A/N: Thank you, dshael for liking my story! Actually, as it turns out this story just got pushed a little higher up on the priorities list. (I had to put my "Pirates" fic on hold because it just wasn't coming to me like it had been.)

-Fate-

"It hath often been said that it is not death but dying that is terribly."

-Henry Felding

Arwen sat on a chair in her chambers overlooking the forest below, hoping that any moment now she would see Aragorn's figure trek up to the Last Homely House. It had been several days now since anyone had heard anything from the Ranger, though, she was most thankful that once the storm had started Lord Elrond had sent someone to search for the man. Arwen kept trying to tell herself that he was going to come bounding into Rivendell at any moment with just another story to tell. But she simply couldn't make herself believe that. The foreboding premonition that Aragorn would not return seemed close to becoming true.

"Please return safely," she whispered, closing her eyes.

As if in response to what she had said, the sound of several voices met her ears coming from the main entrance below her. She couldn't make out much of what was being said, one of the voices being Elrond, she could only have high hopes. Rushing out of the room she hurried to the main entrance, eager to prove that foreboding feeling wrong.

"Bring him to my chambers immediately, see that his wounds are cleaned."

"My lord…"

"Immediately."

"Yes, my lord."

Arwen slowly turned the corner, a knot in her stomach. All she could see was Elrond with his head bowed at the sound of receding footsteps. The Elf felt tears threaten to press up against her eyes as she moved closer and saw the grim expression on her father's face. He looked up suddenly, recognizing Arwen's presence.

"Father…" she started in a cracked voice. "It's not…"

"I'm sorry," he said softly.

Everything was spiraling downward far too fast for her. "Aragorn… he'll…"

"I'll do what I can… but…" Elrond raised his eyes to look into his daughter's and found himself unable to continue. "Do not lose faith," he offered, but his words sounded hollow. Not able to endure Arwen's gaze any longer he turned away and followed after the others.

The Elf stepped into the room to see a healer tending to Aragorn's wounds and the one he had sent, Halmear, to find him. Elrond stood on the threshold of the room, at a loss for speech. Halmear looked at the Elf-lord and shook his head regretfully.

"Forgive me, Lord Elrond, but I'm afraid not even your skills are enough to save him." When Elrond could only be silent, Halmear continued. "You can't bring back the dead."

"He's not dead," Elrond murmured at length. "Not…not yet."

The healer looked up from her work and sighed. "Halmear is right… There's hardly any life left in him. There's nothing left that we can do."

"I don't understand…" the Elf whispered, then looked to Halmear. "What happened? Can you tell me anything of what ill fate befell him?"

The other Elf inhaled before speaking, not wanting to recall what he had seen. "I found him lying among some warg bodies… He was in no better state than you see here, running a fever… barely breathing." He tried to offer a forced smile. "He fought bravely, my lord."

Elrond felt a weight on his heart become steadily heavier and heavier as he tried to comprehend. "How much longer before…?"

"Not much longer," replied the female Elf.

"Halmear, would you be so kind as to bring my daughter to me, I wish to speak with her," he said. Requiring no second bidding, Halmear bowed and ducked out of the room. When he returned with Arwen, Elrond was already waiting outside the room, the grave air etched onto his face.

"Father, tell me it's not true…" When no reply came she hid her face in her hands, tears pouring from her eyes. He embraced her, but this made her no less ill at ease.

"Arwen, you knew as well as I do… He is mortal, he was doomed to die."

"Not like this… not so soon," she blurted out through her tears.

"It's always too soon." Arwen took a breath, trying to level herself, but it was evident it did little to no good. Glancing into the room she took a step towards it, but Elrond placed a restraining hand on her shoulder. "Please, do not cause yourself more grief."

Arwen disregarded him and continued into the room which was very dim in the twilight as only a single candle in the room was present for giving off any light. She moved towards the bed, careful not to make too much sound, but her heart simply gave way at the sight. She went to her knees beside the bed, her shoulders shaking with soft sobs.

"Estel… Come back Estel," she pleaded in a soft voice. Arwen bowed her head, wrapping her hand around his.

The healer looked to Elrond who stood in the doorway, silently, he bade the healer to take leave. The healer nodded in understanding, following the Elf-lord out of the room.

"Arwen…"

The Elf-maiden's head jolted upright at the sound of her name being spoken, a smile spreading on her lips at realizing it was Aragorn that spoke it. "Don't leave me, Estel. I can't lose you," she sobbed, tears springing from her eyes in a torrent.

He squeezed her hand weakly. "I'd never leave you." He raised his free hand to wipe a tear from Arwen's cheek, but this only seemed to ensue more tears. "Namárie," Aragorn said, then his shallow breaths came to a stop.

"Estel…" she murmured, still clasping his hand. "Estel! No!" Arwen threw her arms around his still form, his eyes glazed over in death.

(~*~)

Aragorn was confused. He knew where he was, yet, it was unlike anywhere he had been before. The trees were a rippling shadow, the ground below him was churned and rocky. The sky above looked as though it had been spattered with dirt and blood.

"Where am I?" he asked himself. The last thing he could remember was… that he had died. "What's going on?" he thought out loud.

"You're in the world of the living, though, it's not quite the same for us."

Aragorn spun around to see a young woman with flaming red hair, and a red cloak wrapped around her shoulders to match. "I don't understand… Who are you? What's going on?" he demanded, too confused to ask only one question at once.

"I am Fate," the young woman said.

"What?"

"I know… I take many forms… But the image is always different in the eye of the beholder, for instance, Life," she placed an elegant, indicating hand across her chest. "Death…" In the blink of an eye she had changed into the tall, cloaked figure he had seen not long before. "Even Love." Here she became a mirror-image of Arwen, making Aragorn's heart sink at the thought of her. Fate turned back to young woman with red hair.

"I don't understand… Why am I here?"

Fate shrugged. "To tell you the truth, I don't think you're supposed to be here."

"What!?" Aragorn exclaimed, taking a threatening step towards her.

She held up her hands defensively. "It wasn't my fault! Something that is out of my control is taking place in Rivendell… Something catastrophic."

"Catastrophic… then Arwen…"

"Is in danger, yes, but I tell you, there's nothing that can be done…"

"I don't understand!" Aragorn exclaimed, throwing up his hands. "You're Fate, yet you can do nothing!?"

"Not at the moment… It's rather complicated." The man groaned in exasperation. After some silence, Fate took a glance around the clearing. "Do you recognize this place, Aragorn?"

He nodded silently, his eyes fixated on the ground. "Yes… This is where I first saw Arwen… But it's changed…"

"That's because when we're in the realm of the living, we can't see it as they do. For us, the living is something of an indistinguishable memory," Fate explained.

When Aragorn raised his eyes to look at her they were no longer standing in the clearing, instead, they were standing in Elrond's chambers, where Arwen still wept over his body. He felt a desire to cry out to her, wanting to move closer to her, but Fate placed a slender, yet potent hand on his shoulder.

"She knows you're here," Fate said with a reassuring smile. "See how much clearer her image is? See how hazy everything else is?"

Aragorn nodded, incapable to pull his gaze away from Arwen, tears of his own pressing at his eyes.

"She can feel your presence. Trust that."

The man watched Elrond enter the room, then halt at the sight of Arwen clinging to the form of his foster son. He gently walked towards him, then closed his unseeing eyes. Aragorn walked to Arwen, in spite of Fate's demands. He did not know what he could do to comfort her, and felt the pain in his heart become all the more severe.

"I miss her," he whispered in agony.

"It's time for us to leave, we can't stay in their realm for too long," Fate stated, turning him away from the Elves. Everything around them went black, and Aragorn felt as though somebody had dumped a bucket of ice cold water over his head, though there was no water. When the darkness lifted, Aragorn found himself standing at the top of a tower that seemed to overlook all of Middle-Earth.

Fate stood alongside him, following his gaze. "Welcome to the other side, Aragorn."