"He is beyond your help now. Is it that which troubles you?" Arwen turned
quickly from the window to face her father, who, entering his library with
his usual feline grace and silence, had taken her completely unawares. As
a child, she had felt safe and loved, knowing that his mind rested with
hers, but now she wished in vain for any manner of barrier between them.
"He takes my aid with him into his peril," she replied swiftly. "I do not fear for him, Father."
Elrond considered this for a moment, then answered gently: "Do you not fear for yourself, then? If the quest should fail, what then of all of this will remain? There is no safety, no hope but that which awaits us at the Havens."
"Awaits you, Father," she corrected him. "I have given the light of the Evenstar to my Lord Aragorn, and it shall not now be withdrawn beyond his reach."
She turned back to the window, feeling her father approach and rest his hands on her shoulders. "I will not leave you here to die," he whispered softly, so that if there had been any other in the room, his words could not have been overheard. She made no sign, but made no effort to tear herself away, as she had meant to do.
"I would not be rid of this pain. You understand," she said meaningfully, knowing that he did, perhaps better even than Aragorn did.
When next he spoke, Elrond's voice was thick with the struggle to keep his control intact. "And you would have me do the same as she? You would have me seek the shores of Valinor in my own selfish bid for safety, and wash my hands of your fate?"
"Not selfish!" she cried vehemently, "nor indeed, for safety. For the former, I release you from such a motive, for indeed I shall be much relieved and gratified in my spirit to see you find peace. And as for the second point, I would not wish you safety so much as rest, and a happiness long withheld from you."
"You lift that happiness far out of its proper importance," he answered quickly, almost angrily. "I know always that Celebrian waits for me, in rest and peace as you say, and that will not change in any of these days soon to follow. But you, Arwen," and he slowly turned her around to face him, lifting one hand from her arm and resting it against her cheek, "you are clinging to a faint hope and following it to your doom... I cannot leave you to that."
She was silent for a moment as she met his eyes steadily, and the two ageless minds regarded one another and were not eased by the wisdom they each found that conflicted with their own. Elrond saw a maiden young with the glow of many summers, unblemished by the passing of her youth and innocence, surpassing even the sun and moon in beauty, and with the hard light in her eyes that spoke of a long-debated choice finally put to rest. He grieved at the sight, and barely restrained himself from looking away. And he saw his dear child, whom he knew now was lost to him, and he unconsciously pulled her nearer.
Arwen perceived all of this passing in his eyes and looked more closely, seeing in her father a mighty lord, one who commanded and was obeyed, one who was revered for his knowledge and wisdom. In the grey sheen of his eyes she also saw what she knew to be a sharp, tormenting grief, but would most likely be mistaken by any other for displeasure, even anger. She knew that Aragorn had seen it and had fallen into precisely that error. The sight of his terror struck her heart, and she paled with the torment of it, but her voice was steady as she answered: "You have no choice." Her strength left her as she spoke these words, as if it had only been at her disposal for the utterance of them alone, and she sank into his arms, willing herself not to weep.
"Do not be afraid, dear one, but weep if you choose," he whispered. "I would leave you and seek the Havens this very moment rather than keep you with me as a bird in a cage, against your will."
This set her tears flowing, but finally halting them for a moment, she answered bitterly: "I do not stay here against my will, Father. Do you think I find this an easy choice, never to see you again, to be parted for eternity from my mother, and from my brothers, and from all that I now call my own? If I loved him any less, I would not do it. But my path is laid with his, and I must follow it, when he has discovered how his own runs. I will find both joy and sorrow in whatever follows this day."
"Much is yet uncertain, therefore take your joy now, and leave the sorrow of our parting for a day yet beyond my sight," he said tenderly, touched deeply by the enormity of her sacrifice and, he had to admit, relieved to see it on her face. On the day she had first told him of her choice, she had dealt him a wound he had never shown to anyone since, as she had seemed to him to be following a feeling as mortal as her lover with no perceptible qualms at leaving him and all her people forever. Did she care for him so little? But this burning wound was healed now at last, now that he heard from her own lips how much she hated the necessity of choosing. "I would not have you misunderstand me," he continued, pulling her back from his arms a little to look into her eyes. "You are the Evenstar of your people, Arwen. You must shine when all other lights have gone out, and you will be to the world of Men what you have been to us and return to Gondor what it has lost: the ancient dignity of the blood of Elven-kind. I see now that I cannot keep you, for you do not belong to me," he finished sadly.
"You take a greater portion of my heart with you for your generosity in loving," she cried, as if in pain, and clung to him desperately, unwilling to loosen her hands in the folds of his robes, like a child seeking affection and comfort where it knows that both are easily found. He bowed his head over hers and held her close as the sun sank behind the trees, and both shed many more tears as night crawled in around them and the moon rose over the valley. They had both found some peace in the autumn of Imladris.
"He takes my aid with him into his peril," she replied swiftly. "I do not fear for him, Father."
Elrond considered this for a moment, then answered gently: "Do you not fear for yourself, then? If the quest should fail, what then of all of this will remain? There is no safety, no hope but that which awaits us at the Havens."
"Awaits you, Father," she corrected him. "I have given the light of the Evenstar to my Lord Aragorn, and it shall not now be withdrawn beyond his reach."
She turned back to the window, feeling her father approach and rest his hands on her shoulders. "I will not leave you here to die," he whispered softly, so that if there had been any other in the room, his words could not have been overheard. She made no sign, but made no effort to tear herself away, as she had meant to do.
"I would not be rid of this pain. You understand," she said meaningfully, knowing that he did, perhaps better even than Aragorn did.
When next he spoke, Elrond's voice was thick with the struggle to keep his control intact. "And you would have me do the same as she? You would have me seek the shores of Valinor in my own selfish bid for safety, and wash my hands of your fate?"
"Not selfish!" she cried vehemently, "nor indeed, for safety. For the former, I release you from such a motive, for indeed I shall be much relieved and gratified in my spirit to see you find peace. And as for the second point, I would not wish you safety so much as rest, and a happiness long withheld from you."
"You lift that happiness far out of its proper importance," he answered quickly, almost angrily. "I know always that Celebrian waits for me, in rest and peace as you say, and that will not change in any of these days soon to follow. But you, Arwen," and he slowly turned her around to face him, lifting one hand from her arm and resting it against her cheek, "you are clinging to a faint hope and following it to your doom... I cannot leave you to that."
She was silent for a moment as she met his eyes steadily, and the two ageless minds regarded one another and were not eased by the wisdom they each found that conflicted with their own. Elrond saw a maiden young with the glow of many summers, unblemished by the passing of her youth and innocence, surpassing even the sun and moon in beauty, and with the hard light in her eyes that spoke of a long-debated choice finally put to rest. He grieved at the sight, and barely restrained himself from looking away. And he saw his dear child, whom he knew now was lost to him, and he unconsciously pulled her nearer.
Arwen perceived all of this passing in his eyes and looked more closely, seeing in her father a mighty lord, one who commanded and was obeyed, one who was revered for his knowledge and wisdom. In the grey sheen of his eyes she also saw what she knew to be a sharp, tormenting grief, but would most likely be mistaken by any other for displeasure, even anger. She knew that Aragorn had seen it and had fallen into precisely that error. The sight of his terror struck her heart, and she paled with the torment of it, but her voice was steady as she answered: "You have no choice." Her strength left her as she spoke these words, as if it had only been at her disposal for the utterance of them alone, and she sank into his arms, willing herself not to weep.
"Do not be afraid, dear one, but weep if you choose," he whispered. "I would leave you and seek the Havens this very moment rather than keep you with me as a bird in a cage, against your will."
This set her tears flowing, but finally halting them for a moment, she answered bitterly: "I do not stay here against my will, Father. Do you think I find this an easy choice, never to see you again, to be parted for eternity from my mother, and from my brothers, and from all that I now call my own? If I loved him any less, I would not do it. But my path is laid with his, and I must follow it, when he has discovered how his own runs. I will find both joy and sorrow in whatever follows this day."
"Much is yet uncertain, therefore take your joy now, and leave the sorrow of our parting for a day yet beyond my sight," he said tenderly, touched deeply by the enormity of her sacrifice and, he had to admit, relieved to see it on her face. On the day she had first told him of her choice, she had dealt him a wound he had never shown to anyone since, as she had seemed to him to be following a feeling as mortal as her lover with no perceptible qualms at leaving him and all her people forever. Did she care for him so little? But this burning wound was healed now at last, now that he heard from her own lips how much she hated the necessity of choosing. "I would not have you misunderstand me," he continued, pulling her back from his arms a little to look into her eyes. "You are the Evenstar of your people, Arwen. You must shine when all other lights have gone out, and you will be to the world of Men what you have been to us and return to Gondor what it has lost: the ancient dignity of the blood of Elven-kind. I see now that I cannot keep you, for you do not belong to me," he finished sadly.
"You take a greater portion of my heart with you for your generosity in loving," she cried, as if in pain, and clung to him desperately, unwilling to loosen her hands in the folds of his robes, like a child seeking affection and comfort where it knows that both are easily found. He bowed his head over hers and held her close as the sun sank behind the trees, and both shed many more tears as night crawled in around them and the moon rose over the valley. They had both found some peace in the autumn of Imladris.