Well, I couldn't help it, this got serious.but I think, actually the scenes that follow aren't bad..and there will be more





The afternoon was deepening into evening.

Elrond sat up against the backboard of his bed, a few pillows behind him. Though he had promised to stay put, he hadn't promised to stop working, and his quilt was covered with pieces of parchment as he was going through a monthly tally of Household supplies.

But his eyes were not on the elegant columns and comments written in Erestor's hand. He dropped the parchment and pinched the bridge of his nose.

For the hundredth time this day, he thought: What was happening with his two children?

Were they in love.no wait. That was a foolish question: They were. And if he was any judge of the Elvish heart, Arwen was deeply in love with Aragorn. And it appeared he was as well. How could this have happened? How could either of them allowed their feelings to overcome them like this? Arwen's immortality and Aragorn's oh too brief life, how could such disparity allow them to pursue such a love?

His eyes stared sightless out into his room.

Unbidden and rarely seen, tears filled his eyes as the loves of his life paraded through his mind's eye: his beloved Elros, Gil-Galad.and by the Valar, oh the steady flame in his heart, that no wind of time could extinguish, his Celebrian gone these many, many years. His head drooped and more tears dropped onto the quilt, one splashed on the parchment held loosely in his hand, blurring the number of candles on hand. They had all left him. And now Arwen.and Aragorn?

Oh, he felt.old. He hadn't felt this old in a millennium. Though elves never got the aged grey and silver hairs of their human counterparts, Elrond felt if it were possible, his hair would be streaked with white like a badger's!

Taking a deep breath, he wiped the tears away and stared at the slightly ruined parchment. Erestor would be able to tell him quickly what had been blotted out.

He brought a hand up to his still swathed forehead. Perhaps, the head wound just made him uneasy and melancholy. He had so rarely been injured in his long life and the inactivity rankled.

But he knew he would have to talk to them, especially Arwen. Humans, by their very nature tended to be a bit more flighty in affairs of the heart. And Aragorn, even by human standards, was still young. And he had not seen that much of the world. Perhaps it would be a good thing for him to visit Minas Tirith for awhile and see and taste life in a bigger context.

Ah, but if Arwen's heart was committed.

Gathering up the leaves of parchment and the eagle quill laying on one of the account books, he put them aside on the bedside table. Picking up the goblet of medicine that Isingal had mixed for him in case any of his pains got worse, he downed it in one gulp, making a sour face at the end.

Then he smiled slightly as he put the goblet down and blew out the candles. Physician, heal thyself!

Adjusting the pillows, Elrond lay down and eventually fell asleep.

But his dreams were not restful.



Elrond awoke to candles burning on either side of his bed and the wonderful smell of food laid out on the small table beneath the northern window.

Bringing a hand to his head, he sat up slowly and assessed himself clinically. The bad bruise on his side was turning yellow on the edges, which was good. The gash on his forehead was already dry and tight. That was also good and the bandage itself could come off tomorrow. Swinging his legs out of bed, he stood slowly and carefully and was greeted only by a little vertigo.

Sighing, satisfied with his condition, he went and sat at the table and ate the thick soup, rolls and fruit with a good appetite, accompanied by two glasses of white wine.

Putting his napkin down, he went and freshened up, changing into a pale amber robe with small gold braid down the split in front. Finished putting on his trews and boots, he stretched and left his suite.

He needed to find the two lovers.

Aragorn lay with his head in Arwen's lap, as they sat on a bench, high up behind the House, overlooking a pond that was graced with a pair of mated white swans, trailed at the moment by four cygnets. The stars wavered their wake as the two relaxed, just enjoy each other's company.

Aragorn sneezed and brought out his handkerchief and wiped his nose. "I am sorry Arwen. Having a cold isn't very pleasant."

She ran her hands through his hair and smiled down at him, kissing him on his slightly red nose. "That's all right my love, you know elves don't get sick."

"I wish humans didn't!"

She rubbed his forehead softly, rhythmically which relaxed him. He sighed and closed his eyes. Arwen bent and kissed him again, and he raised his hand, holding her head to him.

So wrapped in their kiss, with Arwen's curtain of hair adding to their privacy, that neither of them noticed the approach of their father. He paused and watched them, his heart sinking. His inadvertent sigh was loud enough to startle the lovers and Aragorn instantly sat up and banged his nose into Arwen's chin.

The two sprang away embarrassed, both rubbing their offended faces, their eyes dropping to the ground.

Elrond stood before them, a slight mountain breeze waving tendrils of his hair across his face. At first frowning at their bowed heads, his natural compassion overrode his displeasure and he felt sorry for them, especially Arwen. This was going to be so hard!

"Good evening, my children."

They looked up, Arwen slightly mutinously. Aragorn said hastily, "Ada, how do you feel? How is your head?"

"I am mending fine, thank you Estel." He looked down into the anxious face of his son. "Glorfindel tells me I have you to thank for my rescue," He bent forward then and kissed a surprised Aragorn on the forehead, running a hand down his cheek. "Thank you my son for your quick action."

Inordinately pleased, Aragorn felt himself blush. "You are welcome Ada." He looked up, relieved to see his father's customary look of slight amusement. "What happened at the river?"

"Rhean was startled by a bolt of lightning hitting nearby just as I dismounted and he sprang sidewise, knocking me into the river. He was able to swim to the other side, and I, I got tangled in a branch rushing by, which slammed me into the weir, hitting me on the head as it went downstream. The next thing I knew, I awoke in my bed." He looked out at the still pond, the swans having swum out of sight. "It was an extraordinary experience, to be sure."

Silence fell between the three like a rock from a catapult. Before the silence got strained, Aragorn sneezed and was grateful for the handkerchief to hide his uneasiness. Ada was going to lecture them, he just knew it.

"Estel, I need to talk to Arwen, alone." Aragorn nodded and slowly got up and then feeling defiant, bent and kissed Arwen as she looked up at him. He whispered, "Courage!" and strode off. Elrond smiling said to his retreating back. "See me in an hour Estel, in my chambers."

"Yes Ada." Aragorn turned and nodded. He was soon lost to sight down the hill.

"I know what you are going to say father, and I just want---"

"You have no idea what I am going to say, my Undomiel."

Arwen fell quiet at that, looking up at her father and biting her lip. He let the silence drag out this time until she said, falteringly, "I-I am sorry, Ada."

"Arwen, come here." She stood and he swept her in an embrace and she returned it with strength. Pulling her away, he looked down into her eyes, his bright with starlight. "Never doubt I love you, princess. When I see you smile, I see your mother. I miss her so much." He turned to look out at the pond again. "I am selfish Arwen. I do not want you to be unhappy. As may well be the case with Estel."

He turned suddenly, his robe swirling about his boots. "He is mortal my daughter!! How can that not affect your thinking here?"

"It does affect my thinking Ada.but I love him nevertheless. I am sorry." Arwen's head drooped.

Elrond came up to her and tilting her back up with a finger, he looked into his daughter's eyes swimming with tears. "Oh my Undomiel, it has gone this far, has it?"

She nodded, looking for a spark of Ada's usual compassion, but all she found was sorrow.

Swallowing, she stepped away from him and looked out over the still water, clasping her hands.

"I remember one night, when I was very young and my mare Ballanaria died, you were trying to console me. And I remember you whispering in my hair, "I would do anything to spare you from the sufferings of the mortal world, but I cannot."

She turned and straightened with a sigh. "As you said father, you cannot save me from the pains and sorrows of the mortal world. And I would not have it so. I love Aragorn."

Biting her lip, she swept past her father and went back down to the house, her legs trembling and her heart breaking.

Elrond, about to call her back, dropped his hand and bowed his head. The wind swept fallen flowers around his booted feet, as he slowly made his way back to the house, feeling the weight of his years.

Aragorn paced his father's study, occasionally wiping his nose. What would Ada do? Would he banish him from Rivendell forever? Never to see Arwen again? With that horrible thought, Aragorn sat down in the chair before his father's table and leaned his head in his hands. This was a nightmare! He looked up suddenly, wildy taking in the comforting décor of this oh so familiar room. That's it! He must still be sick and this was just a nasty hallucination.

But leaning back, he knew it was not. He was not sick enough to have hallucinations. He briefly considered going into Elrond's still room and concocting something..Shaking his head at his own foolishness, he stood and resumed pacing. He could not give up Arwen! He loved her!

Looking at his reflection in the northern window, Aragorn paused. Of course, Ada just did not think he was worthy of Arwen. No man measured up to a father's expectations---especially this father!

Sneezing, he wiped his nose again and ran a hand across his forehead. What a mess. He briefly wondered what Arwen's mother would think of this situation. With a sigh he sat down again, suddenly tired. Well, he would never know, as humankind did not go over the Western Sea. And that thought brought tears to his eyes: one day, his beloved would go and leave him for the West.

Elrond had stood in the partial opened doorway, watching his son's face for several minutes, steeling himself against wielding compassion and comfort.

"Estel."

Aragorn jumped up, almost knocking the chair behind him over on the carpet. "Father. I-I am sorry! But we love each other and---"

"I am aware of your feelings...now." Elrond, needing distance, slipped behind his table and sat back, his face unreadable and still.

"Father, we did not plan this. It just happened." Aragorn, desperate, leaned his hands on the table in front of Elrond. "We both love each other, come what may. It, it is not just some perverse whim." He turned and strode across the room needing to step away from the potent aura of his father. Staring at his harried reflection once more, he said quietly, "She is everything to me."

"And what then, is she to me, Estel? I have lost my brother, my king and my beloved wife.and now you ask me to let you and Arwen go as well! Son, she is immortal and your years are numbered! There is no way to change that. You will only have a few years together, as time is reckoned among the Eldar. Can you not set her free from this painful doom?"

Aragorn whirled around, shocked to his soul to hear the desperation and pleading in his father's voice, and he almost capitulated.

"If I cannot set myself, my heart free from this doom, how can she, if she truly loves me. If this was Celebrian, father, what then? Would you have given her up if Celeborn had demanded it? All sorrows, and all joys pass eventually, even for the Eldar. We just want our chance at the happiness we know we can share and make grow. For however short a time." He turned to face the window again.

Elrond had said nothing. His soul felt as if it was within the grasp of an ice giant, and slowly being squeezed into painful immobility. Oh my children, you know not what you do!! How will this end?

And then, Aragorn sneezed several times.

Elrond rose from his chair, his heart breaking inside, but outwardly calm, now. It was easier to be a healer than a father right now. Stepping behind his son, he put a hand on his shoulder and said quietly, "Come, sit and I will make you a tisane so you can breath easier and sleep."

Aragorn, nose and eyes red, turned with a sharp intake of breath and stopped, reading his father's soul, writ large in his eyes. His Ada was there, warm and compassionate. But, but there was also a sliver of sharpness, of pain glimmering there from the long-lived Lord of Imladris. And Aragorn realized then, it would never go away.

And that he and Arwen had put it there.

Uncertain, he wanted to step around Elrond and leave him. But the hand on his shoulder squeezed ever so slightly, telling him to stay. Nodding in answer to the unspoken request, he went and sat in the chair before his father's table.

"Thank you Ada. A tisane is just what I need."