Hello everyone! I'm adding to two chapters because I think these two
belong to together. Hope you enjoy and tell what you think! (
Chapter 7- Truths are spoken
At dawn the next morning.
Arwen sat up in bed and looked around the cozily appointed bedroom that Frodo had given them for their use during this stay and noticed Aragorn standing in his sleeping attire, or at least the bottoms of them, he very rarely wore the tops. He looked out of the round window perfectly still. She noticed the determined set of his shoulders, it was the stance he often held when pondering a task that he deemed difficult or troubling. She negotiated her way out of bed and walked over to where he stood to put an arm around him. She looked up at him as he drew her to him, "My love, what has you so pensive this morning?"
At first Aragorn did not answer, he simply held her tighter and then said, "You should not be up this early. You need your sleep."
Arwen said teasingly, "Come back to bed and then I will sleep! The babe grows restless and would be talk to be his father before he settles back into slumber."
Aragorn turned to her and said, "Are you and the babe quite well?" His eyes held an urgency that Arwen did not quite understand and a small flutter of panic flared quickly and then stilled itself.
She said, "We are well."
A small sigh of relief was sounded and it seemed like Aragorn was pondering some very weighty issues in his mind from the furrowed brow and pensive look on his face. He seemed to make some sort of internal decision and the panic within Arwen flared again. He looked at her, his face full of emotion. Arwen stood looking into his stormy eyes awaiting she knew not what.
"I know that we have never talked of this before, but what passed between you and your father the night before our wedding. I don't mean to pry," he said apologetically, "but I must know. I would know everything that has caused you pain. If I do not, then how else am I supposed to ease it for you." Arwen stood looking at him with a curious expression, one caught between confusion and compassion as she watched her beloved. Aragorn stumbled awkwardly though his explanation, "I would not have the silence grow between us again, it would pain me greatly and I cannot stand idly by as you slip from me daily." Aragorn stood and watched Arwen's expression change from one of confusion to one of understanding.
"Is that what this is about?' Arwen asked carefully. Aragorn nodded. She reached up to stroke Aragorn's pepper and salt dark hair gently. A pained expression crossed her face, "My heart, I love you more than I can ever say and love you even the more for trying to help me through this burden. But it is mine to face.alone. I must find my own way through."
"I must be allowed to do something for you, Guren! Please do not shut me out! I cannot bear it! Let me help you!"
"There is nothing you can do." With that Arwen shuttered her thoughts within her own breast, "Come back to bed, my love." Aragorn looked her, saw the fragility of her spirit and indomitable force of her will, then allowed her to lead him back their bed where he gently held her, spoon like, stroking her hair and whispering Elvin melodies into her ear to provide what comfort he could. Eventually she found sleep, but Aragorn was not so lucky. He had planned to leave today for Rivendell to speak with Elrond as Galadriel had suggested, but he felt that he could not take such a step without first consulting Arwen. That had been the point behind his asking about their last meeting. It was to be a way of leading into an explanation of why he was going to go to Rivendell. But somehow the conversation never took that turn. His heart was heavy as he felt cast adrift. She was everything to him and he was losing her. The mere thought was ripping his soul into shreds.
***
As dawn gave way to mid-morning, all was quiet at Bag End. Given the activities of the last few days it was not all surprising. The decision last night as the last revelers left the Party Field was that the clear away could indeed wait until at least afternoon. The most of the guests and permanent inhabitants of Bag End kept to their rooms and only the occasional shuffle from behind bedroom doors could be heard.
One however did stir from behind closed doors and ventured out into the dappled morning sunshine. Galadriel needed to get away and seek the morning to revel in the peace and quiet of the woods. She had found a low- slung tree branch that was crying out to be sat upon and there she whiled away the better part of an hour, humming softly songs that she had learned as a young elf about the singing of the earth and the quiet that existed before Time began. It was in this state that she was caught unawares by approaching footfalls.
Arwen, like her grandmother, was seeking solace in the trees of this strange but fair land. She needed to get away from Aragorn and his questioning gaze. She could not make him understand that it was not anything that he could help her with. She walked along soaking up the life force of the wood, when she suddenly stopped short seeing her grandmother sitting in the crook of a tree.
"Einnaneth! I'm sorry if I have disturbed you!"
Galadriel quickly said, "You are not disturbing me at all, Melldanya! In fact I am glad that you have happened by. It has indeed been a long time since we have spent any time together. Come and sit down." She motioned to a little green patch near the low tree branch where she had been sitting.
As Arwen settled down as best she could, Galadriel murmured, "It is so beautiful here, so young and alive!" her face turned to the warmth of the sun. She then looked at her granddaughter, who was looking pensive, and her heart went out to her. "You look sad, you are not happy with Aragorn?"
Arwen looked a bit shocked at the abruptness of the statement, but then thought Galadriel was nothing if not direct. "Yes, I mean No! I am happy with him!"
"Forgive my saying so, but you look anything but happy at this moment. What ails you, my child?" Galadriel knew all too well, but she needed Arwen to realise it for herself.
"I am happy!" Arwen insisted, attempting to hold the Lady's gaze, "I love Aragorn and I do not regret my choice," she stated in a low fervent voice suddenly full of conviction. "But I do have regrets." She admitted in a rather small voice.
"Have you told Aragorn of these regrets?"
"No! I cannot! It would burden him too much to know and I cannot do that to him." Arwen said in a rush tearing her gaze away from her grandmother. "Besides it is my problem and I must find a way through it, myself. I made this choice and I must find a way through to it," she said with a stubbornness that reminded Galadriel a great deal of her father.
Galadriel sighed, "Arwen, look at me. There are a few things that I must tell you." When she saw that her granddaughter was caught up her own thoughts, Galadriel's voice became stern and she commanded that Arwen faced her. Unwillingly the young woman looked up into the ageless blue of Galadriel's eyes. Galadriel disliked using such influence upon her beloved granddaughter, but at times it was necessary.
"I understand why you say you must work through this choice yourself, it is admirable but completely misguided and will do harm if you continue in this way. This path that you are choosing is plunging a knife through Aragorn's heart and soul. He loves you and every time you turn away from him, you drive it in just that much further." She paused to allow these words to settled in, "Let him into all of your heart, Arwen, allow him to feel your pain with you and offer what help he may. He needs this."
Arwen looked at her grandmother wide-eyed, she had been so busy wrapped up in her own pain and regrets that she had never stopped to think to of what this might be doing to Aragorn, at length she cried, "Oh, the Valar be merciful! What have I done?" She thought of this morning and what he had been obviously trying to do for her and tears came to her eyes. She remembered the pain she saw it his eyes when she told him there was nothing he could do and she remembered his next action, to hold her in his arms and sing her to sleep. Arwen choked back a sob and raising her child-laden body as quickly as she could, she exclaimed, "I must go to him, I must find him, now." She saw her past behaviour for the vanity it was, borne out of pride and arrogance. She bid her grandmother goodbye and went as quickly she could manage back to Bag End.
***
She entered the kitchen, which was still very quiet, save Poppy the maid who was stirring a newly made broth to be had for Teatime that day. "Excuse me, Poppy, but have you seen my husband?"
"Aye! My lady. He took off early this morning said he was going for a quick ride, but I noticed that his saddle bags were full." Fear slashed through Arwen. Surely the little maid was mistaken; he was indeed only out for a morning ride to clear his head.
"My lady?," said a voice from behind her. She turned to see Faramir, looking at her with an expression of regret in his gentle blue eyes. He turned his attention briefly to the bustling maid, "Poppy, would you mind giving us a moment or two. Thank you." The maid bobbed a small curtsey hobbit style and made her way to the door. He looked back to Arwen noticed that she was very still, staring intently at him. Faramir said as gently as he could, "He asked me to tell you that he's left but he will return and that he loves you very much. And he left you this as an assurance of his promise." He held out a silver-wrought ring of ancient artistry set with a green stone. She knew it as the Ring of Barahir and the ring that she given back to him on their wedding day to wear as the restored King of Gondor and Arnor. She knew that he would never be separated from this ring for very long and would return faithfully. She reached out a trembling hand to receive the ring, gazed upon it briefly and then hold it tight in her fist.
Faramir saw all the colour drain from Arwen's all ready pale face and was immediately at her side to help her into the nearest chair, "Where did he go, Faramir? Did he tell you?" a small yet dignified voice.
Faramir looked away, "No, my lady. He did not." There was an unnatural and uncharacteristic tenor in his voice that caused Arwen to doubt his words.
"Faramir, look at me." The Steward reluctantly turned his head back toward his queen, his eyes full of compassion and pain. "Faramir, he did tell you, didn't he?" The Steward remained silent; unwillingly to break his lord's confidence, but regretful that he was causing his lady pain. "But he asked you not to tell me." A look of chagrin crossed Faramir's face that she had guessed this much.
Arwen's mind whirled *Where could he have gone? She could never ask Faramir to break his confidence with Aragorn and she was not sure that he would, even for her. As she thought, the early morning conversation with Aragorn drifted into her head. With a flash she looked at her silent Steward and knew the only place his king could have gone. "Imladris, he has gone to see my father," she whispered. Faramir cast his gaze downward so to that she would not see the truth of her guessing in his eyes. Arwen put a comforting hand on his shoulder, "Ease your heart, my dear friend, you have broken no confidence."
Faramir did not say anything, but a certain tension left his body. In truth, he was glad she had guessed correctly, for even as Aragorn had spoken the word, he had not thought it right to keep such information from Arwen. But having been so bidden he could not reveal it or even willingly confirm Arwen's correct assumption. He was the king's to command and that oath was life to Faramir. He glanced back at Arwen. She was sitting stock still as if unsure of what this new information meant.
In truth she was unsure. She had come seeking her husband to apologise for her arrogance and her lack of trust in him, her heart breaking over the harm that she had wrought upon him with her own selfish actions. Now he had left without consulting her, but then she realized that he must have been trying to do just that early this morning when he had asked about what had gone on between her and Elrond on the day before their wedding. She thought back on that scene four years ago.
***
Four years earlier on Midsummer's eve.
Arwen had been told that Elrond was up in the ramparts and she had purposefully sought him. She needed to speak with him before her wedding on the morrow. She felt it most important that she make him understand why she was doing what she was doing.
"Daughter, why do you seek me?" Elrond spoke without turning around and even before she was halfway from the door that lead onto the ramparts. Arwen winced as she heard his voice, so full of pain and loss.
"Forgive me for disturbing you, ada. I just had to see you." *To make you understand why I'm doing what I am doing.*
Elrond turned, eyes flashing an anger conjured to obscure the intense pain that had settled in his eyes, "There now you have seen me! You can go away happy now!" he stormed.
"Ada! Will not you please listen!" Arwen said in an anguished low voice.
"To what! To the fact that you will marry Aragorn, whether I will it or no, and die in utter sadness after his life is spent. How can I listen to that! How can I be asked to accept that!" Elrond's legendary icy control of his emotions broke at that point and he poured out the pain of his heart. "My beloved daughter, the Evenstar of her people, choosing willing to extinguish that bright, shimmering light that is hers alone and deny the destiny of her people! Is that what you want me to listen to. Is that what you want me to accept!!"
Arwen at the end of this onslaught, crumbled onto the stone bench that ran along the length of the rampart and sobbed, "Gerich veleth nin, ada!!"
Elrond looked upon his sobbing daughter sitting upon the bench, his heart ached but yet he could not go to her and ease her suffering, I have given and given for the sake of Middle Earth only have the thing I most treasured taken from me, Elrond thought bitterly. He walked over and placed a hand on her shoulder, and said a voice strained with anguish and resignation, "I'm sorry that my displeasure falls so heavy upon your heart, but alas I cannot change, In this final thing I am immovable. Namarie! Melldanya!" With this he kissed the top of her head and quietly stole away, leaving his daughter to her tears.
***
"My Lady!" She heard Faramir's worried voice break into her thoughts, "My Lady! Are you quite well?" Arwen shook from her reverie to see the Steward of Gondor looking at her with utmost concern written on that kind, intelligent face. "You were just staring and I could not rouse you!"
She turned eyes filled with such infinite sadness upon Faramir that it broke his heart to behold them. She raised a hand to caress the young Steward's cheek, "He's goes upon a fool's errand, Faramir. He will find no welcome in Imladris! Only heartache," she said in a small faraway voice. She closed her eyes as if to blink away both memory and thought. She seemed rouse herself slightly saying, "I'm sorry that I caused you concern, Faramir. It was not my intention," concluded the Queen of Gondor with much dignity, "I find that I am tired and need to rest."
***
Earlier that morning.
Aragorn sat his horse through sheer instinct and years of long practice, his mind and heart elsewhere, seized by a despair, the likes of which he had never known. He had only one thought since Arwen fell asleep in his arms earlier. He must get to Rivendell and he must make Elrond see sense and finally give his acceptance of their marriage. To Aragorn's mind it was now the only thing that would stop Arwen from slipping away from him. He would succeed in this. He must. He was clear enough in mind earlier to find Faramir and explain what little he could to his faithful Steward and to leave his ring as token of return. Faramir, at first insisted on going with him, claiming he was in no fit state to be traveling alone. Aragorn mused ruefully, Faramir was right. He was in no fit state, but that could not be helped but by this action that he took now, alone. He finally impressed that upon the younger man but not without great effort. His mouth turned up one corner at the thought.
Faintly in the distance, he thought he heard approaching horses, elven by their sounds, coming from the direction of Hobbiton. He pulled up the trot that Hasufel had been holding and turned peering, into the distant miles he had left behind him. He saw two figures kicking up dust and coming towards him quickly. He sensed more than saw who it was as the distance between them collapsed.
"Mae Govannen! Mindoreg! You left without saying good-bye!" his dark- haired elven foster brother, Elladan said with some forced lightness.
"I've not left!" Aragorn stated somewhat aggrieved at having his solitude disrupted.
"Oh, you hear that, 'Roh, he's not left."
"Could have fooled me. I did not realise that this was the sitting room at Bag End?" said Elladan's twin allowing his horse to trace a circle around the other two horses.
"What I mean is that I'm going to come back, but there is something that I need to take care of first." Aragorn stated somewhat feebly. He loved these two elves, they had always been there for him while he was growing up, supporting him, teaching him, teasing him. He had been such a serious child and these two were always there to provide love and light and much laughter in his life. He had always been so lonely when they went away on patrol with the Rangers of the north and he always counted the days until they would return to from missions. Those welcome home days had always been filled with much joy for the young foster son of Lord Elrond.
"Something you need to take care of first! Now what might that be! Hmmmm! Forgot to lock the gates of the Citadel before you left?" Elladan looked pointedly at Aragorn who continued to glare at him. Elladan sobered up, "We'll not let you face our father alone. Or at least," he amended, "we'll not let you make the journey by yourself. Mithreneg nin!" he ended gently.
Aragorn noted the use of the nickname that Elladan had coined when Aragorn was a child. It meant "My little grey one" Elladan had not called him that in years beyond count, but curiously it did not rankled as one might think it would. It felt comforting and loving. "How do you know where I'm bound?" Aragorn could not conceive of Faramir breaking a confidence.
"Well, we are elves you know. We can sense these things!" Elladan stated grandly.
"And we overheard you talking to Faramir," Elrohir admitted and had the decency to look a little shamefaced. "Let us stay with you. We'd like to here with you." An unabashed look of brotherly love and longing shone through his eyes.
Aragorn was touched more than he'd care to admit and it meant a lot to him that Arwen's brothers, his foster brothers cared and obviously approved of Arwen's decision, even if they possibly did not understand it. They both sat on their horses watching and waiting for his decision. He could tell by the way they held themselves that they desperately wanted to come with him. He sighed, "I suppose that I should be glad of some company on this trip. I can only hope that your abilities to cook have improved somewhat, Ell'"
The twins visibly relaxed, and Elrohir chimed up, "Alas, they have not! Shame really!" a big smile cracking his face as Elladan shot him a glare. Aragorn laughed and then sobered putting his hand on his heart bowing his head, "Hannon le, muindyr nin!" They both simply smiled and the three continued along the Road together.
***
Arwen slipped through the mists of sleep and found herself on the ramparts of Minas Tirith yet again, sitting there sobbing after her father's departure. Boundless sorrow filled her, creating within a rip in her soul's vibrant fabric; the ends fraying. She tried to knit them together but each strand she touched disintegrated into nothing, leaving a cloying blackness in its place. She cried out, "Ada! Aragorn! Don't leave me!" But both looked at her sorrowfully and turn their backs and striding into the shadow. It is only when a hand touched her shoulder and she opened her eyes and she saw Galadriel bending over her, wiping her brow that she realised she had shouted the words aloud, reliving the dream she had had every night since Aragorn had left. She looked at her beloved Einnaneth and shame along with tears came to her eyes. Galadriel hugged her and dried her eyes. Finally, as Galadriel rocked her gently, softly singing, Arwen found sleep again, this time a dreamless one.
***
A few days later.
Frodo sat by the kitchen table smoking on his pipe and listening the conversation around him. He thought that they would all do well to leave off their talking and decide if any course of action was possible, because all this talking was getting them exactly nowhere. It was understandable that they be concerned about Arwen, but no amount of talking was going to change the fact that Arwen was wasting away and rebuffed all attempts to ease her out of her sorrows. She had not eaten in days and had spoken very little since Faramir informed her that Aragorn had gone. Her nights had been disturbed; she laid tossing and turning seemingly in the thrall of dreams that would not allow her rest.
Frodo knew something of what she suffered. Perhaps of all that now inhabited Bag End he knew especially what it was like to feel as if a part of you is missing. A part that you fear you will never get back. Others tried to be helpful. They tried to be compassionate but there was no way they could ever understand. He himself felt that something inside him had died and that there was no hope of it ever growing again.
He got up and tapped his pipe, felt Sam's eyes upon him, as they quite often were these days. He thought, "Sam, dear Sam. I wish you could quit worrying about me. I must find my own way through this." He left the room and went down the hall feeling rather than seeing his dear friend follow him with his eyes. He stopped in front of the second bedroom that was Aragorn and Arwen's for the duration of their stay. He gently knocked and heard a rustle of skirts in answer to his gentle inquiry. He turned the doorknob and pushed gently. Inside Arwen stood at the round window, hugging herself and staring sightlessly at the row of trees across the path. He came behind Arwen, "How are you, My Lady?" He did not receive a reply but he had not really expected one. He stepped along side the Elven Queen of Gondor and said, "It's all right, you know. To feel as you do. It is so hard to be happy. To feel happiness when so much has gone before. The others don't understand, but I do."
Arwen turned to him and looked silently at Frodo. He beheld eyes that revealed a soul tearing itself apart. One part seemed to say, "Give in, the pain is unendurable and you have only hurt those you love with your actions. Best to give up now and allow them the chance to learn to live without you." The other part seemed to urging, "Fight this! Stay with us, learn to live with what you've chosen and you will again discover how to find joy in all things." Frodo stared into her troubled blue eyes and saw a reflection of his own sorrows. Suffering and resignation and a certain incredulity lay in Arwen's gaze, "Choose to accept what you have done or not, but remember Aragorn would be lost without you."
At this Arwen breathed a heavy sigh, breaking Frodo's concerned gaze, "I would be lost without him, and yet I have treated him so callously! I have spurned his attempts comfort me, thinking myself so much wiser than he. And now he has gone to my father and find only hurt and more anguish." She blinked with unseeing eyes. "My father has forsaken me for what I have done. He will find no welcome." She concluded in a sad, far away voice. She turned her eyes back to Frodo and he was startled to see how bewildered and lost she looked. It seemed like she was seeing a sight reserved only for her eyes. It frightened him.
He sat her down upon the bed and then firmly said, "My lady! You have so much to live for. Think of your child! He will need you. And you are surrounded by those who love you. You should accept help and kindness when it's offered." Arwen blinked slowly at him and her eyes seemed to begin seeing again. She gave him a sad little smile, which seemed to say "thank you" and at length she kissed him on the forehead. "You counsel well," she paused and then continued, "You should heed your own advice, my dear friend."
Frodo immediately looked down and away saying ruefully, "Isn't it funny, that advice which you can give so clearly for a friend is advice that you can never seem to take yourself." He sighed and looked up. Arwen sat there smiling, grief etched in her face and a sorrow in her eyes that he found painful to behold, "Dear Frodo. Shall we venture forth together to both share in the advice that you have given?" She said in a voice that signaled a resignation to begin again the battle against the soft, enveloping shadow that almost succeeded in silently slipping over her.
"Yes, My lady. I think we should."
Sam was the first to see them enter into the kitchen. "Mr. Frodo! My Lady! Are you well?" Frodo stifled a sigh and said, "Of course, Sam. There is no need to fret yourself. My Lady and I were just talking that is all."
Faramir, who had been wracked with guilt for causing Arwen this much torment, came forward immediately to assist his Queen into a chair. Arwen also stifled a sigh, "My Lord Steward, I am not made of porcelain, I will not break," At least not yet anyway, Arwen sighed.
Faramir, looking somewhat abashed, said "Of course, my Lady! I did not mean to imply by my actions that." His voice trailed off. He saw that the pale cast of her skin was becoming increasingly transparent. It horrified him.
Arwen smiled at the kneeling man and put a hand gently on one shoulder, "Forgive me, Faramir. I know that you did not."
Rosie had been listening to these two exchanges very carefully, protective as a mother hen over the brood that had come to nestle in her house over the past week. She thought over the motley collection of Elves and Hobbits and Men that had taken up residence in Bag End and pondered the bonds of friendship, love and loyalty that bound them and she only hoped it could continue to keep them all together as her eye fell on Arwen and then Frodo and Sam.
***
Two weeks later.
The Lord of Rivendell sat in his study, thoughtful. He had been so ever since the servant had told him where his sons had gone. At first he could not believe that they had openly defied him and his anger raged vowing to never allow them passage into Rivendell, again. Let them live in Lorien if they find Galadriel's presence that much more pleasing than mine, he had thought. That anger had now gone and he was wondering how he had come to this pass. He had lost his daughter and now he felt as if he were on the verge of losing his sons if only in spirit. He felt old. He had never felt quite so old as he did now. The world was passing him by and he no longer understood anything. He had given so much and had had even more taken away from him. He wanted to talk to Arwen, he wanted so much to reach out to her, but he didn't know how to anymore. She was close, he felt it. Even if Galadriel had not informed him about her presence in the Shire he still would have felt it. Her light was still shining, though dimmer than it had ever been. This deeply troubled him.
A page knocked on the door of his study, he called out, "Did not I request that I not be disturbed, can you not follow the simplest of instructions!" he bellowed his head bowed looking down at his parchment.
"You always said I had trouble in that regard." said a quiet voice that stilled Elrond's very soul. He looked up slowly from the parchment he has been trying to study and saw his erstwhile foster son, in travel-stained clothes and muddy boots, on one knee, head bowed. Estel. A jumble of conflicting emotions ran through Elrond. A flash of fond remembrance, love, betrayal, pride, disappointment, anger and hope all warred for supremacy within the Noldorin Lord's breast. He finally settled upon that which had served him, if not well, then at least functionally over the last few years. Cold formality.
"Rise, Elessar, you need never bow to me. It is not appropriate." Elrond saw a rod of steel go through Aragorn's back as he rose from the obsequence he had made to his foster-father, the only father he had ever truly known. Although he bore the patronymic, he had never known Arathorn, who had died when Aragorn was only two. Elrond raised him, loved him even, here in Imladris.
"Forgive the inappropriateness of such an action, I did not mean to cause offence." Grey eyes full of restrained emotion looked upon Elrond's own pale blue ones as a tightly controlled voice spoke the words.
You've taken my daughter, is that not offence enough! And now her light grows dim! came the thought unbidden into Elrond's mind. He blinked and drew breath, desperately trying to calm his raging emotions, "What would you have with me? Is there some issue that needs my attention." he said politely if a bit cynically.
Aragorn caught the cynicism and inwardly winced, his foster father had changed as Elladan had said he had. He steeled himself and said, "Your daughter needs you, sir. Please come and see her."
"Sir? So polite, Elessar. But you are mistaken," Elrond heard himself say, "I have no daughter. I did once, but no more." What am I saying? Why am I saying it. Elrond thought frantically. He glanced at Aragorn who looked like he had just been slapped in the face.
Shocked and stunned, Aragorn was trying desperately to hold on to a composure that was slipping away quicker than he might like to admit. He had expected that this was never going to be an easy task, but he was willing to endure anything if it could bring Arwen back to him fully. Aragorn blinked, desperately trying to think of some argument that could be made that would break through that icy veneer that Elrond had constructed around himself. Arwen's future happiness, her very life depended on it. His thoughts were fracted, jagged with hurt and fear, but he must try.
"Please, sir, she needs you. Whatever you may think of me and what I have done please do not punish your daughter any further than you have. Hate me as you will, but go to your daughter. She loves you and needs you." Aragorn's voice was filled with pain and pleading. Steadily he looked at his foster father awaiting his pronouncement.
"Again I say to you, Elessar." Elrond responded tonelessly, "I have no daughter." He finished to the shock of his own ears. Why can I not reach out!? She needs me.
Aragorn's composure, upon hearing this latest denial, broke utterly. "Damn you, Sir! You condemn you own daughter to death with these words! What do you want from me? I will do anything. Do you want me to beg? I will." At this he dropped to his both knees at Elrond's side, "I am sorry for loving your daughter and taking her away from you, sir! Only please come to her. Her light grows dimmer all the time, I cannot stop it! Please, Sir! Come to her! I'm begging you." Aragorn bowed his head and sobbed, "Hate me, spend your ire upon me if that is what you will, but do not punish her any more!" The words sounded as if they were ripped from Aragorn's very soul.
Elrond looked at the sobbing, shaking man at his knee and suddenly nothing else seemed important, his reasons for anger, his feelings of betrayal mattered little when presented with such abject suffering from such a proud man as he knew Aragorn to be. He felt the icy bands which had constricted his heart for too long melt away in his desire to comfort his foster son and give him what he wanted.
Aragorn kneeled there sobbing for what seemed an eternity of anguish, hopeless that he had made any impact at all upon the Lord of Rivendell, his foster father, when he felt a hand upon his shoulder. Aragorn stiffened and a small ember of hope re-kindled itself in his heart. "Estel," came a voice full of regret and uncertainty, "my son. Look at me." Aragorn raised gray eyes so full of supplication and anguish that it broke Elrond's heart anew. At long last Elrond said the words that he had long been unable to voice. "I forgive you and Arwen. If you can forgive a father his own foolishness? I will go to her and we will ride within the hour."
Aragorn could hardly hear, for the loud rush of blood within his ears, but he looked upon his foster father, gasping and gulping for breath trying desperately to tame the wild beating of his heart, he could only stare his thanks for his beloved's deliverance. Elrond looked concernedly at his foster son, "Estel, did you hear me? Are you quite well."
Aragorn had at last quelled the beat of his heart and the rush of blood in his ears, "Yes, sir. I am now. Thank you." Elrond stood and help him off of his knees and watched as Aragorn drew himself up to his full height and then inclined his head with his hand on his heart, "Hannon le! Hir nin! he said, eyes full of emotion.
***********
Gerich veleth nin, ada! = you have my love, papa! (taken from the script of TTT)
Hannon le! Hir nin! = Thank you! My lord!
***********
Chapter 7- Truths are spoken
At dawn the next morning.
Arwen sat up in bed and looked around the cozily appointed bedroom that Frodo had given them for their use during this stay and noticed Aragorn standing in his sleeping attire, or at least the bottoms of them, he very rarely wore the tops. He looked out of the round window perfectly still. She noticed the determined set of his shoulders, it was the stance he often held when pondering a task that he deemed difficult or troubling. She negotiated her way out of bed and walked over to where he stood to put an arm around him. She looked up at him as he drew her to him, "My love, what has you so pensive this morning?"
At first Aragorn did not answer, he simply held her tighter and then said, "You should not be up this early. You need your sleep."
Arwen said teasingly, "Come back to bed and then I will sleep! The babe grows restless and would be talk to be his father before he settles back into slumber."
Aragorn turned to her and said, "Are you and the babe quite well?" His eyes held an urgency that Arwen did not quite understand and a small flutter of panic flared quickly and then stilled itself.
She said, "We are well."
A small sigh of relief was sounded and it seemed like Aragorn was pondering some very weighty issues in his mind from the furrowed brow and pensive look on his face. He seemed to make some sort of internal decision and the panic within Arwen flared again. He looked at her, his face full of emotion. Arwen stood looking into his stormy eyes awaiting she knew not what.
"I know that we have never talked of this before, but what passed between you and your father the night before our wedding. I don't mean to pry," he said apologetically, "but I must know. I would know everything that has caused you pain. If I do not, then how else am I supposed to ease it for you." Arwen stood looking at him with a curious expression, one caught between confusion and compassion as she watched her beloved. Aragorn stumbled awkwardly though his explanation, "I would not have the silence grow between us again, it would pain me greatly and I cannot stand idly by as you slip from me daily." Aragorn stood and watched Arwen's expression change from one of confusion to one of understanding.
"Is that what this is about?' Arwen asked carefully. Aragorn nodded. She reached up to stroke Aragorn's pepper and salt dark hair gently. A pained expression crossed her face, "My heart, I love you more than I can ever say and love you even the more for trying to help me through this burden. But it is mine to face.alone. I must find my own way through."
"I must be allowed to do something for you, Guren! Please do not shut me out! I cannot bear it! Let me help you!"
"There is nothing you can do." With that Arwen shuttered her thoughts within her own breast, "Come back to bed, my love." Aragorn looked her, saw the fragility of her spirit and indomitable force of her will, then allowed her to lead him back their bed where he gently held her, spoon like, stroking her hair and whispering Elvin melodies into her ear to provide what comfort he could. Eventually she found sleep, but Aragorn was not so lucky. He had planned to leave today for Rivendell to speak with Elrond as Galadriel had suggested, but he felt that he could not take such a step without first consulting Arwen. That had been the point behind his asking about their last meeting. It was to be a way of leading into an explanation of why he was going to go to Rivendell. But somehow the conversation never took that turn. His heart was heavy as he felt cast adrift. She was everything to him and he was losing her. The mere thought was ripping his soul into shreds.
***
As dawn gave way to mid-morning, all was quiet at Bag End. Given the activities of the last few days it was not all surprising. The decision last night as the last revelers left the Party Field was that the clear away could indeed wait until at least afternoon. The most of the guests and permanent inhabitants of Bag End kept to their rooms and only the occasional shuffle from behind bedroom doors could be heard.
One however did stir from behind closed doors and ventured out into the dappled morning sunshine. Galadriel needed to get away and seek the morning to revel in the peace and quiet of the woods. She had found a low- slung tree branch that was crying out to be sat upon and there she whiled away the better part of an hour, humming softly songs that she had learned as a young elf about the singing of the earth and the quiet that existed before Time began. It was in this state that she was caught unawares by approaching footfalls.
Arwen, like her grandmother, was seeking solace in the trees of this strange but fair land. She needed to get away from Aragorn and his questioning gaze. She could not make him understand that it was not anything that he could help her with. She walked along soaking up the life force of the wood, when she suddenly stopped short seeing her grandmother sitting in the crook of a tree.
"Einnaneth! I'm sorry if I have disturbed you!"
Galadriel quickly said, "You are not disturbing me at all, Melldanya! In fact I am glad that you have happened by. It has indeed been a long time since we have spent any time together. Come and sit down." She motioned to a little green patch near the low tree branch where she had been sitting.
As Arwen settled down as best she could, Galadriel murmured, "It is so beautiful here, so young and alive!" her face turned to the warmth of the sun. She then looked at her granddaughter, who was looking pensive, and her heart went out to her. "You look sad, you are not happy with Aragorn?"
Arwen looked a bit shocked at the abruptness of the statement, but then thought Galadriel was nothing if not direct. "Yes, I mean No! I am happy with him!"
"Forgive my saying so, but you look anything but happy at this moment. What ails you, my child?" Galadriel knew all too well, but she needed Arwen to realise it for herself.
"I am happy!" Arwen insisted, attempting to hold the Lady's gaze, "I love Aragorn and I do not regret my choice," she stated in a low fervent voice suddenly full of conviction. "But I do have regrets." She admitted in a rather small voice.
"Have you told Aragorn of these regrets?"
"No! I cannot! It would burden him too much to know and I cannot do that to him." Arwen said in a rush tearing her gaze away from her grandmother. "Besides it is my problem and I must find a way through it, myself. I made this choice and I must find a way through to it," she said with a stubbornness that reminded Galadriel a great deal of her father.
Galadriel sighed, "Arwen, look at me. There are a few things that I must tell you." When she saw that her granddaughter was caught up her own thoughts, Galadriel's voice became stern and she commanded that Arwen faced her. Unwillingly the young woman looked up into the ageless blue of Galadriel's eyes. Galadriel disliked using such influence upon her beloved granddaughter, but at times it was necessary.
"I understand why you say you must work through this choice yourself, it is admirable but completely misguided and will do harm if you continue in this way. This path that you are choosing is plunging a knife through Aragorn's heart and soul. He loves you and every time you turn away from him, you drive it in just that much further." She paused to allow these words to settled in, "Let him into all of your heart, Arwen, allow him to feel your pain with you and offer what help he may. He needs this."
Arwen looked at her grandmother wide-eyed, she had been so busy wrapped up in her own pain and regrets that she had never stopped to think to of what this might be doing to Aragorn, at length she cried, "Oh, the Valar be merciful! What have I done?" She thought of this morning and what he had been obviously trying to do for her and tears came to her eyes. She remembered the pain she saw it his eyes when she told him there was nothing he could do and she remembered his next action, to hold her in his arms and sing her to sleep. Arwen choked back a sob and raising her child-laden body as quickly as she could, she exclaimed, "I must go to him, I must find him, now." She saw her past behaviour for the vanity it was, borne out of pride and arrogance. She bid her grandmother goodbye and went as quickly she could manage back to Bag End.
***
She entered the kitchen, which was still very quiet, save Poppy the maid who was stirring a newly made broth to be had for Teatime that day. "Excuse me, Poppy, but have you seen my husband?"
"Aye! My lady. He took off early this morning said he was going for a quick ride, but I noticed that his saddle bags were full." Fear slashed through Arwen. Surely the little maid was mistaken; he was indeed only out for a morning ride to clear his head.
"My lady?," said a voice from behind her. She turned to see Faramir, looking at her with an expression of regret in his gentle blue eyes. He turned his attention briefly to the bustling maid, "Poppy, would you mind giving us a moment or two. Thank you." The maid bobbed a small curtsey hobbit style and made her way to the door. He looked back to Arwen noticed that she was very still, staring intently at him. Faramir said as gently as he could, "He asked me to tell you that he's left but he will return and that he loves you very much. And he left you this as an assurance of his promise." He held out a silver-wrought ring of ancient artistry set with a green stone. She knew it as the Ring of Barahir and the ring that she given back to him on their wedding day to wear as the restored King of Gondor and Arnor. She knew that he would never be separated from this ring for very long and would return faithfully. She reached out a trembling hand to receive the ring, gazed upon it briefly and then hold it tight in her fist.
Faramir saw all the colour drain from Arwen's all ready pale face and was immediately at her side to help her into the nearest chair, "Where did he go, Faramir? Did he tell you?" a small yet dignified voice.
Faramir looked away, "No, my lady. He did not." There was an unnatural and uncharacteristic tenor in his voice that caused Arwen to doubt his words.
"Faramir, look at me." The Steward reluctantly turned his head back toward his queen, his eyes full of compassion and pain. "Faramir, he did tell you, didn't he?" The Steward remained silent; unwillingly to break his lord's confidence, but regretful that he was causing his lady pain. "But he asked you not to tell me." A look of chagrin crossed Faramir's face that she had guessed this much.
Arwen's mind whirled *Where could he have gone? She could never ask Faramir to break his confidence with Aragorn and she was not sure that he would, even for her. As she thought, the early morning conversation with Aragorn drifted into her head. With a flash she looked at her silent Steward and knew the only place his king could have gone. "Imladris, he has gone to see my father," she whispered. Faramir cast his gaze downward so to that she would not see the truth of her guessing in his eyes. Arwen put a comforting hand on his shoulder, "Ease your heart, my dear friend, you have broken no confidence."
Faramir did not say anything, but a certain tension left his body. In truth, he was glad she had guessed correctly, for even as Aragorn had spoken the word, he had not thought it right to keep such information from Arwen. But having been so bidden he could not reveal it or even willingly confirm Arwen's correct assumption. He was the king's to command and that oath was life to Faramir. He glanced back at Arwen. She was sitting stock still as if unsure of what this new information meant.
In truth she was unsure. She had come seeking her husband to apologise for her arrogance and her lack of trust in him, her heart breaking over the harm that she had wrought upon him with her own selfish actions. Now he had left without consulting her, but then she realized that he must have been trying to do just that early this morning when he had asked about what had gone on between her and Elrond on the day before their wedding. She thought back on that scene four years ago.
***
Four years earlier on Midsummer's eve.
Arwen had been told that Elrond was up in the ramparts and she had purposefully sought him. She needed to speak with him before her wedding on the morrow. She felt it most important that she make him understand why she was doing what she was doing.
"Daughter, why do you seek me?" Elrond spoke without turning around and even before she was halfway from the door that lead onto the ramparts. Arwen winced as she heard his voice, so full of pain and loss.
"Forgive me for disturbing you, ada. I just had to see you." *To make you understand why I'm doing what I am doing.*
Elrond turned, eyes flashing an anger conjured to obscure the intense pain that had settled in his eyes, "There now you have seen me! You can go away happy now!" he stormed.
"Ada! Will not you please listen!" Arwen said in an anguished low voice.
"To what! To the fact that you will marry Aragorn, whether I will it or no, and die in utter sadness after his life is spent. How can I listen to that! How can I be asked to accept that!" Elrond's legendary icy control of his emotions broke at that point and he poured out the pain of his heart. "My beloved daughter, the Evenstar of her people, choosing willing to extinguish that bright, shimmering light that is hers alone and deny the destiny of her people! Is that what you want me to listen to. Is that what you want me to accept!!"
Arwen at the end of this onslaught, crumbled onto the stone bench that ran along the length of the rampart and sobbed, "Gerich veleth nin, ada!!"
Elrond looked upon his sobbing daughter sitting upon the bench, his heart ached but yet he could not go to her and ease her suffering, I have given and given for the sake of Middle Earth only have the thing I most treasured taken from me, Elrond thought bitterly. He walked over and placed a hand on her shoulder, and said a voice strained with anguish and resignation, "I'm sorry that my displeasure falls so heavy upon your heart, but alas I cannot change, In this final thing I am immovable. Namarie! Melldanya!" With this he kissed the top of her head and quietly stole away, leaving his daughter to her tears.
***
"My Lady!" She heard Faramir's worried voice break into her thoughts, "My Lady! Are you quite well?" Arwen shook from her reverie to see the Steward of Gondor looking at her with utmost concern written on that kind, intelligent face. "You were just staring and I could not rouse you!"
She turned eyes filled with such infinite sadness upon Faramir that it broke his heart to behold them. She raised a hand to caress the young Steward's cheek, "He's goes upon a fool's errand, Faramir. He will find no welcome in Imladris! Only heartache," she said in a small faraway voice. She closed her eyes as if to blink away both memory and thought. She seemed rouse herself slightly saying, "I'm sorry that I caused you concern, Faramir. It was not my intention," concluded the Queen of Gondor with much dignity, "I find that I am tired and need to rest."
***
Earlier that morning.
Aragorn sat his horse through sheer instinct and years of long practice, his mind and heart elsewhere, seized by a despair, the likes of which he had never known. He had only one thought since Arwen fell asleep in his arms earlier. He must get to Rivendell and he must make Elrond see sense and finally give his acceptance of their marriage. To Aragorn's mind it was now the only thing that would stop Arwen from slipping away from him. He would succeed in this. He must. He was clear enough in mind earlier to find Faramir and explain what little he could to his faithful Steward and to leave his ring as token of return. Faramir, at first insisted on going with him, claiming he was in no fit state to be traveling alone. Aragorn mused ruefully, Faramir was right. He was in no fit state, but that could not be helped but by this action that he took now, alone. He finally impressed that upon the younger man but not without great effort. His mouth turned up one corner at the thought.
Faintly in the distance, he thought he heard approaching horses, elven by their sounds, coming from the direction of Hobbiton. He pulled up the trot that Hasufel had been holding and turned peering, into the distant miles he had left behind him. He saw two figures kicking up dust and coming towards him quickly. He sensed more than saw who it was as the distance between them collapsed.
"Mae Govannen! Mindoreg! You left without saying good-bye!" his dark- haired elven foster brother, Elladan said with some forced lightness.
"I've not left!" Aragorn stated somewhat aggrieved at having his solitude disrupted.
"Oh, you hear that, 'Roh, he's not left."
"Could have fooled me. I did not realise that this was the sitting room at Bag End?" said Elladan's twin allowing his horse to trace a circle around the other two horses.
"What I mean is that I'm going to come back, but there is something that I need to take care of first." Aragorn stated somewhat feebly. He loved these two elves, they had always been there for him while he was growing up, supporting him, teaching him, teasing him. He had been such a serious child and these two were always there to provide love and light and much laughter in his life. He had always been so lonely when they went away on patrol with the Rangers of the north and he always counted the days until they would return to from missions. Those welcome home days had always been filled with much joy for the young foster son of Lord Elrond.
"Something you need to take care of first! Now what might that be! Hmmmm! Forgot to lock the gates of the Citadel before you left?" Elladan looked pointedly at Aragorn who continued to glare at him. Elladan sobered up, "We'll not let you face our father alone. Or at least," he amended, "we'll not let you make the journey by yourself. Mithreneg nin!" he ended gently.
Aragorn noted the use of the nickname that Elladan had coined when Aragorn was a child. It meant "My little grey one" Elladan had not called him that in years beyond count, but curiously it did not rankled as one might think it would. It felt comforting and loving. "How do you know where I'm bound?" Aragorn could not conceive of Faramir breaking a confidence.
"Well, we are elves you know. We can sense these things!" Elladan stated grandly.
"And we overheard you talking to Faramir," Elrohir admitted and had the decency to look a little shamefaced. "Let us stay with you. We'd like to here with you." An unabashed look of brotherly love and longing shone through his eyes.
Aragorn was touched more than he'd care to admit and it meant a lot to him that Arwen's brothers, his foster brothers cared and obviously approved of Arwen's decision, even if they possibly did not understand it. They both sat on their horses watching and waiting for his decision. He could tell by the way they held themselves that they desperately wanted to come with him. He sighed, "I suppose that I should be glad of some company on this trip. I can only hope that your abilities to cook have improved somewhat, Ell'"
The twins visibly relaxed, and Elrohir chimed up, "Alas, they have not! Shame really!" a big smile cracking his face as Elladan shot him a glare. Aragorn laughed and then sobered putting his hand on his heart bowing his head, "Hannon le, muindyr nin!" They both simply smiled and the three continued along the Road together.
***
Arwen slipped through the mists of sleep and found herself on the ramparts of Minas Tirith yet again, sitting there sobbing after her father's departure. Boundless sorrow filled her, creating within a rip in her soul's vibrant fabric; the ends fraying. She tried to knit them together but each strand she touched disintegrated into nothing, leaving a cloying blackness in its place. She cried out, "Ada! Aragorn! Don't leave me!" But both looked at her sorrowfully and turn their backs and striding into the shadow. It is only when a hand touched her shoulder and she opened her eyes and she saw Galadriel bending over her, wiping her brow that she realised she had shouted the words aloud, reliving the dream she had had every night since Aragorn had left. She looked at her beloved Einnaneth and shame along with tears came to her eyes. Galadriel hugged her and dried her eyes. Finally, as Galadriel rocked her gently, softly singing, Arwen found sleep again, this time a dreamless one.
***
A few days later.
Frodo sat by the kitchen table smoking on his pipe and listening the conversation around him. He thought that they would all do well to leave off their talking and decide if any course of action was possible, because all this talking was getting them exactly nowhere. It was understandable that they be concerned about Arwen, but no amount of talking was going to change the fact that Arwen was wasting away and rebuffed all attempts to ease her out of her sorrows. She had not eaten in days and had spoken very little since Faramir informed her that Aragorn had gone. Her nights had been disturbed; she laid tossing and turning seemingly in the thrall of dreams that would not allow her rest.
Frodo knew something of what she suffered. Perhaps of all that now inhabited Bag End he knew especially what it was like to feel as if a part of you is missing. A part that you fear you will never get back. Others tried to be helpful. They tried to be compassionate but there was no way they could ever understand. He himself felt that something inside him had died and that there was no hope of it ever growing again.
He got up and tapped his pipe, felt Sam's eyes upon him, as they quite often were these days. He thought, "Sam, dear Sam. I wish you could quit worrying about me. I must find my own way through this." He left the room and went down the hall feeling rather than seeing his dear friend follow him with his eyes. He stopped in front of the second bedroom that was Aragorn and Arwen's for the duration of their stay. He gently knocked and heard a rustle of skirts in answer to his gentle inquiry. He turned the doorknob and pushed gently. Inside Arwen stood at the round window, hugging herself and staring sightlessly at the row of trees across the path. He came behind Arwen, "How are you, My Lady?" He did not receive a reply but he had not really expected one. He stepped along side the Elven Queen of Gondor and said, "It's all right, you know. To feel as you do. It is so hard to be happy. To feel happiness when so much has gone before. The others don't understand, but I do."
Arwen turned to him and looked silently at Frodo. He beheld eyes that revealed a soul tearing itself apart. One part seemed to say, "Give in, the pain is unendurable and you have only hurt those you love with your actions. Best to give up now and allow them the chance to learn to live without you." The other part seemed to urging, "Fight this! Stay with us, learn to live with what you've chosen and you will again discover how to find joy in all things." Frodo stared into her troubled blue eyes and saw a reflection of his own sorrows. Suffering and resignation and a certain incredulity lay in Arwen's gaze, "Choose to accept what you have done or not, but remember Aragorn would be lost without you."
At this Arwen breathed a heavy sigh, breaking Frodo's concerned gaze, "I would be lost without him, and yet I have treated him so callously! I have spurned his attempts comfort me, thinking myself so much wiser than he. And now he has gone to my father and find only hurt and more anguish." She blinked with unseeing eyes. "My father has forsaken me for what I have done. He will find no welcome." She concluded in a sad, far away voice. She turned her eyes back to Frodo and he was startled to see how bewildered and lost she looked. It seemed like she was seeing a sight reserved only for her eyes. It frightened him.
He sat her down upon the bed and then firmly said, "My lady! You have so much to live for. Think of your child! He will need you. And you are surrounded by those who love you. You should accept help and kindness when it's offered." Arwen blinked slowly at him and her eyes seemed to begin seeing again. She gave him a sad little smile, which seemed to say "thank you" and at length she kissed him on the forehead. "You counsel well," she paused and then continued, "You should heed your own advice, my dear friend."
Frodo immediately looked down and away saying ruefully, "Isn't it funny, that advice which you can give so clearly for a friend is advice that you can never seem to take yourself." He sighed and looked up. Arwen sat there smiling, grief etched in her face and a sorrow in her eyes that he found painful to behold, "Dear Frodo. Shall we venture forth together to both share in the advice that you have given?" She said in a voice that signaled a resignation to begin again the battle against the soft, enveloping shadow that almost succeeded in silently slipping over her.
"Yes, My lady. I think we should."
Sam was the first to see them enter into the kitchen. "Mr. Frodo! My Lady! Are you well?" Frodo stifled a sigh and said, "Of course, Sam. There is no need to fret yourself. My Lady and I were just talking that is all."
Faramir, who had been wracked with guilt for causing Arwen this much torment, came forward immediately to assist his Queen into a chair. Arwen also stifled a sigh, "My Lord Steward, I am not made of porcelain, I will not break," At least not yet anyway, Arwen sighed.
Faramir, looking somewhat abashed, said "Of course, my Lady! I did not mean to imply by my actions that." His voice trailed off. He saw that the pale cast of her skin was becoming increasingly transparent. It horrified him.
Arwen smiled at the kneeling man and put a hand gently on one shoulder, "Forgive me, Faramir. I know that you did not."
Rosie had been listening to these two exchanges very carefully, protective as a mother hen over the brood that had come to nestle in her house over the past week. She thought over the motley collection of Elves and Hobbits and Men that had taken up residence in Bag End and pondered the bonds of friendship, love and loyalty that bound them and she only hoped it could continue to keep them all together as her eye fell on Arwen and then Frodo and Sam.
***
Two weeks later.
The Lord of Rivendell sat in his study, thoughtful. He had been so ever since the servant had told him where his sons had gone. At first he could not believe that they had openly defied him and his anger raged vowing to never allow them passage into Rivendell, again. Let them live in Lorien if they find Galadriel's presence that much more pleasing than mine, he had thought. That anger had now gone and he was wondering how he had come to this pass. He had lost his daughter and now he felt as if he were on the verge of losing his sons if only in spirit. He felt old. He had never felt quite so old as he did now. The world was passing him by and he no longer understood anything. He had given so much and had had even more taken away from him. He wanted to talk to Arwen, he wanted so much to reach out to her, but he didn't know how to anymore. She was close, he felt it. Even if Galadriel had not informed him about her presence in the Shire he still would have felt it. Her light was still shining, though dimmer than it had ever been. This deeply troubled him.
A page knocked on the door of his study, he called out, "Did not I request that I not be disturbed, can you not follow the simplest of instructions!" he bellowed his head bowed looking down at his parchment.
"You always said I had trouble in that regard." said a quiet voice that stilled Elrond's very soul. He looked up slowly from the parchment he has been trying to study and saw his erstwhile foster son, in travel-stained clothes and muddy boots, on one knee, head bowed. Estel. A jumble of conflicting emotions ran through Elrond. A flash of fond remembrance, love, betrayal, pride, disappointment, anger and hope all warred for supremacy within the Noldorin Lord's breast. He finally settled upon that which had served him, if not well, then at least functionally over the last few years. Cold formality.
"Rise, Elessar, you need never bow to me. It is not appropriate." Elrond saw a rod of steel go through Aragorn's back as he rose from the obsequence he had made to his foster-father, the only father he had ever truly known. Although he bore the patronymic, he had never known Arathorn, who had died when Aragorn was only two. Elrond raised him, loved him even, here in Imladris.
"Forgive the inappropriateness of such an action, I did not mean to cause offence." Grey eyes full of restrained emotion looked upon Elrond's own pale blue ones as a tightly controlled voice spoke the words.
You've taken my daughter, is that not offence enough! And now her light grows dim! came the thought unbidden into Elrond's mind. He blinked and drew breath, desperately trying to calm his raging emotions, "What would you have with me? Is there some issue that needs my attention." he said politely if a bit cynically.
Aragorn caught the cynicism and inwardly winced, his foster father had changed as Elladan had said he had. He steeled himself and said, "Your daughter needs you, sir. Please come and see her."
"Sir? So polite, Elessar. But you are mistaken," Elrond heard himself say, "I have no daughter. I did once, but no more." What am I saying? Why am I saying it. Elrond thought frantically. He glanced at Aragorn who looked like he had just been slapped in the face.
Shocked and stunned, Aragorn was trying desperately to hold on to a composure that was slipping away quicker than he might like to admit. He had expected that this was never going to be an easy task, but he was willing to endure anything if it could bring Arwen back to him fully. Aragorn blinked, desperately trying to think of some argument that could be made that would break through that icy veneer that Elrond had constructed around himself. Arwen's future happiness, her very life depended on it. His thoughts were fracted, jagged with hurt and fear, but he must try.
"Please, sir, she needs you. Whatever you may think of me and what I have done please do not punish your daughter any further than you have. Hate me as you will, but go to your daughter. She loves you and needs you." Aragorn's voice was filled with pain and pleading. Steadily he looked at his foster father awaiting his pronouncement.
"Again I say to you, Elessar." Elrond responded tonelessly, "I have no daughter." He finished to the shock of his own ears. Why can I not reach out!? She needs me.
Aragorn's composure, upon hearing this latest denial, broke utterly. "Damn you, Sir! You condemn you own daughter to death with these words! What do you want from me? I will do anything. Do you want me to beg? I will." At this he dropped to his both knees at Elrond's side, "I am sorry for loving your daughter and taking her away from you, sir! Only please come to her. Her light grows dimmer all the time, I cannot stop it! Please, Sir! Come to her! I'm begging you." Aragorn bowed his head and sobbed, "Hate me, spend your ire upon me if that is what you will, but do not punish her any more!" The words sounded as if they were ripped from Aragorn's very soul.
Elrond looked at the sobbing, shaking man at his knee and suddenly nothing else seemed important, his reasons for anger, his feelings of betrayal mattered little when presented with such abject suffering from such a proud man as he knew Aragorn to be. He felt the icy bands which had constricted his heart for too long melt away in his desire to comfort his foster son and give him what he wanted.
Aragorn kneeled there sobbing for what seemed an eternity of anguish, hopeless that he had made any impact at all upon the Lord of Rivendell, his foster father, when he felt a hand upon his shoulder. Aragorn stiffened and a small ember of hope re-kindled itself in his heart. "Estel," came a voice full of regret and uncertainty, "my son. Look at me." Aragorn raised gray eyes so full of supplication and anguish that it broke Elrond's heart anew. At long last Elrond said the words that he had long been unable to voice. "I forgive you and Arwen. If you can forgive a father his own foolishness? I will go to her and we will ride within the hour."
Aragorn could hardly hear, for the loud rush of blood within his ears, but he looked upon his foster father, gasping and gulping for breath trying desperately to tame the wild beating of his heart, he could only stare his thanks for his beloved's deliverance. Elrond looked concernedly at his foster son, "Estel, did you hear me? Are you quite well."
Aragorn had at last quelled the beat of his heart and the rush of blood in his ears, "Yes, sir. I am now. Thank you." Elrond stood and help him off of his knees and watched as Aragorn drew himself up to his full height and then inclined his head with his hand on his heart, "Hannon le! Hir nin! he said, eyes full of emotion.
***********
Gerich veleth nin, ada! = you have my love, papa! (taken from the script of TTT)
Hannon le! Hir nin! = Thank you! My lord!
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