A r w e n e l l a
Hello there. Again, thanks for all the reviews you've been leaving me! You have no idea how special you're making me feel! Thank you all so much, I'd like to ask you please to keep it up, with this chapter and the couple more chapters to come! Enjoy!
Once again...I am bored. So I will get to work on this chapter, even though (like before), I have absolutely no idea where to start writing, and what to write. But that's where the fun part comes in- imagining as you go along. All hail the dreamers! .::Meggin::.
IMPORTANT NOTE: I will be traveling to visit my aunt in Pennsylvania, so I will not be able to work on the last couple of chapters for a while- but I will be back! I think the longest time I will be away is a couple of weeks. I'd like to ask you all to be patient, and keep reviewing while I'm gone! (Meanwhile, check out my OTHER stories. :) Thanks!
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Chapter Nine- The Evenstar
Arwen brushed away the tears that trickled down her cheeks, trying to be inconspicuous.
"What's wrong?" Aragorn asked, shifting his eyes over to where Arwen sat on her horse.
She sighed, avoiding eye contact. "I shouldn't have left him like that. So quickly."
Aragorn shook his head. "You had to. You said so yourself, you had to get home before your stepfamily."
"I know, it's just...I wish I could've had more time. Plus, I dropped my pendant while I was trying to get away." She touched her bare neck. "I must get it back. If Legolas has found it, he'll probably use it to find me."
"That's exactly what he's going to do, if he fancies you," Aragorn agreed, dismounting his horse and tying the reins around a tree. There was a strange hint of jealousy in his voice. "After all, that was the whole purpose of the Ball. Thranduil wants to marry off his son to a suitable maiden."
Arwen dismounted in silence. Was she ready to marry? They had only met last night. They had only spent time with each other for a mere hour. Did she like him? Yes. Love him? She wasn't sure.
It was 6:00 in the morning, and the two were stopping for a quick breakfast before they headed on back home to Rivendell. Arwen went off to collect the firewood, and Aragorn departed to hunt some food. A dim sun was in the sky, and a chill air was lingering.
After gathering a heap of firewood, Arwen made her way back to the area, clumsily dropping her pile halfway along the path. She stooped down, gathered her collection, and continued.
Clumsy, clumsy. What a shock you will be at the ball. Delia's snotty voice interrupted her thoughts. Out of all the flashbacks, she had to have that one. Arwen crinkled her nose at the memory.
Aragorn had caught a brace of conies, and already had the suitable materials to start brewing it. He was on the ground, polishing his precious sword, the conies carelessly strewn beside him. "Oh, good, you're back," he said, at the sight of Arwen. She dumped the firewood in the center, and the ranger soon had a warm fire going.
Arwen sat on a log, biting her fingernails in nervousness. Once Legolas found her, he would surely propose to her. What would she say? How embarrassing it would be to reject him. What a reward it would be to marry him! Only problem was, she was torn between the two decisions.
"Are you done yet?" she groaned pathetically to Aragorn. "I'm starving."
There was silence from the turned back of the ranger. "Yeah," he finally said. He turned around and handed Arwen a steaming bowl of soup. "I'm not very much of cook, but it will have to do."
"Neither am I," Arwen joked. She accepted the bowl gratefully and started eating. As Aragorn withdrew his hand, she noticed an angry red burn on his palm. "Aragorn!" she exclaimed, her mind filling with worry. "You're hurt!" She gestured to his hand.
"It's nothing," Aragorn said uncomfortably. "I merely burned myself while lifting the pot."
"Well, it must be tended to!" Arwen replied, almost angrily. For the moment, this was a very big deal. She scanned the environment, and pulled out some herbs from the ground. Athelas. The healer's weed. After heating some water over the fire, she sprinkled in the pinched herbs, creating a soothing broth. Carefully, taking the veil she used to cover her face, she dipped the cloth in the substance. "Give me your hand."
Aragorn almost rolled his eyes, but he obeyed. She took his hand in hers, and inspected the burn, rubbing the cloth over it. He winced.
She tore the cloth in half, and used the dry part to gently wrap his hand. "Is that better?" she asked him, after tying it off. Hesitantly, she let go of his hand.
"Yes." he smiled. "Thank you, Arwen, even though I could have done it myself."
She blushed.
"But I appreciate it," he quickly added, laughing. "The job would have been better off anyway in the hands of an elven maiden."
After breakfast, the pair were on their steeds and ready to continue. Morning though it was, Arwen was tired and couldn't help falling asleep once more.
She was roused by a familiar voice. She cracked open her eyes. It was Aragorn, singing the same song on the two lovers, Beren and Lúthien. It was lovely to listen to. Arwen closed her eyes once more, paying closer attention to the words. She shivered.
Aragorn saw, and stopped singing. He trotted over to where Arwen was sitting, took off his cloak, and laid it gently around her shoulders. Thinking she was asleep, he ran his finger gently down her cheek, stroking her, almost lulling her to sleep.
"Tinúviel," he whispered under his breath.
.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.
It was precisely 7:00 in the morning. Delia and the others were expected about an hour later.
Arwen stepped up to her door and knocked, Aragorn at her heels. It was answered by Lorain, who greeted them both with a warm smile.
"Arwen! My Lady, you're back!" She eagerly hugged her friend. Her eyes averted to the ruggedy man beside her. Raising an interested eyebrow, she coughed. "And who's this?"
"Oh! Um, Lorain, this is Aragorn, a wonderful ranger I met in the woods. He is a friend of Father's, and of my brothers. He accompanied me to the ball, because...er...I kind of got lost in the way. And Aragorn, this is Lorain, a servant in the household, but a good friend of mine."
Aragorn tilted his head in greeting, and Lorain curtsied. "A pleasure to have you here! Well, come in!"
"I must change back to my regular clothes," Arwen said hurriedly, rushing down the stairs into her chamber. "Before the others come. They must not know I have attended the ball. Is the palace clean and in order?"
Lorain nodded. "Everything is taken care of."
"Will you show Aragorn to the living room?" Arwen whispered. "Prepare him some food, and a drink. He had done so much."
"Of course, Arwen." Lorain smiled and left the room.
Arwen quickly showered and dressed in her usual servant rags. She stared at herself in the mirror, and decided to rub some soot into her cheeks. That gave the impression she had slept by the fireplace- she was merely a pathetic servant, after all.
Lorain came back in the room, her smile beaming from ear to ear. "He is a wonderful man!" she exclaimed. "How fortunate you are to meet him along the way. He must have been a terrific companion."
Arwen laughed. "Yes, he is. Most certainly."
"So!" Lorain plopped herself down beside where Arwen was seated. "How was it? The Ball, I mean?"
"It was...spectacular," Arwen murmured, gaining a far away look in her eyes. "And at the same time, quite confusing. I mean...it didn't turn out the way I thought it would be. But it was all...wonderful. The dance in woods..." Her hand lingered to her neck. "It was almost magical. Legolas, he is...interesting." She looked at Lorain. "He will be finding me soon, I know it. I don't know whether I'm ready to marry him or not."
Lorain stared at her blankly. "Lady. What does your heart tell you?"
Arwen stared into her lap, and sighed. "I don't know." She looked up at into Lorain's eyes, a pleading in her voice, for understanding. "I think I'm in love with someone else."
"You're certainly seeking advice from the wrong person. I- don't know what to say, Lady. "
"Neither do I."
The two sat in silence, delved into thought.
"Arwen." Lorain took out an envelope from her pocket. "I don't know what I can do to console you, but this certainly will cheer you up. A letter from your Father, Lord Elrond has arrived today."
"Another letter!" Arwen exclaimed greedily. "May I see it?"
"Certainly!" Lorain laughed. "It's addressed to you."
Arwen ripped the envelope and pulled out the letter within. It better be good this time, Father, she thought to herself, scanning the page.
Dear Arwen,
This brief piece of correspondence is one I thought would make you happy. I write in haste, for I depart in merely a few minutes.
The hobbits here in the Shire are fully healed. Thanks to the reinforcements that were sent out a few days ago, many hands made idle work. The ill ones are in excellent condition. The elvish medicine has treated them well.
I will be back home in a few weeks, Arwen. I have found it quite lonely here without Lady Uggalflaed, and the stepdaughters...but most especially, you, my love. I hope they are treating you well, for if they are not (which I doubt), I shall throw a terrible fit. (You have seen me when I am angry, have you not?)
We shall be reunited soon. Take care.
Your honorable Father,
Elrond
Arwen smiled. "Lorain, this is great news! Father is coming back home!" She leapt to her feet, and twirled in circles. "Finally! He's coming home!"
"That's wonderful!" Lorain laughed. "He will stop all this nonsense, once and for all! Once he sees what they have been doing to you..." her voice filled with anger and hatred.
Arwen laughed. "Yes, he will put an end to it all."
.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.
"Arwen!" The familiar voice of none other than Delia filled the air. "Arwen!" She slammed the door behind her. "Where is that Cinder girl?"
"I'm here." Arwen rushed out, breathless. "How was the Ball?"
"Oh shut up, you filth." Delia paused, then sighed, falling into the same trance-like state that happened whenever she was around her poster. "I got my first dance with the Prince! Can you believe it?"
"That's wonderful," Arwen exclaimed, a little too loudly.
Delia peered at her, suspicious. "What are you so cheerful about?"
"Oh, nothing," Arwen replied gleefully. "Where are the others?"
Delia sniffed the air in a dignified way. "They are coming."
Primrose banged into the palace in a rather dramatic way. Delia jumped up in shock.
"PRIMROSE, WILL YOU STOP BEING SO LOUD?!" Delia yelled, stomping her feet.
"Look who's talking," Primrose retorted. She waved a thick piece of parchment in the air, the way she did when she was excited. "Look! Another urgent letter from the Palace of Mirkwood! Except this time...it's from Legolas himself!"
Delia shrieked. Primrose cackled evilly and hopped about, holding the parchment high above her head, while her stepsister tried to catch it, hopelessly.
"Primrose, give me that!" Delia commanded through gritted teeth. "Give me that now!"
Arwen laughed, highly amused. Primrose had always been slightly taller than her sister.
Delia tripped on her skirts and fell, face down. "BOOOOHOOOOOOOO!" she wailed, holding her nose. "Aaaah! You broke my nose!"
"No I did not," Primrose replied. "It's just bleeding." She sat on the stairs and opened the envelope. "Arwen, come look at this! Quick!" she gestured to the letter while Arwen rushed over.
ATTENTION! VERY SUPER DUPER IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT!!!!
I will be scouting Rivendell for a maiden I must meet. The only artifact
she has left behind from the Ball is a crystal pendant. If you own this, please
step forward as I search briefly through your household.
Thank you for your cooperation.
Sincerely,
Prince Legolas Greenleaf
"He's coming over," Arwen exclaimed. "Oh no. What do I do?" she murmured to herself.
"What?" Primrose asked, confused. "Don't worry about it. I don't even own such a pendant. I doubt Delia owns one too."
Delia hobbled forward, still clutching her nose, and snatched the letter from Primrose's hands. She read it, and shrieked, even louder this time.
"OH MY GOODNESS, LIKE, LIKE, LIKE, LEGOLAS IS COMING OVER!" Delia swooned, collapsing onto her knees.
"Aw, come on, Delia, cut the dramatics," Primrose moaned. Delia lay motionless on the floor.
"She's fainted," Arwen stated quietly.
"Talk about obsessed," Primrose remarked, rolling her eyes.
Aragorn entered the room, eating an ice cream cone. He stopped at the sight of Delia. "Is...there something wrong?" he asked, worriedly.
"Just leave her there," Primrose replied, folding up the letter. Arwen laughed.
The three sat on the stairs, watching the time tick away. Thirty minute passed.
"I wonder when he's coming?" Arwen asked, sighing. "There's nothing to do. The chores are finished."
"I hope Delia sleeps through it all," Primrose snorted. "Obviously, the Prince and herself were not 'destined to be together', as she keeps blabbering to her stupid poster."
A loud knock came from the door.
"It's him!" Arwen whispered.
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Please review! I'll try to write the rest of the chapters as soon as possible, once I'm back from my travels. Enjoy! .::Meggin::.
Hello there. Again, thanks for all the reviews you've been leaving me! You have no idea how special you're making me feel! Thank you all so much, I'd like to ask you please to keep it up, with this chapter and the couple more chapters to come! Enjoy!
Once again...I am bored. So I will get to work on this chapter, even though (like before), I have absolutely no idea where to start writing, and what to write. But that's where the fun part comes in- imagining as you go along. All hail the dreamers! .::Meggin::.
IMPORTANT NOTE: I will be traveling to visit my aunt in Pennsylvania, so I will not be able to work on the last couple of chapters for a while- but I will be back! I think the longest time I will be away is a couple of weeks. I'd like to ask you all to be patient, and keep reviewing while I'm gone! (Meanwhile, check out my OTHER stories. :) Thanks!
-------------------------------------------------
Chapter Nine- The Evenstar
Arwen brushed away the tears that trickled down her cheeks, trying to be inconspicuous.
"What's wrong?" Aragorn asked, shifting his eyes over to where Arwen sat on her horse.
She sighed, avoiding eye contact. "I shouldn't have left him like that. So quickly."
Aragorn shook his head. "You had to. You said so yourself, you had to get home before your stepfamily."
"I know, it's just...I wish I could've had more time. Plus, I dropped my pendant while I was trying to get away." She touched her bare neck. "I must get it back. If Legolas has found it, he'll probably use it to find me."
"That's exactly what he's going to do, if he fancies you," Aragorn agreed, dismounting his horse and tying the reins around a tree. There was a strange hint of jealousy in his voice. "After all, that was the whole purpose of the Ball. Thranduil wants to marry off his son to a suitable maiden."
Arwen dismounted in silence. Was she ready to marry? They had only met last night. They had only spent time with each other for a mere hour. Did she like him? Yes. Love him? She wasn't sure.
It was 6:00 in the morning, and the two were stopping for a quick breakfast before they headed on back home to Rivendell. Arwen went off to collect the firewood, and Aragorn departed to hunt some food. A dim sun was in the sky, and a chill air was lingering.
After gathering a heap of firewood, Arwen made her way back to the area, clumsily dropping her pile halfway along the path. She stooped down, gathered her collection, and continued.
Clumsy, clumsy. What a shock you will be at the ball. Delia's snotty voice interrupted her thoughts. Out of all the flashbacks, she had to have that one. Arwen crinkled her nose at the memory.
Aragorn had caught a brace of conies, and already had the suitable materials to start brewing it. He was on the ground, polishing his precious sword, the conies carelessly strewn beside him. "Oh, good, you're back," he said, at the sight of Arwen. She dumped the firewood in the center, and the ranger soon had a warm fire going.
Arwen sat on a log, biting her fingernails in nervousness. Once Legolas found her, he would surely propose to her. What would she say? How embarrassing it would be to reject him. What a reward it would be to marry him! Only problem was, she was torn between the two decisions.
"Are you done yet?" she groaned pathetically to Aragorn. "I'm starving."
There was silence from the turned back of the ranger. "Yeah," he finally said. He turned around and handed Arwen a steaming bowl of soup. "I'm not very much of cook, but it will have to do."
"Neither am I," Arwen joked. She accepted the bowl gratefully and started eating. As Aragorn withdrew his hand, she noticed an angry red burn on his palm. "Aragorn!" she exclaimed, her mind filling with worry. "You're hurt!" She gestured to his hand.
"It's nothing," Aragorn said uncomfortably. "I merely burned myself while lifting the pot."
"Well, it must be tended to!" Arwen replied, almost angrily. For the moment, this was a very big deal. She scanned the environment, and pulled out some herbs from the ground. Athelas. The healer's weed. After heating some water over the fire, she sprinkled in the pinched herbs, creating a soothing broth. Carefully, taking the veil she used to cover her face, she dipped the cloth in the substance. "Give me your hand."
Aragorn almost rolled his eyes, but he obeyed. She took his hand in hers, and inspected the burn, rubbing the cloth over it. He winced.
She tore the cloth in half, and used the dry part to gently wrap his hand. "Is that better?" she asked him, after tying it off. Hesitantly, she let go of his hand.
"Yes." he smiled. "Thank you, Arwen, even though I could have done it myself."
She blushed.
"But I appreciate it," he quickly added, laughing. "The job would have been better off anyway in the hands of an elven maiden."
After breakfast, the pair were on their steeds and ready to continue. Morning though it was, Arwen was tired and couldn't help falling asleep once more.
She was roused by a familiar voice. She cracked open her eyes. It was Aragorn, singing the same song on the two lovers, Beren and Lúthien. It was lovely to listen to. Arwen closed her eyes once more, paying closer attention to the words. She shivered.
Aragorn saw, and stopped singing. He trotted over to where Arwen was sitting, took off his cloak, and laid it gently around her shoulders. Thinking she was asleep, he ran his finger gently down her cheek, stroking her, almost lulling her to sleep.
"Tinúviel," he whispered under his breath.
.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.
It was precisely 7:00 in the morning. Delia and the others were expected about an hour later.
Arwen stepped up to her door and knocked, Aragorn at her heels. It was answered by Lorain, who greeted them both with a warm smile.
"Arwen! My Lady, you're back!" She eagerly hugged her friend. Her eyes averted to the ruggedy man beside her. Raising an interested eyebrow, she coughed. "And who's this?"
"Oh! Um, Lorain, this is Aragorn, a wonderful ranger I met in the woods. He is a friend of Father's, and of my brothers. He accompanied me to the ball, because...er...I kind of got lost in the way. And Aragorn, this is Lorain, a servant in the household, but a good friend of mine."
Aragorn tilted his head in greeting, and Lorain curtsied. "A pleasure to have you here! Well, come in!"
"I must change back to my regular clothes," Arwen said hurriedly, rushing down the stairs into her chamber. "Before the others come. They must not know I have attended the ball. Is the palace clean and in order?"
Lorain nodded. "Everything is taken care of."
"Will you show Aragorn to the living room?" Arwen whispered. "Prepare him some food, and a drink. He had done so much."
"Of course, Arwen." Lorain smiled and left the room.
Arwen quickly showered and dressed in her usual servant rags. She stared at herself in the mirror, and decided to rub some soot into her cheeks. That gave the impression she had slept by the fireplace- she was merely a pathetic servant, after all.
Lorain came back in the room, her smile beaming from ear to ear. "He is a wonderful man!" she exclaimed. "How fortunate you are to meet him along the way. He must have been a terrific companion."
Arwen laughed. "Yes, he is. Most certainly."
"So!" Lorain plopped herself down beside where Arwen was seated. "How was it? The Ball, I mean?"
"It was...spectacular," Arwen murmured, gaining a far away look in her eyes. "And at the same time, quite confusing. I mean...it didn't turn out the way I thought it would be. But it was all...wonderful. The dance in woods..." Her hand lingered to her neck. "It was almost magical. Legolas, he is...interesting." She looked at Lorain. "He will be finding me soon, I know it. I don't know whether I'm ready to marry him or not."
Lorain stared at her blankly. "Lady. What does your heart tell you?"
Arwen stared into her lap, and sighed. "I don't know." She looked up at into Lorain's eyes, a pleading in her voice, for understanding. "I think I'm in love with someone else."
"You're certainly seeking advice from the wrong person. I- don't know what to say, Lady. "
"Neither do I."
The two sat in silence, delved into thought.
"Arwen." Lorain took out an envelope from her pocket. "I don't know what I can do to console you, but this certainly will cheer you up. A letter from your Father, Lord Elrond has arrived today."
"Another letter!" Arwen exclaimed greedily. "May I see it?"
"Certainly!" Lorain laughed. "It's addressed to you."
Arwen ripped the envelope and pulled out the letter within. It better be good this time, Father, she thought to herself, scanning the page.
Dear Arwen,
This brief piece of correspondence is one I thought would make you happy. I write in haste, for I depart in merely a few minutes.
The hobbits here in the Shire are fully healed. Thanks to the reinforcements that were sent out a few days ago, many hands made idle work. The ill ones are in excellent condition. The elvish medicine has treated them well.
I will be back home in a few weeks, Arwen. I have found it quite lonely here without Lady Uggalflaed, and the stepdaughters...but most especially, you, my love. I hope they are treating you well, for if they are not (which I doubt), I shall throw a terrible fit. (You have seen me when I am angry, have you not?)
We shall be reunited soon. Take care.
Your honorable Father,
Elrond
Arwen smiled. "Lorain, this is great news! Father is coming back home!" She leapt to her feet, and twirled in circles. "Finally! He's coming home!"
"That's wonderful!" Lorain laughed. "He will stop all this nonsense, once and for all! Once he sees what they have been doing to you..." her voice filled with anger and hatred.
Arwen laughed. "Yes, he will put an end to it all."
.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.
"Arwen!" The familiar voice of none other than Delia filled the air. "Arwen!" She slammed the door behind her. "Where is that Cinder girl?"
"I'm here." Arwen rushed out, breathless. "How was the Ball?"
"Oh shut up, you filth." Delia paused, then sighed, falling into the same trance-like state that happened whenever she was around her poster. "I got my first dance with the Prince! Can you believe it?"
"That's wonderful," Arwen exclaimed, a little too loudly.
Delia peered at her, suspicious. "What are you so cheerful about?"
"Oh, nothing," Arwen replied gleefully. "Where are the others?"
Delia sniffed the air in a dignified way. "They are coming."
Primrose banged into the palace in a rather dramatic way. Delia jumped up in shock.
"PRIMROSE, WILL YOU STOP BEING SO LOUD?!" Delia yelled, stomping her feet.
"Look who's talking," Primrose retorted. She waved a thick piece of parchment in the air, the way she did when she was excited. "Look! Another urgent letter from the Palace of Mirkwood! Except this time...it's from Legolas himself!"
Delia shrieked. Primrose cackled evilly and hopped about, holding the parchment high above her head, while her stepsister tried to catch it, hopelessly.
"Primrose, give me that!" Delia commanded through gritted teeth. "Give me that now!"
Arwen laughed, highly amused. Primrose had always been slightly taller than her sister.
Delia tripped on her skirts and fell, face down. "BOOOOHOOOOOOOO!" she wailed, holding her nose. "Aaaah! You broke my nose!"
"No I did not," Primrose replied. "It's just bleeding." She sat on the stairs and opened the envelope. "Arwen, come look at this! Quick!" she gestured to the letter while Arwen rushed over.
ATTENTION! VERY SUPER DUPER IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT!!!!
I will be scouting Rivendell for a maiden I must meet. The only artifact
she has left behind from the Ball is a crystal pendant. If you own this, please
step forward as I search briefly through your household.
Thank you for your cooperation.
Sincerely,
Prince Legolas Greenleaf
"He's coming over," Arwen exclaimed. "Oh no. What do I do?" she murmured to herself.
"What?" Primrose asked, confused. "Don't worry about it. I don't even own such a pendant. I doubt Delia owns one too."
Delia hobbled forward, still clutching her nose, and snatched the letter from Primrose's hands. She read it, and shrieked, even louder this time.
"OH MY GOODNESS, LIKE, LIKE, LIKE, LEGOLAS IS COMING OVER!" Delia swooned, collapsing onto her knees.
"Aw, come on, Delia, cut the dramatics," Primrose moaned. Delia lay motionless on the floor.
"She's fainted," Arwen stated quietly.
"Talk about obsessed," Primrose remarked, rolling her eyes.
Aragorn entered the room, eating an ice cream cone. He stopped at the sight of Delia. "Is...there something wrong?" he asked, worriedly.
"Just leave her there," Primrose replied, folding up the letter. Arwen laughed.
The three sat on the stairs, watching the time tick away. Thirty minute passed.
"I wonder when he's coming?" Arwen asked, sighing. "There's nothing to do. The chores are finished."
"I hope Delia sleeps through it all," Primrose snorted. "Obviously, the Prince and herself were not 'destined to be together', as she keeps blabbering to her stupid poster."
A loud knock came from the door.
"It's him!" Arwen whispered.
---------------------------------------------------------
Please review! I'll try to write the rest of the chapters as soon as possible, once I'm back from my travels. Enjoy! .::Meggin::.