Arwen would have said that this was cheating, but Aragorn didn’t care.  The King was allowed to accept or deny visitors at his free will, and if this meant holing himself up in his room at any time of the day that he did not have official duties, then so be it.  He would not be made even more of a spectacle than he already was.

The more he thought about it, the more he was troubled by Galadriel’s implied knowledge of the entire situation.  A keen judge of character he was, but he had not the power to cast out his mind and communicate with others through thought the way the elves did.  Arwen, for all her relinquishment of the life of the Eldar, retained it; and this must have been the way Galadriel had learned of his current plight—unless Arwen had slipped out of bed while he slumbered.  At any rate, for all he knew, every single elf in the city could be currently beside himself laughing at the mental picture of Aragorn’s appearance, and he knew his brothers too well to believe that they would be content with that—Elrond’s warning or no.

It was hard to exist as King when one was living with people that knew the intimate details of one’s first brush with the chamber pot; and while Elladan and Elrohir were models of discretion in public, this did not mean that they did not refresh their stock of embarrassing stories for personal entertainment.  He began to make a mental list of elves to avoid at all costs today, and concluded that his current course of action was the best: the only elf that he thought would have any sympathy for him was Legolas.  Yet Legolas could not be counted upon for support, for, likely as not, if he had received Elrond’s admonition, he would be himself sequestered.

A servant entered the room from the antechamber.  “My lord King,” he said, “the Lady Undómiel requests entrance.”

She would no doubt be irritated that her entrance had to come announced, but he had asked to be informed of all the people who wished to see him in private.  “She comes alone?”

“Yes, my lord.”

Aragorn nodded.  “Very well, she may enter.”

Arwen did enter, and she was, no doubt, irritated.  “It is a sad day when I must announce my entrance into my own chambers, Estel.”

“Aye,” said Aragorn, stretching out as best as he could in this constricting clothing, “and a sad day when I can trust next to no one who enters them.”

“Surely you do not mean to say that you fear I shall worsen your plight?”

“I do not know what mischief you have planned for today, Arwen.  I feared you might bring Elladan and Elrohir in tow.”

            Arwen sat down next to him upon the loveseat, smiling.  “Then fear not, for I neither seen nor spoken to them today.  The only one I have spoken with is Galadriel, and even then the conversation did not go beyond planning your outfit for today.”

            “So, you have left them to their own devices.”

            “Perhaps,” said Arwen, and her grey eyes sparkled.  “Still, I dislike the approach that you are taking.  The audience this morning was all very well, but for you to hide like this—it rather defeats the purpose of today.  My heart forebodes me.”

            Aragorn more snorted than laughed.  “Does your heart also tell you that it would be best for me to stride boldly up and down the streets and make myself a laughingstock?”

            “I was not jesting about this, love.  But at least I believe that your devices will defeat themselves soon, and today you will, by necessity, be much more public than on everyday occasions.  I know that you are only bound to wear the dress today, and not to display it, but still… there is the matter of that red gown.”

            “I see how it is.  But it is not the reaction of the people that concerns me, Arwen, as much as that of the elves, who will remember this far longer than any of us will.  I cannot let them see me.”

            “Not even at the feast tonight?”

            Aragorn was silent for a few moments.  “Very well—I concede my defeat.  Still, I shall try to best them, especially my brothers, as much as I can, for I would still fight this hopeless battle.”

            Arwen smiled.  “There.  That is the man that I love.”

            The memory of Faramir’s ordeal earlier in the day prevented him from kissing her more than chastely, which was well, for the servant returned shortly announcing the arrival of a party of elves.

            “Tell them I am indisposed,” said Aragorn.  A few minutes later he returned, saying that the group wished to discuss the planting of trees in the City as a gift to the new King.  Aragorn weighed the matter in his head for a moment.  “These elves do not wish to disclose their names, do they?”

            “No, my lord, but I can tell you that the Lords Elladan and Elrohir are not among their number.”

            “And the Lady Galadriel?”

            “She is not among them either.”

            He breathed a sigh of relief.  “Send them in.”