This crimson, this pain that has been wrought only by hatred has found way even to the depths of my self... Alone, in silence, Aragorn sat. The walls about him seemed to close in, his hands were stained and his face was dirtied. Such hopelessness was in his face one would think that the very earth had fallen. Next to him laid a thick mail shirt dripping with deep blood. His face ran with blood, his eyes nipped with tears. It seemed that he had tried to take some rest, though a restless heart cannot sleep. His head swam with lightheadedness. He had not slept in almost a day and a half. Since then, the world of Rohan was held, like captives, in the hold of Helms Deep. The slaughter was over, though the cost was high and the spirit seemed all but beaten. Weariness slowly began to seep into his wandering mind; his eyes began to flutter closed as he lay down on the loose set of blankets on the cold ground.
*Go to sleep...* a soothing, gentle voice whispered into his mind. *Sleep, my Estel...*
As if the winds of his heart had blown away all sadness and despair for a moment, he breathed a gentle sigh, and his mind for a moment wandered. There was no longer the cold floor of the hold in Helms Deep. The gentle brush of new grass passed over his back. The musk and dank of the stonewalls became no more than open fresh night air that smelled of fresh flowers and sweet fresh streams. This was where he wished to be.
He was suddenly aware of hands softly caressing his forehead...long, graceful fingers running through his dark locks. His head was pillowed by what seemed to be the lightest of silk...and he could feel a gentle heat through it, warming the chill that had taken over him. Wondering, his eyes fluttered open. Joy immediately filled him. Smiling down upon him was his love, his life. Arwen Undomiel continued to caress him. "Estel," she whispered gently.
"Arwen?" his voice was no longer hoarse from the night before. No, it was gentle and smooth. Then a coy smile crossed his face.
Arwen gazed at him sternly, but a loving tenderness was in her gaze. "Go to sleep, my love," she told him. Above them, the wind sang softly in the trees and in the golden elanor flowers beneath them, and the leaves of the white birches swirled and danced in the sky. Her hands stopped caressing him for a moment, and she laid a long finger over his lips as he began to speak again.
"How..." A puzzled, joking look came on his face. His right arm came up to hold her cheek.
Again, Arwen smiled and placed her other hand over his. "You really will not sleep, will you, Estel?" she asked softly, a small laugh could be heard in her musical voice.
His hand came around the back of her neck, beginning to draw her nearer. "Why sleep, when you are here?"
Before she could answer, she found that her lips were pressed against his. Her sigh was carried away on the summer breeze, and her hand slid from his to hold his cheek.
His smile still came through the kiss. This was all he needed. Away from all the sorrow and pain of this darkness of war. Peace was where ever she was.
The gentle wind stirred the waves of her raven-dark hair as she pulled away from him, met his eyes for a fleeting moment before she lovingly bent and kissed him again. Each moment was more intoxicating than any drink, and more joyous than any victory.
As the kiss broke once more, he grinned more than he had in many years. "I love you."
"And I love you, my Estel," she said, moving so that she could lie beside him. She wrapped her arms around him and nuzzled her forehead to his.
He looked down at his robes. They were no longer his weather worn, battle torn traveling clothes, but rather clothing he held now only in memory. "You look beautiful," he whispered gently in her ear.
Her eyes flickered to his and she smiled, then ran a hand from his hair to his chest. She stroked the soft material there for a moment before it ran up to his face, and there it lingered on his cheek. "You look like an Elf lord, my love. So kingly, and so wise." Her wondrous smile grew, dazzling him.
Warily, he began to rise, ready to sit. But suddenly, a sharp gasp came. The pain surged through him like the cold stab of the battle that had ended only that morning.
"Aragorn?" she asked, sitting up quickly beside him.
His ragged breathing came through clenched teeth as he sat the rest of the way forward. It was then that he realized that his shoulder still bled. Not only was his shoulder bleeding, but rather his lets and arms and even his shoulder and brow.
"What is it?" she asked softly, wrapping both arms about him. Suddenly, she felt something warm and slick on her hand. She took it off his shoulder and saw that it was blood. The dark-red of his wound contrasted sharply with the pure-white of her skin.
A long pause followed. It took many moments before he even sighed. "Nothing, my love."
Arwen gazed at him. "I do not think this is nothing, Estel," she murmured, indicating her hand and his shoulder. He rose, though unsteadily, and she was instantly up beside him, a look of tender sternness in her blue eyes.
"You need not worry, my love." His gaze came to her immaculate face. Still, she gazed at him.
"Here, Aragorn. Come with me," she said, gently taking his hand in hers and she led him down the grassy slope of Cerin Amroth to the babbling brook Nimdrodel that flowed just around the bend. There on the bank, she gestured him to kneel and then she dropped gracefully beside him. "I will heal those 'nothings' if you wish, love," she told him. Above them, the stars sparkled radiantly in the night; their silver light turning the flower blooms about them a milky white.
"Thank you, my love," he sighed as he lowered himself beside the bank and rested his now weary feet.
Quickly, Arwen ripped the hems of her gown, dipped them in the cool, flowing stream and then, as gently as she could, she pressed the silk to Aragorn's forehead.
"Why.... Why do you still come?" he asked quietly. He recalled in the back of his mind when he had pushed her so far away.
Her eyes flicked to his even as she tended him. "What do you mean, love?" she asked softly, re-dipping the silk into the cool stream then applied it again to his forehead, gently wiping away the rest of the clotted blood.
Another pause ensued the question. "I," he gazed into her eyes once more. "I pushed you so far away... Before I left, and yet you still come back to me."
She stopped tending to him and gazed lovingly into his eyes. "Because I love you, Aragorn," she said softly. "And I never stopped loving you, even on that day...before you left." She smiled gently and stroked a lock of hair back from his face. "And I have always watched you from afar... To protect you."
Surprisingly, bitter thoughts of the night before crept on him. Silently he sat, engulfed with not the joyfulness about him, but rather, the darkness within.
Arwen gazed at him, sensing suddenly the change in him... The coldness and bitterness in him frosted about her, chilling her to the bone. "Estel?" she asked.
The words swiftly drew him out of the shadow that had befallen him. "What, my love?"
Her eyes searched his. "What happened?" she asked, placing a hand over his.
A seething breath came. "We won, though, only a small battle."
She nodded silently, knowing of how the battles had taken their toll upon her Estel. She could feel his sadness, and she suddenly wished that she could shield him from all the hurt and anger of the world...she wished she could somehow comfort him.
"And at such a high cost..." he trailed off, looking away to the gentle waters.
"Many lives were lost, Aragorn, but they were not in vain."
"But lost none the less," the words came with no thought, only swift repercussion of thoughts held within that could not come out.
Arwen glanced at him. It was so unlike him to act in this way... So unlike him.
Gently, he began to get to his feet. He looked out over the hill as if examining a battle scene. "And... And there was so much we could have done."
Arwen gazed up at him, worry in her blue depths. She waited a moment before she too, rose to stand in front of him, searching for some way to comfort him. The coldness and sadness in him was almost too much for her to bear any longer. She could feel him begin to close...to shut away from her.
"So much....." Like the sharp focus of a hawk, his eyes came to her. "And we would not have lost all of those Edheli if we had...."
"Estel." She quietly murmured his name and touched his arm.
Tears slowly began to blur his vision. "And Haldir..." Beneath him, his knees began to tremble as if the very foundations of the earth shook; yet Arwen stood still. "All gone...." A single tear began to fall down his cheeks. The fire of the enemy and the glimmer of the swords glistened in his eyes.
"Aragorn...oh, love.... I know you tried, and I know that in more ways than one, you succeeded. Though you may not realize it," she whispered, searching his cold eyes.
"No...." Finally, like the collapsing of a great wall, his knees gave way. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he buried his face in his hands. "I failed them...."
Arwen came down instantly beside him and wrapped her arms around him, holding him close. She could feel his cold tears fall through the silk of her dress, and she leaned back, bringing his head to rest on her shoulder. Never, in all the years she had known him, had he ever...wept...like he did now. Never had she seen him so lost... She stroked his hair, softly kissing his forehead and murmured tenderly all the while: "It will pass, beloved, my love. This will all pass..." And she continued to caress him, to reassure him. She gathered him even closer when his tears fell more and more frequently, and it broke her heart to see him like this... Her Aragorn. Her Estel.
"Undomiel... I- I tried...." He began to shudder with sobs. "All of those boys.... The future of... of Rohan..."
Arwen pressed her hand to the back of his neck, bringing him closer, searching for the right words to soothe him. "But think, Estel..." she murmured. "Think of the generations you have saved. That those lads saved." She gently kissed the top of his head.
"Even if we have indeed won...." His voice seemed sturdy, though more like a bridge standing in the midst of a storm; the only strong hold. "What promise do we have that it was not in vain?"
"That is like asking if the trust and hope that we have in our love is in vain." Arwen tilted his chin up so she could meet his eyes. "Nothing can be promised, my love. But you must have faith."
As if awakened from restless sleep, he gazed up at her. The heat of the pyres that glistened out into the stormy night of Helm's Deep shone through the blackened depths of his eyes. The screams of pain from boys, from men, and all around him screamed in his mind. The stab of the bloody sword of a creature of darkness brought pain, like the simmering of water over a fire, to the boiling point.
Arwen saw the turmoil...the war in his crystalline depths. "Oh, love," she breathed. She could feel his pain. His despair. Again, she brought his head to her shoulder and she closed her eyes tightly. "Do not despair, Estel... I know it's hard...Believe me. I know it's so hard. But you must not despair. 'To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven,' Aragorn," she whispered.
A brief shudder came over him. Why was he despairing? Here, in his arms, was what he fought for. What he lived for. Through his tear soaked lips, a single word came through that meant so many things to him, though it was yet one word. "Undomiel..."
She opened her eyes at the sound of the desperate murmur of her name, and held him tighter, looking down to meet his gaze. Without saying a word, Arwen caressed his cheek, her finger lingering near his eye where she wiped his tears away. It pained her to the very depths of her soul to see him weep.
"Arwen... I...." He had no words for what he was feeling. The harsh conflict burned in his mind and heart tore him apart. Like a child searching for a safe place to hide away, he held her close to him, his tears like a great release of all his pain.
Shocked at the look in his gaze, Arwen gazed down into his haunted eyes and took his face between her hands. "I know what you think, love. And it is not your fault that lives were lost. You must not blame yourself for what happened. You are not to blame," she whispered, her voice soft and tender, but quite serious all the same.
"I was their captain.... I brought them to that war... that slaughter..." Slowly, he released her, loosening his grip, though longing to hold her forever. She was his stronghold, his shelter.
"You were their captain, yes. But you did not bring them to slaughter. How can you say this to me?" she asked. "How can you say that you brought them to slaughter? They fought because they not only needed to, but wanted to. They fought to defend their women and children. To defend their country and all they live and dream for!" Arwen did not let go of his face, though her hands were gentle.
A dreaded thought passed through his mind. "And their dreams brought them to their graves and their country to its knees." The blood began to run down the side of his face once more.
"But not to its total destruction." Why could he not see this? "When one is upon their knees, they can always rise again. To be tall and upright. To be strong, and braver because they know that if they fall again, they can also rise again."
Like the melting of frost from the frozen winter, a feeling passed over him, wiping away the chill of war and left only warmth of love, life, and hope. Gently, he lifted his hand to cup her cheek, his one salvation there in his arms. "And because of such odds, I am able to rise once more, and find faith... In the future... in what I have made.... and most of all.... in us."
She smiled gently and rested one of her hands upon his. "In us..." she repeated softly, turning so she could kiss his palm.
Before she even reached his palm, his hand turned, catching her chin and bringing her straight to his saline, teary lips. He searched for something... though the search came swiftly. So swiftly that the only answer he knew sat before him.
Arwen held him close, suddenly lost in his warmth...in the tenderness of his touch...and in the love of his caress. She loved him. And she knew she would go to her death loving him still. He was what she lived and breathed for. He was her heart, her soul. He was her beloved. And whenever he would need her, she would be there, to stand by his side, to give him everything if that was what it would take for them to have peace.
The kiss... no simple kiss.... rather his very breath. A breath of life in darkness and a glimmer of hope for a despairing heart. The despair illuminated into radiant light. A light that adorned his very essence.
Through the darkness of night, he slept. Even as the world crashed down about him, he rested, for if nothing more, his mind was at ease. When he awoke the next dawn, the aches of battle still brooded within his body, though, amongst the healing wounds, he found bits of silken threads.
Fin
~ ~
Completed on:
4~19~03
By Silraen and Navana
~ ~
Cry, my Estel
Let your tears wash away your pain
Let them fall down my back
Because I'm here
Cry, my love
Let these tears bring you back
Let them draw forth the light
Because I'll stay beside you
Cry, my heart
Let forever not be long enough
Let these tears show you true
Because I'll be here there in the end
Cry, my King
Let your tears bring back peace
Let despair turn to hope
Because I know you can
Cry, don't be afraid
Let me take you away from sadness
Let me brush away your tears
Because you know I'm at your side
So cry, my Estel
Let your tears wash away your pain
Let them fall down my back
Because I'm here for you
~Navana
"When you feel like you cannot go on, don't you know you will never walk alone? For you live in me. I will stand by your side now. Let me kiss all your tears away. You can stay in my arms now, and I know I can make you believe again."
~Celine Dion
"I will fall, and you will catch me always. Time has taught me this. I will fly. And you'll be here to guide me straight up to my heart's highest wish. I feel you close to me, and I know what love is."
~Celine Dion