Disclaimer: The Silmarillion and all of the characters there related to that are present in this fic do not belong to me! No money was made from the writing of this fic. Only the loss of sleep.
Rating: K. Nothing to warn any age away, methinks.
Time frame: 244 of the Third Age. Arwen is three years old.
A/N: This was kind of written as a spur-of-the-moment type thing. Which usually turns out interesting pieces, at the very least. Especially when they're written so very early in the morning. In any case, I truly hope that you have fun reading this tale. Any and all feedback would be much loved and appreciated, even if it's a simple "I liked it!" I can only know how to improve if I know that something is liked or disliked after all. More importantly, however, please enjoy!
Translations:
Adar/Ada: Father/Dad, Daddy
Naneth/Nana: Mother/Mom, Mommy
Daeradar/Daerada: Grandfather/Grandpa
Daernaneth/Daernana: Grandmother/Grandma
~Starlight~
Elrond laughed as Arwen toddled up to him, fistfuls of wildflowers and shredded grass clasped in her hands and trailing through her fingers.
"Look Ada!" the little girl cried, triumphantly presenting her prizes to her father.
"My, my little Undómiel," Elrond said, not bothering to hide his smile, "these are beautiful."
"They're for you," the girl announced proudly, extending her hands out. Elrond obligingly accepted the torn and crushed greenery, and then laid it out on the grass beside his knee. Perhaps some of the flowers could still be salvaged.
"Thank you, my little Undómiel," Elrond said, and smiled at his daughter. "They are beautiful."
Arwen beamed, and then skipped back toward the flower beds, searching for more flowers to pick. With a small sigh and quiet chuckle, Elrond rose to his feet and went to rescue his wife's geraniums.
With a mock growl, Elrond pounced on Arwen from behind, reaching down and scooping her up. The little girl squealed, shrieking with delight as she felt herself being lifted high into the air over her father's head. Still snarling, Elrond spun around in a circle, bringing his daughter down safely to his chest, and then began to tickle her with clawed fingers. Arwen's shrieks morphed into giggles as she batted at her father's hands and kicked her feet.
After half a dozen seconds, Elrond pretended to be struck by one of his daughter's flailing hands. He staggered back overdramatically, falling to his knees before loosening his careful hold on his daughter. Arwen wriggled out of his arms, and almost before her feet had hit the ground she was running.
"Chase me, chase me!" she cried, dashing off. Elrond smiled indulgently as he rose, then began to follow his daughter.
Arwen led her father on a merry chase down the garden paths. She hid behind a fountain, giggling as her father halted and spun in a puzzled circle, calling, "Oh where oh where could she have gone? I thought I saw her just a moment ago, coming this way!" Arwen clapped her hands over her mouth, silencing her giggles, but as she crawled around the foot of the fountain, Elrond whirled. "There she is!" he crowed, and darted for her.
Again Arwen made to dash away, but this time Elrond was faster. He caught her, swooping her up into the air again, and then neatly tossed her. She laughed, spreading her arms as if they were wings as she fell back into her father's arms.
Chuckling, Elrond tucked Arwen safely against his chest, and then began to walk back to where they had left Arwen's toys. His daughter was panting heavily, having run a good long ways in their game of chase, and she lay contented in his arms.
As they neared the grassy spot on the lawn that their adventure had begun at, Arwen looked up at her father. "Ada?" she asked. "Why do birds fly and not Elves?"
Elrond laughed. "Because we are Elves, and they are birds," he answered, "and that is the way Eru made us. Birds were made with wings, rather than arms like us. But he also made their bones hollow, and their bodies much smaller than ours. Birds were made to fly, just like we were made to walk."
"Oh," Arwen said, and her face puckered into a very solemn frown. "Have there ever been any Elves that flew?" she asked. "Can an Elf become a bird?"
Elrond's stride faltered for half of a second as the full weight of Arwen's question struck him. He opened his mouth, then closed it again an instant later. "What makes you ask?" he questioned at last, looking down at his daughter.
Arwen shrugged in his arms, and then nestled her head against his shoulder. "Elladan and Elrohir were talking about birds," she explained. "And they said how they wished they could fly like…like…" Arwen frowned deeply, trying to remember just what her siblings had said.
"I see," Elrond said.
"So have any Elves flown?" Arwen asked.
"Yes," Elrond replied, nodding. "Two, in fact – my adar and aaneth, or your daernaneth and daeradar."
Arwen's eyes widened. "Daerada and Daernana have flown?" she gasped.
"No, not your naneth's naneth and adar," Elrond corrected. "My naneth and adar. You have never met them."
"Oh," Arwen breathed, her mouth making a great 'o'. "So were they birds?" she asked after a moment of silence.
Elrond smiled sadly. "My naneth was a bird," he told his daughter. "For a time, anyway."
Arwen's eyes were wide. "But then why are you not a bird?" she asked.
Elrond chuckled. "My naneth was not always a bird," he told his daughter. "She turned into a bird after I was born."
"Oh, I see," Arwen said, nodding sagely. Another long pause, and then, "And what of your ada? Was he a bird too?"
"No," Elrond laughed, shaking his head. "My adar flies in a great ship through the heavens."
"A ship?" Arwen asked. She looked utterly unconvinced. "Like the ships that Uncle Círdan sails in?"
"Similar," Elrond nodded. Arwen frowned. But then she nodded.
"I suppose it is possible," she said. "Ships can float in water, so why not air?"
Elrond grinned. "Indeed." It was more complicated than that, but for now that explanation would do. The full story was not one that he was willing to share with his three-year-old daughter at the moment.
"Will I ever get to meet them?" Arwen asked just as they reached the spot where one of Arwen's dolls was lying face-down in the grass. "Your nana and ada, I mean."
"Perhaps one day," Elrond smiled. "Come now, let us pick up your toys and go inside. It will be dinnertime soon."
Arwen nodded and skipped off to go collect her two other dolls, which were sitting on a stone at the edge of one of the flowerbeds. "They are having a picnic!" she had informed her father as she had carefully set the two of them down. Elrond smiled as he watched her flit around, picking up and dusting off her dolls and greeting them with a bright, cheery voice.
And in that moment, as he watched his daughter laugh and play, Elrond wondered (not for the first time) how his father had ever left him and Elros. They had been Arwen's age when Eärendil had departed, sailing away in his great ship Vingilot. He hadn't understood then, why his father had left. But even though he understood the why now, Elrond found he still could not understand the how.
Arwen awoke as her father gently shook her shoulder. She blinked, looking up at Elrond blearily, and then sat up with a yawn. "Ada?" she asked sleepily, rubbing a fist in her eyes.
"Come, let us get your cloak on," Elrond said. He lifted Arwen out of bed, settling her against his hip, and then turned toward her wardrobe where he fished out her dark blue cloak. He helped her to fasten the clasp around her neck, and then he tucked it around her, making sure that both her arms and her legs, which peeped out from beneath her nightgown, were covered by the thick material.
"Where are we going?" Arwen asked, sounding slightly more awake. She peered ahead of them curiously, her silver eyes gleaming in the light of the lamps mounted on the wall. She had never been awake at this time of night before, and everything looked different somehow.
"There is something that I want to show you," Elrond said. "Someone that I wish for you to meet." Arwen looked at her father curiously, but did not press him. Instead, she settled her head against his shoulder and simply enjoyed the journey.
Elrond stepped outside, crossing through one of the many side doors that led out into the gardens. Arwen shivered, the chill night air washing over her, and she snuggled closer to her father. He wrapped a comforting arm around her back, shifting her weight slightly so that he could carry her with one arm.
"Are you ready?" he asked. Arwen nodded.
Elrond set off out into the gardens, away from the light spilling from the windows of the House. They twined their way down garden paths, slipping in and out of moonlit flowerbeds and passing through whispering grass laden with dew. And as they drew farther away from the House, it seemed to Arwen as if the silver light of the moon and the stars grew brighter.
At last Elrond halted. They were on a sloping hill, with trees growing at the foot of the incline, and the nearest garden path twining around the crest. Long, lush green grass carpeted the hill, and as a faint midnight breeze danced down from the trees, the grass trembled and rustled.
Arwen smiled, her eyes shining with wonder as she looked all around her. Elrond sat, crossing his legs, and then he lifted Arwen onto his lap. She leaned back against him, her cloak stretching taught as she sat on one end before Elrond fixed it, pulling it looser and then tucking the hem around Arwen's bare feet.
When all was set, Elrond wrapped an arm around Arwen, and then pointed up at the heavens. "Do you see that star?" he asked her. "It is the one that shines the brightest, as if with white flame." She looked up, her eyes skimming the multitude of gleaming, glittering stars that stretched across the midnight blue heavens.
"That one?" she asked after a long moment. One small hand rose to join Elrond's in pointing at the sky, her finger pointed at the Mariner's Star.
"Yes, that one," Elrond nodded. "That, my little Undómiel, is my Adar," he told her.
Arwen gasped. "That's…" she began, before trailing off.
"Yes," Elrond said. "Long ago, my father's ship was set into the heavens by Manwë and Elbereth. So that he could fly through the sky. Then they gave to him a great gem that shone with the light of both moon and sun, so that even those on the earth below could see him. The light was meant to be a promise – and a reminder – that there is still hope for the world, even in the darkest of times. And so he sails the night sky, shining like a star, bringing hope to all who look upon him."
Arwen gazed up at Eärendil, her mouth open slightly. "But then, if he sails his ship up there, then how do you see him?" she asked, turning at last to her father.
Elrond hugged her. "I have not seen my adar in a very long time," he told her. "But I can see his star every night, and it reminds me that he is up there, watching over us. Watching over both me and you."
Arwen smiled at that, and then squirmed in her father's hold. She freed one hand from the tangled folds of her cloak, and then lifted it up into the air. And then, to Elrond's wonder, she waved up at the sky.
"Hello Daerada," she said, gazing up at the star twinkling overhead. "I hope I will be able to meet you one day," she went on brightly. "But until then, I am glad that you are up there. Because up there you can watch over us all every night. Even Daernana cannot do that." Elrond smiled at that. For a long moment, Arwen sat very still, her face a picture of concentration. But then she smiled once more as she looked up at the star. "I hope that you have a good night," she said. "And I hope I will see you again tomorrow."
Arwen settled back against Elrond's chest once more, yawning as she burrowed deeper into the warmth and safety of her father's arms. "I love you Ada," she murmured as sleepiness began to overtake her. "And I am sure that your Ada loves you too. He even became a star for you."
Elrond froze for a second, struck by that thought. To be honest, he had never truly thought of it that way before, despite the many long years he had had to ponder his father's actions, and the reasons behind those actions. Ever before, it had been because of the "greater good," and "some higher cause." And for that reason, Elrond had long ago forgiven his father for abandoning his mother, him, and his brother.
Yet the idea that perhaps Eärendil had left for his and Elros's sakes… Elrond paused at that. Could it be possible? A strange little fluttering of emotion stirred within his heart – an emotion that didn't feel like anger or bitterness, or even sorrow. Elrond glanced up to where Eärendil shone brightly in the night sky, and for a moment longer he allowed his gaze to linger.
Could it be true? "Did you truly love us?" he asked his father silently. As always, he heard no reply.
But there, just for an instant, it seemed as if Eärendil blazed a little brighter.
