Later that morning ...….

Oh my Arwen, there was the most beautiful singing outside our suite, and your father and I smiling, lay back in the bed and listened to the joyful voices.

When the singing faded off, your father and I sang our little hymn we had composed for you when I found I was carrying you. You looked up at us and though I know it is really way too early for such things, I could swear you smiled at us!

Not an hour later, Glorfindel came in with your brothers, who were thankfully quiet, followed closely behind by Erestor and Calador and the other elves close to your father's counsel.

Your brothers I will tell you, though they might cringe at their mother using such words, grinned like happy little bear cubs when they saw you and both were so gentle when they each asked to hold you.

Watching you nurse was such happiness Arwen. Your little face all scrunched up and when your father leaned over to kiss me and his dark curtain of hair made a warm cave around your face you stopped a moment and looked up at us.

My beautiful, beautiful baby girl!

The duties of the Lord of Imladris quietly melted away that day as he stayed with us, having his meals with us and then, while you were sleeping, he examined me thoroughly one more time and then bathed me gently, which was so refreshing.

Childbirth thankfully for elves, though traumatic in its way, and if there are no complications, is something you shall recover fairly quickly from, my love. In a matter of days no doubt, especially if your father is there to help.

Ahh, my Arwen, it was a wonderful time.

And then of course, Mother and Father showed up a few days later. They would have been there sooner but bad weather made crossing the mountains a bit wet and miserable.

It was wonderful to see them.

I was just about ready to rise from the bed too, but Mother told your father that one more day would not be remiss.

Happy to laze about with you at my side, I laughed behind my hand as Mother gave Elrond "the look." You know which one I mean. The look that says "Do not cross me, I may tell you something you have no wish to know!"

Your father, ever the diplomat, always bowed to Mother's wisdom. Father of course was just pleased as a hawk with a fat rabbit when he saw you and I. Bending to kiss you, I inhaled the wonderful fragrance of mallorn blossoms in your grandfather's hair as it brushed my face.

My heart clenched at the moment. When would I get a chance to go visit Caras Galadon?

When he stood, his eyes went dark and then he smiled slightly. Bending again to kiss me on the cheek, he answered me softly, "Soon, my darling. I am so very proud of you. What a fine, fine she-elf she is."

Oh Ada! I shall miss you terribly!! And Amme. Their coming to Valinor cannot be too soon!

But I was talking of your first days!

They were so full! You Grandmother could not hold you enough. Everyone wanted to hold you!

But though it was wonderful to share your birth with all and sundry, it is the moments alone with your father and brothers I remember best of all.

It must have been after your grandparents left, and our family was gathered in our suite as had been our wont, because you were so small and needed feeding frequently.

I was nursing you in a chair by the fire, my feet up on a footstool, the warm candle light glistened in your father's hair as he concentrated on a sheaf of parchment in his lap. He sat in his favorite chair, the one carved with swans and made out of oak and inlaid with cedar on the other of the fire.

His dark maroon robe glowed warmly with firelight.

It was raining outside and your brothers were quietly playing chess on the hearth rug, between us, making small bursts of comment after an especially unexpected move.

Nothing happened that night Arwen….it was just the peacefulness of the scene I remember fondly. My eyes moisten up at it thinking of it now.

Those were happy, happy times love.

But not the only ones, my sweet!!

Ooh, your first steps!! Oh Arwen, when a baby makes that first big effort to stand and walk, it is just an amazing example of elf-kind at its most indomitable.

You were on the grass between your father and I. Out in the private garden here in early summer.

Your father had his arms outstretched and was cooing to you.

You may not remember this but your sweet father had a handful of endearing little nicknames for you. "Wennie-kins" (this he only used when he was playing with your toes. You should have seen the light of love in his eyes when he would bend over you in your cradle, humming and tweaking your toes.) "Little cygnet" and my favorite, "my starlight."

Do not grimace! Everyone's childhood is littered with such things. My nickname was "my little Bri" and ah, "Ada's little butterfly." Luckily I think, your father does not remember any of his childhood nicknames since his youth was so topsy-turvy. Knowing him, he probably got called "the quiet one" if nothing else, since he was ever studious.

I was talking about your first steps.

You watched your father with big eyes as he encouraged you sweetly with smiles and a string of your nicknames. Then you pulled yourself up by holding onto my gown.

And you stood! And your father, just delighted, clapped his hands and I laughed when, startled you plopped right down and were about to cry....but then your father started playing peek-a-boo, by pulling long strands of his hair in front of his face and then suddenly revealing his smile.

Well, that stopped your tears (I was trying hard not to laugh out loud) and you pulled yourself up again and then, your eyes riveted to your fathers, you took a step and then another and then another and then......plop! Right back down on your nappy!

But that was the start! Everyday thereafter, you got stronger and more bold and soon, your brothers were helping you navigate stairs.

Of course the stairs gave us many, many anxious moments, but thankfully your bruises and scrapes were few.

I smile even now. Arwen you have no idea how utterly undone your father would become if you got any injury!! Anything! A splinter, a stubbed toe, scratches. If he could have healed with a touch it would have be done.

And as I said, that one time when you broke your arm......Oh sweetheart, he lay next to you that first night, silent tears ran down his face as he held you close to him. I sat in the chair next to your bed, but your father needed to be even closer. Poor love!

He so wanted you to be whole again!

Now lest you get a swelled head about this, your father was equally devastated if the boys injured themselves. But I think because it was more expected that boys, with sword practice and archery and climbing anything taller than they, would garner them their share of mishaps.

Thankfully, I have only given your father cause to using his healing skills infrequently, save for this last event. Of which I am so sorry that I cannot find in myself healing or surcease from the relentless horror, to spare you all from any further pain my unwholesome unbalanced presence may inflict upon you.

I am sorry my Arwen. Believe me, if I could change things back to the way they were, I would do so in a heartbeat.

Someday, when you come to the West, I will be able to tell you more clearly what has happened to me.

And to my soul.

But I will spare you these things now....