| Subject: The breakup (finally) |
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Aragorn/Namün
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Date Posted: 22:24:28 01/27/03 Mon
The sobbing form of Namün clung to the coarse sheets of her bed. Each cry racked her slight body and for a moment he wanted to go to her, to hold her.
The moment passed.
That time had passed.
“Namün,” she looked up, cheeks streaked with tears. “I don’t think of you as my lap dog.” He tried for a grin but it died on his face.
“I don’t want to talk about this right now,” she said flatly.
"We don't always get what we want," he reminded her, seating himself on the bed. "In fact I might even go so far as to say we almost never get what we want. In this case you don't want to talk to me, the situation is however unavoidable. I am here and we are having a conversation." He scanned her face in a vain effort to deduce anything from her expression.
There was nothing. Nothing but pain.
The guilt over whelmed him and he stood and moved away. "Cannyc informs me he has told you I plan to leave the city as soon as is feasible."
He broke off struggling for the words that refused to come at his call. "I do not know how long I shall be gone. I didn't want to go without seeing you first." Without saying goodbye
"You shouldn't have bothered," she muttered shakily, "It's not as if it will make a difference. I don't exist, remember?"
"Your words, not mine!" he sparked back, rounding on her, forgetting momentarily the reason for his visit. "If you insist on behaving like a child can you honestly blame me for occasionally treating you as one?"
"When have I ever behaved like a child? Tell me that, Elessar. If you seek for the infant, look to your own door. It holds a mirror to your face!" she spat at him, finally raising a face to his that flashed an angry challenge.
"You're calling me a child?" he bellowed, incensed. "I came down here to have a civilised conversation with you, apparently that was too high an expectation. Instead I find you having a temper tantrum!" He tried to collect himself and failed. "Look again in that mirror Namün. Who's the child?"
"The one who hides who he really is!" she screamed back, all rational thoughts long since abandoned. "The one who locks himself behind honour, and tradition, and duty, and allows himself to be smothered because he lacks the courage to go against the masses! The one who hides me away like a guilty secret, yet urges others to stand up and take responsibility for their actions! If we stand here like this today, it is not because I didn't try. You hold my heart, yet it has no more worth to you than the clothes I stand in. It truly is a case of out of sight, out of mind. Is my body not enough for you, that I must return to find another woman in your bed?"
"I have no idea what you are talking about," he growled. "And let me assure you, I wish that it were a case of out of sight, out of mind. If I thought it were, I would have made my exit some time ago and you would be but a distant memory. As it is you mean enough for me to remain in the humiliating situation a while longer. But beware, madam, you can push me little further."
"And so the wise and noble king resorts to threats now, does he? "Do you think I fear your wrath?!"
His hand moved like lightening, flashing round and catching her wrist in an iron grip. He leant in close to her so she could not miss the message in his eyes and hissed, "You should."
Their eyes locked, his angry, threatening, yet sorrowful; hers aflame with a wild fury that beat itself vainly against his stony exterior. Slowly, the anger drained from her face.
“Don’t…”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t make me do this now. You don’t understand.”
“Then why don’t you try to explain it to me?”
“I can’t.”
“Then don’t expect me to understand!” he yelled.
Namün tried to ignore a wince of pain as his fingers tightened on her arm. “I don’t,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”
She looked down, swallowed, then looked up again tentatively. "I didn't mean what I said- any of it. I was just angry.
I didn't realise what I was saying."
"You did and both you and I know you meant it." He released her arm, dismayed to see the prints of his fingers burning red around her wrist. Traitorous eyes moved her shoulder where the mark of those who took what they wanted from life was still visible through the gauze of her shirt.
"This is what happens without you," he murmured distraught, and moved quickly away from the girl who was not Arwen. "I am nothing."
“Aragorn-“ she began hesitantly, then stopped. This was it. The two of them trembled on the brink of an abyss, and she could pull them back, and face the consequences of what followed, or let them fall.
All she had to do was say the words. Two words, and that would be it, their lives would be inextricably linked. Not, perhaps, as lovers; they had gone too far for that already. But they would be bound. Yes, she loved him, but how long before the bonds became shackles? How could they be anything but, when he loved another?
Yet to stay silent- she would lose not only him, but her life. She would have to leave the city, find a place where nobody knew her, begin again. Alone. And can I do it? Am I strong enough to bring up a child on my own, and never let anybody know the truth?
I don’t think so.
But then he turned, and she saw his face, and knew everything. Knew what he was about to tell her. Knew that he could never know the truth, and what she had to do. What she had to say.
“This isn’t working, is it?”
And she was falling…
“You’re leaving.” More of a statement than a question. The answer was written too plainly. “To find your wife?”
Slowly, agonisingly, he nodded.
“I…” he swallowed. “I am so sorry.”
He couldn’t look at her, at her face carefully blank to hide the pain he knew she must be feeling. “She’s dying…” he looked back at Namün, knowing she deserved to hear what came next. Her lower lip trembled and he swallowed the words: I love her. “I have to go to her.”
“I know,” she told him, feeling numb. “You- you need her. I am not so blinded that I cannot see how you die without her.”
There was nothing he could say. He could not deny what the both knew to be true; it was too late now. “I expected…”
“You expected what? That I would weep and wail?” She looked away, the effort of self-control vast. “I won’t say it isn’t on my mind. But you won’t see me cry again Aragorn, I can promise you that.”
“I should probably go,” the warrior king found himself muttering.
She sat down on the bed and stared at her hands, trying to put thoughts into words. “I was only twelve when I first saw you, you know. The city was under siege, and the people were so sure that everything was lost, and we would die that day. And I was frightened, because I had seen so little, and I didn’t want to die. But I was angry too, because they were invading my home and there was nothing I could do about it except wait. And then you came with your army, and the star on your brow and the banner of kings, and you pushed them back and we were saved. The people were shouting that the line of Elendil had returned, and you would bring glory back to Gondor. I didn’t think you looked any different from any other man at first. But then the Lady Undomiel arrived, and you looked different. You looked so strong, and as if nothing could ever defeat you, or stop you from doing what was right, or bringing peace and happiness to her. That’s what true love is, isn’t it?”
“I doubt I am a good judge of that any more.”
“Don’t be so sure.”
Namün looked up through where the tumbled curtain of her hair framed her face. She was young…too young. “How long will you be gone?”
“I can’t be sure.”
She nodded, “I’ll be gone by the time you get back.”
“You don’t have to leave.”
"Of course I do. Do you really think your wife will accept me here? If things are to work for you I have to be away from here altogether. There isn't any other way."
Neither spoke for a moment. "I'm so sorry. This wasn't how it was supposed to be."
“What did you expect?”
His face grew wistful but no words followed. The real answer would only cause her additional pain. "Let’s just say, something different."
"You still have time. Maybe you can still find it."
"Thankyou." A grateful smile emerged. "Sometimes I forget what a wonderful person you are Namün. You deserve better than an aging monarch with a heart of stone."
"Myself, I think the reverse. But what we deserve is often very different from what we get. And I wouldn't have chosen any different, you know."
He grinned boyishly, forgetting for a moment what they were discussing and the terrible circumstances that faced him. "You made a bad decision my dear. Perhaps you aren't perfect after all."
He leaned in to kiss her cheek but thought better of it and withdrew. "I have to go." He opened the door and was almost out of it before he remembered something and turned back again. "Please don't leave the city entirely. The hospital should be finished in a months time and I'm sure they'll appreciate it if their head-nurse paid a visit occasionally. Good luck Namün. You deserve it."
The door closed.
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