The world is changing.
The Éadig family has resided on the Meduseld estate for generations. Once a clan of wealthy benefactors and socialites, the 21st century has seen the contents of the family bank account shrink and the strength of their home a...
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"My tongue will tell the anger of my heart, or else my heart concealing it will break." - William Shakespeare, The Taming of the Shrew.
It was raining.
He wasn't quite sure when it had started, but he had noticed when it had grown heavy enough for him to turn on the windscreen wipers of the unfamiliar car. A brief moment of fumbling that had ended with Théadain leaning over silently to twist a control behind the steering wheel.
That had been back on the outskirts of the city, over an hour ago. Théadain was asleep now, her head resting against her window as the glass was pelted with droplets. Her breath misted on the cool surface as she steadily inhaled and exhaled. She looked peaceful, Aragorn thought as he glanced over routinely to check on her, each time the car jostled over a pothole on the country lane that was swiftly turning into a muddy river.
He didn't remember hearing that a storm was coming, but then again, he hadn't been paying attention to much that morning - occupied as he had been with thoughts of the meeting. Now though, it was almost a relief to only have to focus on the road ahead, casting glances at the blackening clouds above or the swaying trees on either side of the lane as they were buffeted by the strengthening wind. It meant he didn't have to think about how he had failed her.
He was furious with himself. When they had been left alone in the boardroom it had taken all of his will not to yell out in frustration. He had wanted to kick something, to be perfectly honest. He didn't lose his composure often, but he had been sorely tempted to break a few toes against that ostentatious marble conference table.
He hadn't, of course. Because she had needed him. Another glance to where Théadain was nestled under his suit jacket chased away any thoughts of an outburst. He was glad she was resting, after she had tried so determinedly to hide how shaken she was by the meeting that morning, she had at last relented to those emotions. As they had driven through the city streets she had cried quietly, save for a few sniffs and shaking inhales, but even those sounds were enough to wrench at Aragorn's heart. When he was able, he had reached over to take her hand, squeezing her fingers gently in a silent reassurance that he was there. They hadn't spoken since he had gotten into the car - he honestly didn't know what to say yet.
When the gates of the Meduseld Estate at last loomed before him out of the rain, he couldn't decide if he was relieved or dreading the conversation that would come when they arrived - primarily he wasn't looking forward to getting out of the car to open the gate.
He stepped out as quietly as he could, grimacing as his foot immediately landed in a deep puddle, soaking up the leg of his trousers and seeping into his shoe. It took all of three seconds for his hair to be plastered to his head by the relentless rain, his white shirt drenched and clinging to his skin before he'd even opened the gate. With a weary sigh, he turned back to get into the car, frowning in confusion as he heard a door slam and looked up to see Théadain stepping out of the passenger side.
