CHAPTER 8. AT LIABILITY
Dashing back from the stables with long, hasty strides, Aragorn had soon returned to the White Tower. He left Faramir to greet their guests, whilst he retreated and reluctantly changed out of his Ranger clothing and changed back into the formal wear of a king, mentally cursing himself for his idiocy.
What would the people of Gondor think of their king if they knew of his cowardice? Aragorn fumed, removing his well-worn travel boots and replacing them with unnecessary violence.
He turned towards the doorway, eyes widening in surprise. He found Arwen standing at the doorway, her face filled with suppressed rage and the note explaining his would-be departure clutched in her slender hand.
"What is this, Estel?" she asked, her tone dangerous as she held up the parchment.
"I... Arwen, I can explain-" he began calmly.
"No, not now." she snapped abruptly. "Your guests have already arrived, and it would not do to be any later than you already are. Go."
Aragorn opened his mouth to speak, but at the cold look on Arwen's fair elven face he fell silent and left the room, his mind swirling once more with cold self-abuse.
Am I incapable of making a single decision that does not harm those around me? he asked himself furiously, stomping down the stairs towards the counsel chambers.
He stopped just short of the bottom, and took a moment to compose himself before entering the room. He sighed wearily, but erased the exhaustion and burden from his face, replacing it with the well-practiced (yet feigned) expression of levelheadedness and nobility, as was expected of him.
"King Elessar." Faramir said in greeting, bowing his head in acknowledgment as Aragorn entered the room.
"Lord Faramir." he replied, smiling at the Steward in an attempt to hide his disgruntled mood. "And these must be our guests. Welcome to the White City! My deepest apologies on my lateness; we are burdened with much work at the moment, as you no doubt are aware."
"Of course, my lord, it is not an issue." replied one of the dignitaries, stepping forwards and bowing slightly. "We can relate to that problem, I assure you."
"This is Lord Brandir, sire." Faramir explained.
"Ah, I have heard much of your tireless efforts." Elessar said warmly, vaguely recalling a discussion about the man in weeks previous. "You were responsible for directing our soldiers in the disbanding of several rebel bands in the north-west, am I correct?"
"Yes, my lord. We have been plagued by rogue followers of Sauron, attacking villages and plundering anything of value." Lord Brandir stated. "And I am ashamed to say that they are not all Orcs, my lord. There are Men among them!"
"Men?" Aragorn repeated, frowning. "Men of the East?"
"Yes, sire, or so we assume. Our guesswork says that they originate from the Sea of Rhûn." Lord Brandir replied.
"We have not been plagued by those Men since the siege resulting in the death of King Ondoher. But that was nigh on 1,000 years ago. They could not possibly be from the Sea of Rhûn." Aragorn disagreed.
Now it was the dignitaries' turn to frown.
"The point you make is relevant." Lord Brandir said finally, after a poignant pause. "This matter is one we must discuss, along with the other causes for which we travelled to Minas Tirith."
"You must be tired from your travels." Aragorn said quickly. "I had forgotten that you travelled many miles for this counsel. Let us be seated, and rest your weary bodies. I will summon food and wine, and we can be comfortable."
True to his word, Aragorn led them into one of the formal dining rooms, and soon the dozen or so dignitaries, as well as himself and his Steward, were seated. The table was burdened with the best food the royal kitchens could provide, and as soon as the guests had taken their sustenance, discussion resumed.
"We had assumed the Men attacking us were from the Sea of Rhûn, mainly because there was nowhere else from whence they could come. Most of the the Men of the East fought and were killed in battle before the Black Gates, and few remain. We have not heard of any Men from southward, either." Lord Brandir pondered.
"The strangest thing is that some of the intruders seems almost Gondorian." commented one of the younger dignitaries pensively.
"What do you mean by that?" Aragorn asked sharply. "Lord...?"
"Hirluin. I am Lord Hirluin." he replied quickly. "I have led our soldiers in pursuit of the rebels. The groups we have observed are not in high number, but they seem organized. Their tactics are that of our own armies, and they speak in our tongue. If I did not know better, I would say they were traitors from within the kingdom itself!"
"Traitors?" Aragorn repeated in horror, a chill running down his spine and his face paling visibly; nothing could be worse news for a king.
"That is impossible." Faramir interjected, glancing at Aragorn's horror stricken face with concern. "There are no traitors of Gondor."
"I agree. I know Men of high ranking from throughout the kingdom, and I am constantly told of the warm reception to the return of the king. These Men are not of our own kin." Lord Brandir stated firmly, glancing at Lord Hirluin sternly. "It is wrong to even discuss such a matter! It is a betrayal of the trust in our people."
"And yet it is a relevant concern." Lord Hirluin said stubbornly. "If we cannot find intruders from outside the kingdom, is it not logical to seek it within?"
"Perhaps we are merely looking in the wrong place." Aragorn suggested. "But I see no point in further speculating. That will merely provide suspicion and doubt from within our own walls, which will do naught to benefit the situation."
"Wise words, King Elessar." Lord Brandir said in agreement. "Let us lighten the mood for a moment. Tell us of the White City. Not often do we get news from the capital."
"What can I say? Time passes much the same as it always has." Aragorn answered lightly, taking a sip from his goblet whilst he thought. "We are still rebuilding, as you no doubt noticed upon arrival, but we are beginning to settle back into life in the days of peace. Long has it been since the people of Minas Tirith lived without trace of fear, but soon enough we will readjust to normality."
"That is welcome news indeed." Lord Brandir said, smiling.
"And what of yourselves? How are you faring in the north-west?" Aragorn replied. "I am eager to visit Erech and the northern provinces. Long have I wished to see that land again, and to travel westward over the White Mountains."
"We would welcome your presence, my lord, but perhaps it is not best to travel the mountains. Not at the moment, at least." Lord Hirluin interjected.
"Why?" Aragorn asked, eyebrows raised in surprise.
"We have observed a... presence, in the mountains." Lord Hirluin said hesitantly.
Aragorn's heart skipped a beat.
"In the north-west?" he repeated weakly.
"Yes, my lord. In the White Mountains." Lord Hirluin affirmed.
Aragorn's hand began to shake so violently that he set down his goblet for fear that he would spill its contents. Legolas and Gimli had planned to journey along the White Mountains - what if they had strayed into the path of danger, or an unknown enemy?
"Of what type is this presence?" Aragorn asked, frowning deeply.
"Men." Lord Brandir answered plainly. "That is all we know of them. We assumed that they were rebels, from the Sea of Rhûn like the others, but it is mere guesswork, for we have scarcely encountered them."
"There are Men of unknown purpose and origin hiding in the kingdom - why was I not told of this?" the King asked angrily, staring at Faramir with accusation
"Well, the sightings occurred just over the Rohan border, so it was not really of our concern-" Lord Brandir began sheepishly.
"Of course it was of our concern. There are potential - and probable - enemies, hiding in mountains that people of Gondor can readily access!" Aragorn snapped, his voice quaking with anger.
"The sightings were f-from further n-north." Lord Hirluin stammered. "There was little chance of any such attacks."
"In any case, it is not protocol for us to inform the king of every rebel band we encounter, else we would be in constant, never-ending correspondence!" Lord Brandir exclaimed.
"Further north? Where exactly?" Aragorn questioned impatiently, completely ignoring Lord Brandir's comment, however logical it may have been.
"Just across the border, in Rohan. Around the region of Helm's Deep." he answered blankly.
Aragorn felt his face pale several shades, and his chest constricted with panic and fear. He stood bolt upright, his mind racing. He stood for a moment, frozen to the spot with dread.
"My lord, are you alright?" Faramir asked, deeply concerned, whilst the dignitaries exchanged looks of bewilderment.
"If you would excuse me for a moment." he managed to choke out, before striding from the chamber.
As soon as the door had swung shut behind him, a strangled cry escaped his lips. His head swam in disorientation, and he placed a hand onto the wall to steady himself. A tidal wave of fear crashed over him, and it took all of his restraint to prevent him from falling to the floor in despair.
Not only have I driven you from the city, Legolas, but now I have placed you yet again in danger, Aragorn thought sorrowfully. It would seem that I alone have brought you more peril than all of Sauron's forces combined!
"Estel!" gasped a voice suddenly from behind him. "Estel, what is the matter?"
Arwen rushed to his side, her beautiful face no longer filled with the cold anger of before, but with deep worry. She stared at him in concern, examining his defeated pose with confusion.
"Legolas and Gimli may be in great peril." he uttered hoarsely in reply, eyes downcast.
"Great peril? How, and of what nature?" Arwen queried, frowning.
"The visiting dignitaries have observed Men, hiding in the mountains." Aragorn said desolately. "They are near Helm's Deep."
Arwen gasped. "Men? Rebels?"
"Perhaps." Aragorn said uncertainly. "Though they know barely anything of them. Lord Brandir assumed that they were rebels from the Sea of Rhûn. But I am not so certain. We have not been plagued by those Men for centuries. Arwen, I fear they may be traitors of Gondor."
"Nay. That is impossible." Arwen said immediately. "Estel, they could not-"
"Why could they not? I would not blame them for abandoning the new king!" he replied bitterly.
Arwen sighed, and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"You may have made some wrong decisions in the past, Estel, but that does not mean that every problem in the kingdom is of your liability. You cannot blame yourself for this." she murmured softly.
"He is in danger, Arwen, when he should not be. Has Legolas not been through enough in this war? Both of them, he and Gimli, have fought for me and my people, without complaint or query. The whole war was not even truly theirs to fight in, for it was Men that Sauron primarily fought to vanquish. And now, when they have both earned freedom from combat, they are once again at risk of it..." Aragorn moaned.
"They may not come into harm, Estel. We do not know enough to be able to make judgement." Arwen said calmly.
"We know nothing, Arwen! We are facing an enemy that we know nothing about!" Aragorn moaned, pulling anxiously at his dark hair.
"We cannot be certain that these Men are even enemies." Arwen pointed out. "But it is beside the point - just because there is a risk does not mean that it will occur."
"But what if it does? Fate has never been on our side before. Why should it be now?" Aragorn replied coldly.
Arwen sighed, running a hand along his arm reassuringly.
"There is nothing that can be done now. I suppose we must merely hope for the best." she murmured gently. "But remember, you are Estel. You are hope, as your namesake suggests. You are the hope of our people, the light when all else had failed. Have faith in your own strength, and it will carry you through this."
Aragorn nodded slowly, straightening up and returning to a noble, dignified pose. Yet his face bore the signs of his weariness, and his eyes shone with the reawakened sting of guilt.
"Your dignitaries will be awaiting your presence." Arwen added gently. "After their travels, you ought not to keep them waiting."
"Indeed, yes." Aragorn muttered absentmindedly, before staring up at his wife, face laden with gratitude. "Arwen, I am eternally thankful-"
"It is no burden." she said lightly, smiling warmly at the King. "You had best get back to your council."
Aragorn opened his mouth to reply, but she had already begun walking away. Just as she was about to turn the corner, she spun back to face him with a mischievous smile.
"And do not assume that I have forgotten about your attempted runaway." she added, smirking. "But I can wait until later to discuss that matter with you."
Aragorn winced in mock horror, but couldn't prevent a smile from flittering across his face. As Arwen walked out of sight, he exhaled deeply, clearing from his mind all of the worry and pain he could, replacing it with bearing and nobility. He opened the doors hesitantly, and re-entered the chamber, very conscious of the watchful eyes following his footsteps.
"Forgive me, my friends. I had an urgent personal matter to attend to, but now all is well once more." Aragorn apologized, smiling warmly in concealment of his true reasoning. "But enough of this talk about Minas Tirith. You came to seek my counsel, did you not?"
"Indeed, my lord." Lord Brandir agreed.
Aragorn spread his arms welcomingly. "I am waiting with ready ears, and will do my best to give of you the answers you seek from me."
Conversation waned into the typical type of counsel Aragorn was usually sought of; discussions of military tactics, alliances, dealing with the general population, and of the rebuilding processes in place following their destruction in the war. He had no difficulty with these questions, for every day he answered ones much the same.
Indeed, the greatest difficulty was feigning interest in petty matters such as squabbles over land and property. Aragorn did his best to act as a welcoming and politely curious host, whilst attempting to erase the memory of his strange behavior by cheerfully calling for more food and wine, and ensuring the goblets of his guests were continually refilled.
When night had at last fallen outside the windows of the White Tower, Aragorn was relieved to be able to conclude their meeting and escape to privacy, where his facade of peace and nonchalance could finally be removed.
"Friends, it is late, and you are no doubt still tired from your travels. Let my people lead you to our guest chambers, where you can rest unhindered." he stated, with a casual air. "That is, if I have given you all that you require of my counsel."
"Of course, my lord, and it is received gratefully." Lord Hirluin replied on behalf of the group. "But we are indeed fatigued, and will need our strength for the journey home."
The king rose, and the others followed, each bowing or murmuring thanks to their host, who replied with well-feigned pleasure. Gradually the dignitaries trickled out of the room, and the door swung shut at last.
Immediately Aragorn slumped into the nearest chair, sighing with both physical exhaustion and weariness of mind brought about by much worry and concern.
"You gave good counsel, Aragorn." Faramir said quietly, pacing behind the king's seat. "Even after you were unsettled."
"Was I that obvious?" Aragorn said with a scornful laugh.
"Not at all. On the contrary, you are getting rather better at concealing your true emotions. I am not sure that is an entirely good thing, though." Faramir replied, frowning slightly.
Aragorn replied with nothing but a heaved sigh.
"You should sleep, Aragorn. Today has been taxing on you." the Steward prompted. "A good night's sleep would do you much good."
Aragorn was doubtful of whether mere rest could heal him of the wounds he had dealt himself. Yet he rose silently, nodded gratefully once more at Faramir, and exited the hall.
He ascended the spiraling staircases with clumsily drowsy feet, arriving finally at a door adorned with a carved tree, above which sat seven stars; the symbol of the King of Gondor. His hand froze on the handle as he stared up at the carving, taking more stock than usual in what the image represented. He pushed the door open, shaking away the doubts circling in his mind, and entered the private sanctuary of his and Arwen's personal chambers.
The spacious room was unlit, but the dim moonlight allowed enough visibility to see the elegant chamber reasonably clearly. It was simply furnished, to the taste of both of its residents, but for an ornately carved bed of honey-colored wood that took pride of place in the center of the room. Silky curtains billowed at the windows, and a door, open wide, led out onto the balcony which overlooked the White City.
"You are finished at last." came the voice of his wife from the balcony.
"You did not have to wait." he replied reprovingly, closing the door behind him and joining her, glancing over the city lights below.
"It was my wish to." she replied simply, turning to him with a slightly sad smile. "I thought that perhaps you wanted to discuss today's happenings."
He remained unspoken, uncertain as to how to respond, and allowed the night wind to fill the silence. He shivered slightly from the cold, and glanced sideways in wonder at Arwen, who was clothed only in a gown of thin silken material yet stood unaffected by the chill. Not for the first time he envied her Elvish blood, and could recall too many occasions when her immunity from extreme cold would have been more than useful.
Arwen heard his shiver, and coupled with his silence, mistook it for fear.
"Estel, they will not come to harm." she said firmly. "Gimli and Legolas are more than capable of such a journey. You need not go after them."
"I know that to be true, yet my heart tells a different tale. Even before I heard of these mysterious Men in the White Mountains, I wished to follow Legolas, to let him see of my remorse. But now that it is revealed of the danger I may have placed him in, the desire burns only the stronger." Aragorn replied, staring searchingly out at the distant horizon.
"Do you not think I miss him also? Legolas was like a brother to me, Estel. I mourn his departure just as much as you do." Arwen responded firmly, before her voice softened. "I understand your burden, Estel. I too wish for Legolas to return to the city unbegrudged, and I would do anything within my means to keep him from harm."
"Is it not better to attempt to keep him from harm, even if it does not prevail?" Aragorn questioned provokingly.
"Not if Gondor loses its king in the process." Arwen snapped angrily.
Aragorn drew back hastily in surprise, while Arwen sighed softly.
"To follow seems like the obvious solution. But to escape the city in desperate chase will do nought to help him. You know better than most that no Man could catch a Firstborn on a horse. It would be fruitless labor," she murmured softly. "and the danger it would place you in would be more than it is worth to attempt such an act."
"I would be in no more danger than any other traveller." Aragorn argued. "I would be dressed in Ranger's clothing, and no one would be any the wiser-"
"Yet past experience should tell you that you have a tendency of ending up in less than ideal situations." Arwen said, giving him a stern look. "You may not go looking for it, Estel, but danger greets you at every turn you take."
"Then if anything I have become accustomed to it, and know how to act when it comes!" Aragorn replied fiercely.
"Does it slip your mind that I am with child? Do you expect me to raise your son or daughter, the heir of Gondor, husbandless and alone?" Arwen retaliated. "I cannot lose you, Estel, nor can this kingdom lose its king yet again. You cannot pursue Legolas. It is an unachievable mission."
Aragorn's expression softened at these words, his noble features marred by grief and uncertainty. His grey eyes were downcast, and his brow was bent with worry.
"It was foolish of me to ponder departure." he murmured finally, staring out at the starry night before him. "Nay, I cannot leave this city, nor the responsibilities that come with it. But I must tell Legolas and Gimli of the danger they are in."
Arwen opened her mouth to argue, but Aragorn continued immediately.
"I do not mean to follow myself." he said quickly, glancing at her reassuringly. "But we have many soldiers at our disposal, do we not? What if I were to send a scout after them, to inform them on my behalf? Surely that could do no damage."
"It is certainly a better idea than the king himself riding off." Arwen concluded, though her tone was slightly uneasy. "And if it will keep you safe, then I am much gladdened."
"Then it is settled. The Captain of the Guard will be asleep, considering the hour, but come morning I will request that he send one of his men." Aragorn decided. "Perhaps some of my guilt may then be abated."
"Yet, guiltful or otherwise, you too must rest." Arwen responded, turning away from the city and stepping towards the doorway. "Sometimes I think you forget that you, too, need sleep. You may be a king, but you are still a mortal Man, and you need rest as readily as any other."
Too weary to protest, Aragorn followed Arwen back indoors. As an afterthought, he kicked off his boots, before falling back onto the bed covers. His exhaustion winning over, his eyelids drooped shut, and within moments he was drifting through dreams scattered with haunted memories, and the nervous sense of imminent attack.