(AN: Sorry about the formatting mishap in the beginning, and thanks to reviewers who pointed it out.)
His little girl returned to Aman three ages later, worn, world-weary, and utterly alone.
No, not quite physically alone; for she arrived with two very short mortals, her own son-in-law, and the wise and steadfast Olorin whom she knew well since youth. Yet she looked alone, her eyes gazing at nothing and her mind wandering far. She had grown more beautiful in these long years, yet the light of her physical form could not mask the withering of her soul.
The sight of her cut Arafinwë to the bone, and he stood frozen, unable to move.
When he was reunited with Findaráto and Angaráto it was easy to embrace them and shed tears of joy. They had changed, no doubt, yet they were still near and familiar. But Artanis had changed beyond endearment.
It was Elrond who stepped forward first and paid his respect to the High King of Noldor, then he was swept away by the white arms of Celebrian. The two mortals offered their awkward bows and were quickly led away by Olorin, who offered the High King a polite half bow. Only then did Artanis step forward to greet her father. She kissed his hand and murmured, "I am here now, atarinya; I am sorry."
She had never looked so weary, so frail, and so lonely.
Arafinwë was suddenly furious.
When Celebrian first appeared on the shores of Aman, ill and miserable yet without her husband and children, Arafinwë had been angry too, but only for a while. Grudgingly he admitted there had been tasks weighty enough to detain Earendil's child in Middle-earth. What could possibly detain this stiff-necked Sinadarin prince now? There was nothing left for them there; Middle-earth was destined for the Second born and for them alone.
He took his little girl's hand and said, "Welcome home, daughter; you will never be alone again."
She gave him a long glance. Artanis never missed a single unsaid word and always understood him fully, so now, his well-masked anger was clear as day to her. And she smiled at him.
"I am never alone, atto," She said with a serenity that surged past her bone-deep weariness, "I am here now because there was no other way; I could no longer hold on to life there. He will come find me when he is ready. If not I shall go back to him, when I am rested and well. It matters not where one dwells."
Does it not? Would she cut herself away from her kin and kith once again? It seemed odd to him, that his fierce Nerwen would reduce her world to orbit a single being, a husband no less. As if sensing his thought, his daughter gave him another long look and a faint, pale smile, but she did not protest. She never argued with him. She argued with her uncle and King Nolofinwë, she waxed poetic before her people, but she never argued with her father. She did not argue at the beach of Alqualondë, not even after he had begun leveling accusations. She simply cast her bloodied sword into the sea, and left with a bow. Nor did she argue after the War of Wrath, surrounded by Valinorean hosts. Her declaration was simply that, a declaration of her intentions, no more, no less, neither commanding nor beseeching.
"I ask for no forgiveness," She said to her father, "Whether the passage west is open to me now or ever will not change my ways, for I am not to be bought with the pretense that is forgiveness for the innocent. Here I will stay, alongside my husband and our people, free as I have always been."
Arafinwë did not meet the husband then, for the war raged long and hard, and there were always too many tasks more pressing than meeting new family members by marriage. By the time the Valinorean host made ready to return home, Arafinwë no longer wished to meet the husband of his wayward child. He did not trust himself to exchange fair and courteous words with this upstart princeling who tethered his daughter to the blighted Hither Shore.
He would finally meet Celeborn of Doriath nearly a full yen later, at a reception hosted by King Olwë, who was overjoyed to finally receive the last descendent of his brother Elmo returning from across the Sundering Sea. Arafinwë vaguely understood that his wife and daughter must have conspired to make this the first meeting so he would have to be polite and pleasant. But he had not been Noldoran for three ages for nothing; if he desired a private audience with his son-in-law, not even Olwë could contradict him.
"I should thank you for finally releasing my daughter to sail into the West," So Arafinwë spoke, "Yet I have waited for two long ages, so you must forgive me if my gratitude ran dry many years ago."
Celeborn bowed his silver head, his manner still impeccable, even if his words were not equally demur. He said, "I am afraid I am not equal to such thanks, Noldoran, for I never held her, therefore I could not and cannot release her."
This prince was quite unlike his elders, then. His statuesque figure and starlit silver hair telegraphed the Telerin royal house from far, far away, yet his temperament was uniquely needling. He certainly did not have Olwë's genuine affability, nor was he soft-spoken and gentle like his grandfather Elmo, though his ire was not quite so blunt like that of Elwë Singollo.
Arafinwë asked, "Do you think that without you, she would have chosen to stay on the Hither Shore, away from everyone she loves, for two long ages?" It was not a fair question, not even a sincere one; he wondered if he had grown unreasonably bitter in his overlong separation with his daughter.
Celeborn replied, "I know not how she would have chosen then, but it matters not, my lord. Even when I disagreed with her choices, I did not begrudge her making them. It only pains me that in the end that choice was taken away from her."
Arafinwë was surprised, "What do you mean?"
"She did not choose to sail West then; with the fading of Celebrimbor's rings, her power was broken, and her soul overburdened," Celeborn closed his eyes briefly, "Had she stayed she would have faded, and her soul returned to the Blessed Realm all the same."
Arafinwë felt a small flare of anger, and he stated, "Knowing this, you let her sail alone."
But Celeborn stood his ground, "Just as I do not begrudge her choices, she does not begrudge mine."
"Knowing your wife was in sore need of healing, you chose to abandon her."
"I chose to remain in my home," Celeborn replied evenly, "To rebuild it in times of peace, to see land and water and trees living with life renewed, and to see whether the only land I had ever known can still be an elven home in a new age. As I said, she knows my choice and understands it, and she would not begrudge it."
"And seeing life renewed in Ennor, why then did you decide to sail in the end?"
"Because the Hither Shore was destined for the Secondborn and for them alone; I was loath to believe it, yet I saw it clearly in the end," Celeborn sighed, "I did not sail for her alone; were that the case, I would not have chosen many years of parting. Just as long ago she did not stay for me alone, my lord, if you can believe it."
Arafinwë fell silent for a long while, and at last he asked, "Then what did my daughter stay for?"
Celeborn's eyes gained a faraway look in them, and he murmured, "For our people, for the memory of Elu Thingol and Queen Melian, for new lands and new friends, for a chance to satisfy the explorer in her free of the cloud of vengeance. Aye, she stayed for many things, and I can scarcely name them all."
And Arafinwë marveled, still a shade grudgingly, "You chose to be parted from her, yet you are a strong advocate for all that she is."
"We can be apart in body and spirit, for are we not two souls each with its own part in the music of the One? Yet I would not be parted from her in understanding."
"I see it now," Arafinwë murmured.
Knowing his father-in-law was as close to placated as could be, Celeborn bowed, "With your leave then, my lord."
Arafinwë nodded but added softly, "Will it be 'my lord' forever more, prince?"
To which the prince of Doriath bowed once more, "As you wish, atarinya."