Chapter 1
After a long and rather harsh journey from Bree, Frodo and his companions, fellow hobbits Merry, Pippin, and Sam and the Man known to them as Strider, arrived in Rivendell, sometimes referred to as Imladris, at last. Frodo, having been grievously wounded by one of the Ringwraiths, was sent immediately to be cared for by Elrond Half-elven and Gandalf the Wizard. Sam refused to leave his master's side, and Merry and Pippin were allowed to roam around Imladris after being cautioned not to get into too much trouble. Meanwhile, Strider, also known as Aragorn, went to visit Arwen, daughter of Elrond and his longtime love. He came upon her in one of Imladris' many beautiful gardens.
"Mae Govannen. I missed you," she purred.
"I missed you, too," Aragorn answered. "I've got a surprise for you," he added after a few moments looking deep into her eyes.
"What is it?" asked a somewhat impatient Arwen, who had expected him to kiss her after telling her that he had missed her.
"I've decided to change my name," he told her.
"A rose by any other name would smell as sweet," she replied in a syrupy voice. Merry and Pippin, watching from behind some bushes in their usual eavesdropping manner, made gagging motions at each other.
"I'm glad you feel that way," he said, leaning in for a kiss. Arwen pushed him away.
"But you haven't told me what you are changing your name to," she answered. Aragorn was irked at having his attempts to kiss her thwarted.
"Oh yes, I'd quite forgotten. From now on, I wish to be known as Pants." And with that, as if to take his revenge for not being allowed to kiss her when he wanted to, he walked off whistling, leaving a stunned Arwen with her mouth wide open and Merry and Pippin shaking with silent laughter.
It took several hours of sitting in her room for Arwen to regain her self-possession, but at last she did, and she then went off to find Aragorn, now known as Pants. She was so anxious to see him again that she began running down the halls, not paying much attention to where she was going, and she ran smack into Glorfindel.
"Oh dear, I'm so sorry," she said, gasping for breath.
"It's quite alright," Glorfindel replied.
"By the way, have you seen Pants?" she questioned him. Glorfindel looked puzzled.
"But you've got on a perfectly lovely gown. Why would you want pants? I didn't know you owned any."
"Oh no, that's not what I mean… oh, never mind." And with that she dashed off, leaving a very dazed Glorfindel staring after her. As she drew closer to Pants' room, she became quite heedless of where she was going, so that she did not notice her father coming around a corner until they had collided.
"Arwen Undómiel! Surely I've taught you better manners than that!" he said, raising his voice as much as he could while still maintaining his elvish dignity. "Whatever are you doing running down the halls?"
"I'm looking for my Pants; I seem to have lost him."
"Your clothing has a gender?" asked a bemused Elrond.
"No, no, that isn't it. But where is my Pants?" Elrond was outraged at what he thought was a horrible error in grammar.
"What the-" he almost swore, but regained his coolness. "I mean, don't you know that your subjects and verbs should always agree?"
"Yes, Daddy, but this is no time for a grammar lesson. I need to know where Pants is! I've just got to speak to him." Elrond turned several shades of red, and was about to deliver what would have quite possibly been the longest grammar lecture in the Third Age of Middle-earth when the bell rang for dinner.
Chapter 2
Pants didn't come down for dinner, nor did he visit the gardens of Imladris afterward. When she discovered this, Arwen sat down on a bench and cried. Then along came Legolas. When he saw her sobbing, he immediately sat down beside her.
"What's the matter?" he asked, putting an arm around her shoulders.
"Pants- wasn't- at- dinner," she managed to say. Legolas decided to overlook her incorrect grammar, as she was a fair elven princess. He tried to console her, although he was rather confused about her bemoaning the absence of pants.
"Why, sure there were pants at dinner; I had on the same ones then as I do now. See? I'm wearing pants. And all of the Men had on pants, even if most of the Elves are too prissy to go around in anything but robes." Arwen was made even more upset by this, and she ran off hiding her face, much to the dismay of Legolas, who wondered what it was he'd done wrong. He shrugged. She was Aragorn's anyway, no matter what her father might say to the contrary.
Arwen, still weeping, returned to her room to grieve in private. When she got back to her room, she found that the door was open. Fearing that Elrond had returned to deliver that grammar lecture at last, she knocked timidly on the partially opened door and was jerked in a bit roughly by a strong arm. She heard the door shut loudly behind her, and Pants stepped into the light. For a moment Arwen's eyes lit up with her ecstasy at seeing her beloved again, until she remembered that he was the reason she was crying. Then, when he tried to draw her to him, she crossed her arms and stuck her nose in the air in the subtly snobbish and indignant way that only Elves can aspire to.
"You weren't at dinner, and you didn't meet me afterwards in the garden. What am I to think?" she asked, sounding hurt.
"I had other things to take care of," Pants responded impatiently, nuzzling her neck. Arwen was quite miffed. He hadn't sounded as humble and apologetic as he ought, so she took a step backwards.
"What were these things that were so important you managed to avoid me all evening?" she asked. Aragorn looked guilty. Arwen searched his eyes and, with the perception peculiar to Elves, saw that he was unwilling to tell her what he had been doing, but not because it involved another woman. Never that. She saw the light that burned deep in his eyes and knew that light was love. She had watched him by himself before when he didn't know she could see him, and that light had been missing. So now she forgave him.
"I'm sorry," he said. "Can I make amends for it now?" The thrill his low, strong voice brought her resounded throughout Arwen's body, until she thought that she should shatter like so many fragile panes of stained glass. Their gazes locked, Arwen and Pants floated beyond their mere earthly bodies as their souls performed the intricate dance of love. Pants tilted Arwen's face up towards his own and gave her the sweetest of kisses. Arwen burst into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. Pants was a bit surprised, and more than a little annoyed. He tried to hide his irritation.
"Why Arwen, whatever is so funny?" he asked, a steely undertone in his gentle voice. She gasped for breath.
"I'm so sorry, but it is rather odd to be kissing someone named Pants, you know," she said while failing miserably in her attempt to keep a straight face. Pants looked cross for a brief moment, but quickly forgave Arwen when he saw the fear that had come into her eyes. He never wanted to make her afraid, but he often forgot that, for all her age and wisdom, this was her first time being in love as well. Pants leaned in to kiss her again. He stirred the embers of Arwen's love until they were brought to the brightly burning flames that seemed to be lit in her eyes.
"Pants!" she cried. "I love you so much. I'm so glad I found you at last!" She threw herself into his arms. About this time, Glorfindel was walking past the door to Arwen's room, and he heard her cries of delight. He shook his head.
Glorfindel, your hearing must not be what it used to be anymore. Maybe you should have Elrond check that out, he thought to himself. I don't care what you think you heard; Arwen did not just speak to her clothing! He shook his head again, and walked on.
Pants stood with Arwen in his arms, and they were like two young lovers, wrapped up in one another. So much so, in fact, that they did not notice Elrond's knock on the door. He knew his daughter was within, however, and he knocked a bit louder. Pants and Arwen sprang apart guiltily.
"Pants," said Arwen, her heart pounding, "I've got to hide you. Daddy can't know you're here." It so happened that Elrond had an incredible gift of hearing, and he didn't miss a word of his daughter's. Now why in Middle-earth was she going on about pants again? Something was rather odd… perhaps his daughter had cross-dressing tendencies? Did this have something to do with him borrowing her tiara on those four occasions? Okay, so it was more like twenty-four, but still…
Meanwhile in her room, Arwen pulled back the curtain over her window. "Get behind here," she told Pants frantically, and he quickly complied. By now, Elrond was knocking yet a third time. Arwen smoothed her dress and hair and went calmly to the door to let him in.
"About time you got the door," he said.
"I'm sorry Daddy; I was having a nice nap." Arwen did indeed look like she had just rolled out of bed, what with her hair mussed from where Pants had run his fingers through it. Elrond scanned the room with a quick searching glance, looking for signs that his daughter had been experimenting with being a man. He sniffed the air.
Thank Illuvatar Pants remembered to bathe before he came to see me, Arwen thought.
"So Daddy," she said casually, "What did you want?" Elrond snapped back to the situation at hand.
"I have come to talk to you about Aragorn," he told her. A ghastly pallor flickered across Arwen's face, but, not hearing a sound from Pants' hiding place, breathed a sigh of relief. She didn't correct the fact that he had used the name Aragorn.
"Well, Daddy, what about Aragorn?" she asked innocently.
"I just don't want you to rush into anything is all," he replied. Her gaze grew as cold as ice, and even her father, the great elven-lord, shivered under it.
"My choice is that of Lúthien, Father," she answered. The fact that she hadn't used her typical endearment of 'Daddy' did not escape Elrond, and his heart was saddened. Arwen softened, for though his eyes had not betrayed his feelings, she could sense his pain. "Daddy, you have got to realize that I must make my own choice. No one can make it for me." His voice heavy with grief, Elrond gave her his assent.
"You are right." He paused, and then said with great effort, "I will always love you, Arwen Undómiel, no matter what your choice." Unbeknownst to Arwen, concealed within her father's words was a double entendre, meaning that he would also try to support her sexual preferences, whatever they might be. She gave him a grateful look and hugged him.
"Thank you, Daddy." Her low voice was rich with tears waiting to be shed. He left, closing the door quietly behind him. Arwen's heart broke for her father, and she wept at her inability to give him what he wanted.
Chapter 3
Pants emerged from his hiding place and held Arwen in his arms, trying to comfort her. He rocked back and forth soothingly, even as a mother would with a crying child. He made not an attempt to soothe her with talk, but sat down with her on the bed and sang a song his mother had taught him when he was but a boy.
"You must think me quite silly," she said after many peaceful moments with Pants holding her and singing to her in his surprisingly good voice.
"Never would I think you silly. I don't think Elves even can be silly," he teased, bringing a faint smile to Arwen's red lips.
"But Men can," she replied.
"How do you mean?" he asked. She grinned widely.
"You have just changed your name to Pants." A perilously mischievous glint entered Pants' blue eyes. He pounced on her and began to tickle her.
"I'll show you silly!" he cried, his voice filled with the hearty exuberance of a man who, accustomed to serious matters, finds himself suddenly at play. Arwen giggled with delight. Not even her own father had treated her with such playful disregard for her station before. Never had she laughed and been so merry as this.
Suddenly Arwen heard footsteps out in the hall.
"Pants," she whispered urgently. He appeared not to have heard her. "Pants," she said, "get off of me; someone's coming!" Glorfindel heard this from outside the door and his eyes widened. There was no mistaking what Arwen had just said. He had distinctly heard her tell an article of clothing, and a traditionally male article of clothing, no less, to get off her. He was terribly worried about Arwen's mental stability and ran immediately to Elrond to voice these concerns. When Elrond admitted that he had similar concerns, they resolved upon confronting Arwen as soon as Gandalf came to take his turn watching Frodo.
Meanwhile, back in Arwen's room, she was sitting behind Pants on the bed, rubbing his shoulders with her strong yet gentle elvish hands while he told her of his adventures with the hobbits. Arwen was a patient listener, and she took nearly as much pride in Pants' accomplishments as if they had been her own.
"…so then that night the Black Riders rode into Bree and came to the Prancing Pony and…" Pants continued. Arwen was half-listening to him, and half thinking of how much she would like to kiss him just then. So the next time he paused for a breath (right after he had told her of the foiling of the Black Riders' attempt to kill the hobbits), Arwen leaned around and kissed him firmly on the mouth. Pants was shocked. Never before had Arwen done anything so impulsive, at least not where he was concerned. Elves, with their timelessness and patience, never seemed to act on emotion or impulse, but here was Arwen, kissing him spontaneously as if she had done it a hundred times before. Although he had been momentarily stunned, Pants recovered and turned his body to face Arwen's. He kissed her almost reverently, not wishing to frighten her with the fervor of his love. But when she began to return his kisses with heat that far surpassed anything he had previously felt for her, he changed his passion to match hers.
So there they were, noble, handsome Ranger and beautiful, wise elfmaiden, sitting on Arwen's bed kissing one another as if their lives hung in the balance. And that was how Elrond and Glorfindel found them.
"What in Middle-earth do you think you are doing with my daughter?!" shrieked Elrond, his voice rising to a pitch that had been before unheard. Pants and Arwen stopped mid-kiss and looked with horrified glances at their visitors.
"Well at least we know she likes men," murmured Glorfindel. Elrond was seething with anger. Never had he expected something so dishonorable, especially not from one whom he had raised in his own house as a son.
"Daddy, please don't look at him that way," Arwen begged. Pants was ashamed, horrifically ashamed. His guilt was a stabbing pain rending his heart in two.
"I'm terribly sorry, Lord Elrond," he said in a dangerously low voice, head downcast. "I'll go pack my bags now and leave Imladris." The shame in his eyes, and the sorrow and pleading in his daughter's eyes made Elrond remember his own days of courtship with Arwen's mother, and he took pity on the two dejected lovers.
"No need for all that, Elessar," he said. Pants raised his head. He and Arwen shared a quick glance of surprise.
"Do you mean it?" he asked. "You really aren't going to throw me out?" He sounded like a schoolboy who has just been told that he will not be disowned by his family.
"How could I?" Elrond asked. It was clear that Pants was about to throw his arms about Elrond in an embrace when he regained his composure. He shook Elrond's hand and bowed his head over it.
"You have no idea how much this means to me," said Pants with a look of joy on his handsome face.
"I think he's just glad he won't have to tell everyone that his daughter wants to be a man," muttered Glorfindel. Elrond looked daggers at him.
"Well, thank Illuvatar that's through with," said Arwen. "So, Elessar, will you gve up being called Pants?"
"So that's what it was!" Glorfindel all but shouted. "You see, Lord Elrond, your daughter is not going around in men's clothes; she was only calling Elessar here Pants."
"Really," Elrond said sarcastically, "I hadn't figured it out yet."
"Well anyway, now we know what happens when I change my name to Pants," said Aragorn/ Elessar. "I had always wondered."
Me: So had I.
THE END
After a long and rather harsh journey from Bree, Frodo and his companions, fellow hobbits Merry, Pippin, and Sam and the Man known to them as Strider, arrived in Rivendell, sometimes referred to as Imladris, at last. Frodo, having been grievously wounded by one of the Ringwraiths, was sent immediately to be cared for by Elrond Half-elven and Gandalf the Wizard. Sam refused to leave his master's side, and Merry and Pippin were allowed to roam around Imladris after being cautioned not to get into too much trouble. Meanwhile, Strider, also known as Aragorn, went to visit Arwen, daughter of Elrond and his longtime love. He came upon her in one of Imladris' many beautiful gardens.
"Mae Govannen. I missed you," she purred.
"I missed you, too," Aragorn answered. "I've got a surprise for you," he added after a few moments looking deep into her eyes.
"What is it?" asked a somewhat impatient Arwen, who had expected him to kiss her after telling her that he had missed her.
"I've decided to change my name," he told her.
"A rose by any other name would smell as sweet," she replied in a syrupy voice. Merry and Pippin, watching from behind some bushes in their usual eavesdropping manner, made gagging motions at each other.
"I'm glad you feel that way," he said, leaning in for a kiss. Arwen pushed him away.
"But you haven't told me what you are changing your name to," she answered. Aragorn was irked at having his attempts to kiss her thwarted.
"Oh yes, I'd quite forgotten. From now on, I wish to be known as Pants." And with that, as if to take his revenge for not being allowed to kiss her when he wanted to, he walked off whistling, leaving a stunned Arwen with her mouth wide open and Merry and Pippin shaking with silent laughter.
It took several hours of sitting in her room for Arwen to regain her self-possession, but at last she did, and she then went off to find Aragorn, now known as Pants. She was so anxious to see him again that she began running down the halls, not paying much attention to where she was going, and she ran smack into Glorfindel.
"Oh dear, I'm so sorry," she said, gasping for breath.
"It's quite alright," Glorfindel replied.
"By the way, have you seen Pants?" she questioned him. Glorfindel looked puzzled.
"But you've got on a perfectly lovely gown. Why would you want pants? I didn't know you owned any."
"Oh no, that's not what I mean… oh, never mind." And with that she dashed off, leaving a very dazed Glorfindel staring after her. As she drew closer to Pants' room, she became quite heedless of where she was going, so that she did not notice her father coming around a corner until they had collided.
"Arwen Undómiel! Surely I've taught you better manners than that!" he said, raising his voice as much as he could while still maintaining his elvish dignity. "Whatever are you doing running down the halls?"
"I'm looking for my Pants; I seem to have lost him."
"Your clothing has a gender?" asked a bemused Elrond.
"No, no, that isn't it. But where is my Pants?" Elrond was outraged at what he thought was a horrible error in grammar.
"What the-" he almost swore, but regained his coolness. "I mean, don't you know that your subjects and verbs should always agree?"
"Yes, Daddy, but this is no time for a grammar lesson. I need to know where Pants is! I've just got to speak to him." Elrond turned several shades of red, and was about to deliver what would have quite possibly been the longest grammar lecture in the Third Age of Middle-earth when the bell rang for dinner.
Chapter 2
Pants didn't come down for dinner, nor did he visit the gardens of Imladris afterward. When she discovered this, Arwen sat down on a bench and cried. Then along came Legolas. When he saw her sobbing, he immediately sat down beside her.
"What's the matter?" he asked, putting an arm around her shoulders.
"Pants- wasn't- at- dinner," she managed to say. Legolas decided to overlook her incorrect grammar, as she was a fair elven princess. He tried to console her, although he was rather confused about her bemoaning the absence of pants.
"Why, sure there were pants at dinner; I had on the same ones then as I do now. See? I'm wearing pants. And all of the Men had on pants, even if most of the Elves are too prissy to go around in anything but robes." Arwen was made even more upset by this, and she ran off hiding her face, much to the dismay of Legolas, who wondered what it was he'd done wrong. He shrugged. She was Aragorn's anyway, no matter what her father might say to the contrary.
Arwen, still weeping, returned to her room to grieve in private. When she got back to her room, she found that the door was open. Fearing that Elrond had returned to deliver that grammar lecture at last, she knocked timidly on the partially opened door and was jerked in a bit roughly by a strong arm. She heard the door shut loudly behind her, and Pants stepped into the light. For a moment Arwen's eyes lit up with her ecstasy at seeing her beloved again, until she remembered that he was the reason she was crying. Then, when he tried to draw her to him, she crossed her arms and stuck her nose in the air in the subtly snobbish and indignant way that only Elves can aspire to.
"You weren't at dinner, and you didn't meet me afterwards in the garden. What am I to think?" she asked, sounding hurt.
"I had other things to take care of," Pants responded impatiently, nuzzling her neck. Arwen was quite miffed. He hadn't sounded as humble and apologetic as he ought, so she took a step backwards.
"What were these things that were so important you managed to avoid me all evening?" she asked. Aragorn looked guilty. Arwen searched his eyes and, with the perception peculiar to Elves, saw that he was unwilling to tell her what he had been doing, but not because it involved another woman. Never that. She saw the light that burned deep in his eyes and knew that light was love. She had watched him by himself before when he didn't know she could see him, and that light had been missing. So now she forgave him.
"I'm sorry," he said. "Can I make amends for it now?" The thrill his low, strong voice brought her resounded throughout Arwen's body, until she thought that she should shatter like so many fragile panes of stained glass. Their gazes locked, Arwen and Pants floated beyond their mere earthly bodies as their souls performed the intricate dance of love. Pants tilted Arwen's face up towards his own and gave her the sweetest of kisses. Arwen burst into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. Pants was a bit surprised, and more than a little annoyed. He tried to hide his irritation.
"Why Arwen, whatever is so funny?" he asked, a steely undertone in his gentle voice. She gasped for breath.
"I'm so sorry, but it is rather odd to be kissing someone named Pants, you know," she said while failing miserably in her attempt to keep a straight face. Pants looked cross for a brief moment, but quickly forgave Arwen when he saw the fear that had come into her eyes. He never wanted to make her afraid, but he often forgot that, for all her age and wisdom, this was her first time being in love as well. Pants leaned in to kiss her again. He stirred the embers of Arwen's love until they were brought to the brightly burning flames that seemed to be lit in her eyes.
"Pants!" she cried. "I love you so much. I'm so glad I found you at last!" She threw herself into his arms. About this time, Glorfindel was walking past the door to Arwen's room, and he heard her cries of delight. He shook his head.
Glorfindel, your hearing must not be what it used to be anymore. Maybe you should have Elrond check that out, he thought to himself. I don't care what you think you heard; Arwen did not just speak to her clothing! He shook his head again, and walked on.
Pants stood with Arwen in his arms, and they were like two young lovers, wrapped up in one another. So much so, in fact, that they did not notice Elrond's knock on the door. He knew his daughter was within, however, and he knocked a bit louder. Pants and Arwen sprang apart guiltily.
"Pants," said Arwen, her heart pounding, "I've got to hide you. Daddy can't know you're here." It so happened that Elrond had an incredible gift of hearing, and he didn't miss a word of his daughter's. Now why in Middle-earth was she going on about pants again? Something was rather odd… perhaps his daughter had cross-dressing tendencies? Did this have something to do with him borrowing her tiara on those four occasions? Okay, so it was more like twenty-four, but still…
Meanwhile in her room, Arwen pulled back the curtain over her window. "Get behind here," she told Pants frantically, and he quickly complied. By now, Elrond was knocking yet a third time. Arwen smoothed her dress and hair and went calmly to the door to let him in.
"About time you got the door," he said.
"I'm sorry Daddy; I was having a nice nap." Arwen did indeed look like she had just rolled out of bed, what with her hair mussed from where Pants had run his fingers through it. Elrond scanned the room with a quick searching glance, looking for signs that his daughter had been experimenting with being a man. He sniffed the air.
Thank Illuvatar Pants remembered to bathe before he came to see me, Arwen thought.
"So Daddy," she said casually, "What did you want?" Elrond snapped back to the situation at hand.
"I have come to talk to you about Aragorn," he told her. A ghastly pallor flickered across Arwen's face, but, not hearing a sound from Pants' hiding place, breathed a sigh of relief. She didn't correct the fact that he had used the name Aragorn.
"Well, Daddy, what about Aragorn?" she asked innocently.
"I just don't want you to rush into anything is all," he replied. Her gaze grew as cold as ice, and even her father, the great elven-lord, shivered under it.
"My choice is that of Lúthien, Father," she answered. The fact that she hadn't used her typical endearment of 'Daddy' did not escape Elrond, and his heart was saddened. Arwen softened, for though his eyes had not betrayed his feelings, she could sense his pain. "Daddy, you have got to realize that I must make my own choice. No one can make it for me." His voice heavy with grief, Elrond gave her his assent.
"You are right." He paused, and then said with great effort, "I will always love you, Arwen Undómiel, no matter what your choice." Unbeknownst to Arwen, concealed within her father's words was a double entendre, meaning that he would also try to support her sexual preferences, whatever they might be. She gave him a grateful look and hugged him.
"Thank you, Daddy." Her low voice was rich with tears waiting to be shed. He left, closing the door quietly behind him. Arwen's heart broke for her father, and she wept at her inability to give him what he wanted.
Chapter 3
Pants emerged from his hiding place and held Arwen in his arms, trying to comfort her. He rocked back and forth soothingly, even as a mother would with a crying child. He made not an attempt to soothe her with talk, but sat down with her on the bed and sang a song his mother had taught him when he was but a boy.
"You must think me quite silly," she said after many peaceful moments with Pants holding her and singing to her in his surprisingly good voice.
"Never would I think you silly. I don't think Elves even can be silly," he teased, bringing a faint smile to Arwen's red lips.
"But Men can," she replied.
"How do you mean?" he asked. She grinned widely.
"You have just changed your name to Pants." A perilously mischievous glint entered Pants' blue eyes. He pounced on her and began to tickle her.
"I'll show you silly!" he cried, his voice filled with the hearty exuberance of a man who, accustomed to serious matters, finds himself suddenly at play. Arwen giggled with delight. Not even her own father had treated her with such playful disregard for her station before. Never had she laughed and been so merry as this.
Suddenly Arwen heard footsteps out in the hall.
"Pants," she whispered urgently. He appeared not to have heard her. "Pants," she said, "get off of me; someone's coming!" Glorfindel heard this from outside the door and his eyes widened. There was no mistaking what Arwen had just said. He had distinctly heard her tell an article of clothing, and a traditionally male article of clothing, no less, to get off her. He was terribly worried about Arwen's mental stability and ran immediately to Elrond to voice these concerns. When Elrond admitted that he had similar concerns, they resolved upon confronting Arwen as soon as Gandalf came to take his turn watching Frodo.
Meanwhile, back in Arwen's room, she was sitting behind Pants on the bed, rubbing his shoulders with her strong yet gentle elvish hands while he told her of his adventures with the hobbits. Arwen was a patient listener, and she took nearly as much pride in Pants' accomplishments as if they had been her own.
"…so then that night the Black Riders rode into Bree and came to the Prancing Pony and…" Pants continued. Arwen was half-listening to him, and half thinking of how much she would like to kiss him just then. So the next time he paused for a breath (right after he had told her of the foiling of the Black Riders' attempt to kill the hobbits), Arwen leaned around and kissed him firmly on the mouth. Pants was shocked. Never before had Arwen done anything so impulsive, at least not where he was concerned. Elves, with their timelessness and patience, never seemed to act on emotion or impulse, but here was Arwen, kissing him spontaneously as if she had done it a hundred times before. Although he had been momentarily stunned, Pants recovered and turned his body to face Arwen's. He kissed her almost reverently, not wishing to frighten her with the fervor of his love. But when she began to return his kisses with heat that far surpassed anything he had previously felt for her, he changed his passion to match hers.
So there they were, noble, handsome Ranger and beautiful, wise elfmaiden, sitting on Arwen's bed kissing one another as if their lives hung in the balance. And that was how Elrond and Glorfindel found them.
"What in Middle-earth do you think you are doing with my daughter?!" shrieked Elrond, his voice rising to a pitch that had been before unheard. Pants and Arwen stopped mid-kiss and looked with horrified glances at their visitors.
"Well at least we know she likes men," murmured Glorfindel. Elrond was seething with anger. Never had he expected something so dishonorable, especially not from one whom he had raised in his own house as a son.
"Daddy, please don't look at him that way," Arwen begged. Pants was ashamed, horrifically ashamed. His guilt was a stabbing pain rending his heart in two.
"I'm terribly sorry, Lord Elrond," he said in a dangerously low voice, head downcast. "I'll go pack my bags now and leave Imladris." The shame in his eyes, and the sorrow and pleading in his daughter's eyes made Elrond remember his own days of courtship with Arwen's mother, and he took pity on the two dejected lovers.
"No need for all that, Elessar," he said. Pants raised his head. He and Arwen shared a quick glance of surprise.
"Do you mean it?" he asked. "You really aren't going to throw me out?" He sounded like a schoolboy who has just been told that he will not be disowned by his family.
"How could I?" Elrond asked. It was clear that Pants was about to throw his arms about Elrond in an embrace when he regained his composure. He shook Elrond's hand and bowed his head over it.
"You have no idea how much this means to me," said Pants with a look of joy on his handsome face.
"I think he's just glad he won't have to tell everyone that his daughter wants to be a man," muttered Glorfindel. Elrond looked daggers at him.
"Well, thank Illuvatar that's through with," said Arwen. "So, Elessar, will you gve up being called Pants?"
"So that's what it was!" Glorfindel all but shouted. "You see, Lord Elrond, your daughter is not going around in men's clothes; she was only calling Elessar here Pants."
"Really," Elrond said sarcastically, "I hadn't figured it out yet."
"Well anyway, now we know what happens when I change my name to Pants," said Aragorn/ Elessar. "I had always wondered."
Me: So had I.
THE END