Subject: A forgotten heart remembered |
Author: Aragorn
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Date Posted: 15:38:38 03/25/02 Mon
He had ignored her desparate screams but the almost silent sobbing tugged at the heart he had thought was forgotten.
It was forgotten, Aragorn reminded himself firmly. No heart meant he couldn't love and without love there would be no chance of him feeling this hurt again.
His sentimental soul cried out but stubbornly his head insisted it was for the best and with his eyes wet from crying, Aragorn was ready to agree with it.
Outside it was raining hard and he moved to the window. The gale was strong and it took all his effort to force the shutters closed. But before he did Aragorn cast one last disparing look at the forest that now housed his former best friends. His eye was drawn to a patch of light in the centre. Aragorn blinked, the light was gone and he dismissed it returning to his desk.
There desparately he moved the papers on his desk around, trying to find something, anything to occupy and distract him from this afternoon's event and the pitiful sounds outside his door. He knew the serch was fruitless however, he had completed this weeks work earlier and there was nothing, nothing save one unopened letter that he had dismissed earlier due to its lack of offical markings.
It was marked however on the reverse side, three times infact.
A letter from the Shire, his heart rejoiced.
"Dear Strider" it began in a somewhat illegible handwriting. The word Strider had been crossed out several times and replaced by King Elessar, but then this too had been scribbled over and the letter was once more addressed to Strider. It was as if the writer had been unable to decide which greeting was proper and had therefore put down both, just to be sure. Aragorn suspected that the letter had been written by 3 people, 3 hobbits infact, and there had been some disagreement about his title.
He grinned, without realizing it his diminutive friends had helped him once more. The pain in his heart lessened and he looked back down at the letter.
The bulk of it seemed to have been written by Pippin, and his hurried srawl dominated most of the page. However there were many footnotes from Merry and Samwise, whenever Pippin forgot something which happened unsurprisingly often.
It mainly detailed what was going on in Hobbiton and the Shire. Their new responsiblities were stated and almost endless descriptions of rustic family life [mainly Sam's] were included. As Aragorn had noticed on his last visit to the Shire, everyone seemed to be related to everyone else and so there were almost as many stories about Merry's 2nd cousin 3 times removed as there were about Elanor, Sam's eldest daughter.
It was mainly cheerful nonsence but the last paragraph caught his eye. Like most of the the letter it had been written by Pippin.
"That's about all that's been happening here. Truth be told it's really quite [here the word boring had been deleted in favour of] peaceful here. Just remember if you ever need our help, if you ever find it too "peaceful" being king you can always call on us.
We've also included something else. It was my idea, although Merry made it. [I] We think you'll like it.
All our love
Pippin, Merry and Sam.
[Thain, Master and Mayor, respectivly]"
Aragorn shook the letter but nothing fell out. Once again he hunted through his desk and produced a small brown package marked "Private, for the king's eyes only"
Gently Aragorn untied the string. Inside was a modest painting of the Fellowship.
Smiling he set it upon his desk and examined the faces of those dearest to him.
Some had sailed away never to return or perished in their task, some lived miles away never to be seen, and some, some lived in his very castle. Or rather they had done until he had banished them without a second thought.
In the portrait Legolas stood with one arm around a stupidly grinning Aragorn's neck, the other hand on Frodo's shoulder, a quirky smile playing over his lips and a rougish twinkle in his eye.
As he looked at the pciture Aragorn wept again as he saw what he had become, the embodiment of all he had hated back when the picture had been imagined, a king with a heart of stone and little need for companionship and love.
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