Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own Aragorn (aww man) or any of Tolkein's
other charaters, songs, and ideas about Middle-Earth. The next chapter (and
probably some more to come) contains dialogue written by Tolkein, though I
have embellished it and added more…
Hey, by the way, whenever they're in Rivendell or speaking with Elves, it's safe to assume they're all speaking Elvish, ok? I've been writing everything in English because I really just don't know enough Elvish to do otherwise (which is a shame, it's such a pretty language).
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Aragorn walked happily through the old, lush forest, his hand idly brushing against every tree he passed. His heart was high within him and he felt more free and confidant than he had ever in his life. It was a calm, beautiful spring evening, and the sun was just beginning to set and the faint sound of rushing water could be heard beneath the young man's singing.
"The leaves were long, the grass was green,
The hemlock-umbels tall and fair,
And in the glade a light was seen
Of stars in shadow shimmering.
Tinúviel was dancing there
To music of a pipe unseen,
And light of stars was in her hair,
And in her raiment glimmering."
For some reason, he had always had a special fondness for this tale. He was intrigued by the strangeness of how Beren had been so blessed as to receive the love of such a fair, celestial creature. And he had also developed an odd infatuation Luthien, though he knew her not, and was to him like a character in a story that you somehow felt you knew.
"There Beren came from mountains cold,
And lost he wandered under leaves,
And where the Elven-river rolled
He walked alone and sorrowing.
He peered between the hemlock-leaves
And saw in wonder flowers of gold
Upon her mantle and her sleeves,
And her hair like shadow following."
He continued on through the story, for once not caring that his voice might not match the beauty of the song, or the wonderful voices of Elves he loved so well. The sun peaked out from the West, between leaves, nearing her destination for the night. And all of a sudden, she was there! Luthien Tinuviel, daughter of Thingol! She had returned from legend and song, journeyed from the Halls of Mandos, appeared right out of Aragorn's dreams!
She stepped into his view, out from behind a cluster of branches, though she did not yet see him. She moved with all the grace of an angel, her arms raised slightly and outwards, in recognition of the beautiful woods that surrounded her, and the glory of the evening. She stopped for a moment, in one spot, eclipsing the Sun, silhouetted against the dreamy orange and pink sky, amongst the dark shapes of trees and plant-life, and high above them, a few stars were just beginning to wake. Estel gazed in amazement, his mouth opened slightly, his bangs falling gently across his forehead as he blinked slowly against the light and magnificence.
Time seemed to stop as this moment stretched on, the maiden rejoicing in the quiet and peace of the twilight in Rivindell, home again, Estel forgetting himself and everything he had ever known for a moment. Then suddenly, the vision moved. She turned away from the sunset, and stepped out from the light. Estel was loathe to let himself be known or seen, for in his mind, his presence would spoil the beauty of the scene. But he could not bear to see her leave, and he feared if he did not stop her, he would never see her again.
"Tinuviel! Tinuviel!" he cried, stepping forward.
The maiden turned to face the voice, and smiled when her crystal eyes fell upon the boy. "Why do you call me that?"
"Because I thought you to be indeed, Luthien Tinuviel, of whom I was singing," he answered shyly. "But if you are not she, then you walk in her likeness!"
"So it has been said before," she said. Aragorn felt slightly relieved that this was not just some foolish idea of his own, and that others has thought the same. But quite quickly this feeling of relief changed to disappointment, for this was the greatest compliment he could give any maiden, yet if so many had told her the same, it meant nothing. "But her name is not mine. And what is your name?" she asked.
"Estel," he answered automatically. Then with a sudden thrill he remembered all that Elrond had revealed to him and he rejoiced for he had something to tell her now. "That is, I was called Estel. But my name is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Heir of Elendil." But just as soon as he had said the words, his joy and pride left him for he knew that whatever heritage he might have was nothing next to her, and was troubled for he felt that nothing he could say would impress her or equal her in the slightest.
But the fair maiden laughed and told him, "Then we are akin from afar! For I am Arwen, daughter of Elrond, and am also called Undomiel."
Elrond's daughter? Elrond had a daughter?? Why had he never seen her before… "Often it is seen that in dangerous days men hide their chief treasure. Yet I marvel at Elrond and your brothers; for though I have dwelt in this house from childhood, I have heard no word of you. How comes it that we have never met before? Surely your father has not kept you locked up in his hoard?" he asked, chuckling quietly.
"No," she replied with a small smile. "I have dwelt for a time in the land of my mother's kind, in far Lothlorien," she explained, turning towards the East, where rising mountains were just barely visible in the growing darkness. "I returned to my father's land only but a few days ago… It has been many years since I walked in Imladris." She looked around at the surrounding woods with a sad sort of smile, as one who is remembering times long passed, in that very spot. Aragorn wondered, confused, for if she had lived in Lothlorien all his life… How could that be? For she seemed to be hardly any older than he. Arwen's sharp eyes noted his confusion and she quickly reminded him that, "the children of Elrond have the life of the Eldar."
Aragorn immediately felt ridiculous for not realizing that. Of course, she was an elf, and the years passed her by unchanged and un-aged. Yet as he looked into her eyes, he saw the same light and wisdom he saw in her brothers' eyes, in her father's eyes. And his eyes fell to the ground in shame, for he knew that she had lived in Middle-Earth for thousands of years, and had saw and knew more than he could ever dream to see.
"Do you come here often," she asked after a moment. "Here, in these woods, I mean." Aragorn looked up at her and nodded. "I used to walk along these paths when I was small… Climb among the branches… My brothers and I used to play here," she said, smiling, though she seemed almost to be talking to herself rather than to Aragorn.
Aragorn's face was lit once more with a great smile, for these sentimental words and shared memories pleased him. "Really? I used to play here too. Also, with your brothers."
"They played still when you were young?" she asked, laughing. Then she sighed and shook her head, feigning disapproval. She reached out to grab a tree limb and pulled herself up into the low bows with Elvish grace and nimbleness. Aragorn followed her, joining her in the branches, then pulling ahead, reaching higher than she, matching any Elf's skills in climbing. He continued upwards for a moment before resting himself in a nook, with his back resting on a thick branch and his knees tucked inwards, his legs out in front of him, so that he was wedged comfortably in the tree crotch.
Arwen watched him with an odd smile as he brought himself to that position, and then, looking away, she turned her gaze upwards to the now dark and star-filled sky. The two of them sat for a few minutes, staring at the sky in peace, while Arwen sang quietly to Varda. Her voice was smooth and heavenly, and Aragorn felt himself lulled into a state of dreaminess. After a little while, Arwen turned once more to look at the young man, and saw that his eyes were closed.
"Estel," she said. "Are you awake?"
He opened his eyes. "Yes. I was just thinking." She accepted this answer and once again, they fell to a calm silence. A moment passed, and Aragorn started speaking. "I used to sit in this tree, in this very spot." Arwen listened, watching him as he spoke quietly, staring at the stars. "Whenever I wanted to be alone… I'd come and just be at peace, and take in all the beauty surrounding me. Or sit and dream about the old tales, ancient heroes, and all the stories… Or just… Watched the stars. There are so many of them up there. So far away. Aren't they just incredible?"
Arwen was amazed at these words, and looked away, out into the darkness of the forest. For, though she told him not, she was taken aback because his words brought back such a strong wave of memories. For many, many years ago, she too had sat and though long into the evening, in that very same nook, in the very same tree. It was a wide, old, strong tree, and it's great branches were open and welcoming, it was no wonder those seeking comfort and solitude were drawn to it.
"We'd better head back," she said at last.
"Yes, of course," he agreed. "May I, escort you back to the House of Elrond? Not that it's really necessary since I'm sure you know your way even better than I, and well, the thought of me helping you seems rather ridiculous but-"
"Of course," she said, taking his hand. And the two of them walked back to their home, hand in hand, said goodnight and parted.
Hey, by the way, whenever they're in Rivendell or speaking with Elves, it's safe to assume they're all speaking Elvish, ok? I've been writing everything in English because I really just don't know enough Elvish to do otherwise (which is a shame, it's such a pretty language).
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Aragorn walked happily through the old, lush forest, his hand idly brushing against every tree he passed. His heart was high within him and he felt more free and confidant than he had ever in his life. It was a calm, beautiful spring evening, and the sun was just beginning to set and the faint sound of rushing water could be heard beneath the young man's singing.
"The leaves were long, the grass was green,
The hemlock-umbels tall and fair,
And in the glade a light was seen
Of stars in shadow shimmering.
Tinúviel was dancing there
To music of a pipe unseen,
And light of stars was in her hair,
And in her raiment glimmering."
For some reason, he had always had a special fondness for this tale. He was intrigued by the strangeness of how Beren had been so blessed as to receive the love of such a fair, celestial creature. And he had also developed an odd infatuation Luthien, though he knew her not, and was to him like a character in a story that you somehow felt you knew.
"There Beren came from mountains cold,
And lost he wandered under leaves,
And where the Elven-river rolled
He walked alone and sorrowing.
He peered between the hemlock-leaves
And saw in wonder flowers of gold
Upon her mantle and her sleeves,
And her hair like shadow following."
He continued on through the story, for once not caring that his voice might not match the beauty of the song, or the wonderful voices of Elves he loved so well. The sun peaked out from the West, between leaves, nearing her destination for the night. And all of a sudden, she was there! Luthien Tinuviel, daughter of Thingol! She had returned from legend and song, journeyed from the Halls of Mandos, appeared right out of Aragorn's dreams!
She stepped into his view, out from behind a cluster of branches, though she did not yet see him. She moved with all the grace of an angel, her arms raised slightly and outwards, in recognition of the beautiful woods that surrounded her, and the glory of the evening. She stopped for a moment, in one spot, eclipsing the Sun, silhouetted against the dreamy orange and pink sky, amongst the dark shapes of trees and plant-life, and high above them, a few stars were just beginning to wake. Estel gazed in amazement, his mouth opened slightly, his bangs falling gently across his forehead as he blinked slowly against the light and magnificence.
Time seemed to stop as this moment stretched on, the maiden rejoicing in the quiet and peace of the twilight in Rivindell, home again, Estel forgetting himself and everything he had ever known for a moment. Then suddenly, the vision moved. She turned away from the sunset, and stepped out from the light. Estel was loathe to let himself be known or seen, for in his mind, his presence would spoil the beauty of the scene. But he could not bear to see her leave, and he feared if he did not stop her, he would never see her again.
"Tinuviel! Tinuviel!" he cried, stepping forward.
The maiden turned to face the voice, and smiled when her crystal eyes fell upon the boy. "Why do you call me that?"
"Because I thought you to be indeed, Luthien Tinuviel, of whom I was singing," he answered shyly. "But if you are not she, then you walk in her likeness!"
"So it has been said before," she said. Aragorn felt slightly relieved that this was not just some foolish idea of his own, and that others has thought the same. But quite quickly this feeling of relief changed to disappointment, for this was the greatest compliment he could give any maiden, yet if so many had told her the same, it meant nothing. "But her name is not mine. And what is your name?" she asked.
"Estel," he answered automatically. Then with a sudden thrill he remembered all that Elrond had revealed to him and he rejoiced for he had something to tell her now. "That is, I was called Estel. But my name is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Heir of Elendil." But just as soon as he had said the words, his joy and pride left him for he knew that whatever heritage he might have was nothing next to her, and was troubled for he felt that nothing he could say would impress her or equal her in the slightest.
But the fair maiden laughed and told him, "Then we are akin from afar! For I am Arwen, daughter of Elrond, and am also called Undomiel."
Elrond's daughter? Elrond had a daughter?? Why had he never seen her before… "Often it is seen that in dangerous days men hide their chief treasure. Yet I marvel at Elrond and your brothers; for though I have dwelt in this house from childhood, I have heard no word of you. How comes it that we have never met before? Surely your father has not kept you locked up in his hoard?" he asked, chuckling quietly.
"No," she replied with a small smile. "I have dwelt for a time in the land of my mother's kind, in far Lothlorien," she explained, turning towards the East, where rising mountains were just barely visible in the growing darkness. "I returned to my father's land only but a few days ago… It has been many years since I walked in Imladris." She looked around at the surrounding woods with a sad sort of smile, as one who is remembering times long passed, in that very spot. Aragorn wondered, confused, for if she had lived in Lothlorien all his life… How could that be? For she seemed to be hardly any older than he. Arwen's sharp eyes noted his confusion and she quickly reminded him that, "the children of Elrond have the life of the Eldar."
Aragorn immediately felt ridiculous for not realizing that. Of course, she was an elf, and the years passed her by unchanged and un-aged. Yet as he looked into her eyes, he saw the same light and wisdom he saw in her brothers' eyes, in her father's eyes. And his eyes fell to the ground in shame, for he knew that she had lived in Middle-Earth for thousands of years, and had saw and knew more than he could ever dream to see.
"Do you come here often," she asked after a moment. "Here, in these woods, I mean." Aragorn looked up at her and nodded. "I used to walk along these paths when I was small… Climb among the branches… My brothers and I used to play here," she said, smiling, though she seemed almost to be talking to herself rather than to Aragorn.
Aragorn's face was lit once more with a great smile, for these sentimental words and shared memories pleased him. "Really? I used to play here too. Also, with your brothers."
"They played still when you were young?" she asked, laughing. Then she sighed and shook her head, feigning disapproval. She reached out to grab a tree limb and pulled herself up into the low bows with Elvish grace and nimbleness. Aragorn followed her, joining her in the branches, then pulling ahead, reaching higher than she, matching any Elf's skills in climbing. He continued upwards for a moment before resting himself in a nook, with his back resting on a thick branch and his knees tucked inwards, his legs out in front of him, so that he was wedged comfortably in the tree crotch.
Arwen watched him with an odd smile as he brought himself to that position, and then, looking away, she turned her gaze upwards to the now dark and star-filled sky. The two of them sat for a few minutes, staring at the sky in peace, while Arwen sang quietly to Varda. Her voice was smooth and heavenly, and Aragorn felt himself lulled into a state of dreaminess. After a little while, Arwen turned once more to look at the young man, and saw that his eyes were closed.
"Estel," she said. "Are you awake?"
He opened his eyes. "Yes. I was just thinking." She accepted this answer and once again, they fell to a calm silence. A moment passed, and Aragorn started speaking. "I used to sit in this tree, in this very spot." Arwen listened, watching him as he spoke quietly, staring at the stars. "Whenever I wanted to be alone… I'd come and just be at peace, and take in all the beauty surrounding me. Or sit and dream about the old tales, ancient heroes, and all the stories… Or just… Watched the stars. There are so many of them up there. So far away. Aren't they just incredible?"
Arwen was amazed at these words, and looked away, out into the darkness of the forest. For, though she told him not, she was taken aback because his words brought back such a strong wave of memories. For many, many years ago, she too had sat and though long into the evening, in that very same nook, in the very same tree. It was a wide, old, strong tree, and it's great branches were open and welcoming, it was no wonder those seeking comfort and solitude were drawn to it.
"We'd better head back," she said at last.
"Yes, of course," he agreed. "May I, escort you back to the House of Elrond? Not that it's really necessary since I'm sure you know your way even better than I, and well, the thought of me helping you seems rather ridiculous but-"
"Of course," she said, taking his hand. And the two of them walked back to their home, hand in hand, said goodnight and parted.