EPILOGUE: THE FINAL PARTING
Her hand trembled as she pushed open the door and stepped out into the courtyard. Arwen knew that Aragorn would be leaving *again*, but she had not anticipated how soon his departure would be.
As she descended the marble steps, the breeze gently thrashing her dark locks into her face, Aragorn turned away from his conversation with Mithrandir to face her. Their eyes locked as he cocked his head, beckoning her to follow him. He slipped away from the Fellowship and strode towards an area obscured by pillar; it was the most privacy they could be afforded at the moment, so she followed him in silence, ignoring the dark look Elrond cast in her direction.
As she drew nearer, Aragorn stiffened. More than once, he opened his mouth as if to say something, then thought better of it. Arwen could sense the unease in his heart - and only part of it involved the journey to Mount Doom. No, something else weighed heavily on his mind, something that seemed to be slowly devouring him. But what?
"Estel -" she began, but he raised a hand to stop her next words.
"Arwen," he said with a sigh, eyes roving the courtyard. Perhaps he feared that this would be the last morn he would ever spend in Imladris? Of course it would, for the elves were beginning to depart for Valinor...
"Estel, you are anxious," she said, stepping closer. "I can feel it. Please, meleth-nin, tell me what ails you?"
He inhaled a sharp breath, and took her smooth hands in his roughened grasp. "Edra le men, men na guil edwen..." [You have a chance for another life...] he whispered, his eyes hardening "Haer o auth a nîr a naeth." [Away from war... grief... Despair.]
She swallowed, struggling to find her voice. "Why are you saying this?"
"I'm mortal; you are elf kind," he replied, the words reluctantly leaving his lips. "It was a dream Arwen, nothing more." Looking stricken at what he had just declared, Aragorn stepped back for a moment, trying to mask his own shock at having uttered such a thing. He allowed their hands to slip apart before opening his other fist to unveil the Evenstar, glimmering in the early morning sunlight, laying upon the worn leather of his gloves.
Aragorn held the jewel out to her. "This belongs to you."
She shook her head, unable to believe that Estel could say such words after all they had shared over the years. So often had he told Arwen that he loved her; why was he now trying to give back the most powerful symbol of their love?
The words tumbled from suddenly dry lips. "It was a gift. Keep it." Her gaze dropped to the ground so that he would not see the gleam in her eyes that meant only one thing: tears. Arwen felt her throat tighten painfully as she struggled to maintain her composure. If she looked upon him, she knew her sorrow would spill forth.
Aragorn blinked, feeling as though a dagger had been plunged into his heart. How he wished to take Arwen in his arms, to kiss her brow and hold her close, and promise her that he would never break her heart. But he could not. He could not.
Elrond's voice still echoed in his head. 'I will not leave my daughter here to die!' And he was right... Arwen was the elf's fairest daughter, their Evenstar. Luthien Tinuviel had already been lost to them. Why should they have to lose another of their daughters to death?
"Your companions await," Arwen's monotonous voice drew Aragorn from his thoughts as she lifted her gaze to meet his stone grey eyes.
"Arwen, you must know that this is for your own good," he replied, stepping closer; but she recoiled. "Arwen, I may not come back. I do not want you to remain here if I die. Dark times are ahead, Arwen, and I want to know that if we fail, you will at least be safe in Valinor with your people..."
"I do belong with my people, Estel. I belong with you." She lay a hand over his heart; but he swept it away. "I love you, Estel."
"It was a dream, Arwen... Only a dream..."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Arwen?" Bilbo's concerned voice drew the elf-maiden from her thoughts. She turned to the elderly hobbit, tears meandering down her ashen face.
The hobbit stifled a gasp at her appearance, before placing a tiny hand over her own to soothe her. "Lady Arwen, what is wrong?" He sank onto the grass beside her.
"It is Aragorn," she choked. "He wants me to sail to Valinor. No," she corrected herself. "Ada wants me to sail to Valinor. Aragorn was only repeating my father's wishes."
"I see," Bilbo nodded, unsure of what to say. He had never experienced such heartbreak in his life, nor known anyone to suffer like this. "But what your father wants should not matter, Lady Evenstar. This is your decision to make; yours, and no-one else's."
She nodded, and stood, brushing a blade of grass off her dress before turning towards the house. Yes, it was her decision, and she had made her choice.
For Aragorn, she would wait forever.
Her hand trembled as she pushed open the door and stepped out into the courtyard. Arwen knew that Aragorn would be leaving *again*, but she had not anticipated how soon his departure would be.
As she descended the marble steps, the breeze gently thrashing her dark locks into her face, Aragorn turned away from his conversation with Mithrandir to face her. Their eyes locked as he cocked his head, beckoning her to follow him. He slipped away from the Fellowship and strode towards an area obscured by pillar; it was the most privacy they could be afforded at the moment, so she followed him in silence, ignoring the dark look Elrond cast in her direction.
As she drew nearer, Aragorn stiffened. More than once, he opened his mouth as if to say something, then thought better of it. Arwen could sense the unease in his heart - and only part of it involved the journey to Mount Doom. No, something else weighed heavily on his mind, something that seemed to be slowly devouring him. But what?
"Estel -" she began, but he raised a hand to stop her next words.
"Arwen," he said with a sigh, eyes roving the courtyard. Perhaps he feared that this would be the last morn he would ever spend in Imladris? Of course it would, for the elves were beginning to depart for Valinor...
"Estel, you are anxious," she said, stepping closer. "I can feel it. Please, meleth-nin, tell me what ails you?"
He inhaled a sharp breath, and took her smooth hands in his roughened grasp. "Edra le men, men na guil edwen..." [You have a chance for another life...] he whispered, his eyes hardening "Haer o auth a nîr a naeth." [Away from war... grief... Despair.]
She swallowed, struggling to find her voice. "Why are you saying this?"
"I'm mortal; you are elf kind," he replied, the words reluctantly leaving his lips. "It was a dream Arwen, nothing more." Looking stricken at what he had just declared, Aragorn stepped back for a moment, trying to mask his own shock at having uttered such a thing. He allowed their hands to slip apart before opening his other fist to unveil the Evenstar, glimmering in the early morning sunlight, laying upon the worn leather of his gloves.
Aragorn held the jewel out to her. "This belongs to you."
She shook her head, unable to believe that Estel could say such words after all they had shared over the years. So often had he told Arwen that he loved her; why was he now trying to give back the most powerful symbol of their love?
The words tumbled from suddenly dry lips. "It was a gift. Keep it." Her gaze dropped to the ground so that he would not see the gleam in her eyes that meant only one thing: tears. Arwen felt her throat tighten painfully as she struggled to maintain her composure. If she looked upon him, she knew her sorrow would spill forth.
Aragorn blinked, feeling as though a dagger had been plunged into his heart. How he wished to take Arwen in his arms, to kiss her brow and hold her close, and promise her that he would never break her heart. But he could not. He could not.
Elrond's voice still echoed in his head. 'I will not leave my daughter here to die!' And he was right... Arwen was the elf's fairest daughter, their Evenstar. Luthien Tinuviel had already been lost to them. Why should they have to lose another of their daughters to death?
"Your companions await," Arwen's monotonous voice drew Aragorn from his thoughts as she lifted her gaze to meet his stone grey eyes.
"Arwen, you must know that this is for your own good," he replied, stepping closer; but she recoiled. "Arwen, I may not come back. I do not want you to remain here if I die. Dark times are ahead, Arwen, and I want to know that if we fail, you will at least be safe in Valinor with your people..."
"I do belong with my people, Estel. I belong with you." She lay a hand over his heart; but he swept it away. "I love you, Estel."
"It was a dream, Arwen... Only a dream..."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Arwen?" Bilbo's concerned voice drew the elf-maiden from her thoughts. She turned to the elderly hobbit, tears meandering down her ashen face.
The hobbit stifled a gasp at her appearance, before placing a tiny hand over her own to soothe her. "Lady Arwen, what is wrong?" He sank onto the grass beside her.
"It is Aragorn," she choked. "He wants me to sail to Valinor. No," she corrected herself. "Ada wants me to sail to Valinor. Aragorn was only repeating my father's wishes."
"I see," Bilbo nodded, unsure of what to say. He had never experienced such heartbreak in his life, nor known anyone to suffer like this. "But what your father wants should not matter, Lady Evenstar. This is your decision to make; yours, and no-one else's."
She nodded, and stood, brushing a blade of grass off her dress before turning towards the house. Yes, it was her decision, and she had made her choice.
For Aragorn, she would wait forever.