The Lost

The Lost

Chapter 15
Author: Frosty the Dairy Cow
Rated: NC-17
Codes: Elrond, Legolas, Aragorn, Haldir, Galadriel, OC, AU, N/C
Summary: After the defeat of Sauron, Elves and Men go to war. The reason, though, is not so clear. Contains real plot.
Notes: Elvish translations are at the end of each chapter.
Disclaimer: LOTR is not mine. Bleh.


*

The morning came quick and early, and brought with it news that Aragorn had agreed to send soldiers to Lothlorien. Part of Anólindë had hoped he would deny Legolas' request. She wanted her friends to remain safe and close to her. Now, as she watched down from the courtyard, the nervousness in her abdomen tightened. She could see Haldir and Legolas riding across Gondor's plains with a small army of men. They had left her in charge of the others who remained behind, she was sure mostly so she would feel useful.

Aragorn had noticed her hesitation when she said her farewells. He had invited her to spend the day with him, so she wouldn't feel alone. When she mentioned that there were still other elves to visit with, he had given her a chiding, sensitive smile, and told her outright that he knew those elves were not close friends. Thinking back, she wondered how closely he watched her if he knew such things.

A slight blush came over face when she thought of her response. She had agreed to remain in his company. There was a time, not long ago, when Anólindë would've rather had tea with a city of dwarves than spend time with one lone human.

Such was the case no longer.

Anólindë blinked into the rising sun as her friends disappeared over the rolling hillside. With a slow, deep breath, she turned and made her way to the Hall where Aragorn waited. Unconsciously smoothing back her hair, she ascended the stairs and entered, and was met with a soft grin from the King.

"Are they out of sight?" he asked, fixing the bracer on his wrist.

She nodded and clasped her hands in front of her. "They are. I hope Legolas knows what he's doing."

Aragorn made a noise in between a grunt and a laugh. She couldn't see his face, as it was downturned to his task and his long, dark hair fell past his ears. Her eyes were watchful, though, trying to discern all of intentions and feelings from each movement and breath. "Legolas may be spontaneous, but he is wise. I am sure they will all be back safely."

Brows knit, Anólindë watched him as he adjusted his other bracer. Whether or not he realized it, he had called Legolas 'wise'. She knew it was past use hoping that Aragorn and the elf could be good friends again, but Anólindë could see the respect there. It had returned, to both of them. She would never have expected such a thing looking at their interaction several days ago.

"I know I will feel better when they return," she sighed.

Aragorn lifted his blue eyes to hers. They blinked softly as he licked his lips and stepped towards her. "I will attempt to keep your mind off such things," was his reply as he touched her shoulder and led her out of the Hall. His arm draped across her back, friendly, and Anólindë made no move to chastise him. "I think a walk would do us some good."

Away from the main part of the city, Anólindë felt almost comfortable in Minas Tirith. It was quiet, and the white buildings made her feel at home. They sparkled almost like the architecture in Lorien did.

She sighed softly and looked around. Sadly, this was not Lorien. This was not her home. And the only time she felt safe here was when she was alone.

Anólindë frowned to herself as her arms crossed over her chest. Aragorn had long ago dropped his arm from her shoulders, but it was as though she could still feel him touching her. They walked in comfortable silence, distracted by their own thoughts. She chanced a glance at him, hoping he wouldn't notice. He did.

"I promise, I am taking you someplace breathtaking," he said, smirking at her dour face, "There is no need to look so bereaved."

Her cheeks blushed as she smiled and looked away. "I'm so Tha That frown was not meant for you."

Anólindë immediately tensed when she felt his hand press on her shoulder. "Anything you need to talk about?"

Swallowing, she shook her head, "No, I'm fine." When he didn't look reassured, she smiled. "Really."

Aragorn let her shoulder go. The lack of warmth was immediately noticeable. He seemed all of a sudden inattentive, she noticed, and she worried if perhaps she had offended him. "Anólindë," he said, surprising her before she could speak. He stopped and turned to face her, tilting his head as his expression became serious. "Do you still not trust me?"

She blinked, unsure about the question. "I..I don't know," she replied, "I want to trust you." Clenching her jaw, she hoped she was giving the right answers. "Why do you ask?"

He knit his brow and continued walking. Anólindë followed, looking to where they were heading. She could see a white archway, leading to a green, flower-filled garden. Aragorn had shown her this place before, but had not taken her inside. He thought bringing her here today would make her feel better, as it was a place of peace and meditation.

Anólindë clenched her arms around herself tighter.

"This garden has been here since the reign of Isildur, and before," said Aragorn as they entered the archway. They found themselves at the beginning of a path of natural beauty Anólindë thought impossible in a city of men. As stark as the rest of Minas Tirith was, this offset everything. "I came here often, after the death of Arwen. She used to love spending time here."

Anólindë looked up at the King as they walked, his eyes gazing past the trees and flowering blossoms to the view of the crystal-capped mountains. He had never mentioned Arwen before, not in a way of memory.

When she said nothing, Aragorn continued speaking. "The spirits of those who came before can be felt here, sometimes. It is a lonely place, but one of great solitude and peace." They stopped at the carved wall that parted them from the wilds of Gondor. The view was darker than from the courtyard, but Arda could so much more clearly be seen. It reminded her of home.

Feeling his eyes upon her, Anólindë turned and looked up at the King. "Why did you bring me here?" she asked quietly as his gentle eyes traced her features. "What is the real reason?"

"You asked me before why I was now willing to accept peace from those who had been my enemies for a century." Aragorn brought his hand up to Anólindë's face, tenderly smoothing his thumb over her jawline. "Im cened man gostaim awarthana i evair. Ned lin hen, im alae ind."

Anólindë blinked back her surprise as he brushed the hair behind her ears. "You decided to accept peace...because of me?" She suddenly felt nervous, as though any wrong move on her part would jeopardize what Galadriel had died for.

The fingers gently stroking her face were distracting and made her feel weak. Aragorn took a deep breath as he looked into her eyes. "Do not feel as though I am asking anything of you. I would never impose myself in such a way. I can't deny, though, that I do have feelings for you. And yes, my decision to go ahead with the peace talks were partially because of you. It has been a long while since I met someone as composed and elegant as Arwen was. You have reminded me of the goodness and sincerity of elves."

She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't find the words. Shaking her head instead, Anólindë watched his expression closely. He was intensely serious, and his proximity caused her to tremble.

"I...I don't know what to say," she breathed finally. She felt flushed by his words and the insistent hand touching near her ear.

His eyes became shadowed as they traveled from her eyes to her lips and back again, and his voice was husky as he spoke, "Garim istaned man im iest le pedan. Dihenanin ae im athrada palanor."

Before she could fully comprehend what he was going to do, Aragorn leaned forwards to Anólindë and captured her lips with his. She gasped slightly as he bit at her mouth, holding her face steady in his hands.

As quickly as he had done it, he pulled back. Anólindë blinked back her surprise and realized how intensely warm she was. "Aragorn...," she whispered, looking up at his face so close to hers.

"Anólindë," he breathed, interrupting what she would say, "Trenarnin nin estel alon arecthel."

She searched his eyes, seeing the vulnerability there. It made her so weak, she didn't know what to tell him. There was too much to think about. She needed time.

Panic began to invade her body. Lifting her hands to his, she gently pulled them away from her face. "Im arinnas, an im garar i istaned i dambeth." Anólindë knit her brow and squeezed his hands. "Im baur anann."

Turning her hand, he brought it to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to the skin. "Iuith pan i anann le cenmaer. Im innas deri."

Nodding as he released her hand, Anólindë stepped back and turned away from the King. She was acutely aware of his eyes on her as she left the garden, walking through the archway and into the city. She suddenly felt so much more alone than she had that morning.

Deciding she did not want to go back to her rooms, Anólindë walked out through the city. Her thoughts consumed her, and she did not realize that she was now, for the first time, alone in Minas Tirith.

By now the people in the city knew who she was, and knew the King wanted no harm to come to her. She looked up, meeting the eyes of several curious onlookers. Their expressions were hard, but not confrontational.

Moving to a quiet corner, Anólindë sat down upon stone steps and watched the people walk by. They barely noticed her, choosing instead to concentrate on their own tasks. It occured to her that Aragorn would gain nothing by divulging his feelings to her, nor would it endear him to his people. Part of her was still hesitant to trust him, trust what he said and did. It was nearly a century of experience that told her to be careful.

His eyes, though, told her otherwise.

As she sighed and rested her head against the wall behind her, Anólindë wished for Legolas' swift return.

*

TBC

Elf-Talk:

Im cened man gostaim awarthana i evair. Ned lin hen, im alae ind. - I sight(ed) what I fear(ed) abandon(ed) by the elves. In your eye(s), I behold heart.
Garim istaned man im iest le pedan. Dihenanin ae im athrada palanor. - I have knowledge of what I wish you to say. Forgive me if I traverse (go) too far. (overfar).
Trenarnin nin estel alon arecthel. - Tell me my hope is not without point (pointless).
Im arinnas, an im garar i istaned i dambeth. Im baur anann. - I will not, for I have not the knowledge of the answer. I need time.
Iuith pan i anann le cenmaer. Im innas deri. - Use all the time you see fit. I will wait.