Aravan {A Lord of the Rings Story}

T•W•E•N•T•Y

A/N: Here's a little filler meanwhile for you guys :) So, I must ask about your reactions to chapter 19: were you surprised? Were you suspecting it? Were you upset or happy, or some other emotion? I'm super curious! Please let me know your thoughts :D That being said, here's chapter 20!

T•W•E•N•T•Y

Aragorn sat in the King’s Hall with his head resting in his palms. Everyone had already retired for the evening, but he could find no desire for sleep. He was too troubled. Thoughts of Frodo and Sam plagued him. Where were they now? Were they safe? Were they carrying on? And not only did the young hobbits possess his mind, but also the girl, Artanis. Never once had she acted so comfortable as to embrace him for anything. But that night, she did, and nothing special was happening. It was simply a goodnight. Or, so he thought, until he saw the pain in her smile and the water in her eyes.

He sighed and stood from his place, the worry becoming too much for him to ignore. He decided that he would go check on her, just to be sure she was all right. And so, he withdrew from the hall and strode into the night. Ash and rubble still littered the ground, giving image to the destruction that had taken place. But the stars twinkled brilliantly and the moon shone bright, giving image to the hope that they possessed for the future. He smiled a little, momentarily setting aside his burdens to remember the promise of the better days ahead: days of peace and prosperity. The face of Arwen crossed through his mind as it had so many times in the past, after they had departed from Rivendell. He felt a slight tug in his chest, but closed his eyes, rubbed the Evenstar with his thumb, and reminded himself that he would see her again.

Aragorn found himself in a long hallway with large wooden doors lining both sides. He proceeded to walk through it, all the way until the end, where he found Artanis’s door directly across from Gandalf’s. He raised a fist and gently knocked upon the wood.

‘Artanis?’ he called softly, resting his forehead against the door. ‘Are you in there?’

He heard no response. Raising an eyebrow, he continued on to turn the knob and enter the room, once again calling, ‘Artanis?’

To his great surprise, he found the room completely empty. The bed was made, as if it had never been touched, the balcony doors were closed, and there was no sign of any personal belongings, such as clothing or travel supplies or weapons. Frowning, he moved further into the room, thinking that she might be somewhere else, but she was nowhere to be found. He furrowed his brow and turned to leave the room, supposing that he might find her in the Houses of Healing with her friends, but something caught his eye just before he exited. Sitting on the bed was a large book, opened to the middle. Its pages were brittle and yellowed from having seen many years pass by. The binding was fragile and weak. He moved toward it and picked it up, wondering why this book would be here if nothing else, not even the room’s occupant, was.

‘The Legend of Aravan,’ he murmured to himself, reading the words that were scrawled across the top of the page. He subconsciously traced his fingers along the edge of the binding as he began to read. And the moment he did, he gripped the book harder and his eyes grew large and frantic. With every word that his eyes passed over, his heart began to race faster and faster in shock.

‘Artanis!’ he said urgently, dropping the book to the floor and whirling on his heel. He stopped short in his tracks upon seeing Gandalf in the doorway.

‘Where is she?’ he demanded.

Gandalf frowned and shook his head. ‘I am sorry, Aragorn. She has already gone.’

With eyes wide, Aragorn turned back into the room, flung the balcony doors open, and leaned against the railing, gaping in disbelief. Gandalf followed after him silently. He watched as Aragorn stared blankly at the landscape before them, shock written all over his weary face.

‘Gone,’ he repeated solemnly.

Gandalf nodded. ‘She left quite some time ago.’

Aragorn took a shaky breath. ‘You knew?’

He nodded once more. ‘Yes, I knew.’

‘Why was no one informed of this?’

‘Aravan wished that her identity go unannounced. She did not wish to cause anyone any pain or surprise.’

‘She never meant to tell anyone…ever?’

Gandalf frowned. ‘She knew that it would be easier. The legend clearly states that there won’t be an “ever” for her.’

Aragorn sighed deeply, dropping his head in defeat. ‘She’s my sister,’ he stated quietly, remorse explicitly laced in his voice. Gandalf placed a hand on his arm.

‘I know.’

‘I will never get a chance to know her as such…’

‘I know.’

Aragorn lifted his head and looked sorrowfully at the black mountains rimming the circumference of Mordor, knowing that not only were his friends headed there, but now his sister was headed there also.

‘Aravan,’ he breathed despondently. Gandalf looked on with him mournfully, never taking his hand back from his arm. And there they stayed through the darkness, their minds plagued with the fate of their treasured companions.