Lord Of The Rings Fan Fiction ❯ Days of the King ❯ "Gondorian law 117, chapter 3, article 4" ( Chapter 4 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Queen-of-Blades138 
Non Anime: Lord Of The Rings Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Mystery / Drama / Adventure | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 04.09.2008 | Pages: 5 | Words: 2.9K | Visits: 232 | Status: Work In Progress
Non Anime: Lord Of The Rings Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Mystery / Drama / Adventure | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 04.09.2008 | Pages: 5 | Words: 2.9K | Visits: 232 | Status: Work In Progress
A/N:Heh..Hehh...sorry forgot to put the disclaimer up so here it is.
Disclaimer:...Yes! I own LOTR!Hah...Yea...Yup..Right when pigs fly..
*Pig flys over head*....O..Wow..I do own it!!!*Lawyers come out
with guns and kills pig*.......Well,it was good when it lasted..
BUT I DO own some of the characters.(Augra,Breathan and other
people whom I wil name later)
SO enough of my talking and on with the story!
chapter 4-lemons in this chapter,YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED..
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Aragorn was reeling from the revelation of Arwen's condition, but
this was not the moment to review the events of last night.
He carried her down the stairs from the guard tower room, and
entered their chambers. He lay her gently upon their bed, and used
the bell pull to summon a maid.
By her arrival, Aragorn had changed into his gray townsman clothes,
and used the cold water from the basin and ewer to wipe away all
traces of the runes drawn upon him.
He met the servant by the outer chamber door.
"I want two ewers of hot water, and a bottle of athelas tincture
from the medical stores. And sent for Augra, the old healer from
the lower city. Be discreet. Also, bread, cheese and fruit.
And some of that new wine. Now."
She curtsied, and set off on her errand at a run.
When Aragorn re-entered their bedroom, Arwen was not prone, but
seated on their bed, the fur clutched around her shoulders,facing
the window.
She heard rather than saw him; her back was resolutely to the door.
"Please sit, my husband. I will tell you all, and then you can
judge for yourself if my sorceries were for good or ill..."
Aragorn did as he was bid.
She took a deep shuddering breath.
"It is in the minds of your closest advisors to recommend invoking
Gondorian law 117, chapter 3, article 4."
Aragorn's brow creased. "I will admit I am not sufficiently versed
in Gondorian law to know without research what this covers."
Her back straightened. "You will be advised to take a concubine to
provide an heir."
Aragorn sprang from his chair, rounding the bed, and knelt
before Arwen. He laid a hand softly upon her knee.
"Who has said this?" His voice was low, but the rage could not be
concealed.
Her eyes had been closed. She opened them and fixed him with a
stare of blue-grey stone. "As many have grumbled, your 'foreign'
wife has many talents unusual in the world of Men, but common
among my folk." She barked a short, humorless laugh."They speak in
low tones, but MY ears hear much that others would miss. And their
minds are...noisy. Their resentment of me brings these thoughts to
the forefront, and for those with the gift, it is as reading the
pages of a book."
"Many of the other kings of Westerness consigned themselves and
their folk to oblivion by neglecting to have children! They were
more concerned with their ancestors than their decendants, and all
were related to you, my Lord. Your people fear that although you
have restored the honor and kingship of Isildur's line, you show
disturbing signs of neglecting to insure that your line will
continue!"
Aragorn placed his hands upon her arms, rubbing them lightly.
"I...had not thought the situation so acute...".
Her eyes closed briefly, then snapped open again, as if
marshalling strength for what she needed to say next.
"As if this needed to be said, here I say it,so that we may
understand one another. I cannot live with a concubine in our
lives, in your bed. I have no idea where I will go, but go I
will."
"When I decided that the ritual was necessary, it was not at a
whim, no childish woman's fancy. I would not have you choose
between your kingdom and your wife, Aragorn."
He sat on the bed next to her,putting his arm around her
shoulders. "It will not come to pass. If necessary, I will...
adopt an heir perhaps, a child with a bloodline that will be
acceptable to the peers of the realm. I DO have an obligation
to them,and
all those I rule," he lifted her face to his and kissed her
deeply. When she sought to break away, he held her firmly but
gently. He kissed her until she returned his ardor, but finally
she sobbed, pressing her face into chest.
"But I will have no other woman, Arwen, no matter what the
consequences. I am King, but I am also a man, and that man loved
you before the throne was even within reach. I will keep both, but
on these terms: you are wife and queen, and our bed is inviolate.
Be content,my beloved."
She spoke into his bosom, laying her hand over his heart.
"I hope that the gods have seen fit to grant us our own child. I
still do not want you at odds with all your people for my sake."
And so they sat, Aragorn silently encouraged by her closeness.
This respite was broken by a knock at the door.
"My Lord, I have brought the items you requested."
He closed the door to the bedroom before he opened the hall door.
Aragorn knew the castle was a hotbed of rumor and gossip, and
would not allow Arwen's condition to become grist for that mill.
The maid had brought help, a lad from among the household staff
to help to carry the hot water. Her tray was laden with the requested
food items. She placed a small bottle of athelas tincture and the
bottle of wine on the sitting room table.
"Will that be all, my Lord?" she asked.
"Let no one disturb my Lady today. Make my will known to all the
staff."
With a curtsey, she left, closing the door behind her.
He had almost forgotten the athelas. He poured a cup of wine for
Arwen, and put in a few drops of the medicinal herb. He mumbled
the old saying to himself -'The hands of the King are the hands
of a
healer.'He hoped he could heal these hurts. They cut deeply into
the one most dear to him.
He brought the wine to Arwen, who accepted it from him with a
hesitant smile. Aragorn then brought basin and washcloth, and the
athelas tincture. He was determined to examine her, ascertain the
extent of her injuries with the experience of soldier's medicine,
and to get a good, round answer to his bizarre and disturbing
evening.
Arwen still sat on the bed, lost in her own thoughts.
Aragorn poured a goodly splash of athelas into the warm water, and
wet the soft cloth with the solution. He pressed it to her forehead,
the soothing scent and healing qualities of the herb should quicken
her recovery and help to remove all traces of those damned runes.
She closed her eyes at first, willing to let herself be attended to.
"Remove your robe, Arwen, and lay upon the bed. I wish to see you
in good light".
Arwen moved her arm across her body, vaguely clutching at the fur
covering her. "I would prefer to tend to my own toilet, my Lord."
Her small laughed was forced. "I can let my handmaidens bathe
me..."
"I want to see all of you, my wife. I want to use my hands to wipe
away these markings upon you, and assess your wounds. As I do so,
I want you to tell me exactly what we did last night. Especially,
what I did to you."
His tone was soft, but he left no doubt that he would have his
answers now.
She acquiesed, and lay upon the bed, letting fur and silken robe
fall open. Aragorn passed the warm, wet cloth along her face and
neck, her shoulders, arms and breasts. There was scarcely a hands
breath of her body without some bruising.
Aragorn said nothing.
She began to speak in a low, almost whispering tone.
"The male and female principles are universal in all things.
Our conception ritual believes that our powers of generation are
greatly enhanced if we call upon these spirits when we want to
conceive. The race of Men have distorted versions of these
spirits. They call upon the female principle to make crops grow,
and women concieve. The male principle is usually called upon to
make war, to do battle, to achieve victory in arms. We Elves
believe that the power to create life comes from both principles
...female cannot conceive without male, can she?"
"Lay on your side, Arwen."
She complied, with a small groan of discomfort. A large, livid
bruise on her side might indicate a broken rib.
"Please go on."
She was silent for some moments.
"Usually, a third person, an elder, will paint the runes on
both the man and the woman,and speak the incantation. Both will be
inhabitated by their appropriate spirits. They...recognize each
other, and although by all reports their lovemaking is full of
wild abandon, neither really hurts the other."
Again she was silent. Aragorn bathed her slowly,letting
the warm water and his hands soothe her, and assure her of his
love and patience.
"I was desperate to try something to conceive. I...altered the
ritual. I could not let us both succumb to these primal spirits.
I had to try and...control the spell. That is usually the function
of the elder, to make sure that both spirits enter and leave the
hosts' bodies at the same time. I thought I could control
Koutulas. It is our personification of the male. His mate is
Salicene. Their
lovemaking is supposed to be the genesis of all life. The cycle
of their love is the cycle of the seasons. I thought I knew about
the balance of these principles. But I forgot...the power of what
I called. Koutulas came. But when it saw I was
not Salicene, he had no opposite force. She is not a woman, she is
the other side of him."
Here, her voice rose, sounding brittle and unnaturally light.
"Koutulas gave me what I wanted, I suppose. I wanted more of...you
at this time of the full moon when I am most fertile. But he
is also the principle of war, battle and conflict. Without
Salicene, he is the cruel and unyielding side of male character."
Her voice lowered to a whisper.
"He made me pay for summoning him. For the arrogance to think I
could control him."
Aragorn continued his minstrations while she was speaking,and did
not interrupt. He was angry at these revelations, but did not know
at whom. For several long moments he said nothing.
Aragorn could not contain himself any longer.
"You are a woman wedded almost 10 years. There is blood on your
thighs and on your sex. Are you whole, Arwen?"
"I do not know. Last night, I could not yield enough to satisy his
cruelty. And his lust." she said, in a small voice.
Aragorn busied himself with removing the now damp clothing from
beneath Arwen. Her ribs were just bruised, not broken, and with
rest would mend on their own without binding. He selected a warm
gown of a green velvet. She had worn this...was it only yesterday
morning? He helped her into it and covered her with warm bedding.
"I have to ask, although I am sure I know the answer. You speak of
'the male principle' and 'Koutulas' but the body of him who hurt
you so - it is me. Is it not?"
Almost imperceptably, she nodded.
"I did not know it would be as it was. It was my fault. My
desperation, my arrogance, my ignorance. In no part of this are
you to blame. Please forgive me".
Aragorn sat on the bed, stroking her hair away from her face. She
was pale under the runes and mask of paint that he had washed
away. Her hands were cold and he kissed them and held them to his
heart.
"Please forgive me, Arwen. I had not seen your pain in it's true
light. I had no idea you would be driven to such dangerous
methods. As neither of us have children,it could be ME that has
failed to give YOU a child. It is OUR problem to solve, dear one,
not yours alone. Do not trouble yourself with this now. Sleep.
I have sent for Augra, the healer in the lower city. She is
learned, discreet,and largely unknown to most at court. I want
her to look at you, and let her treat you if she deems it
necessary. I will station our stouthearted Braethan to admit
only the healer today".
"I will rest, my love. You should also, but I know you will not.
Gimli needs your council, and he needs you to ride with him to
see some puzzling signs and tracks with your Ranger's eyes."
Aragorn frowned.
"I will see him today, but I will not leave the palace. I need to
see you healed before I leave. I need to see you content before I
leave the city."
Arwen sat up, wincing slightly. She held out her arms to him. He
knelt by the bed a put his head upon her bosom. Arwen held his
head and kissed his brow, his eyes and finally his mouth.
"You have obligations; I will not keep you from
them. Especially not with my weakness. Please, go. I will eat
and sleep and see your healer. I will be much better tomorrow.
Go! Soon Gimli will come seeking you here."
"I will meet with him, but I will be back to see you by noon.
And do not fret! I will pray with you that the next moon will
bring good tidings!"
He kissed her hands, and left to find Gimli.
Aragorn had been gone some few minutes before Arwen gingerly left
their bed. She made sure the outer doors of the chambers were
securely locked.
Back in the bedroom, she stood still and quiet for a moment in the
center of the room, as if listening for some faint sound.
"I know you are here, Legolas!", she fairly spat in a soft,
whispering hiss. "Show yourself!"
A nearly transparent bluish fog appeared in the room, and
coalesced in a slim column. In seconds it took on definite
features, and in less than half a minute it was a smiling Elvish
youth with waist length hair and an inappropriately mischevious
smile.
"Well done, cousin! How did you know?"
Disclaimer:...Yes! I own LOTR!Hah...Yea...Yup..Right when pigs fly..
*Pig flys over head*....O..Wow..I do own it!!!*Lawyers come out
with guns and kills pig*.......Well,it was good when it lasted..
BUT I DO own some of the characters.(Augra,Breathan and other
people whom I wil name later)
SO enough of my talking and on with the story!
chapter 4-lemons in this chapter,YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED..
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Aragorn was reeling from the revelation of Arwen's condition, but
this was not the moment to review the events of last night.
He carried her down the stairs from the guard tower room, and
entered their chambers. He lay her gently upon their bed, and used
the bell pull to summon a maid.
By her arrival, Aragorn had changed into his gray townsman clothes,
and used the cold water from the basin and ewer to wipe away all
traces of the runes drawn upon him.
He met the servant by the outer chamber door.
"I want two ewers of hot water, and a bottle of athelas tincture
from the medical stores. And sent for Augra, the old healer from
the lower city. Be discreet. Also, bread, cheese and fruit.
And some of that new wine. Now."
She curtsied, and set off on her errand at a run.
When Aragorn re-entered their bedroom, Arwen was not prone, but
seated on their bed, the fur clutched around her shoulders,facing
the window.
She heard rather than saw him; her back was resolutely to the door.
"Please sit, my husband. I will tell you all, and then you can
judge for yourself if my sorceries were for good or ill..."
Aragorn did as he was bid.
She took a deep shuddering breath.
"It is in the minds of your closest advisors to recommend invoking
Gondorian law 117, chapter 3, article 4."
Aragorn's brow creased. "I will admit I am not sufficiently versed
in Gondorian law to know without research what this covers."
Her back straightened. "You will be advised to take a concubine to
provide an heir."
Aragorn sprang from his chair, rounding the bed, and knelt
before Arwen. He laid a hand softly upon her knee.
"Who has said this?" His voice was low, but the rage could not be
concealed.
Her eyes had been closed. She opened them and fixed him with a
stare of blue-grey stone. "As many have grumbled, your 'foreign'
wife has many talents unusual in the world of Men, but common
among my folk." She barked a short, humorless laugh."They speak in
low tones, but MY ears hear much that others would miss. And their
minds are...noisy. Their resentment of me brings these thoughts to
the forefront, and for those with the gift, it is as reading the
pages of a book."
"Many of the other kings of Westerness consigned themselves and
their folk to oblivion by neglecting to have children! They were
more concerned with their ancestors than their decendants, and all
were related to you, my Lord. Your people fear that although you
have restored the honor and kingship of Isildur's line, you show
disturbing signs of neglecting to insure that your line will
continue!"
Aragorn placed his hands upon her arms, rubbing them lightly.
"I...had not thought the situation so acute...".
Her eyes closed briefly, then snapped open again, as if
marshalling strength for what she needed to say next.
"As if this needed to be said, here I say it,so that we may
understand one another. I cannot live with a concubine in our
lives, in your bed. I have no idea where I will go, but go I
will."
"When I decided that the ritual was necessary, it was not at a
whim, no childish woman's fancy. I would not have you choose
between your kingdom and your wife, Aragorn."
He sat on the bed next to her,putting his arm around her
shoulders. "It will not come to pass. If necessary, I will...
adopt an heir perhaps, a child with a bloodline that will be
acceptable to the peers of the realm. I DO have an obligation
to them,and
all those I rule," he lifted her face to his and kissed her
deeply. When she sought to break away, he held her firmly but
gently. He kissed her until she returned his ardor, but finally
she sobbed, pressing her face into chest.
"But I will have no other woman, Arwen, no matter what the
consequences. I am King, but I am also a man, and that man loved
you before the throne was even within reach. I will keep both, but
on these terms: you are wife and queen, and our bed is inviolate.
Be content,my beloved."
She spoke into his bosom, laying her hand over his heart.
"I hope that the gods have seen fit to grant us our own child. I
still do not want you at odds with all your people for my sake."
And so they sat, Aragorn silently encouraged by her closeness.
This respite was broken by a knock at the door.
"My Lord, I have brought the items you requested."
He closed the door to the bedroom before he opened the hall door.
Aragorn knew the castle was a hotbed of rumor and gossip, and
would not allow Arwen's condition to become grist for that mill.
The maid had brought help, a lad from among the household staff
to help to carry the hot water. Her tray was laden with the requested
food items. She placed a small bottle of athelas tincture and the
bottle of wine on the sitting room table.
"Will that be all, my Lord?" she asked.
"Let no one disturb my Lady today. Make my will known to all the
staff."
With a curtsey, she left, closing the door behind her.
He had almost forgotten the athelas. He poured a cup of wine for
Arwen, and put in a few drops of the medicinal herb. He mumbled
the old saying to himself -'The hands of the King are the hands
of a
healer.'He hoped he could heal these hurts. They cut deeply into
the one most dear to him.
He brought the wine to Arwen, who accepted it from him with a
hesitant smile. Aragorn then brought basin and washcloth, and the
athelas tincture. He was determined to examine her, ascertain the
extent of her injuries with the experience of soldier's medicine,
and to get a good, round answer to his bizarre and disturbing
evening.
Arwen still sat on the bed, lost in her own thoughts.
Aragorn poured a goodly splash of athelas into the warm water, and
wet the soft cloth with the solution. He pressed it to her forehead,
the soothing scent and healing qualities of the herb should quicken
her recovery and help to remove all traces of those damned runes.
She closed her eyes at first, willing to let herself be attended to.
"Remove your robe, Arwen, and lay upon the bed. I wish to see you
in good light".
Arwen moved her arm across her body, vaguely clutching at the fur
covering her. "I would prefer to tend to my own toilet, my Lord."
Her small laughed was forced. "I can let my handmaidens bathe
me..."
"I want to see all of you, my wife. I want to use my hands to wipe
away these markings upon you, and assess your wounds. As I do so,
I want you to tell me exactly what we did last night. Especially,
what I did to you."
His tone was soft, but he left no doubt that he would have his
answers now.
She acquiesed, and lay upon the bed, letting fur and silken robe
fall open. Aragorn passed the warm, wet cloth along her face and
neck, her shoulders, arms and breasts. There was scarcely a hands
breath of her body without some bruising.
Aragorn said nothing.
She began to speak in a low, almost whispering tone.
"The male and female principles are universal in all things.
Our conception ritual believes that our powers of generation are
greatly enhanced if we call upon these spirits when we want to
conceive. The race of Men have distorted versions of these
spirits. They call upon the female principle to make crops grow,
and women concieve. The male principle is usually called upon to
make war, to do battle, to achieve victory in arms. We Elves
believe that the power to create life comes from both principles
...female cannot conceive without male, can she?"
"Lay on your side, Arwen."
She complied, with a small groan of discomfort. A large, livid
bruise on her side might indicate a broken rib.
"Please go on."
She was silent for some moments.
"Usually, a third person, an elder, will paint the runes on
both the man and the woman,and speak the incantation. Both will be
inhabitated by their appropriate spirits. They...recognize each
other, and although by all reports their lovemaking is full of
wild abandon, neither really hurts the other."
Again she was silent. Aragorn bathed her slowly,letting
the warm water and his hands soothe her, and assure her of his
love and patience.
"I was desperate to try something to conceive. I...altered the
ritual. I could not let us both succumb to these primal spirits.
I had to try and...control the spell. That is usually the function
of the elder, to make sure that both spirits enter and leave the
hosts' bodies at the same time. I thought I could control
Koutulas. It is our personification of the male. His mate is
Salicene. Their
lovemaking is supposed to be the genesis of all life. The cycle
of their love is the cycle of the seasons. I thought I knew about
the balance of these principles. But I forgot...the power of what
I called. Koutulas came. But when it saw I was
not Salicene, he had no opposite force. She is not a woman, she is
the other side of him."
Here, her voice rose, sounding brittle and unnaturally light.
"Koutulas gave me what I wanted, I suppose. I wanted more of...you
at this time of the full moon when I am most fertile. But he
is also the principle of war, battle and conflict. Without
Salicene, he is the cruel and unyielding side of male character."
Her voice lowered to a whisper.
"He made me pay for summoning him. For the arrogance to think I
could control him."
Aragorn continued his minstrations while she was speaking,and did
not interrupt. He was angry at these revelations, but did not know
at whom. For several long moments he said nothing.
Aragorn could not contain himself any longer.
"You are a woman wedded almost 10 years. There is blood on your
thighs and on your sex. Are you whole, Arwen?"
"I do not know. Last night, I could not yield enough to satisy his
cruelty. And his lust." she said, in a small voice.
Aragorn busied himself with removing the now damp clothing from
beneath Arwen. Her ribs were just bruised, not broken, and with
rest would mend on their own without binding. He selected a warm
gown of a green velvet. She had worn this...was it only yesterday
morning? He helped her into it and covered her with warm bedding.
"I have to ask, although I am sure I know the answer. You speak of
'the male principle' and 'Koutulas' but the body of him who hurt
you so - it is me. Is it not?"
Almost imperceptably, she nodded.
"I did not know it would be as it was. It was my fault. My
desperation, my arrogance, my ignorance. In no part of this are
you to blame. Please forgive me".
Aragorn sat on the bed, stroking her hair away from her face. She
was pale under the runes and mask of paint that he had washed
away. Her hands were cold and he kissed them and held them to his
heart.
"Please forgive me, Arwen. I had not seen your pain in it's true
light. I had no idea you would be driven to such dangerous
methods. As neither of us have children,it could be ME that has
failed to give YOU a child. It is OUR problem to solve, dear one,
not yours alone. Do not trouble yourself with this now. Sleep.
I have sent for Augra, the healer in the lower city. She is
learned, discreet,and largely unknown to most at court. I want
her to look at you, and let her treat you if she deems it
necessary. I will station our stouthearted Braethan to admit
only the healer today".
"I will rest, my love. You should also, but I know you will not.
Gimli needs your council, and he needs you to ride with him to
see some puzzling signs and tracks with your Ranger's eyes."
Aragorn frowned.
"I will see him today, but I will not leave the palace. I need to
see you healed before I leave. I need to see you content before I
leave the city."
Arwen sat up, wincing slightly. She held out her arms to him. He
knelt by the bed a put his head upon her bosom. Arwen held his
head and kissed his brow, his eyes and finally his mouth.
"You have obligations; I will not keep you from
them. Especially not with my weakness. Please, go. I will eat
and sleep and see your healer. I will be much better tomorrow.
Go! Soon Gimli will come seeking you here."
"I will meet with him, but I will be back to see you by noon.
And do not fret! I will pray with you that the next moon will
bring good tidings!"
He kissed her hands, and left to find Gimli.
Aragorn had been gone some few minutes before Arwen gingerly left
their bed. She made sure the outer doors of the chambers were
securely locked.
Back in the bedroom, she stood still and quiet for a moment in the
center of the room, as if listening for some faint sound.
"I know you are here, Legolas!", she fairly spat in a soft,
whispering hiss. "Show yourself!"
A nearly transparent bluish fog appeared in the room, and
coalesced in a slim column. In seconds it took on definite
features, and in less than half a minute it was a smiling Elvish
youth with waist length hair and an inappropriately mischevious
smile.
"Well done, cousin! How did you know?"