A/N---I have absolutely no clue if elves can speak to each other in dreams
at all, let alone all the way from the Uttermost West. Honestly, I don't
care. If you believe they can, then it's a real communication. If you
believe they cannot, then it's a vivid dream. The story works either way.
Bitter Parting
Years pass, but a few, though they seem more. I settle easily into my new life, until it feels as though I have never lived another. The people of Gondor accept me as their Queen without reservation, so I do my best to be worthy of their devotion. I must also work hard to be a fit companion to Aragorn. He is a spectacular ruler. It takes all my training to match his innate skill. I do well enough, I think. I hope.
Life is happy. That is, until I receive the letter. Then, all the melancholy I have worked so hard to put behind me comes flooding back. I rarely take advantage of my position as Queen, but this day I do. I excuse myself from my duties and retire to the chambers I share with Estel. There I sit before the fire and brood.
I have not had much time to indulge my low spirits when my King comes in. I should have known he would notice my absence and look for me. Concern is plainly written on his face as he enters. He kneels before me and asks, "Are you well, my wife?"
"As well as can be expected," I reply, trying to smile. I can see in his eyes that I fail.
"What has happened?" he asks gently. My love is so in tune with my moods, there is no hiding from him. I do not even try.
"I received a letter from young Samwise. The Ringbearers have sailed West. They will have reached Tol Eressea by now," I tell him. I cannot prevent tears from filling my eyes, though I do manage to keep them from falling.
He takes my hand and strokes it, to comfort me. "Did all of them leave?" he asks.
"All but Sam," I reply. I am not certain what else he would expect. I have long known both my father and my grandmother grow weary. The loss of the One Ring took much from their own rings, which in turn took much from their spirit. I knew they would soon leave, as would Mithrandir, who's task is finished, and Frodo, who's hurts I did not truly think would heal. I would not have given him my grace had I believed otherwise.
"Did the twins go as well?" Estel inquires. I know he does not mean to hurt me, but he has. Still, I cannot refuse to answer his question. I can refuse my love nothing.
"I do not know," I answer curtly.
"Hmm," he mumbles. "I cannot picture Elladan and Elrohir as weary of Middle Earth already. They are very full of life."
"Estel, I do not know!" I snap. I have not seen my brothers since I bade them farewell that day in Edoras. I know not if they avoid me, if they have sailed West, or if they are simply unaware of the passage of time, being busy mopping up orcs and other leftover evils in the world. I suspect the latter, but it does not really matter. We said our goodbyes already. More is not needed. More would merely hurt. Or so I insist to myself.
My husband recoils from my sharp tone. He drops my hand and stands, hiding his hurt. "Shall I leave you alone, Arwen?" he asks softly.
Instantly, I regret taking out my temper on my love. I stand, walk to him, take him in my arms and smile up at him. The smile is forced, but genuine. I am struck again by how good he feels in my arms. "Actually, if you can be spared from your duties, I would have your company today."
"Then you shall have it, my Queen," he replies. He disentangles himself from my arms briefly, to give the message of his absence to a servant, then he returns to me. "What would you have us do, dear heart?"
"Just keep me company, please. I feel very much alone right now," I say. He nods, and leads me to the small couch I had just vacated. We curl up together, and trade stories of the Ringbearers. He knows more of Frodo and Mithrandir than I, but I have more memories of Elrond and Galadriel than he has years, so we are even. We recall only good things, never the dark times. Soon, we are laughing.
My heart is much lightened, but still I feel a vague emptiness. Estel notices the sorrow under my mirth. "Do you regret your choice, my love?" he asks, his voice tight with worry.
"Regret? No, I do not regret for a second. I do miss what I have lost, though, and always will," I reply.
He sighs. "I wish I could help you."
A thought occurs to me. I grin mischievously up my beloved. "You can. You can remind me of what I have gained in return for what I have given up," I say, playfully running my fingers through his hair.
His smile lights up his face. He whispers, "That I can do."
I want badly to feel his kisses, to drink deeply of his life, and remember the love we share, rather than the family I have lost. I pull him towards me and kiss him deeply, feeling his soul merge with mine. He scoops me up, carries me into our bedchamber, and proceeds to thoroughly and passionately remind me of how much I now have.
Much later, I lie cuddled up around him, sated. Aragorn sleeps deeply, for I have worn him out. I, however, find it hard to slow my thoughts enough for slumber. I close my eyes and try to relax, to rest my body if not my mind. I lay there for I do not know how long. Suddenly, I hear a soft voice, calling my name.
"Arwen?"
I glance over at my husband, but he sleeps the sleep of the well-loved. Even if he were awake, the voice could not be his. It is female.
I look around, to see who would be so bold as to invade the sanctity of my bedchamber. To my everlasting surprise, standing at the foot of my bed, aglow in silver and white, is Celebrian.
"Mother?" I ask, not believing what I see.
"Yes, child. Your father told me of your choice, and gave me your message. I have come to see for myself that you are happy, and determine what sort of man has won your heart," she tells me.
I am nothing short of astonished. To see my mother again, after all these years, after I had given up all hope of it! I move to go to her and embrace her, but she stops me with a gesture.
"Do not move, Little One. This cannot last long, and will shatter if we touch," she says, stern and sad, just as I remember her.
"But Mother..." I plead.
"But nothing, child," she interrupts. "Time is short, and you have much to tell me. Is that your Man?" she asks, nodding towards Estel, who snores at my side.
I smile down at him, proud and joyful. "Yes. Is he not beautiful?"
Mother does not answer me right away. Instead, she stares at my husband, taking his measure even as he sleeps. At last she says, "Indeed, he is at that. His kindness and nobility shine through even in sleep. I think I see why you chose him. Still, I would have liked to see you again, my daughter."
"Mother, I..." I begin to defend my decision, to tell her that my devotion to Estel left no other choice. Again, she interrupts.
"There is no need to explain, Arwen. The message you sent with your father was explanation enough." She sighs, and smiles. "And if it was not, to see how you glow with love for him now is all the confirmation I would ever need. Be happy, daughter. That is all I ever wanted for you, to be happy. If this man makes you so, then with him is where you should be. Take care of him, and the child you have created with him."
"Child?" I squeak, astonished beyond describing. I had no indication I am with child. Perhaps tonight? No, not possible. I am Eldar, I would know. Wouldn't I?
When I tell Mother this, she smiles knowingly at me, but says nothing. Silently, she glides up from the foot of the bed to stand beside me. She leans down and whispers to me. "It is good to see you again, my child, happy and well, but I must go now. Be content in your chosen path, my Arwen. And know that I love you."
"I love you too, Mama," I answer, using the endearment I have not needed for millennia. She smiles, brushes her lips against my forehead, and is gone.
The next morning, I am in high spirits, singing and smiling. Estel notices, and comments on it.
"Of course I am in a good mood, my love. I have cause to be. You, sir, are going to be a father," I inform him gaily.
I have the rare pleasure of striking Aragorn speechless. Oh, he has been know to be taciturn enough, but at a loss for words? Not my Estel. This morning, however, he can only stare dumbly at me.
"Close your mouth, dearest. You look like a deer caught in torchlight," I instruct him.
My husband's brain finally catches up to my announcement. A huge smile breaks across his face, and he sweeps me into his arms, spinning me around before setting me on my feet again. "I am to be a father!" he cries in joy. "When did this happen?"
"Last night. I had a vision, or perhaps a dream. Congratulations, my love," I laugh. He silences my laughter with a thorough kiss.
"I love you, Arwen Evenstar. You do know that, don't you?" he grins.
"Of course I do. And believe it or not, I love you too, Estel, Aragorn, Elessar Telcontar, once called Strider, who has far too many names for one man. And now you can add Father to your list," I tease.
"And you can add Mother, my lady. You, a mother. What is the world coming to?" he throws the teasing back at me.
I punch him playfully on the shoulder. He pretends to fall, staggering back onto the bed. "Enough of this foolishness. We were idle enough in melancholy yesterday. Today, we must work. The running of the kingdom will not wait forever," I scold.
"Yes, of course. And we have an announcement to make!" He is pure joy personified.
I should not dampen his enthusiasm, but I would hold this to ourselves a bit longer. "My love, let us wait on announcements until we are certain."
"I thought you were certain?" His disappointment is almost comical.
"I am, but your advisors will not believe it. They have little faith in the skills of the Eldar. So, we should wait awhile longer. Besides, I would cherish this between us for a bit. Please?" I bat my eyelashes outrageously at my love.
He signs, smiles, and lets me have my way, as I knew he would. He pulls me in his arms for another kiss. "What should we call the babe?"
"Aragorn! I am barely pregnant and already you wish to debate names? We do not even know what it will be!" I protest.
"It's just....I was thinking," he begins.
"That is dangerous, love," I interrupt.
"Hush, you. Let me finish. I was thinking, if the babe is a boy, we should name him after Elrond somehow. Not 'Elrond', exactly, but something that calls that to mind. What think you, dear heart?" he asks anxiously.
I take a deep breath. What better way to celebrate new life, and hold onto the love now lost to me? "I think that is altogether fitting. Suddenly I remember why I love you. Now, come. We must break our fast, and make our appearances in Court."
Aragorn's smile widens, a thing I did not think possible. He kisses me yet again. "I would rather stay here, Arwen, but you are correct as always. Tonight, though. Tonight, we celebrate, just you and I. And the baby," he says, his hand on my belly.
I nod in complete agreement. But we have procrastinated enough. It is time to begin our day. I follow my husband out of our chambers, and head back into my life. It is good.
A/N II---I couldn't find out when Eldarion was born. The only info I did find was that Arwen lived happily with Aragorn for sixty years, and that Eldarion was "a man full-ripe for kingship" when he died. Given the longevity of the Dunedain, I don't find it unbelievable that Eldarion would be in his late fifties and still considered to have years of kingcraft left in him.
I hope I pulled a fast one on you with this last chapter, and that you have enjoyed it. If I did and you did, click on the little button and feed my review monster. She's underfed in this story. Thanks.
Bitter Parting
Years pass, but a few, though they seem more. I settle easily into my new life, until it feels as though I have never lived another. The people of Gondor accept me as their Queen without reservation, so I do my best to be worthy of their devotion. I must also work hard to be a fit companion to Aragorn. He is a spectacular ruler. It takes all my training to match his innate skill. I do well enough, I think. I hope.
Life is happy. That is, until I receive the letter. Then, all the melancholy I have worked so hard to put behind me comes flooding back. I rarely take advantage of my position as Queen, but this day I do. I excuse myself from my duties and retire to the chambers I share with Estel. There I sit before the fire and brood.
I have not had much time to indulge my low spirits when my King comes in. I should have known he would notice my absence and look for me. Concern is plainly written on his face as he enters. He kneels before me and asks, "Are you well, my wife?"
"As well as can be expected," I reply, trying to smile. I can see in his eyes that I fail.
"What has happened?" he asks gently. My love is so in tune with my moods, there is no hiding from him. I do not even try.
"I received a letter from young Samwise. The Ringbearers have sailed West. They will have reached Tol Eressea by now," I tell him. I cannot prevent tears from filling my eyes, though I do manage to keep them from falling.
He takes my hand and strokes it, to comfort me. "Did all of them leave?" he asks.
"All but Sam," I reply. I am not certain what else he would expect. I have long known both my father and my grandmother grow weary. The loss of the One Ring took much from their own rings, which in turn took much from their spirit. I knew they would soon leave, as would Mithrandir, who's task is finished, and Frodo, who's hurts I did not truly think would heal. I would not have given him my grace had I believed otherwise.
"Did the twins go as well?" Estel inquires. I know he does not mean to hurt me, but he has. Still, I cannot refuse to answer his question. I can refuse my love nothing.
"I do not know," I answer curtly.
"Hmm," he mumbles. "I cannot picture Elladan and Elrohir as weary of Middle Earth already. They are very full of life."
"Estel, I do not know!" I snap. I have not seen my brothers since I bade them farewell that day in Edoras. I know not if they avoid me, if they have sailed West, or if they are simply unaware of the passage of time, being busy mopping up orcs and other leftover evils in the world. I suspect the latter, but it does not really matter. We said our goodbyes already. More is not needed. More would merely hurt. Or so I insist to myself.
My husband recoils from my sharp tone. He drops my hand and stands, hiding his hurt. "Shall I leave you alone, Arwen?" he asks softly.
Instantly, I regret taking out my temper on my love. I stand, walk to him, take him in my arms and smile up at him. The smile is forced, but genuine. I am struck again by how good he feels in my arms. "Actually, if you can be spared from your duties, I would have your company today."
"Then you shall have it, my Queen," he replies. He disentangles himself from my arms briefly, to give the message of his absence to a servant, then he returns to me. "What would you have us do, dear heart?"
"Just keep me company, please. I feel very much alone right now," I say. He nods, and leads me to the small couch I had just vacated. We curl up together, and trade stories of the Ringbearers. He knows more of Frodo and Mithrandir than I, but I have more memories of Elrond and Galadriel than he has years, so we are even. We recall only good things, never the dark times. Soon, we are laughing.
My heart is much lightened, but still I feel a vague emptiness. Estel notices the sorrow under my mirth. "Do you regret your choice, my love?" he asks, his voice tight with worry.
"Regret? No, I do not regret for a second. I do miss what I have lost, though, and always will," I reply.
He sighs. "I wish I could help you."
A thought occurs to me. I grin mischievously up my beloved. "You can. You can remind me of what I have gained in return for what I have given up," I say, playfully running my fingers through his hair.
His smile lights up his face. He whispers, "That I can do."
I want badly to feel his kisses, to drink deeply of his life, and remember the love we share, rather than the family I have lost. I pull him towards me and kiss him deeply, feeling his soul merge with mine. He scoops me up, carries me into our bedchamber, and proceeds to thoroughly and passionately remind me of how much I now have.
Much later, I lie cuddled up around him, sated. Aragorn sleeps deeply, for I have worn him out. I, however, find it hard to slow my thoughts enough for slumber. I close my eyes and try to relax, to rest my body if not my mind. I lay there for I do not know how long. Suddenly, I hear a soft voice, calling my name.
"Arwen?"
I glance over at my husband, but he sleeps the sleep of the well-loved. Even if he were awake, the voice could not be his. It is female.
I look around, to see who would be so bold as to invade the sanctity of my bedchamber. To my everlasting surprise, standing at the foot of my bed, aglow in silver and white, is Celebrian.
"Mother?" I ask, not believing what I see.
"Yes, child. Your father told me of your choice, and gave me your message. I have come to see for myself that you are happy, and determine what sort of man has won your heart," she tells me.
I am nothing short of astonished. To see my mother again, after all these years, after I had given up all hope of it! I move to go to her and embrace her, but she stops me with a gesture.
"Do not move, Little One. This cannot last long, and will shatter if we touch," she says, stern and sad, just as I remember her.
"But Mother..." I plead.
"But nothing, child," she interrupts. "Time is short, and you have much to tell me. Is that your Man?" she asks, nodding towards Estel, who snores at my side.
I smile down at him, proud and joyful. "Yes. Is he not beautiful?"
Mother does not answer me right away. Instead, she stares at my husband, taking his measure even as he sleeps. At last she says, "Indeed, he is at that. His kindness and nobility shine through even in sleep. I think I see why you chose him. Still, I would have liked to see you again, my daughter."
"Mother, I..." I begin to defend my decision, to tell her that my devotion to Estel left no other choice. Again, she interrupts.
"There is no need to explain, Arwen. The message you sent with your father was explanation enough." She sighs, and smiles. "And if it was not, to see how you glow with love for him now is all the confirmation I would ever need. Be happy, daughter. That is all I ever wanted for you, to be happy. If this man makes you so, then with him is where you should be. Take care of him, and the child you have created with him."
"Child?" I squeak, astonished beyond describing. I had no indication I am with child. Perhaps tonight? No, not possible. I am Eldar, I would know. Wouldn't I?
When I tell Mother this, she smiles knowingly at me, but says nothing. Silently, she glides up from the foot of the bed to stand beside me. She leans down and whispers to me. "It is good to see you again, my child, happy and well, but I must go now. Be content in your chosen path, my Arwen. And know that I love you."
"I love you too, Mama," I answer, using the endearment I have not needed for millennia. She smiles, brushes her lips against my forehead, and is gone.
The next morning, I am in high spirits, singing and smiling. Estel notices, and comments on it.
"Of course I am in a good mood, my love. I have cause to be. You, sir, are going to be a father," I inform him gaily.
I have the rare pleasure of striking Aragorn speechless. Oh, he has been know to be taciturn enough, but at a loss for words? Not my Estel. This morning, however, he can only stare dumbly at me.
"Close your mouth, dearest. You look like a deer caught in torchlight," I instruct him.
My husband's brain finally catches up to my announcement. A huge smile breaks across his face, and he sweeps me into his arms, spinning me around before setting me on my feet again. "I am to be a father!" he cries in joy. "When did this happen?"
"Last night. I had a vision, or perhaps a dream. Congratulations, my love," I laugh. He silences my laughter with a thorough kiss.
"I love you, Arwen Evenstar. You do know that, don't you?" he grins.
"Of course I do. And believe it or not, I love you too, Estel, Aragorn, Elessar Telcontar, once called Strider, who has far too many names for one man. And now you can add Father to your list," I tease.
"And you can add Mother, my lady. You, a mother. What is the world coming to?" he throws the teasing back at me.
I punch him playfully on the shoulder. He pretends to fall, staggering back onto the bed. "Enough of this foolishness. We were idle enough in melancholy yesterday. Today, we must work. The running of the kingdom will not wait forever," I scold.
"Yes, of course. And we have an announcement to make!" He is pure joy personified.
I should not dampen his enthusiasm, but I would hold this to ourselves a bit longer. "My love, let us wait on announcements until we are certain."
"I thought you were certain?" His disappointment is almost comical.
"I am, but your advisors will not believe it. They have little faith in the skills of the Eldar. So, we should wait awhile longer. Besides, I would cherish this between us for a bit. Please?" I bat my eyelashes outrageously at my love.
He signs, smiles, and lets me have my way, as I knew he would. He pulls me in his arms for another kiss. "What should we call the babe?"
"Aragorn! I am barely pregnant and already you wish to debate names? We do not even know what it will be!" I protest.
"It's just....I was thinking," he begins.
"That is dangerous, love," I interrupt.
"Hush, you. Let me finish. I was thinking, if the babe is a boy, we should name him after Elrond somehow. Not 'Elrond', exactly, but something that calls that to mind. What think you, dear heart?" he asks anxiously.
I take a deep breath. What better way to celebrate new life, and hold onto the love now lost to me? "I think that is altogether fitting. Suddenly I remember why I love you. Now, come. We must break our fast, and make our appearances in Court."
Aragorn's smile widens, a thing I did not think possible. He kisses me yet again. "I would rather stay here, Arwen, but you are correct as always. Tonight, though. Tonight, we celebrate, just you and I. And the baby," he says, his hand on my belly.
I nod in complete agreement. But we have procrastinated enough. It is time to begin our day. I follow my husband out of our chambers, and head back into my life. It is good.
A/N II---I couldn't find out when Eldarion was born. The only info I did find was that Arwen lived happily with Aragorn for sixty years, and that Eldarion was "a man full-ripe for kingship" when he died. Given the longevity of the Dunedain, I don't find it unbelievable that Eldarion would be in his late fifties and still considered to have years of kingcraft left in him.
I hope I pulled a fast one on you with this last chapter, and that you have enjoyed it. If I did and you did, click on the little button and feed my review monster. She's underfed in this story. Thanks.