The Forbidden Child

Mother, May I?

Estel dismounted his horse and led it to the stables, leaving it there to be taken care of by the stable boys of the community, whom were not yet old enough to ride out themselves.

Nodding his appreciation to the younger boys, Estel left the stables.

As soon as he exited, a small gaggle of little children swarmed around him.

"Strider! Strider! Did you go to Rivendell? Did you go to the place of the elves?" One particularly loud child asked.

"Shh! Keep your voice down!" Estel warned and crouched down.

A girl, maybe six, whispered, "Did you visit that princess you tell us about in your stories?"

"Did you ask her to marry you?" Rhar, a little boy, added.

Estel, realizing that these children were clever enough to figure that his "stories" were not just that, gave in. He sighed inwardly, rolling his eyes and acted as if they were just silly little children with whimsies to please their minds, but his lips quirked in a little smile that gave it all away.

The eldest child among the dwindling numbers of the Dunedain, a thirteen-year-old girl named Nydiran, joined in. "Oh, Strider! How romantic!" she exclaimed with clasped hands.

"Now what could my son be telling you that is so romantic, Nydiran?" a voice interrupted.

Estel stood from his crouch, recognizing immediately the words of his mother. "They are just stories, Mother," he replied, his voice cold.

"Gilraen! Gilraen! Strider tells the best of stories. Of a beautiful maiden imprisoned by her wicked father," the younger girl spoke up again, tugging on the woman's skirt.

"Wicked father, eh?" Gilraen questioned, maintaining piercing eye contact with her son.

"Uh," Estel found he was having a difficult time tearing his gaze from his mother's. "Children, be off, I have some things I need to take care of."

They all scuttled off on command, casting sideways glances at Estel and his mother as children would look at a guilty peer.

There were only a handful of Dunedain children living in the Angle. Usually, residents cherished and adored the children, as they were so few of them. Not Gilraen. She saw them as tolerable and obviously recognized the benefit of continuing the Dunedain line but Estel theorized she was simply bitter over not being able to have more children of her own.

Gilraen embraced her son. The embrace was warm and loving, unlike the few words they had shared since Estel's return. "Welcome home, my son," she murmured into his broad shoulder before she broke away.

Estel offered her his arm, which she took, and the two began to walk. "So, how do you like the Angle so far, Mother?"

The Angle was situated between rivers Hoarwell and Loudwater in the large region Eriador and, though it was now where Estel's housing was settled, it was not what he called home. He suspected his mother felt the same.

"It is no Rivendell, that is certain. The company here is simply unacceptable. I cannot afford the luxuries I could in Rivendell." Gilraen looked at her son now. "But these are my people and I am at peace to be among them, as you should be."

Estel tensed beside her.

"What I wish to know, Strider, is where have you been? You have been absent for months with nothing to excuse you."

"Mother, do not act surprised. After leaving Imladris and coming here, you should know that I will often be off traveling. It is simply the way of our people to be secluded. If you must know, I was down about the Shire, patrolling the borders there. Packs of orcs are showing up everywhere. Mallyn tells me that a few raids have been reported down in Gondor, two villages burnt to the ground."

Gilraen did not so much as blink at this news. "You are telling me that for six months, you were patrolling the borders of a tiny little country. Nothing else?"

Estel hesitated. "I went to Imladris," he admitted.

"Strider! You must be jesting! You know you are not supposed to go back there! Not after you so horribly offended Elrond!" Gilraen paused. "Oh dear. Do not tell me you went back there to see Arwen!"

Deciding there was no reason to hide anything, Estel outed himself. "That is precisely the reason why I went there," he replied.

Gilraen pulled away from his arm. "Strider, that makes the whole occurrence itself worse. How many times must I tell you that Elrond does not approve of the match? Nor do I! And if Elrond does not approve of the match, then the match will not be made. His favouring you is already damaged after you ran away like a little boy a few years ago. I do not understand why the news was so disturbing to you, Strider! You are one of a long line of kings, you and I went to Rivendell to train you for such a placement, but you had to go and ruin it and run away when hearing of responsibility. You must never see Arwen again. Elrond will kill you. He was already upset enough, he asked that I leave Rivendell. Politely, of course, but him asking me was a message in itself.

"Besides, even if Elrond was not furious with you and even if I favoured the match, a relationship between elf and man is doomed! My son, my son, I do not wish to lose you like I lost your poor father. I just wish for my people to be at peace again, restored as nobility in Gondor. You are the only way the Dunedain will be at justice. The only way that the kingdom of Gondor will survive what has come, what is yet to come. Why must you make it so hard for me? You are supposed to be our hope. Elrond named you Estel for a reason. Estel means-"

Here, Estel cut off the incessant rambling of his mother.

"Mother, I asked Arwen to marry me."

Shocked silence on one end.

It seemed as if the trees leant in to hear the wise Gilraen's response to Estel's outrageous statement. The world held its breath.

It seemed hours later when Gilraen answered, "My son, you have just doomed the world."

"I do not carry the fate of the world on my shoulders."

"Oh, Aragorn," Gilraen began, using Estel's birth name for the first time in his life. "But you do."