The greatest legends of Middle Earth are those of tragedy. The tale of Beren and Luthien, the tale of Hurin and Morwen, and the tale of Nienor and Turin, are but a few of those bitter stories. But there comes to mind a far more grievous tale, one of betrayal, of faithlessness, and of hatred. It is the tale of Arwen, a beautiful Elf in love with Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir to the kingship of Gondor. It is the tale of a promise that was broken, a faith that was lost, the hope that was destroyed, and the hatred that consumed the life of Arwen Umdomiel.
***
In the year 3019, as the victorious Rohirrim drove the multitude of Orcs from Helm's Deep, safe within the halls of Rivendell, Arwen Umdomiel watched the darkening horizon. She wondered if someone else, a dark-haired Ranger with piercing eyes and a white-flecked beard, was staring into the horizon, thinking of her.
"Arwen, my dear, I sense your heart is laden with worry." Arwen smiled at the sound of her father's deep voice.
"Are you here to lift my anxiety, Ada?" She turned and saw Elrond return her smile.
"Daughter, do you need assurance?" Arwen turned again, her smiling fading. The setting sun had nearly disappeared, and night was slowly enveloping the world.
"I know he lives. But where is he? Does he think of me? Does-"
"My dear Arwen, do not fear for Aragorn. He loves you, and he will do everything in his power to return to you." He gently turned her, cupping her porcelain face in his strong hands.
"Is that assurance enough?" He said, grinning.
"Thank you, Ada," she whispered, and he kissed her forehead.
"Go to sleep, my daughter, and dream of your love. Goodnight," Elrond murmured, and left Arwen in the night.
***
She enters the dreamworld now, an ethereal world, a kaleidoscope of color and memory. She dreams of her mother, her brothers, and her dear father in happiness. But where is her Estel? Where is her love?
Arwen catches as glimpse of him, his hair ragged, his face drenched in sweat. He is surrounded by bloody stone, but also by cheers of victory. A great battle has been won.
"Aragorn!" She calls, her voice filled with happiness. It seems an eternity has passed since she last laid eyes upon her love.
She watches as his grey eyes light up in happiness; he sees his love! He approaches her, almost shyly. Arwen steps forward, joy flooding her entire body.
But as she moves forward, she is stopped by a voice from around her. It is young, full of hope and elation, and is clearly feminine.
"Lord Aragorn! You live!" A young woman, with golden hair brighter than the sun itself, bows low before Aragorn.
"Yes, Lady Eowyn." He returns her bow and kisses her pale hand gently. There is something in that soft kiss, something different, Arwen realizes. "Are the women and children safe?"
"Yes, my lord." There is a long pause. Arwen watches Aragorn's face, confused. He is struggling deep within.
"Is your duty still heavy upon your mind?" Eowyn asks, her voice filled with hope. Aragorn does not answer.
"You must not hold yourself to a forgotten promise. A promise to a lady gone over the sea!" Eowyn bursts out angrily.
"Arwen has not forgotten my promise!" Aragorn said. "And I cannot be certain she has departed from these shores." Arwen feels her heart beat faster as she suddenly realizes what Aragorn so fiercely struggles with. He means to betray her with this young woman of Rohan.
"A night ago, you told me with great certainty she was gone. She no longer feels love for you, Aragorn! If she did, she would have stayed." Arwen can no longer stay silent. She steps forward, past Eowyn, face to face with her love.
"Aragorn, I am here! I have remained! Can you not see me?" But he does not respond. It is as if she is as invisible as the wind now softly blowing through Eowyn's golden hair. How beautiful is she. Her voice is soft, her face white and delicate. Her eyes are a deep, crystalline blue, more lovely than the greatest treasures of Moria. She is dressed in a simple white gown, but the simplicity gives her an air of beautiful innocence. Lady Eowyn is beautiful indeed.
"I still love her, Eowyn," Aragorn murmurs helplessly. Eowyn passes through Arwen, and, taking the Ranger's trembling hands gently, brings them close to her heart.
"You will always love her, Aragorn. There will always be a place in your heart for her. But will you not let anyone else have claim on your heart? Aragorn," she says, her voice becoming urgent, "I love you. I do not care if you refuse to reciprocate that love, for no matter what happens, I will love you beyond the end of my days. I know that such feelings seem inappropriate and strange, for we have known each other but a few weeks, but I cannot help the way my soul aches for you." She released his hands, and turned, defeated.
"Eowyn…" Aragorn trails off. The Shieldmaiden turns, her face betraying her emotions. "Please do not leave." He steps forward, and the two meet in a desperate kiss as all restraint fades away.
"No," Arwen whispers, and she feels her very soul chill. The kiss lasts but a moment, but it took only a moment for the Elf's heart to shatter into pieces.
***
All through the night, she watched, trapped in the nightmare, as Aragorn broke his promise to Arwen. She watched as the two kissed, watched as the two met in a bed of passion, their inner fires consuming each other. She wanted to avert her gaze, leave the dreamworld, but the nightmare held her.
With each kiss, with each moment of touch, her soul would further rend apart. Never before nor after had such an agony been felt. There is no greater pain than the pain of a lover betrayed.
And after those long hours of passion and betrayal, the nightmare ended, and Arwen departed from the dreamworld, leaving Aragorn asleep with the fair Eowyn in his arms.
Arwen Evenstar awoke in the golden morning's light, her soul trembling with brokenness, her face stained with bitter tears. All love had been lost in the dark night; she was void of all joy. She did not even attempt to console herself with the fact that it had only been a nightmare. She did not blind herself to the bitter truth. it had been more than a dark dream, it had been a vision.
As she lay in her bed, the void in her heart paralyzing her body, she felt the first glimmer of something she had not felt before. It was a faint light, far fainter than what her love had been, but it still lit the dark emptiness of her soul. The dim light fed on the darkness, fed on the brokenness and betrayal, and grew.
Hatred was consuming her soul.
Her tears dried, and Arwen rose, her hands clenched tightly into fists. She hated Aragorn, for his faithlessness. She hated Eowyn, for her passion. She hated herself, for not loving Aragorn enough, for not being with him, for not giving him enough reason to have faith in her.
"Arwen?" Arwen turned, her thoughts interrupted by Elrond's call.
"What is wrong, Arwen? I heard you cry out in the night, but I could not wake you." Elrond approached his daughter, and suddenly he saw the shadow upon her face.
"What has happened, Arwen?" He said, his eyes filled with concern.
"I am leaving, Ada." Her voice was quiet but harsh.
"To the Grey Havens?" He asked uncertainly. Elrond Peredhil was proud of the bond he shared with his daughter. In the years after his dear wife's departure, the two had become close. He had been able to sense his daughter's feelings, sometimes even her thoughts. But now there was a strange, black mist enshrouding Arwen.
"No," she whispered, and for a moment her face softened.
"To Aragorn?" Elrond guessed again, and a look of pure hatred came to Arwen's face. suddenly, all beauty fled her countenance, and Elrond new what had brought about the change in Arwen.
"My daughter-" he began.
"Goodbye, Father," Arwen said harshly, brushing past Elrond. Once exiting her quarters, she broke into a run, and she fled beautiful.
"Arwen!" Elrond called after her, but she did not turn or stop. He pursued her, but he could not catch her. And just as night once more came to Middle Earth, Arwen vanished into its shadow.
As days passed, and nights lingered, Elrond searched for his daughter, and did not find her. He returned to Rivendell with a heavy heart and bitter tears. Long did he mourn for Arwen, his beloved daughter.
Arwen was seen once more, by a young girl of Rohan on the plains of Edoras. She had changed much, her face was gaunt and sickly, her eyes dull and her body twisted. She was dressed in black, and the girl said she looked as if death itself. When news reached Elrond of the ghastly Elf, he knew it was his tormented.
After that, Arwen Umdomiel was never seen again. It is believed that she took her own life one dark night, filled with hatred for herself. The shadows of the night became her grave, and the howling wind at midnight her obituary.
The War of the Ring ended, and Aragorn was crowned King of Gondor, with Queen Eowyn at his side. Elrond attended the coronation, and later in the king's quarters informed Aragorn of his daughter's evident death.
"I did not know, my lord," Aragorn whispered in shock. "I had thought for certain she had departed to the Grey Havens."
"You assumed, Aragorn! You had no faith in Arwen, and your faithlessness cost her everything!" Elrond spat, his eyes misting with tears. "She loved you, but she exchanged that love, and all other love, for hate."
"I… I am sorry, Elrond," Aragorn murmured, tears trailing down his cheeks. "If I had known…"
"From henceforth, King Aragorn, consider any friendship between you and I dissolved," Elrond said, wiping the tears from his face. "I am leaving these shores now. Farewell, Aragorn." Elrond left Gondor, riding to the ship that would take him to his last hope.
***
My love I gave for hate,
not long my days will be.
My curses lie on her
that loves him after me.
Calm eye and golden hair,
speech sweet as cuckoo's stave;
For brows drawn fine as thread
My love for hate I gave.
White tongue and lips of red,
sweet tongue and gentle gait,
'tis sad it should be said---
My love I gave for hate.[pic]]