Disclaimer: I do not own any recognisable characters. They are owned by the Late-Great J.R.R. Tolkien and his estate. I do not make any profit from this story.
Hey All: Just a quick formatting note...for some reason it kept all the page breaks. I don't know why, and I tried to fix it. Sorry.
Arwen's pale hand reached out to knock upon the massive mohagony doors that led to her eldest daughter, Lorelaie's bedroom. Her knock was answered by a quiet admittance, and Arwen walked into the room.
Her eyes immediately sought her daughter, who was sitting upon a cushion staring out the window. As she did when her children were younger, Arwen walked forward and ran her fingers through Lorelaie's long dark hair. Lorelaie closed her eyes and leaned into the touch, eliciting a small laugh from her mother.
"Even on the morn of your wedding, you still seek your mother's comfort, daughter?" Arwen asked, her voice full of the amusement and love she always held when speaking to any of her children.
"Mmmm." Lorelaie answered, closing her eyes briefly. "It is the morning of my wedding I wish to receive it most, Naneth." Her voice was soft, like most women's, but there was a hint of steel within in, and a certain delicacy as well. It was the voice of a young girl who had grown up in a world where she was protected and nurtured and loved, but still knew when to hold her own fire and spirit and wield against those who opposed her.
Arwen sat down in a cushion next to the girl and picked up a brush, and ran it though the brown locks. "Your wedding day is a day that you will remember, and will always cherish. But it is also the day that will make you the most apprehensive. What worries you about it the most, Lorelaie…so that I might help…"
Lorelaie sighed heavily. "I wonder if it is the right choice…if I am really meant to spend my life with this man. If he really loves me as much as he says."
Arwen smiled a small smile. "Tell me, what does your heart tell you? Does it tell you that you love him? Does it beat out his name every time it pounds?"
"Of course…otherwise I would have never said yes to his proposal…"
"Do you trust your heart?"
"I—yes…"
"And do you trust him?"
"With every shred of my being, Mother….you know this…surely you have heard it all in my ramblings about him…" Lorelaie's eyes met her mothers as Arwen only smiled gently.
"Yes, I have heard them, as has everyone else. Everyone…I think….except you. You seem not convinced by what your heart tells you." Arwen's clear eyes held her daughters gaze, and Lorelaie knew that her mother could see through any façade or fallacy she would try to pass off.
Honesty would be the best course.
"But how do I know that my heart is right? I have heard tales of women's hearts leading them in the wrong directions…look upon a tale close to us…Eowyn believed herself in love with Father!"
Arwen stopped brushing Lorelaie's hair, and her hands settled on the girl's.
"Yes…hearts can sometimes lead us astray, it is true. But, there is something much different about true and deep love. You have heard of the magiks of the world…the magic of the rings, and of the elves. But there is something different and all encompassing about the magic of Love. True love is something akin to nothing else. You only know what it is if you possess it."
Lorelaie was silent after her mother spoke, contemplating what her mother had said. Quietly, Arwen picked up the brush once more and began running it through Lorelaie's hair.
"Did you know that you were in love when you met Ada?" Her daughter's voice was full of curiousity. Arwen laid the brush down once again and tilted her head as she thought of an answer.
"When I first met your father, he was a very small child…only a babe. I loved him…yes…but because he was the son of my brother's friend Arathorn. I loved him because he was little and in desperate need of comfort and love. I loved him…I suppose…because I would not be around him for long periods of time. I was living in Lorien with my grandparents."
Arwen's voice and eyes grew dreamy as she remembered.
"I did not come to love that was true until many many years later, when he and I met upon a hill in the Great Woods. And that was when I knew that the little babe I had loved years before, was the man the Valar had destined for me to love. My father was furious when he found out, and I remember my brothers—Elladan in particular—not being too pleased…but…well, I think it is plain to see how everything ended up."
Indeed. It was easy to tell how everything for her mother and father had ended up. They radiated the love they shared and held for each other, and it was a basis against which any couple could compare love and come up short. Lorelaie doubted that any love could amount to that which her parents had.
"Lorelaie, if you are not sure whether or not you love the man you are to wed, or if you are not ready…just say so. No one will begrudge you time or backing out of it. Marriage is a lifelong commitment, with a fire that cannot be rekindled if it goes out. You are the only one who can listen to your heart and decide whether or not you can be married to this man. I cannot tell you. I cannot make this decision for you. Neither can your father, your brother, your sisters. It is your decision. But know…know that we will always stand behind you, support you, and love you no matter what you say." Arwen's hand reached to her daughters chin and pulled her face so Arwen was looking straight at her, and not a reflection in a looking glass. Lorelaie knew her mother's words to be truthful and felt love for her family stir even stronger in her heart.
"I know, and I do not think I will ever forget that." Lorelaie smiled briefly before glancing at the wedding dress hanging on the wardrobe.
"I will leave you to your thoughts, Lorelaie." Arwen stood gracefully, and rearranged her gown and left the room quietly, leaving her daughter with her thoughts.
Lorelaie continued to stare into the lookling glass, but not looking at herself. She found herself looking upon the wedding dress in the reflection, and envisioning her future. She loved her betrothed, she couldn't deny it. But it was the depth of her love for him that worried her. Would it be strong enough?
There was another knock on her door twenty minutes into her ponderings, and Lorelaie bit back a sigh of exasperation, but called entrance. Her father appeared.
Even at 100-something years old, her father was only beginning to be touched with grey at his temples, and his face was only beginning to age. His grey eyes sparkled with knowledge, wisdom, and love befitting his years as he bent to sit by his daughter. Like Arwen, his hands reached for his daughters hair, before pulling her head to him to deposit a gently kiss upon her crown.
"I wanted to speak with you, Lorelaie, because I know your spirit well. You doubt everything that is in front of you, and everything that is within you." His voice held the soothing calmness that Lorelaie found so comforting in almost every situation.
"I just…"
"You wonder if your love is deep enough." Aragorn finished for her. Lorelaie nodded minutely, looking at her hands.
"Let me ask you something, and it may sound strange, but I would like you to think about it anyways. Instead of imagining yourself with him, imagine yourself without him. Imagine if he were to die in war, or on a trip. How would you feel?"
Lorelaie's eyes welled with tears even as she envisioned it. She didn't want to even imagine the possibility. She didn't think she could survive without him.
"Your tears, daughter, are answer enough. Look upon yourself in the glass, and read the heart that is now written upon your face."
She did as she was told, and was surprised to see that tears had streaked down her face leaving hot, salty trails in their wake. She looked at her father and him at her.
"Do you see now?" He asked. "Your love holds that magic so strongly, that you cannot even bear thinking of him being gone. If you would like my belief, I believe you love him with everything you have. But it is your heart, and I will always stand to protect it." He kissed the top of his daughters head once more, and Aragorn left the room.
After sitting a few moments later, Lorelaie knew what her heart was telling her. She was not fully confident, but her conversation with her parents had left her knowing and understanding what love was more and more.
She called for her mother even as her hands reached for the satin and lace gown. Arwen entered the room, serene as always, but this time with Eowyn in tow. They looked at Lorelaie expectantly, who shrugged.
"Can someone help me get into this dress?" She asked plaintively. Arwen's face broke into a pleased smile, and Eowyn laughed. Between the three women, the dress was placed upon the Princess, and she was made ready for her day.
It was nearing sunset when the wedding was began on the top level of Mina's Tirith. Lorelaie, her arm linked through Aragorn's and the other through Eldarion's, made her way to stand in at the very point of the sword. Behind her was proof of magic and love of other beings, a bright sky above the ruins of Morder, where hope conquered all.
Even has her heart had doubted before, her heart now swelled with confidence and love as she repeated her vows and felt the cool weight of a ring placed upon her finger. Her eyes glanced to Aragorn and Arwen, standing nearby, and she smiled. Arwen smiled back, and Aragorn nodded.
Lorelaie and her husband had the deepest magic anyone can possess. True Love was something they carried within their hearts, upon their faces, and in their tears.
-Fin-
I decided I should write more fanfictions super late at night, because they always come out so much better than when I do them midday. Ironic?
R&R, no flames please.
-Luna