Disasters In Waiting

By The Last Evenstar

Disclaimer: All right, I do not own Lord of the Rings in any way, shape, or form. I once had Aragorn locked up in my dresser drawer, but that's another story entirely.

A/N: While re-reading the 'Tale of Aragorn and Arwen' in the RotK appendices (because it was a cold Monday morning and I have no life), I noticed that Elrond left our dear Aragorn with several open-ended threats concerning what would happen if Aragorn forced Arwen to choose between them. And I began to wonder, How did Elrond react when he first learned of the relationship? And thus, a fanfic was born.

I have no idea how long this will be, or exactly what's going to happen. I do have a general plot, and that's all I need. I don't know if you'll be able to expect such frequent updates from this one – I'm going to be quite busy. I'll definitely get a chapter up about twice a week. Who knows – it could only take that long to finish it.

And just a little bit of background, then I promise I won't bore you with any more of my ramblings. This story takes place half a year after Aragorn and Arwen pledged their troth on Cerin Amroth in Lorien. They have not seen each other since then, and the only one who knew about their relationship was Gilraen, Aragorn's mother. But currently, she's off in the land of her kin. And so our story opens in the fair land of Imladris (Rivendell to all you movie buffs) . . .

Chapter One: Discomfort

Arwen sighed and toyed with the food on her plate. After seven courses with her father and thirty-three of his closest advisors, her appetite was as far off as her mind. For hours now they had been discussing the politics of Middle-Earth – and it wasn't that she didn't care, it was just that her brothers could have managed to give her all the news in five minutes.

Then again, what's the point of living forever if you can't take an entire afternoon to debate the fine points of exporting Elven weapons to a city ten miles away? she pondered wryly. It's not as if I have much else to do with my time . . .

"Did you hear that, Arwen?"

She jumped at the sound of her father's voice. Biting her lip guiltily, she replied, "No, Ada."

He shook his head despairingly, smiling all the same. "Your brothers are expected home within the week. Young Estel is coming with them."

That got her attention. She jumped, and, flustered, faced her father. "You – you don't say."

He nodded, oblivious to her sudden anxiety. "You remember Aragorn, don't you? I believe you were still in Lorien when he visited last . . ."

She nodded. "He . . . stayed in Caras Galadhen a season last summer."

Her father nodded. "I believe he mentioned that. Not in much detail, though." He looked thoughtful. "You'd wonder why he needed to stay so long . . ."

Arwen could feel her heart pounding. The room felt like it was closing in on her, her father's face leering ominously into hers. She racked her brain frantically for an excuse to escape, but none came to mind.

Fortunately, her father had missed this little display of panic. He turned back to his plate as he said, "Your brothers should be able to stay a few weeks. You've missed them, haven't you?"

She nodded, grateful for the change in topic. "You say that they'll arrive within the week?"

"Yes." With that interaction over, he turned to engage Erestor in a riveting discussion of Imladrisian economy.

Arwen's heart leapt in spite of itself. She would see Aragorn again – perhaps even spend a few weeks with him! The thought crept into her mind that this would be the perfect time to tell her father about the two of them, but she exiled it firmly.

Unless . . .

What had Aragorn told Elladen and Elrohir? Could it be possible that he had confided in them? They had been close friends of this father's and were the closest thing he had to brothers. Surely he wouldn't be that foolish. Although, the idea of letting them know before her father found out . . .

She shook her head. No. If they knew, then before long Elrond would as well. It just wasn't safe.

Aragorn was guilty. Terribly guilty. He felt like the worst of liars and betrayers. And who had he betrayed? His own father.

Well, foster father, he amended. But he raised me as a son. And how have I repaid him? By doing the very thing he warned me against so many years ago.

Ahead of him in the glade he watched Elladen and Elrohir ride ahead, very much in sync with each other. They've been like brothers to me, he thought. How would they feel if I told them I loved their sister? He knew that the twins were immensely protective of Arwen.

Maybe we could run away. Join a troupe of minstrels. Make our living off copper coins tossed at us in the streets . . . He shook his head. Love did crazy things to your mind.

He sighed. There was only one conclusion. He had to tell Elrond what happened last summer in Lothlorien. He would be angry, but not enough to break his daughter's heart . . . would he?

Images of an angry Elrond chasing him around maniacally and beating him over the head with the Sceptre of Arnor popped unbidden into his mind.

I'd better think of something else.

Arwen felt them coming before she could see them at all. It was like his very presence tugged harder at her heart the closer he got. Her heart beat out a quick march as she waited.

"Arwen?"

She gasped and turned around, only to find her father in the doorway. She felt suddenly guilty, as if her longing was a crime. "What is it, Ada?"

He smiled gently. "I came to tell you that your brothers will be here any minute. Though, by the looks of it, you've been anxiously waiting." He cocked his head, as if puzzled by her behavior.

Arwen gulped. "I . . . yes, I've been waiting to see them." She cast her eyes downward so as not to betray her thoughts.

Elrond nodded suspiciously. "Very well then. Come, let us greet them."

Arwen's stomach fluttered like a nervous butterfly as they walked down the great halls. This was going to be so awkward . . .

"Ada!" Elladen's voice rang throughout the hall. "And tithin miunthel! Mae govannen!"

Arwen tried to smile at her brothers, but from the minute she saw the man behind them all else was forgotten. He walked somberly down the hall, his head hung in guilt or in sorrow. He was dirty and weather-beaten, but the sight of his ruggedly handsome face made Arwen feel weak.

He looked up, and immediately his eyes went to her. She gasped , and it was all she could do not to run and throw her arms around him. She'd missed him so much, more than she'd ever realized before now.

"Arwen? What's wrong, Undómiel?" The concerned face of her brother Elrohir suddenly appeared in her eyes.

She fought to catch a breath and smiled at him. "Nothing. Nothing! I'm glad to see you, muindor nin."

"And I?" An identical face was smiling at her now. "Have you no greetings for me, Evenstar?"

She laughed distractedly. "Welcome home, Elladen."

And all of a sudden he was before her. He bowed, and she could see the stubble on his unshaven face. "My Lady."

She could feel her father staring at her. Taking a deep breath, she tried to gain control. "My lord Aragorn. Welcome to Imladris."

Why is he torturing me like this? she thought as he kissed her hand in respect. It all became clear when he broke away, leaving a small scrap of parchment in her hand. She had to smile at the romanticism of it.

Meanwhile, Elrond was staring at the two of them, an unreadable look upon his face. "Estel. Why don't you go get settled in your rooms." Aragorn nodded and exited swiftly. "Elladen, Elrohir. May I see you in private for a moment?" With that, he turned and strode out of the room.

Arwen bit her lip. Had she made it too obvious? Did her father suspect? He is wise; able to see into the hearts of many . . .

She remembered the scrap of parchment in her hand. With a smile, she unfolded it and read.

It contained only five words:

After supper, the first place.