AN: Hi everyone! I hope everyone is having a good week? I'm on Spring Break
and, thought I have homework to do, I'm slightly happy. It's always a good
treat not to have t go to Biochemistry and Physics for a whole week. I like
school and everything but I need a break from my Biochemistry professor.
Anyway, I'm digressing, thanks for all your reviews everyone! I really and
truly appreciate them. They make typing this story out worth it! I can't
thank you guys enough! You rock like a box of socks, as my little sister
has been known to say.
LadyJadePerendhil: Middle Earth is coming up very, very soon. The War of the Ring is most certainly over and Aragorn and Arwen have gotten married. It's just a matter of time now.
Saralitazie: Well, they aren't very nice people at all and I'm glad you don't like them. I'm going to make an attempt to have fun over my Spring Break, as long as it doesn't snow again here in the Big Apple, I'll be happy.
Lindiel Eryn: Oh wow! I didn't even realize the whole Hope/Aragorn/Estel thing until you brought it up! I'm glad you like how she's into both the martial arts and singing. This is the same Niphredil from the other story.
pixie88: You'll get to see what life for young Niphredil was like, eventually. She's going to run into someone, eventually, that she can talk to about it. Things will get better soon for her.
sunni07: Thanks for the compliment. You may say that right now and as many times as you'd like. I'm updating right now!
LalaithoftheBruinen: I have this odd deal with Elrond. One of my other favorite movie trilogies is The Matrix Trilogy and the guy who plays Elrond is in those movies as a character named Agent Smith. Both characters are remarkable similar in that they seem to be not very fond of the human race. Agent Smith calls the human race a virus, which would explain why Elrond isn't keen on Arwen marrying Aragorn. Elrond is going to show up sooner or later and might run into his granddaughter. Here's my next chapter!
Elainor: Thanks for the review and the compliment. I'm glad you dislike the Joneses.
hobbitgirl11: I'm happy you liked the song. It seemed to fit, when I was typing out that chapter. I was unsure if anyone had ever heard of it though.
Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.
The citadel was eerily silent. Footfalls echoed down the hall and breathing made a sound akin to a file moving over wood. The High King of the United Kingdom of Gondor and Arnor trudged down the hall. He had just come from a council meeting where everything from the state of the kingdom's crops to an upcoming visit of dignitaries from the Riddermark had been discussed.
There had been no council meetings for the past few days, hence the reason for the length of this one meeting. The lack of meetings was a direct result of a visit---a visit from the Prince of Mirkwood and a small child. The child, an elf with the unlikely name of Emma, was the newly found Princess of Mirkwood and half-sister to the prince. The little elf had made an impression far larger than her stature on the king.
Aragorn was intrigued by the young elven child. Something about her view of Middle Earth caught his interest.
Unlike his somewhat jaded view, a result of seeing the worst Middle Earth had to offer, she was full of questions and very curious about Middle Earth and everything about it. She was a quick study, as most elves were, and had much of the grace of her woodland kin. What grace she had shone through the clearest when she danced. The little elf was a talented dancer, having abilities that were far greater than her very young age.
Thinking about the young elf-child prompted him to mentally replay the closing moments of the council meeting.
*FLASHBACK*
"My Lord," the eldest of the men on the council prompted.
Aragorn looked up from the papers he had been fixing in a neat pile. He was suppose to bring them back to his own study and look them over. That task would be accomplished, in time. Right now, he just wanted to go back to his quarters and see his wife.
"Yes, sir," Aragorn said, addressing the councilman.
"My Lord, we have a concern we would like to address," another councilman said.
"Address this concern, sir. I will try my best to rectify it, if I can," Aragorn prompted, trying to keep exasperation from seeping into his voice.
"The council would like to know if you and your wife have begun making plans for an heir," one of the younger council members stated.
Aragorn was taken aback by the statement. He could not believe what he had just been asked. Concerns of the kingdom were one thing but this was his personal life. He had assumed that his personal life was---well---personal and of no concern to the council.
"What my wife and I do is none of your business," Aragorn quipped.
"But it is my Lord. What if you were to perish in a raid or by some illness? The kingdom would be left with out an heir to the throne," the eldest councilman countered.
Aragorn shook his head sadly.
"I am tired and I wish nothing more to go to my wife," he breathed. "To work on an heir?" the youngest of all the councilmen asked.
"That is none of your business," the king said, finality in his voice.
"At your age sir..." one councilman said, his protests continuing.
"Do not concern yourself with my age or what my wife and I do. That is personal and of no concern to this council," Aragorn said, placing as much authority as possible in his voice.
For a handful of moments, no one said anything or even dared to move.
"Am I understood?" Aragorn questioned.
"Yes, my Lord," murmured the councilmen.
"I hope I am," Aragorn replied, far more sharply than he would have liked.
He snapped up his papers and marched out of the room, bothered by the council's forwardness.
*END FLASHBACK*
Aragorn continued to walk, the noise from his boots filling the halls. He was still unnerved by what has transpired at the end of the meeting. He knew an heir was important and was vital to the kingdom. He and his wife were still newly married and he was still new to the role of king. An heir was the last thing on both their minds.
Or was it?
Since Emma's arrival, Arwen had become quiet, almost despondent. She had watched the child with guilt ridden eyes and far away expressions on her face. She benefited Emma with small sad smiles. Her mind wandered, and not just to the place of elvish dreams. She was not sleeping, not even resting in the accepted elvish style. Something was bothering her but, every time he inquired about it, she would push him away. She had told him she was not sure what was bothering her and that it would pass.
It was not passing though. Legolas and Emma had been gone for some time now. Her condition, whatever it was, appeared to be persisting and gaining strength.
He could not figure out why Emma had stirred up such a reaction in his wife. There seemed to be no real reason for it.
Aragorn entered into his quarters. The room was quiet, the only source of light being the fire burning in the hearth. His wife was no where to be found. Leaving the sheaf of papers on a near by table, Aragorn went off to find his wife.
He walked from room to room not finding his wife. She was not in his study or in the bedroom or any room for that matter.
Walking outside, for a moment, he found his wife sitting in one of the sprawling gardens. She appeared to be lost in thought.
He walked over, using his skills as a ranger to mask his approach. Even if her acute hearing picked up on his approach, she made no motion to acknowledge it.
"Arwen," he breathed, taking the seat next to her.
She looked up, a fleeting despondent look passing over her face but remaining in her eyes.
"When did you return?" she asked, sounding confused.
"Just now. Arwen, for the love of all that is good and scared in this world, can you please tell me what troubles you," Aragorn pleaded.
She glanced at her husband, avoiding his gaze. She stared at her hands instead.
One of his hands swam into her view, covering her own hands, stopping them from moving. The other lifted her chin up. Eyes met and she tried to shy away.
"Arwen, please. I want to help you but I cannot help you if you do not tell me what is bothering you," Aragorn pleaded, turning her face so that she was looked right in his eyes.
"Do you promise that, no matter what I tell you, you will not hold it against me?" Arwen, slowly, said.
The time was right, she had decided, to clear the air between them. There was a secret she held and had held for many years. Though she thought about the other person, a soul she had not seen in several years, nearly every day, there was no easy way for her to say anything about it.
Most of what she was feeling was guilt---guilt for not telling the truth, for not being able to own up to her actions, and for not taking care of her responsibilities. These feelings had been dredged up from seeing her husband interact with her friend's very young sister. Her own would have been just a bit older than her.
"Of course. Whatever is bothering you, I promise to help you through it,' Aragorn promised.
Arwen sighed and asked, "Do you remember that day we fought and you kissed me? You recall what transpired, I hope."
"Aye, I remember that day....everything about that day. Why do you ask?" Aragorn replied, his mind drifting back to that day.
*FLASHBACK*
"Where are you going?" a voice called.
"I ride out with the rising of the sun, Arwen. I told you this already," a younger Aragorn told the elven maiden.
"You said that you were staying. I do not want you to leave," Arwen said, approaching the ranger.
The two were just outside his own room. She had come down to talk to him; to plan what they were going to do with his time in Rivendell. She had forgotten that there would be no time. He would be leaving within hours of his arrival.
"I must go Arwen. Someone has to protect the Shire. This duty falls on me," Aragorn said, trying to calm the elven woman.
"It is not fair," she protested, placing her hands on hips, "Tell my father you can not go."
"I must," Aragorn said.
What started out as a polite conversation escalated into a full fledged argument. She did not want him to go, not now not ever. He tried to tell her that he had to go; it was his duty as Isildur's heir.
"You are acting immaturely," Arwen yelled.
"I am acting immaturely?!," Aragorn countered.
He was running out of logical arguments and the elven maiden seemed to be just getting started.
"I will show you immature," Aragorn called.
He stalked over, not caring about how his boots sounded on the stone floor. He kissed the elven maiden on the lips. He knew the bounds that had been set by her father but he was relatively young, to the elves just a child, and knew nothing else to. It was rash and foolish; he knew that to be true, but it seemed like the best course of action.
She looked shocked by the ranger's rash action and responded by kissing him back. Two could play at this game and she had every intention of showing him up.
From a simple kiss, things escalated and lead to his quarters...
*END FLASHBACK*
Aragorn shook himself free of the memory.
"I remember that day, everything that transpired on it," Aragorn admitted, none to proud of his actions.
On that day, the two of them had flouted her father's decree so badly that the two of them had made a silent agreement never to speak of it again. Both were ashamed by their actions.
"Please do not be upset with me," Arwen pleaded.
"Why should I be upset with you?" Aragorn questioned.
"Something came of that day, Aragorn," Arwen said, carefully.
She took a deep breath and let it out, centering herself. What she had to tell him, the reason behind her sudden downturn in disposition, was not going to be easy for her to say and him to hear.
"I know the council has been discussing an heir. There is no real need for that discussion. You already have an heir of sorts," she stated.
For the second time that day, Aragorn was shocked. His wife had just told him he was a father. He had a child, one he had not known about. He was not sure if he should be angry with his wife or hurt that he had felt she could not tell him.
He found he could not bring himself to be truly angry, seeing how hard it had been for Arwen to tell him that much. Hurt was easily felt as this was a breech of the trust that existed between the two of them. He could not understand why she had hidden this from him for so long.
"I have an heir?" he croaked.
"You have an heir of sorts," Arwen corrected, "the child is a female."
"I have a daughter?" Aragorn asked, not really believing what he was hearing.
Arwen nodded, feeling as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Her secret was out. In her mind, her daughter had a father. Though, neither new father nor young daughter knew of each other in the real sense.
"What is her name?" Aragorn questioned, a strange warmish feeling washing over him.
He could not explain why Arwen's statement had made him feel that way. It was a strange feeling, completely unexpected. The though of having a child, a baby, scared the Ranger turned king but the idea of an older child brought about stranger feelings.
"Niphredil," Arwen replied, "there is just one thing you must know. She was born before I gave up my immortality."
Aragorn looked up confused by the last part of that statement. He did not understand how immortality played into the situation at hand.
"How does that fit in?" Aragorn questioned.
"She was born before I chose a mortal life. She is half-elven, the doom of choice lies before her," Arwen said, her voice low.
"I have a daughter---I have an elven child," Aragorn processed.
His mind was fully of fragmented thoughts. Fathoming the fact he had a daughter was one thing. Fathoming the fact said daughter could, in theory, posses elven immortality was something very different.
Reasonable thought gave way to pure emotion. He needed to know something, a something that was gnawing at the back of his mind.
"Where is she now? Why have you not told me about her before?" Aragorn questioned.
"The red-headed wizard, Patrick is his name, brought her to his world. She was with me for about a year, living under the eaves of the mallorn trees in Lothlorien. I was afraid to tell you. I did not know how you would react," Arwen admitted.
Aragorn shook his head, sadly. Part of her response was expected; part was not.
"I would not have been angry with you; I could never be angry with you. I am hurt, more than anything, that you did not tell me sooner. Tell me, what does she look like?" Aragorn responded.
It bothered him that he was not able to picture was his child looked like. Would she be in possession the features of the Eldar or would she appear to be Edain? Could she look like a mingling of both as half-elven were known to appear?
"She is dark haired and dark eyed. She does have elven ears, if that is what you are referring to. Mind you, when last I saw her, she was but a child. She could look very different now," Arwen replied.
"Can we retrieve her?" Aragorn wanted to know.
Though she was just a thought to him, an idea in his head presented to him by his wife, he wanted to see this child, to learn what she was like.
Arwen looked, frankly, surprised. She had not expected this kind of response from her husband.
"You are not angry with me?" she asked, slowly.
"I am not angry with you. Surprised and somewhat hurt but never angry. We have just gone through this. Can we retrieve her?" Aragorn asked.
"I think we can. You would have her here with us?" Arwen said, sounding surprised.
"I would, she belongs here. She will need to decide her fate but that will be later. I want to see her, to meet her," Aragorn admitted.
"Truly?" Arwen questioned.
"Truly. She is my daughter after all," Aragorn said, his voice belling the attachment he was already feeling.
"I am sure Gandalf will be able to aid us in this endeavor," Arwen prompted.
Aragorn stood up, pulling Arwen up with him.
"We shall send a message out for Gandalf. I want to meet this child as soon as possible," Aragorn announced.
Arwen smiled, feeling better than she had in days. She would be reunited with her daughter---a daughter who now had a father. A father, who seemed to be in love with the fact he had a daughter.
"It will not be an easy adjustment for her, from what I have learned of Patrick's Muggle World. It is very unlike this one," Arwen stated.
"Then, we will send a message to Mirkwood as well," Aragorn suggested, "I do believe young Princess Emma will be able to aid us in making the transition an easy one."
The pair left the garden and began to make the most basic of all preparations to bring a certain child back home where she belonged.
(AN: This should clear up the summons at the ending of my other story!)
LadyJadePerendhil: Middle Earth is coming up very, very soon. The War of the Ring is most certainly over and Aragorn and Arwen have gotten married. It's just a matter of time now.
Saralitazie: Well, they aren't very nice people at all and I'm glad you don't like them. I'm going to make an attempt to have fun over my Spring Break, as long as it doesn't snow again here in the Big Apple, I'll be happy.
Lindiel Eryn: Oh wow! I didn't even realize the whole Hope/Aragorn/Estel thing until you brought it up! I'm glad you like how she's into both the martial arts and singing. This is the same Niphredil from the other story.
pixie88: You'll get to see what life for young Niphredil was like, eventually. She's going to run into someone, eventually, that she can talk to about it. Things will get better soon for her.
sunni07: Thanks for the compliment. You may say that right now and as many times as you'd like. I'm updating right now!
LalaithoftheBruinen: I have this odd deal with Elrond. One of my other favorite movie trilogies is The Matrix Trilogy and the guy who plays Elrond is in those movies as a character named Agent Smith. Both characters are remarkable similar in that they seem to be not very fond of the human race. Agent Smith calls the human race a virus, which would explain why Elrond isn't keen on Arwen marrying Aragorn. Elrond is going to show up sooner or later and might run into his granddaughter. Here's my next chapter!
Elainor: Thanks for the review and the compliment. I'm glad you dislike the Joneses.
hobbitgirl11: I'm happy you liked the song. It seemed to fit, when I was typing out that chapter. I was unsure if anyone had ever heard of it though.
Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.
The citadel was eerily silent. Footfalls echoed down the hall and breathing made a sound akin to a file moving over wood. The High King of the United Kingdom of Gondor and Arnor trudged down the hall. He had just come from a council meeting where everything from the state of the kingdom's crops to an upcoming visit of dignitaries from the Riddermark had been discussed.
There had been no council meetings for the past few days, hence the reason for the length of this one meeting. The lack of meetings was a direct result of a visit---a visit from the Prince of Mirkwood and a small child. The child, an elf with the unlikely name of Emma, was the newly found Princess of Mirkwood and half-sister to the prince. The little elf had made an impression far larger than her stature on the king.
Aragorn was intrigued by the young elven child. Something about her view of Middle Earth caught his interest.
Unlike his somewhat jaded view, a result of seeing the worst Middle Earth had to offer, she was full of questions and very curious about Middle Earth and everything about it. She was a quick study, as most elves were, and had much of the grace of her woodland kin. What grace she had shone through the clearest when she danced. The little elf was a talented dancer, having abilities that were far greater than her very young age.
Thinking about the young elf-child prompted him to mentally replay the closing moments of the council meeting.
*FLASHBACK*
"My Lord," the eldest of the men on the council prompted.
Aragorn looked up from the papers he had been fixing in a neat pile. He was suppose to bring them back to his own study and look them over. That task would be accomplished, in time. Right now, he just wanted to go back to his quarters and see his wife.
"Yes, sir," Aragorn said, addressing the councilman.
"My Lord, we have a concern we would like to address," another councilman said.
"Address this concern, sir. I will try my best to rectify it, if I can," Aragorn prompted, trying to keep exasperation from seeping into his voice.
"The council would like to know if you and your wife have begun making plans for an heir," one of the younger council members stated.
Aragorn was taken aback by the statement. He could not believe what he had just been asked. Concerns of the kingdom were one thing but this was his personal life. He had assumed that his personal life was---well---personal and of no concern to the council.
"What my wife and I do is none of your business," Aragorn quipped.
"But it is my Lord. What if you were to perish in a raid or by some illness? The kingdom would be left with out an heir to the throne," the eldest councilman countered.
Aragorn shook his head sadly.
"I am tired and I wish nothing more to go to my wife," he breathed. "To work on an heir?" the youngest of all the councilmen asked.
"That is none of your business," the king said, finality in his voice.
"At your age sir..." one councilman said, his protests continuing.
"Do not concern yourself with my age or what my wife and I do. That is personal and of no concern to this council," Aragorn said, placing as much authority as possible in his voice.
For a handful of moments, no one said anything or even dared to move.
"Am I understood?" Aragorn questioned.
"Yes, my Lord," murmured the councilmen.
"I hope I am," Aragorn replied, far more sharply than he would have liked.
He snapped up his papers and marched out of the room, bothered by the council's forwardness.
*END FLASHBACK*
Aragorn continued to walk, the noise from his boots filling the halls. He was still unnerved by what has transpired at the end of the meeting. He knew an heir was important and was vital to the kingdom. He and his wife were still newly married and he was still new to the role of king. An heir was the last thing on both their minds.
Or was it?
Since Emma's arrival, Arwen had become quiet, almost despondent. She had watched the child with guilt ridden eyes and far away expressions on her face. She benefited Emma with small sad smiles. Her mind wandered, and not just to the place of elvish dreams. She was not sleeping, not even resting in the accepted elvish style. Something was bothering her but, every time he inquired about it, she would push him away. She had told him she was not sure what was bothering her and that it would pass.
It was not passing though. Legolas and Emma had been gone for some time now. Her condition, whatever it was, appeared to be persisting and gaining strength.
He could not figure out why Emma had stirred up such a reaction in his wife. There seemed to be no real reason for it.
Aragorn entered into his quarters. The room was quiet, the only source of light being the fire burning in the hearth. His wife was no where to be found. Leaving the sheaf of papers on a near by table, Aragorn went off to find his wife.
He walked from room to room not finding his wife. She was not in his study or in the bedroom or any room for that matter.
Walking outside, for a moment, he found his wife sitting in one of the sprawling gardens. She appeared to be lost in thought.
He walked over, using his skills as a ranger to mask his approach. Even if her acute hearing picked up on his approach, she made no motion to acknowledge it.
"Arwen," he breathed, taking the seat next to her.
She looked up, a fleeting despondent look passing over her face but remaining in her eyes.
"When did you return?" she asked, sounding confused.
"Just now. Arwen, for the love of all that is good and scared in this world, can you please tell me what troubles you," Aragorn pleaded.
She glanced at her husband, avoiding his gaze. She stared at her hands instead.
One of his hands swam into her view, covering her own hands, stopping them from moving. The other lifted her chin up. Eyes met and she tried to shy away.
"Arwen, please. I want to help you but I cannot help you if you do not tell me what is bothering you," Aragorn pleaded, turning her face so that she was looked right in his eyes.
"Do you promise that, no matter what I tell you, you will not hold it against me?" Arwen, slowly, said.
The time was right, she had decided, to clear the air between them. There was a secret she held and had held for many years. Though she thought about the other person, a soul she had not seen in several years, nearly every day, there was no easy way for her to say anything about it.
Most of what she was feeling was guilt---guilt for not telling the truth, for not being able to own up to her actions, and for not taking care of her responsibilities. These feelings had been dredged up from seeing her husband interact with her friend's very young sister. Her own would have been just a bit older than her.
"Of course. Whatever is bothering you, I promise to help you through it,' Aragorn promised.
Arwen sighed and asked, "Do you remember that day we fought and you kissed me? You recall what transpired, I hope."
"Aye, I remember that day....everything about that day. Why do you ask?" Aragorn replied, his mind drifting back to that day.
*FLASHBACK*
"Where are you going?" a voice called.
"I ride out with the rising of the sun, Arwen. I told you this already," a younger Aragorn told the elven maiden.
"You said that you were staying. I do not want you to leave," Arwen said, approaching the ranger.
The two were just outside his own room. She had come down to talk to him; to plan what they were going to do with his time in Rivendell. She had forgotten that there would be no time. He would be leaving within hours of his arrival.
"I must go Arwen. Someone has to protect the Shire. This duty falls on me," Aragorn said, trying to calm the elven woman.
"It is not fair," she protested, placing her hands on hips, "Tell my father you can not go."
"I must," Aragorn said.
What started out as a polite conversation escalated into a full fledged argument. She did not want him to go, not now not ever. He tried to tell her that he had to go; it was his duty as Isildur's heir.
"You are acting immaturely," Arwen yelled.
"I am acting immaturely?!," Aragorn countered.
He was running out of logical arguments and the elven maiden seemed to be just getting started.
"I will show you immature," Aragorn called.
He stalked over, not caring about how his boots sounded on the stone floor. He kissed the elven maiden on the lips. He knew the bounds that had been set by her father but he was relatively young, to the elves just a child, and knew nothing else to. It was rash and foolish; he knew that to be true, but it seemed like the best course of action.
She looked shocked by the ranger's rash action and responded by kissing him back. Two could play at this game and she had every intention of showing him up.
From a simple kiss, things escalated and lead to his quarters...
*END FLASHBACK*
Aragorn shook himself free of the memory.
"I remember that day, everything that transpired on it," Aragorn admitted, none to proud of his actions.
On that day, the two of them had flouted her father's decree so badly that the two of them had made a silent agreement never to speak of it again. Both were ashamed by their actions.
"Please do not be upset with me," Arwen pleaded.
"Why should I be upset with you?" Aragorn questioned.
"Something came of that day, Aragorn," Arwen said, carefully.
She took a deep breath and let it out, centering herself. What she had to tell him, the reason behind her sudden downturn in disposition, was not going to be easy for her to say and him to hear.
"I know the council has been discussing an heir. There is no real need for that discussion. You already have an heir of sorts," she stated.
For the second time that day, Aragorn was shocked. His wife had just told him he was a father. He had a child, one he had not known about. He was not sure if he should be angry with his wife or hurt that he had felt she could not tell him.
He found he could not bring himself to be truly angry, seeing how hard it had been for Arwen to tell him that much. Hurt was easily felt as this was a breech of the trust that existed between the two of them. He could not understand why she had hidden this from him for so long.
"I have an heir?" he croaked.
"You have an heir of sorts," Arwen corrected, "the child is a female."
"I have a daughter?" Aragorn asked, not really believing what he was hearing.
Arwen nodded, feeling as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Her secret was out. In her mind, her daughter had a father. Though, neither new father nor young daughter knew of each other in the real sense.
"What is her name?" Aragorn questioned, a strange warmish feeling washing over him.
He could not explain why Arwen's statement had made him feel that way. It was a strange feeling, completely unexpected. The though of having a child, a baby, scared the Ranger turned king but the idea of an older child brought about stranger feelings.
"Niphredil," Arwen replied, "there is just one thing you must know. She was born before I gave up my immortality."
Aragorn looked up confused by the last part of that statement. He did not understand how immortality played into the situation at hand.
"How does that fit in?" Aragorn questioned.
"She was born before I chose a mortal life. She is half-elven, the doom of choice lies before her," Arwen said, her voice low.
"I have a daughter---I have an elven child," Aragorn processed.
His mind was fully of fragmented thoughts. Fathoming the fact he had a daughter was one thing. Fathoming the fact said daughter could, in theory, posses elven immortality was something very different.
Reasonable thought gave way to pure emotion. He needed to know something, a something that was gnawing at the back of his mind.
"Where is she now? Why have you not told me about her before?" Aragorn questioned.
"The red-headed wizard, Patrick is his name, brought her to his world. She was with me for about a year, living under the eaves of the mallorn trees in Lothlorien. I was afraid to tell you. I did not know how you would react," Arwen admitted.
Aragorn shook his head, sadly. Part of her response was expected; part was not.
"I would not have been angry with you; I could never be angry with you. I am hurt, more than anything, that you did not tell me sooner. Tell me, what does she look like?" Aragorn responded.
It bothered him that he was not able to picture was his child looked like. Would she be in possession the features of the Eldar or would she appear to be Edain? Could she look like a mingling of both as half-elven were known to appear?
"She is dark haired and dark eyed. She does have elven ears, if that is what you are referring to. Mind you, when last I saw her, she was but a child. She could look very different now," Arwen replied.
"Can we retrieve her?" Aragorn wanted to know.
Though she was just a thought to him, an idea in his head presented to him by his wife, he wanted to see this child, to learn what she was like.
Arwen looked, frankly, surprised. She had not expected this kind of response from her husband.
"You are not angry with me?" she asked, slowly.
"I am not angry with you. Surprised and somewhat hurt but never angry. We have just gone through this. Can we retrieve her?" Aragorn asked.
"I think we can. You would have her here with us?" Arwen said, sounding surprised.
"I would, she belongs here. She will need to decide her fate but that will be later. I want to see her, to meet her," Aragorn admitted.
"Truly?" Arwen questioned.
"Truly. She is my daughter after all," Aragorn said, his voice belling the attachment he was already feeling.
"I am sure Gandalf will be able to aid us in this endeavor," Arwen prompted.
Aragorn stood up, pulling Arwen up with him.
"We shall send a message out for Gandalf. I want to meet this child as soon as possible," Aragorn announced.
Arwen smiled, feeling better than she had in days. She would be reunited with her daughter---a daughter who now had a father. A father, who seemed to be in love with the fact he had a daughter.
"It will not be an easy adjustment for her, from what I have learned of Patrick's Muggle World. It is very unlike this one," Arwen stated.
"Then, we will send a message to Mirkwood as well," Aragorn suggested, "I do believe young Princess Emma will be able to aid us in making the transition an easy one."
The pair left the garden and began to make the most basic of all preparations to bring a certain child back home where she belonged.
(AN: This should clear up the summons at the ending of my other story!)