Lord Of The Rings Fan Fiction ❯ Days of the King ❯ Plan of Action ( Chapter 12 )
[ 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: 05.16.2008 | Updated On: 12.14.2008 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.3K | Visits: 167 | Status: Work In Progress
Non Anime: Lord Of The Rings Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Mystery / Drama / Adventure | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 05.16.2008 | Updated On: 12.14.2008 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.3K | Visits: 167 | Status: Work In Progress
chapter 12 - a plan of action
All told, there were twenty men Aragorn chose to ride with him on this
exploratory mission. Ten were Rangers, the others were men of the Gondorian
soldiery whom he knew to be notable fighters, and could keep their own
counsel. Provisions were to be obtained quietly and from different sources.
They were to leave in groups of no more than four or five and meet north
and west at Maring stream on the second day. He did not want rumors of
this sortee circulating through the palace and then through the city. Who
knew what eyes were trained on his movements and those of his forces; the
fewer who knew their true objectives,the better.
Aragorn planned to leave in a few days. Enough time for his men to
leave the city in a trickle, mixing with the merchants, tradesmen and
travelers that made up the usual flow of traffic through the city gates.
And time enough to watch Arwen's progess and make additional arrangements
for her security while he was away.
He wished the timing were different. Aragorn was far from satisfied by his
wife's explanation of the nights events, and sickened by the thought that,
though unwitting, he had hurt her so viciously. He had never doubted her
judgement before, but this fertility ritual was uncomfortable from the
outset. It felt wrong, and dark, and strange. If a child had been conceived
that night, so be it. But he would never subject himself or her to such an
unnatural circumstance again; so invasive, so unlike their lives in any
other regard. Absurdly, he was in a situation where the most intimate
areas of their lives were becoming a politcal issue. And his wife's
legitimate concerns of succession were threatening to drive a wedge between
them.
As he returned to their quarters, Braethan snapped a salute to the King.
He was standing before the doors, as was his post. Aragorn suddenly
remembered that the lad had been on duty for over twenty four hours, and
should be exhausted. Sure enough, his wobbly stance and bloodshot eyes
attested to his state. "Get Wenrick to relieve you and then go home,
Braethan. " As Aragorn approached, he asked in a low voice, "Has my Lady
had any visitors since I left?"
"Just the healer Augra, my Lord. She is with her now." Aragorn nodded, and
entered their chambers.
Augra was in the sitting room, in Arwen's chair,as Aragorn entered,
and motioned him to silence as she gestured toward the bedroom. Arwen lay
sleeping, her breathing steady and deep.
Aragorn returned to Augra. She was looking at him with a cool reserve
that was unfamiliar to him.
"How is the Lady Arwen?" he asked in a low voice, so as not to disturb her.
Augra rubbed her hands, and then laced her fingers together.
"She will sleep for a day. I have given her a strong sleeping potion. Only
rest will heal her; rest and time. She was concerned that her recent..."
here Augra paused and cast Aragorn a piercing look "experiences had left
her unable to bear childen. From my examination, she should be whole, but
truthfully, only time will tell."
Her stare never wavered. "I know you, my Lord as King and Ranger. What I
have to say I cannot say to the King, but I can say it to Strider."
Aragorn sighed deeply, and sat back in his chair. He knew when he called
the healer that, though discreet and highly skilled at her work, she was
also notoriously outspoken. He knew that difficult questions would be asked.
"Then this is Strider before you, and she my beloved wife. Speak."
Augra rose to stand behind the chair. "I must ask. Are you the man
responsible for her condition?"
"I do not expect you to fully understand...I barely do", he began. Augra
stood, waiting for the rest of his answer.
"A bit of sorcery my wife performed last night did not go according to her
plan. The spell put me in a state where I was unaware of my actions. I
only discovered what this body had done to her this morning when I woke
as myself. Augra, you know me for 20 years. If I was myself, do you think
I could have done these things to any woman, much less Arwen?!" his anguish
was plain. He ran the fingers of both hands through his hair in a gesture of
frustration.
"As you and the rest of the world seem to know, we have no children. I
have no heir. Arwen grows desperate, for there is a law that can affect
my lordship if no child is forthcoming. Without possibility of succession,
my reign and Isildur's line ends. I submitted to her will in this, hoping
for good news by the next moon. For soon, I will be asked to take a
concubine to produce an heir. And Arwen will leave and live in exile
if I do so."
Aragorn spread his hands in a gesture of hopelessness. "I find that after
a lifetime of effort to regain the throne of Gondor, and dozens
of generations of my bloodline in disgrace for Isildur's failure, I cannot
care more for that than the love of this one woman. May my ancestors and
people forgive me. I cannot abandon Arwen to this fate."
Augra felt honored to so receive the king's confidence in this most
personal of matters, but also relieved and a little embarrassed. She'd had
evil thoughts of him when she viewed Arwen's battered body, but no one
hearing his pain as he spoke of it could doubt his sincerity.
She sat again, and contemplated the visage of the King.
"You know I have a bit of the Sight, my lord. If you will permit me, I will
attempt to find some answers for you. Please - give me your hand."
Aragorn held out one sun-browned and scarred hand. Augra put it between her
own, and closed her eyes. He did the same.
As she concentrated on the sight within, several images flashed in a
dizzying swirl in her mind. A brief vision of Arwen surrounded by a red-
tinged light: the King, rather magnificently naked but with a savage
expression that made him almost unrecognizable; an unfamiliar man with
swarthy skin dressed in blue with many men about him. Gondor, the palace,
even the Lord Faramir appeared briefly.
But the strongest image of all was of an Elvish man, pale and golden, with
butter colored hair. And he radiated sorcery.
Augra's eyes opened. The strength of each vision was usually influenced
by the proximity of the subject. The King and Queen were resident,
so that was not a surprise. The man in blue was looming, but not present.
Faramir was on the palace grounds, for the council had just ended.
She continued to hold Aragorn's hand as if to reassure him. He was looking
at her quizzically but had not wanted to interrupt.
"Strider - tell me of your Elvish friends. Have any visited here in recent
days or weeks?"
All told, there were twenty men Aragorn chose to ride with him on this
exploratory mission. Ten were Rangers, the others were men of the Gondorian
soldiery whom he knew to be notable fighters, and could keep their own
counsel. Provisions were to be obtained quietly and from different sources.
They were to leave in groups of no more than four or five and meet north
and west at Maring stream on the second day. He did not want rumors of
this sortee circulating through the palace and then through the city. Who
knew what eyes were trained on his movements and those of his forces; the
fewer who knew their true objectives,the better.
Aragorn planned to leave in a few days. Enough time for his men to
leave the city in a trickle, mixing with the merchants, tradesmen and
travelers that made up the usual flow of traffic through the city gates.
And time enough to watch Arwen's progess and make additional arrangements
for her security while he was away.
He wished the timing were different. Aragorn was far from satisfied by his
wife's explanation of the nights events, and sickened by the thought that,
though unwitting, he had hurt her so viciously. He had never doubted her
judgement before, but this fertility ritual was uncomfortable from the
outset. It felt wrong, and dark, and strange. If a child had been conceived
that night, so be it. But he would never subject himself or her to such an
unnatural circumstance again; so invasive, so unlike their lives in any
other regard. Absurdly, he was in a situation where the most intimate
areas of their lives were becoming a politcal issue. And his wife's
legitimate concerns of succession were threatening to drive a wedge between
them.
As he returned to their quarters, Braethan snapped a salute to the King.
He was standing before the doors, as was his post. Aragorn suddenly
remembered that the lad had been on duty for over twenty four hours, and
should be exhausted. Sure enough, his wobbly stance and bloodshot eyes
attested to his state. "Get Wenrick to relieve you and then go home,
Braethan. " As Aragorn approached, he asked in a low voice, "Has my Lady
had any visitors since I left?"
"Just the healer Augra, my Lord. She is with her now." Aragorn nodded, and
entered their chambers.
Augra was in the sitting room, in Arwen's chair,as Aragorn entered,
and motioned him to silence as she gestured toward the bedroom. Arwen lay
sleeping, her breathing steady and deep.
Aragorn returned to Augra. She was looking at him with a cool reserve
that was unfamiliar to him.
"How is the Lady Arwen?" he asked in a low voice, so as not to disturb her.
Augra rubbed her hands, and then laced her fingers together.
"She will sleep for a day. I have given her a strong sleeping potion. Only
rest will heal her; rest and time. She was concerned that her recent..."
here Augra paused and cast Aragorn a piercing look "experiences had left
her unable to bear childen. From my examination, she should be whole, but
truthfully, only time will tell."
Her stare never wavered. "I know you, my Lord as King and Ranger. What I
have to say I cannot say to the King, but I can say it to Strider."
Aragorn sighed deeply, and sat back in his chair. He knew when he called
the healer that, though discreet and highly skilled at her work, she was
also notoriously outspoken. He knew that difficult questions would be asked.
"Then this is Strider before you, and she my beloved wife. Speak."
Augra rose to stand behind the chair. "I must ask. Are you the man
responsible for her condition?"
"I do not expect you to fully understand...I barely do", he began. Augra
stood, waiting for the rest of his answer.
"A bit of sorcery my wife performed last night did not go according to her
plan. The spell put me in a state where I was unaware of my actions. I
only discovered what this body had done to her this morning when I woke
as myself. Augra, you know me for 20 years. If I was myself, do you think
I could have done these things to any woman, much less Arwen?!" his anguish
was plain. He ran the fingers of both hands through his hair in a gesture of
frustration.
"As you and the rest of the world seem to know, we have no children. I
have no heir. Arwen grows desperate, for there is a law that can affect
my lordship if no child is forthcoming. Without possibility of succession,
my reign and Isildur's line ends. I submitted to her will in this, hoping
for good news by the next moon. For soon, I will be asked to take a
concubine to produce an heir. And Arwen will leave and live in exile
if I do so."
Aragorn spread his hands in a gesture of hopelessness. "I find that after
a lifetime of effort to regain the throne of Gondor, and dozens
of generations of my bloodline in disgrace for Isildur's failure, I cannot
care more for that than the love of this one woman. May my ancestors and
people forgive me. I cannot abandon Arwen to this fate."
Augra felt honored to so receive the king's confidence in this most
personal of matters, but also relieved and a little embarrassed. She'd had
evil thoughts of him when she viewed Arwen's battered body, but no one
hearing his pain as he spoke of it could doubt his sincerity.
She sat again, and contemplated the visage of the King.
"You know I have a bit of the Sight, my lord. If you will permit me, I will
attempt to find some answers for you. Please - give me your hand."
Aragorn held out one sun-browned and scarred hand. Augra put it between her
own, and closed her eyes. He did the same.
As she concentrated on the sight within, several images flashed in a
dizzying swirl in her mind. A brief vision of Arwen surrounded by a red-
tinged light: the King, rather magnificently naked but with a savage
expression that made him almost unrecognizable; an unfamiliar man with
swarthy skin dressed in blue with many men about him. Gondor, the palace,
even the Lord Faramir appeared briefly.
But the strongest image of all was of an Elvish man, pale and golden, with
butter colored hair. And he radiated sorcery.
Augra's eyes opened. The strength of each vision was usually influenced
by the proximity of the subject. The King and Queen were resident,
so that was not a surprise. The man in blue was looming, but not present.
Faramir was on the palace grounds, for the council had just ended.
She continued to hold Aragorn's hand as if to reassure him. He was looking
at her quizzically but had not wanted to interrupt.
"Strider - tell me of your Elvish friends. Have any visited here in recent
days or weeks?"