Maeve of Sylvania

It was later when they were sitting around the fire and gazing at the stars, that Aragorn saw a look of great sadness steal across Maeve's face.

"What is it? Are you ill?" he asked with concern.

Sighing, Maeve explained that it had been her brother who had taught her how to read the night sky, her brother whom she now searched for.

"My family serves the Royal family of Sylvania. Growing up, I was the companion of the eldest princess who died of a strange illness long before her prime. My brother and I were very close and he taught me many skills. He had become a knight in the king's guard. One night, the castle was attacked by an enemy unfamiliar to us. Alaric was taken prisoner along with others from our village. I am searching for him now and hope to receive aid from Mirkwood. I must find him!"

Hiding her face in her hands, Maeve burst into tears. Aragorn came over to her and drew her into his arms. She apologized, "I'm sorry...it's just that I miss him so much...it's as if a part of my heart is gone." He stroked her hair and murmured comforting words as she sobbed. She quieted, lifting her eyes to his. He gently wiped her tear-streaked face, then softly kissed her brow. She melted against him as he continued kissing her, gently at first, then with growing passion.

She had never felt so safe and secure as his arms tightened their embrace. Desire stirred within her. His hands ran over her and she caught a glimpse of the ring he wore. Maeve gasped as she realized why it seemed familiar. It was the ring of Barahir...the man who held her was Isildur's Heir! A lover of history and lore, Maeve knew that meant a great destiny awaited him, and also that his true love and happiness would come from the House of Elrond, whether he knew it or not.

Aragorn's caresses intensified as he probed her soft mouth with his tongue. Maeve longed to surrender to the desire building within her. Yet this would not be a harmless night of passion. It could only result in torment for them both! She would not be the one to cause him guilt!

She wrenched herself out of his embrace. "I cannot do this! You are Isildur's Heir, and I will not interfere with your destiny!" Aragorn could only stare with astonishment as Maeve tried to explain. "Your true happiness is in Imladris and I do not wish to be the one to taint that happiness with guilt." Maeve gathered her belongings and went a short distance away to spend the rest of the night alone.

Tense with frustration, Aragorn went to swim in a nearby stream. As he calmed, he realized that Maeve spoke the truth. He was destined to be with Arwen and the memory of betraying that love would have plagued him with guilt. Yet he was still amazed that Maeve had such knowledge of something he himself had only learned a short time ago. Who else knew more about his past than he did? Aragorn sighed as he dried off. There was no sense in pondering all this tonight. Might as well try to sleep. They would soon be at the court of Mirkwood and perhaps Legolas would be able to provide some insight. He hoped Maeve was all right, but thought it best to leave her be...he'd already tried to comfort her once this night and look what had come of that!

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It was plain the next morning that neither of the travelers had slept well. They ate and packed in silence, each avoiding the other's gaze. Finally Aragorn turned to the elf woman. "Maeve, I am truly sorry if I have offended you in any way. I would not have there be enmity between us."

"Dear Aragorn, I bear you no ill will. Indeed, it is I who should seek your forgiveness."

"I forgive you, on one condition...Next time, let me do the cooking!" A mischievous grin spread across his face. Maeve chuckled and they knew all was right between them.

The rest of the day was fair and they took in the forest around them. As Mirkwood appeared, bathed in the golden glow of late afternoon, they became aware of being watched. Why is it that elves are so suspicious? Aragorn wondered.

"It is I, Estel, foster son of Elrond, and friend of Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood. This is Maeve of Sylvania who seeks aid from her kindred."

A voice from the trees replied. "You speak falsely! You wear the ring of Barahir, thus you cannot be other than Aragorn, son of Arathorn...and yet you are a friend indeed!" Legolas appeared with a smile and a welcoming hug for Aragorn. He turned to Maeve and greeted her. "It has been many years since we have heard from Sylvania. You are most welcome and we will provide such assistance as we are able. You both look travel-weary, please feel free to refresh yourselves and then join my father and I for dinner."