She walked in the gardens within the house of her father, delighting in the feel of the fresh air, the starlight playing down through the trees to shine upon her, radiant and bright. Arwen had let her long hair down, and it followed her as a dark shadow, glimmering in the night. Her dress of pale grey shone in the darkness, and she danced upon the grass in joy of the winter, the cool frost on the ground shimmering in the light of the moon which sent rays shining down to Arda. From somewhere came the faint sounds of a song. The melody was so familiar, and yet she could not grasp what it was. Thoughts darted through her head, and she could not catch them. She forgot her frustration, as she began to dance, the words flitting through her mind, wrapping her in their embrace and carrying her far away, to a place forgotten by the world of men, and yet cherished by the elven people.
"Her mantle glinted in the moon, As on a hill-top high and far She danced, and at her feet was strewn A mist of silver quivering"
She whirled around, the words enchanting her flowing movements, spinning them beyond her control. Arwen threw her head back, reveling in the peace of the night.
"He saw the elven flowers spring About her feet, and healed again He longed by her to dance and sing Upon the grass untroubling"
She saw the sky high above, the Evenstar shining down on her, catching in her raven locks. Cares and worries slipped away, and her heart was given to the stars.
"Tinuviel! Tinuviel! He called her by her elvish name; And there she halted listening. One moment stood she, and a spell His voice laid on her: Beren came, And doom fell on Tinuviel That in his arms lay glistening"
Her clear voice raised in song, echoing in the woods around, clear as a silver bell, and bright as the morning. The music became more then hers, hundreds of fair elven voices singing, rising up, full of hope and sorrow, joy and despair. Then they faded, slowly, until only two voices remained, hers and anothers. Her dancing came to a halt, and she opened her eyes. Only one voice was singing, her own. Her own sweet voice rang throughout, and as the song came to an end, she opened her eyes.
She felt her breath catch slightly. Standing at the edge of the clearing was. a man. A slight flush rose to her cheeks, an ever faint tinge of pink on her pale features, and she turned to walk back towards the house of her father.
"Tinuviel! Tinuviel!"
She whirled around, a smile gracing her face, her dark hair whipping behind her in a keen breeze, and she turned to watch as this man walked up, awe written on his features.
"Who are you?" she spoke, the words tumbling from her lips. Something about him seemed. almost familiar, "And why do you call me by that name?" Her eyes darted, scanning his face for an answer.
"Because I believed you to be indeed Luthien Tinuviel, of whom I was singing," he answered with wonder shining brightly in his keen eyes, alive with a light akin to that of the elven race and yet not so. A lord of men he seemed, full of the life of the youthful, to whom the world is new every day "But if you are not she, then you walk in her likeness."
Arwen felt her smile waver, and her mind wandered through many thoughts. And doom came on Tinuviel, that in his arms lay glistening. She pushed the words aside, they troubled her. " So many have said, yet her name is not mine. Though maybe my doom will not be unlike hers," the words did not seem to come from her, as though her mind and body lay in the keeping of some greater force. She felt her thoughts return, and continued, "But who are you?"
He seemed to return from a dream, and he answered with an air of dignity. "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Lord of the Dunadain and heir of Isildur."
He appeared noble, bold, and laugh escaped her throat, watching in pitied amusement as he deflated; she could see the embaressment in his eyes, hidden though it was by. awe, was it. Or perhaps. she nearly froze, infaturation. She could hardly bear his discomfort and laughed merrily, its bright sound ringing through the trees, "Then we are kin from afar," her mind raced, so this was Elendil's heir., "For I am Arwen Elrond's daughter, and am called also Undomiel."
Her mind saw the sorrow in her father's eyes when he spoke of Isildur, but her heart thought of this man before her, the descendant of kings. His eyes glinted keenly and he was lithe, strong and proud. "Often it is seen," he spoke in a voice filled with wonder and amazement, "that in dangerous days men hide their chief treasure. Yet I marvel at Elrond and your brothers; for though I have dwelt in this house since childhood, I have heard no word of you. How comes it that we have not met before?Surely your father has not kept you locked in his hoard?"
Arwen nearly laughed at this; keep her under lock and key? Surely her father would do no such thing and yet. and yet she wondered also why he had no tidings of her, for was she not the daughter of Elrond, would he not mention her within all the years of this youth? 20 years or so this mortal seemed, and surely her father would have spoken of her lest he feared something of this man? "No," she looked across the mountains, towards Lothlorien, where dwelt her grandmother, Galadriel and grandfather, Celeborn, "I have dwelt for a time in the land of my mother's kin, in far Lothlorien. I have but lately returned to visit my father again. It is many years since I walked in Imladris."
She watched in amusement as a strange look came into his eyes, confusion filled him. Arwen smiled and looked deep into his eyes, "Do not wonder! For the children of Elrond have the life of the Eldar."
Why had I ever left?
Naneth.
Memories flooded her mind. Of singing and dancing, of her mother's bright laughter flying through the trees; of her father. Her thoughts came rushing back to the man who stood before her, "I fear I must depart, son of Arathorn. Elenath sila erin le." She turned and walked quickly away, vanishing from his sight as tears streamed down her pale cheeks.
Mother, why did you leave me? Why did you leave ada? He needs you. I can see it in his eyes sometimes, that haunted look that invades when his thoughts dwell on you. I miss you so much.
She sat down on a bench and let the sobs take her. She did not feel the pain like this in Lothlorien; healing was there. Here. here there were only memories, it was a place of remembrance. She shifted and laid on the long seat, staring at the stars as they peered through the trees, the sound of voices raised in song drifted to my ears and she closed my eyes and listened.
One day the pain will fade.
A Elbereth Gilthoniel
Silivren penna miriel
O menel aglar elenath
Na-Chaered palan-diriel
o galadhremmin ennorth
Fanuilos, le linnathon
Nef aear, si nef aearon
All through the valley life began to stir. Flowers peered sleepily out from behind their petals and songs began to rise throughout the house. It proved to be a beautiful day for many, even through the sorrow that existed as the elven kindred prepared to depart, but for Arwen it was only another day of grief. Another day knowing she would never again see the one she loved most.
Another day without hope.