Seeds of the White Tree

Chapter 3 - The Great Council of Gondor

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By far the least entertaining part of any meeting of the Great Council of Gondor was the preamble. That was, at least, in the High King's humble opinion. Trying to cultivate a little bit of his eldest daughter's preternatural patience Aragorn quietly sighed and straightened his shoulders. Politics and governing he could abide as necessary evils of kingship. All the trimmings of decorum that went with it he could happily leave though.

The Great Council met once a turn of the moons in the Dome of the Sun in the Sixth Circle of Minas Tirith. The Great Council had been an enduring feature of the kingdom of Númenor in its glory days, but had fallen into ruin with the coming of Sauron. After his coronation Aragorn had re-instated the Council, and formed it from all the great lords of the realm. Elphir, son of Imrahil sat for the Princedom of Dol Amroth, Éowyn sat as the Lady of Ithilien (Faramir as Steward held the position of Council Moderator and so could not compromise his impartiality), Legolas sat for the Elves of Ithilien, and numerous other lords and ladies for each of the regions of Gondor and Arnor. Representation from Rohan was also present on this occasion; namely King Éomer, Queen Lothíriel and Gimli, Lord of the Glittering Caves. All told there were one hundred and twelve seated around the council table beneath the gleaming arc of the Dome of the Sun.

The ring of Barahir's emerald eyes winked up at Aragorn from his hand where it rested on the polished tabletop. The twin snakes almost seemed to be laughing at his mounting boredom. Ah, how his hand itched to grasp Andúril, the sword of his ancestors. How aive he had felt in those days of the Fellowship, how vital! Aragorn remained tall and hale at well over a century old, his grey eyes as clear as they had ever been. There were streaks of silver in his hair now beneath the crown of Gondor, and furrows had begun to edge their way into the lines of his brow. Cloaked in black and red with the white tree upon his breast Aragorn still cut an impressive figure at the head of the table.

Glancing at Arwen where she sat at his right, Aragorn thought his wife had worn the years better than himself. The slight softness beneath her midnight blue gown bespoke of the bearing of their four beloved children, each one as strong and healthy as the last. Arwen may have renounced her immortality, but in many ways she retained evidence that she had been born a daughter of the Eldar. Her voice still rang with the music of silver bells, and that secret smile lingered in the corner of her mouth. If age and mortality had changed the queen, Aragorn found those changes all the more endearing for having seen those years at her side.

Aragorn did not begrudge aging for its own sake, nor for the loss of his prime as a warrior. He mourned only for the reminder it served that one day this life he and Arwen had built together would end. It seemed a waste to spend even a minute of that precious time left to them listening to speeches and dealing with formalities. If it were in Aragorn's power he would have stolen away Arwen and their children for a day out riding by the River Anduin together. Then his gaze fell once more upon his rough, scarred hands and he remembered how hard-won this kingly boredom had been. Marshalling his powers of self-discipline Aragorn tried to re-focus. Briefly he sparred a wistful thought for memories of the Dúnedain and their fireside councils.

"The Great Council of Gondor, High King Aragorn Elessar and High Queen Arwen Undomíel recognize the delegation from Rohan, and bid welcome to King Éomer, Lord of the Mark and Queen Lothíriel. The kinship and allegiance between the realms of Gondor and Rohan..."

Aragorn did his noble best not to give Faramir a 'look' as the Steward rattled off a detailed monologue to the council. Sometimes it seemed as though the Prince of Ithilien relished his duties as Council Moderator a bit too much. Aragorn and Faramir had built a strong foundation together as King and Steward over the years. To say that Faramir was above using that mutual respect to enjoy a little fun at Aragorn's expense from time to time would taste of a lie though. The most fundamental difference between the two men was that Faramir was a scholar at heart, while Aragorn would remain a ranger in his bones till the end of his days.