her hand and gently led her to stand beside the king as the council, who were the only others that would be present, stepped forward to witness their joining. Faramir placed her hand in that of the king and she was surprised to find it rough like a soldier's and not soft like one who had been raised to be a king. She finally looked at him from the corner of her eye. He looked much younger than she had expected for she knew his age, and his skin was darkened by the sun. His hair was dark but she could not see his face to tell whether or not his eyes were cold steel as it was said.

The ceremony was short. They exchanged rings and drank from a cup of wine which was meant to show them as united. Then she stood next to him silently as they waited for those who would sign the certificate as witnesses. All too soon it was her turn and she could not stop one tear from falling to the parchment as she slowly wrote her name in the language of men. With that one word, her very name, she signed away the next years of her life. Her freedom that she had dreamed she would receive when her master released her now would not come until the death of this king to whom she was now wed. The councillors applauded as they turned and bowed and then he left; saying nothing and she was led once again down the halls towards her room.


Aragorn felt no shame in leaving the woman standing alone in front of his council. He felt nothing. She was as they had told him, very beautiful, but that mattered not. He locked the door to his chambers behind him and stood on his balcony despite the cold and the snow that swirled around him. He bowed his head and wished with every fibre of his being for this to be a nightmare and that soon he would awake next to Arwen. He could still feel her warmth in his arms as he said good-bye to her before leaving with the fellowship. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the shattered pieces of the necklace she had given him. It had shattered the day that Elrond later told him she died. He wanted more than anything to cry for her, but he would not allow himself as he had not since her death. To cry would be to admit that she was gone from him, forever, and he was not yet willing to do that.


Saeorii leaned against the thick wooden doors, noticing subconsciously that the two that guarded the door immediately stood straighter at her appearance. The past hours had been a blur and she wished for her mind to slow so that she could begin to sort through it all. She began down the hall but paused at the voice of one of the guards.

"Your majesty, pardon me, but would you like me to escort you to the king's chambers?"

The realization that she would now live in the same rooms, sleep in the same bed as the king hit her with the force of one of her masters blows. She only nodded weakly and allowed the man to lead her through the maze of halls she did not recognise. The robe that bore the white tree of Arnor was heavy upon her shoulders and her steps, hidden beneath her trailing gown, were slow. The wind howled outside the stone walls and she had been told that a fierce storm raged outside.

The guard opened the door before she even realized they had stopped. She thanked him quietly and felt the loud thud that echoed through the room as the doors were shut behind her. Lamps burned, casting strange shadows and giving the room a haunting look. It was a large room with chairs, a massive desk, and bookshelves. She noticed no more before Maeve walked through a door at the far end. She moved towards her and fell ungracefully into her open arms, weeping bitterly.


Aragorn was glad that the day was done. The queen had been excused early in the evening after having bid farewell to all who were present, however he had been asked to stay and speak with the council. It was becoming more and more obvious to him that those who were still loyal to Lord Denethor were overruling those who were not, and that was one thing that he might have to do something about. The councillors thought him to be completely ignorant to the ways of the court. He was not ignorant, he just didn't care. They would only get so far before they learned that.

He removed his royal attire and pulled on the loose tunic and leggings that served as his nightclothes before lying down and preparing himself for another sleepless night. None but Legolas seemed to be able to see the dark shadows under his eyes and he had dismissed his friends concerns as ridiculous and ignored the topic for the short remainder of his stay. He noticed for the first time in the darkness that surrounded him the sound of even breathing and remembered that these rooms were no longer solely his.

He turned his back to where he knew she must be; determined to ignore her presence completely. Soon though he found himself drifting off, the lulling sound of rhythmic breathing causing his eyelids to become heavy. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. He soon found his own breathing falling into the same even rhythm and noticed his eyes were closed and the sound of the howling wind was fading as he slipped from consciousness. In. Out. In. He sighed deeply, feeling the peace of a healing sleep. Out.

To be continued...

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