Enguina hurried up the front steps to the Houses of Healing, Erumar calling after her to slow down. She could not of course; she and Erumar had headed to the King's House this morning and been informed by none other than Hildanir that the Queen had been at the Healers since late last evening and that their presence was requested. Enguina had forgotten all about feeling slightly under-the-weather herself and had taken off down the stone street, worried sick. Both of them were, of course, but Enguina was especially worried. Had they not spoken of how they should not have left her alone last night? Oh how she cursed herself!

"Where is she?" Enguina asked the first healer she saw. It happened to be Hilta.

"She is fine, my La—"

"Where?" she asked, concern in every feature of her face. Erumar reached the top step behind her, but just as the woman began to point down the hall, she was off, not waiting one more moment. Behind her, she could hear Erumar apologizing; she did not have time for apologies! Her friend was ill! Her friend was injured! Her friend was—

She took pause at the threshold of the door, studying the quiet sight within. Arwen sat upon the bed, her hands unwrapped, her face pale. She had pillows behind her, supporting her back; Enguina could tell. Part of her hair was braided and then tied back with a ribbon—Aragorn's doing, no doubt. He sat at her side, holding her hands and speaking in a low voice, their heads nearly together, both of them bowed. A breakfast tray sat, untouched, nearby.

She made no movement or noise, but it seemed Aragorn had a sense for those things. He finally turned his head and smiled. "Here they are; we never doubted you, Enguina." Arwen lifted her head as well; her smile was intact, but it was embarrassed. Enguina wanted to blurt out a thousand questions as she stared at them both. Instead, she tried first for some tact.

"I did not want to intrude," she said, but she immediately came near. They had been praying, and she felt awkward walking in on them. "What happened? What are you doing here? Were you ill? Did you—"

"I will leave Arwen to tell you what she will," Aragorn said softly. "But she is doing much better now and we are very glad you came. Where is—oh, there she is."

"Forgive me," Erumar said as she entered. "Enguina was running."

"I was worried!"

"We both were," admitted Erumar, looking at Arwen. "I am terribly glad to see you awake and well; that is far more than we had hoped for when we heard." She looked over to Aragorn and smiled. "And you; how was your journey?"

"It was a good break from the Council," he replied. "However, that is where I am off to this morning, and sadly, am already late." His tone was full of regret. "I am the sole report for Rammas Echor; it is my…duty…to attend." Erumar caught the gentle tightening of Arwen's hand in his. "I would prefer to be here," he said more softly, "but I must go."

"Stay for even a few minutes?" asked Enguina, frowning. "We have seen so little of you."

He bowed his head. "I will be back at noon; Arwen will be staying until at least tonight." He smiled. "Enguina, you may take my place as I know you have a desire to do." He stood slowly so the bed did not shift very much, but he leaned down, resting a hand on either side of her, his face close to hers. Erumar averted her eyes, leaving them the private moment, but Enguina studied him, and her. Their eyes locked, their communication all silent, within their heads. Both of their eyes closed, he pressed his lips to her forehead and then her hair as he ran his hand along her head.

"I love you," he whispered into her hair, and she mouthed the words in reply, seemingly unable to speak for a moment. He pulled back from her and stepped back from the bed, leaving room for Enguina. As she moved to take his place and Erumar came to sit on the other side of the bed, he laid a hand on her arm.

"Before I take my leave," he said, glancing between the two of them, "I want to thank you, both of you, for finding Arwen in the Tombs yesterday. I heard you had quite a turn with the gate-keeper."

Erumar blushed. "It was just a scratch."

"It was an argument," Enguina said firmly. "He was extremely loyal, but completely impossible. We needed to get to her, so we did what we had to."

"And we are grateful," he assured her. "I simply wanted to thank you for caring for her when I could not be here."

"Of course," Erumar said, taking a seat and setting Arwen's breakfast tray on her lap. She noticed that Arwen's eyes had not yet strayed from Aragorn's face. "We were very glad that we could be of use."

"Thank Ilúvatar for Erumar's swiftness!" Enguina said gratefully.

"Indeed," Aragorn said with a smile. "You were highly praised, and Kithal quite laughed at, in good-humor, of course. Out-foxed by two women and all that."

Erumar looked away. "We never meant to—"

"Of course not," he said. "Still, nothing so exciting has happened on his watch in many years." He nodded toward the tray in Erumar's lap. "If you would be so kind as to convince her that she is hungry this morning, that would be useful. She cannot leave until she eats and it stays down without difficulty. She knows, but…" His hand reached back and stroked Arwen's face from temple to chin as he smiled. "She might need some encouragement."

"You can rely on us, Aragorn," Enguina replied, sitting down beside her finally. "We will be here all day long annoying her."

"One would expect no less," he said with a bit of a grin. "Until lunch then, my Ladies." He moved away from them, looked back once more from the doorway…and then he was gone. Enguina and Erumar's eyes fell upon Arwen then, and she knew that she needed to speak first.

"Good morning to you both," she said, her voice still soft as her throat was still sore. "Thank you for coming to keep me company. I hope Hildanir did not make things sound too urgent."

"We did not listen to him as much as we should have," Erumar admitted. "We barely gave him time enough to finish his first sentence before we left him. He probably thought us quite rude."

"Or concerned," Enguina said. "We could think of nothing else but coming here to be beside you." She reached out, turning one of Arwen's hands over within her own. Find something safe to talk about before you explode with questions. "Your hands look better today."

"Yes," Arwen replied as Erumar looked at the other, "the Healers have been at work with a salve they were trying. It works better on skin than on puncture wounds."

Erumar smiled. "Yes, the…holes are still fading. Your back is still—?"

She nodded. "Yesterday did not help at all, and last night I…I fell…but it is a little better than it was. The tea has been helping, and Aragorn has been helping," she added softly. "Yes, it is a little better," she repeated.

Enguina's eyes were on her. "You fell? Where? When? Did you leave the House even after we told you not to and you promised us? What—"

"I fell in the House, in the sitting room," she replied, embarrassed. "I did not leave." She knew she could say that she did not want to talk about it, but she was tired of the hiding, whether from Aragorn or them, and being open and laid bare was refreshing for a change. She had told Enguina most of the truth already, and without a doubt Erumar knew as well…so what else was there that she had not spoken of? "I did something so foolish when I woke last night, before Aragorn returned."

"Why did you fall?" Erumar asked. "Were you unsteady?"

"I could not breathe," Arwen answered honestly, though tears sprang to her eyes. "Oh, when you hear what…foolishness I committed last night…you will know I am mad."

"Certainly not madder than I," Erumar said gently.

"Arwen, tell us," added Enguina, "and we will not think you a fool. You have been underneath so much stress recently—"

"When I went to the library the other day, I was also researching…several things that I thought might help me bear a child," she whispered, ashamed; she still had been unable to forgive herself. "I had heard rumors about an herb that might…help. Instead of trusting Ilúvatar, instead of clinging and running to my faith in this difficult time, I sought to help myself in my own way." Her eyes closed as she sighed, looking down at the hands that were still healing. "I was, I am, such a fool. I took the herbs with tea and I returned to the divan to lie down.

"I woke; I do not know how much later it was, but I could hardly breathe. There was a terrible weight in my chest, my throat was nearly swollen closed, and my stomach was in so much pain I was doubled over almost from the moment I awoke. I felt as though I was burning up; my ears were on fire. I ignored my back which is the reason I hurt it, but I tried everything before getting up to breathe—taking deep breaths, tilting my head back—nothing worked. I knew something terrible was happening, and when I did go for the door, I fell, half-dazed." She shook her head. "When I hit the floor, it became even more difficult to breathe and I was struck by fear, clutching at my throat. I barely remember what happened after that. Aragorn had to tell me. It was he who found me on the floor when he arrived."

"Thank Ilúvatar!" cried Enguina. "How soon—"

"It felt like forever, and the longer I lay there, the harder it was to breathe," she said. "Aragorn said that if he had been minutes later, I may have been dead." She shook her head. "When he arrived at the stable, he asked Hildanir to look after Brego; thank Ilúvatar he did. I was such a fool."

Enguina's eyes filled with tears, and Erumar squeezed Arwen's hand. "The herb…Monk's Pepper?" Arwen nodded, shame filling her face. "Oh, dearest, how were you to know? You never had any cause to know a thing about it. So long ago that it nearly seems like another life, I once looked into it myself. Do not be so ashamed." If Arwen was surprised, she did not appear so.

"I only wish that I had been able to trust Ilúvatar before such foolishness. I should have trusted him…but it has been so hard." She reached up and brushed tears from one of her eyes, then she looked at both of them. "Please…I know that I already have asked so much of both of you, and I have not been myself recently, but please…this struggle is going to be daily," she admitted and her voice grew soft and sad. "There are times when it will be overwhelming…times when it may consume me…times when I cannot let it go. Please understand: I want to be able to say that I will want to be with you both every moment, but there may be moments I wish to be alone. In those moments, will you please continue to pray for me?" She swallowed. "I do not mean to hurt either of you. I—"

"Arwen, we remember this pain," Erumar said. "We know that you have been hurt."

"I was here in the months following your recovery from the miscarriage," Enguina murmured. "I know that the only thing that helped was when Aragorn held you. He was not here last night; that was the reason we did not want to leave you."

"Ilúvatar needed to remind me how sovereign he is," Arwen said. "If I…if I had not been reduced the way I was last night…I may not have been as truthful with Aragorn, with you both, as I needed to be. It was difficult, and I may not be excellent company today. I am not completely well yet; my throat is so sore, I have been running a fever since last night, and I am utterly exhausted."

"And you still have eaten nothing," added Erumar, holding out some cornbread to her. "You need to eat and regain your strength."

Arwen eyed it as she took it, nibbling the edge of it. "So far, nothing has stayed down," she said. "My stomach is still rebelling against food. The tea has been fine, but anything else has made its return." She frowned as Enguina grimaced. "Today may not be pleasant for either of you. You do not need to stay."

"Yes, we do," returned Enguina. "So…you and Aragorn finally spoke?"

Arwen met her eyes. "Yes," she said softly. "It was hard…but it was necessary."

"And everything has been sorted then," Erumar said. "Thank Ilúvatar. We have been so worried for you. We know that you have been afraid of his thoughts, though why you think he would judge you, I do not know. He is the least judgmental person; slow to anger, quick to forgive."

"In my…fear…I forgot his character."

"And his love for you," Enguina stated. "He loves you more than anything."

Arwen smiled and took another bite of the cornbread. "I do know that."

Enguina laid her hand on her belly. "Ugh…I might be lying down with you shortly."

"Oh, it was all that running," Erumar said, rolling her eyes. "You needed to take it easy and instead you were all worked up."

Arwen raised her eyebrows at her. "Please do; what is mine is yours." Enguina immediately made room for herself to curl up on her side, which she did. "You do seem pale today."

"Not half as pale as you," Enguina replied. "I was feeling a bit miserable this morning, but I forgot about what I was feeling in all the running about over you."

"Dizzy? Light-headed?" she asked and Enguina nodded.

"A little."

"You need some water," Erumar advised. "You are probably just thirsty, as you have not had breakfast yet."

"No breakfast?" Arwen asked. "Why did you—"

"Because we were looking for you, silly!" Enguina said. "We did not think about breakfast after we had heard you were here."

"Let me see if Hilta will—"

"I will see to it," said Erumar, laying the tray she was holding on Arwen's lap. "You eat, and then Enguina and I are going to be quiet for a little while so you can rest."

Enguina put on her best pouting face. "Must we?"

"Erumar, really—" Arwen began.

"I would like for you to be out of here by the end of the day; is that not what you want?" she asked, and Arwen nodded. "Then stop arguing with me. Let me see to breakfast." She turned and headed out into the hallway.

Enguina reached over and tweaked Arwen's toe. "Was your conversation with Aragorn the most uncomfortable of your life?"

Arwen sighed and gave Enguina a rueful smile. "The most," she admitted, "followed closely by the one on our wedding night."

"Mmm," she said, closing her eyes. "Now you understand what I felt when I had to explain my dreams to Legolas. Telling the truth costs something, does it not?"

"Yes," Arwen agreed, studying her face. "But it is worth the pain of going through it."

"I agree," Enguina replied, "but that does not make it hurt any less." She looked at her. "You are still going to be thinking about it, still dreaming about it…the only thing that has changed is that you shared it with someone, so they can help shoulder your burden. The looks and the words from the people will not change."

"I know," Arwen said, her voice still soft. "I need to stop letting it affect me so…but I do not know if that is possible. I will try."

"We will be here for you, you know. You can talk with me."

"Thank you," she said honestly. "I know, Enguina. I truly do."

It was the lunch hour, and Nardur steepled his fingers and stared across the table at Ethring.

"What happened?" he asked, confused. "I thought you had taken care of this."

Ethring snorted. "How was I supposed to know that she would nearly die taking the herb? That does not happen to regular people."

"You were supposed to investigate the herb, Ethring," Nardur chided him. "Something such as this was a mistake that should not have happened." He shook his head with a sigh, and found Ethring studying him. "What? What is it?"

Ethring shrugged. "You have quite a bruise."

Nardur laughed. "Indeed! The King got a bit carried away with his irritation at me the other morning. It is fine; simply ignore it. Have you seen the Queen today?"

"I know that the other elves went to visit her," added Ethring. "I also saw that yesterday, early evening, our two friends confronted the Lady near the Stables."

"Our two friends?" Nardur questioned, and then realized what Ethring meant. "Gildion and Vändir?" he said incredulously. "The two of them were together?"

"Yes, and they were quite sloshed—"

"Well, that is Vändir," scoffed Nardur, "always nearly drunk by the evening. But it is very interesting for the two of them to be together. Did you overhear any of their conversation?"

"It was fairly vile," he admitted. "Gildion was verbally abusive and slanderous; I will admit I wanted to hit him in the teeth myself. Vändir tried to reason with her, make her understand how important it was that she realize that she was barren and that she needed to allow her husband to lie with another woman in order to bear him an heir. At least, that was what I understood from overhearing just a tiny piece of the conversation."

"How did she take it?"

"As well as expected; clearly not as physical as the King," he pointed out. "Not well, I would say; she hurried to escape and then wandered down into the Silent Street. I did not see her leave." He nodded at Nardur. "However, it is clear that everything has been affecting them as much as you hoped."

"Well," Nardur sighed, "I do not know yet if this incident will prove useful; the only purpose it seems to have served right now is to bring the two of them together again. But that will change soon enough. We shall have a report any day now that will send a legion of our troops and the King out into the North."

"You sound quite certain."

"Quite," he agreed. "Perhaps we can work on the Queen while he is away. It will be much easier without him to influence and encourage her." He gave a little smile. "I am still waiting on some other news that I have the possibility of uncovering. I will make you aware of it, as you have kept me. Excellent work as usual, Ethring."

"Thank you," he replied, bowing his head.

Aragorn made his way into the Houses for the second time that day, but this time he did not go directly to Arwen's room. Instead, he turned into a different room where the Healers were gathered. It was evening, so there were very few Healers. Aragorn smiled when he saw the round, old woman near the wall, in the process of folding several blankets.

"Hilta," he said softly, not wanting to startle her, "may I speak with you?"

"Oh, heavens! My Lord, I'd no idea you were there," she scolded after clearly being startled anyway. "I'm assuming you've come for your wife. The other ladies left only an hour or so ago."

He nodded. "They stayed through dinner then. That was kind of them."

"The Lady Enguina was tired; I think that's why they went out. The Queen was asleep when I looked in on her not ten minutes ago."

"She is ready to go home then?"

Hilta frowned. "Talf and I agree that she still needs rest and her back isn't quite in its best state. She eats like a bird, that one; never gains an ounce! Makes the Master terribly worried about her condition; never gained anything in the last four years since 'er sickness. And potent tea on a stomach like that; I'll never understand it!"

Aragorn smiled at her fretting, knowing that Arwen must have been gently redirecting her for several hours at least. "Perhaps her stomach is still not quite right," he offered. "I am sorry if she has caused you trouble all day. Has she been a terrible patient?"

Hilta looked horrified. "No, my King! The Queen's been a dear! She'll probably do better at home and away from all of us hanging on the bell at her beck and call, which she never did. I'm glad the ladies were 'ere with her, though. Too much quiet isn't good for a mind like hers…makes 'er think too much. She's right to go, the Master said, as he knew you'd be along for her."

"Thank you, Hilta. Will you thank Talf for me?" he said. "The compassion you have for those in your care is beyond compare. I know my wife is grateful."

"We're glad that she's well again," she said, and he bowed his head to her with a smile.

He turned back out of the room and followed the hallway to Arwen's room. Upon entering, he stopped at the foot of the bed, studying her features and watching her sleep. Her fever was clearly gone, and finally she lay on her side in her natural state of sleep. That made him feel better; she had turned herself, which showed she was feeling stronger. He was glad, for this afternoon had been long; he had wanted to be with her, but instead he had fielded all sorts of questions about her health and then atop that he had to look into Nardur's sneering face most of the day. This served to make his blood boil, even after seeing the mark he had left on the man—that should have embarrassed him, yet it did not. He could have cared less if Nardur had told the entire Council that he hit him in the face; he deserved it for what he had said…and what Aragorn assumed that he was involved in even if he would never have been able to prove it. He wished he knew for certain.

His gaze darkened as he looked at her, lying there so innocently. If he ever found out that Nardur was somehow part of this, that he was sowing thoughts into his wife's head that she was not good enough to bear him a son or that another was needed…oh, if he discovered this, he would have him in the stocks for plotting against the throne. The man must have a death wish in order to take this as far as he had. One more word to her or about her and he was going to act. He straightened his spine and stretched his shoulders; he loved her too much to have these other men interfering and hurting her.

Aragorn went to her side and sat down on the bed, leaning his arm over her, resting his hand behind her back and looking down into her face. She blinked drowsily from the heat of him, not from him rocking the bed; she had truly been out. He bent down and pressed his lips to her temple.

"Good evening, lovely one," he said and her face flushed with pleasure at his words as she turned her head to look at him.

"What time is it?" she asked, blinking long; he could tell she was trying to drag herself up out of the depths of sleep. He could not help but smile, tracing a finger along her chin.

"It is time for you to return to the House, so you can do the same thing there that you are doing here."

"Stare at you?" she asked softly, raising an eyebrow.

He chuckled. "Get some more rest. Did you sleep away the afternoon? Or did Erumar and Enguina do their duty and entertain you…and make you eat? Hilta said you ate like a bird all day."

She smiled warmly. "Hilta…did she really say that? She is so concerned. It would not be the first time," she admitted, "that I would not be so hungry. My body does not return to wanting food that quickly. She does not understand."

"No," he agreed. "She is right, though…you do eat like a bird sometimes. Simply picking." He raised his eyebrows at her. "Sometimes I feel like I cannot let you out of my sight or you might disappear." She rolled her eyes. "So…did Enguina and Erumar let you rest?"

"They had to leave because Enguina was tired. She did not rest well last night—probably because they were worried—and she was not feeling the best today. I slept for almost half an hour this morning, and from when they left…but no, we were talking."

"You barely slept last night," he said, stroking her face. "You need to recover your strength."

"I thought I would be fine today," she said honestly.

"You went through trauma, Arwen…you have been going through trauma," he replied gently. "You struggled to survive last night, and you need to rest." He withdrew his hand from her face and laid it on her side, still leaning on his other. "How is your back feeling? Do you want to walk home or may I carry you?"

"You are simply looking for an excuse to carry me."

He nodded. "I will admit that I was."

"I think I have made a demonstration enough of myself, have I not?" she said softly. "I think I can walk well enough beside you. My back is feeling better than it was this morning. With another day or so, I should be right as rain." She lifted a hand and laid it over his. "If we are leaving, I should dress."

"I suppose everything you have said is true." He straightened and let her sit up. He watched her solicitously as she gathered herself to get up; she had not since last evening, but she seemed steady enough as she dressed.

Within moments, she was ready and the two of them said farewell to Hilta where she reminded Arwen of taking it easy and doing nothing strenuous and to eat more food. Aragorn walked beside her, her hand through his arm, this time quiet. She thought she knew what he might be thinking of, but she was not about to interrupt him. There were several guards who passed by them, wishing her glad tidings, and they knew it would only be an hour before most of Minas Tirith knew that she was well again. It felt good to be walking, and the stones were comfortable beneath her feet. As they were drawing near the House, she finally spoke.

"It is a beautiful night," she said, lifting her eyes to the stars. "The breeze is just enough to make a cool summer evening. August is not usually this cool."

"A perfect night," Aragorn agreed. "Forgive me, I was thinking of last night."

"I know," she said. "After ten years of marriage, it is difficult to hide anything."

He shook his head as he led her up the steps. "Yet sometimes we still try. It is both a blessing and a curse, is it not?" He hesitated as he opened the door for her. "Shall we sit on the porch for a little while?" I want to talk to you, and it is a beautiful night.

She paused. "In the back," she replied, taking his hand and leading him inside. Passing through the House, they finally came to the cushioned bench that they had placed outside for just that reason. Taking seats beside one another, he took her hands in his own.

"Arwen, do you understand what I said last night?"

Last night, the heat of the moment, was over. It was the way he said the words that made her remember specifically what he was referring to. He did not want to have the whole conversation again, when she was not feverish and in less pain, only part of it. He was reiterating the part that was most important to him, the part that was weighing on him, on her…he knew it. Sometimes, she was amazed by him, by his impressive powers of understanding, by his perceptiveness. How could he know her heart like that? She wanted to believe his words, his pledge; she longed for it with her whole heart. Nodding, she sighed softly, trying to release her troubled thoughts. She could not look at him.

"And you do believe me?"

"Oh, Aragorn…" she whispered, and this time she could not avoid the grey eyes that were searching for hers, surprised by her tone. "I know that whatever you speak is truth; I cannot imagine my life without your steadfast honesty. See, you cannot lie; it is your downfall." Her lips trembled in the force of her sadness. "But there are moments when I worry that you do not understand your own heart; this is one of those times." She knew she had hurt him with her words; she could see it in his eyes. Her voice lowered as she gripped his hands. "Can you honestly tell me that if we are forever unable to conceive a child, you will be content for the rest of your days?"

If he had not been thinking about this for the last four years and most intensely today, perhaps he would have had to think about it. As it was, he already knew the answer to her question.

"Yes," he said, and she could see the truth of his answer in her eyes.

"Will you be happy?" she blurted out, tears suddenly filling hers. In her heart, she did not want to know the answer; she was terrified of it. He drew her hands to his chest and looked at her earnestly, his eyes full of his devotion to her.

"Yes, I will be happy."

She frowned sadly at his misguided nature. "Oh, Aragorn…because you will be with me?"

"Arwen…I have spent my entire life waiting for you," he whispered intensely. "I have been waiting to spend every possible moment in your presence, making up for each moment we have been apart and for every year I spent alone. You are my life."

He could feel her anguish. "You can be happy without a child…"

"I desire a child with you, Arwen," he said honestly. "Yet I will remain happy if that desire goes unmet. I love you more than that desire. I will never leave you; I will not forsake our marriage, our love, for a child, to be a father. I know that is what you want for me…but I want you more. You are all I need to be happy. I love you more than the desire for a child," he repeated, making certain that she heard it, that she understood.

He saw sudden terror in her eyes. "What if…what if I can never be happy? What if I need a child to be happy?" Her breath caught as tears rolled down her face and her hands grew clammy as he held them. What does that make me? Where does that leave us?

He slipped his arms around her and held her against his chest. "You are in pain, beloved," he said to her gently. "It is fresh again, hard to bear…you cannot expect to be able to answer that question right now. Always, you lay blame at your feet, always you cast expectations upon yourself and strain and hardship. Let it go…do not ask the question of your heart and force an answer. It does not need to be answered at this moment."

"It does," she said, grief-stricken, her forehead pressed firmly to his chest. "It does because it changes everything! It will change me, and it…it will destroy our marriage!" The last words were whispered so brokenly that tears came to Aragorn's eyes. "I want you to be a father…but I want so badly to be a mother. It is a need…a desire that is driving me, and it is wrong," she choked out. "To have such covetousness, at times I can see nothing else? This is wrong! Yet how can I get past it? How can I overcome this all-consuming need?"

He drew her away from him and rested his forehead against hers. "You cannot," he whispered, "but Ilúvatar can. Every time you think of it, you must give it to him. It will not go away, not like you are asking. But you must keep giving it to him, and asking for strength, for peace. I will help you bear it; I will comfort you; I will pray with you, and for you; and I will love you," he pledged.

"I wish I could pretend that everything is all right," she said as his thumbs rubbed her cheeks again. "I wish I could pretend that I am whole, that I do not have this aching wound in my heart that is the absence of our son," she gasped as her hand clutched her heart. "Every time someone mentions it, I feel it getting wider. Sometimes I can forget for a little while, but it is always there. At times like this it is ever-present. I…I wanted him so much, Estel."

"I know, beloved," he said gently, trying to speak around the lump in his throat. I wanted him, too; I understand your sadness…I know how much you hurt.

Oh she knew that he understood. There was as much grief in him as there was in her over their loss. He was just as grieved as her when someone would mention the baby. She thought about how often he must pray in order to overcome the pain as he had, as she could not seem to do. She wanted his peace so desperately, his contentment in her, his happiness in just having her, and her alone. She would destroy their marriage if she could never be happy; it was because of his devotion, his fidelity that he had not already allowed the thought into his heart that forever with him was not enough. Suddenly, she realized that it was exactly what she was saying: he was not enough…he would suddenly never be enough.

Arwen unwrapped her fingers from her tunic and spread them out against his chest, feeling his heartbeat, once again thinking of the rhythm of her life. She had given her whole life in eternity with her mother and father to be with him, to have eternity with him alone in Firn-i-Guinar, to sacrifice everything sacred to her people for a single man. For so long…she had been deliriously happy. Why, suddenly, was that not enough now? Or was Aragorn right—was it only that her pain was so fresh and so intense that she could feel nothing else? And what did it mean to be truly happy? Was it about having something that you could never live without? She had lived without a child for nearly three thousand years, and never once until she had found love and shared life with Aragorn, had she missed one, had she wanted to be a mother. She had lived without Aragorn for the same amount of time, and she had yearned for someone to share her life with. Ilúvatar had answered her prayer, and given her Aragorn.

Father, you have broken me…help me understand what I am feeling.

There was only one thing in her entire existence she could not live without. There were things she wanted, yes. And there were things that she thought she could not live without, but if she were forced to, she could give them up. Ilúvatar had given her one thing she could never live without, and she was in his arms. There was no way, in heaven or on earth, that she could live without Aragorn, had known it from the day he had left Imladris after she had first met him. The pain of living without and losing and never being able to have a child was agonizing and brutal, and the most terrible thing she had ever faced, but it was just that—it was something to face, to stand against. She could still survive; she could still live; and she would one day be happy again without the grief slapping her down.

Father…everything in my life is small compared to losing him. Everything. Oh…thy will be done!

She tilted her chin, tears on her face, and he could see something different in her eyes as she met his. "I would…I would die without you," she whispered. "Do you know that? Do you understand? If I did not have you, holding me, telling me these truths and reminding me of your unfailing, unending love and that of Ilúvatar…I would simply not exist."

"I love you," he whispered fervently. "I will continue to love you until the end of all time."

"Ilúvatar has given me all I need in you," she replied. "I lost sight of that in all of my grief, but I cannot live without you. You are right; the pain of my grief is all consuming sometimes, but it is only pain…it will fade with time, and I will accept it…and I will still have you to hold. You are enough. You are."

"You do not need to reassure me," he told her. "I believe every word from your heart; I can see it in your eyes."

"Ilúvatar gave me everything I could possibly need for my entire lifetime in the gift that you are," she whispered. "As long as I have you, I will have everything I need. This storm…it will pass."

"In time," he agreed, sliding a hand around to the back of her neck and rubbing his thumb along the place where he had left a mark a week ago now. There was only a slight raise in her skin; she smiled.

"In Ilúvatar's time," she added. Then she raised her eyebrows. "I think about that night, too."

He smiled, settling into teasing her, and glad of it. "Who said I was thinking about that night?"

"The heat of your skin," she admitted. "The way your pulse increased."

"I was thinking about kissing you, if I was into telling the truth."

"I would like that very much," she murmured, and he did lean into her then, pressing his lips to hers. She continued to feel the rhythm of his heart beneath her hand and she sighed when he broke away, letting his forehead rest against hers again. "I have missed this feeling of closeness, of knowing everything about one another…no secrets lying between us. I promise to never hide anything from you ever again."

"We made our promises last night," he teased. "Unless there is something else you have not told me?"

Her heart bottomed out as she thought of her dream with the dark-haired woman. "No…" she said, but her hesitation made his heart stutter. "I mean to say…I think something I have been dreaming was from my fear of having to give you up." He knew what she meant, of making the sacrifice for them to have a child. "I do not think it will bother me again."

"You are not giving me up," he murmured, this time against her mouth. "I will not let you."

Her eyes closed as she kissed him again, long and slow. "Thank Ilúvatar for his many blessings." Just having his arms around her was enough to bring her peace tonight. Her heart would take time to heal again, but she was happy. She loved him…and Ilúvatar knew that it was enough.