Song: For Guinevere, from the point of view of Sir Lancelot.
Characters: Arwen and Aragorn
All credit goes to Heather Dale for writing this lovely song, to Tolkien for writing these characters and story, and to Peter Jackson for bringing the incredible story to life.
With all the years between us –
..I know your heart...
You know I'd never lie.
She stood before him, feeling, as she always did, somehow bare under his gaze. His eyes were those that could pierce the nonsense of society and the shrewdness of long living the moment he laid eyes on a person. She knew this, and though this was one of the things she cherished most about him, it seemed now like fire – warm from a distance, but scathing the skin.
Let other people judge us
With all their own assumptions
You know with me you never have to hide.
For a long moment she stood thus, her heart feeling as if it would break in two. She did not wish to deceive him. But his eyes sought a clear answer, which she could not give. How could she, when she hardly knew herself?
"Arwen," he said gently, warm hand resting on her shoulder, willing her to enter the embrace. She did so gladly, pressing her face to him and allowing the tension to flow from her as the tears traced free paths down her cheeks. "You can tell me," he murmured.
"I would tell you anything. Anything at all that I knew."
We'll never be those wide-eyed kids who fell in love then,
We'll never fit inside those narrow lines again.
"Things used to be so much simpler," she managed at last, taking in a deep breath. His hand went to and fro over her hair. "Before these dark days."
"They were no more simple then," he returned, stepping back and looking into her eyes. "We were still divided as children. They would say, 'Look at that elf maid playing with the human boy." He gestured as one watching from afar.
"I would not let them bar you out."
"I never felt that I did not belong here," he said, smiling ever so slightly. "Yet I played in my head that I was an elf."
We could pretend, we could pretend.
But that never suited us somehow.
"Go back," she whispered. "Go back to how things were."
Aragorn shook his head. "We cannot. It is no use to imagine so, and I would not have you wish it. Do you hate what we have become so much?"
She shook her head, her dark locks obscuring her shapely ears, veiling their fine points.
"No. It is infinitely better."
"Then why do you wish us back?" he pressed gently.
"Because it is so difficult..."
"It is not in our nature to turn back when the road becomes rough," he replied, taking her hand. She looked at their fingers intertwined and drew strength from the sight.
Love is endlessly surprising,
Too precious to be squandered –
I'll always be your lover, I'll always be your shoulder.
And I don't care how far they say we've wandered.
Lord Elrond's face was unreadable. Arwen lifted her chin ever so slightly. "I am yours to command."
"This is most unexpected..." he murmured, rising, his robes pooling about him like the strong tides of the forest falls. "I do not wish to command you in this."
Her lips trembled. "I wish that you would." His brows furrowed, as she continued, "For I do not know my own heart in the matter."
"I am sure that you do," he replied simply. "Though your road may separate from the well-beaten path."
They think the only road is where they're heading,
But you and I were meant to sail upon the sea.
She returned to him, resolute. "They all sail with the tide."
"Your place is among them," he said into her ear.
"My place is with you."
We could pretend, we could pretend,
But that never suited us somehow.
It was as if the breaking waves had crashed over them both, bringing first the pressure and suffocation, then the buoyancy of release. "Do you trust me to that extent?" he said, fighting to keep his voice steady.
So trust me now.
I'll never weigh you like an anchor;
I hope you'll always see me there inside your sail.
The leaves of the autumning fell about them, as if a token of forgotten days and of bleakness yet to come. The forest floor where once a dark-haired elf and a bold lad had romped were veiled in red, yellow, and brown: the red of blood, the yellow of wilt, and the brown of despairing things. Everything but the green of new life.
I can see you're always worrying,
What they'd say if they found out.
...If you'd only listen...
He strode in with a purposed step, his cloak bearing the dust of the road and his face wearing the marks of struggle and strife. She rose and went to him.
"Your time will come," she murmured in his ear, and as he closed his eyes he could hear the roar of a multitude, loyal to his right.
It might surprise them
What this choice is actually about.
"I do not seek a different way of life," he returned. "Only peace and prosperity for our land, and health and happiness for ourselves." His hand caressed her, and the hope of new life, and as her hand rose to his brow, her cool touch was as a crown resting there. He closed his eyes. "This is not what the battle is for."
We don't apologize for what we share between us,
And every day we seem to fall in love again.
His love could not fill the gap left in her heart by her father's departure. But somehow, though her years were being quickly spent alongside the mortal she chose, she was happy. He could sense the life waning from her as each day passed; something common in humankind, but strange in an elf.
We could pretend, we could pretend.
We could pretend, we could pretend.
"Is mother dying?" the dark-haired child asked, and stooping, Aragorn could not but answer him. His blue eyes burned bright. "She will die just like all of us one day," he said, his voice hatefully steady, though his heart faltered within him. In that moment he prayed the Valar that he would pass before her.
We could pretend, we could pretend,
But that never suited us somehow.
And as they stood before the white gathering, shouts filling the air, she had never been prouder of him. Deception, fear, and sorrow were gone. He met her eyes and he seemed to say wordlessly to her: "I knew all along."
So trust me now.
Trust me now.
Trust me now.
