Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR. I am simply borrowing it. But I do own the poem in the beginning. There, I own something. Yaaaaay!!!
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All right. This happens AFTER LOTR! That means that the last ship had left with Frodo & co, that Aragorn and Arwen are already married, and that the shire is all the same as it was before.
This is set about two months after LOTR.
Song of Evenstar
Chapter 3: Old Threads
Chained wonders, subtle rising
Of the sunlight in the east.
Freedom wanders, freedom saunters
Through darkness and the blight.
Freedom come now, freedom fly now.
Freedom soar... freedom be.
Chained wonders singing softly,
Their tune unheard to life.
Subtle changes in the mountains,
Smallest ripples in the sea.
Unnoticed are the wonders often,
The wonders and the beauty of this life.
Chained wonders, singing softly.
Chained tunes, imprisoned love.
Watch slowly, faithful wanderer.
As the sun sets its rays for the night.
Chained it goes, round the world tomorrow.
Chained it sings, tunes of grief and sorrow.
Chained is love, chained is hate.
Freedom free, freedom... chained.
ArwenThe cool wind brushed her cheeks, ebony locks fluttering about her pale face. Blue eyes gazed to the sea, searching for a way, searching for a hope. Old threads... her old threads were tangled. Lost. Forgotten.
Gondor had returned to peace, the villagers were beginning to rebuild their lives, light their fires once again. They were learning to laugh again, to enjoy life, to find the greatest delight in the simplest of pleasures...
But they had not suffered as she.
That was selfish. Many of these women had lost their husbands, their lovers, their sons or their brothers. And who was she to say they had suffered less so? Who was she, to place herself above each soul, to allow arrogance to take hold, to take control?
She was the queen of Gondor, and Estel her king.
Undomiel shook her head, feeling tears flow freely from her eyes, down her cheeks. It was too late to go across the sea now. Her father was gone. Galadriel was gone. Her brothers were gone.
Arwen was the last remaining of the Elven kind in Middle-Earth. The last of her kin, the last Evenstar.
She had her love, she had her happiness. So why wasn't she happy?
Grey eyes watched her from a dark corner, and at length their owner came to the balcony and wrapped his arms about her.
"Estel..." she breathed, relishing his touch.
"Come in, Arwen," was his reply, "We must speak."
His voice was cold and hard, almost painful, though his touch warm and loving. Arwen nodded and, casting one last glance to the east, turned and followed Aragorn inside.
Their room was richly furnished: Curtains of silver thread, golden sheets and the softest bed in all of Middle-Earth. Small statues surrounded the room, and paintings. Two closets stood on opposite sides; one for the king and one for the queen. Arwen knew that within hers were the most elegant gowns, the most expensive dresses, although the queen preferred simple gowns.
Aragorn bade her to sit beside him on the bed, and held her hands, his expression grave.
"Arwen..." he whispered grievously, "I love you..."
She turned to gaze into the depths of his gray eyes, finding sanctuary there as she breathlessly murmured her reply.
"And I love you... You know that, Estel..."
"Arwen. I am the king of Gondor. I have duties that call me elsewhere."
His eyes dimmed, and Arwen was suddenly shut from her haven. Aragorn's eyes were mirrors... perfect mirrors that reflected all around him... but did not let anything inside.
"Estel...?"
He gripped her hands tighter.
"Sauron is defeated, Mordor crumpled. The orcs have fled. But bands of the vile creatures still raid the villages near to the broken black gate. And Arwen... the Nazgul have faded. The power of the rings has been relinquished. But strange occurrences have been reported to have happened near Osgiliath, and along the shores of the Anduin that cannot have been caused by mere orcs or trolls or any of Mordor's vileness... save the rings. Faramir and myself shall lead an army to destroy the remainder of the orcs, and to find the causes of these peculiarities."
Arwen stared at him a moment, absorbing what he had just said.
"W-when do you leave?" she managed to whisper.
Aragorn stroked her cheek, and Arwen closed her eyes at his touch.
"In two dawns, mela."
She opened her eyes, her gaze set and firm, her expression suddenly solemn.
"I am going with you."
Aragorn shook his head sadly.
"Nay, love. It is too dangerous a task, scouring Mordor. 'Tis a vile land... 'Tis too dangerous."
"I can fight!"
"No." His voice was firm, almost angry. It frightened Arwen, and she stared at him, eyes watering in fear. He had never spoken to her like that. Had never raised his tone so... so...
Aragorn caressed her hands softly, lowering his tone to a soft whisper again.
"No... Faramir shall not allow Eowyn to follow, for the danger is too great. And I shall not let you come either." He looked into her eyes, the mirrors gone, his gaze soft and loving. "I can't lose you, Arwen. Not now, not ever."
Arwen nodded, and sighed, her breath shaking and her eyes watering.
Aragorn gently raised her chin with his hand and gazed into the depths of his wife's eyes.
"I love you, Arwen. I will not allow anything to happen to you."
And slowly, gently, he pressed his lips to hers, loving her with all his might, trying to forget what could not be forgotten, trying to rid himself of what he did not wish to be.
Twilight – two dawns in time.
ArwenIt was time to bid farewell to the men. Arwen kissed Estel lovingly as he said his final good-byes, whispering in her ear his parting words.
"I love you..." he had murmured, and mounted his steed.
But Arwen did not intend to stay behind. She turned swiftly around, walking quickly through the winding halls to her room, where she knew Eowyn was already waiting.
Indeed, as she entered, the fair shield-maiden of Rohan stood by the balcony, gazing at the assembling army. As soon as Arwen closed the door, Eowyn turned and smiled.
"Are you ready?" she asked.
Arwen smiled and nodded. She and Eowyn had become great friends after Arwen and Aragorn's marriage. Arwen forgave the maiden for loving Estel, and in time they came to be as close as sisters. When Faramir and Eowyn argued, the shield-maiden came to cry on Arwen's shoulder. When Aragorn was too busy with reconstructing the city to spend time with Arwen, Eowyn provided her company and reassurance.
Now, their husbands were leaving for Mordor, on a quest surely none would survive. And they expected their wives to remain at home?
No...
Arwen went to her closet, and Eowyn took Estel's. Their clothing was already prepared.
Eowyn had dressed as a man and gone to war once... she'd do it again with ease. But Arwen hadn't. She didn't know what it was like to sit in armor, wearing breeches, and wave a sword around, shouting battle cries.
As Arwen pulled on her breeches, she felt a pang of envy towards the men. They were able to wear these comfortable trappings, while women were forced to don itchy, heavy dresses that one had to lift as one rose up stairs? How unfair...
Her shirt was comfortable, light, and loose. Her belt, leather, strapped around her breeches comfortably as well. Then came a leather vest, and additional breeches of leather.
When she stepped out of the closet, Arwen was dressed in mail and armor, a sword at her belt and arrows at her back. Eowyn smiled at her. Perfect. The shield-maiden was dressed the same: heavy armor, leather vest, mail... and a helmet. Arwen grasped hers and donned the metal thing. She didn't need to trim her hair; most men bore theirs long. But she would have to hide her elven ears.
Tucking the delicate ears behind her helmet, Arwen smiled weakly.
"I am ready."
Their horses were ready as well; two proud brown steeds, saddled and armored. Arwen mounted hers as Eowyn jumped on the other.
The two women looked at each other momentarily, and exchanged reassuring smiles. Then, urging their steeds to the gathering army, kept their heads down and their faces hidden as the ranks poured from the stone foundations of Minas Tirith.
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I didn't like this chapter very much, but trust me, it had to be done. I was having a VERY bad writing day when I wrote Aragorn's explanation of what the heck they were going to do in Mordor... sorry. It's not very important... just the fluff that comes with it. THAT'S important. But you get what I'm attempting to say here, right? RIGHT?
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