Chapter 9 - A Heart Laid Bare

Earlier that morning…

Aragorn sat his horse through sheer instinct and years of long practice, his mind and heart elsewhere, seized by a despair, the likes of which he had never known. He had only one thought since Arwen fell asleep in his arms earlier. He must get to Rivendell and he must make Elrond see sense and finally give his acceptance of their marriage. To Aragorn's mind it was now the only thing that would stop Arwen from slipping away from him. He would succeed in this. He must. He was clear enough in mind earlier to find Faramir and explain what little he could to his faithful Steward and to leave his ring as token of return. Faramir, at first insisted on going with him, claiming he was in no fit state to be traveling alone. Aragorn mused ruefully, Faramir was right. He was in no fit state, but that could not be helped but by this action that he took now, alone. He finally impressed that upon the younger man but not without great effort. His mouth turned up one corner at the thought.

Faintly in the distance, he thought he heard approaching horses, elven by their sounds, coming from the direction of Hobbiton. He pulled up the trot that Hasufel had been holding and turned peering, into the distant miles he had left behind him. He saw two figures kicking up dust and coming towards him quickly. He sensed more than saw who it was as the distance between them collapsed.

"Mae Govannen! Mindoreg! You left without saying good-bye!" his dark-haired elven foster brother, Elladan said with some forced lightness.

"I've not left!" Aragorn stated somewhat aggrieved at having his solitude disrupted.

"Oh, you hear that, 'Roh, he's not left."

"Could have fooled me. I did not realise that this was the sitting room at Bag End?" said Elladan's twin allowing his horse to trace a circle around the other two horses.

"What I mean is that I'm going to come back, but there is something that I need to take care of first." Aragorn stated somewhat feebly. He loved these two elves, they had always been there for him while he was growing up, supporting him, teaching him, teasing him. These two were always there to provide love and light and much laughter in his life. He always missed them terribly when they went away on patrol with the Rangers of the north and he always counted the days until they would return from missions. Those welcome home days had always been filled with much joy for the young foster son of Lord Elrond.

"Something you need to take care of first! Now what might that be! Hmmmm! Forgot to lock the gates of the Citadel before you left?" Elladan looked pointedly at Aragorn who continued to glare at him. Elladan sobered up, "We'll not let you face Adar alone. Or at least," he amended, "we'll not let you make the journey by yourself. Mithreneg nin!" he ended gently.

Aragorn noted the use of the nickname that Elladan had coined when Aragorn was a child. It meant "My little gray one" Elladan had not called him that in years beyond count, but curiously it did not rankled as one might think it would. It felt comforting and loving. "How do you know where I'm bound?" Aragorn could not conceive of Faramir breaking a confidence.

"Well, we are Elves you know. We can sense these things!" Elladan stated grandly.

"And we overheard you talking to Faramir," Elrohir admitted and had the decency to look a little shamefaced. "Let us stay with you. We'd like to be here with you." An unabashed look of brotherly love and longing shone through his eyes.

Aragorn was touched more than he'd care to admit and it meant a lot to him that Arwen's brothers, his foster brothers cared and obviously approved of Arwen's decision, even if they possibly did not understand it. They both sat on their horses watching and waiting for his decision. He could tell by the way they held themselves that they desperately wanted to come with him. He sighed, "I suppose that I should be glad of some company on this trip. I can only hope that your abilities to cook have improved somewhat, 'Dan."

The twins visibly relaxed, and Elrohir chimed up, "Alas, they have not! Shame really!" a big smile cracking his face as Elladan shot him a glare. Aragorn laughed and then sobered putting his hand on his heart bowing his head, "Hannon le, muindyr nin!" They both simply smiled and the three continued along the Road together.

***

Arwen slipped through the mists of sleep and found herself on a hilltop near Edoras weeping yet again, sitting there sobbing after her father's departure. Boundless sorrow filled her, creating within a rip in her soul's vibrant fabric; the ends fraying. She tried to knit them together but each strand she touched disintegrated into nothing, leaving a cloying blackness in its place. She cried out, "Ada! Aragorn! Don't leave me!" But both looked at her sorrowfully and turn their backs and striding into the shadow. It was only when a hand touched her shoulder and she opened her eyes and she saw Galadriel bending over her, wiping her brow that she realised she had shouted the words aloud, reliving the dream she had had every night since Aragorn had left. She looked at her beloved Einnaneth and shame along with tears came to her eyes. Galadriel hugged her and dried her eyes. Finally, as Galadriel rocked her gently, softly singing, Arwen found sleep again, this time a dreamless one.

***

A few days later…

Frodo sat by the kitchen table smoking on his pipe and listening the conversation around him. He thought that they would all do well to leave off their talking and decide if any course of action was possible, because all this talking was getting them exactly nowhere. It was understandable that they were concerned about Arwen, but no amount of talking was going to change the fact that Arwen was wasting away and rebuffed all attempts to ease her out of her sorrows. She had not eaten in days and had spoken very little since Faramir informed her that Aragorn had gone. Her nights had been disturbed; she laid tossing and turning seemingly in the thrall of dreams that would not allow her to rest.

Frodo knew something of what she suffered. Perhaps of all that now inhabited Bag End he knew especially what it was like to feel as if a part of you is missing. A part that you fear you will never get back. Others tried to be helpful. They tried to be compassionate but there was no way they could ever understand. He himself felt that something inside him had died and that there was no hope of it ever growing again.

He got up and tapped his pipe, felt Sam's eyes upon him, as they quite often were these days. He thought, "Sam, dear Sam. I wish you could quit worrying about me. I must find my own way through this." He left the room and went down the hall feeling rather than seeing his dear friend follow him with his eyes. He stopped in front of the second bedroom that was Aragorn and Arwen's for the duration of their stay. He gently knocked and heard a rustle of skirts in answer to his gentle inquiry. He turned the doorknob and pushed tentatively. Inside Arwen stood at the round window, hugging herself and staring sightlessly at the row of trees across the path. He came behind Arwen, "How are you, My Lady?" He did not receive a reply but he had not really expected one. He stepped along side the Elven Queen of Gondor and said, "It's all right, you know. To feel as you do. It is so hard to be happy. To feel happiness when so much has gone before. The others don't understand, but I do."

Arwen turned to him and looked silently at Frodo. He beheld eyes that revealed a soul tearing itself apart. One part seemed to say, "Give in, the pain is unendurable and you have only hurt those you love with your actions. Best to give up now and allow them the chance to learn to live without you." The other part seemed to urging, "Fight this! Stay with us, learn to live with what you've chosen and you will again discover how to find joy in all things." Frodo stared into her troubled bluish-violet eyes and saw a reflection of his own sorrows. Suffering and resignation and a certain incredulity lay in Arwen's gaze, "Choose to accept what you have done or not, but remember Aragorn would be lost without you." said the hobbit for whom wisdom had been and still was a harsh teacher.

At this Arwen breathed a heavy sigh, breaking Frodo's concerned gaze, "I would be lost without him, and yet I have treated him so callously! I have spurned his attempts comfort me, thinking myself so much wiser than he. And now he has gone to my father and find only hurt and more anguish." She blinked with unseeing eyes. "My father has forsaken me for what I have done. He will find no welcome…" She concluded in a sad, far away voice. She turned her eyes back to Frodo and he was startled to see how bewildered and lost she looked. It seemed like she was seeing a sight reserved only for her eyes. It frightened him.

He sat her down upon the bed and then firmly said, "My lady! You have so much to live for. Think of your child! He will need you. And you are surrounded by those who love you. You should accept help and kindness when it's offered." Arwen blinked slowly at him and her eyes seemed to begin seeing again. She gave him a sad little smile, which seemed to say "thank you" and at length she kissed him on the forehead. "You counsel well," she paused and then continued, "You should heed your own advice, my dear friend."

Frodo immediately looked down and away saying ruefully, "Isn't it funny, that advice which you can give so clearly for a friend is advice that you can never seem to take yourself." He sighed and looked up. Arwen sat there smiling, grief etched in her face and a sorrow in her eyes that he found painful to behold, "Dear Frodo. Shall we venture forth together to both share in the advice that you have given?" She said in a voice that signaled a resignation to begin again the battle against the soft, enveloping shadow that almost succeeded in silently slipping over her.

"Yes, My lady. I think we should."

Sam was the first to see them enter into the kitchen. "Mr. Frodo! My Lady! Are you well?"

Frodo stifled a sigh and said, "Of course, Sam. There is no need to fret yourself. My Lady and I were just talking that is all."

Faramir, who had been wracked with guilt for causing Arwen this much torment, came forward immediately to assist his Queen into a chair. Arwen also stifled a sigh, "My Lord Steward, I am not made of porcelain, I will not break," At least not yet anyway, Arwen sighed.

Faramir dropped to a knee and looking somewhat abashed, said "Of course, my Lady! I did not mean to imply by my actions that…" His voice trailed off. He saw that the pale cast of her skin was becoming increasingly transparent. It horrified him.

Arwen smiled at the kneeling man and put a hand gently on one shoulder, "Forgive me, Faramir. I know that you did not."

Rosie had been listening to these two exchanges very carefully, protective as a mother hen over the brood that had come to nestle in her house over the past week. She thought over the motley collection of Elves, and Hobbits and Men that had taken up residence in Bag End and pondered the bonds of friendship, love and loyalty that bound them and she only hoped that it continued to keep them all together as her eye fell on Arwen and then Frodo and Sam.

***

Two weeks later…

The Lord of Rivendell sat in his study, thoughtful. He had been so ever since the servant had told him where his sons had gone. At first he could not believe that they had openly defied him and his anger raged vowing to never allow them passage into Rivendell, again. Let them live in Lorien if they find Galadriel's presence that much more pleasing than mine, he had thought. That anger had now gone and he was wondering how he had come to this pass. He had lost his daughter and now he felt as if he were on the verge of losing his sons as well if only in spirit. He felt old. He had never felt quite so old as he did now. The world was passing him by and he no longer understood anything. He had given so much and had had even more taken away from him. He wanted to talk to Arwen, he wanted so much to reach out to her, but he didn't know how to anymore. She was close, he felt it. Even if Galadriel had not informed him about her presence in the Shire he still would have felt it. Her light was still shining, though dimmer than it had ever been. This deeply troubled him.

A page knocked on the door of his study, "Did not I request that I not be disturbed, can you not follow the simplest of instructions!" he bellowed, his head bowed looking down at his parchment.

"You always said I had trouble in that regard." said a quiet voice that stilled Elrond's very soul. He looked up slowly from the parchment he had been trying to study and saw his erstwhile foster son, in travel-stained clothes and muddy boots, on one knee, head bowed. Estel. A jumble of conflicting emotions and images ran through Elrond. A flash of fond remembrance, of a dark-haired ten year-old at his knee in the his herbarium, the love of a five year old running to hug his Adar coming home from a journey, betrayal, pride of a fifteen year old receiving his first sword specially inscribed, disappointment when a ten-year old failed to heed wise words and subsequently having a broken arm set, anger and hope, these all warred for supremacy within the Elven Lord's breast. He finally settled upon that which had served him, if not well, then at least functionally over the last few years. Cold formality.

"Rise, Elessar, you need never bow to me. It is not appropriate." Elrond saw a rod of steel go through Aragorn's back as he rose from the obsequence he had made to his foster-father, the only father he had ever truly known. Although he bore the patronymic, he had never known Arathorn, who had died when Aragorn was only two. Elrond raised him, loved him even, here in Imladris.

"Forgive the inappropriateness of such an action, I did not mean to cause offence." Grey eyes full of restrained emotion looked upon Elrond's own pale blue ones as a tightly controlled voice spoke the words.

You've taken my daughter, is that not offence enough! And now her light grows dim! came the thought unbidden into Elrond's mind. He blinked and drew breath, desperately trying to calm his raging emotions, "What would you have with me? Is there some issue that needs my attention." he said politely if a bit cynically.

Aragorn caught the cynicism and inwardly winced, his foster father had changed as Elladan had said he had. He steeled himself and said, "Your daughter needs you, sir. Please come and see her."

"Sir? So polite, Elessar. But you are mistaken," Elrond heard himself say, "I have no daughter. I did once, but no more." What am I saying? Why am I saying it. Elrond thought frantically. He glanced at Aragorn who looked like he had just been slapped in the face.

Shocked and stunned, Aragorn was trying desperately to hold on to a composure that was slipping away quicker than he might like to admit. He had expected that this was never going to be an easy task, but he was willing to endure anything if it could bring Arwen back to him fully. Aragorn blinked, desperately trying to think of some argument that could be made that would break through that icy veneer that Elrond had constructed around himself. Arwen's future happiness, her very life depended on it. His thoughts were fracted, jagged with hurt and fear, but he must try.

"Please, sir, she needs you. Whatever you may think of me and what I have done please do not punish your daughter any further than you have. Hate me as you will, but go to your daughter. She loves you and needs you." Aragorn's voice was filled with pain and pleading. Steadily he looked at his foster father awaiting his pronouncement.

"Again I say to you, Elessar." Elrond responded tonelessly, "I have no daughter." He finished to the shock of his own ears. Why can I not reach out!? She needs me.

Aragorn's composure, upon hearing this latest denial, broke utterly. "Damn you, Sir! You condemn your own daughter to death with these words! What do you want from me? I will do anything. Do you want me to beg? I will." At this he walked the few steps to his foster father and dropped to both knees at the arm of Elrond's chair, "I am sorry for loving your daughter and taking her away from you, sir! Only please come to her. Her light grows dimmer all the time, I cannot stop it! Please, Sir! Come to her! I'm begging you." Aragorn bowed his head and sobbed, "Hate me, spend your ire upon me if that is what you will, but do not punish her any more!" The words sounded as if they were ripped from Aragorn's very soul.

Elrond looked at the sobbing, shaking man at his knee and suddenly nothing else seemed important, his reasons for anger, his feelings of betrayal mattered little when presented with such abject suffering from such a proud man as he knew Aragorn to be. He felt the icy bands which had constricted his heart for too long melt away in his desire to comfort his foster son and give him what he wanted.

Aragorn knelt there sobbing for what seemed an eternity of anguish, hopeless that he had made any impact at all upon the Lord of Rivendell, his foster father, when he felt a hand upon his shoulder. Aragorn stiffened and a small ember of hope re-kindled itself in his heart. "Estel," came a voice full of regret and uncertainty, "Ion nin. Look at me." Aragorn raised gray eyes so full of supplication and anguish that it broke Elrond's heart anew. At last Elrond said the words that he had long been unable to voice. "I forgive you and Arwen. If you can forgive a father his own foolishness? I will go to her and we will ride within the hour."

Aragorn could hardly hear, for the loud rush of blood within his ears, but he looked upon his foster father, gasping and gulping for breath trying desperately to tame the wild beating of his heart, he could only stare his thanks for his beloved's deliverance. Elrond looked concernedly at his foster son, "Estel, did you hear me? Are you quite well."

Aragorn had at last quelled the beat of his heart and the rush of blood in his ears, "Yes, sir. I am now. Hannon le!" Elrond stood and help him off of his knees and watched as Aragorn drew himself up to his full height and then inclined his head with his hand on his heart, "Hannon le! Adar nin! he said, eyes full of emotion.

***********
Hannon le = Thank you

Hir nin = My lord

muindyr nin = my brothers

guren = My heart