Him.

She loves him.

I can see it in her face. The way she looks at him, the way she smiles when he talks. She looks at him the way her mother used to look at me.

And he looks back at her, the same way I used to. They are transfixed by one another; hanging on each other's every word. Her brothers speak but it is the mere whistling of wind to them. they hear no one else, see no one else but each other.

My heart pangs and I set my jaw.

Him. She loves him.

She could have loved any one else. Any of the numerous elf men that abide in this place, or in Lothlorien or anywhere. But no, it's him she loves.

I bear the second children no ill will. Indeed I love Aragorn as my own son. But I cannot deny what he is. A mortal man, doomed to die. And not just any mortal. A mortal hunted by the Dark lord himself. The last fragment in a household long bereft. His destiny is one of hardship, of struggle, wilderness, pain and loneliness. I cannot save him from that. But for my daughter… I was sure hers was a different road.

If she loves him, she will be sundered from me forever. If she loves him, she will not pass into the land of her forebearers. This simple love that now seems so sweet will change the very nature of who my daughter is. If she walks down his road, she will know weakness, pain, sickness and a death that was never meant for her. She is elven kind, immortal. Her love to Aragorn will change all that.

This love will take my daughter away from me forever. Can I let that happen…?