Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings, all characters, places, and related terms are the sole property of J.R.R. Tolkien's estate.


Foreboding

Aragorn's eyes opened and looked about quickly, almost wildly. The fortress was silent with sleep. Many refugees slept against the stone walls or on the hard floor, a broken sob and fussing babe piercing the night air occasionally. His eyes swept the sad, weary faces that found some little peace in slumber. Tired himself, he waited for his racing heart to slow. Becoming aware of a warm, soft presence leaning against him, he turned his gaze to his right. A breath of relief escaped his lips, and for a long moment he stared intently at the lady sleeping, reassuring himself she was real.

Flashes of his dark dream brushed his mind – of a dark presence, cries, clashes of blades, a face white as death, all life gone from the limbs – before vanishing completely. The lady was here beside him, safe; it was only a dream, he reasoned. Yet he could not shake a feeling of unease. His eyes drank in her golden hair which covered her like a cloak; her peaceful face, free temporarily of tiredness and worry; her pink cheeks; her parted lips. Yes, she was real, Aragorn assured himself, pushing away his lingering fear; and his heart lightened. His gaze then fell on her hands, still covered in orc blood. Closing his eyes, he thanked the Valor she had not come to harm. Just recalling the tale he had been told of the brief battle in the Glittering Caves brought back the amazement and fear that had washed over him. He did not desire to see the lady come to harm; he feared what fate awaited her. She had already suffered greatly.

His eyes flashing with a mysterious light, Aragorn picked up his sword and ran his thumb down the cool metal. He would do all in his power to watch over and protect her. Yes. Gently, he rested his head against hers, peace drifting over him as he listened to her quiet breathing and welcomed the heat from her body. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He allowed his eyes to shut, and the corners of his lips turned up slightly. For a moment, all was well.


With a jolt Arwen sits up in bed. She blinks the sleep from her eyes and looks about her room. Sighing heavily, she pushes back the covers and leaves the bed, walking to a window.

The sky is giving way from darkness to pale purple, orange light – dawn. Birds chirp happily to one another.

Arwen wraps her arms around herself and breathes in the cold morning air. She shivers from more than just the morning breeze.

Her pale beautiful face is in a frown as her eyes search the horizon. Why has she had this dream when the Fellowship leaves today? Who was the lady? What did she mean to Aragorn? Endless questions whirl in Arwen's mind.

She knows it is a foretelling of the future. But if it will come to pass…it is impossible. For just two days ago Aragorn had met her in one of the gardens, where they reaffirmed their vows of love. She will give up her immortality to bind herself to him. His heart will never be swayed by another, by one so young, a human, not as worthy as she Arwen, Evenstar of her people. Yet foreboding courses through her. She does not know what will happen to Aragorn and the others on their journey. What obstacles, foes, and unforeseen allies they will encounter? He may not ever lay eyes on the lady.

But Arwen cannot forget the things she saw in Aragorn's eyes when he gazed upon the lady beside him. There had been fear which had only vanished when he saw her. There had been concern and…something else Arwen dares not give a name. She recalls the fire in his eyes when he held his sword, ready to defend the lady.

Dressing quickly, Arwen reluctantly recalls the last image she saw before she awoke. Aragorn had rested his head against the lady's; a tiny smile had touched his lips; and Arwen had sensed the weight of pressing matters lift from his shoulders. He experienced peace around the lady. Something Arwen herself has not been able to do.

Aragorn's face had been weary when they met on the bridge. She had not been able to make his eyes light up or have him smile even for moment. He had barely responded to her kiss. He had seemed many miles away.

Arwen examines herself in a mirror. Aragorn will never betray her, but he could be tempted. It would do him good to laugh and smile in these dark days. But she does not want to risk losing him. She must make certain her dream will not come to pass. She will say farewell to Aragorn and reassure herself of his faithfulness.

Nodding to her image, she tosses her head proudly and sweeps from the room in search of Aragorn.

THE END