Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. I just play in their world.
Seeing as some of you were eager for a continuation, I thought I might further this particular story. Hope you enjoy.
Chapter 2:
The bright light of the sun shone mercilessly through the archway, glinting off the glass of the bay doors leading out onto the balcony. A hearty breeze ruffled the sheer curtains and brought with it the smell of roses and roasting food. Sounds of the ongoing preparations drifted into the quiet room to awaken the sleeping Elf within.
Arwen opened her eyes and turned towards the window. Raising herself on her elbows, she sighed and rubbed the vestiges of sleep from her eyes. Looking about the room, she allowed her sleep fogged mind to clear before she pushed herself out of bed. Stretching, she noticed a platter of fruits and bread, no doubt brought in early this morning by one of Gondor's many palace servants. Walking across the large room, she picked her robe up from the foot of the canopy bed and wrapped it loosely around her shoulders. Selecting a sweet roll from the tray, she absentmindedly pulled pieces from the roll as she stepped out onto the balcony and into the morning sun.
Allowing her eyes to adjust to the light, Arwen turned her gaze out onto the white city. Large towers spiraled up into the sky, and elegant houses and balconies were decorated for the day's event. She looked down at the palace's courtyard and gasped at the elaborate scene set for the wedding. The branches of the White Tree, symbol of the Kings of Gondor, were draped with garlands of freesia and elanor. A large canopied podium rested at the foot of the palace steps, embroidered with both the standard of Gondor and the emblem of the House of Elrond.
The water in the fountain was littered with drifting rose petals, and tall banners, lined up along the walkway on the courtyard, drifted in the breeze coming from the river. Long banquet tables and the long empty thrones of the King and Queen had been carried out onto the courtyard, so that the ensuing feast could take place beneath the twinkling stars. Garlands of roses were attached to tall pillars, stretched out over the green like a ceiling, and the lanterns from last night's festivities remained intact, to again provide light for the evening's celebration.
Arwen's throat tightened, and a hand crept to the base of her neck as her heart beat picked up momentum. She would wed this day. With the setting of the sun, she would become Queen of Gondor and Arnor, and wife to the one man she had loved above all others, and though today was a day both had waited on for much too long, Arwen's heart was heavy. The sights before her could not quell her belief that the people of Gondor were hesitant to embrace their new Queen. Last night's incident had affected her more then she cared to let on, but she could not fed Aragorn's concern for her. She did not want to let unknowing observers ruin her wedding, but she feared future hardships for her Elvish lineage.
A sudden knock on the heavy wooden doors of her chambers startled Arwen, and turning on her heel she quickly made her way across the room to receive her visitor. Opening the door, she smiled as her grandmother and her attendant Uruviel greeted her with a mug of steaming tea. Bowing slightly, Arwen moved aside to let the two women into the room. Galadriel paused to kiss her granddaughter on the forehead as her handmaid placed the mug on a stone table.
"It is a lovely day, Undomiel. Fit enough a day for marriage to a King, I dare say." The bright smile upon Galadriel's face hid her concern as her crystalline eyes bore deeply into Arwen's face, noting the clear blue depths and reservation kindled within. When Arwen failed to smile or nod in agreement, Galadriel asked softly, "You do not look well. What troubles your heart, little one?"
Arwen turned and sat down upon a cushioned foot stool and sighed as Galadriel rested in the chair behind her, drawing her heavy hair from her shoulders and running her nimble fingers through the dark locks. Across the room, Uruviel draw a sash around the loose curtains, allowing a stronger breeze to float into the room. Galadriel rested her hands on Arwen's shoulders, gently willing her to speak the thoughts that troubled her mind. "Do not remain in doubt, Arwen. Some fears are best resolved when brought out into the light."
Arwen looked down at her hands, folding neatly in her lap. "They hate me. They fear me. They see an Elf when I would be mortal as they are. They do not know of my choice or of my loss, or of my desire to be what they are for such a sort time. They cannot see me as anything more then a vestige of the past. The people of Gondor believe I will corrupt the Kingship with the establishment of Elvish rule." She tugged at the hem of her shift, fraying the fine silk and ripping tiny intricate stitches. "What will it take for them to see what Aragorn has known for so long?"
"The world of Men has always feared that which they do not understand. You should not let their ignorance darken your love for their King. Keep that love in your heart and no shadow or doubt will ever cause you pain and trouble. In time these people of Gondor will see you as he does." Arwen smiled half-heartily, though a silent hope began echoing in her heart. "I pray you are right, grandmother." Galadriel smiled and bent to kiss the crown of her granddaughter's head. Arwen turned to face the regal Elf, and kissed the ring on her hand. The light in the room glinted off Galadriel's ring, and with a pang Arwen looked at the silver glow of the ring, noting it's fading light and knowing it's power was finally diminished. The power of the Elves was spent for this world, and it was time for the race of man to assume their vacancy.
And it was time for Arwen to become one of them.
She stood up and walked to the table, and wrapped her hands around the warm mug that rested on the smooth stone surface, lifting it to her lips and tasting the bitter tea inside. Uruviel joined her mistress and lady and laid upon the table a gown of pale blue. "Lady Arwen, it is time to begin preparing you for the ceremony." Arwen gently fingered the sheer fabric of her wedding robes, and looked back at the stein in her hand. Looking at Uruviel with a mischievous glint in her eyes, she handed the steaming mug back to the handmaiden and smiled nervously at her grandmother.
"Perhaps, so that I might quell my anxious nerves, a fluke of wine would serve me better?"
Galadriel laughed airily and Arwen closed her eyes, relishing the sound of the elder woman's joy, sighing as the wind picked up the clear sound and carried it from the room on a soft breeze. The Lady of Lothlorien gestured to her attendant, and nodded an ascent.
"I believe my granddaughter has the right idea. Uruviel, please see to a bottle of wine from King Aragorn's wineries, so that these two maids might better greet this special day."
Seeing as some of you were eager for a continuation, I thought I might further this particular story. Hope you enjoy.
Chapter 2:
The bright light of the sun shone mercilessly through the archway, glinting off the glass of the bay doors leading out onto the balcony. A hearty breeze ruffled the sheer curtains and brought with it the smell of roses and roasting food. Sounds of the ongoing preparations drifted into the quiet room to awaken the sleeping Elf within.
Arwen opened her eyes and turned towards the window. Raising herself on her elbows, she sighed and rubbed the vestiges of sleep from her eyes. Looking about the room, she allowed her sleep fogged mind to clear before she pushed herself out of bed. Stretching, she noticed a platter of fruits and bread, no doubt brought in early this morning by one of Gondor's many palace servants. Walking across the large room, she picked her robe up from the foot of the canopy bed and wrapped it loosely around her shoulders. Selecting a sweet roll from the tray, she absentmindedly pulled pieces from the roll as she stepped out onto the balcony and into the morning sun.
Allowing her eyes to adjust to the light, Arwen turned her gaze out onto the white city. Large towers spiraled up into the sky, and elegant houses and balconies were decorated for the day's event. She looked down at the palace's courtyard and gasped at the elaborate scene set for the wedding. The branches of the White Tree, symbol of the Kings of Gondor, were draped with garlands of freesia and elanor. A large canopied podium rested at the foot of the palace steps, embroidered with both the standard of Gondor and the emblem of the House of Elrond.
The water in the fountain was littered with drifting rose petals, and tall banners, lined up along the walkway on the courtyard, drifted in the breeze coming from the river. Long banquet tables and the long empty thrones of the King and Queen had been carried out onto the courtyard, so that the ensuing feast could take place beneath the twinkling stars. Garlands of roses were attached to tall pillars, stretched out over the green like a ceiling, and the lanterns from last night's festivities remained intact, to again provide light for the evening's celebration.
Arwen's throat tightened, and a hand crept to the base of her neck as her heart beat picked up momentum. She would wed this day. With the setting of the sun, she would become Queen of Gondor and Arnor, and wife to the one man she had loved above all others, and though today was a day both had waited on for much too long, Arwen's heart was heavy. The sights before her could not quell her belief that the people of Gondor were hesitant to embrace their new Queen. Last night's incident had affected her more then she cared to let on, but she could not fed Aragorn's concern for her. She did not want to let unknowing observers ruin her wedding, but she feared future hardships for her Elvish lineage.
A sudden knock on the heavy wooden doors of her chambers startled Arwen, and turning on her heel she quickly made her way across the room to receive her visitor. Opening the door, she smiled as her grandmother and her attendant Uruviel greeted her with a mug of steaming tea. Bowing slightly, Arwen moved aside to let the two women into the room. Galadriel paused to kiss her granddaughter on the forehead as her handmaid placed the mug on a stone table.
"It is a lovely day, Undomiel. Fit enough a day for marriage to a King, I dare say." The bright smile upon Galadriel's face hid her concern as her crystalline eyes bore deeply into Arwen's face, noting the clear blue depths and reservation kindled within. When Arwen failed to smile or nod in agreement, Galadriel asked softly, "You do not look well. What troubles your heart, little one?"
Arwen turned and sat down upon a cushioned foot stool and sighed as Galadriel rested in the chair behind her, drawing her heavy hair from her shoulders and running her nimble fingers through the dark locks. Across the room, Uruviel draw a sash around the loose curtains, allowing a stronger breeze to float into the room. Galadriel rested her hands on Arwen's shoulders, gently willing her to speak the thoughts that troubled her mind. "Do not remain in doubt, Arwen. Some fears are best resolved when brought out into the light."
Arwen looked down at her hands, folding neatly in her lap. "They hate me. They fear me. They see an Elf when I would be mortal as they are. They do not know of my choice or of my loss, or of my desire to be what they are for such a sort time. They cannot see me as anything more then a vestige of the past. The people of Gondor believe I will corrupt the Kingship with the establishment of Elvish rule." She tugged at the hem of her shift, fraying the fine silk and ripping tiny intricate stitches. "What will it take for them to see what Aragorn has known for so long?"
"The world of Men has always feared that which they do not understand. You should not let their ignorance darken your love for their King. Keep that love in your heart and no shadow or doubt will ever cause you pain and trouble. In time these people of Gondor will see you as he does." Arwen smiled half-heartily, though a silent hope began echoing in her heart. "I pray you are right, grandmother." Galadriel smiled and bent to kiss the crown of her granddaughter's head. Arwen turned to face the regal Elf, and kissed the ring on her hand. The light in the room glinted off Galadriel's ring, and with a pang Arwen looked at the silver glow of the ring, noting it's fading light and knowing it's power was finally diminished. The power of the Elves was spent for this world, and it was time for the race of man to assume their vacancy.
And it was time for Arwen to become one of them.
She stood up and walked to the table, and wrapped her hands around the warm mug that rested on the smooth stone surface, lifting it to her lips and tasting the bitter tea inside. Uruviel joined her mistress and lady and laid upon the table a gown of pale blue. "Lady Arwen, it is time to begin preparing you for the ceremony." Arwen gently fingered the sheer fabric of her wedding robes, and looked back at the stein in her hand. Looking at Uruviel with a mischievous glint in her eyes, she handed the steaming mug back to the handmaiden and smiled nervously at her grandmother.
"Perhaps, so that I might quell my anxious nerves, a fluke of wine would serve me better?"
Galadriel laughed airily and Arwen closed her eyes, relishing the sound of the elder woman's joy, sighing as the wind picked up the clear sound and carried it from the room on a soft breeze. The Lady of Lothlorien gestured to her attendant, and nodded an ascent.
"I believe my granddaughter has the right idea. Uruviel, please see to a bottle of wine from King Aragorn's wineries, so that these two maids might better greet this special day."