Eina Nostare, Meleth Nin

A/N: This story was written for the Telumendil Competition, a challenge in which you had to write an Aragorn/Arwen fluff story with the following elements:

A broken vase

A candle

A sunset

Eowyn's cooking

A lullaby

A nightshift

A snow-elf

Aragorn and Arwen's daughter does not have a name because this was an anonymous competition. The title means 'Happy Birthday, My Love' in Elvish.

And to all of my regular readers - the next chapter of Into the Shadow will be up A.S.A.P.

~~~~~~~

Arwen looked up through the mazes of her bedchamber. "Aragorn? Where did you go?"

A muffled voice came from behind a large statue of a rather grimy-looking man. "Over here." A second later he popped out, twirling an engraved knife. "Look. Even among the utmost junk you can still find treasure."

Arwen shook her head, stifling a smile. "I'm sure everyone put a lot of thought and care into your gifts."

Aragorn snorted and held up a filmy black gown. "Then how did I ever end up with a satin nightshift?"

She laughed. "I think it's from Hirluin of the Green Hills. He's always sending you his castoffs."

Aragorn picked his way through a sea of draperies. "One would imagine that the whole of Arda made it their mission to send a pointless present. I can't imagine why they think I would want any of this."

"It's the one hundredth birthday of their King," she reminded him. "Such an occasion practically mandates tacky gifts."

He paused and gave a resounding tap on the side of a large green vase. "Who sent over this monstrosity?"

"Imrahil of Dol Amroth, and he's coming to the banquet tomorrow night, so be sure to mention how well it goes with our color scheme." She paused. "So that will be eighty in all. I'd better get word to the kitchens."

He sat down beside her, fiddling with his knife. "Be sure to tell them no roast goose."

She wrinkled her nose. "You know, sometimes I feel I'm not the Queen of Gondor at all." She grinned. "Just the event planner."

He leaned over and kissed her. "Whatever you are, you'll always rule over my heart."

"And I'll probably have to plan parties there, too," she murmured, slipping her arms around his neck. "Just my luck."

She felt the soft sensation of his lips on hers and at once her muscles relaxed and she lost everything, including the overwhelming party plans, in the sweet thrill of his kiss. He was bending over her, and his arms were moving lower -

"Charge, men of Gondor!" The door burst open with a triumphant shout. "Ride! Ride to victory!"

The ten-year-old boy took in the situation at once, shouted in disgust, and shielded his eyes. "Fall back!" he called. "Fall back to the dining hall!" And he was off, waving his padded pole quite fiercely.

A little girl peeked her head into the room. Arwen grinned in surrender, sat up, and held out her arms to the child.

The five-year-old climbed up onto her lap at once. "I'm the last line of defense," she informed her parents gravely. "In case the stables are breached."

Aragorn stroked his chin thoughtfully. "The stables are well fortified. I don't think you need to worry."

His daughter pouted. "I never get to kill any Orcs."

"And for that the staff are eternally grateful," Arwen said with a laugh. "They have enough to worry about with your brother attacking them at every turn."

"Why don't you go find him?" Aragorn suggested pointedly. Arwen could feel his hand creeping up her back and shivered with pleasure.

The little girl frowned. "I don't want to. There's a scary lady who keeps trying to make me eat cookies."

Aragorn laughed and poked his daughter lightly. "You love cookies!"

"These are very bad cookies," the child explained solemnly. "I'm scared of them."

Arwen's shoulders shook with mirth. "Éowyn," she muttered, barely containing her laughter. "Just tell her you just had supper and you're not hungry."

"And that you shouldn't eat sweets right before bed," Aragorn chimed in.

"I already did, Ada. She said I was a very un-use-u-al child and she wished her son was more like me."

From somewhere is the confines of Minas Tirith they all heard Elberon yell out "Gondor!". Eldarion's answering cry of "Elendil!" and the crash that followed was enough to make them all cringe.

"Honestly!" Aragorn shook his head. "The child is only four! I didn't raise my son to be some bullying tyrant . . ." With that he was off, crying "Eldarion! Put that pitchfork down IMMEDIATELY!"

The little girl bounced excitedly on her mother's lap. "I want to see, Naneth!"

Arwen rolled her eyes and picked the child up, walking toward the nursery. "Seeing your brother get yelled at isn't an infrequent occurrence, er-elle [little one]. You can see it again tomorrow."

The girl frowned as she was tucked into bed. "He'll be good for Ada's birthday, won't he?"

Arwen smiled and stroked her daughter's fine hair. "You never know."

"Sing for me, Naneth," the little princess commanded. "I can't fall asleep otherwise."

Arwen hummed absently and looked away until the little girl corrected herself. "Please!"

The Queen smiled and began to sing softly, her rich Elven voice pouring out the gentle melody.

"Ai! laurië lantar lassi súrinen

yéni únótimë ve rámar aldaron!

Yéni ve lintë yuldar avánier

mi oromardi lisse-miruvóreva

Andúnë pella, Vardo tellumar

nu luini yassen tintilar i eleni

ómaryo airetári-lírinen."

She paused, and tucked the quilt tightly around her sleeping daughter. As she turned to go, she saw her husband leaning against the doorframe. "That was beautiful."

She ducked her head. "Nothing more than a lullaby."

He took her face in his hands. "It's been a long time since I've heard you sing."

He kissed her softly, and her heartbeat began to build. As his hands reached down her back she suddenly paused and broke away. "Is Eldarion in bed?"

He nodded. She grinned and kissed him again, but this time they were interrupted by a cry of "The House of the Stewards will submit to my rule!" and the anguished shout of a four-year-old woken from his sleep.

Aragorn groaned. "He WAS in bed."

Arwen grabbed a candle from her nightstand and made her way out through the pile of gifts. "I'll just be a minute, meleth."

He laughed. "Whose idea was it to have children?"

She threw the nightshift in his face.

~~~~~~~

By the time Arwen had rounded up Eldarion, convinced him the citadel was not, in fact, under attack, and made sure he was truly asleep, the whole of Minas Tirith was dark. That child will be the death of me, she thought, making her way down the hall.

She was waylaid by Éowyn just outside her chambers. "Arwen!"

She turned, exasperated. "What is it? Is Elberon down?" The Lady of Ithilien nodded. "I'm sorry about Eldarion. I'm afraid we may have let him run a little wild through the years, but I promise that in the future -"

Éowyn waved the elf's apologies aside. "I don't care. Funniest little thing I've seen in years. But -" her face got very excited, "I've spoken to your cooks, and they said I could make my soup for the banquet tomorrow!"

Arwen gulped. "Why - ah -"

The former shieldmaiden grinned. "I know how much you and Aragorn love my cooking, and since it's his one hundredth birthday, I thought it would be a wonderful gift!" She grinned. "And your children are so fond of my cookies, so -"

"Éowyn," she interrupted, wondering if Aragorn had fallen asleep, since he wasn't coming to rescue her, "it sounds lovely." Her friend's face lit up. "Why don't you start planning it now? You'll need a lot of stew for eighty guests."

Éowyn nodded. "All right. Good night!"

Arwen sighed in relief as she rushed off. "Good night."

Upon entering her bedchamber, she found Aragorn at the door, laughing.

She glared. "Thank you for saving me from that, valiant King."

He took her in his arms. "I'll make it up to you."

She reached up and kissed him. Unfortunately, he stumbled into a large bronze oliphaunt at that exact moment, and sent it toppling over.

Arwen winced as it crashed into a table of gifts. To her horror, Imrahil's vase had shattered all over the floor.

Aragorn was bent double. "At least it goes with our color scheme now," he wheezed through his laughter.

She rolled her eyes. "You did that on purpose!"

He held up his hands in surrender. "Can you blame me?"

"I guess not," she laughed, then paused incredulously. "Are you actually WEARING that nightshift?"

He averted his eyes. "It's, well, it's actually quite comfortable."

She grinned wickedly. "Too bad, then, because you won't be wearing it long."

He swept her onto the bed and kissed her. "That's what I was hoping for."

~~~~~~~

Arwen stirred, the left side of her face twitching. She reached up lazily, and found that her entire cheek was coated in wax. She opened her eyes, and, to her horror, saw that she had left the candle burning by her bedside all night.

[A/N: This actually happened to me once.]

She swiftly untangled herself from Aragorn's arms and got out of bed. No sooner had she gone into her dressing room and began clawing the stuff off her face, then a piercing scream rang out from her bedchamber.

She splashed cold water into her face and hurried back in. Aragorn was trying to ward off three excited little children, who were jumping up and down on the bed and singing,

"Eina nostare lle!

Eina nostare lle!

Eina nostare Ada!

Eina nostare lle!"

Elberon, who couldn't pronounce the Elvish words for beans, simply screamed out "Gondor! Gondor!" and he jumped.

Eldarion in particular was very excited. "It snowed, Ada! It snowed last night!"

"Gmph?" Aragorn responded.

Arwen hurried to the window. Just as her son had said, the whole of Minas Tirith was covered in white. "What a strange thing to happen in viresse [March]!"

"Ar - mph - wen . . ." her husband complained, as Elberon went flying and hit him in the head.

She could barely contain her laughter. "Eldarion, why don't you take Elberon and your sister outside to play in the snow?"

The little boy jumped off the bed. "Good idea, Naneth! Come on, troops!" he commanded, and at once the little hellions were gone.

Arwen sat down beside her husband's lumpy form. "Eina nostare, meleth nin." When there was no response, she nudged him playfully. "Get up, you big lug. Don't you want to go play in the snow?"

There was still no movement. She pursed her lips and got ready to whip the warm quilt off of him. Just as she grabbed it, he suddenly swung into a sitting position and threw his arms around her. He kissed her long and hard, taking the surprised Queen off-guard. "Good morning, vanima."

"You're a wily man, Dúnadan," she breathed in his ear.

He grinned. "You have your brothers to thank for that." He stood up and pulled on a tunic. "Speaking of the notorious twins, when are they going to arrive?"

"They're coming with Eómer, I think," she replied, checking her list.

He kissed her on the cheek. "You're a wonderful event planner."

She rolled her eyes, secretly pleased. "Merry, Pippin, and their families got here last night. Cook says we're already out of mushrooms. Sam, Rosie, and their five children should get here this morning. That's everyone, isn't it?"

He finished buttoning his overcoat. "What about my beautiful Queen? When will she stop worrying about the banquet and take time to enjoy her husband's birthday?"

She smiled and walked over to him. "I think I can work that into the schedule."

Just then, there was a sharp knock on the door. Arwen reluctantly let go of him and opened it.

Beregond smiled and bowed. "Master Samwise and his family are here, Your Highness. They wish to present you with gifts."

Aragorn ran his fingers through his hair and took Arwen's arm. "Let us greet them, then." He winked at her. "Let's hope they haven't brought me another nightshift."

Sam, a heavily pregnant Rosie, and five little hobbits waited eagerly for them. Elanor, all of ten years old, curtsied wobbily to the floor. Eight-year-old Frodo bowed solemnly, but all the while kept a wicked grin.

"Hullo, Strider," Sam said cheerfully. "And a Happy Birthday to you!"

Aragorn stepped forward to shake his old friend's hand. "It's been to long, Sam."

"You must come visit more often," Arwen added. Upon looking down, she realized that there were three little hobbits clinging to her skirt.

Rosie grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, my Lady. They're very young."

Four-year-old Merry scowled. "Am not!" To Arwen, he added, "Will you marry me?"

Aragorn laughed and took her arm. "Sorry, my lad. She's already spoken for." He paused. "But my own young children are out in the courtyard, enjoying this wintry weather. Why don't you join them?"

Six-year-old Rose was very solemn. "Will they step on me?"

Arwen laughed and picked up the tiny hobbit. "I don't know about Eldarion, but I'm sure my little girl won't. Why don't we see what she's up to?"

Out in the cold courtyard, Eldarion was busying himself by waging a snowball war with the guards around the White Tree - with the aid, Arwen noticed, of the elder Merry and Pippin. Frodo and his younger brothers gave a shout and ran to join in.

"Look, Naneth!" her daughter cried. "I made a snow-elf!"

Elanor surveyed the creation critically. "It's too big."

Rose was clinging to her older sister. "You're too little, Ellie."

Aragorn turned to his wife and put and arm around her waist. "Just like old times."

"Whatever that means," she laughed, and kissed him. Suddenly the courtyard was not very cold at all.

~~~~~~~

Voices in the banquet hall were raised in merriment and perhaps a bit too much wine. Merry and Pippin were teaching a rousing song to the Rohirrm, who were not fast learners but still very much enjoyed belting it at the top of their voices.

"Ho! Ho! Ho! To the bottle I go!

To stop my heart and heal my woe.

Rain may fall and fans may blow,

And many ales be still to go,

But under a table I will lie,

And let the oliphaunts march by!"

"I suppose they've got the gist of it," Pippin was saying.

"I rather like their version better," added Merry.

Further down the table, Elladan and Elrohir were sharing extremely amusing childhood anecdotes about the shameful behavior of the King and Queen. Sam was telling a few of the Tower Guards about the bravery and fortitude of the magnificent Mr. Frodo, while Rosie, Diamond, and Estella shared greatly exaggerated stories about their respective husbands' roles in the Battle of Bywater.

"Arwen," Aragorn whispered in her ear, "I know you worked hard getting this party together, but if I stay here one more minute I fear I'll go mad."

She laughed. "I was waiting for you to say that." Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "What say we make an escape?"

He grabbed her hand. "No one's watching."

She laughed merrily and let him lead her out to the courtyard. They collapsed on a stone bench, welcoming the relative silence.

Their daughter's snow-elf from earlier that morning stared at them from its perch near the White Tree. "Close your eyes," Arwen whispered.

Aragorn did as he was told. In a few minutes, Arwen tapped his shoulder.

He opened them up and saw a snowman standing hand-in-hand with the elf. Both wore lopsided crowns and haggard but loving expressions.

She grinned and kissed him lightly. "What do you think?"

He took her in his arms. "I never knew you had such a talent."

She raised one eyebrow. "I have many talents."

"So I'm familiar with." He kissed her softly, their lips growing warm in spite of the snow. Arwen felt her cheeks flush pink with pleasure as he held her in his arms.

She laid her head on his shoulder as they watched the sun dip into the West. The sunset was beautiful against the snow; an array of glistening pinks and golds, but it wasn't the sunset that Aragorn looked with so much wonderment in his eyes.

She snuggled close to him on the cold stone bench. "Eina nostare, meleth nin. And a hundred more to come."

He kissed the top of her head. "But none will be more magical than this."

She leaned her forehead against his. "You never know."

~~~THE END~~~