Gone

Gone

Chapter 4
Author: Frosty the Obstetrician
Rated: NC-17
Codes: Aragorn, Faramir, Boromir, Legolas, OC, AU, N/C.
Summary: A series of events in Middle-earth leads to a darkened King, the departure of the elves, and a realization by those who remain.
Author's Notes: Elvish translations are in parentheses.

*

The room was comfortable. It was decorated hues of deep reds and dark greens, and Legolas had told her that this building was kept for visitors from the elven realms. Part of her felt better knowing that she was alone here, away from the people of the city, but the wise side of her mind told her she'd regret it eventually. Here she was cut off from the rest of the world, housed in a place that lit up the fact that she was different. She knew the people of Minas Tirith wouldn't hate her because she was an elf - Arwen had been one, after all - but she was still different. And she was here to take the place of someone they had loved.

Folding her hands upon her lap, she leaned back in the chair she sat upon and sighed heavily. Her eyes rested on the blonde across the dinner table, and he did not look away from her. She could see the sorrow in his expression and felt it as well, but she understood his reasons. Still, she had to ask again, "You must leave tonight?"

Legolas nodded. "I have already made the arrangements."

She was about to be left alone here, in a city she had never before been to with people who most certainly would not accept her. "I hope I do not have to stay here long."

He lowered his eyes. "I am sure things will go well."

Idril did not respond. When he finally looked back up at her, she smiled. "You do not lie well, Legolas," she said softly.

"I am not lying." Her expression chastised him, so he relented. "I will admit I do not know for certain, but things can only get better."

Her voice drew to a whisper. "Things could get worse."

"Do not think that way. You will do this favour for Elrond, and then I will see you in Valinor. It will go smoot and and then you will have your rest."

Earlier in the day, Aragorn had brought his son to meet her. The child had been quiet and frightened, as was to be expected, but what the King was who had surprised her. He had been friendly, as Legolas had said he would be, but also attentive in a way that she found distracting. His eyes rarely left her when they were together, and she could not figure out what he was thinking. After he had left with his son, she had asked Legolas about it. He had not an answer, only surmising that Aragorn was curious. She thought about that as Legolas spoke. For some reason, she did not think her time here would go smoothly.

"What are you thinking about?" Her eyes raced up to his as he looked at her in concern.

"The days ahead," she replied, "And Elessar."

Legolas took a drink of wine from his goblet. "I know you worry what he thinks of you, but I promise he is a kind man. Having just lost Arwen, I am sure his demeanor has been affected."

"Ye rie right," she sighed, looking out the window. The day was turning gray. "It will be dark soon. Will you not stay the night?"

As if remaining seated would make him reconr, hr, he quickly stood and made his way to his cloak. "I must go," he said as he wrapped it around himself, "You know I have to."

Saddened, Idril stood and made her way over to whhe phe prepared. Her eyes watched every movement closely, for each second was one less she had with friends. "I do," she breathed, taking his pack from the floor and handing it to him, "But I do not like it."

Legolas smiled and came forward, taking her into an embrace. "I will see you again. Soon. Take good care of the prince."

She fought back the tears that threatened to cloud her eyes. "And you take good care of yourself. Elrond as well." Smiling, she parted from him and touched his face. "Thank you."

He nodded and pulled away from her, opening the door. "Na eithel," he said, exiting and closing it behind him.
(Be well.)

Exhaling deeply, Idril turned and walked back to the bed. Sitting down gently, she glanced up at the window and frowned at the wetness staining the glass. It was raining.

*

Boromir narrowed his eyes and glared at the drizzle streaking the tall windows of the citadel. "I am about ready to give up on the stars for good," he muttered, shaking his head, "I think we are destined to live in boats."

Looking up at his brother, Faramir followed his eyes to the window. In truth, he was beginning to hate the rain as well. It was warm in the hall, though, as they sat at a table beside a roaring fire. Whiskey heated their bodies and relaxed their minds.

"The Valar are angry," breathed Aragorn, sipping from his goblet. His eyes were trained upon the fire. "Too many have been allowed to perish."

"None of this has been our fault," replied Boromir, "Why should we be punished?"

"We're not being punished," said Faramir, "It is only rain."

Shaking his head, his eyes not leaving the blaze, the King replied as though thinking out loud. "What purpose is left, except to exist? There is no longer anything to fight for, no reason for being. The elves are leaving. I wish I could do the same."

Boromir's eyes flashed in quiet anger. "And what of your son, Aragorn? Is he not worth fighting for?"

It was then the King looked up, meeting the Captain's gaze. "My son is all that keeps me here."

"You did not answer my question," stated Boromir, narrowing his eyes.

"My son will carry on rem remains of this world, but I am not sure what he carries is worth keeping."

Faramir blinked softly. "The words you speak are eerily familiar, Aragorn. Do they not remind you of how many felt when Sauron was still a threat?"

Fingers tracing the rim of his goblet, he smiled. "This is different. There is no darkness here. There is nothing."

Angered, Boromir leaned forward and hissed, "What is the matter with you? Have you given up because of Arwen?"

Aragorn's eyes flashed in the glow of the room. "Arwen's death has sorrowed me, but it was the time afterwards that made me realize how worthless it all is. I tried to find what it was I needed to go on, but that venture proved fruitless. The only thing I gained was the clarity of what life really is."

The brothers exchanged confused glances. "What did you do?" asked Faramir, concerned.

Waving a hand, Aragorn shook his head and sighed. "It matters not. None of it does."

Boromir pointed a finger in the King's direction. "I am going to tell myself that it is the whiskey that has poisoned your mind, and hope that tomorrow you will regret all that you have said. I will speak on this no longer. It is not worth ruining the night over." He raised his glass and drank deeply from it.

Faramir sighed and turned his own glass on the table. "We are all too drunk to be discussing such things."

Aragorn knit his brow, but said nothing. After a short pause, Boromir pursed his lips and nudged the King's arm. "What of this new elf, Aragorn? Has she irritated you so greatly you would despise life because of her?"

"This has nothing to do with her," he responded.

"She seems nice," said Faramir.

Boromir and Aragorn looked at him and frowned. "Nice?" repeated his brother, "How would you know
T
The younger shrugged. "I spoke with her. I do not think she's here to cause any problems."

Aragorn's clear blue eyes moved back and forth between the brothers as they spoke. "She is a problem in herself," grunted Boromir, then added with a smirk, "Though not too bad to look at."

The King sighed. "Leave the elf alone, Boromir. She has enough to worry about without you harassing her."

"What does she have to worry about?" he asked, pouring himself more whiskey.

Aragorn's eyes became distant. "A city of people who dislike her for no other reason than her very existence."

"Is it really that severe?" questioned Faramir.

"I do not expect them to accept her. She is, in essence, taking the place of Arwen."

Faramir frowned. "How do you feel about her?"

His eyes jerked up. "If you're asking if I resent her, I do not. I don't believe Eldarion needs a caregiver, but I understand Elrond's reasons. She may prove useful." Sliding his gaze to Boromir, he added, "I don't want either of you to take advantage of that usefulness, understand?"

Boromir grinned. "As clear as day, my King."

"Legolas asked us to make sure she is comfortable. I take it you would have no problems with us doing that?" asked Faramir.

The King's eyes seemed to flicker in thought. "It is my preference that neither of you speak with her."

That bothered the young Captain. "Why?"

Aragorn sighed. "Must I explain my every wish, Faramir?"

Boromir's eyes narrowed as he wat the the exchange, sipping occasionally from his drink. "It is an odd wish, Aragorn, especially considering you have just lost your wife."

That was the wrong thing to say. "What are you insinuating?" asked Aragorn, clearly angry.

"I insinuate nothing. What other reason would you ask us not to consort with someone other than you do not want hetenttention wandering from you?"

Aragorn jerked up from his chair and stared down at the Captain. "You go too far, Boromir. I do not have intentions towards this elf."

"Then what is your reason? Do you believe she is evil? The enemy? Or do you simply want her to be as unhappy as possible?"

Shoving the chair loudly back towards the table, Aragorn shook his head. "I do not answer to you, Captain."

Through with the conversation, he stalked out of the room and out into the growing storm. When the door slammed shut behind him, the brothers exchanged glances. "Was that really necessary, Boromir?"

The elder shrugged and finished his alcohol. "Perhaps not, but it was interesting."

"I have never seen him so...unsteady," said Faramir, picking up the glass in his hand. He looked at it, but did not touch it to his lips. "Could this all be because of Arwen?"

"Arwen. The elves. This new one. The goddamn rain." Shaking his head, Boromir pushed his empty goblet away. "He simply has issues to work through."

Leaning forward and setting his glass beside his brothers', Faramir asked, "Do you not find his request regarding Idril a little odd?"

"Of course it's odd." He raised an eyebrow in suspicion. "What do you care if he doesn't want us interacting with her, anyways?"

Moving his gaze away from Boromir's, Faramir shook his head. "No reason. I simply feel bad for her."

His brother's eyes narrow"Why"Why?"

Looking up, Faramir sighed. "She is alone in a new place, Boromir, and unlike you, I have concern for a young lady's well-being."

"You are a noble man, brother," he snorted, crossing his arms, "Better than I."

Rolling his eyes at the sarcasm, Faramir ignored his brother's attempts to badger. Pointing at the bottle of whiskey, he smiled. "Have another drink."

Boromir grinned and grabbed for the bottle.

*

TBC