Finding Hope
By The Last Evenstar
Disclaimer:
I don't own LotR, and I'm not making any material profit from this. All I get is reviews (hint, hint).A/N:
I'm back again, and this time I haven't written anything in a while. So I'm sure you'll all welcome me back with LOTS of nice, heaping reviews.Finding Hope
is dedicated to Sadie, Kayleigh, Sevan, Cassie, and all the other Aragorn/Arwen fluff fanatics that make this site worthwhile. Go them!This story takes place right before the War of the Ring, when Aragorn was commonly out risking his life in the confines of Mordor at the request of Gandalf. It's intended to be only one chapter - sorry! I hope you like it anyway!
~~~~~~~
Arwen looked out over Rivendell without really seeing it. It was all there; the trees and the flowers and the land in all its beauty, just as it had been for thousands of years. As long as she had known, it had always been the same.
Recently it had been new and exciting. Smiles and kisses and the pure giddiness of being in love had transformed it into a mythical paradise of intoxicating adventure.
And then Aragorn had left, and the beauty of the land dwindled. Worry and fear had made the tall trees foreboding; the bright flowers on the hill a bitter mockery of her life.
"Don't worry about me," he had told her, cupping her cheeks lovingly in his strong hands. "I've been to Mordor and back before, and never has any harm befallen me."
"Estel, I believe that in a trial of skill you could make your way through the darkest land in all the world and still emerge victorious," she had replied in all truth. "But the Shadow that grows in the East is not a beast you can fight, nor a man you can slay." She pressed her forehead to his. "I'm just asking you to be careful."
His dark gray eyes were not without fear. "What man would, after gaining so much, take the chance at never seeing it again?" he had teased. But she had seen the worry; the doubt that plagued him.
He knew as well as she did that each time he left, there was a chance he would not return. Even the best ranger in all Middle-Earth was at risk in times like these. There will come a point, she thought, when his skill with the sword will not matter. When everything he has learned will prove futile. Her love for the man clouded her more advanced foresight, but that much was quite plain. All she could do was wait, and pray that the world would find a way to overcome the growing darkness.
"I was not called Estel because there is no hope," he had told her, taking her hands in his own. "There is hope, Arwen, even if only a small bit. And we will find a way, meleth nin, to take that hope and turn it to reality. One day –" He paused. "One day, grace willing, I shall return to the throne, and your father will be satiated. One day, Undómiel, you shall be my queen and we will live together in peace and happiness." He faced her solemnly. "But if that day is to come, so must many days of darkness and doubt. If we are to be together, we must first be parted. And that is why I have to go."
"You are wise beyond your kind, Aragorn, Lord of the Dunadain," she had whispered, drawing close to him. "But your words cannot quell the worry in my heart."
He then kissed her softly, drawing the worry out of her heart and filling it only with love.
A single tear slid down her cheek as she remembered. It had only been yesterday, but already she felt as if a year had gone by.
When you're in love, she mused, there's never enough time.
~~~~~~~
"Arwen?" Her father paused in the doorway, holding a torch in his hand and a look of puzzlement on his face. "What are you doing?"
She looked up from the pile of maps and scrolls in the hall of records. "Looking."
"I see." He frowned. "What are you looking for?"
The light from his torch shone down on a map of the east. The mountains of Shadow, the Ephel Duath, jutted out in sharp, ragged strokes. "He's going there."
Elrond sighed. "Arwen." He sat down next to her. "My daughter, Estel will return. You cannot waste away here, studying old maps for some clue of his whereabouts."
"But Ada –" She sighed. "You're right. But how can I go about things, not knowing where he is, or if he is alive? How can I look out at the sun and think that he travels through a land where it never rises? How am I to know –" She caught her breath on a sob. "How am I to know if he will ever return?"
He looked at her, his fragile daughter, and mourned that all his years of wisdom were not enough to end her pain. "Onen i-Estel Edain, ú-chebin estel anim. [I gave hope to the Dunadain, I have kept no hope for myself.]"
She smiled at the familiar linnod, which suddenly took on new meaning. "He is the hope," she said, "i-Estel."
Her father smiled and stood up. "He is the last hope. But, my daughter," he paused on his way out, "yeste' utuaya estel ten' lle. [first find hope for yourself]."
She watched the light flicker and disappear as he moved away down the hall. After a moment, she reached down and rolled up the map.
He will return, she told herself. He promised.
"Give me a token," he had said, "a handkerchief or perhaps a broken arrow – something you have no use for. And I swear to you, on my life and honor, that it shall be returned."
She had gazed at him, firm and steadfast for all the worry she felt. "You already have a token," she had answered, resting in his arms. "It is fragile and very, very precious to me. And if you break it, I will surely die."
He looked at her, confused. "What token is that?"
She reached up, gently, to kiss him. "My heart."
He squeezed her hand, a sad smile on his face. "Then I shall be extra careful of it."
Stop, Arwen told herself firmly. There's no use replaying in your head every aspect of that night. It was not the last.
He will come home again.
~~~~~~~
She went on, but she did not forget. Every night she took from under her bed the worn map and spread it out, tracing with her fingers the journey of her beloved.
Somewhere in the midst of Gondor someone had drawn its emblem: a sturdy tree with a crown of stars. Again and again she studied it, imagining the day when its King would come forth and unite the people under one banner.
An idea began to take shape in her mind. It started as a picture, became a design, and was at last made into a reality. Here it was, a way to proclaim her faith in the King he was born to be. A way to protect him in the darkest of times.
She took out a necklace, one her mother had given to her long ago. In it were embedded nine white gems, shining with the magic and beauty of Elven craftsmanship.
Forgive me, Atara, she prayed, undoing the clasps and wrenching the jewels from it. The love you gave me will be passed to him.
She worked secretly, in the dead of night. For cloth she used the finest of Elven weaving, both beautiful and virtually untearable.
Into the craft she poured her grace, her faith, everything that had been passed to her by the divinity of her foremothers.
The standard was long in the making, and when winter came, she was not yet finished.
But when winter came, so did Hope.
~~~~~~~
"He's found it, melelth nin." Aragorn spoke softly. "It's begun."
She lay under the stars, entwined in his arms. The shock of his news and the joy of his return battled for her attention. "You'll be leaving, then."
He nodded, holding her tighter. "He wishes me to depart for Eriador. We intercept the Ring in the town of Bree."
"Bree." She remembered it from her maps. "That's near the Shire, from which Bilbo Baggins hails."
He nodded. "His nephew, Frodo, is the one who bears the Ring."
She shuddered, glad for the warmth of his arms. "Darkness had fallen indeed when the most innocent of creatures are called into the fray."
He looked her squarely in he eye. "Darkness has not fallen. Not over you. Not over I." He pulled her face close to his. "Lye milya estel. [We seek hope.]"
She kissed him deeply. "Estel nae utue. [Hope has been found.]"
