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Subject: The flute and the necklace


Author:
Aragorn
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Date Posted: 12:31:53 04/27/02 Sat

The king lay in the darkness, under silken sheets, Nam�n next to him breathing softly.

Night had come and it was silent, save for the calls of owls out hunting.

Rolling towards the girl he whispered her name "Nam�n?" but she was asleep, a curl of lusterous hair clasped in one hand, a slight smile upon her face.

He did not feel like smiling; the enormatity of their actions striking him for the first time, the guilt overpowering.

He still wore her necklace, it's mithril chain seemed to be choking him, in anguish he rose from the bed and unclasped it. The opal winked at him and Aragorn fought down the urge to throw away this last reminder of his wife's love.

Instead he dressed quickly, quiet as the shadows that lurked in his soul, careful not to wake Nam�n who moaned softly in her sleep. Rumaging through the drawers he found what he was looking for and left the room, almost running down the unlit passages until he reached the courtyard where the white tree stood, its blossoms closed against the night time chill.

He sat beneath the slender branches and pulled the necklace from his pocket, Arwen's face and Nam�n's appeared.

Nam�n had saved him from destroying himself due to despair at Arwen's absence but she had introduced a new threat, one far more deadly. He heard the leaves swish above him, the sound of a woman's tears, the hoots of a passing owl, the squeak of its prey, the tears again. The delicate object in his hand sparkled in the moonlight and he reinstated it to its rightful place around his neck.

Even if Arwen did not love him he could not deny what was in his heart: he loved her. He loved Nam�n too but in a different way, the desparate love the springs up when faced by conflict and saddness, the love that disobeys reason and throws caution to the wind. But with Arwen...the deep bond of husband and wife...the alignment of their spirits...Aragorn, I'm pregnant.

He lifted the flute he had taken from the drawers in his other hand and started to play with a practiced ease. The sweet eyrie music caught on the night's breeze and was carried away across the courtyard and into the darkness beyond.

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