Author: Maranwe
Summary: Sequel to The Storm. The hard part is over. Now they just have to get through the waiting.
Disclaimer: I still own nothing, not even any of the characters. The title is taken from Moulin Rouge and isn't mine either.
Rating: PG-13 just becuase I really like that rating. *g*
Spoilers: Hm, for The Storm, sort of. Other than that, I can't think of a thing.
A/N: Hi, everyone! You didn't really think I'd end it there did you? *smirks* I suppose I could have told you, but I was very tired. I have a reason for cutting it off, and the reason is the mood shift. The Storm is a dark fic, angsty; this, obviously, is not. In fact, I don't think there's a single cliff-hanger to be found anywhere. Of course, that can change if you people don't review. I'm can be very vindictive. But so long as you review, you don't have to worry about a thing. Oh, and despite the fact that I'm still taking titles form songs, you won't find anymore lyrics sprinkled throughout. That takes far more effort than it's worth, and I can no longer find suitable songs. *g* The extended break was intended to give me a head-start so I don't have to make you wait forever and a day between chapters. So I'll stop rambling now and dedicate this story to those people who wanted more. *g* This is it. I hope you don't get lost.
Don't forget to review.
*~*~*~*~*
The weather had acquired a definite chill as late summer faded into fall and the leaves turned beautiful shades of red and orange and yellow, vibrant in the warm glow of the sun. Rivendell, for all that the elves were nearly gone, was still as peaceful as ever, a haven, and just as lovely as he remembered.
Aragorn glanced with a smile at the vision that walked beside him, her hand clasped lovingly in his, their fingers laced together. Her eyes shone bright blue as she smiled back at him. They had come through so much to reach this point, so much that need not have been necessary. It hurt to think on how much pain he had caused his love because of his fear, but it was a pain he could not hold on to by her side. It hurt even more to know he had almost lost her to that misplaced fear.
Quiet voices drifted to their ears from the courtyard below, a courtyard that already held memories of painful good-byes long past, and now they were forced to add another. Aragorn and the twins were returning to Minas Tirith over the winter while Arwen and the rest of the entourage who had returned remained in Rivendell. They would prepare for the joining of the sundered lines of the half-elven along separate paths, then the Evenstar would make her journey to Minas Tirith and the wedding would be held mid-summer. The prospect of being reunited, however, did not erase the pain of their parting, merely made it bearable.
The king of men stopped their forward motion before they reached their family and turned to face Arwen. He stared into her deep blue eyes and could not stop his hand from rising to caress her cheek. She caught and held it when he would have lowered it to his side. His other hand was still clasped in hers. "Long will be the hours until you may return to me," he murmured.
"Long will be the nights away from your embrace," she answered, stepping closer, "but I will bear such if the promise of your arms is my reward."
"That and more, my love. I will wait for you, nothing less than my very heart and soul yearning for your return." He curled his hand and ran the backs of his fingers down her face tenderly, his eyes tracing the motion. "What could I do to put your heart at ease, my love?"
"Seal it with a kiss."
He smiled softly, then slowly leaned forward and let his lips touch hers, softest velvet, both eyes falling closed as they lost themselves in the bliss of their embrace, and their kiss deepened, a meeting of souls far beyond the physical. Had the world ended and the heavens exploded in brilliant bursts of light, they would not have noticed, nor would they have cared.
After an eternity, the blink of an eye, the need to breath intruded upon their blisss, and they reluctantly parted, retreating just far enough to pull in breath, still held in the other's arms. Aragorn touched his forehead to hers, and they simply stood, enjoying the moment of stillness. Yet stillness could not last.
Arwen borke it. She pulled back to look into his eyes and prompted. "No fear?"
He smiled. "No need," he murmured. "No fear?"
"The shadow holds no sway." Then she caught his lips with her own and sent them soaring through the sky one last time before duty called them apart. When it did, she murmured, "They are waiting." And indeed, the voices had fallen silent in anticipation.
"They can wait," Aragorn answered, pressing soft kisses to her eyes, before moving to kiss down her neck.
Arwen smiled and tilted her head to the side. "They will come looking for us," she reminded him, but did not truly seem concerned.
"Let them."
She laughed, the freed her hands to wrap them around his neck and rested her head against his chest. She felt his settle about her waist, pulling her closer, and felt him sigh into her hair, the gentle exhalation stiring the dark strands.
"I love you, fair Evenstar," he whispered in her ear, for her ears alone.
"And I, you," she responded. A moment passed, then she pulled away. "Come, let us cease their wondering at our absense and depart, lest too much time pass and our wait of necessity grow longer."
"Perish the thought," the man agreed, once again taking up her hand as they continued towards the courtyard and, hopefully, their last farewell.
*~*~*~*~*
It had taken many days of travel to return the elven company to where they had started, and those days had seen Aragorn and Arwen together at every opportunity as if they sought to make up for long years of absence by spending every waking hour in the other's company. Sweet as it was, their traveling companions were less than awed.
It had not taken long for the elves to discover the lovebirds would waste no time declaring their love and that they would be practically useless for the entire trip, so lost in each other that they barely registered their surroundings, a fact they even understood. What they realized just as quickly but could not abide as easily, was that both insisted on proclaiming their love, constantly seeking to outdo the other with their assurances and compiments. Had Elladan and Elrohir not known all their comments would fall on deaf ears, they would have teased their little brother incessantly. By the end of the week, everyone was finding cause to get as far away from the pair as possible. Not everyone managed.
Elrond had fallen into the later category, and had never before wished his hearing were not so keen, though it did his heart good to hear his daughter's delighted giggles. Separating them before the wedding was sure to be a good idea.
"Strange, is it not, how the young ones all manage to disappear," obseved a voice from about his elbow, and Elrond smiled.
"Indeed, I have never seen them comply so readily."
"Nor take so long to complete simple tasks," Celeborn continued, "so long as it takes them away."
Elrond snorted. "Would that I could be taken away. They've turned to love-poetry again. I had thought they would've run out by now."
"Love is never lacking for the sentimental," a new voice announced from Elrond's other side. "As you should well know, my friend."
"Nonsense," the dark-haired elf denied their amused smiles. "I was never so bad as--"
"But you were," interrupted the Balrog-slayer with an obscenely pleased smile. "You were just as smitten as our two lovebirds and just as prone to proclaiming it, though (thankfully) no worse."
Celeborn chuckled appreciably and willingly contributed his own culpability to love. "Aye, and I, as well, though that was many millenia ago."
Elrond smiled and glanced back over his shoulder, eyes seeking out Aragorn and Arwen, clinging close, before moving to the twins, whose own eyes kept darting to the former. He obsered, "Once they are dragged apart, Aragorn will never live this down. I pity him his solitude with the twins on their long journey."
"Those menaces you call sons?" Celeborn questioned, ignoring the paternal glare he received in response. "And well you should. They'll drive him mad before they pass through Rohan."
"Mayhap you would do well to bid them remember his health," Glorfindel suggested.
"Perhaps," Elrond admitted, then shot a sly glance at his friend. "Or perhaps it would be better if you traveled with them, my friend."
"Nay!" he cried. "Not for all the mithril in all the lands would I agree to any such thing."
"What about for a friend?"
Glorfindel glared at Elrond. "Said friend would find himself friend no longer. Surely not even Sauron could deserve such a fate as that?"
Celeborn and Elrond laughed loudly, their joking doing naught to interrupt Aragorn and Arwen. . . .
"If you could do it again? If you could go back to the day we met and change everything, would you?" The light-hearted love-poetry had given way to a more serious vein of thought as Arwen lit on a question that had troubled her mind, a question of the kind that was ever ready to cast doubt in the pool of her soul.
"I would never change my love for you," Aragorn answered, certain. In all the years he had worried, of that he had never held any doubt. "Nor would I wish to. I would lose the brightest light in my sky."
"Ah," Arwen breathed, the answer allowing her to return to a more playful state of mind, and she posed her next question with the direct intention of hearing him proclaim his love--by giving him a way out of it. "But if you could go back and change it, and never know it was gone?"
When his eyes darkened and he turned to regard her somberly, she was caught quite off-guard. His silver eyes held hers unwavering, and she felt her breaath catch in her chest. His left hand came up and cupped her cheek and she held still, the look of inexpressible sadness on his face not at all what she had expected.
"That is a thought too terrible to bear," he murmured. "No man could ever lay eyeson you, fair Evenstar, and ever breath a word to wish that vision gone. No man could ever conspire to cut out a piece of his heart to wish, that upon seeing you, he did not love you, no matter his pain. I least of all. Speak no more of such folly."
Her hand came up and clasped Aragorn's, then drifted out to mirror his gesture. Tears pooled in her eyes as she smiled and agree, "No more."
He smiled, then leaned in for a quick kiss before pulling back and catching her hand in his own. "But what of you, fair Lady? Surely you could find someone of noble bearing and surer charm upon whom to bestow your heart?"
Her grin turned wry. "I thought we were to talk no more of this, good sir."p
"That, my lady. And this, while similar, is not that. Would you not speak of it?"
"I will speak but only once," she answered, and caught his gaze firmly. "My heart could have chosen no nobler a soul than yours, and I shall never wish it would." She held his gaze seriously, then let an impish smile light her eyes and curl her lips. "As to charm, whose could be surer than he who hath a silver tongue?"
Aragorn smiled and glanced away towards Elladan and Elrohir, taking in their smiling faces and secret glances before swinging back to take in Arwen's smiling face. "You do wonders for a man's pride, my love."
"Just remember I am yours and have no fear," she said.
"None," he answered. "And you, Arwen fairest. Have you no fear?"
"None."
They smiled and settled into loving silence, content to simply drink in the other's company. The elves around them breathed a collective sigh of relief.
*~*~*~*~*
Elrond smiled knowingly at the twins before turning a bright smile on his daughter and his foster son as they emerged from teh concealed path, hand in hand. It did his heart good to see the joy in their radiant faces.
"Ready to go, Estel?" Elrohir asked.
Aragorn glanced at Arwen tenderly and smiled, then turned back to face them with a wry smile. "Would you be ready?" he asked, tilting his head in the elf-maiden's direction.
The twins stifled their laughter and settled for huge grins instead. "Granted, but will you go?" Elladan asked.
"In the hopes that it is the last time," he agreed, stepping forward, his hand sliding from Arwen's reluctantly. She clasped her hands before her and managed a mostly assuring smile when he turned to face her. "At least this time I am not setting out on a fool's quest," he observed with a smile, winning a truer smile from his lady.
Elrond looked grave. "Though traveling with Elladan and Elrohir is just as dangerous."
The twins sputtered indignantly as those around them laughed. Arwen stepped nearer her father and leveled her elder brothers with a stern glare. "No harm is to come to him. Am I clear?"
"Sister, we would never let any harm befall Estel," Elladan argued with a frown of wounded pride.
She arched her eyebrow delicately and lifted her chin. "You will do nothing to him."
"Us?" Elrohir asked, looking hurt. Arwen's expression did not change. "How could you ever consider such a thing?"
"I know you quite well, my brother. And I am well aware of what you do to your siblings and your friends."
Both stared at her somewhat flabberghasted before turning their attention to Aragorn, who could not hide his grin fast enough. "You told her! How could you tell her?"
"Tell her what?" Elrond inquired calmly. "Is it something I should know about?"
Neither twin moved for a fraction of a second as their minds raced to form whatever story they would perpetrate this time, then their careless grins were back. "Oh, nothing important, Ada. Just a little game that doesn't need to be discussed. It's long over."
"And likely will be reborn on our trip to Minas Tirith."
"Say not so, brother!" Elrohir exclaimed, looking vaguely horrified, a similar expression adorning Elladan's face.
"Just so! We would never do any such thing."
"Somehow," Aragorn said wryly. "I am not comforted."
"No, indeed," Elrond agreed. "Mayhap I should send Glorfindel with you."
"He would not thank you, Ada," Elladan said regretfully, and Elrond could not hold back a smile. Neither could Arwen or Aragorn.
"And your point is?" the elf lord inquired archly.
Elladan and Elrohir exchanged slightly startled, bemused glances and Aragorn sidled closer to Arwen. The other's could just make out what he whispered in her ear. "I told you it was hereditary."
The indignant cries to the contrary and good-natured laughter and ribbing that followed, saw the three brothers on their horses, necessary bags and supplies secured tightly on their mounts and the trio all but ready to go, their spirits high.
Elladan and Elrohir urged their horses forward toward the gate, but Aragorn hesitated and maneuvered closer to Arwen. He looked at her with a smile on his face and asked, "One more, my love? For the long journey ahead till I may again know bliss at your side."
"And you claim to lack charm," Arwen responded, but acquised with a willing smile and stepped closer, tilting her head up. The man leaned down and caught her lips iwth his own, their eyes closed, and contentment was written in the ease of their posture.
Then Aragorn pulled back slowly and seemed to gather himself. A foot away, he whispered, "I shall await your arrival in Minas Tirith with baited breath, my love. Fare the well, until winter hath gone and love shines in the fullness of spring."
With that, he pulled his horse around and kicked the creature's belly, sending him after the twins in a flurry of hooves. They were gone from sight in a matter of moments, but both elves who stayed behind clearly saw him look back one last time.