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To Cairistiona and Estelcontar: my most grateful thanks for their ongoing encouragement and support.

And special thanks to Cairistiona for the beta.

Chapter 37: The King of Gondor

   In his time the City was made more fair than it had ever been, even in the days of its first glory; and it was filled with trees and with fountains…

The Steward and the King                                                                The Return of the King

~oo0oo~

Aragorn Elessar Telcontar strode from the Merethrond as fast as he deemed dignified for the High King of the Reunited Kingdom.  The festivities were still in full swing, the band showed no sign of winding down for the evening and many of his guests looked set to dance the night away. But as soon as the King was out of sight of the Great Hall, he began shedding his kingly robes as quickly as his fingers could undo the many clasps and hooks that held them in place.

   It was not that he disliked official feasts. This one had been particularly enjoyable as it happened and rather special at that. Nearly ten years had passed since the downfall of Sauron and the return of the King and the people of Gondor were still extremely grateful to their lord. It was on occasions such as this, the tradition Mettarë celebrations of mid-winter, that his subjects had the opportunity to express their appreciation for the peace and prosperity he had brought. There had been no shortage of people singing his praises and proposing yet another toast to his Majesty’s health and happiness. The King had been moved and touched by the sentiments expressed and rather abashed in truth. He was, after all, a humble man at heart and he considered it no more than his duty to do the very best he could for his people.

    His Queen had already made her excuses and left the celebrations early, taking their son with her. Their twin daughters were only a few months old and she still found the demands of motherhood tiring. Eldarion, on the other hand, a fast growing lad of eight, seemed to have an inexhaustible supply of energy and Aragorn was quite sure his over excited son would be having difficulty sleeping, in spite of the lateness of the hour.

   Yet, Aragorn Elessar’s unusual haste was due to more than just the prospect of spending the remainder of the evening alone with his beloved wife and children, treasured though these most precious moments were. While he had been carrying out his kingly duties in the Merethrond, he had received a message informing him that the two visitors he had been expecting from Rivendell had finally arrived. He had not seen Elladan and Elrohir since Eldarion was a baby and had been overjoyed when they sent word that they were intending to visit Gondor for the Mettarë festivities.  So delighted was he that they were finally here, it had taken all his famed will-power to prevent him leaping from his throne and racing out to greet his guests in person there and then. He realized, of course, that he could not readily abandon the celebrations without it appearing most peculiar, so instead, he immediately issued an invitation for his visitors to join him at the festivities. Unfortunately the feast was by then virtually over and the two brothers had elected to rest from their journey and await the king in his private rooms.

   As soon as he was free of his duties and he deemed it diplomatically acceptable, Aragorn had escaped. He leapt up the stairs to his family’s quarters, three at a time, his unfortunate guards struggling to keep pace with him. He tore off his robes as he went and thrust these and his crown to a waiting footman before bursting into his parlour.

   And as he flung the door open, he was treated to a scene the like of which he had so often yearned for in his long years as a Ranger, but had always feared would never become a reality. Arwen was seated by the fire, glowing in its gentle light and looking as beautiful as he had ever seen her. In her arms, sleeping peacefully, was one of their daughters. The other was cradled, rather more awkwardly Aragorn noticed, in the arms of Elladan who sat beside her, while Elrohir was animatedly telling a spellbound Eldarion some long story about something or another.

   But Aragorn did not have long to savour the moment as immediately upon seeing him, the room was filled with yelps of delight from his foster brothers as they jumped up to greet him.

   “Estel!” they cried in unison as they rushing towards him, Elladan having the good sense to return his niece to her mother first.

   “It is so good to see you. And you look so well,” said Elrohir, as both he and his brother crushed the King in a tight embrace.

   Aragorn had his arms around both of them at once; wallowing in that unchanging, almost tangible love that had so succoured and warmed him from his earliest years.

   “I have missed you,” he said, to no brother in particular. “I have missed you so much.”

   “And we you,” said Elladan, drawing back and kissing him affectionately on the brow. Then he gently took Aragorn’s face between his hands and looked long and searchingly into his eyes. Aragorn met his gaze, trusting him totally. After a few moments Elladan released him and smiled.

   “I see all is well,” he said quietly. Then he laughed, a sound that brought pure joy to Aragorn’s heart: “I must say, Estel, being a king suits you little brother. You really look the part, you know.”

   Aragorn just smiled and hugged them both again. He suddenly felt his grip on his overwhelmed emotions slipping perilously, and, not wishing to shame himself, he quickly deflected attention onto his daughters.

   “Now tell me, my dear brothers, are these not the two most beautiful baby girls you have ever seen?”

    “With our sister as their mother how could they be anything other than beautiful,” said Elrohir. “I can see little likeness to you though, Estel.”

   Aragorn laughed happily. “I expected no less from you, Elrohir. Is it not quite remarkable though that yet another generation of twins has been born into your family? I was shocked and rather concerned, in truth, when Arwen told me she was going to give birth to two babes, but fortunately there were no problems at all.”

   “Estel is a typical Man where child birth is concerned,” chipped in Arwen from the fireside. “When my time came, he was far more fearful than I.”

   “They are adorable,” agreed Elladan. “And we very much approve of your choice of names. I am sure, Estel, that our mother and yours would be honoured.”

   “I am glad you think so,” said Aragorn, “for that was our wish.”

   The twin brothers continued to admire their two nieces, but while they did so, their young nephew grew increasingly impatient for the remainder of Elrohir’s story. To Eldarion, it seemed, the grown-ups intended to talk forever and he soon became restless and began fidgeting in his seat. He knew very well that at any moment his adar would tell him to behave but he could scarcely contain his excitement as he anticipated all the things he was hoping to do with his uncles. He just knew it was all going to be so interesting and such fun. Even as a toddler, his favourite tales had always been those told to him by his father of when he himself was a child and had done all manner of exciting things in the company of his big brothers. Now that these same big brothers had come to visit, Eldarion was desperately hoping to have similar adventures of his own.

   However, much to his annoyance, he was soon bundled off to bed.

   “But, Adar, please, might I not say a little longer?” pleaded Eldarion.

   “No, my son,” said the King sternly. “A good Ranger must learn to obey orders.”

   Eldarion looked for support from his new family, but knew it was hopeless from the start. He had long ago learnt that when your father was the King no one was going to take your side against his.

   Arwen decided to retire for the night as well and took all three of her children to their beds, leaving Aragorn telling Elladan and Elrohir all about his recent successful military campaigns.

   “But we have had peace this year at last,” he was saying. “Eomer has been the staunchest ally and has ever accompanied me into battle, but the continued unrest in the East and South has been a drain on both our realms. He is as relieved as I that these troubles are finally over.”

   “You have not known peace since you were a child,” said Elladan. “I wonder how you will find life with no battles to fight.”

   “No battles?” laughed Aragorn, incredulously. “You should attend some of the meetings of the Council of Gondor, my brother. They have not yet ended in bloodshed, but they still demand all my wits I can assure you.”

   “You have a faithful Steward though, do you not?” asked Elrohir.

   “Oh yes, Faramir is a most excellent Steward and a good friend too,” said Aragorn. “I do not know how I would manage without him. It is a great comfort to me that I can leave Gondor in such capable hands in my absence.”

   “And your realm is clearly thriving, Estel,” said Elladan. “The lands have changed much since our last visit. New homesteads have appeared where once the land was desolate, and the city itself is a sight to behold. I never thought to see it look so fair. Even an Elf could be content to dwell within its stark walls now.”

   “I have Legolas and Gimli to thank for all that,” said Aragorn. “They have both worked tirelessly to transform Minas Tirith into the living city you see today. Arwen has always reassured me that an Elf could find happiness here, but it gladdens my heart to know that you feel the same.”

      But Aragorn was eager for news from the North. He fretted a little that the demands of the South had kept him from his home lands for so long. He had not managed to return to Eriador at all since the War of the Ring and, although messengers were sent regularly between the two kingdoms and, at need, he had the Orthanc Stone, he longed to return to the North in person to check on the welfare of his people for himself. There was still much to do there to ensure the King’s Peace was secure and lasting. And more than anything he wished to see his people released from the hardships they had endured for so long. He had been hampered, partly, by the ongoing troubles beyond Gondor’s borders which demanded much of his attention, and also by the difficulties imposed upon him by his position. He no longer had the liberty to simply throw on his Ranger cloak and quietly disappear for a few months to deal with a situation single-handedly. A large entourage accompanied him now whenever he travelled.

   Elladan, however, assured him that the lives of the people in Arnor were steadily improving. He and Elrohir still rode with the Dúnedain, but their patrols were now far less dangerous and all the Rangers could spend more time tending their homesteads and raising their families.

   “We travelled to Lake Nenuial in the summer, Estel,” continued Elladan. “You would be astounded to see the work being done there. The walls of your new home have been built and already it is possible to see how glorious the restored Annúminas will be. It should all be completed in a few more years and then you will finally be able to take up the full kingship of Arnor, and we hope stay for a long while.”

   “I truly look forward to that time,” said Aragorn a little wistfully. “There are so many good friends in the North whom I miss and not least my dear friends in the Shire. Have you any news from there?”

   “Yes, we have,” said Elrohir. “We not only have news, but letters and an extraordinary assortment of gifts for you as well. There are so many, at one point I was afraid we might need a second pack horse to carry them all. We will retrieve them from our luggage for you later.”

   Aragorn was delighted. He enjoyed his correspondence from the Shire enormously and found that he had become quite hooked on the doings and happenings of the Four Farthings. Sam, he was not at all surprised to learn, was proving a most capable Mayor and he, as well as Merry and Pippin, wrote to their king often.

   Finally, and with some reticence, he asked for tidings from Rivendell. It still saddened him greatly to think of the Last Homely House without Elrond, and he found it hard to picture the Valley of Imladris without the power of Vilya sustaining it. He had, in truth, been surprised that his brothers had not sailed with their father and often wondered how long they would remain in Middle-earth.

   “I can not pretend it is as it used to be,” said Elrohir, “but neither of us is ready to leave just yet.”

   “For one thing we need to keep an eye on you to see that you raise this family of yours properly,” said Elladan, grinning at the scowl that immediately appeared on Aragorn’s face. “Tell us of your son, Estel. He looks to be growing into a fine lad.”

   “He is indeed and is a credit to his mother’s care, although swords and horses seem to interest him rather more than his studies.”

   “That is hardly to be wondered at,” smiled Elladan. “He seems very determined that we should take him hunting in the White Mountains. In fact, he reminds me very much of a boy I used to know, over ninety years ago it would be now. He was always pestering us to be taken on hunting trips as I recall.”

   Aragorn smiled fondly at the same memories.

   “He is very like me in that I must confess,” he said. “I too had all the comforts of a safe home, but longed only to be out in the wild having adventures. Of course as soon as I had no choice but to live that way I wished only for a home again, but I can not expect him to appreciate that at his age.”

   Then he grew thoughtful for a moment as he contemplating his son’s request.

  “There are many things I wish Eldarion to learn and not all can be taught in the school room,” he said. “I think he is perhaps old enough to face the rigours of a winter hunting trip.”

   “And when were you proposing to have this trip?” asked Elrohir, purposefully catching Elladan’s eye.

   The look did not go unnoticed by Aragorn.

   “Perhaps sooner than I intended,” he said with a resigned sigh.

   “Good,” said Elladan, “for we can then come too. You have no experience, Estel, of training a young adan, whereas we have tutored seem fifteen future Chieftains of the Dúnedain and know precisely how it should be done.”

   Aragorn was about to protest that he was perfectly capable of teaching his son all he needed to know about woodcraft, but before the words left his lips, he realized he actually relished the prospect of going hunting with his brothers. It would be so good to escape to the mountains for a few days and, he generously conceded, they might just be of some assistance in tutoring Eldarion.

~oo0oo~

   The three sons of Elrond remained chatting by the fireside for many hours, catching up with each other’s news as well as reminiscing about times past. It was the grey hour before the dawn when they finally retired for the night. Aragorn crept quietly into his bedchamber so as not to disturb Arwen or the two babies asleep in the cot beside her. But Arwen was awake and dealing with one restless child.

  “Who is it?” whispered Aragorn, coming quitely to her side.

  “It is Gilraen,” replied his wife. “She has been very wakeful these last couple of nights.”

  “Let me have her.”

  Arwen gladly handed her fractious baby to Aragorn. Within moments of being placed in her father’s arms, little Gilraen was sound asleep. After a few minutes, Aragorn gently laid his daughter back in the cot beside Celebrían and climbed into bed next to his wife.

   “I still marvel at how you do that,” said Arwen, as she nestled against her husband. “It never seems to fail.”

   “Oh, but it does,” smiled Aragorn, as he slid his arms around his wife.   

   “It is such a joy to see Elladan and Elrohir again, is it not?” said Arwen. “You, my dear, have certainly talked the night away. All of you will be good for nothing in the morning.”

   “Hopefully, with tomorrow officially being a day of rest, no one will make any demands of me,” replied Aragorn with a yawn. “I shall, of course, ascend to the Hallow in the morning. Come what may, I must still offer my traditional thanks to Eru, but then I hope we will all enjoy a quiet day together and Eldarion can get to know his uncles. They wish to accompany him on that hunting trip he has been begging me for.”

   “Oh, he will be thrilled by that,” said Arwen, “and the break from your duties will be good for you too.” She then fell silent for a few moments and Aragorn, wondering at her thoughts, was surprised when she asked:  “Estel, do you ever miss your former life?”

   “Whatever makes you ask such a question?”  

   “Well, there must have been times when you enjoyed just being a Ranger; times when the weather was kind and it was pleasant to walk or ride under the Sun. In those days you had the freedom to go wherever you pleased. Being King places such restrictions upon you, and so many people have need of your wisdom and council. You now have so little time for yourself that a hunting trip with Elladan and Elrohir is a rare treat for you.”

  Aragorn considered her words for a moment. It was a long time since he had given any thought at all to his Ranger days. “I do not remember being that free,” he said at last. “I seem to recall my movements were dictated by need most of the time. Of course there were some happy times and I do miss my fellow Rangers. It is also true Middle-earth can be very beautiful and full of wonder for the traveller, but I was often very lonely and faced constant danger and hardship. There are the occasional days, I confess, when it can be a little stifling in this stone city, but the demands of my position are a small sacrifice to make to have you by my side, vanimelda. In all those long years in the wild, I can say with all my heart, I yearned only for the day when we could at least be together.”

   He gently drew her closer to him and he kissed her tenderly. She was so beautiful and, if anything, even more desirable now than on that midsummer’s eve when they had wed.

   “I am so very blessed,” he said softly, his voice breaking as love welled within him. “I have you and the children and the cares of my life are not as they were. Even after ten years, there are times when I can scarcely believe how fortunate I am.”

   Arwen smiled at him, lovingly, her adoration shining as the night stars in the depths of her wise eyes. Not for a single moment in those years had she ever regretted her decision to cleave with this most exceptional man.

   “No, most beloved, it is I who is fortunate.”

~oo0oo~

   As Queen of Elves and Men she dwelt with Aragorn for six-score years in great glory and bliss.

The Tale of Aragorn and Arwen                                                       The Return of the King