Title: Queen of My Heart
Author: Wolfwind
Rating: PG
Summary: A short, one-shot movie-verse fic about the meeting between Aragorn and Arwen at Elessar's coronation. I loved that scene, and I decided to write down the way I saw Arwen's thoughts at the moment. I know that everyone saw this in a different way, and if you don't want to see how I thought it was, then don't read this. Personally, I think it's fun to see multiple people's views on what the characters were thinking.
Disclaimer: I own nothing! This scene is the property of New Line Cinema and Tolkien Enterprises.
Ada = Father
Queen of My Heart
"Arwen." Her father's soft voice startled the elf-maiden out of her contemplation. She turned to smile at him.
Sorrow lingered in his eyes, though he smiled at her with true happiness. She wished that there was some way she could remove the sadness that haunted him, but she could not. Not without giving up an essential part of herself. He lived in sorrow upon Middle Earth after my mother left, and now, because of me, even when he joins her in the Undying Lands he will not be free from grief. The thought pained her, but she knew in her heart that she could have made no other choice.
On impulse she rose and embraced him tightly. "I'm sorry, Ada," she whispered in his ear as he returned the hug.
"Do not regret it, Arwen," he told her firmly. "I grieve, but I realize now that there is no other way. You must live your own life, not the one I would create for you."
Arwen tried to stop her tears from flowing, for they would muss her father's fine robes, but she could not. For so long she had been fighting him, trying to convince him that marriage to Aragorn was the correct path, that until now she had not had time to realize how much she would miss him. Her wise, strong, loving father would leave soon, and she would never see him again. "I love you, Ada," she sobbed, trembling as she tried to contain her emotions.
"I love you, my daughter," he answered, holding her tightly, and she sensed his own tears dropping onto her head. "And whether here, or in the Undying Lands, or beyond the circles of this world, that will never change."
Arwen fought her emotions back under control. After all, her father was not leaving right away; there would be time later to grieve for the inevitable parting. She bit her lip until the physical pain brought her awareness back to herself and pulled away from his embrace.
"Now look; I've gone and ruined your fancy outfit," she tried to joke in a weak attempt to relieve the emotional tension pervading both of them.
Her father's answering chuckle was a bit watery, but neither of them commented upon it. "And I was coming to tell you that you needed to prepare to go. Now I am the one who needs to prepare."
"I will be ready before you!" she teased, ducking into her tent. She sensed that he was smiling through his tears, just as she was, as he headed for his own pavilion.
With trembling hands, she took out the gown she had chosen for this meeting. When they had realized that they would arrive on the day of Elessar's coronation, it had carried double meaning for her. All that she had hoped for was about to come true.
Or was it? The doubts that she had kept suppressed for so many long weeks came back to haunt her. Aragorn had ordered her to go to the Undying Lands. Could he possibly be angry that she had not? Would he still want her, this great King?
She shook her fears aside, concentrating instead on the purely physical sensation of putting on the dress. To keep herself from thinking further, she then checked the banner that she had spent so long sewing, the White Tree of his kingdom glittering with gems. She touched them with a trembling hand. The time had come at last, the ending and the beginning of all things.
"Arwen?"
She hurried out of the tent at her father's call. "You were wrong," he said with a smile.
Arwen blinked and stared at the banner. Wrong about what? She couldn't remember making a statement about it that turned out to be wrong.
"You said that you would be ready first," her father reminded her, noticing her confusion.
"Oh! Oh, yes, I suppose I was. I was distracted."
"Come," he told her gently, taking her arm. "Let us go see that man of yours become a King."
She walked sedately beside him, holding the banner before her. She tried to hide the fact that his words had reawoken her doubts. Yes, he is a King now. And I am just a simple Elf-maid, one he sent away. Will he want me?
Their passage up through the winding streets of the city simultaneously seemed to take far too long and no time at all. She found herself on a plateau crowded with humans without a memory of her first trip through what might, after today, be her city. Their escort halted midway through the crowd, where they had a clear view of the steps of the Citadel. Gandalf stood there, and Gimli, holding the crown of Gondor before him. The high sea-bird wings swept up on the sides of the crown, reminding Arwen once again of the sea that would soon part her from her father. But it was also the emblem of her husband's land, and the hope that they had all fought to save, and so she smiled to see it held by a dwarf. Strange, but somehow apt; the elves were leaving and it was to the other races that Middle Earth would pass.
Her thoughts were broken as the doors of the Citadel opened. With a clear flourish of silver trumpets, Aragorn stepped out. Arwen's breath caught in her throat. She had always loved him, ever since their first meeting, but she had known him as the Ranger. Now, for the first time, she saw the King he had grown to be. Her heart leapt within her as she recognized that at last he had come into his own, revealing to all the promise she had seen all those years ago. But it sank lower than before as she was once again forced to wonder, And what am I to this King?
Gravely, Gandalf took the crown from Gimli and set it reverently upon Aragorn's head. "Thus begin the days of the Kings!" he announced. Smiling at his friend, he added, "May they be blessed."
Arwen's spine tingled as Aragorn spoke to his people, his first address. She could not pay attention to the words; she was caught up in her doubts. Could he have found someone else?
It took her a long moment to even realize that he had moved; he was walking down the aisle that opened before him, smiling at his new subjects as they bowed before him. Her breathing stopped as he approached the Elvin delegation, clasping Legolas' arm in a grip which she knew conveyed the depths of their affection for one another.
And then Legolas gestured toward her. She saw his look of confusion as he followed his friend's eyes. She stood hidden behind the banner, too frozen to move. Her covering slipped slightly from her nerveless grasp, revealing her clearly.
His look of shocked incredulity did not help her. It wasn't until her father nudged her forward that she shed her paralysis and walked toward the object of her love.
It seemed an eternity that she paced slowly down the stone pavement, caught by the astonishment in his eyes. At long last she reached him and dropped into a curtsey, lowering her own gaze. Now was the moment of truth. Did he even want her? He was a great King now! She had thought that she understood that before, but seeing him today, the real meaning of his heritage burst upon her. What was a simple Elf-maiden to him?
Gentle fingers took her chin and forced her to look into his face. Puzzlement had replaced the surprise, and he stared into her eyes with the look that she had always thought meant he was reading her very soul.
For a second, the shock flickered again as he realized what she was thinking. Then he pulled her into a tight embrace.
"Arwen!" The one word, whispered so that only she could hear, swept all of her doubts away. She wrapped her arms tightly around him, forcing back tears of relief.
"How could you think such a thing?" He drew back slightly. "You are and have always been the queen of my heart."
And Arwen Undómiel laughed for joy as all that she had hoped for came true.