4

Eoywn's POV

I did not know how to look at her that morning. She got dressed calmly, myself studiously attempting to avoid gazing at her unclothed form. Curiosity won out. My fantasy had been correct; she was every bit as luscious as I had dreamed. Quickly dropping my gaze before she noticed, I returned to my readying. Soon we were both dressed and heading to the hall. My Uncle sat on the throne, seemingly shrunken in his great furs. Aragorn continued to rail at him for not protecting the land. Anger blazed in my uncle's eyes but he remained silent. He knew the ranger was right. I studied Aragorn by light of day. Rugged and beautiful still but I felt myself notice for the first time Legolas' glances toward him, making excuses to touch, to be near each other.

As we sat for lunch the elf whispered something in Aragorn's ear. The future king of Gondor shook his head in dissent although it seemed to take a great act of will to do so. Théoden and Gandalf were engaged in a discussion and Arwen was looking intently at the silverware. I continued to watch the pair in awe as Legolas repeated the phrase again and licked Aragorn's earlobe. Eyes mischievous, Aragorn rose and apologized for having to leave but there was an urgent situation he had forgotten on the walls. The elf merely smiled. They left the room together, almost racing for the doors. How could I have been so blind?

The elfin princess had now progressed from studying the silverware to the edge of the plates. There was nothing special about them to hold her attention so. I finally caught her gaze and saw stark pain in her eyes. How someone could hurt and not show it in her visage amazed me. To her evident surprise I suggested we take a walk. We left the hall and walked into the forest. Never gifted at being subtle I stopped and bluntly said, "How do you feel about me?"

"I do not understand your question"

"Lady Arwen..." a glare on her part made me drop the title. I continued: "Arwen, I need to know in what manner you look upon me."

"I cannot think of words to fully explain it."

"On the contrary", I argued, "I think you know very well how to phrase it."

"Words do not suffice"

I looked at her for a long moment and then my eyes widened in shock and she swiftly moved forward and placed her hands on my face, drawing me to her. The kiss was cut short as I backed away from her, putting my hands in between us. The passion and love in Arwen's face disappeared. I had betrayed her, lured her into thinking I cared for her. This was a hurt I could never undo. She shoved me further away from her, even as I was scrambling backwards.

"What the fuck do you want from me?" She yelled.

Subdued, I mumbled, "I don't know"

My head down, I finished lamely, "I don't like girls"

"You could have fooled me!" With that parting shot she left. Disappearing into the forest. Even through my despair and shame I found her movements graceful, each step perfectly economizing the stress put on it, I could watch her for hours.

I cleared my head of such thoughts. What had I done? I wanted to keep her as a friend, and surely that would not be possible if I became her lover. Why was I thinking this? I don't like her that way. Images of the object of my despair sprang unbidden to mind. Apparently my body and my will disagreed. I wanted her as a friend. Part of me wished to run after her and beg her for forgiveness. She can never love me after this. Aragorn, she loves Aragorn. She does not care for me. I wandered through the forest in ever deepening sorrow. Random bits of sadness and insanity laced through my mind.

"I can walk here and pretend for all eternity that I'm not miserable and that I don't hate myself most of all, but then again I relish this for I love everyone who ever has hurt me. Yes, the person I truly love has hurt me more than anything in the world. I want to go away. I want to die. I want to kill. I want me and no one else to intrude upon my miserable solitude, and why can't I just have the courage to end it all. You and your fucking martyr syndrome, you think it would be better and I'd be happy, after all I'm a machoistic little bitch. Smile smile, the more you hurt the happier you are, you will never get better because I don't want to. I revel in society's idea of me. My misery is my only companion. No one wants me. I'm numb and no one even fucking notices, shouldn't they notice my misery. Shut up. Why would they, why should anyone ever care about a sniveling miserable piece of shit like you, who has no worth and no one cares about. The greatest love stems from pain. I was not made for love, I was made for suffering. Savoring my misery and the misery it causes in turn is the only thing I live for. There's nothing else, no one to love me besides a casual companionship. Here is the root of the problem, how ever many times I tell myself I don't care, it still hurts, everything hurts. I want everything to go away. Why can't I go away and get a new chance, after all that's suicide. Go the fuck away .why do I feel the need to validate my existence by putting my pain in coherent words and thoughts? Perhaps once I bleed dry I will feel better. No, I'd prefer some pain, the endless hurt, to having this numb nothing that is myself. Yes, now I'm sure. Nothing is wrong nothing is wrong. I hate being questioned, even by myself. I like to be alone. My grief, I want to go away, after all that's what is at my waist, a knife, my knife, and nothingness nothingness nothingness. Arwen has not found me yet; no one had searched me out. I am sure it is not because she doesn't care. She knows. So at least Arwen understands my pain. She knows I like to be alone in my grief. Why does the one person who if they went away it would fix everything, (and yes it would fix everything,). Knife, and fire, burn pain and goddess. No I won't ask for help now. Goddess won't stop me because she knows in a way this is another chance for me, no one will. But how would my uncle and those who care for me suffer if I do this? Gods, do I love the wrong person? No no no no, I love her because of the pain, not despite of it...being upset feels powerful, my emotions must build up walls, I want to live in the past entirely, I want to have no one, but I'm so needy and I hate it."

My self-contained rant ended when I could no longer see where I was through my tears. I sat down and wept. Perhaps I seem weak in doing this, but these emotions were a long time in coming. The war was on and there was nothing I could do, the futility of my position, Aragorn could never be mine, even against morals of being married he could not be mine for he had a lover, my king would not fight, and now this. Arwen was the perfect golden piece that tipped the scale and broke the dam of my emotions. It was dark when I looked up. How long I had been absorbed in my thoughts and tears I did not know, but I found I was lost, both in spirit and in body. I knew not where I was and at that moment did not care. I lay my head upon my arms and slept.