Thanksgiving by My blue rose

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Chapter Three: Gift Offering

Chapter Three: Gift Offering

“Offer unto God a sacrifice of thanksgiving and pay thy vows unto the most High.”~ Psalm 50:14

7th of Ringarë, 3019th year of the Third Age, Steward’s Reckoning:

“Would you give Him my thanks for this favor?” Aragorn asked, feeling as if he should be kneeling, wet floor or no.

“That is not necessary. Our Lord Eru hears your prayers as readily as He hears mine, Child.”

Aragorn nodded and, closing his eyes, gave a brief prayer of thanks. He felt the Elder King place a hand on his shoulder. Opening his eyes, Aragorn managed not to flinch or back away, his back rigid. The Elder King frowned.

“I spoke truly when I said I meant you no harm, Child. Be at peace.” He said the last words as a command, and he squeezed his shoulder before removing his hand.

Aragorn felt himself relax as his fear left him. He stared at the Elder King, wondering if he had ensorcelled him.

“I have not bewitched you, Child. I am merely preventing you from feeling your own fear. Your will is still your own.”

“Thank you, my lord,” he said quietly. “But I would ask you to allow me to experience my fear.”

The Elder King looked uncomprehendingly at him. “Why do you want such a thing, Child?”

“Because it is mine own. True courage is not the absence of fear, but doing what must be done even when you are terrified.”

The Elder King was silent for several long moments; then he sighed.

“You are wiser than I in this matter, I deem. I must once again ask for your forgiveness for my thoughtlessness, Child. I should not have intervened in such a manner without your permission. Know that I only did so because I wished you unafraid in my presence.”

“I understand and am grateful, my lord. As I said before, no forgiveness is required for no offence was intended.”

Aragorn felt his fear return to him, but it seemed lesser than it had been before.

“What do your people think of their new King?” Lord Manwë asked. “It has been a thousand years since they last had one, has it not?”

“Yes, my lord.” Aragorn was surprised by the question and that the Elder King was aware of how long it had been.

“Why do you think me unconcerned with the fates of Men, Child? Are they not also under my purview as King of Arda?” The Vala chided gently.

“Yes, my lord. Forgive me.” Aragorn felt embarrassed that he had always assumed the Elder King to be mostly concerned with Elves.

“A wise man has said, no forgiveness is required for no offence was intended,” the Vala replied, wryly.

Half-smiling, Aragorn nodded his head and considered the question for a moment before he replied.

“Most of my people rejoice that their King has returned to them. The common folk have particularly longed for my coming, and all of the Lords of the Realm have acknowledged my authority and have sworn their fealty to me. Yet…some of the minor lords contest my claim and continue see me as a usurper from the North.”

“What have you done to them for their rejection of your claim, Child?”

Aragorn shrugged. “I have done nothing to them, my lord. They are free to believe what they will as long as it harms none. As long as they give deference to me in public I care not what they say about me in private.”

“A wise decision, but is it one you might come to regret?”

“Perhaps, but I must do what I think is right.”

There was silence in the chamber, the only sound came from the crackling fire on the altar.

“Is there anything else you wish to speak with me about, my lord?” Aragorn asked.

The Elder King smiled. “I have found what I was looking for. Truly, I wished to know what kind of Man the King of Gondor and Arnor is. Now that I know you are indeed worthy of the Throne of your forefathers, I wish you to have this, Child.”

He pressed something small and warm into Aragorn’s hand. It was a ring. It was made of mithril and on it was the image of an eagle with its wings outstretched. Its claws griped a sapphire of the deepest blue. It was beautiful; the eagle was so detailed that he could trace the individual feathers on its wings.

“Why are you giving this to me, lord?”

“So that when you tell those whom dispute your authority about our conversation, you have some evidence to prove it indeed took place.” The Elder King sounded amused once more.

Aragorn frowned. He had been intending to tell no one of this conversation, save perhaps his wife and Faramir.

“King Elessar,” The Elder King said solemnly. Aragorn felt himself stand straighter at his tone.

“I wish you to have this ring as a token that I and my fellow Valar recognize you as the rightful King of the Reunited Realm.” he turned to look at the smoldering offering on the altar. “And we are not the only ones, Child.”

“Thank you, my lord.” sliding the ring onto his fourth finger, Aragorn was unsurprised to find that it fit perfectly.

Looking up, he realized that he was alone in the chamber once more. He stood there watching the fire on the altar smolder for some time, fingering his new ring. Aragorn then retrieved his pack from where he had placed it on the floor. Shouldering it, he took one last look at the room before he sealed the door.

Standing on the ledge that formed the entrance to the Hallow, once more, Aragorn looked out at the lands below. At the White City, brilliant in the midday Sun. At the shimmering ribbon that was the Great River. At the fields ravaged by war only months ago, now rich and fallow or green with cover crop. And at the Sea, sparkling in the distance like gold threads broidering a blue cloak.

“I am grateful for all that has been given to me,” he said softly, and began the descent down the mountain.

 

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