The Price of Pride

Elvish translations

Isildurion – Isildur’s son (heir)
Pen-velui – beautiful one
Melethryn – lovers
Mellon – friend
Ae syntrea chen – please
Sulime – March
Tolo – come


Chapter 50


When the snows started to melt and the first early flowers began to peek up from the almost-frozen ground, the twins announced that it was time for us to leave. They negotiated with Haleth for the purchase of four horses, to bear us home faster. Haleth drove a hard bargain, but the three of them finally settled on a price. As we made our preparations to leave, I cornered Elladan. “Why are we in such a hurry now when we have spent the winter idle here?” I asked.

“Because Ada wants Estel home in time for his birthday on the first day of Sulime. But not long before.” That explained the southern bent of our travels last spring and summer, but it raised as many questions as it answered.

“Why?”

“Legolas, you should know by now that Ada keeps his own counsel. I know not what his plans are, only that we were to give Estel some experience with hunting, tracking, and fighting and that we were to bring him home just in time for his twentieth birthday. We have fulfilled the first part, with a few extra experiences thrown in. Now we will fulfill the second part,” Elladan replied.

I let the comment about extra experience pass, for I was sure Elladan was talking about me when he spoke of them. Our time together had indeed been a new experience for Aragorn. It had been new for me in many ways as well. I hoped Arwen would be in Rivendell when we arrived so that I could finally settle things with Aragorn and, I hoped, form the bond with him that I craved. The tension between us that winter had driven home for me how much I wanted Aragorn freely and openly in my life and I was eager to ease the tension and restore the playfulness and tenderness we had shared when we first met.

We rode hard for Rivendell, having only three weeks time to reach it. Fortunately, the horses we bought from Haleth were up for the task, moving steadily from dawn to dusk, with only a short pause for lunch. We arrived, as requested, two days before Aragorn’s birthday.

Our arrival led to another bit of awkwardness between us. We had shared a room at the inn out of desire for one another and at Freyla’s because only one was available, though my desire for the arrangement had certainly not lessened, but there was no such necessity in Imladris. Elrond had plenty of rooms available. Much to my dismay, Aragorn did not invite me to share his room, so I accepted the rooms that had been mine whenever I was in Rivendell and Arwen was not.

As soon as I was settled, I sought out Elrohir. “Arwen is not here,” I said without preamble. “Do you know where she is or when she will arrive?”

“Ada said she should arrive next week. She is on her way home from Lorien,” Elrohir replied calmly, though his face told me what he thought of my abruptness. “Just a little longer, mellon, and then perhaps you can finally erase the miserable look from yours and Estel’s faces.”

I thanked him and resigned myself to one more week of uncertainty.

Elrond had a feast and a party planned for Aragorn’s birthday, and I agonized over them. I wanted to attend the feast as Aragorn’s lover, to spend it at his side, lover’s braids and gold ribbons in my hair, but I did not know if he would let me, especially since he had been avoiding me since our arrival.

I cornered him finally, the evening before his birthday. “You have been avoiding me, melethron. Why?” I asked.

“Because you are still here,” he replied.

“That is a vague answer, Estel,” I retorted, beginning to get annoyed. “Would you care to elaborate?”

“If your Elf is here, you should have already spoken to her. Yet you have not spoken to me. So she must not be here. I wonder why you have not left to find her.”

“Perhaps because tomorrow is your birthday. Did it occur to you that I might want to spend it with you?” I asked in amazement.

“I am nothing to you. You need not change your plans because of me.”

That was more than I could take. “You are not nothing, as you put it, and you know it. I told you when we were at that inn that I would flaunt what we shared before all of Rivendell if you would let me. I will wear lover’s braids and gold ribbons in my hair tomorrow if you want me to, so that everyone would know that we are together.”

“Yet you will not speak the words to make it real,” Aragorn retorted. It was the same argument that we had had before.

“The Elf I need to speak to will be here next week. I will talk to her when she arrives, and then I will speak all the words you need to hear.”

“Then we will talk next week.” He turned to go.

“Estel!” I called after him, but he did not stop walking. I let him go. He was obviously not in the mood to listen to my reasoning, not that I could say anything other than what I had said before. I returned to my room to toss restlessly in my lonely bed, missing Aragorn’s presence.

I stayed late in bed the next day, having no reason to rise early and no desire to face the day alone. Then, a frantic knocking sounded at my door.

“Tolo,” I called.

Much to my surprise, Aragorn entered timidly. “Can I talk to you? Ae syntrea chen?”

“Of course, Estel, what is it?”

“I… My name is not Estel,” he said slowly.

“What do you mean? What would your name be?” I asked, confused.

“Ada just told me that my name is Aragorn. I am the son of Arathorn, leader of the Dúnedain…” he trailed off. Arathorn. Dúnedain I knew those names. I wracked my brain, trying to place the reference. The lessons received at my tutor’s knee came back to me. The Dúnedain were the Rangers of the North, remnants of the kingdom… The kingdom of Arnor. Which meant that their leader was Isildur’s heir. I stared at Aragorn blankly, struggling to take in the fact that my lover was Isildur’s heir. Heir to the throne of Gondor.

“Isildurion,” I murmured.

“Apparently,” he replied. “I… I do not understand. It is too much to take in.”

“What worries you?” I asked him.

“Many things,” he answered. “The Shadow grows in the East and in Dol Guldur because Isildur was too weak to destroy it when he had the chance, yet he was one of the greatest warriors Men have ever known. What chance do I have against such evil?”

“Isildur’s weakness was not a physical weakness, but a weakness of the heart. It had nothing to do with his skill as a warrior. You may not yet match him as a warrior, but it is your heart that must fight the ultimate battle with the Shadow. You will make a fine King, Est… Aragorn,” I assured him, catching myself on his name.

“I do not want to be King. I want to live my life in Rivendell, an ordinary man, with nothing more to worry about than whether the Elf I lo…” He broke off. I wanted to prompt him to finish the sentence. I wanted to reassure him that I loved him enough to follow him to Gondor if that was what it took. I wanted to be the first to swear my allegiance to the new King. I did none of those things then, and though I later swore my allegiance, I was not the first. That honor belonged to Boromir.

“Will you stand beside me tonight?” Aragorn asked. “I will need all the support I can get when Ada announces this tonight.”

“Of course I will, melethron.”

“As my friend, Legolas. When there is more to tell, we can tell them, but tonight I need my friends.”

“Your friends will be with you, Aragorn. Tonight and always. I will not wear lover’s braids, though I would not hide what we are, but I will wear gold ribbons. I want none here in Imladris but you, whether you will have me or not.”

“What are we, Legolas?”

“Melethryn,” I replied. “We are lovers, pen-velui, if you will let us be.”