Mirror and Memory
Author: Marina (taelle@yahoo.com)
Pairing: Aragorn/Arwen, Elladan/Elrohir (implied)
Archive: yes
Rating: PG-13, at most
Dislaimers: This story uses characters and
universe belonging to J.R.R.Tolkien. They
characters are not used for profit. Please view my
story as a respectful comment on the work of a
beloved writer.
Summary: Not only brides and grooms have
pre-wedding jitters.
-----------------------------
She's really going to do this. I think up to this moment I
didn't believe, couldn't believe. But now she's going to do
it, and she doesn't seem to be afraid.
We lived longer than many of those surrounding us and saw
much more, and we weren't afraid often. But now I'm afraid —
òot for me, for her. The choice, the final choice of our
family lies before her and there's no hesitation in her.
I asked her why between one celebratory party and another,
why and how did she make such a weighty decision. She smiled
and said that she decided years ago. But that was no answer,
wasn't it? She said it like there was no other choice.
But there *is* a choice, and I know it very well. As well as
I know that I could never choose for myself only. Funny, but
once I talked with her about this — many centuries ago, long
before she thought about marrying this Man. Long before this
Man was even born.
Yes, I remember this talk now. She asked me how we did this.
How we would choose if, for example, I wanted to go West and
you wanted to stay. I stared at her, unable to answer,
unable even to comprehend her question. Finally, when she
started to get frustrated — do you remember how she used to
get angry when we didn't answer her questions? — I said that
such thing just could not happen. I don't think she
understood.
Don't you think that strange? We all grew together, were
taught the same things. We should know each other as well as
it is possible to know someone, as well as I could ever know
anyone who isn't you. And yet I am unable to explain such an
important thing to her, or get her to explain herself to me.
Doesn't she know that my life is tied to yours, getting only
closer with years? I look at us now and I can't find the
line separating me from you. Perhaps if I find this line, if
I am parted from you irrevocably, I will simply die — not
from grief even, but from loss of myself.
And she must be expecting this loss already — she who is
getting ready to bind herself to this Man, to this mortal. I
like him, but we could have been closer friends than we are.
I cannot imagine letting a mortal so close to my heart. You
know what I mean, don't you? You must feel that faint ache
too when you look at him, at them. How can she stand it? Her
ache must be a million times stronger, yet it doesn't break
her, doesn't make her keep away.
Is she that much braver? Perhaps she is — or perhaps she is
already so well-acquainted with loneliness that it holds no
fear for her. And we who were never alone in our life simply
cannot understand her choice, her temporary flight from
loneliness.
And yes, I know I ponder too much over such things. But do
not laugh at me — don't you fear for her too? So better come
with me, brother, make me forget our fears and our future. I
know you can do it — at least for a while. At least until
Arwen's wedding.
The end.
Author: Marina (taelle@yahoo.com)
Pairing: Aragorn/Arwen, Elladan/Elrohir (implied)
Archive: yes
Rating: PG-13, at most
Dislaimers: This story uses characters and
universe belonging to J.R.R.Tolkien. They
characters are not used for profit. Please view my
story as a respectful comment on the work of a
beloved writer.
Summary: Not only brides and grooms have
pre-wedding jitters.
-----------------------------
She's really going to do this. I think up to this moment I
didn't believe, couldn't believe. But now she's going to do
it, and she doesn't seem to be afraid.
We lived longer than many of those surrounding us and saw
much more, and we weren't afraid often. But now I'm afraid —
òot for me, for her. The choice, the final choice of our
family lies before her and there's no hesitation in her.
I asked her why between one celebratory party and another,
why and how did she make such a weighty decision. She smiled
and said that she decided years ago. But that was no answer,
wasn't it? She said it like there was no other choice.
But there *is* a choice, and I know it very well. As well as
I know that I could never choose for myself only. Funny, but
once I talked with her about this — many centuries ago, long
before she thought about marrying this Man. Long before this
Man was even born.
Yes, I remember this talk now. She asked me how we did this.
How we would choose if, for example, I wanted to go West and
you wanted to stay. I stared at her, unable to answer,
unable even to comprehend her question. Finally, when she
started to get frustrated — do you remember how she used to
get angry when we didn't answer her questions? — I said that
such thing just could not happen. I don't think she
understood.
Don't you think that strange? We all grew together, were
taught the same things. We should know each other as well as
it is possible to know someone, as well as I could ever know
anyone who isn't you. And yet I am unable to explain such an
important thing to her, or get her to explain herself to me.
Doesn't she know that my life is tied to yours, getting only
closer with years? I look at us now and I can't find the
line separating me from you. Perhaps if I find this line, if
I am parted from you irrevocably, I will simply die — not
from grief even, but from loss of myself.
And she must be expecting this loss already — she who is
getting ready to bind herself to this Man, to this mortal. I
like him, but we could have been closer friends than we are.
I cannot imagine letting a mortal so close to my heart. You
know what I mean, don't you? You must feel that faint ache
too when you look at him, at them. How can she stand it? Her
ache must be a million times stronger, yet it doesn't break
her, doesn't make her keep away.
Is she that much braver? Perhaps she is — or perhaps she is
already so well-acquainted with loneliness that it holds no
fear for her. And we who were never alone in our life simply
cannot understand her choice, her temporary flight from
loneliness.
And yes, I know I ponder too much over such things. But do
not laugh at me — don't you fear for her too? So better come
with me, brother, make me forget our fears and our future. I
know you can do it — at least for a while. At least until
Arwen's wedding.
The end.