Title: Leave All Doubt Behind
Author: Narsil
Summary: Aragorn has just been received by Galadriel into Lothlorien, he is 49 (quite young for a person of his Elvish descent, he'd appear about 25- 30) and I think most people know who he's about to meet up with again. I figured there are just so many reasons why they shouldn't be together, and I'm sure there must have been a point where they just decided to get it out and break down those barriers, so here's how I imagine that going. Hope you like.
Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah, I don't own Aragorn and Arwen and the inspiration of this story comes from The Tale of Aragorn and Arwen, which can be found in the Appendix at the end of Return of the King. All hail Tolkein!
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Aragorn stared into the glassy water of Lothlorien silently. His sea-gray eyes stared back at him from his reflection. He never gave much thought to his appearance before, but at the moment he was quite amazed with the image wavering in the stream; it seemed strange to him, almost incredulous. For the man staring back at him in the water was dressed in clean, Elvish robes of silver and white, his hair clean, trimmed and smoothed and free of twigs, his face for once not consumed by stubble. Looking at this reflection, he supposed that Galadriel must be capable of making anyone look presentable.
Suddenly, a new image appeared beside him in the water, instantly ridding any of that newly gained confidence. Aragorn stared at it for a moment in disbelief, before whirling around to find her standing behind him, smiling in mild amusement at the look of awe on his face as he beheld her. Then, remembering himself, he closed his mouth and scrambled quickly to his feet.
"Lady Arwen," he said, taking her hand gingerly and kissing it. He raised his eyes to hers slowly and asked hesitantly, "Do you remember me?"
"Of course," she said, nodding. "Estel." He grinned at being addressed with his childhood name, and thrilled that she had remembered him. "My grandmother told me I would find you here." She stood for a moment, regarding him silently with her dark eyes. "You've changed."
"It's been many years," he agreed. "It may seem of hardly any significance to you, but nine and twenty is more years even than I had lived when we first met." She smiled at the idea of being so young, but nodded, accepting it was true. Aragorn paused before adding, "Have I changed in aught beside age?"
"No, the change is all on account of time passing. Though if you mean simply growing older physically, yes there is more than that. In fact, in that aspect you haven't changed all that much. But your eyes have changed. There is a knowledge and a sadness there that I do not remember having seen there before. And a loneliness," she added.
Their eyes met and for a long moment neither of them moved nor spoke. Then finally, Aragorn turned away. "Perhaps," he said simply. "You haven't changed at all, you know," he said after a moment, looking up at her once more. "Though perhaps you're even more beautiful than I remember."
"Don't flatter me," she said, shaking her head with a smile.
Aragorn grinned. "I never flatter. Or lie."
Arwen shook her head again, but blushed inwardly. It was often she was told such things, and usually she disregarded them as thoughtless flattery or else simply impertinent, but for some reason this mortal man had evoked something within her. She was caught by surprise at the excitement she felt at meeting him again. She had never thought of him as anything more than a sweet, human boy all those years ago, though she knew he was of great importance to the fate of Middle-Earth. Yet somehow, she had recalled him often, after their first meeting, and was somewhat intrigued. To see him now, fully grown into manhood, returning from countless battles and long travels, wise and weathered, and appearing more like an Elf Lord from over the sea than any mere man, was breathtaking. "Would you care to walk with me through the woods?"
"I'd be happy to," answered Aragorn quite truthfully. And so they walked together through the ethereal, golden woods of Lothlorien, hand in hand. At Arwen's inquiring, Aragorn told her many of his adventures and travels, his days as a ranger, his times in Rohan and Gondor, and more recently, in Harad. And it seemed to Arwen that in his short years, he had lived far more lives than she, for he went under many different aliases and with each name came a different nature, that of the land that the name came with. She was surprised to hear of what little respect he had in some places, and that he was shunned even in lands that he protected with his life. Even more shocking, he did not seem to mind, nor care if they knew of his troubles or not. And while Arwen was amazed at all of this, she was also disheartened. For she thought it must be a very lonely life indeed to wander always fighting and protecting all, with barely any recognition, able to fit into any surroundings, yet never with any one place to call home.
Soon, their conversation turned to reminiscing, and they recalled their time together in Imladris, short though it was, as well as their time spent there before they had met. They talked of the brethren Elladan and Elrohir, and their father Elrond, and other Elves they had known. They traded stories of their childhoods, and many other things, until it was late in the afternoon and the sun was beginning her descent into the West. Then finally, their talking tapered out and a companionable silence fell as they stopped to rest on a hill covered in golden elanor and niphrodel.
After a moment of calm and silence, Arwen's soothing, tender voice rose quietly in song. Aragorn sat beside her, observing the Elven maiden in suppressed awe, and still unable to believe in a way, that he was really there. It had been so long since he had seen her, and her very presence, let alone the surreal beauty of Lorien, was creating the illusion of a dream. Her voice stirred some uncontrollable passion within him and before he knew what he was doing he had taken her in her arms, interrupting her song, and pressed his mouth to hers in a strong, passionate kiss. Arwen was taken aback for a moment, but she did not pull away. At long last, Aragorn broke away quite suddenly, and drew a shuddery breath, and a look of pure terror and panic shone in his silver eyes. He looked away and drew a hand over his face, shielding himself from her view, in shame.
"Aragorn, what is it?" she asked, pleading and confused. "What's wrong? Why will you not look at me?"
"I'm sorry," he gasped. "I'm sorry."
"It's alright," she said, reaching her hand out to stroke his shoulder, but he recoiled in humiliation and fear. "Aragorn!" Her voice rose in hurt frustration, and she sighed, trying to remain calm, and continued quietly, "Why are you sorry?"
He finally lowered his hand from his face, but he would not look directly at her still. "I'm so sorry. I forgot myself for a moment; you were just so beautiful. I thought even that perhaps I was dreaming," he said. "But by some blessed gift of the Valar, this is in fact real and fate has allowed me to witness your fair presence once again. That should be enough, it is selfish of me to ask any more, for it is more than I deserve. I should love you even as you are, a thing of splendor standing alone, and I do. I do. Whether you love me or see me just as a friend or know not that I exist; it matters not. I will appreciate all that you are, and admire you from afar. But alas for my weak will! You should leave me now and forget me."
"What madness is this? Aragorn, cease to speak thus! Do you think I would not have pushed you away if I did not wish to kiss you?" Aragorn blinked, but still would not meet her eyes. Arwen placed her smooth, gentle hands on his face and pulled it gently toward her, forcing him to meet her eyes. Then, her eyes fluttered closed and she leaned forward slowly, and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. When she sat back and looked on him, she saw that his eyes remained closed and he seemed to be trembling. This open state of helplessness was most endearing and Arwen felt herself smiling despite her concern for him. "It's alright, Estel. What have you to fear? Yourself? Do you fear that you might do me wrong? I would not worry about that. From the things you've said and the state you are in now, I do believe you are completely within my power." A faint smile appeared on Aragorn's face but faded quickly, and he did not move otherwise. "What else is it then, that troubles you?"
The man took a deep breath and merely shook his head. "I can't," he whispered. He opened his gray eyes and looked into hers. "Undomiel. It makes no sense. What can you want from me? Surely you realize I am no good for you. You are an angel sent from Eru himself, and I am but a lowly man, who shall never see the light of the Valinor. I must be honest with you: I have loved you since the moment I first laid eyes on you, and I have felt since that day that I must have you. And now the feeling is ten times greater, for I was just a child then, and I barely knew you, but now I feel as though I would be incomplete without you by my side. There; that is my desire speaking, now I tell you to disregard it, and do not pay it any heed. For I tell you that if I was anyone but myself, to see you with me would break my heart. You deserve so much more than I can give. And soon, as you account it. I will be gone. We mortals live short lives."
Arwen blinked back the tears that had formed in her eyes. She watched him in disbelief, troubled that he could even say the things he said. "You should not think so lowly of yourself," she said quietly. He did not respond. She shook her head, trying to decide what to do. When at last the words came to her, and she had regained her composure, she looked him in the eyes and held his troubled face in her palms. "Aragorn, I know truly now that you were raised solely among Elves for is it not said, 'Never ask an Elf for advise, for he will tell you both yes and no.' You tell me you love me and that you need me, but then go on to say that it would break your heart for me to accept your pleas. It seems you would be broken either way. Therefore I am sorry, for I wish to do you no harm. But because you offer only self-contradicting advice, I must seek the answers within my own heart. And do you know what it tells me?"
Aragorn's eyes searched hers and he dared for a moment to hope that maybe. "I love you. It matters not what logic is in it, for in my mind you are far higher and worthier than any others regard you, especially yourself. Besides, since when does reason ever have a say in affairs of love?"
Aragorn bit his lip as the beginnings of a smile formed there and he felt himself leaning toward her once more. But he stopped himself suddenly and asked, "What of your father?"
"What of him?"
"He has forbidden me to claim any woman for my own. especially you."
"Do my father's wishes outweigh my own in your eyes?" asked Arwen.
"Nay," he said with a smile. "I will do whatsoever you wish. Only. It's so complicated," he added, his expression becoming serious again. "Arwen, you must understand. if you truly love me as you say, which I still cannot believe, and if you will not be parted from me. you will die. You will never sail across the Western sea, nor see the light of the Valinor. You will be gone from all of your people. And you will never see your grandparents, nor your brothers, nor your father. nor your mother. ever again." And a tear had run down his face ere he finished, for he knew that she loved her family very much; so did he. And all of them adored her. Arwen's mother, Celebrian, had died years ago, and her spirit dwelt, waiting, in the Halls of Mandos. He could not bear to take all of that from her, and to take her from them.
Arwen sighed deeply and rested her hands beneath Aragorn's hair, around his neck. "I know," she whispered softly.
"It's foolishness to give all that up," said Aragorn angrily. "Just for me? I cannot let you do it."
"You cannot stop me," she answered. "So you might at least have the decency not to make me regret it by continuing to act in this manner. Putting yourself down and speaking with two minds, unable to decide which is more important, your love for me with you, that makes you want me, or your love for me as myself, that makes you want the 'best' for me. But let me try to please both. I tell you, the best thing for me is to be happy, and to make my own choices. This is what makes me happy, and this is what I choose." She searched his eyes. "Would you deny me happiness?"
"Never," he said without hesitation.
"That is well," said Arwen, smiling.. She shifted her position slightly, so that she was sitting in his lap, and brought her face very close to his, and whispered, "Don't be afraid to let yourself be happy, Aragorn. Is there aught else left to discuss on this matter?" Aragorn shook his head, his eyes not leaving her face as it lingered inches before his. "Then let us leave all doubts and fears behind us."
He smiled, and slowly gave a slight nod, then crossed the short distance between their lips and brought his arms around her, pulling her into a deep kiss. After a long moment, they leaned back, out of breath. Aragorn rested his forehead against hers, his eyes sparkling as he gazed into hers. Arwen sighed and nuzzled his nose with hers. "It's getting late."
He nodded, if a little reluctantly, and helped her to her feet.
"Good night, Tinuviel," whispered Aragorn, pressing his lips to her hand.
"Good night, Estel," Arwen answered. "I'll see you in the morning."
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-Did the ending seem sudden to you? Seemed sudden to me. But it had been dragging on for a while and it's 2:14 AM and probably no one will really be reading this anyway so. Leave a review if you liked it, or if you didn't, you can sign too and tell me what sucked about it so that hopefully in the future I will learn to not create so much suction. ..Thanks, g'night. -It's been a couple months now and I just changed a few things. Changed the ending a bit.
Author: Narsil
Summary: Aragorn has just been received by Galadriel into Lothlorien, he is 49 (quite young for a person of his Elvish descent, he'd appear about 25- 30) and I think most people know who he's about to meet up with again. I figured there are just so many reasons why they shouldn't be together, and I'm sure there must have been a point where they just decided to get it out and break down those barriers, so here's how I imagine that going. Hope you like.
Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah, I don't own Aragorn and Arwen and the inspiration of this story comes from The Tale of Aragorn and Arwen, which can be found in the Appendix at the end of Return of the King. All hail Tolkein!
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Aragorn stared into the glassy water of Lothlorien silently. His sea-gray eyes stared back at him from his reflection. He never gave much thought to his appearance before, but at the moment he was quite amazed with the image wavering in the stream; it seemed strange to him, almost incredulous. For the man staring back at him in the water was dressed in clean, Elvish robes of silver and white, his hair clean, trimmed and smoothed and free of twigs, his face for once not consumed by stubble. Looking at this reflection, he supposed that Galadriel must be capable of making anyone look presentable.
Suddenly, a new image appeared beside him in the water, instantly ridding any of that newly gained confidence. Aragorn stared at it for a moment in disbelief, before whirling around to find her standing behind him, smiling in mild amusement at the look of awe on his face as he beheld her. Then, remembering himself, he closed his mouth and scrambled quickly to his feet.
"Lady Arwen," he said, taking her hand gingerly and kissing it. He raised his eyes to hers slowly and asked hesitantly, "Do you remember me?"
"Of course," she said, nodding. "Estel." He grinned at being addressed with his childhood name, and thrilled that she had remembered him. "My grandmother told me I would find you here." She stood for a moment, regarding him silently with her dark eyes. "You've changed."
"It's been many years," he agreed. "It may seem of hardly any significance to you, but nine and twenty is more years even than I had lived when we first met." She smiled at the idea of being so young, but nodded, accepting it was true. Aragorn paused before adding, "Have I changed in aught beside age?"
"No, the change is all on account of time passing. Though if you mean simply growing older physically, yes there is more than that. In fact, in that aspect you haven't changed all that much. But your eyes have changed. There is a knowledge and a sadness there that I do not remember having seen there before. And a loneliness," she added.
Their eyes met and for a long moment neither of them moved nor spoke. Then finally, Aragorn turned away. "Perhaps," he said simply. "You haven't changed at all, you know," he said after a moment, looking up at her once more. "Though perhaps you're even more beautiful than I remember."
"Don't flatter me," she said, shaking her head with a smile.
Aragorn grinned. "I never flatter. Or lie."
Arwen shook her head again, but blushed inwardly. It was often she was told such things, and usually she disregarded them as thoughtless flattery or else simply impertinent, but for some reason this mortal man had evoked something within her. She was caught by surprise at the excitement she felt at meeting him again. She had never thought of him as anything more than a sweet, human boy all those years ago, though she knew he was of great importance to the fate of Middle-Earth. Yet somehow, she had recalled him often, after their first meeting, and was somewhat intrigued. To see him now, fully grown into manhood, returning from countless battles and long travels, wise and weathered, and appearing more like an Elf Lord from over the sea than any mere man, was breathtaking. "Would you care to walk with me through the woods?"
"I'd be happy to," answered Aragorn quite truthfully. And so they walked together through the ethereal, golden woods of Lothlorien, hand in hand. At Arwen's inquiring, Aragorn told her many of his adventures and travels, his days as a ranger, his times in Rohan and Gondor, and more recently, in Harad. And it seemed to Arwen that in his short years, he had lived far more lives than she, for he went under many different aliases and with each name came a different nature, that of the land that the name came with. She was surprised to hear of what little respect he had in some places, and that he was shunned even in lands that he protected with his life. Even more shocking, he did not seem to mind, nor care if they knew of his troubles or not. And while Arwen was amazed at all of this, she was also disheartened. For she thought it must be a very lonely life indeed to wander always fighting and protecting all, with barely any recognition, able to fit into any surroundings, yet never with any one place to call home.
Soon, their conversation turned to reminiscing, and they recalled their time together in Imladris, short though it was, as well as their time spent there before they had met. They talked of the brethren Elladan and Elrohir, and their father Elrond, and other Elves they had known. They traded stories of their childhoods, and many other things, until it was late in the afternoon and the sun was beginning her descent into the West. Then finally, their talking tapered out and a companionable silence fell as they stopped to rest on a hill covered in golden elanor and niphrodel.
After a moment of calm and silence, Arwen's soothing, tender voice rose quietly in song. Aragorn sat beside her, observing the Elven maiden in suppressed awe, and still unable to believe in a way, that he was really there. It had been so long since he had seen her, and her very presence, let alone the surreal beauty of Lorien, was creating the illusion of a dream. Her voice stirred some uncontrollable passion within him and before he knew what he was doing he had taken her in her arms, interrupting her song, and pressed his mouth to hers in a strong, passionate kiss. Arwen was taken aback for a moment, but she did not pull away. At long last, Aragorn broke away quite suddenly, and drew a shuddery breath, and a look of pure terror and panic shone in his silver eyes. He looked away and drew a hand over his face, shielding himself from her view, in shame.
"Aragorn, what is it?" she asked, pleading and confused. "What's wrong? Why will you not look at me?"
"I'm sorry," he gasped. "I'm sorry."
"It's alright," she said, reaching her hand out to stroke his shoulder, but he recoiled in humiliation and fear. "Aragorn!" Her voice rose in hurt frustration, and she sighed, trying to remain calm, and continued quietly, "Why are you sorry?"
He finally lowered his hand from his face, but he would not look directly at her still. "I'm so sorry. I forgot myself for a moment; you were just so beautiful. I thought even that perhaps I was dreaming," he said. "But by some blessed gift of the Valar, this is in fact real and fate has allowed me to witness your fair presence once again. That should be enough, it is selfish of me to ask any more, for it is more than I deserve. I should love you even as you are, a thing of splendor standing alone, and I do. I do. Whether you love me or see me just as a friend or know not that I exist; it matters not. I will appreciate all that you are, and admire you from afar. But alas for my weak will! You should leave me now and forget me."
"What madness is this? Aragorn, cease to speak thus! Do you think I would not have pushed you away if I did not wish to kiss you?" Aragorn blinked, but still would not meet her eyes. Arwen placed her smooth, gentle hands on his face and pulled it gently toward her, forcing him to meet her eyes. Then, her eyes fluttered closed and she leaned forward slowly, and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. When she sat back and looked on him, she saw that his eyes remained closed and he seemed to be trembling. This open state of helplessness was most endearing and Arwen felt herself smiling despite her concern for him. "It's alright, Estel. What have you to fear? Yourself? Do you fear that you might do me wrong? I would not worry about that. From the things you've said and the state you are in now, I do believe you are completely within my power." A faint smile appeared on Aragorn's face but faded quickly, and he did not move otherwise. "What else is it then, that troubles you?"
The man took a deep breath and merely shook his head. "I can't," he whispered. He opened his gray eyes and looked into hers. "Undomiel. It makes no sense. What can you want from me? Surely you realize I am no good for you. You are an angel sent from Eru himself, and I am but a lowly man, who shall never see the light of the Valinor. I must be honest with you: I have loved you since the moment I first laid eyes on you, and I have felt since that day that I must have you. And now the feeling is ten times greater, for I was just a child then, and I barely knew you, but now I feel as though I would be incomplete without you by my side. There; that is my desire speaking, now I tell you to disregard it, and do not pay it any heed. For I tell you that if I was anyone but myself, to see you with me would break my heart. You deserve so much more than I can give. And soon, as you account it. I will be gone. We mortals live short lives."
Arwen blinked back the tears that had formed in her eyes. She watched him in disbelief, troubled that he could even say the things he said. "You should not think so lowly of yourself," she said quietly. He did not respond. She shook her head, trying to decide what to do. When at last the words came to her, and she had regained her composure, she looked him in the eyes and held his troubled face in her palms. "Aragorn, I know truly now that you were raised solely among Elves for is it not said, 'Never ask an Elf for advise, for he will tell you both yes and no.' You tell me you love me and that you need me, but then go on to say that it would break your heart for me to accept your pleas. It seems you would be broken either way. Therefore I am sorry, for I wish to do you no harm. But because you offer only self-contradicting advice, I must seek the answers within my own heart. And do you know what it tells me?"
Aragorn's eyes searched hers and he dared for a moment to hope that maybe. "I love you. It matters not what logic is in it, for in my mind you are far higher and worthier than any others regard you, especially yourself. Besides, since when does reason ever have a say in affairs of love?"
Aragorn bit his lip as the beginnings of a smile formed there and he felt himself leaning toward her once more. But he stopped himself suddenly and asked, "What of your father?"
"What of him?"
"He has forbidden me to claim any woman for my own. especially you."
"Do my father's wishes outweigh my own in your eyes?" asked Arwen.
"Nay," he said with a smile. "I will do whatsoever you wish. Only. It's so complicated," he added, his expression becoming serious again. "Arwen, you must understand. if you truly love me as you say, which I still cannot believe, and if you will not be parted from me. you will die. You will never sail across the Western sea, nor see the light of the Valinor. You will be gone from all of your people. And you will never see your grandparents, nor your brothers, nor your father. nor your mother. ever again." And a tear had run down his face ere he finished, for he knew that she loved her family very much; so did he. And all of them adored her. Arwen's mother, Celebrian, had died years ago, and her spirit dwelt, waiting, in the Halls of Mandos. He could not bear to take all of that from her, and to take her from them.
Arwen sighed deeply and rested her hands beneath Aragorn's hair, around his neck. "I know," she whispered softly.
"It's foolishness to give all that up," said Aragorn angrily. "Just for me? I cannot let you do it."
"You cannot stop me," she answered. "So you might at least have the decency not to make me regret it by continuing to act in this manner. Putting yourself down and speaking with two minds, unable to decide which is more important, your love for me with you, that makes you want me, or your love for me as myself, that makes you want the 'best' for me. But let me try to please both. I tell you, the best thing for me is to be happy, and to make my own choices. This is what makes me happy, and this is what I choose." She searched his eyes. "Would you deny me happiness?"
"Never," he said without hesitation.
"That is well," said Arwen, smiling.. She shifted her position slightly, so that she was sitting in his lap, and brought her face very close to his, and whispered, "Don't be afraid to let yourself be happy, Aragorn. Is there aught else left to discuss on this matter?" Aragorn shook his head, his eyes not leaving her face as it lingered inches before his. "Then let us leave all doubts and fears behind us."
He smiled, and slowly gave a slight nod, then crossed the short distance between their lips and brought his arms around her, pulling her into a deep kiss. After a long moment, they leaned back, out of breath. Aragorn rested his forehead against hers, his eyes sparkling as he gazed into hers. Arwen sighed and nuzzled his nose with hers. "It's getting late."
He nodded, if a little reluctantly, and helped her to her feet.
"Good night, Tinuviel," whispered Aragorn, pressing his lips to her hand.
"Good night, Estel," Arwen answered. "I'll see you in the morning."
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-Did the ending seem sudden to you? Seemed sudden to me. But it had been dragging on for a while and it's 2:14 AM and probably no one will really be reading this anyway so. Leave a review if you liked it, or if you didn't, you can sign too and tell me what sucked about it so that hopefully in the future I will learn to not create so much suction. ..Thanks, g'night. -It's been a couple months now and I just changed a few things. Changed the ending a bit.