Aragorn admonishes himself.
Gondor’s king, but Arnor still in disarray. He must earn the Scepter before he has the right to Arwen’ s hand.
The crowd cheers, sound swelling as the concourse of elves draws near. He could not demand of the messengers,
Only Arwen claims his attention as Elrond leads her forward. A moment passes before Aragorn realizes the warmth of his love’s hand is balanced by the cool smoothness of the rod.
“I am not so cruel,” Elrond whispers.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.