A/N:

Disclaimer: All right, you caught me. I'm Tolkien back from the dead! Boo!

(I won't insult you lot by pointing out that the above sentence was something wicked and nasty called sarcasm.)

Sindarin translations are at the end. Thanks to Merin Essi Ar Quenteli! for those. And also to the anonymous reviewer eiluj for pointing out my mistake in making "sell nín" "sell nîn," as well as providing the proper scale for elf-to-human development, and to Virtuella, for convincing me that "elleth" was synonymous to "girl" and "child," because, for some reason, I hadn't made the connection. *rolls eyes* I am so dense sometimes.

Arwen is four, both according to her actions and stature, and...I think...also according to the section in Morgoth's Ring, provided, as I mentioned, by eiluj. Perhaps you can tell - math is my worth subject, and all this talk of elven years and human years and the math involved has confused me no end. Anyhow. I hope you can enjoy the story despite my age issues. : )

XIXIX

"Whee!" shrieked Arwen gleefully as Elrond gave her another push. The branch that indirectly held the small girl suspended in air swayed energetically as Arwen leaped forwards as though flying. Elrond grinned, extending his arms so that he could push his daughter again on her return. It was not often that father and daughter had quality time alone, but when they did, it was always very enjoyable.

Elrond shoved Arwen again once she returned to him, and she sped into the air on her swing. This time, though, her ascent was not checked by the end of the rope that bound the swing to the tree; Arwen sailed on into the sky, using the force of her father's push to propel herself into the air, leaving the mere constraints of gravity behind as she leaped into the blueness.

Arwen almost seemed to freeze in midaifr for a second, her slim outline bordered in crisp blue sky, white clouds, and the green leaves of the tree, her arms extended as if she wanted to embrace the world in a hug. The golden autumn sun of the early evening hovered just above her head, lighting up her raven hair and giving the young girl a brilliant halo. Elrond watched his daughter, mesmerized by how lovely she was, but a second later, time sped up again and Arwen reached over her head to grasp another tree branch, then hung there, swaying gently in the breeze.

Elrond laughed and hurried forwards, his arms extended to catch his small daughter. "Let go, sell nín," he said. Arwen let go of her branch a moment later, to drop into her father's arms. "That was fun, Ada," the young girl exclaimed in excitement, reaching up to give her father a strong hug around the neck. "May I fly again, please?"

Elrond smiled as he put Arwen down, their dark, long hair mingling for a second into a single shadowy waterfall. "Not at the moment, Arwen," Elrond told her, starting up the path towards the pavilions of Imladris, where, he knew, supper would be served on such a fine day as today. "It is time for supper."

Arwen pouted half-heartedly for a moment, then hurriedly skipped up the path after Elrond. A moment later, a small, smooth hand slipped into Elrond's larger, rougher one. Elrond smiled a little, altering his steps so that the smaller legs of the young child who accompanied him now would not have to stretch quite as far.

"When may I fly again, Ada?" came the query from below his elbow. "I know not, Arwen," Elrond answered truthfully. "Perhaps your nana will come here with you after supper?"

"Perhaps," Arwen agreed, swinging their linked hands between them. "But after supper seems so very far away…"

Elrond smiled her impatience. "It will pass before you know it," he told Arwen, and it was true. It seemed like it had been only a few days, rather than years, ago that Arwen had been a small pink baby, looking calmly up at him with beautiful gray eyes. Where have the years gone? he wondered, a little wistfully.

"Ada!" came the excited cry from Arwen, interrupting Elrond's reminiscing. "I have found a way for me to fly now!"

"What is that, Arwen?" Elrond asked, smiling. It was sure to be inventive.

In answer, Arwen released her father's hand and spread her arms wide. "Look!" she crowed delightedly. "I am an eagle! Tseeer!"

The exclamation was followed by a noise that was so like that of an eagle that Elrond jumped a little. When he looked for Arwen again, she was already far up the path, her arms stretched out as far as they could go, weaving and twirling like the eagle she was in her imagination. The thin blue cloak she wore against the slight chill in the autumn air billowed in the breeze the young girl created as she darted up the path, making the semblance of a bird all the more realistic.

"Wait for me!" Elrond called after her, chuckling. With a flick of his arms, the sedate and puissant Lord of Rivendell prepared his own wings for flight, then picked up his pace and flew after his daughter, attempting his own eagle noise as he did so. The elf-lord's black cloak flapped convincingly behind him as he caught up with Arwen, who giggled to see her father acting so undignified.

"That's right, Ada," Arwen encouraged as she careened wildly through the rose bushes that bordered the smooth white pathway. "Flap your wings like this!" Elrond complied, and followed his daughter through the rose bushes and back on to the path.

"I wonder what is for supper tonight," Elrond remarked as father and daughter continued up the path. Arwen's eyes lit up. "What do eagles eat for supper?" she asked curiously, waving her arms vigorously as she jumped off a nearby bench.

"Raw meat, mostly," Elrond told his daughter. Arwen wrinkled her nose, then spun around on one foot. "Perhaps we should have cooked meat instead?" she suggested slightly breathlessly. "What about dessert?"

"I do not believe eagles eat dessert," Elrond said with a shake of his dark head as he continued to fly down the path. "And yes, cooked meat will probably be a suitable compromise. Raw meat is not overly pleasing to eat, to say the least."

"Ada," began Arwen, hopping one-footed down the path as she spoke. "Perhaps we should stop being eagles now."

Elrond slowed and dropped his arms. "All right," he agreed easily. Done with her hopping, Arwen trotted up beside him, and a moment later, her small hand found his again.

"Why have you stopped being an eagle, Arwen?" Elrond asked his daughter as the pavilion where the evening meal would be served appeared around a bend in the path.

Arwen smiled up at her father, making the heart of the elf-lord heart melt as it had since the first time his daughter looked up at him. "I did not want to try raw meat," she explained. "Also, I think I much prefer being afn elleth. My arms were getting tired from flying."

"I am glad you like being an elleth," Elrond said, "because Nana and I would miss you greatly if you flew away as an eagle."

"Then I shall not fly away," Arwen said firmly, tightening her grip on Elrond's hand. "I shall always stay with you and Nana."

Suddenly, a flash of foresight came upon Elrond. He had no choice but to stop in the path and experience what was being shown him.

The Lord of Imladris was on a ship, sailing into the West, but Arwen was not besides him. Where was Arwen? Elrond cast around in himself, and found the answer: Arwen was staying in Gondor, to die a mortal death. Elrond inhaled in surprise and unhappiness, unable to fathom why Arwen would do this-

-and just as soon as it had begun, the vision ended.

"Ada?" piped the small voice from his side. "Why are we stopping?"

Elrond resumed walking, and Arwen skipped along by his side. "It was only a flash of foresight, Arwen," he reassured his daughter. "Nana and I will always be happy to have you in our house, sell nín."

Arwen began to chatter about the new pattern she was learning to embroider with the help of her mother, but Elrond's mind was on his vision. Why would Arwen choose to live the life of a mortal? Elrond could find no reason for what might come to pass, and he wasn't sure he wanted to. It is best to enjoy the present, he finally decided as the two climbed the steps to the pavilion. Worrying about visions that may or may not come true is not beneficial in any way.

Still, as Arwen released her father's hand and ran to greet Celebrían, Elladan, and Elrohir, who were already in the pavilion, Elrond was reluctant to drop his daughter's hand, knowing that perhaps one day, there would not be an opportunity to ever hold it again.

XIXIX

Sell nín – my daughter

Nana – mom or mama

Ada – dad or daddy

Ellethf – female elf