Chapter 12

 

“I’m sorry, Estel.” Celeborn used Aragorn’s elven name in an attempt to comfort the distraught King. “There was nothing I could do. Nothing any of us could do. It happened so quickly.” Celeborn gazed at his granddaughter’s husband with compassion.

 

Aragorn’s eyes remained closed as Celeborn spoke and the elf could see his grandson struggle to keep control over his emotions. He bowed his head, barely able to keep a sob from escaping his own throat. The elven Lord knew it would be difficult but nothing could prepare him for the anguish and pain etched into the features of this mortal who so loved his granddaughter.

 

“Elladan and Elrohir had just come from telling us you had died.” Celeborn continued, knowing that Aragorn would want to know how it happened – he would want to know everything. “Arwen collapsed and…,” Celeborn took a deep breath, “It was far too quick for anything to be done. And Valar knows I tried – we tried.”

 

Aragorn nodded silently, unable to speak. His heart threatened to pound through his chest and all he wanted to do was pick something up and throw it. He was so very angry, he could barely think straight. He took a deep breath, ignoring the tears that slipped from the corner of his closed eyes. “I shouldn’t have insisted we leave the White City. I should have insisted she stay behind.”

 

“Without you? For months?” Celeborn cocked his head at Aragorn, knowing exactly what his granddaughter’s reaction would have been to this news. “You know she would have insisted on accompanying you.”

 

“It would have prevented-” Aragorn stopped short, choking back a small sob. When he looked up, Celeborn’s heart nearly broke in two. The sadness, pain, shock and guilt evident in Aragorn’s stunned gaze caused the elf’s own eyes to well with tears. Celeborn understood why Faramir had found himself unable remain in the room with such grief. “Can I see her? Does she know? This news will-” Aragorn stopped and swallowed heavily. They’d had many an excited discussion since learning she was going to have a babe. This news, as it was doing to him, would rip out her heart.

 

 “When you can stand on your own, you may see her.”

 

Aragorn snorted in disgust, quite aware that Celeborn had not answered his other question.

 

“You have your own injuries, Aragorn. You need to give them time to heal.”

 

“Then sit down and tell me everything.” Aragorn set his jaw, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Everything.”

 

 

 

 

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When Arwen finally woke, it was to the sound of her own voice – and her own blood-curdling scream that echoed down the halls. The frightening sound drew her brothers to her room with concern etched into their ageless features. Each took a side of the bed and sandwiched her between them, embracing her with a gentle touch and subtle strength.

 

She whimpered as tears dropped from tightly closed eyelids. Her hands cradled her stomach and her heart cried out for that which she’d lost. She could feel that something had been ripped from her but her emotions were too scattered to pinpoint the cause.  “Estel?” She wondered aloud before images and feelings began to coalesce in her memory. “Our baby….!?” The hysteria in her voice sent tremors down her brother’s spines and they both brushed away the tears dripping down pale cheeks. Her body shook as her memory returned, and the feeling of complete helplessness as she remembered the look on her brother’s faces as they told her that her husband was dead.  “Estel! No!”

 

“No, Arwen, he is alive.” Elladan cupped one side of her cheek in his hand, drawing her eyes to his. “Estel is alive.” He implored, trying to make her understand through her grief. “He’s badly injured but…I was wrong. I thought he’d died. His heart stopped but…the Valar…they sent him back to us.”

 

Arwen’s breath caught and hope glinted in her eyes. “Then – my..baby?” Trembling hands cradled her slightly swollen belly as if feeling for the life it once contained.

 

“The little one is lost to you, child,” Celeborn arrived then and glanced sadly at his granddaughter.

 

Elrohir stood and moved out of Celeborn’s way as he took the younger elf’s place and put a mug of medicated tea to Arwen’s lips. “Your body suffered too much strain. It was too much for the babe.”

 

Arwen sobbed, dropping her chin to her chest after taking a sip of tea. She leaned back into the cushions and curled herself into a ball, rejecting any comfort her kin tried to bestow.

 

“Arwen, it is not your-”

 

Her voice was barely audible beneath her sobs. “Finally, after years of waiting, I was going to give him an heir and now-”

 

“His only concern is for your safety, Arwen.” Celeborn’s words were of no comfort as she continued.

 

“What must he think of me? It is so difficult for elven woman to bear children. The people wonder, I hear it and see it, but he shrugs it off as of little importance, when I knew it weighs heavily on his shoulders.” Arwen’s voice held a long concealed sadness and Celeborn closed his eyes, realizing with a jolt of annoyance that there was more to Arwen’s grief than just loosing the baby.

 

“The people love their King and their Queen, Arwen,” Celeborn tried to offer more words of comfort before Arwen talked herself into a depression. “They will wait for a time when you can safely bear your husband a child.”

 

The twins silently made their way toward the door, nodding as Celeborn mouthed instructions to send for Aragorn.

 

Arwen ignored Celeborn’s words and curled tighter into herself, pulling the covers over her body and crying into the pillow before falling into an exhausted and drug induced sleep.

 

 

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“We can’t move either of them. Their injuries are too severe.” Celeborn addressed a representative from Gondor, Imrahil and Faramir, his jaw set and his eyes ablaze.

 

“Healers have arrived from Minis Tirith and they can remain here indefinitely. ” Faramir said firmly. “The King’s governors and advisors will just have to understand ”

 

“When they are well enough to travel, by ship or by land, we will leave, and not a moment sooner.” Celeborn stated, leaving no room for argument. The representative began to wilt beneath the Elven Lord’s stare. “We all want them safely returned to Gondor, Lord Soront, but not at the expense of their health.”

 

The governor set his chin and scowled. “I wish to see the King. To ascertain his injuries for myself.”

 

“He is asleep.” Celeborn said firmly. “And he will not be disturbed.”

 

“Then I will wait until he wakes. There are urgent matters that need to be discussed with him.” Soront stated. He was not used to being put off by an elf, and being put off by one that held no position within Gondor’s hierarchy angered him beyond measure.

 

“I am well aware of those matters, governor,” Faramir stared hard at the man. “And they were taken care of to the best of my ability before I left the White City.”

 

“That may not have been good enough.” The governor growled. “If they grow tired of waiting on unfulfilled promises, they will see Gondor’s inaction as cause for an attack.”

 

Faramir set his chin as Celeborn shot him a questioning look. “They will rue the day they even make the attempt, governor.”

 

“With you here and the King – indisposed - they could make a valiant effort in taking the City or some of the smaller-.”

 

“Which is why I left my second in charge when I left. He has been well briefed and should the need arise, he is prepared to meet any attack upon the City or any of its holdings.”

 

“I hope you are right, Lord Steward.” The governor stared uncertainly at the man. “The King will-”

 

“You may see the King when I so permit, and not a moment sooner.” Faramir nodded to the royal guard standing at the entryway and they quickly stepped beside the governor to escort him out of the room.

 

“You’d better hope war is not declared on Gondor. With the King’s absence, the White City could very well fall.” Were the governor’s last words as he was escorted toward the door.

 

“Not without a very large, experienced army with one very brave and foolish commander at its head.” Faramir muttered with disgust. “Any race bearing Gondor ill will,  with a large enough contingent of men to do the City harm, was destroyed during the War of the Ring.”

 

“You may be surprised, Lord Faramir.” Soront muttered as he glowered at the royal guard.

 

“Governor Soront,” Faramir called and the man turned.

 

“Yes, Lord Faramir?”

 

The Chamberlain stepped through the open door and stared at the governor, seeking to speak with the man when he was finished with the Steward.

 

“Know you something that we do not?”

 

Soront’s glanced at the Chamberlain and shook his head. “No, My Lord. Reports are sketchy, and you have all of the information that I have managed to obtain.”

 

Faramir nodded slowly and waved the Chamberlain to enter. “Thank you, you may go.” He nodded to the guards and they finished their escort.

 

“Yes, My Lord?” The Chamberlain asked Faramir, a confused look in his eyes.

 

“He’s hiding something. Find out what it is.”

 

The Chamberlain’s eyes widened. “Me, My Lord?”

 

“Yes, you.” Faramir sighed. “You would be the least expected to pry for information. I want to know what the Council fears is about to happen. There is something they are not revealing.”

 

The Chamberlain smiled proudly. “I will do my best, Lord Faramir!”

 

“What is going on?” Celeborn turned to Faramir, his brow creased with confusion.

 

 

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The next day, Imrahil and Faramir were returning from a meeting with the Lord of Lossarnach when they noticed the Chamberlain speaking to a few oddly dressed men. They had a foreign aire about them and when the Chamberlain had finished speaking with the men, he waved to his Lord's and trotted over to join them.

 

"Who were those men? They had an- odd- look about them." Faramir asked.

 

"Oh, they are visitors to the City." The Chamberlain answered honestly. "I was returning from seeing councilor Soront back to the White City, thankfully, and these men stopped me to ask why there was such a large contingent of royal guards in the City."

 

"Ah," Faramir nodded and Imrahil scowled.

 

"Well I do hope you told them it was none of their concern." Imrahil said quickly.

 

"Aye, Lord." The Chamberlain nodded with a smile. "I gave them some information on the White City and the marketplace. I believe they plan to set up a trade route with the City."

 

"They wanted a royal audience then?" Faramir asked with a raised eyebrow.

 

"Aye," The Chamberlain grinned. "But I instructed them on the proper protocol for requesting such an audience."

 

Faramir nodded and it was Imrahil who spoke next.

 

"Where were they from?"

 

The Chamberlain shrugged. "They didn't say. Only that they had goods that would be considered rare in Gondor and that the King would be interested in seeing their wares."

 

Imrahil snorted and Faramir laughed. "If we had a piece of mithril for everyone who claimed such things, we'd be very rich men indeed."

 

“What did you learn from Soront?” Faramir asked.

 

“Not much.” The Chamberlain admitted with a sigh. “He seems to think there will be some attacks but is unsure where. He has informants scattered throughout the lands, of that I am certain.”

 

“As all good advisor’s do,” Imrahil nodded and Faramir scowled.

 

“Aye, but when he holds back information that could be vital-” The Chamberlain’s words planted doubt and uncertainty in the minds of the two Lords.

 

“I will have my own guard do a bit of investigating.” Imrahil muttered. “Until the King and Queen have recovered enough to return to the City, our hands here are tied.”