Chapter Thirty-Three: Blood and Law
Warning: Very long chapter, and in all honestly, very depressing!
️ ️
It took Faramir a month to make the lists Aragorn requested and contact the relatives of Bonirun and Mortardur. Like his King, the Steward was eager to find a home for these innocent people and spare them the cruel fate of servitude. The task proved more complicated than either of them had anticipated. Many noble families were reluctant to take in the kin of traitors, fearing that sheltering such families might tarnish their own reputations or create suspicions of divided loyalties. Some were sympathetic but hesitated, wary of the political implications and the burden it might place upon them. Faramir spent long hours writing letters, attending meetings, and trying to sway those who might be persuaded. He personally visited several households, relying on his reputation and his own status to appeal to their sense of justice. Yet, even with all his efforts, the results were slow.
One evening, as the Steward sat in his chambers, reviewing yet another rejection letter, the exhaustion of the past weeks began to weigh on him. He sighed, rubbing his temples, before looking at the final list of names he had compiled. Bonirun's family found shelter with some of their relatives, But none of Mortardur's relatives agreed to take in his wife and son. A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts, and he glanced up to find Aragorn entering. His face mirrored weariness yet was filled with resolve.
"Any news?" Aragorn asked, though the look in his eyes suggested he already knew the answer.
"I've had some success, but not as much as I'd hoped," Faramir replied, his voice laced with frustration. "I managed to secure a family to shelter Lord Bonirun's kin, but I failed to find one willing to take in Lord Mortardur's wife and child. They are either refusing outright or stalling for time, afraid of the political consequences."
Aragorn sank into a nearby chair, running a hand through his hair.
"I expected as much," he said, his tone resigned. "It seems even compassion has limits when it comes to protecting one's own interests."
Faramir hesitated before speaking again, his tone more tentative.
"My Lord, I have a suggestion," he said. "Perhaps if you were to speak to these families directly, they might be swayed. In the meantime, I could continue searching for more families willing to assist. I believe you should speak to Lord Turundo, Lady Vanëanis' father. He should be the one to shelter his daughter and grandson."
Aragorn nodded thoughtfully.
"Did Turundo refuse to take them in?"
"He hasn't replied to my letters," Faramir replied. "I've also tried to contact his eldest son, but with the same result."
"How many sons does Turundo have?" Aragorn asked.
"Three," Faramir said, "but they are fiercely loyal to their father's will. It's unlikely they would act without his approval."
Aragorn leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes as he considered Faramir's suggestion. He wondered if he should take Legolas' earlier advice and force someone to take in Vanëanis and her son. But deep down, he knew that if he compelled a family to accept them, there was a high risk they could be mistreated.
"Call Lord Turundo and his sons to Minas Tirith," Aragorn finally said, his voice carrying the weight of his decision. "It's time we speak with them directly."
Faramir nodded in agreement, sensing the gravity of what lay ahead.
"I'll make the necessary arrangements, my Lord."
Aragorn stood, his face set with determination, but there was a weariness behind his eyes that even the King could not entirely mask. He placed a hand on Faramir's shoulder before turning to leave.
"Thank you, Faramir," Aragorn said quietly. "Your efforts in this matter have not gone unnoticed. Let me know as soon as Lord Turundo and his sons arrive."
Faramir inclined his head respectfully.
"I will, my Lord."
As Aragorn exited the room, Faramir watched the door close softly behind him. Left alone, the Steward allowed himself a brief moment of stillness, the exhaustion of the past month seeping into his bones. But there was no time for rest yet; they were far from resolving the issue. He sighed deeply and returned to the stack of letters on his desk. There was still much work to be done.
️ ️
The following morning, Legolas went to visit Vanëanis right after breakfast. He had wanted to see the Lady since the last hearing but was hesitant to see her after the magnitude of her husband's betrayal spread all over the castle and beyond. He wasn't sure why he hesitated, but he thought Vanëanis would feel uncomfortable in his presence. However, after learning of the fate awaiting her and her son, he needed to see and talk to her. He thought he could at least console her. However, he was surprised when the guards denied him entry into Mortardur's villa. Legolas returned to the castle, frustration gnawing at him. The guards' refusal to let him see Vanëanis left a sour taste in his mouth, and the weight of her situation weighed heavily on his heart. He had hoped that despite everything, he could offer her some solace and comfort in the wake of her husband's betrayal. Yet, the walls of bureaucracy seemed to stand taller than the walls of Mortardur's villa.
FLASHBACK
He strode purposefully through the castle halls until he found Faramir in one of the council chambers, surrounded by papers and letters, his brow furrowed in concentration.
"Faramir," Legolas called out, his voice betraying the frustration he had been trying to contain. "I went to see Vanëanis this morning, but the guards wouldn't let me in."
Faramir looked up from his work, his expression softening when he saw the Elven Prince. He sighed, leaning back in his chair as though the weight of the entire situation rested upon his shoulders.
"I'm sorry, Your Highness," Faramir said, his tone filled with regret. "The Council passed a restriction on her after the last hearing. She's under house arrest, and no one can visit her without the Council's approval."
Legolas' jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides.
"Why wasn't I told of this?"
"It's a standing procedure," Faramir explained. "I apologize. I should have informed you sooner, but so much has happened after Mortardur's betrayal. And I didn't think you'd try to visit her."
"This is madness," Legolas exclaimed. "She has suffered enough because of her husband's actions. And now, they keep her locked away, unable to see anyone?"
"The Council fears she might be involved," Faramir explained. "or at the very least, that her presence could stir discontent among the nobles. They are being cautious."
"Cautious?" Legolas repeated, his voice thick with disbelief. "Vanëanis is a victim in this. And now, instead of support, she is being treated like a criminal. She and her child—isolated, without allies."
"I agree with you," Faramir said gently. "But until the Council's investigation is complete, their word stands. If you wish to visit her, you'll need their approval."
Legolas took a deep breath, attempting to steady the anger he felt rising within him. The Council, with all their rules and restrictions, only seemed to make things harder for those already suffering. He couldn't stand idly by while Vanëanis was left alone to bear the brunt of her husband's treachery.
"I will speak to the Council," Legolas said, his voice resolute. "She deserves at least one friendly face in all of this."
"How about I petition on your behalf, and we'll see if I can convince them to grant you permission?" Faramir suggested, anticipating a looming fight if Legolas were to speak with the Council.
Legolas narrowed his eyes before he sighed.
"Fine," he said with a sigh. "Thank you, Faramir."
As Legolas turned to leave the chamber, the heavy burden of his next task weighed on him. He knew convincing the Council would be difficult, but he had to try for Vanëanis and her son. No one, especially not her, should be made to suffer alone.
END OF FLASHBACK
After a long month of negotiations with the Council, Legolas was granted permission to visit Vanëanis. He stood at the entrance of Mortardur's villa, feeling a strange sense of unease. He had never visited the place before, not even during the height of Mortardur's prominence. Now, the very walls seemed to carry the weight of the betrayal that had shaken the Kingdom.
The guards opened the gates, but there was no welcoming warmth, only a sombre formality. Legolas hesitated, a knot of uncertainty tightening in his chest. He wasn't sure why he felt so compelled to visit Vanëanis, but he knew it was something he had to do. After all, the woman had suffered enough. He entered the dimly lit hallway, guided by a servant to the room where Vanëanis was waiting for him. His thoughts raced. He imagined how she might feel—ashamed, perhaps even resentful. She had every reason to avoid him, considering her husband's treachery and the burden it had placed on her and her child. When the servant stopped at the door, he nodded respectfully before knocking gently. A quiet voice from within permitted entry, and Legolas braced himself as he stepped inside.
Vanëanis sat in a corner, her gaze fixed on the window. Her once-proud bearing had shrunk, and her posture betrayed an internal defeat that mirrored her circumstances. She didn't turn to face him.
"Lady Vanëanis," Legolas spoke softly, his voice tender of someone who had experienced the weight of loss and suffering.
For a long moment, she said nothing, her back rigid, her eyes fixed on the view outside. Finally, she spoke, her voice laced with a deep shame.
"I didn't expect you to come here...Your Highness."
Legolas approached cautiously, though he kept his distance, sensing the invisible wall between them.
"I came because I wanted to," he said gently. "Not because I was obligated."
She still didn't turn to look at him, her hands clasping together in her lap as if trying to hold onto something—dignity, perhaps, or composure in the face of overwhelming shame.
"I imagine you must despise me," Vanëanis whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. "For what my husband has done..."
Legolas shook his head, though she couldn't see it.
"No, Lady Vanëanis. You are not to blame for your husband's actions. You and your son are as much victims of his choices as anyone else."
A heavy and uncomfortable silence hung between them before she finally spoke again, her voice quieter and more fragile.
"It does not feel that way..."
Legolas took a step closer, though his voice remained calm and nonjudgmental.
"I understand why you would feel that way. But I am not here to pass judgment on you. I came to offer you... my friendship, and my support. You and your son should not have to bear this alone."
For the first time since he entered, Vanëanis turned to face him. Her eyes, red from the tears she had clearly shed in private, locked with his as if looking into his soul, trying to determine his thoughts. There was a mixture of disbelief and relief, though the shame still lingered.
"Why?" she asked, her voice barely audible. "Why would you offer me kindness after all that has happened?"
Legolas met her gaze with unflinching sincerity.
"Because no one should be made to suffer for the sins of another. And because, despite everything, I still believe in compassion."
Tears welled in Vanëanis' eyes, and she quickly turned away as if ashamed to show her vulnerability.
"I'm not sure I deserve it."
"We all deserve compassion," Legolas said gently. "Even in our darkest moments."
Vanëanis said nothing, but the tension between them seemed to ease if only a little.
Legolas remained silent, giving Vanëanis the space she needed. He could feel her heavy burden and understood that offering comfort amid her shame was delicate. After a moment, she spoke again, her voice trembling.
"When I first learned what Mortardur had done, I felt... disbelief, anger, shame." She spoke as her fingers gripped the edge of her seat, knuckles white. "I couldn't reconcile the man I knew with the traitor everyone spoke of. He was a good husband and father—or at least I believed him to be."
Legolas listened intently, not interrupting her, allowing her to release the storm of emotions she had held inside for so long.
"And then I began to wonder," she continued, "if there were signs that I missed. If, somehow, I failed to see what he had become. His ambitions...his secret meetings... Should I have known? Should I have stopped him?" Her voice cracked again as her guilt poured out.
"You could not have known," Legolas reassured her softly. "Mortardur's actions were his own. No one expects betrayal from those they love. It's not your burden to bear."
Vanëanis finally looked at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of grief and gratitude.
"Do you truly believe that?"
Legolas met her gaze steadily, his tone firm.
"I do. And so does Aragorn."
She seemed taken aback by the mention of Aragorn's understanding.
"He... does not hold me responsible?"
"Not at all," Legolas replied. "He knows you are innocent in all this, and he has been doing everything in his power to ensure that you and your son are not punished for Mortardur's actions."
Vanëanis exhaled, a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. It was clear that hearing those words from Legolas offered some measure of comfort, though her inner turmoil remained. She stood up, walking to the window, her back once again turned to him.
"I'm scared, Prince Legolas," she admitted quietly. "For my son...for what his life will be, now that he bears the weight of his father's name. I fear for his future."
Legolas stood and joined her by the window, though he kept a respectful distance. "You are not alone in this, Lady Vanëanis. You and your son will not be forgotten. Aragorn has pledged to protect you, and I will do what I can to ensure that you both are treated with the dignity you deserve."
She turned her head slightly as if considering his words and then nodded slowly.
"I appreciate your kindness... though I still feel undeserving of it."
Legolas smiled softly.
"That is precisely when we need kindness the most—when we feel unworthy of it," he said.
Vanëanis let those words settle in the air between them. For the first time in weeks, the crushing weight on her chest seemed to lift just a little, and though the sorrow and shame still lingered, a small glimmer of hope began to stir within her.
"Thank you," she whispered, her voice sincere though still tinged with uncertainty.
"You're welcome," Legolas replied warmly. "And if you ever need someone to talk to or listen to, all you have to do is tell the guards to inform me. I will come to you."
Vanëanis nodded again, and though she didn't say it aloud, Legolas could sense that his presence had brought her some comfort. With that, he bowed his head slightly and began to leave, understanding that she needed time to process everything.
As he stepped out of the villa, the tension in his chest loosened. He had done what he came to do—offer support to a woman caught in the crossfire of her husband's betrayal. And now, as he returned to the castle, Legolas felt a renewed sense of purpose. There was still much to do, but he had taken the first step in helping Vanëanis find her way through the darkness.
️ ️
Faramir blinked as he observed Aragorn working at his desk. The King silently read and signed petitions and proposals while tapping one foot on the stone floor, the quiet rhythm betraying the tension in his otherwise composed demeanour. Faramir knew that gesture well—it meant Aragorn's mind was occupied with something more than just the papers before him. Faramir cleared his throat softly, stepping closer and sitting opposite the desk.
"You seem...distracted, my Lord."
Aragorn looked up from the parchment, his sharp grey eyes meeting Faramir's briefly before he sighed, setting down the quill. He leaned back in his chair, the subtle tension in his posture more noticeable now.
"I am. This...this matter with Legolas visiting Lady Vanëanis weighs heavily on me."
"Why?"
"To be honest," Aragorn said. "I'm not convinced that she's entirely innocent."
Faramir's brow furrowed slightly at Aragorn's admission, a flicker of surprise crossing his usually composed features.
"You believe Vanëanis might have had a part in Mortardur's betrayal?" he asked cautiously.
Aragorn sighed again, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"I don't know what to believe," he said. "Mortardur kept many secrets, and I had to consider every possibility. Even if she had no active role in his schemes, it's hard to imagine she knew nothing at all. They were married for years...surely, she must have noticed something."
Faramir's expression was thoughtful as he considered Aragorn's words.
"It's possible she knew some things, my Lord, but fear or loyalty to her husband might have kept her silent. And yet, that doesn't mean she condoned his actions."
Aragorn nodded slowly, acknowledging the point, though the doubt still lingered in his eyes.
"You're right, Faramir. It's unfair to assume guilt by association. But I cannot afford to be naïve. Lady Gwîneth told me that going on a trip was Lady Vanëanis' idea. She initially suggested a trip to Pelargir, but Lady Gwîneth and Princess Éowyn changed the destination to Ithilien, and Orophin did mention that Mortardur was planning to arrange for Legolas to leave the city to ease Orophin's mission to kidnap him."
Faramir's eyes sharpened as he recalled the hearing session.
"Yes, I remember hearing Orophin himself say that Mortardur, through his wife, had planned to arrange for Legolas to leave the city. That would have made it easier for Orophin to carry out his mission to kidnap him," he said. "But that doesn't mean she knew of her husband's scheme. She might suggest it to Prince Legolas in good faith."
"And she could be aware of her husband's plans," Aragorn said, pointedly looking at the Steward. "Can you guarantee either claim?"
Faramir blinked before shaking his head.
"Does Prince Legolas know of your doubts?" he asked.
"No," Aragorn said. "He's convinced that Lady Vanëanis is innocent, that she's another victim in all of this. He believes she's been caught in a storm, not her making."
Faramir glanced down, understanding the complexity of Aragorn's position.
"He has a compassionate heart," he said. "It's one of his greatest strengths but also leaves him vulnerable to those who might exploit that compassion."
"Exactly," Aragorn nodded slowly, a mixture of frustration and sadness crossing his features. "And that's what worries me. I don't want to see him hurt because he trusted someone who may have played a larger role in this betrayal than he realizes."
"And the solution?"
"I would be at ease if Lady Vanëanis and her son were taken away from Legolas," he said with a sigh. "And if we fail to find a family to take them in, I want you to place them away from the Castle."
Faramir absorbed Aragorn's words, his expression thoughtful yet cautious. He could see how deeply this matter weighed on the King.
"My Lord," he said carefully, "if Vanëanis truly is involved somehow, then keeping her away from the castle may prevent further harm. But if she is innocent, as Legolas believes, wouldn't isolating her and her son create more bitterness?"
Aragorn sighed, his hand running through his hair as if trying to release the tension building within him.
"I know, Faramir. It's a delicate balance. I don't want to be unjust. But if there's even a shadow of doubt about her, then keeping her close is a risk I cannot take."
"Perhaps we can find a middle ground," Faramir nodded, understanding the burden of Aragorn's position. "If they must leave Minas Tirith, we could place them somewhere safe but ensure they are still under watch—enough to protect her if she is innocent, but not close enough to be a potential threat."
Aragorn considered this for a moment, his fingers tapping lightly on the table.
"Yes. That might work. I want no more risks, Faramir. Not with Legolas' heart, safety, or the Kingdom's stability."
"I'll make the necessary arrangements, my Lord," Faramir said. "And ensure that the Council is aware of the gravity of the situation."
"Good," Aragorn replied, his voice low. "I trust you to handle this."
Faramir stood, sensing that the conversation had reached its conclusion. Yet, as he turned to leave, Aragorn's voice stopped him.
"Faramir," the King said quietly, "I know this is a difficult task, but I cannot let my heart alone guide this decision. Too much is at stake. You understand, don't you?"
Faramir offered a brief nod, understanding the weight of that final sentiment as he left the room to begin the delicate process of securing Vanëanis' future.
️ ️
Two weeks passed, and Faramir's efforts to find suitable families for the relatives of traitors were unsuccessful in Vanëanis' case. Her and her son's only hope rested on convincing her father, Lord Turundo, to take them in.
In the meantime, Legolas kept visiting her, much to Aragorn's dismay. Despite the mounting tension, Legolas remained steadfast in his visits to Vanëanis. Their bond of shared grief seemed to deepen, and every time Legolas returned from the villa, his expressions were a mixture of compassion and sorrow. Aragorn couldn't bring himself to tell Legolas of his growing doubts about Vanëanis, though the unspoken disapproval lingered between them.
Aragorn would often watch as Legolas left their chambers in the early morning, and each time, a part of him wanted to call his husband back to tell him that there were more layers to the situation than Legolas realized. But he couldn't. Not yet. Instead, he worked quietly, trying to resolve the situation from a different angle, waiting for Turundo's arrival and hoping that, somehow, a solution would present itself before matters became even more complicated.
️ ️
The day had finally come. Two weeks after the initial summons, Lord Turundo and his eldest son, Tauro, arrived in Minas Tirith. Their entrance into the city had been marked with the usual decorum befitting nobles of their stature. Still, there was an air of distance in Turundo's demeanour, as though his presence here was merely a formality, an obligation rather than a willing visit.
Aragorn and Faramir waited for them in the grand Council chamber. As they entered, Turundo remained stoic, his gaze sweeping the room with calm authority. Beside him, his equally stern son Tauro stood with the same unyielding posture. The Lord was profoundly displeased by the entire situation, and whatever sentiment he might have held for his daughter, his pride would not allow it to show.
"King Elessar," Turundo greeted, his voice carrying the formal stiffness of one who did not relish the task ahead. He gave a slight nod of respect but nothing more.
"I have come as requested."
Aragorn stood, offering a courteous nod in return.
"Lord Turundo, thank you for coming. We have much to discuss."
Turundo took his seat without invitation, his movements precise, his eyes betraying nothing of what he honestly thought. Tauro remained standing at his side, a silent, watchful presence. Faramir stood beside Aragorn, silently observing the talks. Aragorn and Turundo sat in silence for a while, their eyes locked, each man trying to assess the other's state of mind.
"You know why you were called here," Aragorn began. "Lady Vanëanis and her son need shelter. As her father, it is only right that she and her child are placed under your protection."
Turundo's lips pressed into a thin line, his hands folding neatly in his lap.
"I am aware of the situation," he said evenly, "but I am also aware of the damage my son-in-law's actions have wrought upon my family name. The stain of treason, as you know, does not wash away easily. To take Vanëanis and her child into my household...would raise questions about my family's loyalty. It could tarnish the reputation I have upheld for decades."
"Your daughter had no part in Mortardur's treachery," Aragorn's gaze narrowed slightly, though he remained composed. "She and her son are innocent. Surely, you do not mean to abandon them."
Turundo's expression remained hard as stone.
"Innocence is difficult to prove in these situations, Your Majesty, and the Court of public opinion is rarely swayed by such claims. Whether she's innocent of her husband's deeds or not, the fact remains that she bears his name. Her presence in my household could be...problematic."
There was a brief, tense silence in the room. Faramir glanced at Aragorn, waiting to see how the King would respond to such an argument.
"Mortardur's treachery does not define Lady Vanëanis," Aragorn said, his voice calm but firm. "Nor does it define her child. They are victims of circumstance, not criminals. To abandon them would be unjust. Your loyalty is unquestionable to us; that's why you will be entrusted with their welfare."
Turundo's eyes flickered ever so slightly, a small sign that the words had reached him, though he still held firm.
"You must understand, Your Majesty, that honour is everything to a family such as mine. To invite Vanëanis back into my household will risk that honour and loyalty. The whispers have already begun—what will they say if I openly shelter the wife and son of a traitor?"
Tauro shifted uncomfortably beside his father as though he wished to speak, but Turundo's rigid authority kept him silent.
Aragorn leaned forward, his voice measured.
"Honour is not simply about preserving one's reputation. It is about doing what is right, even when it is difficult. Lady Vanëanis and her son need you, Lord Turundo. They need their family now more than ever."
The corners of the Lord's lips tugged into a ghost smirk.
"Your Majesty, you're still influenced by the ideals of the Elven race who raised you," he said. "Such sentiments, while they hold some truth, pale in front of the nature of humans and politics in Gondor's Court. Some may praise me for sheltering my misfortune daughter and her son, but many will eye me and my sons with suspicion and doubt, wondering whether I had a connection to what my son-in-law had done."
Aragorn's eyes hardened at the subtle rebuke, though he kept his tone calm.
"I was raised by the Elves, yes," he replied, "but I am also a son of Gondor, steeped in its traditions and aware of its politics. I've served in Gondor's Court before and know how delicate the balance of power and reputation can be. But I also know that the strength of a family, a noble family, is not defined by fear of public opinion but by its ability to stand by its own when they are most in need."
Turundo remained unfazed.
"Perhaps," he conceded, "but this is not just about sentiment or family ties. It is about legacy and loyalty. If I take Vanëanis in, I risk casting doubt upon my family's loyalty to Gondor."
Faramir, sensing the tension in the room, stepped forward.
"Lord Turundo," he said carefully, "your reputation as a loyal servant of Gondor precedes you. No one could question your commitment. That loyalty makes you the ideal custodian for your daughter or her son; leaving your daughter and grandson without a safe haven could speak just as loudly to those watching from the shadows. Your actions now will determine how history remembers this moment."
"My loyalty, as you say, is unquestioned," Turundo's gaze shifted briefly to Faramir before returning to Aragorn. "That is why I must consider all the consequences. Vanëanis is my blood, but Mortardur's treachery is a stain that spreads."
Aragorn took a deep breath, his frustration clear but controlled.
"Lord Turundo, I am not asking you to forget what Mortardur has done. I am asking you to remember who your daughter and grandson are. They need your protection, not because of what they represent but because they are family. If we allow fear of suspicion to dictate our actions, we allow treachery to divide us further."
Turundo's jaw tightened. He glanced briefly at his son Tauro, who remained silent but whose eyes spoke volumes—torn between loyalty to his father and concern for his sister. For the first time, a flicker of something passed through Turundo's cold exterior—a moment of hesitation, perhaps—but it was quickly replaced by a familiar rigidity.
"I may be willing to provide my daughter shelter," he said. "but with a condition."
"What condition?" Aragorn asked, feeling slightly hopeful.
"I'll give shelter to my daughter alone," Turundo's words shattered every hope the two men had. "I will not accept the spawn of a traitor into my household or even my lands. If Vanëanis wants shelter, she comes alone, without Mortardur's son."
Aragorn's expression hardened, and his eyes narrowed at Turundo's cold and calculated words. The audacity of such a demand stirred deep anger within him, but he fought to keep his voice calm.
"Lord Turundo," Aragorn began, his tone measured though the strain was evident. "You cannot possibly expect your daughter to abandon her own child—an innocent boy who has done nothing but be born to the wrong man. He bears no guilt for his father's crimes, and to separate them is not only cruel but unthinkable."
Faramir, standing by, looked equally appalled but remained silent, letting Aragorn take the lead in this delicate moment.
Turundo's jaw remained set, his resolve unwavering.
"I understand your sentiments, Your Majesty," he replied, his voice as cold as ever. "But my family's honour comes before sentiment. The child carries Mortardur's blood, and in the eyes of many, that blood is tainted. I cannot risk my reputation or the reputation of my household for the sake of a child who might one day bring more shame upon us."
Aragorn's hands clenched into fists, though he kept them hidden beneath the table. His patience was wearing thin.
"The child is no more to blame for Mortardur's actions than Lady Vanëanis is. To condemn him is to punish the innocent, which I will not condone. If you take your daughter, you take her son as well. You speak of family loyalty," Aragorn almost spat. "yet you offer your daughter a cruel choice between her one-year-old child and her personal safety and comfort. This is no true loyalty, Lord Turundo, but a manipulation of it."
Turundo raised an eyebrow, his expression unmoved.
"I see it as a necessary test, Your Majesty. Loyalty and honour are built on difficult choices. If Vanëanis truly wishes to return to her family, then she will make the decision that reflects her understanding of the greater consequences."
Faramir, who had remained silent thus far, could no longer hold back.
"Surely you must see, my Lord, that forcing her to abandon her son will bring no honour to anyone. This is not a matter of loyalty; it is a matter of humanity."
Turundo turned his cold gaze toward Faramir.
"My family has served Gondor for generations, Lord Faramir. We do not bow to sentiment or act without considering the long-term implications of our actions. I do not expect you to understand." He looked at Aragorn, but his face remained impassive. "Why don't you give that choice to Vanëanis herself, Your Majesty? Let her decide what's more important, her loyalty to her family or husband."
"A husband that you've chosen for her!" Aragorn couldn't help but reprove.
"True," Turundo replied with ease; Aragorn and Faramir envied him for. "However, she bears a part of the guilt for not keeping him in line."
Aragorn's jaw tightened at Turundo's final remark, and the tension in the room grew thick with unspoken fury. He drew a steady breath before responding, his voice laced with restrained anger.
"Lady Vanëanis should not be held accountable for her husband's choices. Mortardur acted of his own volition, and to suggest that she shares in his guilt for failing to control him is both unjust and insulting."
"Perhaps in your view," Turundo's expression remained unchanged, his eyes hard and unyielding. "But in mine, a wife has a responsibility towards her household. Her silence, whether through ignorance or fear, speaks volumes. She has a duty to ensure her family's survival by keeping her husband in line. If she fails in that duty, then she must bear the consequences."
"I will not allow you to manipulate your daughter in this way," Aragorn stood, his imposing figure casting a long shadow over the room. "The boy is innocent, and I will not have him punished for the sins of his father. Lady Vanëanis and her son will not be separated under any circumstances, even if she wanted. That is my final word on the matter."
Turundo rose to meet Aragorn's gaze, his face as stern as ever.
"Then I fear we are at an impasse, Your Majesty." He adjusted his robes with a deliberate calm. "I cannot compromise my house for the sake of one child. Do not expect me to bend so easily. I will protect my family's honour at any cost. My offer stands: Vanëanis may seek refuge with me, but the boy stays behind."
"I will not allow Lady Vanëanis and her son to be victims of your twisted sense of honour," Aragorn hissed. "I will repeat my position: if you take her in, you take the boy as well. Anything less is inhumane."
Turundo met Aragorn's stare, and momentarily, the air between them seemed to crackle with tension. But after a long, heavy pause, Turundo gave a slight, dismissive nod.
"I see where we stand, Your Majesty. We shall see how long such idealism lasts in a world ruled by practicality and hard choices," Turundo said before he gave a short, almost dismissive bow before he gestured for Tauro to follow, and the two turned to leave the room.
As the door closed behind them, Aragorn remained standing, his jaw tight and his fists still clenched. The tension in the room hung like a thick fog, and Faramir finally broke the silence.
"I didn't think even Lord Turundo would be that heartless," Faramir muttered.
Aragorn let out a slow, controlled breath as he sat back on his seat and was joined by Faramir.
"His pride and so-called honour are more important to him than his flesh and blood. I had hoped better of him, but now it's clear where his priorities lie." He turned to Faramir, his expression resolute. "We will find another way. I will not allow that boy to be abandoned. Faramir, can't you talk to Lord Tauro away from his father? Perhaps you could convince him—"
"He will not defy his father, Aragorn," Faramir said. "Lord Turundo controls his sons by keeping them dependent on him. He governs all of Lebennin County and has unbreakable ties with the other governors. To defy him means isolation from all of Gondor's domains."
Aragorn's face darkened as he absorbed Faramir's words, his frustration mounting. He let out a slow breath, his voice taut with the weight of the situation.
"Then we are left with few options," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Turundo has clarified his position, and his sons won't go against him. But we can't leave Vanëanis and her child without protection."
Faramir nodded in agreement.
"No, we can't. The Council may see the injustice in separating a mother from her child, but they also might hesitate to act openly against a powerful Lord like Turundo."
"I must talk to Legolas, Aragorn said. "He needs to understand what we're dealing with, but I fear his heart will break if we cannot find a solution. He won't accept abandoning Vanëanis and her son, nor can I."
Faramir observed Aragorn.
"Perhaps it's time we look beyond Gondor's borders, my Lord. If no one here is willing to take them in, perhaps allies elsewhere could offer them sanctuary…the Elven realms?"
Aragorn paused, considering the idea.
"Rivendell... or even Lothlórien," he said. "Both places could offer them safety far from Gondor's politics and scrutiny." He shook his head slightly. "But the Elves are leaving Middle-Earth, Faramir. I can't guarantee how long they would stay." Faramir nodded, seeing the flaw Aragorn pointed out. "Plus," the King continued. "it could seem like exile—further isolating Vanëanis from her people and leaving them in a place that is becoming abandoned. It's not a solution for the long term. Sending her to the Elves would distance her too much, and I fear it would only create more speculation about what she might have known. It could fuel rumours that we're hiding something."
Faramir met Aragorn's gaze, his expression thoughtful.
"Then, perhaps we look closer to home," the Steward suggested. "Rohan?"
"The same principle applies to Rohan," Aragorn answered. "It's a different Kingdom, Faramir. How can I exile a woman and a child to a different Kingdom?"
"How about Ithilien, Anor, Anfalas or Belfalas?" he suggested.
"Anor is a still unstable region with all the rebuilding going on," Aragorn said. "I can't send Vanëanis and her son there. It might put them at risk in an unsecured, still under-developing region. They could end up vulnerable to banditry, lawlessness, or political opportunism. We've already tried Anfalas or Belfalas, but no family has agreed to take them in. Our best option is Ithielin. There, they would be under your care. However, do you think the Council will agree?"
Faramir paused, thinking carefully before speaking.
"We can present the option of sending Vanëanis and her son to Ithilien to the Council and let them weigh in," he suggested. "If they approve, we can ensure her safety under our protection without placing her directly under the scrutiny of Minas Tirith's nobles."
Aragorn considered Faramir's words carefully.
"That could work," he agreed. "Ithilien is close enough to keep a watchful eye yet far enough from the centre of court politics. But what if the Council rejects it?"
Faramir shrugged.
"If they reject it, we will know where they stand. Then, we can explore other options. But presenting Ithilien keeps things transparent—it won't seem like we're hiding them away or protecting them in secret, which could fuel more rumours."
Aragorn nodded, seeing the merit in the idea.
"If they approve Ithilien," he said, "it could appease those who still question her innocence and keep her and the child close enough to monitor."
"When do you want to address the Council?" Faramir asked.
"How fast can you arrange such a meeting?"
Faramir considered Aragorn's question for a moment, weighing the logistics of gathering the Council on short notice. The political climate was tense, and calling an impromptu meeting would likely arouse suspicion.
"By tomorrow afternoon," he replied confidently. "I can gather the Council by then, but I advise you to be cautious. They will scrutinize every word we say, and some may already have firm opinions on the matter."
"Let them scrutinize," Aragorn said, acknowledging the gravity of the situation. "It wouldn't be a first! We need to show we are acting openly and fairly. Ithilien is our best option, and we must frame it as such—both for Lady Vanëanis' protection and to maintain order in Gondor. I trust you to protect her and her son from anyone who would take advantage of them."
Faramir rose to leave, but before departing, he paused at the door.
"And what of Prince Legolas, my Lord? If the Council rejects this idea, he will not accept it easily. He is deeply invested in ensuring their safety."
Aragorn sighed deeply, his thoughts immediately turning to his husband.
"I'll speak with him before the meeting. He needs to know what we're against, but I fear how he'll respond if the Council refuses."
Faramir gave a solemn nod, understanding the delicate nature of the situation. "Then let us hope the Council sees reason," he said quietly before exiting the room.
Left alone in the quiet of his study, Aragorn felt the weight of the decisions ahead. He had always believed in justice and mercy, but the complexity of Gondor's politics often made those values challenging to uphold. With a deep breath, he steeled himself for what was to come, knowing the stakes were high—not only for Vanëanis and her child but also for the peace within his Kingdom.
"Tomorrow," he muttered to himself, "we'll see where we truly stand."
️ ️
Aragorn found Legolas at the archery range, accompanied by Mallorn and Elrohir. The King stood at a distance, quietly observing as his husband talked, smiled, and laughed with the two Elves. For a moment, Aragorn felt a pang of nostalgia. Since the birth of Míreth, their lives was consumed by sadness, tension, and the weight of conspiracy. It suddenly occurred to him that they had nearly forgotten what it meant to relax, to enjoy each other's company without the ever-looming shadow of responsibility. Watching Legolas with a rare smile on his face brought a flicker of warmth to Aragorn's heart, a reminder of simpler times they had once shared.
Aragorn's gaze lingered as Legolas stepped forward, positioning himself in front of a target. With graceful precision, he held his bow and notched an arrow. With a fluid motion so familiar yet mesmerizing, he pulled the string back, focused, his entire being attuned to the shot. There was a moment of stillness, the world around them fading into quiet anticipation. Then, with a soft twang, the arrow flew, hitting its mark with effortless precision. Aragorn smiled softly, his heart swelling with pride and affection as he watched the ease with which Legolas moved, a reminder that, despite all that had passed, there was still beauty, joy, and light in their lives. Taking a deep breath, he approached the three elves.
"Good day," he greeted.
"Good day, Elessar," Mallorn said. "Though it doesn't look that good by the look on your face."
"Ruling isn't easy, especially when decisions seem to grow heavier each day," Aragorn replied with a wry smile. He glanced at Legolas, who lowered his bow and turned toward him with a curious expression.
Legolas stepped closer, his blue eyes searching Aragorn's face.
"You seem troubled," he said softly, his earlier smile fading into concern.
Aragorn sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"The weight of the council's decision lingers over us, and I feel like every path I consider leads to more questions than answers."
Elrohir, sensing the mood, exchanged a glance with Mallorn.
"Perhaps we should give you two some time," Elrohir said, nodding respectfully before leaving the range with Mallorn, who offered his brother a parting smile and a nod to Aragorn.
Once alone, Legolas gently placed a hand on Aragorn's arm.
"What troubles you so deeply?" he asked quietly, his voice soothingly contrasting Aragorn's tension.
Aragorn gazed at his husband, momentarily letting the calmness of the moment ease his burden.
"It's about Vanëanis and her son. I just met her father, Lord Turundo, to ask him to take her and her son under his custody."
"And?"
"He refused to take her in."
"WHAT?" Legolas exclaimed, his voice rising in disbelief. "He refused to offer his daughter and grandson shelter?Why?"
"He fears the stigma that would follow him if he welcomed a traitor's wife and son into his house," Aragorn replied, his voice heavy with frustration.
"But—" Legolas faltered, lost for words.
His mind raced, trying to grasp how a father could abandon his daughter in her time of need. His face flushed with anger and disbelief as if the very idea went against everything he understood about loyalty and love. Aragorn could see the fire in his blue eyes, the barely contained fury and disgust.
"How could he?" he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "What kind of father does that to his own child?" He heaved a deep breath, his chest rising and falling as he struggled to contain his growing anger. "Is his heart made of stone?"
Aragorn placed a comforting hand on Legolas' shoulder, his own frustration tempered by deep weariness.
"It seems so," he said quietly. "Turundo values his reputation and honour above the well-being of his daughter and grandson. It's the harsh reality of how some men in Gondor think. Appearances matter more than family."
Legolas shook his head in disbelief, his fingers clenching into fists at his sides.
"But she ishisdaughter, Aragorn! How can reputation be more important than her safety and the future of an innocent child?"
"I asked him the same thing," Aragorn replied. "But Turundo has made his decision, which is as cold and rigid as he is."
"And what would Vanëanis and her son's fate be now?" Legolas asked.
"Fararmir will take them under his care," Aragorn replied.
"Faramir? You mean they will be located to Ithilien?"
"Yes," Aragorn nodded. "He's an essential figure in the Court and fiercely loyal to Gondor. They will be well taken care of under his protection."
"Can't we take them in?" Legolas asked. "They will be well taken care of under our protection here in Minas Tirith!"
"This defies the purpose of the law," Aragorn said, his voice steady but filled with concern. "Being in Minas Tirith near the royal family poses a possible danger in the eyes of the Council. It would fuel suspicions. People already question Vanëanis' involvement, whether justified or not. Bringing her into the palace, into our home, might be seen as shielding her, and some would argue that we're protecting someone with questionable ties to Mortardur's schemes."
Legolas' eyes narrowed slightly, the frustration building within him.
"But she is innocent, Aragorn. And her son is just a child—how can they not see that?"
"I know, meleth nîn," Aragorn replied softly, placing his hand over Legolas'. "But the Council doesn't operate with the same compassion you do. Their decisions are driven by politics, fear, and maintaining order. If we act rashly, we might make things worse, not just for Vanëanis and her son, but also for us."
Legolas fell silent, his mind racing. His heart ached for Vanëanis and her child, knowing the unfairness of their plight.
"I cannot stand by and let them suffer, Aragorn. We must do more."
Aragorn met his gaze, his expression soft yet filled with determination.
"We will ensure that they are taken care of, Legolas. Faramir will make sure of that. They will be far enough from the politics of Minas Tirith but close enough for us to protect them."
"And what if that isn't enough?" Legolas asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Aragorn sighed.
"We will keep watch. But for now, this is the safest option. If we bring them too close, we risk more than just their safety. We risk drawing attention to them in ways that could harm us all."
Legolas lowered his gaze, the weight of the situation pressing heavily on his heart. He knew Aragorn was right, but the feeling of helplessness gnawed at him.
"I will visit them often. I won't let them feel abandoned."
Aragorn smiled gently, squeezing Legolas' hand.
"I wouldn't expect anything less from you."
"So, the Council agreed to this?"
"Not yet," Aragorn replied. "Tomorrow, I will inform them."
"I want to present," Legolas said.
"No, Legolas. I wouldn't recommend it," the man said.
"Why not?"
"Because you're emotionally invested in Vanëanis and her son."
Legolas' blue eyes turned icy blue as he glared at his husband.
"Are you saying my emotions cloud my judgment, King Elessar?" he asked coldly.
Aragorn held Legolas' icy gaze, recognizing the tension in his husband's tone but remaining calm. He sighed softly, carefully choosing his words.
"That's not what I'm saying, Legolas," he replied, his voice gentle but firm. "I know your heart and how much you care about Vanëanis and her son. But this Council is filled with men who look for any sign of weakness, any excuse to question our decisions. If they sense your emotions leading the argument, they may be more inclined to push back or dismiss the suggestion altogether." Legolas' glare did not waver, but his lips pressed into a thin line as he listened. "I'm asking you to trust me on this," Aragorn continued. "It's not a matter of doubting your judgment; it's about strategy. The Council already questions her innocence, and your involvement could be seen as a personal plea rather than a practical solution."
There was silence between them for a moment, the air heavy with unspoken feelings. Legolas took a deep breath, his shoulders slowly relaxing, though his eyes remained sharp.
"I trust you, Aragorn," he said quietly, though the edge in his voice had softened. "But it is difficult to stand by and watch these men treat her and her child as though they are guilty, as though they don't deserve protection."
"I understand," Aragorn replied, gently reaching out to cup Legolas' face. "I feel the same way. But we will do everything in our power to protect them."
Legolas closed his eyes briefly, leaning into Aragorn's touch, though the frustration still simmered beneath the surface.
"Very well," he conceded. "But if they deny it—if they turn their backs on her—then I will fight for her, Elessar. I will not remain silent."
"I wouldn't expect you to," Aragorn smiled softly, nodding in agreement.
️ ️
"Absolutely not," Vorondo said firmly, his voice cutting through the tension in the room like a blade. His cold eyes locked onto Aragorn's, unyielding. "The Council cannot agree to place a traitor's family under the protection of the Steward. It undermines the spirit of the law."
The tension in the Council chamber was palpable as Aragorn rose to address the gathered lords. His expression was calm, but a fire burned in his grey eyes—a determination that did not go unnoticed.
"My Lords," he said, his voice steady yet commanding. "We gather today to decide the fate of Lady Vanëanis and her son. While the law condemns the families of traitors to servitude, we must ask ourselves—does this align with Gondor's values of justice?"
Lord Vorondo leaned forward, his tone clipped.
"Your Majesty, the law exists to prevent further treachery. To place them under Lord Faramir's care, as you suggest, invites unnecessary risk."
Aragorn's gaze sharpened.
"Do we now fear loyalty itself, Lord Vorondo? Faramir has proven his dedication to Gondor time and again. To question his ability to protect the innocent while upholding the realm's security is an affront to his honour."
Vorondo's jaw tightened.
"It is not Faramir's loyalty we question, but the wisdom of placing individuals connected to treason within reach of the Steward. Lady Vanëanis facilitated Mortardur's movements. The trial made that clear."
"Clear?" Aragorn's voice rose slightly, the steel edge unmistakable. "You speak of suspicion, not evidence. Shall we condemn her and her child based on speculation alone? Justice must be built on truth, not fear."
Culino intervened, his tone conciliatory but firm.
"Your Majesty, the Council shares your concern for justice. However, appearances matter. Placing them under the Steward's care could be perceived as favouritism—or worse, weakness in the face of treachery."
Aragorn's frustration simmered, his fingers tightening on the table's edge.
"And what perception do we create by condemning an innocent child to servitude? That Gondor punishes the blameless alongside the guilty?"
A murmur rippled through the chamber, but Vorondo's voice cut through it.
"The law is clear," he boomed. "Your Majesty. If no noble family will take them in, servitude is the only viable option. It keeps them under control and removes any potential threat."
Aragorn straightened, his tone resolute.
"I refuse to allow this decision to be made lightly. The fate of two people is at stake! What we decide here will set a precedence for the future!"
"And that's why we can't afford to be lenient with them," Vorondo interjected. "Leniency invites weakness, and weakness invites rebellion. Gondor's strength lies in its unwavering adherence to the law."
Aragorn's jaw tightened, his patience wearing thin.
"Gondor's strength also lies in its commitment to justice and honour. If we forsake those values, we undermine the very foundation we seek to protect."
Vorondo met his gaze without flinching.
"Justice and honour demand vigilance, Your Majesty. A single misstep could cost the realm dearly. Mortardur's betrayal has already shaken the kingdom. Are we prepared to risk more for the sake of misplaced compassion?"
Before Aragorn could respond, Culino raised a hand, his tone calm but firm.
"Your Majesty, Lord Vorondo speaks to the fears that grip many in this room. While I share your desire for fairness, we must consider the broader implications. The Council's authority and the people's trust in our governance hinge on consistency in upholding the law."
"Consistency in cruelty is no virtue, Lord Culino," Aragorn's voice dropped, each word deliberate and cold. "I have fought to protect Gondor—its borders and its soul. If we allow fear to dictate our actions, we lose more than we could hope to defend."
The room fell silent, the weight of Aragorn's words pressing heavily on the gathered lords. For a moment, no one spoke, the tension thick enough to cut with a blade.
"What, then, would you propose, Your Majesty?" Culino broke the silence, his tone measured. "If no noble house is willing to take them in, and the Council opposes placing them with Lord Faramir, what alternative do you suggest?"
Aragorn's gaze swept the room, landing on each lord in turn.
"If no noble family will step forward, then they will remain here in Minas Tirith under my supervision. I will not have them cast aside like chattel to satisfy fear-mongering and outdated traditions."
Vorondo's expression darkened, his voice rising.
"Your Majesty, proximity to the royal household poses an even greater risk. It sends a message that royal favour can soften treason's aftermath. Such indulgence invites future dissent."
Aragorn's hands gripped the table's edge, his knuckles white.
"And what message do we send by punishing a mother and her child for crimes they did not commit? That Gondor values retribution over justice? That fear has supplanted honour in this hall?"
The murmurs of the Council grew louder, voices rising in a cacophony of dissent and uncertainty.
"Perhaps a compromise is in order," Culino raised his voice above the noise. "If servitude is unavoidable, let it be within the confines of the castle—distant from the royal quarters and under strict supervision. This satisfies the law while maintaining a semblance of dignity for the accused."
Aragorn hesitated, his gaze piercing Culino's as he weighed the proposal. Finally, he inclined his head, though his expression remained grim.
"If this Council insists on servitude, then so be it. But hear me now—this is a stain on Gondor's honour, and I will see the day when such laws are reformed."
Vorondo nodded stiffly. "As long as the law is upheld, we will consent to this arrangement."
Aragorn stood, his voice resonating with authority. "Then let it be decided. Lady Vanëanis and her son will be placed in service within Minas Tirith, under watch and care. But know this—our work does not end here. Gondor must strive for a future where justice is not bound by fear."
The Council murmured their agreement, some more reluctantly than others, as the session came to a close. Aragorn remained still for a moment, his hands resting heavily on the table as the lords filed out.
When the chamber was empty, he exhaled deeply, the weight of the decision pressing down on him like a physical force. Though he had fought fiercely, the bitter taste of compromise lingered—a reminder that even a King could be shackled by the laws he sought to uphold.
The decision weighed heavily on his shoulders. He had yielded to the law's constraints, but ensuring Vanëanis and her son's safety would now rest on his vigilance. And there was Legolas—his husband, whose compassion and sense of justice would definitely clash with the Council's ruling. Convincing him to accept the decision would be the hardest battle yet.
️ ️
As he walked to his chambers, Aragorn felt like his legs were made of lead, each step heavier than the last. The decision he had just made hung over him like a storm cloud, a bitter reminder of the limits of even a King's power. Vanëanis and her innocent child were to be condemned to servitude—a fate that felt cruel and unjust. Despite the doubts surrounding her loyalty, Aragorn knew in his heart that forcing them into servitude was not true justice.
The arguments in the Council replayed in his mind: the resistance, the fear, and the relentless invocation of Gondor's laws. He had fought for a better outcome, but tradition and politics had tied his hands. Resentment stirred within him—at the Council, at Vanëanis' father, at Mortardur's betrayal, and most painfully, at his own inability to change the outcome.
Would it have made a difference if he had fought harder and spoken louder?
His heart and mind told him no, yet the guilt gnawed at him all the same.
When Aragorn entered his chambers, the warmth of the fire greeted him, casting flickering shadows across the walls. Legolas sat on the couch, engrossed in a book, the golden light playing across his serene features. The sight of him, so calm amidst Aragorn's inner storm, was both a comfort and a source of deeper guilt. Aragorn hesitated in the doorway, watching his husband, knowing the news he carried would shatter this fleeting peace.
Legolas looked up, his blue eyes brightening momentarily before concern clouded them. He set the book aside and rose, his gaze never leaving Aragorn's face.
"Aragorn?" he asked, his voice gentle yet probing. "What has happened?"
Closing the door behind him, Aragorn crossed the room slowly, and sat beside Legolas, struggling to find the words.
"The Council has decided," he began, his voice quieter than usual. "I did everything I could, but…I couldn't sway them. Vanëanis and her son will be placed in servitude."
"What?" Legolas' voice rose, his disbelief sharp and immediate. "Wh—What about Faramir's offer to host them?"
"They rejected it," Aragorn said with a heavy sigh. His hands tightened as he spoke. "The Council deemed it too risky to leave two people with 'questionable loyalties' near the Steward of Gondor. Instead, they will remain here in Minas Tirith, under our watch, but as servants."
Legolas stiffened, his eyes narrowing in frustration.
"Servitude?" he whispered, his voice trembling with both anger and sorrow. "After all you fought for, that's their decision?"
"It's the best I could secure," Aragorn admitted, his frustration seeping into his tone. "I ensured they would stay here, where we can watch over them. It was the only way to prevent a worse fate."
"But they are innocent," Legolas replied, his voice heavy with emotion. "Vanëanis and her son—how can they be condemned to this?"
"I know," Aragorn said, placing a hand on Legolas' shoulder. His voice was filled with regret but steady. "But the Council is blinded by fear. They see only her connection to Mortardur. No matter what I said, they wouldn't see what we see."
"She is not her husband, Aragorn. You know that as well as I do."
"I do," Aragorn said softly, his eyes meeting Legolas'. "But as King, I had to find a way to balance justice with stability. This was the only path I could take without risking everything we've worked to rebuild."
Legolas stared at him for a long moment before letting out a deep sigh. Slowly, he leaned against Aragorn, resting his head on his shoulder. Aragorn wrapped an arm around Legolas' waist, drawing him close.
"I know you did your best," Legolas said quietly.
Aragorn exhaled, the tension in his chest easing slightly at Legolas' words. His husband's understanding brought bittersweet relief.
"I wish there had been another way," he murmured, his voice heavy with regret. "Something that could have spared them this fate. I fought with everything I had."
"I know," Legolas replied, his voice soft but firm. "And I see how deeply it pains you to bear this burden. But it doesn't make it any easier to accept."
They sat in silence for a moment, the crackling of the hearth filling the space between them. Aragorn's gaze rested on the flames, their shifting light reflecting the turmoil in his heart.
"It feels like a failure," Aragorn admitted quietly. "Every decision I've made since Mortardur's betrayal has been weighed down by the lives it touches. Vanëanis, her child, the servants caught in his schemes…even the Council. Every choice feels like a loss."
Legolas lifted his head, turning to look at Aragorn. For the first time, he fully saw the burden his husband carried—not just as a King, but as a man striving to do right in an unforgiving world.
"You carry the weight of an entire kingdom on your shoulders," Legolas said, his tone gentle. "But even a King cannot undo the laws and fears that have governed his subjects for centuries. I see and understand that now. You have done more than most would, Aragorn. You fought for mercy in a place where fear often rules. That is not failure."
Aragorn turned his gaze to Legolas, the Elf's words a balm to his wounded heart.
"You have always seen the best in me," he said, a faint, bittersweet smile tugging at his lips.
Legolas reached out, brushing his fingers lightly against Aragorn's cheek.
"Because I know the man you are," he said. "Your strength, compassion, and resolve—even when the odds are against you—remind me why I trust you with my heart."
Aragorn closed his eyes briefly, letting the words sink in. Then, with a soft smile, he leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to Legolas' forehead.
"You remind me why I fight," Aragorn murmured. "Even when I doubt myself."
They stayed close, their bond a quiet but powerful reminder that, despite their burdens, they would face them together.
"We will watch over them," Legolas said softly, his voice steady with renewed resolve. "Vanëanis and her son will not be forgotten. No matter the Council's decision, we will ensure their lives are not defined by this injustice."
Aragorn nodded, the faintest glimmer of hope rekindling in his heart.
"Yes," he agreed. "Together, we will ensure that even within the constraints of the law, there is compassion and dignity."
️ ️
To Be Continued…
️ ️
What do you think? Frankly, I want to kill Vanëanis' father and brother...