Chapter 2

The King's Other Face

April 3

Minas Tirith

Aragorn reigned his horse in, his gaze following the white circles of Minas Tirith and the Tower of Ecthellion rising above him. The wind whipped through his dark hair, bringing the scent of woodlands and earth from somewhere far away and filling his chest with the wild free air of the west.

A gentle touch rested on his forearm and he turned to the elven woman beside him, returning the concerned look in her dark blue eyes with an innocent stare of his own.

"Come back to me, my Dúnadan," Arwen whispered in her own tongue, eyes smiling in spite of herself.

"Am I not beside you, my Evenstar?"

"No, you were far away roaming amongst the hills of the north and the plains of the south — recalling somewhat of those adventures and dangers which filled your life before I entered it."

"Perhaps I was. But adventure and danger did not end when your face first entered my waking dreams, Arwen. I seem to recall a good many things happening afterwards. The War of the Ring, for a mild example." The boyish twinkle in his eyes was hidden by the grave tone in which he spoke, concealing the couple's badinage from the guards dismounting around them. Only Erynbenn and Eression, being Dúnedain, understood the gray tongue anyway, and they were used to such jesting.

Arwen sighed, drawing her hood from her own dark hair and relinquishing her reigns to the stable boy as Aragorn reached up to help her dismount. "What excuse may a poor woman offer? My hand slipped, the universe moved temporarily out of my control, and it was not I who offered your services to escort the most evil token in all of Middle Earth to the fires of the Dark Lord's mountain. That part of the disaster was your own doing."

"Not disaster, surely," Aragorn demurred, raising her slender hand to his lips and kissing it gently. His blue eyes did not try to hide the depth of his love.

Her soft lips curved into a smile as the ring of Barahir flashed green on her finger. "Again, Estel, you have cheated in our battle of wits."

"Blame your brothers."

The wide door of the palace swung open with a crash at the combined push of two children, and a chorus of shouts echoed across the stone courtyard and grassy lawn to greet them.

"Ada!"

"Naneth!"

Aragorn laughed as he caught the flying figure of his daughter, lifting her and spinning her around. "What news, fair Elenwen?" he asked her, smiling as her face turned thoughtful and a good deal more serious than one might expect of a six-year-old.

"Arien took Gilraen and me for a walk, and Eldarion jumped his pony over a bush while I was on it with him, and Naneth's trees are beginning to grow buds, and Pippin says that spring is coming. Oh yes, and I stitched a bird on my tapestry, but it doesn't look like a bird, it looks like a dwarf with feathers," the girl finished, smiling up at her father with a face so like her mother's it was uncanny.

"It sounds as though you were absolutely bored," Aragorn teased. "Next time we leave for a week I shall make sure you have activities to keep you occupied."

"Not at all, Ada!" Eldarion protested earnestly. He was standing in front of his mother, her hands resting on his shoulders as she laughed over her daughter's report. "I tracked and caught Duurben three times while you were gone and he fell right over the third time — he didn't even see me coming!"

The king sighed, wondering how he had come to inherit such an enthusiastic hunter. Oh, he remembered, of course; this is exactly what you wished on me, was it not, Father? When I strung a trip-wire outside your study door…

"Eldarion, what have I told you about tackling poor Duurben?"

The boy gave him a blank look, implying that whatever had been said had left his mind as soon as it had entered.

"Likely he did see you, but he is far too old a friend and too decorous a subject to ever directly request that you leave him in peace. His task is to protect us, my son, and he doesn't need the complication of having attacks come from the very quarter which he defends. If you must tackle anyone, let it be me."

"Aye, or me, your highness," Erynbenn put in from behind the family, his face still boyish in spite of having long since reached full maturity. "Or Eression here — he wouldn't mind over much, I think."

Eression inclined his head in agreement, not actually smiling as his attention was split between the conversation and the emptying wind-swept courtyard.

"Ada, may I?" Eldarion asked, his eyes alight at the challenge.

"Rangers corrupting my son from all sides," Aragorn growled in feigned irritation.

"I fear you must count yourself among their number, Estel," Arwen said, "for you and Legolas have taught our son the greater portion of his combative skills and it would be unjust indeed for you to lay all the blame on other shoulders."

"As usual, my wife is wise beyond the skill of elves or Valar to measure. How can I argue? Come, we must take ourselves inside. Spring may indeed be on its way — and I would not be one to doubt Pippin's word on the matter — but it is not here yet and Elenwen will catch a cold with no cloak on."

Together they entered the palace, Erynbenn and Eression bringing up the rear and closing the heavy doors behind them. Waiting at the foot of the main staircase stood a tall, smiling woman with watchful dark eyes and long brown hair, a small girl holding her hand.

"Arien," Arwen greeted the woman warmly.

"My lady," the lady-in-waiting gave an abbreviated curtsey, letting go of the girl's hand as the child gave a cry of delight and ran to her mother. "I am glad to see you back so soon. Gilraen has been missing you most dreadfully."

Gilraen accentuated this statement by clinging to her mother's knees, burying her pretty face in the folds of warm silver velvet. "Naneth," she said, tilting her head back so that her dark curls parted to reveal her small pointed ears, and her silver eyes danced with energy. "Ar'en braided my hair!"

"I can see that," Arwen laughed, running her fingers through her daughter's loose curls and untangling the white ribbon that had once been tied in a bow. "And have you behaved yourself, my sweet one?"

The girl nodded vigorously, her short nose wrinkling emphatically.

"She was an angel, my lady," Arien put in warmly, her calm features giving away no evidence of her having chased the royal dervish up and down stairs for the past seven days.

Arwen's elven ladies-in-waiting had each traveled to the Havens with their families and she had decided not to replace them with others of her kin. Instead she had chosen Arien, a half-blood Numenorean; for though marriages among that people were rare, her father had been of the northern Dúnedain under Aragorn. Arien had since become a welcome member of the household, both through her role as Arwen's only handmaid and her endless help with the children, and the king and queen trusted her implicitly.

"I thank you for the deception, Arien," said Arwen, kissing Gilraen on the forehead and knowing her wild nature all too well. For a child of only three years, the youngest daughter of Elessar and Arwen had a speed that could match any of Rohan's steeds.

"How was your journey?" the lady-in-waiting asked.

"Quite restful," Aragorn nodded, removing his cloak and feeling glad that for now he was surrounded by people who had no illusions about who he was. In this room he was Estel, and Strider the Ranger, and Ada. Elessar was weary and needed a few days of rest. "Neither beast nor orc nor Southron to be seen. Though that may have had something to do with certain people insisting upon a wide guard perimeter at all times." With great effort he checked his desire to scowl, but Eression gave him a stern look nevertheless.

"It is their duty, sire," Arien said, her brown eyes twinkling. "You would not have them behave disloyally by shirking it, would you?"

"Thank you, Arien," Erynbenn said, sweeping her a grateful bow. "Though there is no reasoning with your king when it comes to his love of freedom. Unfortunately, we were forced to point out the possible danger to the queen before he decided to forfeit his plan to slip away from us. Not that he could have — he trained us too well for that."

Aragorn frowned austerely at the man. "I am still your senior in tracking, Captain Erynbenn, as well as in battle, and I cannot have you belittling me before my children — it might drive me to slip from under your nose in retaliation and leave you to face my wife's wrath. Again, that is."

Arwen's eyebrows rose and Erynbenn winced.

"Actually, I was glad of the peace," Aragorn admitted. "A rogue Southron would have quite ruined the journey."

"If the Southrons attack here," Eldarion said eagerly, "they won't be able to pass the front gates! And if some climb over the walls, I'll help you find them, Ada."

"Thank you for the offer, my son, but there will be no Southrons here and your Uncle Gimli should arrive any day with the dwarves he promised to help refurbish those gates. He has been saying that the first version was only a draft and that the second will put all other examples of dwarven stone-craft to shame. Perhaps you and I shall take him to see Uncle Legolas in Ithilien while he is here."

"He would like that!"

"I agree. Now I must go speak with Duurben and then we shall all go to see those buds your sister says are on Naneth's trees. Go with Arien and get your cloaks."

With an answer of agreement from Eldarion, a solemn nod from Elenwen, and a gleeful squeal from Gilraen at the word 'cloaks', which implied something about being outdoors, all three children raced up the stairs. Arien followed, her cranberry colored skirt swishing with her sure steps as she called after them, "Prince Eldarion, your cloak isn't up there — you left it in the dining hall."

Leaving Arwen to look in on state of the household, Aragorn dismissed Erynbenn from his duties early and ordered him off home to his young wife and son. "King or no, she will do me an injury if I keep you from her longer than is necessary," Aragorn remarked.

"Of course not, for Melima is native to this city and far too in awe of you to do you harm," Erynbenn protested, laughing.

"I am not willing to stake my life on that reassurance."

Once Erynbenn had departed, Aragorn took Eression with him and went in search of his captain of the guard.

Duurben was in close conversation with an impossibly short subordinate when Aragorn finally found him. The diminutive soldier had an intent expression on his face and was carrying his helmet leisurely under one arm.

"Hullo Aragorn!" called Pippin.

"Your highness," Duurben greeted the king with a bow and a smile. "And Captain Eression. I am pleased to see you both returned in good health."

"Greetings, Sir Pippin, Duurben," said Aragorn, touching the man's shoulder warmly. "How has Minas Tirith fared in my absence?"

"Fine as spring rain, and a fair bit of it at that," the hobbit announced cheerfully.

"As quiet as may be expected," said Duurben.

"Meaning 'not very', since my son does live here, after all."

"My lord, you know I meant—"

"Nothing of the kind, of course," the king finished humorously. "Everyone seems bent on presenting my wild young ones in the best light; as if Arwen and I do not know their ways inside and out. Is there then nothing in need of my attention?"

"I do not believe so, no."

Aragorn felt relieved, though he had not truly expected anything to have gone wrong.

"May we ask how things went over with Prince Imrahil?" Pippin asked pleasantly, his hobbit curiosity overriding all of Duurben's attempts to instill a sense of rank in him.

"Very well, thank you. The Prince is the soul of hospitality and Dol Amroth is prosperous in spite of the recent attacks from the Southrons. It is a good thing that these kings of Harad have not yet tried to unite against us."

"Do you really think they might?" Pippin asked. "If so I'll have to write home to Diamond that Sam and his Rosie should make their visit to us soon. He's very keen on oliphaunts."

"I'm afraid I can't share his enthusiasm in this case," said Aragorn. "We're still not fully recovered in strength and an attack could prove disastrous if placed correctly. I have been meaning to summon Faramir here so that we might investigate the best plan of action should such an assault actually cross the border, but each time the danger has passed and I have neglected to meet with him. Perhaps I am getting old and tired."

"Hardly," Pippin said stoutly. "Why Captain Durrben is a good many years older than you and he's still as quick on his feet as one could hope to be. I only hope I shall be half so sprightly when I grow old."

Duurben gave a long-suffering sigh which was covered by Aragorn's laugh.

"Actually, Sir Peregrin," Eression murmured, when it became clear the king was too overcome with mirth to offer an explanation for his laughter, "King Elessar is about ten years the captain's senior. It is the blood of Numenor that tricks you."

"Oh," said Pippin, shaking his head ruefully over his thoughtlessness. "And here I thought I'd stopped saying outrageous things years ago. I suppose that is why Lady Arien and Captain Erynbenn look so very young still too?"

"Something like that," Eression agreed, not mentioning his own similar ancestry.

"I do apologize, Captain, sir, I meant no offence whatsoever," Pippin bowed to his superior.

"You never do, Sir Peregrin," Duurben agreed. "You never do. And I forgive you, though it is well for you that your service under the Stewards was of but short duration."

Pippin frowned, perhaps recalling the horrible end of the man to whom he had first sworn fealty. "Do you think Lord Denethor would have become bothered by my loose ways?"

The guardsman's face was mostly expressionless, his usual mode when discussion turned to his former lord. He did not answer.

"Having known him many years ago, Pippin," Aragorn said, "I would be inclined to suppose so. Thus it's most fortunate that your current ruler is so very loose in his own ways," he bit back a smile, "and that King Eomer is of a similar disposition."

"Merry's a good deal more proper than I," Pippin pointed out. "Eomer has less trouble to handle than you. By the way, have your children seen you? Eldarion's been missing you terribly and kept insisting on hearing every story I know of you over and over and over and over again. I tell you, Aragorn, next time you go away you shall have to leave us Legolas to keep the lad occupied."

"Legolas has already occupied Eldarion more than enough with tales of my reckless youth. And speaking of my children, I had promised them a walk for which I shall be late if Arwen and Arien are as efficient as usual."

"Best not keep them waiting, then."

As Aragorn and Eression made their way towards the doors again, Eression said, "I would ask you, my lord king, if pity should have a place in jesting."

"You refer to my maneuvering Duurben into calling my son wild and myself loose in my ways, I suppose. Never fear, he does not mind; he knows me too well. And one might also ask whether you have any pity for me. Never once did you succeed in speaking to me by my true name when we still fought in the north, and now that I am king I fear all hope is lost for unstilted conversation!"

"You believe this is stilted?"

"Yes, Eression, stilted enough. We have been friends a long time, whether you name it thus or no. We should not have to still be conversing as a thrall to his owner as you insisted when first you pledged me your allegiance." He cast the captain a sidelong smile. "You still have a great space yet to go, but if it is my duty as your king to cure you of excessive ceremony, then I shall do so. Eventually."

"Yes, your majesty."

"For the sake of the Valar, anything but 'your majesty'! Grant me that at least."

A twinkle might have sparkled from the all too serious eyes. "Yes, sire."