The Price of Pride

Elvish translations

Elleth – Elf maid
Ellon – Elf male
Gwador – brother


Chapter 25


We finished setting up the camp, lighting a fire and spreading out our bedrolls to rest. Elladan and Elrohir placed their bedrolls side by side as always. Being half-Elven, they fehe che cold much more than I did, though not as badly as Aragorn. We settled for a light meal of lembas since our fight with the Orcs had undoubtedly driven away all the game in the nearby area. The twins talked and bantered, as they always did. Aragorn joined in, giving as good as he got. The affection between the three of them was obvious. Anyone listening to them would have known they were brothers. Especially when Elladan related a particularly embarrassing moment from when Aragorn had felt the first stirrings of attraction. Aragorn retaliated by bringing up Orophin, Elladan’s latest lover. Judging by the look on Elladan’s face, he had not known that Aragorn knew about his relationship with the Galadhrim. That made the exchange even more fascinating. Rarely did I see Elladan caught that off guard. When he recovered his composure, Elladan turned on his twin. “You said you would not tell anyone about Orophin and me.”

“I said nothing,” Elrohir swore, throwing up his hands to protest his innocence.

“Then where did you hear about Orophin, gwador?” Elladan demanded, turning back to Aragorn.

“You have not made all those trips to Lórien just to visit your grandparents. And Lord Celeborn did not suddenly demote one of his best border guards to a messenger for no reason. It was obvious to anyone who bothered to pay attention,” Aragorn replied calmly.

“Fine, but now I shall have to mention Berianir,” Elladan threatened. My ears perked up, wondering who Berianir was to Aragorn.

“And why would you want to mention him?” Aragorn asked. He had not yet perfected that quietly commanding tone, the one he would later use to such effect with Kings and Princes from all the realms of Middle Earth, but the underlying displeasure was clear.

“He fancies you, in case you had not noticed,” Elladan replied.

“I had not,” Aragorn retorted, though his blush suggested otherwise.

“Then perhaps…” Elladan continued to list names, making it clear that Aragorn had caught the interest of many an elleth and ellon in Rivendell. Aragorn continued to deny returning their interest, but he blushed as he protested. Only an innocent, or one still mostly innocent, could blush as often Aragorn did that night.

I forced myself to look away finally, for I found Aragorn’s blushing far too tempting for my peace of mind. I offered to take the first watch when it came time to sleep. There was no way I could have fallen asleep right away. The twins snuggled together under their bedrolls, sharing their body heat as they always did on chilly nights. Aragorn scooted his bedroll as close as he could to the fire, not having even a half-Elf’s resistance to cold.

I watched him settle under the bedroll, face relaxing and eyes closing in sleep. It shocked me for a moment, seeing those eyes closed, before I remembered that Men slept that way. As I sat there, staring at his handsome face, I realized with shock and guilt that I had spent an entire evening with Arwen’s brothers and had not asked about her once. I loved her. What was wrong with me? How could I love Arwen and still look with desire on this Man? I knew that she would eventually leave me for another, though I did not know for whom, but that affected her feelings, not mine. For twenty-seven centuries, I had been faithful to Arwen. Even when we were separated, I had not taken other lovers. I wanted none but her. Now, mere hours after meeting a man – a Man! - I was pondering him and the delights of his body rather than thinking of Arwen as I had always done on long watches. I had never considered that I might meet someone else, not even after my conversation with Celebrian before her departure for Valinor. I had answered her when she asked what I would do if I met someone, but I had not believed it could ever happen. And now it had, with Elrond’s foster-son, and a Man, no less, with whom I might spend fifty years, if I was lucky, before losing him to death. I was not so naïve as to believe that I knew him well enough to love him, not only a few hours after meeting him, but I was intrigued by him. By the way he combined Elvish grace with the power of Men. By the way he spoke Elvish fluently, without even an accent to betray his heritage, though, if I knew Elrond, he spoke Westron just as fluently. By the way he teased Elladan and Elrohir and the way they responded. By his earthy innocence, which should have been a contradiction, but somehow was not. By his charisma, which even at nineteen, was beginning to show.

The question of loving them both tortured me for hours that night, and on many other nights as well, as I struggled to reconcile my conflicting feelings for Arwen and for Aragorn. I had always desired Arwen y may mate, but I had also always known that she would never be. Elvish law forbid it; Elrond forbid it; Arwen had never spoken of it so I did not dare. What we shared was wonderful when we were together, but we were apart far more often, and melancholy was my constant companion during those times. Elves not privy to my counsel had often wondered, even within my hearing, why I did not seek a mate to console me when I was so obviously lonely. I had always answered that I had not found yet anyone I could take as a mate. It was a fine line between truth and lie, for I had found someone I wanted, but I could not have her. Now, lying not ten feet away from me was someone who inspired in me the same feelings that Arwen did. And he was someone I could perhaps take as a mate. Even if his mortality meant that our bond would die with him. Surely I would not be betraying Arwen to pursue this, not when I knew she would some day leave me, no matter how faithful I remained to her.

I was still wrestling with my dilemma when a sound caught my attention. Aragorn rolled over in his sleep, pulling the folds of his bedroll tighter around his shoulders. Ithil gave just enough light for me to see a shiver run through him. I rose from my spot and went to my bedroll. I still carried a double blanket in my pack, for I had not been home since winter, but the temperature had warmed enough that I would only need one. I pulled out the extra blanket and draped it across the sleeping form, my hand brushing gently across his shoulder. He relaxed almost immediately under my touch, falling into a deeper sleep.

I settled on a log next to where he was sleeping, adding more wood to the fire to keep him warm. He was so beautiful bathed in moonlight and the light of the fire. His blue eyes were closed in sleep so I could not ponder them, but I eagerly studied the rest of his features. His high forehead was still smooth, unmarked by the burdens he would later carry. His dark hair, which had earlier been bound in warrior’s braids, was loose, just brushing his shoulders, short by Elvish standards, though not by the standards of Men. The lower half of his face was covered by the beginnings of a beard that did nothing to hide the stubborn jut of his chin or the fullness of his lips. I dreamed of kissing those lips as I sat there, wondering what the beard would feel like against my own smooth skin. Would his lips be firm, demanding, or would they yield to mine? I pictured the body I had seen half-revealed earlier that evening. Imagined how those muscles would give under my hands. How those arms would feel holding me close. Then I chided myself for my thoughts. He had given me no indication that he was the least bit interested in me. Or in males at all. There had been male names among those Elladan had thrown at him during their banter, but there had been female names as well. Aragorn’s reaction had been the same to all the names. Indifference, though real or feigned I could not tell. He certainly had learned the Elvish trick of hiding one’s thoughts. All that conversation revealed for sure was that he had no steady lover. If he had, the other Elves would not have continued pursuing him. Poaching was severely discouraged.

He shifted again, his hair falling across his face. I was so tempted to reach out and brush it back. My hand was reaching for him when I jerked it back. I did not yet have the right to touch him that way, not without his permission. A time came when I did not hesitate to touch him, but that time had not yet arrived, and I would not take from him what he might not be willing to give.

Instead, I sat beside him, watching over his sleep, until Arien rose in the east.