Author's note: Arwen and Aragorn. The love-struck pair who met in the Garden of Tinuviel and wed 68 years later after a few minor interruptions. But doesn't it seem good luck that they met when Aragorn was 20, a mature enough age to feel the vibrations of passion between them? What if they had met 13 years earlier, when Aragorn was 7 and still called by the name Estel, and Arwen at the adolescent age of 2697? This is what would've happened if Arwen had decided not to stay in Lothlorien any longer and had come home to Rivendell a little earlier than expected.

Hope We Meet Again

Arwen walked slowly along the path leading to her father's house. She savored the fresh smell of the air, free of the insects of Lorien. Everything was green and cheerful. It was good to be back.

"Rivendell," she sighed softly. "Such beauty. Such peace. Such-,"

"Stand and fight, lady! Arrrg!" Someone small but heavy landed with a thud on her back, knocking her down onto the stone path.

"What is-ahhhh!" Arwen yelled as grubby hands pulled at her flowing hair. A piercing voice pealed above her head.

"Intruder! Intruder, Master Elrond! The guards didn't stop her! I have her, Master Elrond! Come and see!"

Arwen saw her father coming down the steps. He was just the same as always. At first he seemed not to see her.

"Estel, what is it? Who have you-?" He caught sight of his daughter. "Arwen! Why you certainly are home early! I didn't expect you for another decade!"

"Hello Father," Arwen said, clenching her teeth against a growing pain in her back. "Could you-?"

"Oh, of course!" Elrond said merrily. "Estel, get off! This is my daughter, Arwen. She is the princess of Rivendell." The boy jumped off of her quickly.

"Ooops," he said sheepishly. Then coming around to her front he held out his hand and helped her up. As she lifted her face he gasped. Though there was a slight trickle of blood coming from a cut on her chin, she was lovely beyond anything he'd ever seen. He bowed before her.

"I beg your pardon, Lady!" he said humbly, "I wasn't aware that Master Elrond had a daughter, especially one of such prettiness!" He planted a sloppy kiss on her hand. Arwen hurriedly withdrew the hand and wiped it on her now dirty dress.

"That'll be enough," Elrond said sharply. "By the way, this is Estel. Welcome home, my Evenstar! I'll prepare a feast in honor of your arrival! If you don't mind my asking, why did you come back so early?"

"I was becoming rather tired with Grandmother asking me to look into her mirror every night!" she replied. "A feast sounds lovely! I'll be down when I've changed my dress." Elrond smiled them started.

"Oh, wait a minute." He followed Arwen up the stairs, Estel trotting along behind. "Arwen, I uh, don't believe you should go into your room."

"Why not?" she asked, turning the handle. Instead of the flowered, uncluttered room she had left, she was staring into a mess of fake swords, shields, and armor nearly burying an unmade bed covered in dirty clothes. She stepped back in horror. Elrond twiddled his fingers nervously.

"Well, with Estel her we had to make a few, ah, adjustments and, well, I told him to choose whatever room he wanted, and perhaps he took it too literally- I'll be more careful next time- but yours is upstairs in the East wing now. I've-,"

"You let him have my room?!" Arwen said angerly. Estel ran happily to the dirty clothes and began digging through them.

"Well, yes. I suppose I did. But I've had all your things moved to the other room and it's quite nice in there! Though it is next to Elladan's room and he's been talking in his sleep lately." He stopped, as though deep in thought. Estel had apparently found what he had been looking for and came bounding back over.

"Look, Lady! My lucky socks!" He thrust a once white pair of unwashed socks under her nose. Arwen gagged.

"That's……..lovely. Now I'm going to change." She turned stiffly and went to her new room. So far she hadn't had the best welcome back.