That means I'm going to rewrite it. That means it will be finished when I start posting again. That means the two chapters prior plus this one are not going to exist when I'm done. That means I'm starting all over. That also means it could be January before I begin posting again. Depends on how cooperative the fic is.
This is one of those posts where the author says so sorry and leaves you high and dry without a new chapter when you were really expecting and looking forward to one. But I am not unearthly cruel, so I'm not going to do that. You get the chapter that came next, as it was written, so coming to check out this new post was not for naught, and I think it's at least vaguely entertaining. And that's not all I'm leaving you with. I'm also leaving you with two promises. The first, is that I will continue posting, likely by the new year. The second, is that you will get a wedding. The wedding will come, and I hope to be able to make it as beautiful as it deserves, but we'll see.
That said, please enjoy this last offering before everything is scraped to start over, and don't give up on me. Please. *gives big puppy dog eyes* I will do the best I can to get this finish and resume posting in the most efficient way possible so that you do not have to wait a long, long time. Please be patient.
Farewell.
Dreaming of You
Now with two added to their company and the assurance of Eomer that he would come to the wedding come summer, Aragorn set out from the flat lands of Rohan, the chill gusts of the season buffeting the riders who sought Minas Tirith. The cold chilled their faces, reddening their faces, but only the human and the dwarf were effected, though neither complained. Gimli's pride would not allow it, and Aragorn's feet yet flew too high off the ground to be dissuaded by anything so trivial as a slight chill.
The group of five had covered many leagues, pausing only briefly for lunch, when they halted for the night and to dine. Elladan and Elrohir immediately set about making the dinner while Legolas took to the trees to scout for danger, which left the horses to Aragorn and Gimli.
The former ranger minded not at all, having missed the Wilds over the last decade in his tenure as king, but the dwarf lost no time in making his thoughts on the matter well known, grumbling about the height, and how the bloody creatures would not stand still, and how his two legs still out-classed their four. Aragorn did his best not to laugh as he worked, distracting himself by speaking to the horses in elvish as he tended them, but he had nearly lost control by the time Legolas returned.
The blonde haired elf entered the camp quietly and noted what was going on with a distant smile, then he jumped from the tree and landed lightly a few feet from Gimli. "My good Master Gimli! I pray thee cease this relentless prattle at once! You need not weary the horses' ears with such talk. And surely Master Dwarf is not tired after a few hours of mere riding."
"Now see here, Master Elf!" Gimli bristled, dropping the saddle he had held in his hands. Aragorn buried his face in the horse's coat in a desperate attempt not to lose it right there, not trusting himself to look at his friends. "You may find your ease gallivanting in trees and singing to your heart's content, but I need real work. Give me a few Orc necks to sever and you'll find no fresher Dwarf!"
Elladan laughed from his perch near the fire. "Careful, dear Gimli, or you may well get your wish! We travel with Strider, and no person does trouble follow more closely than him."
"Save perhaps yourselves," Aragorn interrupted over hearty laughter, "who enjoy trouble so much you hunt it up for fun." With that, he settled onto a log that had been pulled up near the fire for their comfort, Legolas settling next to him while Gimli placed himself across from the twins.
"That's not fair, brother," Elrohir protested, his eyes on the food. "But as our meal is ready, I will wait to prove my point."
"I think you simply need the time to conjure a response," Legolas retorted with a smile.
Aragorn elbowed him lightly in the ribs and said, "Now, Legolas, that's not fair--"
"Thank you, Estel."
"--They must coordinate these things through two brains, it is only right that it take them twice as long to form an answer."
Legolas and Gimli roared with laughter as Elladan and Elrohir threw sticks at their human brother, indignant. But that was merely the beginning and each individual before that campfire found himself the target of good-natured ribbing, and none were quite certain how they managed to complete their meal, yet by the time all were ready to settle down for the night, all the food was gone. The night grew old and one-by-one the group bedded down and drifted off to sleep.
Aragorn settled down, his pack under his head to sever as his pillow with a thin elven blanket thrown over his form to ward off the chill, and stared up at the stars visible through the nearly naked tree limbs above his head. Staring up at the familiar sight, his thoughts drifted back towards Rivendell and Arwen. He wondered what she was doing, and if she, too, was staring up at the stars thinking of him.
A smile touched his face and he breathed deeply the crisp fall air, enjoying the out-doors as an image of Arwen appeared before his eyes. Her lips curled in a smile and the light of the stars lit her eyes. Her radiant skin shone as the moon, and her long back hair flowed down her back in gentle waves, shimmering in a pure light that showed her for the angel she was. Lying on his back, beneath those trees, he wondered again what he had done to deserve her light and grace. It was a question he had asked and had answered, but one he also felt he would not be able to escape, even if the Valar themselves answered his musing. She loved him. He could not believe it.
His mind drifted ahead to when she would be his queen, forever by his side, and his life and her life would become one their life, become one. He loved the idea of waking up every day with her by his side, her lovely face his first sight when he opened his eyes to the world, and his last sight when he went to bed every night. His dream . . . and it was soon to be reality, his reality.
"Perhaps if you were asleep, her presence would be nearer at hand."
Aragorn turned his head towards the voice, startled from his thoughts, to find Legolas perched on a log near his head with a smile on his face. The man raised his head slightly and glanced towards his brothers.
"They sleep," the elf prince assured, his smile widening. "How long have they been like this?"
The man pushed himself up on his elbow and smiled ruefully. "Since we left Rivendell, my ears have been wearied to no end." Legolas chuckled. "How did you know my thoughts were of Arwen?"
Legolas slid off the log so he sat next to his friend. "Every time your thoughts dwell on the Evenstar you get this incredibly dreamy smile on your face, and no matter where your eyes are focused they never see what they are looking at. From there, it is no difficult task to determine who you really see."
"I can scarcely believe my eyes, Legolas," Aragorn admitted with a boundless smile, his voice soft and awed. "I can scarcely believe in just a few months she will be my wife and the rest of my waking days will be finished with her by my side. It seems impossible, and yet my ears tell me it is true, conspiring with my eyes to beguile my senses and lead my heart to folly."
"Nay, believe it, mellon nin," Legolas laughed. "Your brothers would not be so insufferable if their little brother and baby sister were not to be wed."
His smile never wavering, Aragorn laid back, comforted by his friend's words, and he gazed up at the stars, finding Earendil especially bright this night. "Can you see it?" he breathed.
Legolas' lips twitched, and he turned his own eyes towards the sky. He was not sure what Aragorn saw, but he had a feeling the human was treading close to sleep's open door. So he took a guess, and spoke. "You will be perfect together, mellon nin, a sight to behold, the embodiment of all that is strong and good and pure, and most able to lead the Race of Men to long endure the test of time."
As if he were in a dream, Aragorn turned his eyes away from the stars and looked at his friend, his smile faded as he looked at the elf solemnly, his friend's words striking a cord he had not expected.
Legolas smiled softly. "Look not so surprised, Aragorn. Just because you do not see your worth does not mean other do not. Arwen could not have made a better choice, and Gondor's king and queen will see them safely through long years."
"Hannon le, mellon nin," the man murmured softly.
"Sleep, Strider," the elf prince bid quietly. "Morning approaches too quickly."
"Don't start that, Legolas," he warned, even as he gave into his body's cries for sleep, and the elf's light laughter chased him down into the comforting oblivion of sleep.
*~*~*~*~*
"The birds sing for you, my love," Aragorn murmured in Arwen's ear as they walked along with the rest of the company who had chosen to forgo riding to stretch their legs. "They rejoice at your presence."
"Surely not mine alone," she demurred.
"And why not? None can ignore your beauty."
Arwen fought a smile as she turned to face Aragorn and force him to walk next to her, pleasure in her warm eyes. "And you wonder why my brothers keep giving you odd looks."
"Nay," he denied. "I know why, and I fear when I shall finally be forced to be alone in their company, but I shall not stop. The truth has been hidden inside me too long."
Gently, she stroked a hand down his cheek, then pressed a kiss to that cheek. "My heart rejoices that our love may at last come to fruit."
He caught her hand before she could drop it and held it close, his eyes a somber gray. "I regret the time that caused your pain for my foolishness."
"Do not--"
"Nay, let me." Aragorn's eyes pleaded with her, and she smiled slightly to grant her permission. He squeezed her hand in gratitude. "I wish there were something I could do to erase it. Ask something of me, my Lady, that I might begin to repay my debt."
"There is no debt."
"Ask."
She sighed and looked away, wondering what she would do with him if he never got over his guilt. "I ask a kiss," she answered coyly, slanting a glance his direction. "For your every touch is a balm against the pain of past."
"I would deny you nothing," he murmured, then leaned around and caught her lips with his own, drinking in her sweetness and returning tenderness. Neither moved, their progress stopped as a waterfall of joy cascaded around them, their eyes closed to better experience its feel. Neither noticed the whole company had stopped to watch them until they parted and noticed the silence around them.
Cautiously, Aragorn glanced around him, catching sight of multiple faces looking at them, his eyes lighting on Elladan and Elrohir, smirking as they stood next to Elrond. No one moved and the man could feel heat rising in his face. Licking his lips, he smiled crookedly and inquired, "Well, what would you do?"
*~*~*~*~*
Arwen walked lightly through the garden, her mind floating blissfully among the clouds as she hummed a tune from her younger days of spring and happiness. Though winter held much of Middle-earth in its sway, Rivendell was yet of mild clime and the last blooms of the season were holding valiantly to life. She smiled as she took in their beauty, listening contentedly to their own happiness at her presence.
The days that had passed since Aragorn had left to continue on to Minas Tirith had seen a increase in winter's chill, though she felt it not. The worst of it came in the brisk winds, striking the skin as if with little bits of ice. Sometimes she worried about Aragorn, traveling in this weather, but she remembered that he had traveled long in worse and her brothers were with him (admittedly a cause for concern in and of itself), thought they would never do anything to harm the human. That let her heart find ease in his absence.
So much had happened in so short a time that she could not be certain she was not dreaming. She prayed it was real and that she would not wake up to find her newfound hope nothing more than a mirage that dissipated when one got too close.
Her memories were all she had left of those blissful days when he had been by her side, when she could reach out her hand and touch him, feel the warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips. She missed the nights where she lay in his arms, the steady thump of his heart a comforting drumbeat against her ear, the rise and fall of his chest a reassuring rhythm in her sleep. They were tangible proofs, and yet she could touch them no more than a dream.
She knelt. Feather light fingers ghosted over a nearby rose, feeling the silken petals beneath her fingers, and she leaned closer to inhale its sweet scent, the memory the smell brought with it no longer painful for her to bear, and she smiled, her eyes drifting closed. The flower had been a rose.
Light footsteps drifted across the quiet garden to her, the step familiar from a different place. She opened her eyes to see her grandmother standing before her.
Galadriel smiled. "Come, my child. There is much we must yet do before Minas Tirith."
Arwen rose and gained her feet, her hand falling away from the flower as she straightened. "It all seems like a dream," she whispered. "How can I be certain I will not wake and find it gone?"
The light-haired elf maiden took Arwen's hand and began leading her back to her room. "Love is rarely so certain as we wish," Galadriel answered, tone gentle. "It is a risk to release your heart to another. But fear not, young one, you love not in vain. Of this you may be sure."
A content smile spread across her face, as vibrant as the bird song in spring, an expression of bliss, a proclamation of new life that would overcome all obstacles and dangers. The two elf-maidens continued together into the halls of the Last Homely House. Their footsteps were nearly silent as they moved, a quiet anticipation and overwhelming joy suffusing the silence of the house who held but a few of its original number. Perhaps there should have been sorrow at this, a quiet pain, but if there was, Arwen could not feel it. She could see no reason to release her joy, no cause for regret in staying while the rest of her kin sailed. Her heart was here.
They paused outside her door and Galadriel's hand cupped her cheek as she favored the young elf-maiden before her with a small smile. "I'll return in a moment; there is something I must do before we begin."
Arwen nodded and watched her a moment before turning to enter. The materials they would need were already neatly laid out so she had naught to do but wait. She walked over to her bookshelf and ran her fingers along the spines, intending to pull out the rose she had pressed years ago, a tangible possession of his love for her. She pulled the book towards her and dislodged an envelope she did not recognize, which landed with a slight clink before her. Blue eyes stared at it, frozen, before she placed the book aside and delicately lifted the envelope.
It was slightly heavier than normal, and she turned it curiously, script on one side catching her attention. She recognized Aragorn's bold hand as it spelled her name, and felt a flutter in her chest. Slightly trembling hands broke the seal and pulled the letter out. Leaving the strange weight in the envelope, she unfolded it and let her eyes trace the words of her beloved.
My Love,
I know you have bid me feel no guilt, that there is no guilt, but I mourn the pain I cause and lament that we must part now. Yet such sorrows cannot hold me, for I look ever towards the happy day of our union.
Well I remember that you have been in this position before and I can only imagine what whispers in your mind in the dark solitude of night, when shadows poke holes in our strongest commitments and light seems long in coming. I hate the part I may have held in making it thus. But this, perhaps, I can help.
In this envelope, you will find the Ring of Barahir--
Surprised, she put the letter down and turned the envelope over in her hand. True to his word, the ring slid out onto her palm. It's silver band flashed dully in the pale light that filled the room, filtered in through the open window. The twisted bodies of the two snakes curved around to cradle the emerald in its grasp, a beautiful piece of work. She knew what if meant to him, regardless that he had fought his destiny for decades.
It represents all that I am and all that I have become. It holds my hopes and the hopes of all Middle-earth, if only because I have placed that meaning there. I give it to you, Arwen, for safe-keeping, a promise that I will be here when you come. I know you will keep it well.
With all my heart,
Aragorn.
The questions she held stilled in peace and warmth suffused her soul as a smile, pure as the sun, lit her face.