Chapter 12: Coming to Terms
"Aragorn… Aragorn… wake up…"
Voices... there were many voices... buzzing around him in anxiety.
"Gandalf, help him - will he be well?" A familiar voice pierced Aragorn's awareness, and he forced himself to open his eyes just a little. Something bright – a golden river of hair – met his eyes, blocking out everything else. Nothing else seemed to matter.
Then something white came near. "He seems to be coming around now. Yes... I think so. The palantir can have very powerful effects on one who handles it. Give him some time - he will wake." Gandalf moved away from the Man and allowed the golden one to come near again.
Pippin's voice could be heard chattering agitatedly in the background. "… like what happened to me..." Theoden was hovering nearby, and there too stood Rumil and Eomer. Gimli's voice floated past, trying to explain to someone what had happened. "Awake last night… don't know what happened after … foolish human… handling a thing like the palantir…"
A gentle voice, thick with concern, was in his ear. "Estel?" it called. "Aragorn, wake up now. Please… speak to me." Soft fingers touched his face.
The man's heart leapt and beat wildly. That voice! That hair… those fingers… could it be…? How…?
The fingers caressed his cheek and his brow again, and the touch broke through a barrier of agonizing disbelief. Tears began to leak uncontrollably from Aragorn's tightly shut eyes as he trembled violently.
"Estel! Please – what is wrong? Wake up!" Real fear wrapped itself around the fair voice in his ear, and Aragorn could hear it. It was a familiar beloved voice – and long had it been since he heard it! What was happening? Was it truly him…?
Shudders raced through his body, but Aragorn forced himself to slowly open his eyes.
There, right above him, was the beautiful face and golden silk that had been lost to him. And there, too, were the glorious blue eyes that had been cold and glassy: now they were alive, soft, and overflowing with love. Legolas smiled down at him with his shining countenance, though anxiety still clouded his features.
The elf was alive again… beyond all hope, beyond all expectation… how, he did not know, but he drank in the sight and raised a tentative hand to cup the unblemished cheek.
"Legolas," he whispered.
He knew they now had the attention of others in the room, but he did not care. He brought his other hand up as well and held the beloved face in a gentle grasp, afraid it would disappear.
The elegant brows of the elf prince knitted in a concerned frown. "Aragorn?" he called.
Aragorn found speech elusive, and he held onto his beloved, weeping irrepressible tears.
Legolas called to the Wizard: "Gandalf, please come here… something is wrong!" The elf tried to move aside for the wizard, but the man's fingers were frozen upon his face.
Aragorn's eyes would not leave Legolas – he did not know how he got here but he was afraid this was a dream and the elf would vanish and he would find himself back in that dark, dark world from which he had come.
"Aragorn?" Gandalf now bent over the Ranger, while others stood over them in growing concern. He laid a hand on the man's brow as he had done earlier with Pippin, and he closed his eyes as he whispered healing words. As the moments passed, the man's trembling began to slowly subside though the tears would not cease.
The wizard's eyes suddenly snapped open, and a look of shock and alarm flashed over his wizened features. "By the Valar!" he breathed. He glanced up at the golden elf by his side and shuddered over the disturbing images he had seen in Aragorn's mind.
"What, Gandalf? What is it?" the elf asked with panic in his voice, and Rumil came closer, placing a calming hand on his shoulder. Gimli and Theoden also crowded over them as the gravity of the situation became more evident.
Gandalf grasped Aragorn's shoulders and shook them. "Aragorn, look at me! Look at me!" he demanded.
The man peeled his eyes off Legolas and turned slowly to face the wizard with a blank stare.
"It was all an illusion, Aragorn," the old man said, enunciating each word deliberately. "All – an – illusion. The things you went through after I left you that night – they did not happen. They were not real."
Comprehension was slow in coming for the man. He looked perplexed, but no less than all the others in the tent.
"You never met Saruman," Gandalf continued speaking slowly and clearly. "You never made a deal with him, and all the consequences thereafter never took place."
Aragorn blinked and shook his head disbelievingly, but the wizard took one of Legolas' hands and placed it in the man's.
"See?" he said firmly. "Feel that, Aragorn."
The man looked down at the hand in his own and slowly, slowly relaxed. He reached up with his other hand and touched the elf's face and neck. No cut, no blood.
Legolas was even more confused now. His fear was growing, but he kept his hand in Aragorn's. The wizard tried to smile at the distraught elf.
"As I have explained to you, Legolas – the palantir is a dangerous tool. Even though Aragorn mastered it, it affected him, twisted his mind, guided his actions - even in hallucination," he explained. "He will be well, Legolas. He just needs some…time."
Aragorn continued to stare at Legolas. He felt his breath slow as he wondered: was this real? An illusion, the wizard had said. An illusion…
He had to find out. He had to. Swallowing and holding onto Legolas' hand, he closed his eyes and opened them again.
The elf was still there.
Aragorn let out a breath. The elf was alive, truly alive. The brutal, horrible death – an illusion. All those years of torment – a living death – all an illusion. He felt weak with incredible relief and let out a choked sob of gratitude as he leaned back onto his pillow.
Legolas was alive, he was alive, he did not die – his death had been an illusion, and Aragorn felt like singing it out.
Then he gasped suddenly as he remembered something else: the visions! Not the ones of death, but those he had seen before Gandalf left that night.
Those visions remained. Legolas and Rumil. Pledging themselves to each other. They were real, were they not? And they would take place.
Bitter agony assaulted him again – an unwelcome flood that washed over him, its keenness waking him, making him feel the sharpness of loss once more.
And then, after the first painful cut of agony came a feeling of shame – a deep sense of shame at the thought of what he had done, or what he would have done to stop the bonding: made the dark deal with Saruman and caused the death of the elf. It was all out of love, but what a twisted end it would have been because he had not dared to declare that love earlier.
He turned his face from the elf and wriggled out of his hold. His voice held bitter disappointment when he said: "Leave me, Legolas. Leave me." Silently, he added: I do not deserve you or your love. Rumil does. He is the better man.
Not hearing the self-reproach in his voice, everyone in the tent was taken aback, and the elf not the least. Once again he was being asked to leave, and he felt a twinge of hurt in his heart. But he wanted to give Aragorn one more chance.
"Aragorn… are you certain you want me to leave?"
The man, still full of shame, suddenly felt the need to talk to Gandalf, to ask him things he was too ashamed for anyone else to hear. He answered: "Yes. I wish to speak with Gandalf. Alone."
Wizard and elf looked at each other, but the old man shook his head to indicate that he was just as puzzled as the other. Legolas' expression hardened. Dejected once more, the elf released his hold on the man's hand and straightened himself.
"Very well, Aragorn, I shall go," he said softly, with much sorrow in his voice. He turned from the man and walked straight out of the tent opening without looking sideways at anyone.
Rumil threw Aragorn an incredulous look before setting his lips in a firm line and hurried after Legolas. He made a silent resolve in his heart, and he determined to see it through today.
The others – confused and uncomprehending – filed out silently and slowly as well. Only Gimli could be heard to mutter: "… lost his marbles…"
Finally alone with Gandalf, Aragorn asked him to relate all that had happened since that night.
Gandalf drew a deep breath. He decided to plunge straight into the heart of the matter.
"You did not seem yourself since you came down from the grove, Aragorn," he began. "We were talking, and… Legolas heard you call him a passing fancy."
Aragorn's eyes widened in alarm. "So it was true – even in the dark dreams, it was true. But I didn't mean it! I didn't – "
"I know, I know, my friend," the old man said placatingly, "and I went to explain to him that the Stone had corrupted your mind. He was relieved, and we came back here to talk to you. But then we found you unconscious – trapped in dark nightmares from which you could not wake. You were thrashing about before you fell silent and still, and we could not wake you."
Aragorn still looked lost and shaken, and the wizard felt sorry for him.
"Sauron could not tempt you with the Ring, for you are still a strong, decent man, Aragorn," Gandalf said, "so it sought to twist your mind with something that meant more to you than even the One Ring: Legolas. You saw what you would have done to make him yours. Thank the Valar it did not actually happen."
Aragorn stared at the wizard, finding it hard to believe that the Stone could have been that powerful.
"Sauron's magic is dark," the old man continued, "and it made you see incredible things. But Legolas never died, you made no deal, and you have not yet become king."
"It all seemed so real…" Aragorn said, his eyes dazed. "All those years…"
"None of that was real, Aragorn," Gandalf insisted firmly.
Aragorn shook his head slowly, before he looked up at the wizard again – pain in his eyes. "But what about the promise Legolas made to Rumil – to bond with him – is that real? Will that be real?"
Gandalf sighed. "Whatever you saw in the Stone when you were in the grove – that was no trick, no lie. But I cannot say more. Just remember that the visions are a bad guide to action. Remember what it did to your mind."
"All I know, Gandalf, is that I cannot live without him," Aragorn stated sadly. "If there was one thing the Stone showed me that is real – it was that. I cannot live without him… in good times or bad. But cruel is the fate that dictates that I cannot bond with him because of Gondor."
Gandalf sat up straighter and asked Aragorn a question that took the man aback: "Why not?"
Aragorn frowned and raised upturned palms. "Why not?" he repeated, wondering that Gandalf could not understand the reason. "Because of Gondor, because I have a responsibility to continue the bloodline, to bear heirs."
Gandalf raised his eyebrows. "Are you certain, Aragorn?" he queried, and at the look of further perplexity on the man's face, he pressed on: "What is your responsibility to Gondor?"
Before Aragorn could return with what the old man felt would be a stock answer, Gandalf asked again: "When you take away everything else, what is your ultimate responsibility to Gondor and Middle-earth?"
Aragorn knitted his brows and thought deeply about what the wizard was asking before he responded: "To deliver it from the Dark Lord."
Gandalf smiled. "Exactly!" he pronounced. "It is to re-establish a line of kings: good, strong kings who will not fall prey to the Dark Forces again. But do you need to produce heirs for that purpose?"
Aragorn shook his head slowly, beginning to see what the wizard was driving at.
"No," he replied. "Some of the Rangers share Numenorean blood, and Faramir is the son of the Steward; that bloodline has held Gondor faithfully and taken it through dark times. Any of them could provide Gondor with a line of kings…"
Gandalf nodded. "Does it matter to you that your own sons continue that line after you depart? Or is it enough to you that you return Gondor to its days of glory and freedom from Sauron?"
"It is enough," Aragorn said firmly. "It does not matter to me who comes after I do – as long as he is a good ruler."
Gandalf clapped his hand on the man's shoulder, a broad smile shining through his white beard. "Then you have the answer to the conflict within your heart," he declared.
Aragorn felt as if a hundred tons had been lifted off his shoulders: a load he had made himself bear all these decades. He wondered why he had not seen all this before, and his spirits soared. He could bond with Legolas like he wished – and it would not matter to him! He would be a good ruler, and if his people wanted him, they would have to accept his mate. And if they did not – he would give up the throne readily – he would have done his duty to free them from Sauron's power.
He felt lighter and freer than he had for many, many years.
Then a thought struck him.
"Arwen," he uttered, turning disturbed eyes to Gandalf. "What about Arwen? She has given me her pendant…"
Gandalf shook his head and looked at Aragorn steadily. "It is just a pendant," he said. "You have not… bonded with her… have you?
Feeling a little embarrassed, Aragorn shook his head. "No."
"Then her immortality has not been lost yet," the wizard assured him.
Aragorn sighed in relief, and after a moment's hesitation, he removed the pendant from around his neck, placing it and the chain carefully on the bedding. He would return it later to the beautiful elleth, with his affection, but not his love, not the love he felt for Legolas...
"Do you still desire to be with him?" Gandalf's voice disrupted his thoughts.
Aragorn answered readily. "There is nothing I want more. My life could not go on without him, and if Legolas were bonded with anyone else, I might as well not be king, for my own heart would turn hard and merciless, and I would be a terrible ruler. I have seen it."
"Then go and look for him now," the wizard told him, "I do not know exactly what you saw in those visions, but if there is a chance that Rumil will ask him to bond, you must make Legolas see what you feel so that he can choose. Go now. Once he says yes to Rumil, all will be too late. He will not break his word."
Aragorn's heart fell as he recalled his vision. "But the Stone showed him accepting…"
"I do not know more than what I already know from you, Aragorn," the wizard said impatiently. "Just go! I will ask the others if they have seen him. Come, hurry."
The old man got up and exited the tent in a flurry of white. Aragorn hurried after him, then hesitated at the tent flap and turned back. He walked over to his pack and rummaged through it to retrieve two objects, followed by something that he grabbed from his bedding.
If all goes well, these will help me convince Legolas of the seriousness of my love, he thought.
For a second more, he lamented the absence of a fourth item, but then an idea came to him, and he went outside.
Gandalf stood in front of the tent with an irate dwarf and two excited hobbits. One look at faces told him that Gandalf had informed them about what was happening.
"Well, it's about time!" the dwarf grumbled and pointed to the woody rise above the camp. "The elf and that persistent Rumil headed in the direction of the place you were in that night." Then he turned back to the Ranger and continued his chastisement. "That chap from Lorien is probably doing what you should be doing were you not such a fool!"
Merry hopped about excitedly and smirked. "I'm just a hobbit, but the hobbit was right after all!" he said smugly.
"Right about what? Huh?" Pippin asked cluelessly, but Gimli and Merry ignored him.
Both chagrined and amused, Aragorn wanted to smack each of his friends, but he had to admit they were right. Meekly, he said to Gimli: "In time, I shall give you high praise for your wisdom, but right now, I need your help, my friend," and Aragorn quickly explained what he needed.
When he had finished explaining, everyone laughed, but Gimli was quick to comply. He immediately peeled off his tunic, and Merry stepped in to help.
After some quick work, Aragorn was ready to go.
"Go for it, man," the dwarf said, clapping him on the back, and Gandalf said: "May the Valar be with you."
As Aragorn smiled in gratitude and strode off, he could hear Pippin asking: "What was that for? Why does he need that? Huh?"
And he could hear Gimli and Merry groaning and dragging the hobbit away, no doubt to teach him some lessons about life.
--xx00xx--
Running as if his life depended on it – and indeed, he was coming to terms with this feeling that Legolas held his heart in his shapely elven hands – Aragorn ascended the rise to the grove of trees he had been in before. The sun shone through the foliage on the clearing he had occupied – but no elf was in sight.
Aragorn frowned. Where were they?
He began to panic, fearing he would reach them too late, after Legolas said yes to Rumil… He shook his head and told himself to think clearly. What else had he seen in the visions?
He closed his eyes and recalled the images – what else had there been? What else? What… A mistiness! There had been a mist behind Legolas … like vapor… Water! That was it – they had to be near the fall he had heard on his first night here.
With his heart thumping, he listened for the sound of water with his sharp Ranger's ears and detected it. He immediately set out in the direction of the sound and followed it till it became got louder and louder. The wood was a little thicker here, and the elves were nowhere in sight. Now he was climbing up a rise, and as soon as he could see over the edge – he suddenly saw them, a few yards away.
There they stood – two fair beings facing each other, with Legolas' back to the water. He knew they could not hear him because of the noise of the fall, and so focused were they on something Rumil was saying that they had not noticed him yet.
Aragorn's heart raced at the sight of his beloved, and he took a moment to make himself overcome his feelings of guilt and to garner the courage to call his name.
But then he saw Rumil take Legolas' hands – just like he had in the vision – and as he watched like one struck dumb, he saw Rumil look intently at the golden elf and say something. And though he could not hear them over the noise of the water, Aragorn knew exactly what the words were.
His heart clenched, and he tried to call out to the one he loved, but no voice emerged from his throat. Then, as he looked at the two elves, he saw how beautiful they looked together, gold and brown, slender and tall – and immortal – and he suddenly felt completely unworthy of Legolas. He felt like a terrible, indecent intruder – robbing Legolas of a happy future with a like being.
But…but what if Legolas does not know how much I love him and he says yes to Rumil because of that? he asked himself. Had not the golden elf once said that he would have chosen Aragorn? Yes, yes – he had said that! He had to tell Legolas the truth – then let him decide.
But before he could step out and utter anything, he saw Legolas say something in reply to Rumil, and then his slender arms enclosed Rumil in a tender embrace.
Aragorn's heart dropped, and all the things he had brought with him fell from his hands. He sank limply to his knees, and his tears fell freely as he asked himself: Have I come too late?