Here's a follow-up to that extraordinarily short chapter just then. Hope it's longer. I just re-read the appendices in the back of ROTK; I haven't read them in forever. I'm trying to mix book-Arwen in with movie-Arwen. For the sake of this, I'm going to pretend that Éowyn did not meet Elladan and Elrohir before, like she did in the book. Elrond and the twins attended the wedding of Arwen and Elessar, but they did not stay very long and none of the people of Gondor saw them. Needless to say, all within is not mine, and the poem is Tolkein's (you can find it on page 401 of book I). I also used some of the text that Legolas said in the book for Arwen. Oh, and was for Aragorn not going to Lórien – Galadriel says to him in FOTR that "We shall not meet again." I guess it's not that an important thing to stick with, but I kinda liked it.
The Grace of the Valar Chapter 4
For a long time Arwen and Éowyn rode, until they came upon Parth Galan at dusk at the second day. Both wondered at their speed; it seemed as though their horses had grown wings for feet. Never had the journey from Minas Tirith been quicker, for the ladies and their horses found many hidden paths and trials that were known only to Elves and the creatures of the plains, and no army had every passed through them. The ride of the Queen of Elves and Men and the Lady of Ithilien would be sung in legend for the ages of man.
There was another legend sung about Parth Galan: it was the place where Boromir the Brave, Son of Denethor, had fallen. Here he had been tempted by the ring and had failed, and then redeemed himself by defending the Hobbits Merry and Pippin from a host of Orcs. Arwen knew what had befallen Boromir, but Eowyn did not; the truth was kept secret from the People of Gondor so as not to sully the memory of the Great Captain. Both ladies passed the place in reverent silence, with their heads bowed.
They had long ago passed Parth Galan, and had paused and rested for a while, and yet the solemnity of that place still hung about them. Though throughout their ride they had often spoken and laughed, they now remained silent, each wandering in her own thoughts. The Evening Star shone bright in the sky, and Arwen softly sang of the maiden Nimrodel, along whose river's banks they now rode, in her own tongue, and Eowyn strained to hear.
When Arwen had stopped singing, Eowyn looked over to her and asked, "It sounds so mournful. Is it a sad tale that you sing of?"
Arwen paused for a moment, and slowly answered, "Some would say so. Translated into common speech, the song goes thus:
An Elvin-maid there was of old,A shining star by day:
Her mantle white was trimmed with gold,
Her shoes of silver-grey.
A star was bound upon her brows,
A light was on her hair,
As sun upon the golden boughs
Of Lorien the fair.
Her hair was long, her limbs were white,
And fair she was and free;
And in the wind she went as light
As leaf of linden-tree.
Beside the falls of Nimrodel,
By water clear and cool,
Her voice as falling silver fell
Into the shining pool.
Where now she wanders none can tell,
In sunlight or in shade;
For lost of yore was Nimrodel
And in the mountains strayed.
The elven-ship in haven grey
Beneath the mountain-lee
Awaited her for many a day
Beside the roaring sea.
A wind by night in Northern lands
Arose, and loud it cried,
And drove the ship from elven strands
Across the streaming tide.
When dawn came dim the land was lost,
The mountains sinking grey
Beyond their heaving waves that tossed
Their plumes of blinding spray.
Amroth beheld the fading shore
Now low beyond the swell,
And cursed the faithless ship that bore
Him far from Nimrodel.
Of old he was an Elven-king,
A lord of tree and glen,
When golden were the boughs in spring
In fair Lothlorien.
From helm to sea they saw him leap,
As arrow from the string,
And dive into the water deep,
As mew upon the wing.
The wind was in his flowing hair,
The foam about him shone;
Afar they saw him strong and fair
Go riding like a swan.
But from the West has come no word,
And on the Hither Shore
No tidings Elven-folk have heard
Of Amroth Evermore.
'I cannot sing any more," said Arwen, "That is but a part, for I have forgotten much. It is long, for it tells how sorrow came upon Lothlórien, when evil was awakened in the mountains. Then many of the Elves of Nimrodel's kindred left their dwellings and departed, and she was lost far in the South, in the passes of the White Mountains; and she came not to the ship where Amroth her lover waited for her. But in the spring when the wind is in the new leaves the echo of her voice may still be heard by the falls that bear her name. And when the wind is in the South the voice of Amroth comes up from the sea; for Nimrodel flows into Anduin the Great, and Anduin flows into the Bay of Belfalas whence the Elves of Lórien set sail. But neither Nimrodel nor Amroth ever came back.
'So some would indeed say that it is a sad tale. But it is a tale of undying love also, and that can not be sad."
Eowyn nodded, "It seems so. Is Nimrodel one of your kindred? She seems very similar to you."
Arwen laughed, and it was the sound of gentle wind chimes. "They say I am far more like Lúthien Tinúviel, who forsook her immortality. Lúthien I am told is one of my foremothers, but I do not know of Nimrodel. I did not then walk this Earth. She may be – she is of the same people as my grandmother. But I do not know."
Eowyn looked on in wonder, and said, "It seems that legend comes alive around me. I have been through war and have fought against evil and prevailed – and yet the mystery of the Elves astounds me. I was eager to travel to Lórien – I remember the old songs." And she sang:
In Dwimordene, in LórienSeldom have walked the feet of Men,
Few mortal eyes have seen the light
That lies there ever, long and bright.
Galadriel! Galadriel!
Clear is the water of your well;
White is the star in your white hand;
Unmarred, unstained is leaf and land
In Dwimordene, in Lórien
More fair than thoughts of men.
'And yet I am now frightened," said Eowyn, "For it seems that even you have become distant and the matter of legend."
And Arwen laughed again softly, and she took care that it sounded more human and less like silver bells. "If it is legend that you fear, Lady Eowyn, then you must live in a constant state of terror. For your deeds are brave and your heart is strong, and your songs shall be sung for ages to come. As for my daer-naneth, indeed she is powerful, but she is kind and gentle. You have nothing to fear from those who dwell in Lórien," and now she grinned, decidedly un-legend like.
Eowyn smiled back, though her smile was hesitant, and said, "You are truly a friend. And yet I wonder if you would still be so kind if you knew that I had once loved the King."
Arwen turned to face her and looked her in the eye, and said in a calm voice fringed with amusement, "I do know, and I am not angry." In answer to Eowyn's questioning glance, she continued, "Do not fear, for Estel did not mention anything to me; he has never spoken save highly of you. I felt the reserve in you when we first met, and surmised as much. I do not loathe you for it. I believe that there is nothing for me to worry over, for I do not think you could ever be so happy with Estel as you are with Faramir." Her eyes twinkled.
Eowyn smiled, "I am glad, then, that the past will not come between our friendship. And I do think that there is no one for me but Faramir. I had always feared marriage, because I thought I would surrender my freedom and myself to another; Faramir will never require this of me. He loves me and I love him. I only hope that one day that we can have what you and Aragorn share."
"You will," Arwen assured her, and there was a comforting confidence in her voice, "I have known Aragorn for some sixty years now. Over time, your relationship will deepen and your trust will grow until you loose yourselves in each other."
Eowyn replied, "Faramir and I are the Son and Daughter of lesser men, and we will not live to such a great age as an Elve or a Dúnedain. How will we ever have the chance?"
"You will. I met Estel sixty years ago, and we did not see each other again for almost thirty years. We spent a summer together in Lothlórien, and we plighted our troth on Cerin Amroth. I went back to Rivendell and he came and went often, until now, almost thirty years later, we were wed. We had time, and so we took it. You and Faramir have not quite so much time, but you spend all of it together. Who knows, perhaps the Valar will grant you a life longer than that of man for all you deeds?"
Eowyn looked at her, "You age speaks wisdom and I will trust it."
"I am glad to have you trust," Arwen replied, though she did not seem to be paying very much attention to what had just been said. Instead, she suddenly stood very still, spying in between the trees ahead and listening as a cat might.
"While we are on the subject of age, milady, how long have you walked this earth?" asked Eowyn, not noticing the sudden change in her companion's posture.
Suddenly, a dark figure stepped out from between the trees, quickly followed by another. Cloaks covered their faces, and a powerful voice issued forth from somewhere in the shadows.
"That, lady, is never a good question to ask a woman."
This chapter was a little longer. Hope you liked it! I'll update as soon as possible; I should be able to write soon since it's the weekend. Please review! Thank you so much to all the nice people who took the time to review that incredibly short chapter back there…