Disclaimer: Still not mine. Only a few characters are, and they're not
the really famous ones.
Our time in the Shire had been pleasant, and it warmed my heart to mingle with the people who had remained safely anonymous for so many years, much like my own people. We spent nearly a month among them, learning of their lifestyle and creating new friendships. Eventually they adjusted to us, especially since Sam was mayor. Merry and Pippin had been most pleased to introduce us to the Green Dragon, which had been newly restored as I had been told, and to the finest ale in all the Shire. Like many things in my life, it passed all too quickly.
The years passed. Eventually, I had come to terms with the grief and the loss of my dear friends, the High Elves of Middle Earth. The earth itself seemed to mourn their passing, for winter approached quickly and was harsh and long. Still, there was an impression of them left in all the earth, something that would not fade away but remain as a shadow of what once was. Legolas and I continued our life together, watching Gisele grow. She was a tender child, soft and easy. When her first words came, they were to me, for my ears alone: "amil"-- mother. I would never forget the way her wide blue eyes focused upon my face as her small lips formed that single word. Nothing in my life had ever made my heart burst and break with joy simultaneously.
It was when Gisele was learning to walk that I was blessed with the knowledge of another child that was to be. Legolas had never looked more proud. He walked with an ease I had never before seen, his role as a father taking precedence in his life. And so, in the fall, we were given another girl, one with hair dark as night and wavy as the sea, with matching eyes that betrayed the porcelain blush in her cheeks. She was called Írissë. She too had her father's ears, but everything else about her came from me. It pleased me to see myself in my daughter, and Legolas in our firstborn.
We traveled often to Minas Tirith, and were well met by Aragorn and Arwen, who were overwhelmed with joy at our growing family. Ithiel found comfort in Arwen, seeing as she had chosen to remain in Middle Earth and could no longer retain her immortality. Confiding in the Queen of Gondor was a joy for her, as it was for me. We indeed had become like sisters, and our shared father was Elisen. He embraced Legolas as his son, our children as his grandchildren, and Arwen as a second daughter. My family had grown, continued to grow, and nothing could make me regret the choices of my life.
Aragorn and Arwen would often come visit us in our home, at least when permitted by the council in Minas Tirith, for there was much to be done. It was wonderful news to learn that, after several years, Arwen was with child as well. She birthed a strong son, called Eldarion, who had his father's strong features and would doubtless have his mother's grace. Oftentimes the hobbits would come as well, coinciding with visits from Gimli. The dwarf seemed perplexed that Legolas had settled down to be a husband and father, and he seemed uncomfortable around our children, though it did not offend me. I knew Gimli would forever be a warrior searching for battles, although for a short time he did not need seek it. There was a rise in goblins to the south, and many went to slay them, including Legolas and Gimli. The goblins threatened much of the peaceful landscapes and townspeople scattered throughout. Fortunately, the battles took no more than six months, and then the remaining creatures disappeared.
After Gisele and Írissë had grown a little, and were both walking and speaking, Legolas made a journey with Gimli to the Glittering Caves in Gondor, as well as Fangorn Forest. Gimli had been patient long enough, as had Legolas, and I understood the importance that the two made this journey together. After several months, the pair returned. They each had a glow in their eyes that was unlike anything I had remembered seeing in them before. We heard much of the things they saw and experienced, and it warmed my heart to know that the pair had become such close friends. Gimli marveled at our children suddenly, his rough exterior somehow softened a bit as he looked upon us, and he spoke of finding a wife of his own, though it may have been the great amounts of wine he consumed.
Occasionally we would travel to Rivendell, only to see that it had become hollow, a shadow of its former self. Still beautiful, yet there was no longer a spirit lingering in all things that it touched. Lord Elrond had long since traveled the sea, and all the earth felt his loss. There were quite a few Elves who remained in the city, though they too mourned their Lord's departure, and also mourned the loss of their immortality. The Elves of Lothlorien were no different. Without the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood, all within their realm had begun to fade slowly, and in time it would cease to be. When we took the children there, we marveled at how it still remained, unthinking that it would disappear someday. The mallorn trees were still as tall and grand, but over the years they began to lose their shine. The healing pools that had aided me before were clear and bright, though moss was slowly creeping in. Without the Elves of Old, all the beauty in their realms was doomed to fade away. Legolas mourned this as much as I, wanting so desperately for our children to see and remember the ways of Galadriel, Celeborn, and Elrond.
Even as the years ticked away, I was surprised to see how little I aged. Even as our family increased, age seemed to delay itself with me. Legolas, of course, did not seem to age a day. I assumed he still retained his appearance from a thousand years beforehand. In total, our family increased to eight children, five girls and three boys, all of them half- elven, all of them beautiful and breathtaking. Two of the boys, Nárello and Mirimon, had hair the color of fire as well as dark gray eyes; they resembled my father so much it was startling. The other boy, Atanion, was the image of his father, Legolas. The girls Tindómerel and Iris had light brown hair the color of tree bark in the spring, with bright grey eyes that echoed the sea. As for the other girl, Altáriel, she was the image of the Lady herself, from where the name came from. Her hair was as soft and bright as pure gold, with deep fathomless eyes the color of the winter sky. It hardly seemed an accident that she was a child image of Lady Galadriel.
All our children grew strong and wise, never sick, hardly troublesome. Already in their early years there seemed a dormant intelligence that each grew into. It was clear from the time they were all born that each one had their individual talents. For example, Írissë began crafting weapons when she was the age of 12, and wielding them strongly by age 13. Atanion had a love of horses, while Nárello preferred working with stone and metal, making statues and other works of art. Iris cared for the house beside Ithiel, learning all she could of how to tend to people's needs while at the same time becoming learned in Sindarin and poetry of old. Gisele amazed me by taking her father's weapons and learning them perfectly, then proceeding to tend the gardens with such skill as I had never seen in such a young child. Mirimon was quiet and kept to himself quite a bit, until the others began teasing him, in which case he became a master of pranks, and enjoyed tormenting the others in return. He was fascinated by the trees as much as his father, and often begged to be taken to Fangorn Forest. He was a healer by nature, and his talents increased as he grew older. Tindómerel kept to her namesake, one of the twilight, and was often out studying the stars. She was a painter and a warrior, too bold to be kept behind and too stubborn to listen to reason. She reminded me much of myself at times. As for Altáriel, she read more books than any other person I could remember. She was gifted with foresight, so nothing ever caught her off guard. By the time she was 15, she was able to summon the elements to her, perform bits of magic that amazed the rest of us. No one was quite sure where this came from, but she was remarkable. Some of the Elves believed it was the Lady herself reborn. After all, it was not unheard of in Elvish culture.
Our family was large and of a variety unlike any other I had ever known. Elisen, when he visited, was so pleased by his grandchildren. It broke my heart when he passed on, just after Altáriel had turned six years old; she had seen it coming in her dreams, though we hardly believed it. We buried him in Minas Tirith at the favor of Aragorn. He was nearly eighty years old at the time of his death, well past his prime, and a miracle he lasted as long. I was already nearing my sixty-third year when he died, and yet I showed my age little. Elisen had kept his fiery color, as faded as it was with white, even unto his death. My hair was slowly fading, but I had only one or two gray hairs to show. Írissë and Iris sang at the mourning, and at his burial.
The world lost none of its beauty in my eyes, even when we visited Lothlorien and the trees were fading. I was still amazed by the giant trees and the purity of the place, memories so vivid I could have touched them. There lay a quiet over the place unlike any other, and I realized that the place was waning, drawing back into itself. Still, I was content that the children were able to visit the forest that had been long held at bay from outsiders, to learn of history and knowledge that I could help pass on. Upon my last visit there, the healing pools had dried up to small, shallow holes in the ground, with only the overgrown bushes to show for what once was. The mallorn trees had faded to a pale shine, the flets among the branches still used yet in slight disrepair. Haldir was among those who remained; surprisingly, he chose not to leave Middle Earth. He was still as young and untouched as before, though his eyes carried a great tiredness to them. He welcomed us, spoke much with Legolas, told our children of all he had seen under the Lady's rule. The golden flowers were fading, nearly spent, and Gisele made a crown of flowers for me, making certain they would never wilt.
I had no desire to abandon Middle Earth as the Elves had. Legolas had made my life complete in a way I could never have foreseen. He and I remained side by side for so long, it seemed like forever for me, though to him it was merely a few moments in time. His eyes were still a pure grey that shone brightly, his hair as bright and soft as silk. He finally told me that he too would age, for he had bound himself to me alone, and nothing on Middle Earth would matter if I were to pass on. It seemed impossible that he would ever age, yet upon my eightieth year I saw the first dampening of the light in his eyes, a weariness in his face that had snuck upon him like an early winter. Ithiel had hardly aged as well, though I saw the surprise in her face when Legolas woke up one morning and his eyes had changed. Perhaps no one else knew what to look for, for it was little known among our household.
Thranduil had kept in contact frequently, and had asked the children visit him whenever possible. Only when they were aged twenty years respectively would I allow them to travel to Mirkwood unescorted. After all, they had nearly all become skilled in their weapons of choice, and I did not doubt their skill. Thranduil had not changed, except to warm to his grandchildren. I chose not to return to that accursed forest, and he respected my decision. Legolas returned on several occasions and was well met each time.
Atanion had chosen a bride early in his life, even though he was already fifty-two. He always had been interested in all the traditions of his father's people. Marille was a lovely young elf from Mirkwood, one of the finest refined in the land. She was quiet and proper, but she loved to laugh, and she was quite friendly. Legolas and I approved, and the two were married. Four years later they had a child, a girl, who was beautiful beyond compare with sharp green eyes and silver-blonde hair like her mother. Imagine my surprise to be a grandmother to a young thing called Sáre.
After many years, after seeing nearly one hundred and thirty years, an extraordinary life span for any mere mortal, I felt the chill of time creeping upon me. It frightened me, yet I had nothing else to fear. I had survived much worse in my lifetime, seen terrible things that I would not wish upon any one. Death was inevitable, a natural course to life.
I stared out over the gardens in the early bloom of spring, bright colors leaping from their heads and reflecting in the dying sunlight. The sky was painted red and gold in the approaching twilight, silhouettes of trees against the backdrop. I breathed in the scents of hyacinth and pine, crisp water bubbling from the stream several leagues away though ever present in the air. Faint pinpricks breached the cerulean sky of the east, marking the beginning of nightfall that would be slow and lingering.
Shuddering slightly in the barely perceptible breeze of April, I turned in the balcony to see Legolas approach, and a smile filled my face. He was still as handsome as the first day I laid eyes upon him, walking out of a dream. His shining hair still glowed, streaked a bit with silver, and his face was perhaps more smooth than ever, and his eyes were as feisty as ever, even as the light dimmed. His lithe body never lost its zeal and grace, though he had refrained from wandering on any great journeys for several years. Perhaps he merely knew that the past few years would be some of my last. He walked silently to me, and took my hands in his. I stared for a moment at the wrinkled hands that lay in his flawless grasp.
As he kissed my forehead, Legolas said, "What are your thoughts, a'maelamin? You have been standing here for an hour. Did you really believe the sun would not set again tonight?"
I offered him a smile, taking a deep breath that settled easily in my chest. Tossing my thinned hair over my shoulders, I answered, "I merely wished to see it one more time, dear one. Somehow the sun falls in such splendid colors it will be emblazoned upon my mind for all eternity. You seek to rival its splendor, my love." I sighed. "You always were able to steal any woman's gaze in whatever room you entered."
Sliding an arm around my waist, he guided me back indoors and into the silent hallway. "I never felt any other woman's will to draw me away from you, for you have always held my heart within you." Legolas let his gaze flicker over my face as he smiled, brushing my hair away from my face. "You are still so beautiful, Andariel."
Laughing slightly, I said, "If surviving so long is beautiful, then forgive me if I pale next to you." For a few moments, I remained silent, wondering how to ask my question that had been burning its way in my mind for many years. "How is it that I am still alive, Legolas? You have never told me why I have aged slowly and still live. You have kept that from me, though for whatever reason I do not know."
His face became taut, his eyes still fixed upon me but they were looking through me, studying my soul and my spirit. At last he replied, "We are bound, Andariel, as I told you when I asked you to be my wife. Nothing can tear us asunder, not even now. I have bound myself to your fate, and you are bound to mine. It is because of what I am that you have lived beyond your years, aged less quickly than those around you. Are you displeased with me for keeping this from you?"
Knowing that his pledge so long ago held firm even now warmed me intensely; I felt no ill will towards my husband. "No, Legolas, I am merely amused. Perhaps if I had interpreted Lady Galadriel's words more thoroughly when I had the opportunity I would have realized what you meant when you told me that you were mine."
"There are few of the race of Man whom I know who have seen more years than you, my wife. Even those of my line are still young yet older than you know." There was nothing hidden about the bitterness in his voice. "Even the hobbits who have long since passed on lived well beyond their years, though they have not matched yours. I believe Bilbo was the last to see such years. Elanor and Goldilocks have children of their own. Aragorn and Arwen are here, love, did I not tell you?"
I looked to him in surprise. "No. I am glad that I may see them again. Where are the children?"
"They are all waiting for you, pen-neth." His grey-blue eyes glowed at me, that ever-present smile gracing his beautiful lips. For a moment I could hardly see past their depths, but I also saw a spark of sorrow lying under the surface. Suddenly he pulled me very close to his body, wrapping me securely within his arms. I felt his heart beating too quickly against his chest, but I merely lay my head against it, closing my eyes to the warmth of his grasp. It seemed a thousand years ago since he had first held me like that, but I remembered clearly the moment I had fallen in love with him in the garden of Rivendell.
His voice was quiet but steady as he said silently, "I too remember the moment when you stole my heart, melamin. The very second that I laid eyes upon you in the woods was all I needed, but when you walked beside Galain and into the House of Elrond I knew that no other would make my life complete."
I smiled, raising my face to meet his gaze, allowing myself to drown in his eyes. "You knew my heart was yours the moment you captured my eyes. I am happy, Legolas. My life is nothing shameful or regretful to me. I have seen more than I ever imagined possible, and I even have a grandchild of my own. I had hoped to see the other children marry, but perhaps it is too soon for them. They are all young, and they have many years to decide. I thank Eru that you desired to marry me, heruamin."
"I would have it no other way, arwenamin."
He kissed me gently, the passion still emblazoned upon his lips. At last he led me down the hallway and to the bedroom. I felt the ache in my muscles that had not been there before, and the weight upon my chest grew heavy. For the past several days I believed the light was fading from my life, and now it was destined to come to pass. I greatly desired that none of our children were to know, but there was little to be kept secret once Altáriel had foreseen it, and I knew she had. Somehow there was a great peace in knowing that my life was complete, and all those whom I loved would be here. Clasping quietly to Legolas' arm, I smiled to myself, content with merely holding him as I had for so many years.
At last we entered the bedroom, the most comfortable room that had been perfected over time. I smiled as Legolas led me over to the large bed covered in rich blankets and guarded by the open arms of the Elven Lady from Rivendell. All the trinkets we had acquired throughout the years were spread out in their resting places on the walls, the dressers, and in the armoire. As I sat upon the feather-soft blanket, I sighed heavily, eyes drifting towards the painting of our family that had been done twenty years ago.
"Let them come, Legolas," I said, propped up against the headboard.
For a moment he remained motionless, eyes fixed upon me. There was a great sadness lingering just behind his eyes, growing stronger with each moment. I felt the same, knowing that I was about to lose the one who had held me safely for so many years. My only regret was leaving him behind, but I had known it was to be so ever since we met.
Pursing his lips, Legolas turned and quickly walked out the door. A few moments later, Aragorn and Arwen entered. Both had aged gracefully, if at all. There was a weariness to the king's eyes that had developed slowly over the years, and his hair was streaked with gray. Still he remained proud and noble, his smile warming as he entered the room. Arwen was as lovely as ever, and I doubted she had actually become mortal. Her eyes were clear and bright, her hair dark and pinned away from her face. Slight lines were at the edges of her eyes, but few could notice them. I wondered if when Elves became mortal they aged at all.
"Andariel." Aragorn moved to my side, his smile friendly and compassionate. He took my hand in his, studying my face. "How do you fare?"
"I am well. I feel no pain nor discomfort. And you? How do you fare, good King?"
He nodded. "I am well. Gondor is safely protected. I am deeply sorry the children could not come, but they had pressing matters in the state."
As I studied his face, I marveled at how long he himself had lived, for he had long been much older than myself. I remembered clearly how he had held me upon his knee when I was a child; as he held me close now, it would be him who would bid me farewell and not the other way around.
"You have been a dear friend, Aragorn," I said quietly. "It seems strange to depart now after so long. We have both lost many of those close to us over the years, and the cycle of life continues. Now it is merely my turn."
He gently ran a hand over my face, eyes meeting mine bravely, but there was a slight tremor in his voice. "You have lived well, Andariel. All the years I have known you it has been my privilege. You are family to me, little one, as you are to those who know you."
Watching him carefully, I smiled to see the same old face of him who had saved me from the orcs, boldly charging through the camp and appearing like a vision to take me away. I had once prayed for him to be the Death Lord; he was no such thing, only a herald of its approach, a friend to see me on my way.
"You have always been in my heart, Aragorn. I thank you for all the good you have done for me and my family."
Aragorn smiled, and kissed my forehead, allowing Arwen to sit beside me as well. She took my hand, pressing it between hers, and offered a gentle smile. I saw no regrets in her eyes, even though she was mortal, and I felt the same way.
"You see the same way I do, Andariel," she said softly. "We both chose our own fates, and to that we have held. I need not ask if there is anything you would have done differently, for I see the answer in your eyes. I am proud to have called you sister."
"Dear Arwen, you have been the sister I always desired." A sharp pain rose through my chest, and I winced. Dark memories began to surface through my mind, and I felt a sudden rush of panic. Black faces haunted my mind, terrible cries breaking the air as flames surrounded everything in my vision. The world around me faded suddenly, and I gasped for breath.
Arwen laid a hand upon my cheek, distilling the violent images that haunted me. "Be still, Andariel," she whispered. "They will no longer harm you."
Taking a deep breath, I sighed. "Where are my children? I need to see the children."
Arwen held my hand tightly as Aragorn stood to go find the rest of the family. Soon the children came walking through the door, and it made my heart leap. Ithiel followed behind them, her eyes dark with worry and despair. Gisele came immediately beside me, her bright eyes studying my face calmly.
"How do you fare, mother?" she asked quietly.
"Ah, my firstborn," I smiled, reaching for her hand. I studied her pale hair wrapped tightly behind her head, displaying the high cheekbones and full lips that made her so beautiful. "It is so wonderful to see you. I desired to tell you that my heart has lived so much since you were born. It is because of you that I regained hope in life, and now at the end I may face it with peace. It was you who gave me hope, Gisele. I never told you about--"
The elf girl smiled slightly, her blue eyes glistening with tears she would not permit herself to shed and she bowed her head. "I know, mother. I know all about the child you had when you first met father."
I stared at her in great surprise. "How--how did you know?" I asked. "So very few people knew of it."
She smiled comfortingly. "Grandfather told me, long ago. He was heartbroken by it and made me swear not to tell you that I knew. It is all right, mother. It was not your fault. And you have eight children now who carry your blood, and will live on. No one can blame you for what happened."
Tears filled my eyes, and I quickly looked away towards the evening drawing quickly outside the window. The balcony was empty and vacant, leaves blowing softly on the trees outside. For a moment, I thought I saw the air shimmer as the breeze blew swiftly, and I caught my breath as I saw a pale figure emerge from the shadows. He was small, only a few years old, with shining hair the color of the sun and gleaming green eyes accentuating his pointed ears. He smiled at me, and tilted his head. Suddenly I knew, I knew that I was looking upon my first child, the one I had lost. He merely waited calmly, standing patiently on the balcony, and he did not speak.
"Mother?"
Hardly able to tear my eyes away from the doorframe, I whispered, "I am sorry. I should have told you."
Tindómerel and Mirimon approached, both glancing at one another in concern. Tindómerel knelt at the foot of the bed, her eyes filling with tears. "Mother," she said quietly. "There is nothing you need feel shame for. If there is one thing you have taught, it is that life is unpredictable and we must make do with what we are given."
Mirimon nodded, motioning to the others to gather around. "None of us can despise you for keeping it from us. There is nothing you could have done. The important thing is that you raised us well, you and father."
Even their kind words could not make the image of the young child disappear. I stared openly at him, and yet there was no panic left in me. My heart beat steadily within my chest, though I felt it slowing.
"I love you all so very much," I said firmly. "There is nothing else in my life that I am more proud of than each and every one of you, including Sáre. I desire only that each of you make your own life, and do what it is that will bring you happiness." Breath came short, and I shut my eyes for a moment, trying to hold on to the life that was still within me. "Where is Ithiel?"
The she-elf slowly walked through the gathering, her dark hair held back from her face only to illuminate the tears running down her face. She smiled awkwardly, her gray eyes dark and sorrowful as she approached, and sat beside me. I took her hand and squeezed tightly, staring up into her immortal face, even though she too would age someday. I felt deep comfort in holding her hand, knowing how devoted and loving she had been all these years.
"I could never have asked for a truer friend, Ithiel," I told her quietly. "The moment you aided me in Lothlorien, I was so pleased to have known you. You kept me alive and aided my recovery so well that I have lived to see such wondrous times. Thank you."
Bowing her head, Ithiel whispered, "It has been my pleasure, my Lady. You have been a friend to me as well. I was happy to remain in Middle Earth to stay by your side. Not once have I ever regretted my decision. Perhaps I will still live to aid your great grandchildren, and then I may tell them of you."
Swallowing hard, I smiled. The light around me was becoming fuzzy, blurring together, and I felt a numbness creeping into my limbs. Still the child waited for me at the balcony, and I shook my head. I was not ready to leave. I did not want to leave my family behind.
"Legolas." I reached out to him, nearly frantic until he lay beside me, holding me in his arms. The safety of his embrace soothed me, and I breathed heavily, calmly aware now of the encroaching numbness that was spreading up along my body. I could no longer walk, but it did not matter; there was no where I needed to go. I breathed in his scent, of vanilla and honey, of crisp sunshine over clear waters on the outskirts of the forest. His touch still lit a fire within me.
"I love you, Legolas," I whispered.
He smiled, eyes betraying the pain that was growing inside of him. "I love you, Andariel."
That was all either of us needed to know. Our lips met, and I felt the strength draining out of me. I pressed against him, hoping somehow to steal a few more moments to be in his arms. Even the past century was not enough time to be with him.
"You are all that I ever desired," I told him silently. "Thank you for saving me more often than I can remember."
His lips started to tremble as our eyes met, even though his eyes were steady, as if he were willing me his strength. His arms held me tighter. "Nay, a'maelamin. It was you who saved me from an eternity without the love we have shared."
I smiled, suddenly unable to move. There was a light growing around his face, slowly drowning out everything around me, except for him. "I see our child," I whispered. "The firstborn, he is waiting for me."
Legolas stared at me in shock, and for a moment he looked as if he wanted to scream. Instead, he smiled gently, allowing the tears to fill his eyes, and he kissed my forehead. Running a hand through my hair, he whispered, "Please do not leave, my wife. Please."
I struggled to raise a hand to his face, hardly able to feel the soft skin of his cheek. He clasped my hand to his face, staring into my eyes. For a moment all of our life blended together. There was our first meeting, our first shared kiss, our first night together, the dance, the death of our child, the orcs, the rescue, my rebirth, our reunion, the wedding, the births of our children, the secluded nights where it was only the two of us dancing beneath the trees, and all the joy and sadness we had shared together. It filled me with a warmth unlike any I had ever known, even as the chill crept over my body. My eyes drifted over to the child waiting for me, and suddenly I heard a small voice on the air: "Mother, tell father he will see me someday."
My own tears drifted down my face as I said, "He asked me to tell you that you will meet him someday. He needs me now."
Legolas shook his head a little, and I saw grief falling over him in such waves it was oppressive. The world was falling out from under him, as it was falling away from me. My heart was barely beating and my breath came only in wheezes as I offered him another smile.
"Mela en'coiamin," I whispered.
Leaning his head against mine, he whispered, "Lemeluvan unearalye lumessen tenna nurveilie."
The soft sounds of voices singing rose around me, and I recognized the voices of Írissë and Iris as they slowly sang an old Elvish song. One by one the others joined in, and soon the song was all that filled my hearing, slowly fading away. I stared up into Legolas' gray eyes, allowing the song to consume me and myself to drown in his eyes. I smiled, even as the light grew stronger around me and the chill numbed every part of me. I felt Legolas' lips press against my forehead, and I glanced over to see the child smiling broadly, standing straight and extending a hand towards me.
A strange peace flowed over me, and the music disappeared. I shuddered, and exhaled deeply as the light enveloped me.
"Namarie," I whispered, and the light washed over me. And then there was nothing.
*A/N: "Lemeluvan unearalye lumessen tenna nurveilie" is "I love you for better or worse till death do us part." "Arwenamin" is "my lady,"--intimate.
I have one more chapter to post. I really hope that this is worthy to the story.
Our time in the Shire had been pleasant, and it warmed my heart to mingle with the people who had remained safely anonymous for so many years, much like my own people. We spent nearly a month among them, learning of their lifestyle and creating new friendships. Eventually they adjusted to us, especially since Sam was mayor. Merry and Pippin had been most pleased to introduce us to the Green Dragon, which had been newly restored as I had been told, and to the finest ale in all the Shire. Like many things in my life, it passed all too quickly.
The years passed. Eventually, I had come to terms with the grief and the loss of my dear friends, the High Elves of Middle Earth. The earth itself seemed to mourn their passing, for winter approached quickly and was harsh and long. Still, there was an impression of them left in all the earth, something that would not fade away but remain as a shadow of what once was. Legolas and I continued our life together, watching Gisele grow. She was a tender child, soft and easy. When her first words came, they were to me, for my ears alone: "amil"-- mother. I would never forget the way her wide blue eyes focused upon my face as her small lips formed that single word. Nothing in my life had ever made my heart burst and break with joy simultaneously.
It was when Gisele was learning to walk that I was blessed with the knowledge of another child that was to be. Legolas had never looked more proud. He walked with an ease I had never before seen, his role as a father taking precedence in his life. And so, in the fall, we were given another girl, one with hair dark as night and wavy as the sea, with matching eyes that betrayed the porcelain blush in her cheeks. She was called Írissë. She too had her father's ears, but everything else about her came from me. It pleased me to see myself in my daughter, and Legolas in our firstborn.
We traveled often to Minas Tirith, and were well met by Aragorn and Arwen, who were overwhelmed with joy at our growing family. Ithiel found comfort in Arwen, seeing as she had chosen to remain in Middle Earth and could no longer retain her immortality. Confiding in the Queen of Gondor was a joy for her, as it was for me. We indeed had become like sisters, and our shared father was Elisen. He embraced Legolas as his son, our children as his grandchildren, and Arwen as a second daughter. My family had grown, continued to grow, and nothing could make me regret the choices of my life.
Aragorn and Arwen would often come visit us in our home, at least when permitted by the council in Minas Tirith, for there was much to be done. It was wonderful news to learn that, after several years, Arwen was with child as well. She birthed a strong son, called Eldarion, who had his father's strong features and would doubtless have his mother's grace. Oftentimes the hobbits would come as well, coinciding with visits from Gimli. The dwarf seemed perplexed that Legolas had settled down to be a husband and father, and he seemed uncomfortable around our children, though it did not offend me. I knew Gimli would forever be a warrior searching for battles, although for a short time he did not need seek it. There was a rise in goblins to the south, and many went to slay them, including Legolas and Gimli. The goblins threatened much of the peaceful landscapes and townspeople scattered throughout. Fortunately, the battles took no more than six months, and then the remaining creatures disappeared.
After Gisele and Írissë had grown a little, and were both walking and speaking, Legolas made a journey with Gimli to the Glittering Caves in Gondor, as well as Fangorn Forest. Gimli had been patient long enough, as had Legolas, and I understood the importance that the two made this journey together. After several months, the pair returned. They each had a glow in their eyes that was unlike anything I had remembered seeing in them before. We heard much of the things they saw and experienced, and it warmed my heart to know that the pair had become such close friends. Gimli marveled at our children suddenly, his rough exterior somehow softened a bit as he looked upon us, and he spoke of finding a wife of his own, though it may have been the great amounts of wine he consumed.
Occasionally we would travel to Rivendell, only to see that it had become hollow, a shadow of its former self. Still beautiful, yet there was no longer a spirit lingering in all things that it touched. Lord Elrond had long since traveled the sea, and all the earth felt his loss. There were quite a few Elves who remained in the city, though they too mourned their Lord's departure, and also mourned the loss of their immortality. The Elves of Lothlorien were no different. Without the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood, all within their realm had begun to fade slowly, and in time it would cease to be. When we took the children there, we marveled at how it still remained, unthinking that it would disappear someday. The mallorn trees were still as tall and grand, but over the years they began to lose their shine. The healing pools that had aided me before were clear and bright, though moss was slowly creeping in. Without the Elves of Old, all the beauty in their realms was doomed to fade away. Legolas mourned this as much as I, wanting so desperately for our children to see and remember the ways of Galadriel, Celeborn, and Elrond.
Even as the years ticked away, I was surprised to see how little I aged. Even as our family increased, age seemed to delay itself with me. Legolas, of course, did not seem to age a day. I assumed he still retained his appearance from a thousand years beforehand. In total, our family increased to eight children, five girls and three boys, all of them half- elven, all of them beautiful and breathtaking. Two of the boys, Nárello and Mirimon, had hair the color of fire as well as dark gray eyes; they resembled my father so much it was startling. The other boy, Atanion, was the image of his father, Legolas. The girls Tindómerel and Iris had light brown hair the color of tree bark in the spring, with bright grey eyes that echoed the sea. As for the other girl, Altáriel, she was the image of the Lady herself, from where the name came from. Her hair was as soft and bright as pure gold, with deep fathomless eyes the color of the winter sky. It hardly seemed an accident that she was a child image of Lady Galadriel.
All our children grew strong and wise, never sick, hardly troublesome. Already in their early years there seemed a dormant intelligence that each grew into. It was clear from the time they were all born that each one had their individual talents. For example, Írissë began crafting weapons when she was the age of 12, and wielding them strongly by age 13. Atanion had a love of horses, while Nárello preferred working with stone and metal, making statues and other works of art. Iris cared for the house beside Ithiel, learning all she could of how to tend to people's needs while at the same time becoming learned in Sindarin and poetry of old. Gisele amazed me by taking her father's weapons and learning them perfectly, then proceeding to tend the gardens with such skill as I had never seen in such a young child. Mirimon was quiet and kept to himself quite a bit, until the others began teasing him, in which case he became a master of pranks, and enjoyed tormenting the others in return. He was fascinated by the trees as much as his father, and often begged to be taken to Fangorn Forest. He was a healer by nature, and his talents increased as he grew older. Tindómerel kept to her namesake, one of the twilight, and was often out studying the stars. She was a painter and a warrior, too bold to be kept behind and too stubborn to listen to reason. She reminded me much of myself at times. As for Altáriel, she read more books than any other person I could remember. She was gifted with foresight, so nothing ever caught her off guard. By the time she was 15, she was able to summon the elements to her, perform bits of magic that amazed the rest of us. No one was quite sure where this came from, but she was remarkable. Some of the Elves believed it was the Lady herself reborn. After all, it was not unheard of in Elvish culture.
Our family was large and of a variety unlike any other I had ever known. Elisen, when he visited, was so pleased by his grandchildren. It broke my heart when he passed on, just after Altáriel had turned six years old; she had seen it coming in her dreams, though we hardly believed it. We buried him in Minas Tirith at the favor of Aragorn. He was nearly eighty years old at the time of his death, well past his prime, and a miracle he lasted as long. I was already nearing my sixty-third year when he died, and yet I showed my age little. Elisen had kept his fiery color, as faded as it was with white, even unto his death. My hair was slowly fading, but I had only one or two gray hairs to show. Írissë and Iris sang at the mourning, and at his burial.
The world lost none of its beauty in my eyes, even when we visited Lothlorien and the trees were fading. I was still amazed by the giant trees and the purity of the place, memories so vivid I could have touched them. There lay a quiet over the place unlike any other, and I realized that the place was waning, drawing back into itself. Still, I was content that the children were able to visit the forest that had been long held at bay from outsiders, to learn of history and knowledge that I could help pass on. Upon my last visit there, the healing pools had dried up to small, shallow holes in the ground, with only the overgrown bushes to show for what once was. The mallorn trees had faded to a pale shine, the flets among the branches still used yet in slight disrepair. Haldir was among those who remained; surprisingly, he chose not to leave Middle Earth. He was still as young and untouched as before, though his eyes carried a great tiredness to them. He welcomed us, spoke much with Legolas, told our children of all he had seen under the Lady's rule. The golden flowers were fading, nearly spent, and Gisele made a crown of flowers for me, making certain they would never wilt.
I had no desire to abandon Middle Earth as the Elves had. Legolas had made my life complete in a way I could never have foreseen. He and I remained side by side for so long, it seemed like forever for me, though to him it was merely a few moments in time. His eyes were still a pure grey that shone brightly, his hair as bright and soft as silk. He finally told me that he too would age, for he had bound himself to me alone, and nothing on Middle Earth would matter if I were to pass on. It seemed impossible that he would ever age, yet upon my eightieth year I saw the first dampening of the light in his eyes, a weariness in his face that had snuck upon him like an early winter. Ithiel had hardly aged as well, though I saw the surprise in her face when Legolas woke up one morning and his eyes had changed. Perhaps no one else knew what to look for, for it was little known among our household.
Thranduil had kept in contact frequently, and had asked the children visit him whenever possible. Only when they were aged twenty years respectively would I allow them to travel to Mirkwood unescorted. After all, they had nearly all become skilled in their weapons of choice, and I did not doubt their skill. Thranduil had not changed, except to warm to his grandchildren. I chose not to return to that accursed forest, and he respected my decision. Legolas returned on several occasions and was well met each time.
Atanion had chosen a bride early in his life, even though he was already fifty-two. He always had been interested in all the traditions of his father's people. Marille was a lovely young elf from Mirkwood, one of the finest refined in the land. She was quiet and proper, but she loved to laugh, and she was quite friendly. Legolas and I approved, and the two were married. Four years later they had a child, a girl, who was beautiful beyond compare with sharp green eyes and silver-blonde hair like her mother. Imagine my surprise to be a grandmother to a young thing called Sáre.
After many years, after seeing nearly one hundred and thirty years, an extraordinary life span for any mere mortal, I felt the chill of time creeping upon me. It frightened me, yet I had nothing else to fear. I had survived much worse in my lifetime, seen terrible things that I would not wish upon any one. Death was inevitable, a natural course to life.
I stared out over the gardens in the early bloom of spring, bright colors leaping from their heads and reflecting in the dying sunlight. The sky was painted red and gold in the approaching twilight, silhouettes of trees against the backdrop. I breathed in the scents of hyacinth and pine, crisp water bubbling from the stream several leagues away though ever present in the air. Faint pinpricks breached the cerulean sky of the east, marking the beginning of nightfall that would be slow and lingering.
Shuddering slightly in the barely perceptible breeze of April, I turned in the balcony to see Legolas approach, and a smile filled my face. He was still as handsome as the first day I laid eyes upon him, walking out of a dream. His shining hair still glowed, streaked a bit with silver, and his face was perhaps more smooth than ever, and his eyes were as feisty as ever, even as the light dimmed. His lithe body never lost its zeal and grace, though he had refrained from wandering on any great journeys for several years. Perhaps he merely knew that the past few years would be some of my last. He walked silently to me, and took my hands in his. I stared for a moment at the wrinkled hands that lay in his flawless grasp.
As he kissed my forehead, Legolas said, "What are your thoughts, a'maelamin? You have been standing here for an hour. Did you really believe the sun would not set again tonight?"
I offered him a smile, taking a deep breath that settled easily in my chest. Tossing my thinned hair over my shoulders, I answered, "I merely wished to see it one more time, dear one. Somehow the sun falls in such splendid colors it will be emblazoned upon my mind for all eternity. You seek to rival its splendor, my love." I sighed. "You always were able to steal any woman's gaze in whatever room you entered."
Sliding an arm around my waist, he guided me back indoors and into the silent hallway. "I never felt any other woman's will to draw me away from you, for you have always held my heart within you." Legolas let his gaze flicker over my face as he smiled, brushing my hair away from my face. "You are still so beautiful, Andariel."
Laughing slightly, I said, "If surviving so long is beautiful, then forgive me if I pale next to you." For a few moments, I remained silent, wondering how to ask my question that had been burning its way in my mind for many years. "How is it that I am still alive, Legolas? You have never told me why I have aged slowly and still live. You have kept that from me, though for whatever reason I do not know."
His face became taut, his eyes still fixed upon me but they were looking through me, studying my soul and my spirit. At last he replied, "We are bound, Andariel, as I told you when I asked you to be my wife. Nothing can tear us asunder, not even now. I have bound myself to your fate, and you are bound to mine. It is because of what I am that you have lived beyond your years, aged less quickly than those around you. Are you displeased with me for keeping this from you?"
Knowing that his pledge so long ago held firm even now warmed me intensely; I felt no ill will towards my husband. "No, Legolas, I am merely amused. Perhaps if I had interpreted Lady Galadriel's words more thoroughly when I had the opportunity I would have realized what you meant when you told me that you were mine."
"There are few of the race of Man whom I know who have seen more years than you, my wife. Even those of my line are still young yet older than you know." There was nothing hidden about the bitterness in his voice. "Even the hobbits who have long since passed on lived well beyond their years, though they have not matched yours. I believe Bilbo was the last to see such years. Elanor and Goldilocks have children of their own. Aragorn and Arwen are here, love, did I not tell you?"
I looked to him in surprise. "No. I am glad that I may see them again. Where are the children?"
"They are all waiting for you, pen-neth." His grey-blue eyes glowed at me, that ever-present smile gracing his beautiful lips. For a moment I could hardly see past their depths, but I also saw a spark of sorrow lying under the surface. Suddenly he pulled me very close to his body, wrapping me securely within his arms. I felt his heart beating too quickly against his chest, but I merely lay my head against it, closing my eyes to the warmth of his grasp. It seemed a thousand years ago since he had first held me like that, but I remembered clearly the moment I had fallen in love with him in the garden of Rivendell.
His voice was quiet but steady as he said silently, "I too remember the moment when you stole my heart, melamin. The very second that I laid eyes upon you in the woods was all I needed, but when you walked beside Galain and into the House of Elrond I knew that no other would make my life complete."
I smiled, raising my face to meet his gaze, allowing myself to drown in his eyes. "You knew my heart was yours the moment you captured my eyes. I am happy, Legolas. My life is nothing shameful or regretful to me. I have seen more than I ever imagined possible, and I even have a grandchild of my own. I had hoped to see the other children marry, but perhaps it is too soon for them. They are all young, and they have many years to decide. I thank Eru that you desired to marry me, heruamin."
"I would have it no other way, arwenamin."
He kissed me gently, the passion still emblazoned upon his lips. At last he led me down the hallway and to the bedroom. I felt the ache in my muscles that had not been there before, and the weight upon my chest grew heavy. For the past several days I believed the light was fading from my life, and now it was destined to come to pass. I greatly desired that none of our children were to know, but there was little to be kept secret once Altáriel had foreseen it, and I knew she had. Somehow there was a great peace in knowing that my life was complete, and all those whom I loved would be here. Clasping quietly to Legolas' arm, I smiled to myself, content with merely holding him as I had for so many years.
At last we entered the bedroom, the most comfortable room that had been perfected over time. I smiled as Legolas led me over to the large bed covered in rich blankets and guarded by the open arms of the Elven Lady from Rivendell. All the trinkets we had acquired throughout the years were spread out in their resting places on the walls, the dressers, and in the armoire. As I sat upon the feather-soft blanket, I sighed heavily, eyes drifting towards the painting of our family that had been done twenty years ago.
"Let them come, Legolas," I said, propped up against the headboard.
For a moment he remained motionless, eyes fixed upon me. There was a great sadness lingering just behind his eyes, growing stronger with each moment. I felt the same, knowing that I was about to lose the one who had held me safely for so many years. My only regret was leaving him behind, but I had known it was to be so ever since we met.
Pursing his lips, Legolas turned and quickly walked out the door. A few moments later, Aragorn and Arwen entered. Both had aged gracefully, if at all. There was a weariness to the king's eyes that had developed slowly over the years, and his hair was streaked with gray. Still he remained proud and noble, his smile warming as he entered the room. Arwen was as lovely as ever, and I doubted she had actually become mortal. Her eyes were clear and bright, her hair dark and pinned away from her face. Slight lines were at the edges of her eyes, but few could notice them. I wondered if when Elves became mortal they aged at all.
"Andariel." Aragorn moved to my side, his smile friendly and compassionate. He took my hand in his, studying my face. "How do you fare?"
"I am well. I feel no pain nor discomfort. And you? How do you fare, good King?"
He nodded. "I am well. Gondor is safely protected. I am deeply sorry the children could not come, but they had pressing matters in the state."
As I studied his face, I marveled at how long he himself had lived, for he had long been much older than myself. I remembered clearly how he had held me upon his knee when I was a child; as he held me close now, it would be him who would bid me farewell and not the other way around.
"You have been a dear friend, Aragorn," I said quietly. "It seems strange to depart now after so long. We have both lost many of those close to us over the years, and the cycle of life continues. Now it is merely my turn."
He gently ran a hand over my face, eyes meeting mine bravely, but there was a slight tremor in his voice. "You have lived well, Andariel. All the years I have known you it has been my privilege. You are family to me, little one, as you are to those who know you."
Watching him carefully, I smiled to see the same old face of him who had saved me from the orcs, boldly charging through the camp and appearing like a vision to take me away. I had once prayed for him to be the Death Lord; he was no such thing, only a herald of its approach, a friend to see me on my way.
"You have always been in my heart, Aragorn. I thank you for all the good you have done for me and my family."
Aragorn smiled, and kissed my forehead, allowing Arwen to sit beside me as well. She took my hand, pressing it between hers, and offered a gentle smile. I saw no regrets in her eyes, even though she was mortal, and I felt the same way.
"You see the same way I do, Andariel," she said softly. "We both chose our own fates, and to that we have held. I need not ask if there is anything you would have done differently, for I see the answer in your eyes. I am proud to have called you sister."
"Dear Arwen, you have been the sister I always desired." A sharp pain rose through my chest, and I winced. Dark memories began to surface through my mind, and I felt a sudden rush of panic. Black faces haunted my mind, terrible cries breaking the air as flames surrounded everything in my vision. The world around me faded suddenly, and I gasped for breath.
Arwen laid a hand upon my cheek, distilling the violent images that haunted me. "Be still, Andariel," she whispered. "They will no longer harm you."
Taking a deep breath, I sighed. "Where are my children? I need to see the children."
Arwen held my hand tightly as Aragorn stood to go find the rest of the family. Soon the children came walking through the door, and it made my heart leap. Ithiel followed behind them, her eyes dark with worry and despair. Gisele came immediately beside me, her bright eyes studying my face calmly.
"How do you fare, mother?" she asked quietly.
"Ah, my firstborn," I smiled, reaching for her hand. I studied her pale hair wrapped tightly behind her head, displaying the high cheekbones and full lips that made her so beautiful. "It is so wonderful to see you. I desired to tell you that my heart has lived so much since you were born. It is because of you that I regained hope in life, and now at the end I may face it with peace. It was you who gave me hope, Gisele. I never told you about--"
The elf girl smiled slightly, her blue eyes glistening with tears she would not permit herself to shed and she bowed her head. "I know, mother. I know all about the child you had when you first met father."
I stared at her in great surprise. "How--how did you know?" I asked. "So very few people knew of it."
She smiled comfortingly. "Grandfather told me, long ago. He was heartbroken by it and made me swear not to tell you that I knew. It is all right, mother. It was not your fault. And you have eight children now who carry your blood, and will live on. No one can blame you for what happened."
Tears filled my eyes, and I quickly looked away towards the evening drawing quickly outside the window. The balcony was empty and vacant, leaves blowing softly on the trees outside. For a moment, I thought I saw the air shimmer as the breeze blew swiftly, and I caught my breath as I saw a pale figure emerge from the shadows. He was small, only a few years old, with shining hair the color of the sun and gleaming green eyes accentuating his pointed ears. He smiled at me, and tilted his head. Suddenly I knew, I knew that I was looking upon my first child, the one I had lost. He merely waited calmly, standing patiently on the balcony, and he did not speak.
"Mother?"
Hardly able to tear my eyes away from the doorframe, I whispered, "I am sorry. I should have told you."
Tindómerel and Mirimon approached, both glancing at one another in concern. Tindómerel knelt at the foot of the bed, her eyes filling with tears. "Mother," she said quietly. "There is nothing you need feel shame for. If there is one thing you have taught, it is that life is unpredictable and we must make do with what we are given."
Mirimon nodded, motioning to the others to gather around. "None of us can despise you for keeping it from us. There is nothing you could have done. The important thing is that you raised us well, you and father."
Even their kind words could not make the image of the young child disappear. I stared openly at him, and yet there was no panic left in me. My heart beat steadily within my chest, though I felt it slowing.
"I love you all so very much," I said firmly. "There is nothing else in my life that I am more proud of than each and every one of you, including Sáre. I desire only that each of you make your own life, and do what it is that will bring you happiness." Breath came short, and I shut my eyes for a moment, trying to hold on to the life that was still within me. "Where is Ithiel?"
The she-elf slowly walked through the gathering, her dark hair held back from her face only to illuminate the tears running down her face. She smiled awkwardly, her gray eyes dark and sorrowful as she approached, and sat beside me. I took her hand and squeezed tightly, staring up into her immortal face, even though she too would age someday. I felt deep comfort in holding her hand, knowing how devoted and loving she had been all these years.
"I could never have asked for a truer friend, Ithiel," I told her quietly. "The moment you aided me in Lothlorien, I was so pleased to have known you. You kept me alive and aided my recovery so well that I have lived to see such wondrous times. Thank you."
Bowing her head, Ithiel whispered, "It has been my pleasure, my Lady. You have been a friend to me as well. I was happy to remain in Middle Earth to stay by your side. Not once have I ever regretted my decision. Perhaps I will still live to aid your great grandchildren, and then I may tell them of you."
Swallowing hard, I smiled. The light around me was becoming fuzzy, blurring together, and I felt a numbness creeping into my limbs. Still the child waited for me at the balcony, and I shook my head. I was not ready to leave. I did not want to leave my family behind.
"Legolas." I reached out to him, nearly frantic until he lay beside me, holding me in his arms. The safety of his embrace soothed me, and I breathed heavily, calmly aware now of the encroaching numbness that was spreading up along my body. I could no longer walk, but it did not matter; there was no where I needed to go. I breathed in his scent, of vanilla and honey, of crisp sunshine over clear waters on the outskirts of the forest. His touch still lit a fire within me.
"I love you, Legolas," I whispered.
He smiled, eyes betraying the pain that was growing inside of him. "I love you, Andariel."
That was all either of us needed to know. Our lips met, and I felt the strength draining out of me. I pressed against him, hoping somehow to steal a few more moments to be in his arms. Even the past century was not enough time to be with him.
"You are all that I ever desired," I told him silently. "Thank you for saving me more often than I can remember."
His lips started to tremble as our eyes met, even though his eyes were steady, as if he were willing me his strength. His arms held me tighter. "Nay, a'maelamin. It was you who saved me from an eternity without the love we have shared."
I smiled, suddenly unable to move. There was a light growing around his face, slowly drowning out everything around me, except for him. "I see our child," I whispered. "The firstborn, he is waiting for me."
Legolas stared at me in shock, and for a moment he looked as if he wanted to scream. Instead, he smiled gently, allowing the tears to fill his eyes, and he kissed my forehead. Running a hand through my hair, he whispered, "Please do not leave, my wife. Please."
I struggled to raise a hand to his face, hardly able to feel the soft skin of his cheek. He clasped my hand to his face, staring into my eyes. For a moment all of our life blended together. There was our first meeting, our first shared kiss, our first night together, the dance, the death of our child, the orcs, the rescue, my rebirth, our reunion, the wedding, the births of our children, the secluded nights where it was only the two of us dancing beneath the trees, and all the joy and sadness we had shared together. It filled me with a warmth unlike any I had ever known, even as the chill crept over my body. My eyes drifted over to the child waiting for me, and suddenly I heard a small voice on the air: "Mother, tell father he will see me someday."
My own tears drifted down my face as I said, "He asked me to tell you that you will meet him someday. He needs me now."
Legolas shook his head a little, and I saw grief falling over him in such waves it was oppressive. The world was falling out from under him, as it was falling away from me. My heart was barely beating and my breath came only in wheezes as I offered him another smile.
"Mela en'coiamin," I whispered.
Leaning his head against mine, he whispered, "Lemeluvan unearalye lumessen tenna nurveilie."
The soft sounds of voices singing rose around me, and I recognized the voices of Írissë and Iris as they slowly sang an old Elvish song. One by one the others joined in, and soon the song was all that filled my hearing, slowly fading away. I stared up into Legolas' gray eyes, allowing the song to consume me and myself to drown in his eyes. I smiled, even as the light grew stronger around me and the chill numbed every part of me. I felt Legolas' lips press against my forehead, and I glanced over to see the child smiling broadly, standing straight and extending a hand towards me.
A strange peace flowed over me, and the music disappeared. I shuddered, and exhaled deeply as the light enveloped me.
"Namarie," I whispered, and the light washed over me. And then there was nothing.
*A/N: "Lemeluvan unearalye lumessen tenna nurveilie" is "I love you for better or worse till death do us part." "Arwenamin" is "my lady,"--intimate.
I have one more chapter to post. I really hope that this is worthy to the story.