The Soldier and the Princess
Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings does not belong to me. JRR Tolkien has that happy pleasure. Had that happy pleasure. Anyway, the characters in this story do not belong to me. This is purely to please myself and those besides me who enjoy this sort of thing. I also do not own the song "Enchantment Passing Through." That honor goes to Elton John and Tim Rice. The wedding vows come from Dragons of Autumn Twilight. If some of the words don't fit, remember that these vows are *ancient.* When they were written, they fit, and elves are.well.set in their ways? Oh, btw, Anaiyah and Tyrennafaile are original characters. *Their* stories will be related later.
Author's Notes: This is an Elrond/Celebrian get-together, mainly from Elrond's point of view. If there are any complaints as to how this is done, ::coughcough, Elrond's relationship to Gil-Galad coughcough:: register them politely. Please. I got some slightly less-than-polite comments on my Galadriel/Celeborn fic, which is discontinued. As far as I know, this is an A/U. Enjoy!
Epilogue: Arwen
That evening, I sat alone with my daughters. The boys were off, remembering their mother in their own way. They were the ones who had found and rescued her. I never asked for that story, and they never told it. I have a feeling they only truly remembered it in nightmares.
None of us spoke for quite some time. After a few hours, Anaiyah said good night and went to bed. Arwen and I sat there alone for quite some time afterwards. She was sitting at my feet, her head resting on my knee.
"Papa?" she murmured.
"Yes, Arwen?"
"Are you leaving, too?" I blinked. That was the last question I had expected.
"No, Arwen. At least, not yet."
"Good." She sighed, and shifted her position slightly. "Papa?"
"Hmmm?"
"I love you."
"I know, Arwen." I paused. "You should go to bed, too," I chided gently.
She nodded and stood. She kissed my forehead and turned to go. "Good night, Papa," she said.
"Good night, Arwen."
She was about to leave, but she paused. "Papa, even when the night is darkest before dawn, you know the sun will rise in the morning." (A/N: This particular line was inspired by the second verse from "May it be:" May it be/the shadow's call/will fly away./May it be/you journey on/to light the day./*When the night is overcome/you may rise to find the sun./* Thought you'd want to know. *Pretty* song.) I blinked. Again, Arwen was surprising me. She sighed. "Good night, Papa."
"Good night, Arwen." I watched her as she left. She was a beautiful combination of my grandmother, Luthien Tinuviel, (A/N: Yes, I'm aware that Tinuviel is a step farther removed, but I don't care) and her mother. I smiled. She would make someone a lovely wife someday.. Suddenly, as if sparked by that thought, two memories hit me.
"And the trees, the wind, what do they tell you?"
Celebrian thought for a moment. "Well.many things."
"What are they telling you now?"
"They are telling me that my daughter will be the wife of a great king."
"The great king that you were told of will come, but you won't recognize him for what he is, and you will not like it. However, by the time you figure it out, it will be too late for both the king and his bride. Remember that."
"It's you, isn't it, Arwen," I murmured. "*You* are the one your mother and aunt prophesied. Strange, that I did not see it before.as to why it's not your sister.she's too much like me. You will be the wife of a great king.which means I have to make you ready to be a great queen. Faile was right, though. I am *not* going to like it. I suppose no father likes it when his daughter gets married, though. Valar. Married." I sighed. "I can't imagine it. You are so young, so fair, so innocent.but in time all younglings grow up. They call you Evenstar. Appropriate name. Star-eyed, night-haired, perfect picture of the evening." I smiled. "And the sun *will* rise in the morning. And I will be there to see it. So, goodnight, my Arwen.
"My evening star."
(A/N: ::blinks in shock:: Great good gods, that was a *sappy* ending. I can't believe I wrote that. ::sighs::)
Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings does not belong to me. JRR Tolkien has that happy pleasure. Had that happy pleasure. Anyway, the characters in this story do not belong to me. This is purely to please myself and those besides me who enjoy this sort of thing. I also do not own the song "Enchantment Passing Through." That honor goes to Elton John and Tim Rice. The wedding vows come from Dragons of Autumn Twilight. If some of the words don't fit, remember that these vows are *ancient.* When they were written, they fit, and elves are.well.set in their ways? Oh, btw, Anaiyah and Tyrennafaile are original characters. *Their* stories will be related later.
Author's Notes: This is an Elrond/Celebrian get-together, mainly from Elrond's point of view. If there are any complaints as to how this is done, ::coughcough, Elrond's relationship to Gil-Galad coughcough:: register them politely. Please. I got some slightly less-than-polite comments on my Galadriel/Celeborn fic, which is discontinued. As far as I know, this is an A/U. Enjoy!
Epilogue: Arwen
That evening, I sat alone with my daughters. The boys were off, remembering their mother in their own way. They were the ones who had found and rescued her. I never asked for that story, and they never told it. I have a feeling they only truly remembered it in nightmares.
None of us spoke for quite some time. After a few hours, Anaiyah said good night and went to bed. Arwen and I sat there alone for quite some time afterwards. She was sitting at my feet, her head resting on my knee.
"Papa?" she murmured.
"Yes, Arwen?"
"Are you leaving, too?" I blinked. That was the last question I had expected.
"No, Arwen. At least, not yet."
"Good." She sighed, and shifted her position slightly. "Papa?"
"Hmmm?"
"I love you."
"I know, Arwen." I paused. "You should go to bed, too," I chided gently.
She nodded and stood. She kissed my forehead and turned to go. "Good night, Papa," she said.
"Good night, Arwen."
She was about to leave, but she paused. "Papa, even when the night is darkest before dawn, you know the sun will rise in the morning." (A/N: This particular line was inspired by the second verse from "May it be:" May it be/the shadow's call/will fly away./May it be/you journey on/to light the day./*When the night is overcome/you may rise to find the sun./* Thought you'd want to know. *Pretty* song.) I blinked. Again, Arwen was surprising me. She sighed. "Good night, Papa."
"Good night, Arwen." I watched her as she left. She was a beautiful combination of my grandmother, Luthien Tinuviel, (A/N: Yes, I'm aware that Tinuviel is a step farther removed, but I don't care) and her mother. I smiled. She would make someone a lovely wife someday.. Suddenly, as if sparked by that thought, two memories hit me.
"And the trees, the wind, what do they tell you?"
Celebrian thought for a moment. "Well.many things."
"What are they telling you now?"
"They are telling me that my daughter will be the wife of a great king."
"The great king that you were told of will come, but you won't recognize him for what he is, and you will not like it. However, by the time you figure it out, it will be too late for both the king and his bride. Remember that."
"It's you, isn't it, Arwen," I murmured. "*You* are the one your mother and aunt prophesied. Strange, that I did not see it before.as to why it's not your sister.she's too much like me. You will be the wife of a great king.which means I have to make you ready to be a great queen. Faile was right, though. I am *not* going to like it. I suppose no father likes it when his daughter gets married, though. Valar. Married." I sighed. "I can't imagine it. You are so young, so fair, so innocent.but in time all younglings grow up. They call you Evenstar. Appropriate name. Star-eyed, night-haired, perfect picture of the evening." I smiled. "And the sun *will* rise in the morning. And I will be there to see it. So, goodnight, my Arwen.
"My evening star."
(A/N: ::blinks in shock:: Great good gods, that was a *sappy* ending. I can't believe I wrote that. ::sighs::)