Throne of Stone -II- Book Three of the Tales of the Fourth Age Series

Chapter Three

Fo.A 2, March 4th

Captain Tachion sat in what used to be Dalion's cell, enveloped in darkness, with the sickly smell of blood assaulting his nose. He'd been informed once he'd awoken that he had taken Dalion's place for the execution tomorrow. I've failed you, Ninel...I've failed.

He sighed and hung his head. He should never have accepted the position as Captain of the King's Guard, then he wouldn't be in this mess, and his sister wouldn't be in danger. He cursed his brother for pushing him and himself for listening.

The darkness ate at his sanity; Fed on his guilt.

Light footsteps sounded in the hall, and the flickering light of a torch cast shadows on the wall. Tachion stood and walked over to the bars and was taken aback to see his queen walking gracefully towards his cell. Within moments she stood before, he deep blue eyes looking like the ocean depths in the low light. She was alone, dressed in a simple burgundy dress and a delicate silver circlet upon her brow.

"My Queen, what are you doing here?" Tachion asked, his eyes downcast.

"I heard about your sister," Arwen replied, her voice low.

"I'm sure that is not all you have heard," said Tachion, walking to the back of the cell and sitting once more.

"A person may do many things that would go against their better nature if pushed far enough." Her voice carried no hint of accusation.

Tachion looked at her, knowing her meaning. "Why have you come?" he asked again.

"You've done me a great service in keeping our secret, Tac," she said softly, sadness edging into her voice. She took a deep breath. "I've come to offer you a chance to save your sister."

His heart skipped a beat at the mention of their secret, and then again when the full weight of her words hit him. He jumped up and ran to the bars, his voice low and desperate. "You know where she is then?"

Arwen shook her head. "No, but you do."

Tachion's hope faltered. "I needed Dalion, but he's dead. My sister's fate is sealed."

"What if you had someone who was more valuable than Dalion?" asked Arwen, stepping closer to the bars.

"Who could possibly have more value than him?" asked Tachion skeptically.

Arwen's voice came as barely a whisper. "How about the king of Gondor?"

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"You said what!?" roared Aragorn, pacing back and forth in a rage.

"I offered our help," replied Arwen cooly. "Don't pretend like you were not already thinking of doing the same thing," she added.

Aragorn shot her a glare but then took a deep breath. He had been thinking of something like that if only to find out more about what the Black Tree was.

Arwen got up from the couch and lovingly stroked his face. "I know you well, my husband. You love your people and strive to do right by them." She smiled. "I suspected you would be thinking of a way to help Captain Tachion."

Finally, Aragorn smiled. Oh, how he loved his wife. He leaned his forehead against hers, closing his eyes. "I don't know what I would do without you," his whispered lovingly.

Arwen laughed softly. "I do not know, either."

Aragorn wrapped her up in his arms and twirled her around, smiling. She gasped and laughed; this was the Aragorn she knew, not the one who was weighed down by the crown he bore.