Chapter Two: Suffering and Healing

Aragorn stood at the large window, his feet spread apart and his hands clasped behind his back, at ease, wearing only his trousers, looking out over The Fields of Pelennor. They were lush and green, the spring rain having washed away the last traces of blood from the previous year. Slowly the land was coming back to life. In a few months time they would celebrate their first year of peace with a large festival on the Fields. He had plans to invite vendors from all across Middle Earth, people from all races, to come to this great seat of peace and rejoice in a full year without having to go to war. While his captains had been searching the Northlands for any rebellion activity and forcing out any who opposed Aragorn and still stood by Sauron, despite being utterly vanquished by the destruction of the One Ring. None of these rebel fleets put up much of a fight though, and quickly swore their fealty towards the new Kingdom.

His thoughts wandered as he stood there, as they did most mornings when he took the time to meditate. It had become a great source of power for him since healing from the near-death wound those months ago. The White Witch had given him the idea one morning while she had tended him. The first time he had attempted it made all the difference. He could feel the power surge back through him as he pondered the universe and the things that lay ahead of him. This included his beautiful wife, Arwen.

Arwen had been harmed greatly in the process of saving his life, and as a result had lost their baby. It had done more internal damage than had been expected. While Ninia had said plainly that she would be able to bear children once completely healed, there had already been two failed pregnancies and both Arwen and Aragorn were fearful of trying once again. Their fear was apparent to the White Witch and so she had prescribed a tonic for Arwen, advising her to take a spoonful twice a day, ingesting it fully into her system. She claimed that it would make her womb strong for bearing children. Aragorn hoped that this tonic would work, but still he steered clear of Arwen, afraid she would just be hurt again.

A hand on his shoulder drew him out of his thoughts and he turned to see Arwen standing there, having brought the sheet around herself instead of getting dressed. It was still early in the morning. "Are you well, my love?" she asked in her native elvish tongue.

"I am. I was just thinking." He took her hand and brought it to his lips and kissed it gently.

"Come back to bed, please," she said, tugging him with her back to the bed.

He went without a fight and as she wound the sheet from her body, he slid up beside her, adoring the warm feeling of her skin on his. She was frail however and as he wrapped his arms around her he could feel her shake gently. He looked down at her lovely face and saw the tears slid down her cheeks. "Oh don't cry, my darling. Please, you break my heart when you cry." He brushed the tears away with his thumbs.

"I cannot help it. I am sad. I do so want to give you children, Aragorn."

"We have time. You do not need to be so concerned about it right at this moment. I will live for decades more, as will you. Please stop crying."

"While you have no heirs though, your throne is in danger. The sooner you have a child the better." She turned then to face him, her hand coming up to cup his cheek. "I want to give you children."

He bent to kiss her delicate lips. "I know. But we won't worry about it right this second."

He was afraid for her. She had given herself up completely towards this task of giving him a child, and had forgotten than her duty was first to herself. If she was not well, then the child would not be well. "I have an idea," he ventured, pulling her closer to him. "Will you listen?"

"Of course."

"Let's stop trying." She opened her mouth to protest. "No, hear me out. Good things come to those who wait. I would like us to stop trying to make this happen and see if it just happens naturally, as it did the first time around."

"But the damage…"

"Will not matter if we have faith in ourselves, and the Gods above who have blessed us deeply with each other. I have you in my life, Arwen. That is more than I could hope for, and more than I dreamed of when I was younger. I have you. And you will always have me."

She smiled gingerly, allowing the thought to briefly fill her up. "I do have you. Very well, we will stop trying and let fate take its course."

The elf leapt nimbly down off his horse, leaving Gimli to ride on the back solo while he guided them through the rocky terrain. While Gimli was small, a small slip on the horse's part could send the both of them flying over the edge and Legolas hated to think about that while they were so close to Minas Tirith once again.

In the past months there had been rebel disturbances in the forests north of Minas Tirith and Aragorn had sent both Legolas and Gimli to use their influence and see to the matter. Never doubting his good friend, as well as his king, Legolas had taken up the task without hesitation. His duties previous had been boring him to an extent and he relished the chance to get out of the city and back to the forests where he felt more comfortable. The stone and gravel was elegant and beautiful but nothing like the simplicity of trees and moss.

So together, Gimli and Legolas had fought back some rebel forces, sometimes with force, whereas other times they listened to what Legolas had to say, on behalf of Aragorn of course. Aragorn was their king and while they did not respect him, some were open to the idea.

The nights in the forest were some of the most relaxing nights he could recall for a long time. He had always been a warrior, and now he found himself a peacemaker, asking others to answer the King's call for loyalty. But lying with the soft earth as his bed and the stars up above as his blanket, Legolas drew back from everything and his mind was at peace as well.

On more than once occasion however, Legolas found his mind drifting back to the last time he had spoken to her. She had pulled back from everyone when Aragorn was injured and Arwen lost her child, but he had not expected what her next move was. She had asked him for his strength and he gladly gave it, but then she withdrew from that too. She wanted to be completely alone and had even left Minas Tirith to get herself back together. And while Legolas respected her choice, he still hadn't understood it at the time, nor did it stop him from missing her on the many nights he spent in the wilderness.

He thought of the last time he had spoken to her; the time she had told him her decision to leave Minas Tirith…

It was the first time she'd sought him out in a week. He knew that she had been avoiding him, but at the time had hoped that it was just the stress of Aragorn and Arwen. When she approached him then however, as he was seated on a window seat in the library, he could feel the waves of not only stress, but tension as well. She was about to give him some very bad news. He felt it in his elfish bones.

"Legolas," she said to him softly, his gaze lifting to hers at the sound of her small voice. "I need to talk to you."

He nodded. He didn't want to hear it if it was bad news, but he would not deny her anything. She held some kind of power over him that made it impossible for him to refuse her. At times it was worrisome, but in her times of need he could tell she really counted on him to be there.

"May I sit down?" Aranee asked, gesturing to the bench where Legolas was sitting.

"Of course," he shuffled over to allow her room to sit, never once taking his eyes off her weary face. She did not look at all like the woman he had met at Aragorn's coronation. She was a vibrant young lady with spirit and wit. The woman sitting in front of him now was still young, but she wore the test of time on her face, her eyes drooping from lack of sleep, her mouth in a tight line.

She sat there for a few minutes, chewing on her lips as she tried to find the words to start speaking. Legolas thought he would try to ease the tension by reaching out and touching her hands that were currently folded in her lap, twisting in her skirt, but she flinched when he moved and he froze.

"God, I'm sorry," she let out in a rush. "I didn't mean to flinch. I'm really not myself. I feel like I'm going to fall apart at the seams at any moment. Please forgive me?"

Legolas nodded, "Anything. But please, Aranee, don't leave me in the dark. I am worried about you and will do anything to help. You know that. You asked for my strength."

"I know I did. And that day I needed it, thank you. But now I need to find my own strength. So…" she took a deep breath, closed her eyes and then said, "I'm leaving Minas Tirith."

Feeling like someone had punched him in the gut, Legolas reeled back, "What?" He had not been expecting this. He had been prepared for her to say that what happened between them could go no further right now because she was so exhausted, but not this.

"I'm leaving. I won't be back for at least eight months. I am going to Rohan with Éomer and Éowyn. They will not return for some time and I am resigned to going with them."

Legolas was at a loss for words for a few minutes. He went day to day just waiting to see Aranee, even if she did not speak to him. Not seeing her for eight months or more would be torture. Because he couldn't think of anything to say he did the only thing he thought might break the awkward silence; he reached out and rested a hand on her two folded ones in her lap.

She continued to look down at her hands and only flinched slightly because she hadn't expected him to touch her. But instead of pulling away she took his one hand between both of hers. "This has nothing to do with you, Legolas. I need this time to get myself back on my feet; to work things out in my mind after everything that's happened."

For the first time in his life Legolas was speechless. He didn't know what to say to her. He understood that she needed her time and space, but hated to see her go. He couldn't imagine his life now without her. He stumbled over his words, "There's…there's nothing I can…"

She cut him off, "No, Legolas, there is nothing you can do to help me with this. My mind is made up."

His heart clamped up at that moment and refused to open again. He didn't know if it would ever open again. Elves weren't prone to feelings this strong, especially about a mortal woman. But there was something about Aranee that twisted his very insides and inhibited his ability to think. He supposed that Aragorn had seen how forlorn he had been about Aranee's departure and had sent him and Gimli on their missions in the north.

It was, for the most part, successful in distracting him from the little time that he had spent with Aranee, but the nights when the air was cold and the stars were bright, he would stare up and his thoughts would again wander to the times when Aranee had been warm in his arms or looked up at him with sparkling eyes.

His mind snapped back to reality as one of the horse's hooves missed the ledge and twittered a bit, trying to jumped to the side only to come into contact with the mountain edge.

Gimli grabbed a hold of the saddle horn just in time. "Whoa, whoa! Who's idea was it ter come back down this-a-way, again?"

"Mine, Gimli. I understand it's precarious but it's the quickest way around the range back to Minas Tirith."

"You thought that coming back this way would be faster, I'll give you that. But we just survived eight months of rebels with nary a scratch, nor serious injury, so maybe coming back this way seems almost foolish. It does seem a little backwards."

Legolas shook his head. "If you'd like to see it that way that is your decision, but as soon as we round this bend we shall see Minas Tirith on the horizon and be back by nightfall.

"Are ye so eager to be back at the city then? I thought elves liked the wilderness and woodlands?" Gimli was teasing now, for he knew very well the reason they were rushing back to Minas Tirith. It had been eight months and in that time he had seen an unsettling unease come over the elf. He knew the cause of this unease as well, and it had nothing to do with the rebels they were facing.

"Elves find homes in many places, Dwarf, as you well know. I am sure Aragorn will find our return relieving however."

"Oh aye, he'll be relieved all went well while we were gone. Are ye expecting to see anyone else in particular?"

Legolas could hear the inflection in Gimli's voice and instead of giving him the satisfaction of a response, he picked up the pace and continued to lead the horse along the precarious path. It was true, he was hoping to see Aranee, but there was no guarantee that she'd returned from Rohan. He couldn't begin to understand what had transpired for her there, but he hoped deeply that she'd found exactly what she'd been looking for.

The fields around her held such splendor that sometimes she even thought it might be a dream. But her dreams of late had not been so kind. She would be pleased to find these landscapes in her dreams. Instead the forests in her dreams haunted her. They were nothing like the land before her now, with rolling hills and tall grasses that swished back and forth with the strong winds that rose to the plains there.

She sat atop her horse and her mind drifted as the wind would, over the plains and over the past eight months and then back to her life in Minas Tirith and all the people she had left there. Faramir popped to her thoughts instantly, and behind him was Legolas and then Aragorn. While she did miss Legolas and all his companionship, for it had been warm and compassionate, and her brother to know how he was doing, she missed Faramir the most. He was more a brother to her than Aragorn was and it was he who she most wished to see and speak to. There was just something there between them that had always been there and she longed for that connection again. She knew the feeling of the calloused skin on his hands brushing against her softer hands all too well and that was the familiarity she so wished for. Éomer, while a gentleman and good man in his own right, was a good substitute and she'd grown quite fond of him, would never replace Faramir. She would never allow him to either.

There was a plodding of horse hooves behind her and Éomer trotted up beside her just as she looked over her shoulder. "Enjoying the views?" Éomer asked.

"Always," she smiled back at him, which caused him to smile brightly in return.

"I enjoy seeing you smile," he countered.

She laughed briefly, "Why is that?"

He shook his head as his horse bristled and Éomer tried to keep him under control. "Because it means you have left the thoughts in your head and are just taking pleasure in your surroundings. It is my opinion that you should do so more often."

"Perhaps I should," she allowed and turned back to face the rolling hills.

"Let us walk," he said, urging his horse forward. She kept up a slow walk beside him on Fea. "Aranee, I must ask you something."

He sounded serious and so Aranee braced herself for what was to come. It was an automatic reaction now. "Yes?"

"Are you suffering?"

She was taken aback. "What? Why would you assume that?"

He was quiet for a moment, searching for the right words to say. He would not risk saying the wrong thing when the subject was this sensitive. "I think the world of you, you know this, but I can't help but noticing that you look as if you are running yourself into the ground even here, Aranee. Are you trying to sabotage yourself?"

Aranee remained quiet for a moment, considering the idea. She had never thought she might sabotage herself for any reason because she wanted most of all to be free of this exhaustion. "If I were, Éomer I do not think I would realize it. I want this to end. I want the nightmares to disappear, and I want my strength to return completely. I do not think that even subconsciously I am putting myself down, for whatever reasons my mind might come up with."

Éomer nodded. "I thought as much myself. Éowyn mentioned it this morning however and it seemed like an alternative I needed to pursue in order to be certain. I only worry about your well being, you know that?"

"I do know that," Aranee admitted, looking kindly at Éomer. "I know all that you feel for me Éomer. I don't think I shall forget."

"I see you get stronger, I see you go riding and wander among the people. I have seen you laugh since being here. You never did that when you first arrived. I do believe that this time here is working for you. I just wish there was more I could do for you."

Aranee shook her head, "There's nothing you can do. I feel better, even if it is only fractionally so. Only time and patience will work its magic on me because everything else I have tried. I have taken medicines and crushed herbs into my meals to see if it would make me feel better. And it does for a while. But I cannot become reliant on these remedies. I…" she paused momentarily, thinking back to her childhood. She recalled from the depths of her repressed memories a time when her mother had been reliant on such medicines. She then shook her head, "No, I will just have to continue on this path I have chosen, and hope it leads me out of the dark."

Éomer nodded his head reluctantly. He was glad to see she was not giving up, but at the same time he was upset that there was nothing more that he could do. He made up his mind then to send for Faramir; tell him what was going on, while not telling Aranee what he was planning. He did not want anything to hinder her from this self-healing she was on and her thought that maybe if she expected Faramir to come, she would halt the process unknowingly.

There was something that she had told him many months ago that had always stuck with him. It was the first time he'd had any real alone-time with her, when she'd showed him the Pool of Bluemede. She had told him: "I have always believed in magic, Éomer. I use it, see it even, on a daily basis, the human body is capable of miraculous things. A wound can heal and leave the smallest trace of a scar of the most rugged gash. Humans are susceptible to disease and sickness and our white blood cells have the strength and know-how to fight them off. A woman's womb can create and carry a new life. Our bodies were designed to survive, to withstand so much. Magic has everything and then nothing to do with it. I am a healer who knows that."

Éomer recalled how he'd seen her transform before his eyes at that moment, and he wished to see that again, and soon, for he could see that spirit within her dwindling, even if she'd come such a long way in eight months. While she could be healing the biggest wound, she could be gouging an even bigger one with her healing. He wanted to save her from doing that, and the only way he knew how was to call in reinforcements. Faramir would bring her back from the brink, he just knew it.