Post by Admin on Jan 9, 2021 3:03:47 GMT
Author: WhiteGloves
Summary: Moments after his coronation, Aragorn was sought by the Elf Lord, Elrond. What it was about and why, Aragorn could only think of one reason and Legolas could also say one thing.
Rating: K
Author’s Note: Aragorn shall live again!
Aragorn: I do not know what strength is in my blood, but I swear to you I will not let the White City fall, nor our people fail.
Boromir: Our people, our people. I would have would have followed you, my brother... my captain... my king.
Aragorn: Be at peace, Son of Gondor.
Aragorn hesitated.
He was outside the door of Lord Elrond’s room, pacing now and then inside the castle of Minas Tirith.
He had been standing there for quite awhile now waiting for the door to miraculously open for him like there was a spell. How he wished Mithrandir was useful. But the door didn’t give in. It did not even give a slight creaking sound. It remained impassive to the King’s silent request.
It was ironic how he, Aragorn, was the Kingdom’s new King yet he could not even walk freely inside his castle. It was not even a day since he was appointed the new King but he could feel its title wearing off. How can he wear the King’s dignity when it comes to the Elf Lord after all?
Aragorn’s burrow creased as he paced up and down the hallway once more with his ever silent feet that have surpassed many Elves.
Where is Legolas? He wondered silently.
It was the Elf Prince who informed him about Lord Elrond’s request to see him after all. He expected the Prince to be there but it was to his disappointment to find the hall empty as he arrived.
Legolas was probably occupied by Ithilien’s reconstruction, Aragorn decided. But will the Elf Prince really leave him at his most delicate moment with his foster father?
Suddenly, the door he was praying to move opened.
Aragorn nearly lost his footing as the double doors of Lord Elrond’s room opened wide and quick, revealing the mighty Elven Lord that has gone through so many battles. Aragorn could barely speak as he saw the Elf already before him.
“Lord Elrond!” he cried much to his surprise.
Elrond gave him a fine look over his wise eyes and then raised an eyebrow.
“You’ve been deferring here for almost an hour I was afraid you’d finally lost all hope, Aragorn.”
Aragorn looked at his foster father’s eyes and saw it twinkle like it used to. He remembered those days when the Elf Lord would look at him with those same loving eyes and when his father would call him Estel.
But that was a long time ago.
Now was different like night and day for those same eyes had given him the task to conquer the world and face his fate when all he wanted was to be safe beside him. It was also those same eyes that denied him for the love of the Evenstar, Arwen Undomiel. He may have been able to attain everything he was challenged to do—he may have the throne that rightly belonged to him, he may have the love of Arwen with Elrond’s consent, but will he also have his father back?
That was why Aragorn still hesitated.
Before him was his foster father, and as the King who defeated the might of Sauron less than a day ago, Aragorn could still not compare the trouble in his heart.
Elrond must have seen through him for the Elf Lord’s eyes softened.
“Aragorn,” he started as he offered his right hand to the lone man, “Come here.”
Aragorn walked slowly toward the Elf Lord with his eyes transfixed at him. He could not help but feel a little worried despite the fact that he was a King. After all, Elrond was more than a King’s authority for him: Elrond was his father.
Elrond lead him inside his quarters and motioned for the King of Men to sit down but Aragorn merely glanced at the chair and then back at the Elf Lord.
“Lord Elrond,” he started with much respect, “I came to honour your request…”
“You did, but much earlier than this,” Elrond’s black eyes reflected Aragorn and the scrutiny on the Elven eyes of his foster father made Aragon a little uncertain of his position. “Why did you hesitate, Aragorn?”
Aragorn knew what his father was talking about. The grey eyes reflected the Elf.
“You wish to see me because of Arwen?”
Elrond merely looked at him.
“Lord Elrond…” the man whispered, “Arwen and I know of your good intent, and we both agree that what you desire for her is for the best. I remember of the conditions you spoke of sometime ago, and with all of it done and won I know you would be true to your words… Nevertheless, My Lord…”
Elrond refrained from speaking so Aragorn insisted on.
“You will travel to the West soon that’s why I do not want you to remember me as the person who took her from you…”
Elrond’s mouth half opened as he heard the man’s words. A look of complete confusion at first crossed his eyes but a second later it was replaced by understanding. He could not hide the surprise and dismay in his voice.
“Aragorn, son of Arathorn, I will remember everything about you except of taking my daughter away. No, my son, you are much more than that!”
Elrond crossed the gap between them and gave the man a squeeze on the shoulders. He caught Aragorn’s grey eyes and held them with his.
“I shall remember you as the greatest man of all, you above everything are my pride and honour. Do not think otherwise, that is unnecessary. You have fought well against everything I’ve perceive to come your way! You’ve come out of everything, not unscratched maybe, but alive and well! You must think badly of me if you think I will remember you with contempt and hatred!”
Aragorn stared at the Elf Lord’s sincere eyes and felt ashamed of himself.
“Forgive me for my doubt…” he whispered, all too weak to any other response.
Elrond looked at him unwaveringly and shook his head.
“You have grown so fast, my son… and now you’ve become the King I have perceived you to be, yet your journey is not over… Forgive me if I cannot be your guide any longer… I must be with my kin… the time of the Elves is over. Someday it will be my time to move on.”
He walked away from Aragorn who followed him with his eyes.
“You must not dwell on the idea of Arwen any longer. I know my daughter is contented here with you. I shall not say anything about this.”
Aragorn nodded a little. Elrond suddenly looked at him again.
“But this is not the matter in which I called your attention of,” he said quietly, “I came to give you this,”
He took something from his sleeves and gave it to Aragorn. Looking closely, the man realized it was a scroll of parchment.
“My Lord?” he started doubtfully. He opened it and saw Elrond’s symbol. The symbol he often sees at the front door of Rivendell. It was the mark of the Household of Elrond.
He looked at Elrond with confusion in his eyes. Elrond smiled at him and nodded.
“I give you the dwelling house of the Elves, the sanctuary of the immortals, the Household of Elrond: Rivendell, Imladris.”
“Lord Elrond!” Aragorn cried in surprise, “Why would you—?”
“You are my son,” Elrond stated simply, “and thus that is the only thing I can leave in your hands. An heirloom only you deserve from everything. This is my wish, Aragorn.”
Aragorn glanced down at the mark of Imladris again and had to blink twice.
“My Lord, this is…”
“The only thing I can do for you and you alone,” Elrond said quietly, “I have already done Middle Earth a great service—probably the greatest service of even leaving the two most important heirlooms for me, yet I must do it. So all I ask of you is to accept Rivendell as your own Kingdom. Arwen agrees with my decision. She does not want anything save the man she loves.”
Aragorn looked up at the Elf Lord and though still hesitant, he nodded.
“I am honoured, my Lord, it is truly a gift from the heavens… to have Rivendell under my care is more than what I deserve from you…”
“Do not speak like you are different from me,” Elrond raised an eyebrow, “Formalities are save for formal occasions, you are my son, you ought to call me father.”
Aragorn smiled a little as he gazed back at the black eyes of the Elven Lord.
“With all love, my father, I shall call you that once more.”
***
Later that day, Aragorn was able to locate Legolas in the stables and feeding the new fowls.
“Aragorn,” Legolas called as he saw his King coming, “What brings you here?”
“My father has left me Rivendell,” Aragorn started conversationally as he joined his friend in feeding the fowls, “I cannot express my joy, Legolas…”
“You look happy enough,” Legolas commented with a smile, “But I do not think that is the reason why your eyes are sparkling…”
Aragorn shot the Elf a look. How well does Legolas know him, he wanted to know. Yet, of true friends, Aragorn decided he should not underestimate the Prince of Mirkwood.
“Lord Elrond called me ‘son’… he accepted me once more.”
Legolas blinked at the man.
“I told you not to doubt the Elf Lord, did I not?” he said after a moment, “You are the only one thinking otherwise of your position.”
Aragorn nodded without question.
“What else do you have in mind?” Legolas pressed on as he recognized his friend’s thoughtful look.
The man looked at the Prince.
“I think… Lord Elrond just referred to me as his ‘heirloom’.” He confided thoughtfully.
Legolas blinked.
“Pardon me?”
Aragorn frowned, “He spoke of heirlooms… that he was leaving two most important heirlooms in middle earth… I think of Arwen, and myself.”
Legolas watched the man and had to smile again.
“An heirloom does resemble you, old friend,” the Prince said with a grin on his fair face.
“I do not like the sound of your voice, my friend.”
Legolas tinkled a laugh before returning on feeding the fowls gently.
“Heirloom or not, I think Lord Elrond wants to say that he considers you something that must be taken care of for you are of great value. Something that Middle Earth should be thankful for receiving… since Lord Elrond seemed somewhat hesitant to give it up from the very beginning.”
He looked pointedly at the King who looked back at him.
“You flatter me,” Aragorn said after awhile, “I am not valuable…”
“Speak for yourself, my King,” Legolas shook his head, “but you are the greatest heirloom Middle Earth can ever receive from the Elves.”
Aragorn looked at the Elf Prince who looked back at him.
“The fowl’s waiting for the food,” Aragorn suddenly pointed out as he gave all the grass on his hand at the beast, “I shall retire in my room. I shall see you later.”
Legolas watched the King walk away slowly and had to sigh.
“You do not know how valuable you are, my friend… even I am hesitant to leave you here…”
The fowl gave a small cry its small voice could give. Legolas shot it a look.
“Aye, Middle Earth is so lucky.”
*The End*
Summary: Moments after his coronation, Aragorn was sought by the Elf Lord, Elrond. What it was about and why, Aragorn could only think of one reason and Legolas could also say one thing.
Rating: K
Author’s Note: Aragorn shall live again!
Aragorn: I do not know what strength is in my blood, but I swear to you I will not let the White City fall, nor our people fail.
Boromir: Our people, our people. I would have would have followed you, my brother... my captain... my king.
Aragorn: Be at peace, Son of Gondor.
Aragorn hesitated.
He was outside the door of Lord Elrond’s room, pacing now and then inside the castle of Minas Tirith.
He had been standing there for quite awhile now waiting for the door to miraculously open for him like there was a spell. How he wished Mithrandir was useful. But the door didn’t give in. It did not even give a slight creaking sound. It remained impassive to the King’s silent request.
It was ironic how he, Aragorn, was the Kingdom’s new King yet he could not even walk freely inside his castle. It was not even a day since he was appointed the new King but he could feel its title wearing off. How can he wear the King’s dignity when it comes to the Elf Lord after all?
Aragorn’s burrow creased as he paced up and down the hallway once more with his ever silent feet that have surpassed many Elves.
Where is Legolas? He wondered silently.
It was the Elf Prince who informed him about Lord Elrond’s request to see him after all. He expected the Prince to be there but it was to his disappointment to find the hall empty as he arrived.
Legolas was probably occupied by Ithilien’s reconstruction, Aragorn decided. But will the Elf Prince really leave him at his most delicate moment with his foster father?
Suddenly, the door he was praying to move opened.
Aragorn nearly lost his footing as the double doors of Lord Elrond’s room opened wide and quick, revealing the mighty Elven Lord that has gone through so many battles. Aragorn could barely speak as he saw the Elf already before him.
“Lord Elrond!” he cried much to his surprise.
Elrond gave him a fine look over his wise eyes and then raised an eyebrow.
“You’ve been deferring here for almost an hour I was afraid you’d finally lost all hope, Aragorn.”
Aragorn looked at his foster father’s eyes and saw it twinkle like it used to. He remembered those days when the Elf Lord would look at him with those same loving eyes and when his father would call him Estel.
But that was a long time ago.
Now was different like night and day for those same eyes had given him the task to conquer the world and face his fate when all he wanted was to be safe beside him. It was also those same eyes that denied him for the love of the Evenstar, Arwen Undomiel. He may have been able to attain everything he was challenged to do—he may have the throne that rightly belonged to him, he may have the love of Arwen with Elrond’s consent, but will he also have his father back?
That was why Aragorn still hesitated.
Before him was his foster father, and as the King who defeated the might of Sauron less than a day ago, Aragorn could still not compare the trouble in his heart.
Elrond must have seen through him for the Elf Lord’s eyes softened.
“Aragorn,” he started as he offered his right hand to the lone man, “Come here.”
Aragorn walked slowly toward the Elf Lord with his eyes transfixed at him. He could not help but feel a little worried despite the fact that he was a King. After all, Elrond was more than a King’s authority for him: Elrond was his father.
Elrond lead him inside his quarters and motioned for the King of Men to sit down but Aragorn merely glanced at the chair and then back at the Elf Lord.
“Lord Elrond,” he started with much respect, “I came to honour your request…”
“You did, but much earlier than this,” Elrond’s black eyes reflected Aragorn and the scrutiny on the Elven eyes of his foster father made Aragon a little uncertain of his position. “Why did you hesitate, Aragorn?”
Aragorn knew what his father was talking about. The grey eyes reflected the Elf.
“You wish to see me because of Arwen?”
Elrond merely looked at him.
“Lord Elrond…” the man whispered, “Arwen and I know of your good intent, and we both agree that what you desire for her is for the best. I remember of the conditions you spoke of sometime ago, and with all of it done and won I know you would be true to your words… Nevertheless, My Lord…”
Elrond refrained from speaking so Aragorn insisted on.
“You will travel to the West soon that’s why I do not want you to remember me as the person who took her from you…”
Elrond’s mouth half opened as he heard the man’s words. A look of complete confusion at first crossed his eyes but a second later it was replaced by understanding. He could not hide the surprise and dismay in his voice.
“Aragorn, son of Arathorn, I will remember everything about you except of taking my daughter away. No, my son, you are much more than that!”
Elrond crossed the gap between them and gave the man a squeeze on the shoulders. He caught Aragorn’s grey eyes and held them with his.
“I shall remember you as the greatest man of all, you above everything are my pride and honour. Do not think otherwise, that is unnecessary. You have fought well against everything I’ve perceive to come your way! You’ve come out of everything, not unscratched maybe, but alive and well! You must think badly of me if you think I will remember you with contempt and hatred!”
Aragorn stared at the Elf Lord’s sincere eyes and felt ashamed of himself.
“Forgive me for my doubt…” he whispered, all too weak to any other response.
Elrond looked at him unwaveringly and shook his head.
“You have grown so fast, my son… and now you’ve become the King I have perceived you to be, yet your journey is not over… Forgive me if I cannot be your guide any longer… I must be with my kin… the time of the Elves is over. Someday it will be my time to move on.”
He walked away from Aragorn who followed him with his eyes.
“You must not dwell on the idea of Arwen any longer. I know my daughter is contented here with you. I shall not say anything about this.”
Aragorn nodded a little. Elrond suddenly looked at him again.
“But this is not the matter in which I called your attention of,” he said quietly, “I came to give you this,”
He took something from his sleeves and gave it to Aragorn. Looking closely, the man realized it was a scroll of parchment.
“My Lord?” he started doubtfully. He opened it and saw Elrond’s symbol. The symbol he often sees at the front door of Rivendell. It was the mark of the Household of Elrond.
He looked at Elrond with confusion in his eyes. Elrond smiled at him and nodded.
“I give you the dwelling house of the Elves, the sanctuary of the immortals, the Household of Elrond: Rivendell, Imladris.”
“Lord Elrond!” Aragorn cried in surprise, “Why would you—?”
“You are my son,” Elrond stated simply, “and thus that is the only thing I can leave in your hands. An heirloom only you deserve from everything. This is my wish, Aragorn.”
Aragorn glanced down at the mark of Imladris again and had to blink twice.
“My Lord, this is…”
“The only thing I can do for you and you alone,” Elrond said quietly, “I have already done Middle Earth a great service—probably the greatest service of even leaving the two most important heirlooms for me, yet I must do it. So all I ask of you is to accept Rivendell as your own Kingdom. Arwen agrees with my decision. She does not want anything save the man she loves.”
Aragorn looked up at the Elf Lord and though still hesitant, he nodded.
“I am honoured, my Lord, it is truly a gift from the heavens… to have Rivendell under my care is more than what I deserve from you…”
“Do not speak like you are different from me,” Elrond raised an eyebrow, “Formalities are save for formal occasions, you are my son, you ought to call me father.”
Aragorn smiled a little as he gazed back at the black eyes of the Elven Lord.
“With all love, my father, I shall call you that once more.”
***
Later that day, Aragorn was able to locate Legolas in the stables and feeding the new fowls.
“Aragorn,” Legolas called as he saw his King coming, “What brings you here?”
“My father has left me Rivendell,” Aragorn started conversationally as he joined his friend in feeding the fowls, “I cannot express my joy, Legolas…”
“You look happy enough,” Legolas commented with a smile, “But I do not think that is the reason why your eyes are sparkling…”
Aragorn shot the Elf a look. How well does Legolas know him, he wanted to know. Yet, of true friends, Aragorn decided he should not underestimate the Prince of Mirkwood.
“Lord Elrond called me ‘son’… he accepted me once more.”
Legolas blinked at the man.
“I told you not to doubt the Elf Lord, did I not?” he said after a moment, “You are the only one thinking otherwise of your position.”
Aragorn nodded without question.
“What else do you have in mind?” Legolas pressed on as he recognized his friend’s thoughtful look.
The man looked at the Prince.
“I think… Lord Elrond just referred to me as his ‘heirloom’.” He confided thoughtfully.
Legolas blinked.
“Pardon me?”
Aragorn frowned, “He spoke of heirlooms… that he was leaving two most important heirlooms in middle earth… I think of Arwen, and myself.”
Legolas watched the man and had to smile again.
“An heirloom does resemble you, old friend,” the Prince said with a grin on his fair face.
“I do not like the sound of your voice, my friend.”
Legolas tinkled a laugh before returning on feeding the fowls gently.
“Heirloom or not, I think Lord Elrond wants to say that he considers you something that must be taken care of for you are of great value. Something that Middle Earth should be thankful for receiving… since Lord Elrond seemed somewhat hesitant to give it up from the very beginning.”
He looked pointedly at the King who looked back at him.
“You flatter me,” Aragorn said after awhile, “I am not valuable…”
“Speak for yourself, my King,” Legolas shook his head, “but you are the greatest heirloom Middle Earth can ever receive from the Elves.”
Aragorn looked at the Elf Prince who looked back at him.
“The fowl’s waiting for the food,” Aragorn suddenly pointed out as he gave all the grass on his hand at the beast, “I shall retire in my room. I shall see you later.”
Legolas watched the King walk away slowly and had to sigh.
“You do not know how valuable you are, my friend… even I am hesitant to leave you here…”
The fowl gave a small cry its small voice could give. Legolas shot it a look.
“Aye, Middle Earth is so lucky.”
*The End*