Chapter 1: Default Chapter
The hall was dark except for the reflected light from the great hearth. The fireplace held logs longer than a man and blazed with an intense heat that barely touched the chill that filled the room. Part of the chill was from the coldness of winter, but only the physical portion.
Aragorn, King of Gondor slouched on his throne and stared absently into the flames and fiddled with something in his right hand. His privy counsel stood before him and waited, each one hesitant to fill the silence of the room with more than the deceptively merry popping of the burning wood.
After what seemed to be an eternity the king brought his hand up and displayed what he held. Suspended from a silver chain wrapped around callused and scarred fingers hung the Evenstar. The firelight danced upon the silver and gems, giving it almost bloody sheen.
"My Queen", said Aragorn in a low voice, "is gone. She departed Middle- Earth a fortnight ago from the Grey Havens. She has gone to join her family in the Undying Lands." His eyes never left the pendant as he spoke. "She wrote a letter explaining her reasons, the contents of which will remain known only to me. Suffice it to say she was not happy here and is not returning."
He caught the pendant again in his hand, brought it slowly to his lips and then held it to his heart. Straightening his back, he raised his grey eyes first to his chancellor, Arnlaug.
The old man bowed slightly to his king, and stroked his neatly trimmed beard for a moment. It was obvious that he had much to say.
"Out with it, wise one", Aragorn sighed, "Although I can already guess what you will say."
Arnlaug took a step forward and bowed again to his king. "Let me be the first to express my sorrow, my liege." There was a slight pause as Aragorn acknowledged this with a nod. "And as much as you do not wish to hear this, I am bound as your adviser to tell you. You must find another wife. And quickly. Your hold on the throne of Gondor is not as secure as you or I might wish."
Aragorn studied his chancellor closely. The man was almost sixty years of age, but looked not a day over forty. The blood of Numenor still ran in his veins as it did in many of the noble houses of Gondor. Arnlaug's hair shone as a steely grey in the firelight, his stature was tall and noble and his body was still strong and muscled. The man was as valiant in battle as he was wise and honest in counsel, and that made him the most valued of all Aragorn's advisers.
The king raised his eyebrows and looked at his chancellor inquisitively. "But I am Isildur's heir, descended directly from him. No one has a clearer claim to the throne than I." This discussion had been played out many times between the two of them, and they knew each other's arguments and moves intimately.
"Yes. But you have no heir. And with no heir, your throne is not secure." Arnlaug bowed again, this time in apology for what he was about to say. "My Lord, while your lady wife was certainly beautiful to look upon, she refused to provide you with what was most needed. Your people have waited for quickly before your throne is lost to some upstart rival with a house full of brats."
Not responding immediately, Aragorn moved his gaze to the tall, thin, and colorless man at Arnlaug's left. "What say you, Lord Gilby? Do you also feel that I have been remiss in my duties to Gondor?"
Gilby stiffened slightly at the question, but met Aragorn's eyes steadily. "I feel you have carried out your duties to Gondor with distinction and honor in all but this matter, my liege. But I agree that you must have heirs and you must have them soon." Gilby reached a pale hand inside his voluminous sleeve and pulled out a small roll of parchment. "I have taken the liberty of compiling a list of all the eligible maidens of noble birth and legal age in Gondor for your perusal." His bloodless lips compressed themselves into a mirthless smile as he bowed in apology. Lank blond hair flopped over his face and then back. "I fear that we suspected that the Queen would not return from her visit to Ithilien."
Aragorn winced for a moment, but then schooled his face to neutrality and addressed his entire counsel. "I have also put much thought into this, My Lords. I have already decided as well that I must take another wife as quickly as possible. I have also determined that while the blood of Numenor runs in our veins, it also begins to thin. I therefore will take to wife another elf, one of impeccable bloodline and breeding. The addition of one of the fair race into my bloodline will not only strengthen my claim and the claim of my sons to this throne, it will also add to the stability and renown of our fair