A/N: Hello all again. This is another short piece in what I've just decided
to make a three or four parter. This is Arwen's POV on the same scene. Wish
I own them, but I only play with them, and when I return them, they won't
be damaged. Not much else to say, so just enjoy!
She stood there. She could not tear herself away from this place. No matter how many hours, days, weeks, she had stood here, she could not leave. She knew her children were worried about her, and could feel their pain at losing him as well. Even worse for them to know that she had to hold on and forever carry this pain. But she could not let it go anymore then she could let him go.
She could feel her face was still shinning from the many tears she had already shed. It did not matter anymore. She had never really understood mortality and death until now. As an elf, she had never had to feel it, but she sure did now. The only other time she had felt pain was when her father and all her kin had left for the Grey Havens. Yet that had been bearable, for she had him with her, and was choosing to be left behind. Now he was the one who had gone.
She slowly fingered the knife that she held underneath her black satin dress. Long before Aragorn had died, she had promised herself she would live to see her grandchildren's children before it came to this, but she had not known then how hard it truely would be. Everything reminded her of him, of what they had shared. The sweet memories, and even the not so sweet ones she will cherish forever.
While she was pondering, Arwen brought the knife out of the folds of the soft fabric, and held the handle in her palm. The only time she had ever really feared when he had been here, was when he had tried to give the Even Star back to her. Though she knew in her heart he loved her, it was still a relief when he accepted her decision, and took it back, and thus her.
The blade on the knife was sharp and sweet. She was ready. She had said all her good-byes, though none had known that it was good-bye forever. She had visited all the places she and Aragorn had loved. She even spent some time in Lorien, though it was now cold and grey without the wonder and light of the elves that had dwelled there. She wished for Galadriel, for her wisdom, and all the ones who had lived there, but she could never wish she had gone with them.
Though she could not stay away from his grave for long, she had also graced the wet earth with many tears in the forest in the once beautiful Rivendell where they had first met. Bittersweet were her tears, and would be her death. She was not afraid. She did not know where elves went on the occasion they did die, but she would soon find out.
She held the blade above her heart, tears pouring down her face, cried, "My Estel!", and...
TO BE CONTINUED...I'm evil... ::wink::
She stood there. She could not tear herself away from this place. No matter how many hours, days, weeks, she had stood here, she could not leave. She knew her children were worried about her, and could feel their pain at losing him as well. Even worse for them to know that she had to hold on and forever carry this pain. But she could not let it go anymore then she could let him go.
She could feel her face was still shinning from the many tears she had already shed. It did not matter anymore. She had never really understood mortality and death until now. As an elf, she had never had to feel it, but she sure did now. The only other time she had felt pain was when her father and all her kin had left for the Grey Havens. Yet that had been bearable, for she had him with her, and was choosing to be left behind. Now he was the one who had gone.
She slowly fingered the knife that she held underneath her black satin dress. Long before Aragorn had died, she had promised herself she would live to see her grandchildren's children before it came to this, but she had not known then how hard it truely would be. Everything reminded her of him, of what they had shared. The sweet memories, and even the not so sweet ones she will cherish forever.
While she was pondering, Arwen brought the knife out of the folds of the soft fabric, and held the handle in her palm. The only time she had ever really feared when he had been here, was when he had tried to give the Even Star back to her. Though she knew in her heart he loved her, it was still a relief when he accepted her decision, and took it back, and thus her.
The blade on the knife was sharp and sweet. She was ready. She had said all her good-byes, though none had known that it was good-bye forever. She had visited all the places she and Aragorn had loved. She even spent some time in Lorien, though it was now cold and grey without the wonder and light of the elves that had dwelled there. She wished for Galadriel, for her wisdom, and all the ones who had lived there, but she could never wish she had gone with them.
Though she could not stay away from his grave for long, she had also graced the wet earth with many tears in the forest in the once beautiful Rivendell where they had first met. Bittersweet were her tears, and would be her death. She was not afraid. She did not know where elves went on the occasion they did die, but she would soon find out.
She held the blade above her heart, tears pouring down her face, cried, "My Estel!", and...
TO BE CONTINUED...I'm evil... ::wink::