A vision lured nearby, like an incessant pounding on the shores, it would not submit.
Mortality would be her undoing; one did not need to look to the stars to foresee this. Now, there seemed to be something more to it, something closer than what she could place. What she could tell, what she could know, there was no hint of what was to come, but Arwen could only live her life and wait for it to present itself. There was no other choice, no other course that could be followed. As the river flowed into the sea, she would ride the waves of destiny to wherever it might lead her.
Violence had begun in Gondor, but it was not limited to the borders of the lands of men. The Dark Lord may have been defeated, but, to the despair of all, his armies and those of the wizard Saruman did not extinguish with their masters. They remained, and they continued to spread darkness.
The Queen of Gondor sat in her gardens, admiring their beauty. Roses bloomed in the unusual autumn heat. If it weren't for the colors on the trees, one would guess it was summer.
"You sit alone thinking of something."
"Yes, I think of what the future holds. This cannot be called Middle Earth for much longer, the tides of change, which take my people away, tell of this. What shall it be?" It was not worry in her face, but honest questioning that shone in her beautiful eyes. As she rose, the flowing white gown she wore caught in the gentle breeze, a striking contrast to her dark, raven hair.
"I know not, Arwen, only that we shall remain together and face it together. You speak of serious thoughts, beloved. I hope that these are not the only things upon which you dwell." Aragorn raised a strong hand to touch her lovely skin. Losing her immortality did not give any affect to her beauty, for she would always be elven.
Arwen rose from the stony bench where she sat. "It is not, Aragorn. Not when so much beauty remains around us. The darkness can not take over, not as long as the sun rises at the beginning of every new day." Her husband gave a slight smile and none of the evils he had seen seemed to alter his looks at this moment. Being together gave him a peace he could not be without lest the terrors of his past consume him.
They remained together in the garden until the sun set that evening and the winds changed direction, heralding the end of the warmth and the beginning of cooler days.
Cooler days there were, and the cold of winter set in with a vengeance, bringing with it extraordinary winds of a cold that would seep straight into one's bones. In was in this winter that a terrible sickness began, a new sickness never before seen in the realm of man, dwarf or elf.
Aragorn distressed over this, for the lands that he rules needed not a disease to further desecrate a population already brought down by sword and arrow.
"The doctors have been able to do nothing, my King." The captain of the guard stood before the king, awaiting an answer of what to do.
"Please separate those who are ill from those who are healthy. It is obvious this new evil spreads on the winds, please see to this, Captain."
"Of course, Your Majesty."
Once more, Aragorn stood alone. In this time, he wished he were back on the trails of the world. Sitting around a campfire with nothing but his horse and the stars to give him company. Free and unbound, but yet, that life missing something. His hands rising to the jewel on his throat, he knew what that former life lacked. His beautiful Evenstar, with her face, her patience and her love, she was what brought him comfort in a reign he never wished to possess.
Wandering in the halls of the palace, he knew where to find his wife. She sat in her favorite wintertime place.
Aragorn smiled from the doorway, "Here you sit, trying to gather as much of the weak winter sun as possible."
The room was expansive, with giant windows that brought in the winter sun and seemed to give some warmth. Pillars of marble added a majestic feel to this, his wife's winter greenhouse.
Turning to face him, she held a plant with wide leaves in her arms, "Just because the winter winds blow doesn't mean that all beautiful things need perish. Some of the more hardy plants may survive if property looked after." A short cough ended her lesson.
"Are you alright, Arwen?"
"It is nothing, just a tickle in my throat." A smile ended the topic. A blowing of the horn at the gate to the city signaled the needing of Aragorn and the ending of the encounter.
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Story notes: This is AU, most of the Elves have left for the Havens, but Gandalf remains at this point having yet to sail. Takes place after the war of the ring, when Aragorn is king of Gondor and happily married to the now mortal Arwen.
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