A/N: Here is another of my Lord of the Rings stories. I hope you will all ernjoy it. Please let me know whether you did. And if you didn't, please let me know what it was you did not like about the story so that I might imrove my writing. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. And maybe even rewarded with cookies!
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings. Nor will I ever, I'm afraid.
The long and winding road
I know I can't take one more step towards you,
Cause all that's waiting is regret.
And don't you know I'm not your ghost anymore?
You lost the love I loved the most.
For so long she has been a part of my life, the Evenstar. Since the day I first met her when she returned to her father's house after spending many years in Lothlórien, she has been by my side in one way or another. That is the way it is between lovers, between those who hold each other's hearts.
But we have not been lovers for fifteen years now. The passion that burned so brightly within the both of us before has now been extinguished by the harsh reality. Not even smoldering embers remain. Only ashes as cold as the ice and snow of winter, with a bite just as bitter as the winter's chill.
Why, do you ask? Why do I no longer love her? I suppose that question does need answering. After all, it is common knowledge that I lost my heart to her. Why I took it from her grasp should then be known as well, for else I expect my story will not make much sense.
It all happened one day in early autumn. I had just returned from a journey to my mother's home as the roads were safe enough to travel peacefully. My heart had yearned to see the daughter of Elrond Half-Elven, as being parted from her was hard in those days. I was not yet mature enough to understand that true love is not lessened as the miles between lovers grow. I am now, though, and I am grateful for it.
But I should return to the story. As was my custom, I headed straight for my Evenstar's rooms, not bothering to change out of my slightly muddy tunic and leggings. She was accustomed to seeing me this way, as I had returned to her in this fashion more times than either one of us wished to count. She no longer minded getting her dress muddy, she simply enjoyed me holding her after so many nights apart.
She was not there when I arrived, though. Her smell lingered there, yet she herself was not present. Having arrived home earlier that I had expected, I was not at all surprised. Elrond had told me on many occasions that Arwen liked to keep herself occupied when I was not around so she would not have to think about the possibility of something terrible happening to me while I was on the road.
The rooms her brothers shared were empty. My heart began to feel a little more heavy at that, though I did not know why at the time. Now I know it was because I had been suspecting something was wrong for quite a while. She had been distant for months, it was as if she wasn't truly there with me when we were together.
As I left for the library, I was unaware that there were almost enough pieces of the puzzle laying in front of me to complete it. Whether I was too stupid to notice or did not want to notice and therefore ignored them I still do not know. It does not matter anymore, so I have stopped looking for an answer to that question.
Arwen wasn't in the library. Erestor, however, was. When I asked him if he knew where she might be he suggested that I speak to Lindir. Elrond had mentioned to Erestor that his daughter had wanted to meet with the minstrel, so there was a chance she was still there.
I was surprised at hearing this. Arwen had never spent any time in Lindir's company as far as I was aware. But then, this relationship could not be easy on her. She was alone quite often, as her father needed to tend to the needs of everyone living in the valley of Imladris and her brothers and I were away more than we were in Rivendell. Mayhap she had been in need of a fried and he had reached out to her, seeing her need and tending to it.
If I had know what I would hear when I reached Lindir's chambers, I would not have gone there. I did not, however, and so I practically ran towards his door. The smile on my face was one of pure happiness that I would finally be able to embrace her again, lose myself in her scent. I do not think I had ever walked so fast in my life.
As I raised my hand to knock on Lindir's door, I heard a moan. At first I thought I had misunderstood, but another moan, louder this time, made me realize I was mistaken. Thinking that Arwen was not there, I decided I should turn around and continue my search for Arwen.
If I had been a mere second faster, if I had not had such excellent hearing, I wouldn't have recognized the voice I suddenly heard, begging Lindir not to stop. As it was, I did. How could I not recognize it when it was the voice that belonged to the She-Elf I had loved until that very second?
Because yes, it was Arwen who was moaning under Lindir's ministration. My heart froze, my head started to spin. How could she do this to me? Had I done something wrong? And if so, why had she not talked to me? But the one question that really needed answering was whether it mattered. Whether any excuse she gave me would be good enough to forgive her for betraying my trust, breaking my heart.
Why I did it I have never found out, but I knocked. I did not wait for an answer, I just called out.
"I know you are in there Arwen. Don't bother denying it. I suggest you stay there. There is no need for you to seek me out again," I said, my voice steadier than I had expected.
I did not stay any longer, but made my way towards my rooms as soon as I had finished my sentence. She did not knock on my door that evening. Or the evenings after that, for that matter.
And now you know why I am no longer in love with her. Why I no longer love her. Would you still love her if it had been you in my stead? If your answer is yes, then you are much stronger than I will ever be. But then again, maybe not. Maybe Legolas is right and it took more strength to walk away than it would have taken to stay.
This leads us, of course, to another question you are undoubtedly asking yourself. Why is she here? Why has she decided to visit me at Gondor? If you want to hear the truth, then there is only one thing I can say: I do not know for sure.
I learned to live half-alive,
And now you want me one more time.
I cannot for the life of me understand why she is doing this. Has she no inkling at all how she is making me feel? How she is making Legolas feel? He is afraid. No, terrified. King Thranduil's son has not yet told me this, but he does not have to. He fears that he might lose me. He fears that she will hurt me once more, break my spirit as she did before. And I understand why. But there is no need for him to worry about that. I will not allow for it to happen. My love for him is far too strong. In the confines of my own mind I would even dare to say it is immortal. As is my lover.
As for myself, if I were to be completely honest with myself I would have to admit that I am afraid as well. Not of losing Legolas. Is trust him completely, I have the utmost faith in his love for me. It is every bit as strong as mine. And though he may not realize that I know it, I do. what I am scared of is that Arwen will soon see that I will not be persuaded to rekindle our romance and that she will set about chasing Legolas away to make me believe there is no other choice. It will anger Legolas, and if there is one thing no one wants to see it is an angry Legolas.
She can be rather convincing if she wants to be. I learned that the hard way as well. What she seems to be forgetting is that I am no longer the impressionable young man I once was. I have aged, and age brings wisdom. And of course it goes without saying that I do not trust an Elf who sleeps with another after promising her heart to someone.
Returning to the question, I must admit that I can guess why she is here. Whether it is the truth I cannot say, as I will never ask her. I believe she is here because I have been crowned King merely two days ago. Now that her people are leaving for the Undying Lands, the fear that she will no longer hold the position she now holds as the daughter of an Elven Lord is gripping at her heart. And with good reason. As soon as the ship she sails on reaches the shores of Valinor all the honour and respect she has been accorded for so long will be directed towards the Valar, who live there.
And she knows that as a King I need heirs. She is very much aware I am with Legolas now, as I am holding his hand underneath the table whilst we are eating and I am not being anywhere near subtle about it. It does not stop her from looking at me flirtatiously every now and then, though. She really has no scruples.
Lord Elrond would be appalled at her actions if he were here to see the way she is behaving. He raised the twins and their sister to respect everyone, to not hurt anyone. He taught them how to love and how to be loved in return. I do not know where Arwen learned to be this treacherous, this deceiving. But I am certain it was not from Elrond. Or from her grandparents for that matter. The Lord and the Lady of the Golden wood may appear to be frightening, but they are quite the contrary. They are loving, gentle Elves. Mayhap even she does not know.
I believe it would be best to focus on the food in front of me again. The way Legolas is squeezing my hand tells me this, as does the fact I am getting more uncomfortable around Arwen with every moment that passes. There is something about her that makes me fear the worst is yet to come. And just as it was that day at Helm's Deep, the long wait before the storm breaks loose is the hardest part.
"You have done well so far, Aragorn. Your people are pleased with you. They have regained hope," Arwen suddenly says.
I release a breath I did not know I was holding. If she wants to talk about my people and the rebuilding of their homes then I will humour her. It is not a dangerous subject, and I am confident she will grow tired of hearing me speak of the hard work the people of Gondor are doing. She would have enjoyed seeing people rebuild their lives, their homes before, she would have even offered to help wherever she could. Now, there wasn't a single bone in her body that thought about that.
Pushing those rather unwelcome thoughts aside, I begin to speak. Legolas shifts positions slightly so he can rest his head on my shoulder. My arm sneaks around him, wanting him even closer. Arwen's eyes darken, but I do not care. She should have known that this would happen as soon as she accepted Lindir's romantic gestures. Or as soon as she let him know she was interested in him that way. I never truly did figure out who instigated it.
"Aye, they have. Their homes are being rebuilt as we speak, their children are safe from harm. There are still some things that pain them, though. They have lost so much. And no matter how promising the future seems right now, another problem might arise as soon as people start believe the dark days are finally over," I say.
It might seem rather gloomy, but it is better not to start taking happiness, safety and fortune for granted. Arwen has seen many foul creature, much blood and pain in her log life. So has Legolas. But instead of simply assuming that things will get better eventually, Legolas is someone who will fight against the darkness so that happiness will return sooner.
I know, I know. I've been comparing them all afternoon. And there are no two Elves who differ more than these two. Where Arwen uses her dark hair as a crown, Legolas prefers to use his as a shield to hide him from unwanted gazes. Where Arwen wants others to cater to her every whim, Legolas wants only their respect. Where Arwen has forgotten how to care for others during the long years of her life, that same time has granted Legolas the ability to empathize with everyone.
"Mayhap that's true," she says. "But do you not think that they should leave those days behind? Surely it cannot do them any good to live in the past. The darkness would haunt them, the memories would accompany them wherever they go."
There is a soft silence as I ponder what my answer should be. There is some truth to her statement, but it also lacks. I cannot tell her that so rudely, though, as it would certainly cause trouble. She would undoubtedly turn my words against me in some way or throw a tantrum worthy of a toddler.
Oh, yes, Lady Arwen Undómiel is very capable of throwing the sort of tantrum one would normally associate with a child or Elfling of about five years old. Then again, that should not be surprising as she will do just about anything to get her way. The only one immune to her tears is Elrond. And now me, for they lost their power over me the same day that I removed my heart from her claws.
Legolas suddenly turns towards me, toying with a strand of his blond hair. There is a small amount of uncertainty in his eyes as those green orbs connect with my own grey ones. I smile at him in an attempt to reassure him, and it works, for he becomes visibly less tense. The corners of his mouth even twitch in something akin to a smile of his own.
"If they were to forget how much they have suffered, they would find themselves unable to move forward in life. Acceptance is the first stop on the road to a once again happy life, after all. It will be difficult, and aye, there will be days that it seems that none of it has been worthwhile. But that will gradually change," Legolas said.
I nod in confirmation of those words. This seems to anger Arwen, which makes me sneak a glance at my lover. Legolas is still calm. I know his father is known to throw tantrums, which is very unbefitting for an Elven King but at least it come in handy now. I don't think he would have been quite so adept at dealing with the situation of he had not had to do so before.
"As far as I was aware I was speaking to the King, not to you," Arwen snaps at my lover.
And who do you think you are,
Runnin' 'round leaving scars?
Collecting your jar of hearts
And tearing love apart.
I feel Legolas tense beside me and immediately pull him against me. The fact that we are both sitting in a chair complicates things, but I do not care. Throughout the war my Elven Prince was so strong, but it seems that he still feels somewhat inadequate when it comes to matters of the heart. I do not mind, though, as I will show him that I love him completely and unconditionally.
"If you address me, you are addressing him as well. It is as simple as that, Arwen. Surely you should know that," I say.
There is a dangerous undertone to my voice, I am well aware of it. So is Legolas. He heard it often enough during the war to recognize it at once. When I told him I would die with the people of Rohan after we had that argument, when I all but forced the oath breakers under the Mountain to fight with us. Legolas releases the strand of hair and places his now free hand on my knee. The touch grounds me, more than anything else possibly could have.
Arwen gaze bores into mine. She is on the verge of insulting Legolas a second time, I can tell by the fire burning in her eyes. Fortunately, she refrains from speaking immediately. It seems that the ice in my own eyes is sending out the right message. I just wish it didn't have to be like this.
"I do apologize," she says, though the venom is dripping from every word. I nod almost imperceptibly to show her my gratitude, even though I don't think she deserves it.
"I accept your apology. After all, you were only speaking too quickly. No harm was done," I tell her.
It is not the entire truth, I am well aware of it. Legolas was hurt, he was only trying to help me explain how my -our- people are feeling and she hurled her words at him like knives. But what else is there to say? Nothing, as this situation could still spin out of control at every given moment. It reminds me slightly of the tense moments that had come to pass throughout the meetings Erestor used to describe to me when I was merely a boy.
Arwen is now focusing on the food in front of her again. This gives me the time to take a closer look at Legolas. My blond lover is looking around the room with a look in his eyes that had I have become much too used to during the war. He is trying to identify the best escape route in case Arwen crossed the line again and he feels like there is no other way to deal with the situation than to remove himself from the room. He is also very aware that the guards have been given permission to spend the night with their families and there is no one here to help us.
I attempt to radiate a peacefulness I am not really feeling. If he believes I am confident that this will all end well, he will at least try to persuade himself of the same thing. The Legolas' eyes suddenly come to rest on my left hand, which is clenched into a tight fist and is laying in my lap, tells me I have been found out.
I smile at him apologetically, which makes him smile in turn. It may not be a broad smile, but it is the first genuine one I have seen on him today. That makes me feel a little bit better. It makes me realize that we will tease each other mercilessly about our discomfort when we retire to our rooms this evening.
Legolas now tears his eyes away from me again, deciding to eat some more. Granted, it is no meal worthy of a feast but it does taste better than the berries and dry bread we have eaten for twelve months. There is rabbit, a combination of carrots and a few other vegetables and even some potatoes as they had been stored in the Steward's chambers and have survived the attack on the city.
You're gonna catch a cold
From the ice inside your soul,
So don't come back for me.
Who do you think you are?
Arwen is not too pleased with the food, that much I can tell. It is true that if she were in Rivendell she would be enjoying a far better meal. Yet she knew the state she would find the White City in if she would come. There is no reason for her to be displeased, as she is being fed.
Mayhap it is the coldness of her soul that has thwarted her perception, I muse silently. When she was younger, she would be as grateful for some berries as for the delicacies the cook of Imladris made for her. She was grateful for every kind gesture, enjoyed being a friend to others. Her soul was like a bright, beautiful flame in those days.
When that started to change I do not really know. I was in love with her, which prevented me from seeing that flame begin to gradually die. I only saw the good in her, the warmth she still held. If I had noticed the changes in her demeanor sooner I would not be in this position, I often tell Legolas and myself. But it is as my lover always answers: I did not see it, and however much we might wish we could, we cannot change the past. That does not, however, change the fact that her soul is as dark as an Orc's now, she has lost all of the compassion and light that drew me to her when we first met.
The years have not been kind on her, I realize. She has seen too much pain, destruction and loss. Sometimes I do wonder if I could have helped her in some way to retain that softness instead of watching idly as she got more and more bitter, yet I never wonder whether we should still be together. There is no need to. We are too different, our paths have separated.
I hear you're asking all around
If I am anywhere to be found.
I have grown too strong
To ever fall back in your arms.
I have learned much as the years passed me by, though the road to wisdom was long and hard. The blazing sun, the bitter cold and the loneliness have taught me just how strong I am. And she will soon find out that I am in full control of my physical strength as well as the power that I hold now that I am King of Gondor.
What I mean by that? The answer to that question is really very simple. So simple in fact that it surprised me that you should even ask me this. But I will tell you none the less. If she does not leave the White City by nightfall, I will personally escort her out. There is no place for her here. What Elrond told me when he figured out what she had planned is right: she belongs with her people. But even more than that she belongs as far away from me as possible. Truth be told, I am not even sure the distance between Gondor and Valinor is big enough.
However much I dislike her, I will refrain from hurting her, though. It is not in my nature to harm others, not even if they can wield a sword and are as evil as the vile creature that worked for Sauron during the war.
Suddenly I find my appetite is gone. Not wanting Legolas to notice, I lift my goblet to my lips. It contains naught but water, yet it tastes as refined as wine. Courtesy of the nasty wells we lived off for twelve months, of course.
The silence lingers on, loaded with barely hidden anger, tension and a hint of contempt. My heart is beating faster than it should, my palms are beginning to feel clammy. It takes me a great effort to keep my hand from trembling. Why is life never easy?
It is a question one will never truly be able to answer, I am well aware. Some are followed by misfortune and find life is difficult because of the obstacles in their way. Other are often ill, which creates a whole range of problems. I find life is difficult because of the matters of the heart. After all, falling in love with the wrong person hurt.
I've learned to live half-alive,
Now you want me one more time.
Who do you think you are?
Runnin' 'round leaving scars,
Collecting your jar of hearts,
And tearing love apart.
I shake my head, not even bothering to hide it. Arwen has fallen deep. When she arrived her two days ago, I thought that she might regain her senses and realize she had set foot on the wrong path. When she walked towards me with that banner in her hands, I dared to believe that she might have climbed out of the treacherous pit she had fallen into. As soon as I saw her eyes, though, I admitted I was wrong.
Elrond may have smiled, but I know he knows it too. As did her grandparents. The lady Galadriël is too gifted not to have seen the signs. In her eyes there was sorrow, and I do not believe she mourned the loss of Middle Earth to the Elves. She had lost her granddaughter, the one she cared greatly about. Elrond has lost his daughter, but he had not yet accepted it. Mayhap it is his duty as a father to believe that she will return to him.
Yet I do not believe she ever will. Loathe as I am to admit it, I believe the change in her is permanent. I am convinced of this, as she has no reason to return to the way she was before. Her brothers will be leaving her soon, her father will not stay in Middle Earth to watch as the Age of Men progresses. Her grandparents are leaving these shores as well. Her mother sailed for Valinor thousands of years ago.
You're gonna catch a cold
From the ice inside your soul.
So don't come back for me.
Who do you think you are?
I wonder if the Evenstar herself realizes just how much she has changed. Perceptive as she is, she must have some inkling. The looks other Elves are giving her when they thinks she is unaware of their attention, the fear some show when dealing with her cannot have passed her by unnoticed. Then again, if one does not want to notice something, one plainly does not notice.
That does not give her the right to treat me the way she did, though. Before she slept with Lindir, I dared to hope that my future would be filled with love. I was not naïve enough to think we would never argue, but I was certain we would be able to work out whatever problems we might face on our road.
The road became very winding and long, dark even after she betrayed my trust. My heart was broken, I had no means of mending it. Nor did anyone else. Endless night strung together to for endless years. Indeed, a long time.
Dear, it took so long
Just to feel alright,
Remember how to put back
The light in my eyes.
For eight years I was trapped in a nightmare, forced to face a life filled with difficult and perilous journeys without someone to return to. Then, I spent another year convincing myself I was unworthy of love. Why else would she have chosen another? I was not good enough for anyone, I told myself. By now I know I was simply feeling terribly sorry for myself and that this is not the truth. Yet I would not have come to realize that had it not been for Legolas' help.
He is standing right beside me, my saviour. My friend, my lover, my life. My everything. The one who showed me that I was worth loving, that it was her who had been mistaken when she decided to sleep with Lindir.
Legolas caught my eye the first time we met. It was the night before the council, and my heart was heavy. The shadows were closing in around me, there was no escaping them. He sat down beside me, silently giving me the strength to open up to him. I needed to vent, he was there to let me. It was as simple as that, really.
What made me realize in the end that it was more than friendship that we shared, you wonder? In the beginning I didn't think there was or would ever be more than a solid friendship. Legolas often stood by me when the other doubted my choices, such as going to Lothlórien or continue our road immediately after Gandalf had been dragged down the abyss by the Balrog. As a true friend, he offered to listen to me in an attempt to make it easier on me to make the decisions that needed to be taken. He would always be the last in line, taking it upon himself to ensure no one was following us.
It all changed after Boromir died, though. Despite our differences, he had become a valued friend. His passing made me see that life was too short to let it pass you buy. There was no place for what-ifs. My feelings for Legolas had been deepening for a while by then, and I confronted him about this at the end of the first day we had spent hunting the Orcs who had captured Merry and Pippin. Gimli was busy collecting firewood, so we were alone. I was nervous, afraid that I might be crossing a very thin line. Yet Legolas welcomed my affections.
During the months that followed, our love only grew stronger. We became more and more convinced that we would be able to make this work. It would be hard work at times, but we had learned that we could trust each other unconditionally because of our place in the Fellowship.
Some things we had to learn, though. To admit that we were wrong, to let the other support us when the roads takes a turn for the worst. It hasn't all been rose petals and moonshine. We have fought a few times, especially when our relationship had just begun. Legolas wanted to be open about it, I preferred to keep it a secret for a while. We were ar war with Sauron, we were far from home and we needed to be certain this would last first. Or at least that is what I thought. Legolas said that we wouldn't have come together if it wasn't going to last, and that love was especially important in times of war. It helped to endure.
Eventually, we came to an agreement. We would not tell anyone about our love for one another until the war had ended. That is, if we were both certain we would fight to make it last. To seal that promise, we shared our first kiss, in the stables at Rohan.
I wish I had missed
The first time that we kissed,
'Cause you broke all your promises.
And now you're back. You don't get to get me back.
The first time I kissed Arwen, I thought I had finally learned what it felt like to come home after a long journey. The peace and tranquility coursing through me made me believe this was what true love felt like. And for seven years I did not see how sorely mistaken I was.
The moment of true revelation came when Legolas touched his lips to mine for the first time. I was already certain I had fallen in love with him. My heart yearned for him, my thought were full of him, my arms longed to hold him. But when he kissed me in that stable, I realized something I had never realized when Arwen had kissed me. Even though I was far from my childhood home and the home I had built for myself in Rivendell, it did not matter. My home would be with Legolas, wherever that may be and under whatever circumstances.
Elrond was always convinced my home was Gondor. For many years that was what I believed as well. Now I know that the White City is only my home because Legolas is with me. If I would have to chose between him and this city, between him and my life, I would chose him every time.
My faster father did not quite understand when I told him this. Until he saw Legolas embrace me before we mounted our horses and set off for the Mountain Road. When he brought his daughter here two days ago, his eyes shone with contentment at seeing us standing next to each other. It seems that he understands true love. Mayhap because of his wife Celebrían. They were good for one another, there was no denying it. They were one. Which is why no one else has ever been able to take her place at his side.
This reminds me of something else. Tomorrow, a large group of Elves will sail for the Undying Lands. That is why Elrond left a week ago, without his daughter. Elrond will not be among them. He wishes to stay until his beloved Rivendell was completely empty. Watching them leave will hurt him, though. It will be yet another missed opportunity to be reunited with his wife. And he will have to say goodbye to his sons, as they are sailing.
Fortunately, I was able to give something that will ease his suffering, if only for a while. By this time, he will have found it. I slipped a small piece of cloth between his clothing. In it, I wrapped the necklace that has been an heirloom of his twin's for thousands of years. He will know what it means.
Who do you think you are?
Runnin' 'round leaving scars,
Collecting your jar of hearts,
And tearing love apart.
At the thought of how close those two were and how different from her father Arwen has become, I feel anger burning like steel. Elrond told his children about his twin, about the pain it caused him to hold him as he died, about their dreams for each other many times. He did this because it was important to his. His children needed to learn that they ought to make their own choices, that those would affect other but that they should think about the greater good. Like Elros did.
Outside, the sun is setting. The shadows are growing longer. The way Legolas is twitching in his seat beside me tells me that he knows it too. The moment is approaching faster than we had both anticipated.
I take his hand in mine. Concentrating, I chase Arwen from my minds completely. Then, I focus on my lover. Do not worry, beloved. She will soon be gone.
Legolas' eyes widen for a moment before he smiles softly. I did not know was able to communicate with my lover without words. Among Elves it is not unheard of, it isn't even uncommon, but I have never heard of a Man doing it. Legolas loves to tease me with it, enjoys telling me that I am probably more Elvish than I want to admit.
Some of the Elvish habits and traditions have rubbed off on me, I will admit that. I still pray to Oromë before I leave for the hunt. I treasure nature more than if common for Men.
I grin inwardly as I remember being taught these lessons. Erestor and Glorfindel were god teachers, but they had the tendency to get sidetracked if I asked questions. Especially if they were about the both of them and their relationship. Elrond was not that easy to distract, but he was not romantically involved.
You're gonna catch a cold
From the ice inside your soul.
So don't come back for me.
Don't come back at all.
Suddenly, Arwen's voice bring me back to the present.
"I fear I must head to my rooms to collect my belongings. I wish to leave at sunset, and the sun will only shine for another hour," she says.
My mouth drops open. I quickly close it. At my side, Legolas is blinking dumbly. If the circumstances were any less serious, the sight would have made me burst out in laughter.
I quickly come to myself again, however. If I want to play my part right, this is the moment where I tell her she needn't leave; the moment where I ask her whether she is certain. The part of me that wants her to know just how gruesome the experience has been, especially for Legolas, is seriously considering suggesting I help her pack.
"Will you be needing any help?" I eventually ask. It's not the nicest thing to say, I am aware of that, but it is the gentlest way I can think of to let her know that I will not attempt to hold her here.
She contemplates my suggestion for a little while. I can tell she is genuinely torn between accepting and declining the offer, as her face is still an open book to me after all these years.
"I will manage just fine by myself. But thank you for your kind offer," she says. Her voice is soft, completely different than before. The ice that covered her words before seems to have been melted. I don't trust this to last, though.
I bow my head lightly to show her that I agree. She travelled to the White City with little baggage. However, quite a few of her belongings will probably need organizing or will have to be carefully wrapped before they can be transported. After all, she will be carrying with her some costly jewelry and fabrics.
For a second we stare at each other, the Evenstar and I. Her grey eyes are expressive, they clearly convey to me just how angry she still is, but also that she is accepting defeat.
"I you were to change your mind, Freya will be glad to help you," I tell her. Freya is a young woman, yet she would be more than strong enough to deal with Arwen if need be. The girl even makes Faramir cringe or blush once in a while.
"I will keep that in mind," she says. After that, she rises from her seat and request permission to leave, which I eagerly grant.
I am not sure what has just happened, I am just happy that all seems to have passed without anyone getting hurt.
And who do you think you are?
Runnin' 'round leaving scars,
Collecting your jar of hearts,
And tearing love apart.
The last two hours have passed quickly. Maybe too quickly. To be honest, I do not know much of what has happened during that time. I distinctly remember being led outside, which probably explains why I am sitting beneath a blanket of stars and the wind is pulling my hair.
Under normal circumstances I would not be unhappy to be outside. I grew up outside, surrounded by lakes, rivers, forests and trees. I feel free when I'm in the open, there are no worries dragging me down. Which is another one of the reasons why I was drawn to Legolas immediately.
My head snaps up when I hear the heavy wooden doors behind me open. No one should know King Elessar was lost in thoughts. It would only lead to rumours, something I do not think Gondor is quite ready for. And mayhap I am simply not ready to deal with them. After all, my doings will quickly become the subject of many a conversation. Such is the life of a King.
Fortunately, it is only Arwen. She has changed her attire, I immediately notice. The soft, red dress has been exchanged for a yellow one. Although the colour is very soft, it draws the attention. It contrasts with her dark hair and complement her nearly white skin. There are gems in her hair.
She walks towards us now, her grey eyes darting towards the skies. The stars twinkle in those orbs, but that thought no longer makes me smile. Instead, it makes me think of another pair of eyes. They may not be grey, they are in fact green, but they reflect the stars and moon just as brightly. And instead of making me feel like I am gazing at the sea, those orbs make me feel I am gazing at the stars through the leaves of the trees of a very old forest that shares one of its secrets with me every day.
"I want to thank you once more for the kindness you have shown me, King Elessar. You have made my stay very pleasurable. I wish I could have stayed a little longer, but I must head for the harbor as soon as I can. The ship waiting for me will not wait forever," she says.
Her calling me King Elessar tells me that she is finally distancing herself from me. Not because she wants to, it is need that drives her. I have shown her she has missed her on and only opportunity to be by my side.
"I am pleased to hear you enjoyed your stay, Lady Arwen. I hope you shall have a safe journey to Valinor. You have earned it after all your years here," I say.
It probably isn't the right thing to say, yet I cannot think of anything more appropriate.
You're gonna catch a cold
From the ice inside your soul.
Don't come back for me.
Don't come back at all.
Arwen takes no offence to my words, which I am grateful for. I am too tense, too wound up to deal with even the slightest attempt of hers to pick a fight. The long days have made my patience wear thin, as have her continued attempts at pulling Legolas and me apart.
"I hope that the journey shall be an uneventful one as well," she says.
The sounds of hooves makes me turn towards the east. One of the men who work in the stables on the level below this one is leading a magnificent horse towards us. I realize straight away that this is Arwen's own horse. The black fur is almost as pristine as Shadowfax's, but on his nose there is one single white spot.
Arwen approaches the horse, thanking the man with a nod of her head. She touched the animal gently, making it press its nose into her neck. Caressing the horse, she slips the belongings she is holding into the saddlebacks. She normally rides without a saddle, she is only using it for this purpose.
"I do hope you will carry with you fond memories of your time spent in Middle Earth," I say as she slips onto the horses back.
She looks at me, an unreadable expression on her face. She then looks at Legolas and smiles softly.
"I most certainly will," she tells us.
She stares at the sky. The moon is by now completely out. Midnight is merely two hours away. Despite the fact Elves do not grow tired easily, her horse will tire before the night ends. I know what will come next.
"I ought to leave. I should make it to a safe place to rest before Aglardûr tires," she eventually says.
I nod my head. There is no need for words. This is our final meeting, as it was destined to be since the moment we first laid eyes on each other. She inclines her head in our direction and turns towards the gates that will lead her down to the next level.
The darkness is becoming deeper with every second that passes. Clouds are gathering in front of the moon and only a few of the most persistent beams are managing to break through. Not even her pale complexion and the light dress can make her stand out for logs. She quickly becomes a shadow.
Finally I see Arwen disappear from view completely. The moonlight ceases to reflect off of the gems braided into her hair.
"Come," Legolas says. "let us head to our chambers. It is getting late. We ought to rest. There will be much to day when Arien rises anew."
He is of course right. So I have no choice but to allow him to lead me towards our room.
Who do you think you are?
Who do you think you are?
Who do you think you are?
Sighing, I slip underneath the covers. I am alone with my lover at last. After the trying day we have just had, I do not thing this is luxury at all. We have earned some peace and quiet.
I smile and open my arms. Legolas does not hesitate to move into them, his eyes finally twinkling again. It warms my heart to see him happy, at ease and utterly free of the worries that have plagued him throughout the day.
I bring my lips so close to his that our breaths tickle the other's lips. Legolas' hand comes to rest against my cheek. I close my eyes, allowing the powerful emotions to surge through me at full speed.
"I love you," I whisper before claiming his lips in a gently kiss.
I have told him this more times than anyone could ever count in the last year, yet I will never grow tired of saying it. Those three simple words hold so much meaning, I believed for so long that I would never be able to speak them again that they have a completely new meaning now.
"I know you do. I love you, too," Legolas responds softly.
Yes, my road has been long, winding and dark. I fell in holes I believed to be too deep to ever climb out of. But somewhere along that road, in one of those pits or around one of the corners, I found someone to show me that as long as you don't walk a road alone, you will reach the end of it. Legolas taught me that love is everywhere, for everyone. As long as you don't refuse to see it.
"I'm glad you do. I wouldn't know what to do without you," I tell him.
After that, we do no longer speak. Instead, we hold one another and allow ourselves to slip into the land of dreams.