Disclaimer: Any recognizable characters are property of Tolkien and I do
not own, well, anything, save the organization of words and phrases
Author's Note: I'm really not sure how Elves age, and though I am aware of how many years Arwen had been alive when her mother left for the Havens, I'm not sure exactly how many mortal years that's equal to. I'm shooting with fifteen, and I apologize if that's at all off (and for those of you who argue how young that would make her when she weds Aragorn, well, just look at Juliet Capulet)
***
"You are not being sent away, Arwen, nor have you done anything at all wrong. . ."
Yes, yes, Arwen thought, keep talking, surely you will comfort me for being sent away from my home at hardly a moment's notice, surely you will make me feel much about your betraying me, about my cowardly brothers being away at this time, not even here to defend me or say goodbye. Surely your words will console me. In her head these thoughts dripped with sarcasm, and in her head they remained.
". . .no one ever fully understands what the Lady Galadriel has in mind, but she does mean well. . ."
Mean well? Ha! I've met toads with better intentions! Arwen's bitter thoughts did not show on her face, for she had trained herself to be of stone, and show not her pain. She would not give anyone the pleasure of having made her cry.
". . .and your brothers and I still love you, but this is for the best. You are still always welcome in the valley of the Elves. . ."
When it's convenient for you, I'm sure, she thought, cursing the day she was born. The day she was born the Lady of the wood must have looked into her magical mirror and said, 'Well, here's a pretty child--' for she was not vain, but Arwen was often told she was a beauty, and that it was said at her birth that she was just that, a pretty child '--why not make her suffer? Yes, I do believe we shall uproot her from her home when she reaches the right age, but let's make sure she has only one parent by this time so her memories will go as well. . .'
"Oh, Arwen. Won't you at least look at me?"
Arwen looked up at her father, a cold, steel look in her eyes. She wanted him to feel knives in his heart, to know that she hated him and always would. She wanted him to cry, as he kept telling her she was free to. Lord Elrond did not cry, but he did cup his daughter's head in his hands, kiss her forehead, and tell her it was all for the best.
*****
Galadriel did not see herself as a cold person, nor did she see herself as being by any means cruel. However, the grimacing stares her granddaughter had been giving her for the past two weeks suggested that not everyone shared Galadriel's view of herself. Sullen Arwen had hardly spoken a word since leaving Imladris. Had she had things her way she would not have, and to her knowledge she had not, spoken a single word. However many late nights Galadriel had heard the girl crying out for her mother, suffering nightmares. Not that she had ever admitted to it in waking, of course.
Now as the trees of Lothlorien surrounded the two riders, a single tear fell from Arwen's eye, leaving a trail of moisture on her cheek and falling to the ground. It was not that it seemed an awful place, indeed the trees seemed unnaturally friendly and the foliage seemed to whisper a welcome. Still. . ."Lady," Arwen said, speaking of free will for the first time since she had left Rivendell, "I do not want to be here."
Galadriel sighed, turning her head to look at the Elfling. Angst she had expected, rebellion would have been natural, but this? It was not even rational; this was completely immature. Trying not to frown she said, "We do not always get what we want, Arwen, as you shall learn." It had always been Galadriel's suspicion that Elrond spoiled the girl, he never had known what to do with females. His courtship of Celebrian had indeed been something memorable. . .
Arwen had not meant to sound like that. She wanted her grandmother to think well of her, really she did, but she was still angry inside. Her anger was not contained to one person or being, but spread evenly amongst just about everyone she knew: Lord Elrond, who had simply let her leave Imladris, Galadriel, who had given her no choice, Elladan and Elrohir, for not even being there to say goodbye. More tears itched from behind her eyes. "This is not like that," she said, gritting her teeth. "Rivendell is my home. I have family there, my father and my brothers. Here I have nothing! No siblings, no friends, no memories...no memories of my mother. . ." She tried hard, really she did, but the thought of her mother, though she had left nearly four hundred years ago, still made her cry.
Galadriel looked at her granddaughter, then up into the woods. She had memories of Celebrian here, friends as much as a Ringbearer had friends, love as much as a Ringbearer loved. . .She was searching for something to tell Arwen to comfort her, perhaps some story of Celebrian's girlhood. "I wish I were home," Arwen sniveled, burning at how childish she was acting. Galadriel hadn't the heart to tell Arwen that this was her home now.
Author's Note: I'm really not sure how Elves age, and though I am aware of how many years Arwen had been alive when her mother left for the Havens, I'm not sure exactly how many mortal years that's equal to. I'm shooting with fifteen, and I apologize if that's at all off (and for those of you who argue how young that would make her when she weds Aragorn, well, just look at Juliet Capulet)
***
"You are not being sent away, Arwen, nor have you done anything at all wrong. . ."
Yes, yes, Arwen thought, keep talking, surely you will comfort me for being sent away from my home at hardly a moment's notice, surely you will make me feel much about your betraying me, about my cowardly brothers being away at this time, not even here to defend me or say goodbye. Surely your words will console me. In her head these thoughts dripped with sarcasm, and in her head they remained.
". . .no one ever fully understands what the Lady Galadriel has in mind, but she does mean well. . ."
Mean well? Ha! I've met toads with better intentions! Arwen's bitter thoughts did not show on her face, for she had trained herself to be of stone, and show not her pain. She would not give anyone the pleasure of having made her cry.
". . .and your brothers and I still love you, but this is for the best. You are still always welcome in the valley of the Elves. . ."
When it's convenient for you, I'm sure, she thought, cursing the day she was born. The day she was born the Lady of the wood must have looked into her magical mirror and said, 'Well, here's a pretty child--' for she was not vain, but Arwen was often told she was a beauty, and that it was said at her birth that she was just that, a pretty child '--why not make her suffer? Yes, I do believe we shall uproot her from her home when she reaches the right age, but let's make sure she has only one parent by this time so her memories will go as well. . .'
"Oh, Arwen. Won't you at least look at me?"
Arwen looked up at her father, a cold, steel look in her eyes. She wanted him to feel knives in his heart, to know that she hated him and always would. She wanted him to cry, as he kept telling her she was free to. Lord Elrond did not cry, but he did cup his daughter's head in his hands, kiss her forehead, and tell her it was all for the best.
*****
Galadriel did not see herself as a cold person, nor did she see herself as being by any means cruel. However, the grimacing stares her granddaughter had been giving her for the past two weeks suggested that not everyone shared Galadriel's view of herself. Sullen Arwen had hardly spoken a word since leaving Imladris. Had she had things her way she would not have, and to her knowledge she had not, spoken a single word. However many late nights Galadriel had heard the girl crying out for her mother, suffering nightmares. Not that she had ever admitted to it in waking, of course.
Now as the trees of Lothlorien surrounded the two riders, a single tear fell from Arwen's eye, leaving a trail of moisture on her cheek and falling to the ground. It was not that it seemed an awful place, indeed the trees seemed unnaturally friendly and the foliage seemed to whisper a welcome. Still. . ."Lady," Arwen said, speaking of free will for the first time since she had left Rivendell, "I do not want to be here."
Galadriel sighed, turning her head to look at the Elfling. Angst she had expected, rebellion would have been natural, but this? It was not even rational; this was completely immature. Trying not to frown she said, "We do not always get what we want, Arwen, as you shall learn." It had always been Galadriel's suspicion that Elrond spoiled the girl, he never had known what to do with females. His courtship of Celebrian had indeed been something memorable. . .
Arwen had not meant to sound like that. She wanted her grandmother to think well of her, really she did, but she was still angry inside. Her anger was not contained to one person or being, but spread evenly amongst just about everyone she knew: Lord Elrond, who had simply let her leave Imladris, Galadriel, who had given her no choice, Elladan and Elrohir, for not even being there to say goodbye. More tears itched from behind her eyes. "This is not like that," she said, gritting her teeth. "Rivendell is my home. I have family there, my father and my brothers. Here I have nothing! No siblings, no friends, no memories...no memories of my mother. . ." She tried hard, really she did, but the thought of her mother, though she had left nearly four hundred years ago, still made her cry.
Galadriel looked at her granddaughter, then up into the woods. She had memories of Celebrian here, friends as much as a Ringbearer had friends, love as much as a Ringbearer loved. . .She was searching for something to tell Arwen to comfort her, perhaps some story of Celebrian's girlhood. "I wish I were home," Arwen sniveled, burning at how childish she was acting. Galadriel hadn't the heart to tell Arwen that this was her home now.