Starting Anew

Blood of Old Númenor

With a rueful smile Aragorn leaned his elbows forward on his knees. "I do not shirk my duty Nerwen, you know I do not. But sometimes I think I envy our friend Legolas. Time away from such responsibility as leadership seems to have done him well."

Nerwen chuckled low and rich. "I had worried that his stiff neck would never relax when first he arrived." Sobering, she looked sideways at her cousin and chieftain. "You know, if I were anyone else I would not dare to nag you about such a thing, but one of these days you should think on finding a wife. I cannot be the voice of womanly wisdom to you forever." Eyes flickering to where Radanir was speaking to the farrier and his wife, she smirked. "Every man needs a listening ear to help him sort through his thoughts, and the best thinking is often done in bed."

The surprisingly bawdy joke from his usually serious cousin brought a quirk to the corner of Aragorn's mouth. "You know just as well as I that there are none here in Fornost whom I have an interest in."

"No, but beyond Fornost?" Aragorn nearly jerked in surprise, prompting Nerwen to roll her eyes. "Come now Aragorn, you think I have forgotten the state in which you returned to us after your fostering in Rivendell? A man grown, ripe for leadership, proud, capable and thoroughly besotted. You have never told me, and I have never asked...but who is she?"

Looking away, Aragorn felt his heart plummet into his stomach. The meeting with Elrond's daughter in Rivendell was by far one of his most cherished memories, and one of his most private. He had called out to the maiden as she danced in the moonlight, calling her 'Tinuviel' like one enchanted. When he had asked for her name and she had given it though, Aragorn knew beyond shade of doubt that he was doomed, for he had given his heart now and forever to the daughter of his foster-father; Arwen Undomniel.

As it was, the only answer he could give Nerwen was a short one.

"She is a daughter of the Eldar, and beyond my reach."

If Nerwen was surprised, she made no sign of it. Placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, she squeezed lightly.

"I am sorry Cousin. I should not have asked that which was not my business to know. But..." Turning Aragorn's chin to face her, she searched his face. "...you are of the line of kings of Numenor, the scion of a bloodline both proud and ancient. Fornost has not sheltered our people and our lineage for hundreds of years for naught, I am sure of it. Perhaps this elf lady of yours is not so out of reach as you suppose."

Somehow Aragorn doubted Lord Elrond would be of the same opinion when or if he ever heard of the love he held for his only daughter. Still, he appreciated the sentiment.

"Thank you Nerwen, you words are comforting to me."

"Would that she would spare some of those soft and comforting words for me!" Radanir awkwardly lifted his wooden leg over the bench to sit beside Nerwen. "Although perhaps it is just the beginning of a temporary reprieve; I have heard that women are prone to changes of mood in such condition."

"Condition?" Aragorn raised an eyebrow, not quite sure what Radanir was talking about. A quick glance up and down confirmed that Nerwen looked as straight-backed and healthy as she ever did.

Narrowing her eyes at her husband, Nerwen pulled back her lips from her teeth in what resembled a smile. "Such a reprieve will be better than you deserve for hinting at what is mine to reveal."

Radanir merely shrugged, but the pride that shone in his dark blue eyes as he wrapped an arm around his wife's shoulders gave away what Aragorn was beginning to suspect a moment before Nerwen herself said it.

"It seems I am none so barren as might have been thought." Moving the hem of her cloak aside, she laid her long fingers across her abdomen. A flicker of disquiet passed over her face briefly, long enough for Aragorn to notice it.

"I congratulate you Cousin, you and Radanir both." Aragorn smiled and leaned forward to embrace them both. "Are you...well?" he asked Nerwen directly.

Nodding, Nerwen looked away for a moment. In a low voice she spoke so as not to be overheard by any who still remained in the hall.

"I worry Aragorn. How will I hunt as I progress through the moons? And what of the fact that my child will be born as the cold of winter reaches its harshest zenith?"

Placing his own hand atop Nerwen's on her stomach, Radanir spoke reassuringly. "We can both keep the garden come summer, and that will give us enough to barter for meat when it is needed." The former ranger smiled. "You are a fine huntress my wife, and we have enough salted vension to last us for some time. And you need not stop hunting just yet, if you think we could use more."

"Radanir is right, Cousin." Aragorn chimed in. "Recall that you brought home more game to your table last year that most husbands managed to do for their wives in the village. And as for the timing of your child's arrival, was not my own father born in the depths of December? It hardly seemed to harm him any. If any bairn could survive a winter birth, I would wager it would be one born from your strength."

"Enough, enough!" Holding up her hand in supplication, Nerwen shook her head. "Between the two of you I shall have enough sweet words of reassurance to flavor a cake with!"

Even as Nerwen and Radanir rose and bid Aragorn goodnight, he could not help but feel a slight sense of relief. Though Nerwen was not close kin to himself, she was the closest still living in Fornost. If as he feared his love for the daughter of Elrond came to naught, the line of Numenor need not fail altogether. He would rather see a child of Nerwen and Radanir one day take up chieftainship of the Dunedain than wed a wife he could not give his heart in its entirety to. At least thoughts of Arwen dancing like Luthien herself in the moonlight distracted him from worrying about the rangers in the north.

oOo