Chapter 14: Until We Meet Again
Aragorn had spent most of the night speaking with the young prince of Nian. The night had been dark as had their words for what they spoke of was painful to both their hearts but especially his as he could not stand to think of all that had been done to his beloved. He could not help but think that there must have been something that he could have done to spare her pain, but he knew there was not. Only an hour ago had he returned to his own chambers from those he had instructed to be prepared for the prince and since his return he had not moved from the seat before the dwindling fire where could watch Saeorii as she slept. Her dark hair was pulled back in a braid and he could see the smoothness of her skin from across the room and the darkness of her soft lashes against her alabaster cheek. She sighed in her sleep and moved slightly so that the blankets fell away. He stood and pulled them around her once more, lingering long enough to gently brush his rough hand against her cheek before walking onto the balcony where he could see the stars beginning to disappear in preparation for the rising of the sun.
He leaned against the stone railing and looked towards the horizon. At this moment he wished more than ever that his father or brothers were here for he could tell them of his anger and they would understand. He could tell them of his sorrow and they would not laugh. He could tell them of his joy and they would share his laughter. He could tell them of his love for the beautiful elleth that lay sleeping in the next room and they would celebrate with him.
Saeorii felt the tightening of her chest with each step that echoed in the cold darkness, afraid it might be the heavy steps of Tyurin. He no longer had need for the shackles that bit into her thin wrists for her first master had broken her spirit long ago. She could no longer remember the soft caress of the wind nor the the soothing surge of the waves. Burned into her mind were the harsh words of her master and the cold terrible feeling of his hands upon her skin. The burning of hot irons, the crack of a whip, the pain of raw hunger, these were all that she knew now. Her pride had long ago abandoned her and she would beg him to stop. Plead, until her voice was a mere whisper beneath the sound of his laughter or the singing of his whip. She knew that others could hear her, she heard their footsteps and timid voices, but they too feared her master and so it was as if they knew nothing.
It was as though none heard the strangled cries that were beaten from her body relentlessly. None smelled the blood that fell soundlessly to the cold dirt floor. None knew her pain as another blow crashed against her. None felt the terrible loneliness that threatened to suffocate her as he stood over her. None heard the terrible words that he so loved to whisper in her ears. None heard her pleading as he took her for himself once more. None felt the loss of something she could not get back as he left her. None moved to stop as he brought his hand down, again, again, again. None heard. None saw. None questioned. None helped. All knew. None came to wipe her tears as they traced the lines of her bleeding face.
The door at the other side of the room opened and she knew without seeing that it was he who stood there. The door closed behind him and he walked slowly towards her.
"Please," she begged, her voice hoarse and strange to her own ears. "Please."
If only some one could help her. Where was he? He had said he would never leave her.
He raised the whip.
He had just fallen asleep when her cry awakened him and he sat up quickly unsure of what he would find. He turned and looked at her and saw her laying on her side, her tears shining in the waning moonlight, her body trembling as sobs shook her tiny frame. Immediately he moved across the bed and gathered her in his arms leaning against the wall behind them and pulling the soft blankets up around her shoulders. She did not resist his efforts to sooth her but instead pulled closer to him and he tightened his arms as she rested her head against his chest and laid her hand on his arm. He did not have to ask what haunted her for now he knew all that had been done to her and knew that all he could do was hold her until her fears passed. What had already come to pass could not be undone. Hot tears fell down his own face as he reached up slowly and stroked her hair murmmuring words of elvish in her delicate ears. He moved slowly, laying down once more and laying her head against his chest as he held her tenderly in his strong arms. She sighed easily and he sensed that she would soon be asleep once more as he spoke to her softly.
"I shall always love you," he whispered and kissed the top of her head gently.
He pulled her closer as he closed his own eyes which were now heavy with sleep and nearly missed her answer, her voice languid and calming as the spring breeze that gently moved the curtain above his head.
"Elessar."
She breathed his name softly before shifting slightly agaisnt him so that her small hand lay over his heart and he smiled as he succumbed to deep and peaceful sleep.
She woke as he stirred beside her and slowly became aware of her surroundings. Her head was pillowed by his arm, her back touching his chest and her arm entwined with the one he draped across her, as if to ensure she did not leave him. She had no desire to leave but instead sighed contentedly and pulled the blanket away from her face slightly so that she could see the brilliant sun that was streaming in through the window. She watched with delight as a beautiful songbird perched on the windowledge and began to sing.
"He sings almost as well as you," Elessar stated sleepily as he pulled her closer and moved her so that he could see her face.
She laughed softly and then stopped suddenly as she saw the awed look upon his face and realized what had caused it. He had never heard her laugh.
"I shall have to remember to make you laugh more often. It is a most beautiful sound," he spoke softly as he brushed a stray lock of her dark hair from her face.
"Your council must believe you have abandoned them," she stated as he sat up, laying her gently upon the soft matress.
"It is alright," he told her as he yawned and stretched. "I wouldn't ever want them to become bored."
Both turned and looked as they were interupted by a firm knock on the door.
"My lady, are you well?" questioned Maeve and Elessar turned to look at her, smiling amusedly.
"It seems that we have worried your lady with our laziness," he teased, "I'm not sure I dare let her in," he stated, feigning worry, "I expect she will be most displeased with me. I believe I'm becoming a bad influence on you."
She laughed softly as he rose to open the door for her. It had been long since any had made her laugh, too long.
Ilterrin sat uneasily on the stone bench in the courtyard where one of King Elessar's guard's had told him to wait. He wondered how she had changed from the way that he remembered her and hoped that she was now well and loved. He glanced again at the guards who stood at each door once more as he had done often in the past minutes for he was still uneasy after having seen them marching grim-faced towards him the night before. He remembered how his heart had stopped when he left his chambers earlier that day to find two of them standing outside his door. The elder had assured him that they were there for his own protection and that all guests of King Elessar were treated in such a manner, but he sensed that all of them watched him closely whether he was walking the palace halls or sitting here outside the palace. He fidgeted with the dagger that hung at his side and wondered if perhaps she had changed her mind and did not wish to see him after all.
He had almost decided to approach one of the guards when he heard two of them speaking softly to a woman who stood just outside the courtyard. She wore a simple cloak that hid her face from him but he noticed that her burgandy dress was of good cloth, despite its simple style. He stood, as he had been taught as a child, at the lady's appraoch and inclined his head. She moved with an intriging grace; her footsteps soundless upon the white flagstones beneath her feet. She seemed timid though as she stopped, standing so close that he could have reached out and touched her. He bowed slightly before speaking,
"My lady, I am Prince Ilterrin, of Nian."
He watched in wonderment as she reached up and slid back the hood of her cloak so that he could see her dark eyes and fair face. Her dark hair shone like shimmering streams beneath the bows of the evergreens in the forests around his home. Her frame, though still slender was not sickly and no bruises marred her sweet face. Although she would not look him in the eye she did not turn her face from him as she had his father. Her pale skin was flawless and held a hint of color brought to it by the cool spring air. She seemed unsure of herself as she finally met his gaze and he could stare once more into the deep eyes that had haunted his dreams since he left her that day but what he saw there made his heart glad. He saw the return of elven knowledge and light and hints of the joy that had been so lacking as to make her eyes seem haunted. He would not have thought they were the same eyes he had gazed into three years ago were it not for the sorrow and fear that lingered there still despite the return of joy.
"Well met, Prince Ilterrin. I am Lady Saeorii, once of Mithlond and now of Gondor and I bid you welcome to my fair city."
Her voice was like a song, her strong accent telling that the words she spoke were strange to her tongue, yet still they were beautiful.
"I came back, last year," he began, his words halting and disjointed as he tried to find the words he so wanted to say to her. "I tried to find you but they said you had fled and that Caline followed you. I tried to find you in the city but could not so I left and have searched all of Middle-earth for you since. I wanted to tell you that my father is dead. I wanted to tell you that you would be safe now, that no one else would ever harm you. I wanted to tell you that you were free." He bowed his head, the shame of what had gone on before his life a great weight upon his young shoulders. "I wanted to tell you, tell you, tell you how sorry I am," he finished as he fell to his knees sobbing quietly.
He sensed her kneel down before him but was still surprised to feel her soft hand as she forced him to look at her. Then she spoke words in an enchanted tongue that he did not understand. They sounded familiar though as if he had heard them before and he realized she had spoken them to him that day when he held her dying body in his arms.
"I do not understand," he whispered, as if his words might break the spell that he felt he was under.
"May the grace of the Valar be with you. May yout heart remain ever pure. May you never loose hope."
Ilterrin was startled by the king's deep voice as he spoke the elven words in the common tongue and looked quickly behind Saeorii to see the king standing there, watching them quietly.
"Elessar thought you might like to see our city," Saeorii spoke quietly drawing his attention to her once more. He moved to protest and it seemed she knew before he spoke that he wished to ask once more for her forgiveness and shook her head. "It was not your fault, Ilterrin. You are not to blame."
He sat unmoving for a moment before he nodded, smiling slightly as he stood and offered her his hand which she took with only slight hesitation. When she stood the king placed his arm around her shoulders and whispered in her ear and he watched a tension he had not noticed before disappear and she seemed completely at ease and unafraid as she smiled sadly and took the king's arm.
"Come Ilterrin," called the king, "and I shall show you the many wonders of the White City."
The guards nodded as they passed through the archway into the city streets.
"King Elessar, Queen Saeorii," they spoke in unison as the two passed through ahead of him.
He stopped, his voice quiet with bewilderment as he spoke.
"Queen?"
The pair paused and she smiled, her cheeks turning a becoming shade of rose as Elessar laughed hearitly.
"Aye, Ilterrin. This is the Lady of the White City, my wife, and my queen," he heard the deep love and admiration in the king's voice and could not speak but stood for a moment stunned. "Come Ilterrin, we have much to see this day before the sun sets," called Elessar as finally he turned away, still chuckling at the astounded expression that Ilterrin knew was on his face.
Ilterrin allowed himself to be led through the winding levels of the city and was glad for the king's guidance for without it he knew he would have been lost long ago. He watched as the people of Gondor waved to their king and queen, their laughter seeming to fill the air. He was surprised to see many stop and speak to the king and Saeorii as if they knew them well. He watched, walking slightly behind the two as a group of children ran towards them and the king hoisted two small boys onto his shoulders while Saeorii gathered one of the youngest children in her arms.
"They are here everyday," spoke a stranger from behind him and Ilterrin turned to look at the elderly lady who sat watching with sparkling eyes. Ilterrin did not speak but turned back to watch the two as the woman continued. "It gives us hope to see them. Makes us feel safe to know that he is our king. Many say that it is ill advised to have a king who has spent so much time in the wild and among the elves. They no longer trust elves here in Gondor as they did when I was a child." The woman grew quiet and Ilterrin watched as King Elessar chased the children playfully, their laughter lifting the hearts of those in the courtyard as they paused from their work to watch but it was she that held his attention. She stood watching, the young girl still cradled in her arms and shy laughter lighting her eyes. Who could see such beauty as hers and still despair he could not understand for in her was light and he knew without being told that she would shine like the stars beneath the moonlight once more. "Others may doubt it," the woman continued, her voice now wistful as she smiled, "but never has a better or truer king sat upon the throne. 'Hail to he who shall return, and shall bring us our hope once more," she finished speaking a rhyme that a traveller had once told him but he had never understood until this moment as he looked into the piercing sterling eyes of the king of Gondor.
The man had seemed old and yet wise beyond the years of man and had been cloaked in grey with a strange hat upon his head. He had not tarried long in the land of Nian but Ilterrin had never forgotten him; the fire in the old man's eyes unlike anything he had ever seen.
"Can I help you?" he had asked the man as he stood just outside the gate of his home.
The man answered him without looking.
"Nay, I fear you cannot, penneth," and then the man had begun to speak as if his words were some ancient riddle to which he could not find the answer.
"The White City calls to him,
The path before him plain,
When the hour is darkest,
And it seems we shall fall,
He shall come upon us,
Like one of old,
And free us from our peril.
Hail to he who shall return,
And bring us our hope once more."
Then as suddenly as he had come the Grey Wanderer had seemed to vanish, never to return again.
The sun had set when a rider came into the city and rode without stopping to the White Tower where he was taken at once to the king. It was soon heard throughout the city that Osgilioth was once more under attack and children and women watched as their husbands brothers, and sons marched with grim faces towards the tower where the king would join them. The city seemed silent with fear and impending death. Such great losses had already been dealt them that they could not imagine going through it again but they knew with terrible certainty that they would as the glint of armor and swords shone like stars amid the dark streets of the city. Then word came that gave hope to both those who rode and those that would be left behind. He would lead them, the banner of Gonder raised high above him, and the flame of the westburning brightly in his hand.
He had not been able to sleep as it had been many nights before when he knew he would ride into battle but this was harder knowing whom he left behind. He had gone to bed much after her and had pulled her close to him and his heart had surged when she moved against him in her sleep. He had known sleep would not come to him but knew he would find peace with her and so had held her for hours simply listening to her peaceful breathing and the soft beating of her heart. He had stroked her back and buried his face in her hair, hoping to remember her sweet scent that reminded him of the freshness after a summer rain and the softest scent of the many flowers that filled his remembrances of the elven realms. He prayed that the Valar would allow to him to return so that he could feel the softness of her slender body in his arms and brush his lips against her own once more. He had risen only when the stars began to leave the night sky and give way to the first grey lights of dawn and he knew that he must rise despite his hearts longing to stay at her side.
He stood now, in his chambers off the throne room, looking at those below him in the courtyard that would follow him into battle. Those he longed to have at his side though were painfully absent. He longed for the singing bow of Legolas, the ringing of Gimli's axe, the flash of Gandalf's staff, the echo of Boromir's horn, and the fierce cries of the small hobbits. These were whom he would have beside him if he could so choose.
Her quiet knock startled him and he called softly for her to enter and the sight of her as she entered only pained his heart more to leave her. Her dress was the palest of pinks so that if he did not look carefully he would have guessed it was white. As Maeve was not up yet her hair was down except for a few strands of the front that were pulled back from her face with silver pins the shape of ivy leaves. He felt his voice catch as he tried to speak and found words would not come.
Silently he pulled her so that her body leaned gently against his own and he pulled the white shawl closer about her shoulders as he looked into her endless dak eyes.
"I do not want to leave you," he whispered softly as he tucked her dark hair behind her beautiful elven ears.
"You must. Your people need you," she answered him in Sindarin.
"I know," he sighed and pulled her closer still as he traced the delicate curve of her face with his thumb as if to engrave it into his memory.
He leaned forward slowly, ever sensitve to any sign of her discomfort as he kissed her once, allowing his lips to linger and brush hers once more before he pulled away and saw the color rise to her cheeks. He smiled and chuckled softly.
"Where is my stone?" She looked at him strangely, her face a mask of confusion. "You give a gift to Faramir when he leaves, but not to me?"
She smiled and raised her hand timidly to brush the side of his face and he felt the warmth of her small hand.
"What need have you for a stone when you hold my heart," she whispered as a single tear slid down her pale cheek.
He took her hand and held it in his own, brought it to his lips and then held it pressed it between them as he pulled her close one final time.
"I love you," he whispered his voice husky with emotion before he kissed her, unsure how long it would be before he was able to do so again, if ever.
Saeorii stood at the edge of the White Tower, letting her tears fall freely as she watched him ride from the city into uncertain circumstances and certain danger. She loved him. She had longed to be able to speak the words to him when he parted but had not had the courage to speak them out loud. He paused and waited for the others to ride through the gates. He turned his face to the great city behind him as if he had sensed her watching him and her elven sight did not miss the tears that made his silver eyes shine as he gazed up at her.
She raised her hand in parting and the wind gusted stongly behind her and blew her dark hair across her face as the sun rose in vivid pastel hues behind her. To the guards behind her she seemed to shine, brilliantly so that the White Tower itself seemed dim. When she looked again, the flame of the west shone brilliantly in his hand as he turned and rode off into the distance.
"Until we meet again," she whispered quietly and the wind surged behind her, carrying her pure voice until it reached his ear and he turned for a moment to look one final time at theLady of the White City, who would hold his heart for all time.
And there you have it. Sorry that I've been later than planned but life gets in the way and I wanted to wait to have an update for all three of my stories before posting. Wanted all to know that I will probably only update every three weeks now as I have added a new story. It is a Star Wars AU, at the request of a friend. You can check it out if interested although I'm not sure how it will turn out as LOTR is my thing. Anway, can't wait to hear from you all, I have missed you so much this summer. Thanks for waiting for me.
Sierra Leone
