Too much time on my hands led to this. Blame Peter Jackson, or go hug a
goat if you don't like it. :-P This is set in movieverse, and don't flame
me, telling me to read the books. I have. I'm very familiar with them. As
well, my beta is a gift from the Blue Lady. He's the only person I know
that could change Imladris to Imladris and SWEAR it read Rivendell. I
understand the elves at Helm's Deep were not in the book. But try as I
might, I just couldn't let this go. So. what if the Evenstar had been at
the stronghold when Aragorn arrived bearing news of the Uruk-hai?
Disclaimer: Tolkien's world, Jackson's scene, my story. Could it BE more simple? The formatting is a little "off", since my computer needs to have the HTML supports reinstalled. Argh! Therefore the elvish isn't italicized, sorry. And I tried to use it sparingly, with only basic words that most fanfic readers are familiar with. I'll eventually get around to reuploading it, probably on school time. *whistles*
More to come if people want it. This story in almost complete form had been sitting on my hard drive since December 19th, but then I lost the entire thing. I finally got around to retyping it and sending it off to my beta. Then it took me another week to get it up. I certainly hope this isn't similar to another story. Becuase if I actually managed to come up with an original concept, I will be so far beyond happy it's not funny. But of course, my fanfic reading is behind because of the holidays, so it's not likely. ^-^
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Brégo was a swift ride, even with the load of a man that hardly seemed to know whether or not he was alive. Sorrow and weariness seeped into his bones, and he wished for release. Any release. But still the rolling green hills of Rohan flew beneath him, and he began to regain strength.
Shards of his dreams danced in his head, withholding their secrets. Perhaps he was not meant to know them. The jewel of the Evenstar was no longer around his neck. A gift from any elf did not fall without a reason.
'Arwen's time here is ending. Let her go'. She had sailed for Valinor then, her beauty left only in memory.
A feeling of loss swept over him. He had loved her. He still loved her, and always would. But it was enough to let her go, to spare her the pain. She had gone, as he knew she must. And he knew that even as memory failed in years to come, her face would be with him always. A lifetime of man he had loved her, and memories would have to do. Something he could hold onto in the darkest of days.
As he thought, the horse of a fallen prince was bearing him ever closer to Helm's Deep. In the distance he saw movement. Sitting taller, he strained to see. An advancing army of Uruk-hai! Within moments they were close enough to count. There had to be over ten thousand of them, heading to a final destination. He had to warn Théoden! Spurring Brégo to greater speed, Aragorn headed to the stronghold of Rohan.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
His coming was unexpected. The look of disbelief on the guard's faces was enough to make him smile. A quick exchange in the Rohirrim tongue convinced them that he was indeed Aragorn, and that he had not perished in his fall. He made no mention of the blessing he received.
As he rode in, the people greeted him with smiles and laughter. This miracle was enough to have hope. I'How soon it is to be dashed',/I he thought bitterly. Théoden had done what he thought best for his people, but Aragorn knew he was wrong. Helm's Deep was a death trap. Though a final glorious stand would be preferable to years of torment and regrets. It was time to fight.
He barely acknowledged Gimli when the dwarf pushed through the crowd to meet him, having no time for tales. The king was his objective for the moment. He was glad that his friend had survived, though he doubted Legolas would have allowed harm to come to Gimli. Their friendship was strong, seemingly cemented by the one thing that had led to an early dislike for one another: their separate races. Aragorn scanned the crowd, looking for the prince. He stopped short at the sight of an unexpected face.
Arwen. Despite every logical thought, she was there. Standing before him, a sight he never thought he would see again. He headed towards her, a million thoughts rushing through his mind. This was not right. Unanswered questions, unspoken accusations. He had thought that this was over. The look she had given him as he left Imladris said it all. They were supposed to be finished. He couldn't stand to look into her eyes, afraid of what he may see. Hate or anger he could deal with, soothing away with thoughts of what was right. But if he saw love.he didn't know what he would do.
He stopped just inches from her, every part of him screaming to reach out and touch her. To make sure she was real. But he restrained himself, content to look upon her face once more. Every eyelash, the hue of her skin, the uniquely Arwen scent, he categorized and stored for future reference. Several minutes passed, and the only thing he hadn't done was met her gaze.
It was she who broke the silence.
"I believe you lost this melda," she whispered, fastening a chain around his neck. "Trust it." Her hand hovered over it briefly, a touch so ever fleeting.
"What are you doing here?"
"This is no dream."
"I did not ask if it was a dream Undomiel, I asked you what you are doing here." His tone was gruff, but she thought she saw a faint smile on his face.
"I promised ada I would sail to the Gray Havens, but my heart would not allow it. I slipped away from the company with a horse and made my way here."
"You rode from Imladris to Rohan alone? That was foolish my love. Very foolish indeed. And were you not missed? Do you not think your father will hear of this? What will he say?" Aragorn's voice had risen in anger, and a small audience had gathered around the arguing lord and the mysterious maiden. An elf, of all things.
"Would you rather I sail to the west?" She shot back.
He had no reply. His mind said yes, his heart no. Arwen belonged with her people, not the last of a failing bloodline. But he wanted her to be with him. To bind herself to a doomed fate. It was selfish he knew, but it did not quell the desire in his heart.
Her tone softened. "I would not, even if you asked it of me again Estel. I would stare here to mourn what should have been. No, I will not see the Gray Havens. My love for you sealed my fate long ago."
He brushed an errant strand of hair from her face. "As you wish m'lady."
She caught his hand as it left her face, and held it tight.
"Lady Eowyn," he called to the woman that had watched the exchange. "Perhaps you may find some proper attire for Lady Arwen? Her travel clothes seem the worse for wear."
Eowyn forced a gracious smile. "Of course Lord Aragorn. It would be my pleasure. We are glad to see you are alive and well."
"So am I," he said, no trace of humour in his voice.
The two women headed off to change, but stopped at the Ranger's voice.
"Arwen. You would not have taken Asfaloth for another ride?"
"Of course not. I may have chosen mortality, but I was hoping to live several years yet. I do not imagine Glorfindel would be happy with such an exchange."
Shaking his head in amusement, Aragorn headed to the King's chambers.
...............
Translations, according to a fairly decent source:
Melda = beloved
Ada = Father, or rather Dad
Disclaimer: Tolkien's world, Jackson's scene, my story. Could it BE more simple? The formatting is a little "off", since my computer needs to have the HTML supports reinstalled. Argh! Therefore the elvish isn't italicized, sorry. And I tried to use it sparingly, with only basic words that most fanfic readers are familiar with. I'll eventually get around to reuploading it, probably on school time. *whistles*
More to come if people want it. This story in almost complete form had been sitting on my hard drive since December 19th, but then I lost the entire thing. I finally got around to retyping it and sending it off to my beta. Then it took me another week to get it up. I certainly hope this isn't similar to another story. Becuase if I actually managed to come up with an original concept, I will be so far beyond happy it's not funny. But of course, my fanfic reading is behind because of the holidays, so it's not likely. ^-^
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Brégo was a swift ride, even with the load of a man that hardly seemed to know whether or not he was alive. Sorrow and weariness seeped into his bones, and he wished for release. Any release. But still the rolling green hills of Rohan flew beneath him, and he began to regain strength.
Shards of his dreams danced in his head, withholding their secrets. Perhaps he was not meant to know them. The jewel of the Evenstar was no longer around his neck. A gift from any elf did not fall without a reason.
'Arwen's time here is ending. Let her go'. She had sailed for Valinor then, her beauty left only in memory.
A feeling of loss swept over him. He had loved her. He still loved her, and always would. But it was enough to let her go, to spare her the pain. She had gone, as he knew she must. And he knew that even as memory failed in years to come, her face would be with him always. A lifetime of man he had loved her, and memories would have to do. Something he could hold onto in the darkest of days.
As he thought, the horse of a fallen prince was bearing him ever closer to Helm's Deep. In the distance he saw movement. Sitting taller, he strained to see. An advancing army of Uruk-hai! Within moments they were close enough to count. There had to be over ten thousand of them, heading to a final destination. He had to warn Théoden! Spurring Brégo to greater speed, Aragorn headed to the stronghold of Rohan.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
His coming was unexpected. The look of disbelief on the guard's faces was enough to make him smile. A quick exchange in the Rohirrim tongue convinced them that he was indeed Aragorn, and that he had not perished in his fall. He made no mention of the blessing he received.
As he rode in, the people greeted him with smiles and laughter. This miracle was enough to have hope. I'How soon it is to be dashed',/I he thought bitterly. Théoden had done what he thought best for his people, but Aragorn knew he was wrong. Helm's Deep was a death trap. Though a final glorious stand would be preferable to years of torment and regrets. It was time to fight.
He barely acknowledged Gimli when the dwarf pushed through the crowd to meet him, having no time for tales. The king was his objective for the moment. He was glad that his friend had survived, though he doubted Legolas would have allowed harm to come to Gimli. Their friendship was strong, seemingly cemented by the one thing that had led to an early dislike for one another: their separate races. Aragorn scanned the crowd, looking for the prince. He stopped short at the sight of an unexpected face.
Arwen. Despite every logical thought, she was there. Standing before him, a sight he never thought he would see again. He headed towards her, a million thoughts rushing through his mind. This was not right. Unanswered questions, unspoken accusations. He had thought that this was over. The look she had given him as he left Imladris said it all. They were supposed to be finished. He couldn't stand to look into her eyes, afraid of what he may see. Hate or anger he could deal with, soothing away with thoughts of what was right. But if he saw love.he didn't know what he would do.
He stopped just inches from her, every part of him screaming to reach out and touch her. To make sure she was real. But he restrained himself, content to look upon her face once more. Every eyelash, the hue of her skin, the uniquely Arwen scent, he categorized and stored for future reference. Several minutes passed, and the only thing he hadn't done was met her gaze.
It was she who broke the silence.
"I believe you lost this melda," she whispered, fastening a chain around his neck. "Trust it." Her hand hovered over it briefly, a touch so ever fleeting.
"What are you doing here?"
"This is no dream."
"I did not ask if it was a dream Undomiel, I asked you what you are doing here." His tone was gruff, but she thought she saw a faint smile on his face.
"I promised ada I would sail to the Gray Havens, but my heart would not allow it. I slipped away from the company with a horse and made my way here."
"You rode from Imladris to Rohan alone? That was foolish my love. Very foolish indeed. And were you not missed? Do you not think your father will hear of this? What will he say?" Aragorn's voice had risen in anger, and a small audience had gathered around the arguing lord and the mysterious maiden. An elf, of all things.
"Would you rather I sail to the west?" She shot back.
He had no reply. His mind said yes, his heart no. Arwen belonged with her people, not the last of a failing bloodline. But he wanted her to be with him. To bind herself to a doomed fate. It was selfish he knew, but it did not quell the desire in his heart.
Her tone softened. "I would not, even if you asked it of me again Estel. I would stare here to mourn what should have been. No, I will not see the Gray Havens. My love for you sealed my fate long ago."
He brushed an errant strand of hair from her face. "As you wish m'lady."
She caught his hand as it left her face, and held it tight.
"Lady Eowyn," he called to the woman that had watched the exchange. "Perhaps you may find some proper attire for Lady Arwen? Her travel clothes seem the worse for wear."
Eowyn forced a gracious smile. "Of course Lord Aragorn. It would be my pleasure. We are glad to see you are alive and well."
"So am I," he said, no trace of humour in his voice.
The two women headed off to change, but stopped at the Ranger's voice.
"Arwen. You would not have taken Asfaloth for another ride?"
"Of course not. I may have chosen mortality, but I was hoping to live several years yet. I do not imagine Glorfindel would be happy with such an exchange."
Shaking his head in amusement, Aragorn headed to the King's chambers.
...............
Translations, according to a fairly decent source:
Melda = beloved
Ada = Father, or rather Dad