Chapter 2 - Loss
Arwen stared up at the distant afternoon sky, utterly stunned. The rest of Middle-Earth was shut off to her completely. All she could hear was the deep beating of her heart thudding loudly in her ears, and all she could see was his face. The face! The face she had not seen for so long, save in her dreams. The face of Aragorn. Aragorn!
She scrambled up, almost toppling off the tree-limb rather uncharacteristically, but elated now that the shock had faded away. It did not matter for now why he was there, why she had not known before… She knew now.
Aragorn was there, so close! Oh blessed Valar! After so long! Her face had lit up like a perfect moon in the deepest darkest night, dispelling all shadows.
She eagerly strained to see him again. On catching sight of his familiar dark hair at the head of the host of Dúnedain, her heart leapt with such joy that Arwen felt as if she had leapt up to the very highest treetop. She had not felt so happy in years and the emotion was disorientating. But now the last Dúnedain had passed her tree, and Aragorn was lost in the distant sea of people. A sudden panic stirred her, and as soon as Arwen came to her senses she fled back down the branch. It was not a dream, she knew it. He was here, her Estel, and she would find him!
"My lady?"
Arwen was so startled that the Elf who had spoken was obliged to reach out and steady her.
"Forgive me," Arwen said, so captivated by the thought of being reunited with Aragorn that she did not even look to see who it was. Her mind was wheeling; all she wanted was to run after the Rangers; she would deal with the embarrassment of having been observed later. She made to drop down to the ground but the Elf tightened his grip on her shoulders.
"My lady… wait…"
Arwen was shocked at the resistance the Elf was giving and could not comprehend it. Had she behaved so strangely? Or inappropriately? …She thought not, but then not many Elves understood her love for a mortal.
"I am sorry, please let me explain myself later," she apologised quickly, hoping that now she could leave. With a little more force she tried to pull away. But the Elf held fast.
"Let him go," the voice murmured in her ear, "let him be."
Arwen, driven by the desire to set eyes on Aragorn again, fought more forcefully against his hold. But the Elf, although obviously slightly taken aback at her determination, moved his arms round her body and pinned her arms to her side.
"Why are you hindering me? Please, release me!" she moaned, still trying with all her might to slide out from his grip, while inflicting more injuries on herself than on the other Elf. The binding of his arms was restraining her breathing, and she knew that the Elf could tell she was tiring fast. As her chin weakly dropped down onto her chest, she caught sight of the grey clothes he wore, and she realised that he was a guard of the wood. No wonder he was exercising such resilience to her.
The Elf-guard said with more meaning this time, "Please, let him go." When Arwen began to cough, his tone softened. "I beg your pardon, my lady, but you are hurting yourself."
In desperation Arwen gave one final strike, with all she had left, throwing all her weight on one side and striking her elbow into the guard's chest. She fought, and the Elf swayed, but very quickly he regained his balance and put an end to her rebellion.
Arwen let out a tormented sigh and her eyes hopelessly searched through the rich green leaves, not finding an opening through which to see Aragorn, nor expecting it. Her eyes were beginning to prickle. The spirit that had leapt for joy within her now came crumpling down. She just wanted him… she spluttered as a lump lodged in her throat… was it really so wrong to want to be with the one she loved?
Tears filled her eyes until Arwen could not hold them any longer. She broke down, warm tears streaming down her cheeks, her body trembling from the sobs that wracked her heart, her eyes cursed with raw stings. There she fell out of time, hanging simply in the Elf's guarding arms, crying for the pain of coming so close… so painfully close… only to lose Aragorn again…
Man after man passed out of sight and earshot below them, ignorant of the struggle up in the trees, still talking happily of their journey ahead of them, and the beautiful realm of the elves, and the assurance of a good dinner for once.
As the last group of joyful friends faded away and the birdsong alone made a background to Arwen's sniffles, the Elf in the tree came to realise that if he let go of her now, she would most certainly fall out of the tree. He anxiously called to her.
"My lady Arwen?"
He relaxed his arms from their strong restraint, but still kept his hands there, so fragile she suddenly seemed, and he was still afraid of her falling. The sniffing ceased and slowly Elrond's daughter turned to fix deep, sorrowful eyes on him.
"Haldir?" she whispered, seeing him for the first time, and a trickle ran down her face. The marchwarden of the forest cringed and tried not to feel too guilty. "Why?" she whimpered, the word barely audible, she was so overcome with sadness.
Haldir sighed and bowed his head. "You know why, my lady."
Arwen said nothing but gazed at him with eyes so deep, so full of emotion and thought that the combination was unreadable. He faltered, trying not to think that he, Haldir, first marchwarden of the Golden Wood, had made Arwen Undómiel, daughter of Elrond, Evenstar of her people, cry. What retribution would he receive for this sacrilege? He would never hear the end of the humiliation. Wildly his imagination conjured scenarios that he could bring to pass… Either he could flee and say Arwen had just fallen out of a tree… or he could tell her straight out that it was ridiculous to love a Man and she should forget about him.
Haldir decided on a compromise and took a deep breath.
"Arwen" – pause – "my lady; I have roamed through all this land many times, and do not think I have been blind. I have seen you, wandering around in a dream to save you from the pains of loneliness, eyes full of grief, singing of this Man to comfort you in your sorrow. I know you miss him in every way, and I am sure he adores you, but, Arwen, you must see, he is a mortal, and you cannot love him. Your fate is tied to your people; there is where you belong, be it here in Lórien, or in Imladris if you chose, or indeed in Elvenhome when the time comes. Here with us, the Eldar, we who have seen many years pass over Middle-Earth, and are yet to live many more."
At this Arwen turned her head to stare off into the trees. She appeared not to be listening, but Haldir still strove to give her his council.
"Do not think that you must always be lonely among us. You are loved Arwen, by your people… and there are many, many Elves to choose from, who admire you and wonder at your wisdom and radiance. Arwen, hearken to me, please," he bowed in respect, "I wish the best for you, as does your Ada, Lady Galadriel, and the rest of all our kin. We are afraid to lose you. Can you not see that this… this which you feel… it is not real. He is beneath you, my Lady Undómiel. I am sorry. Please, see; let him go."
When Arwen looked at him again, her eyes sparkled brightly with angry tears. She seemed to shiver in an unknown chill and her dark hair fluttered rhythmically in a sudden gust of wind.
"Haldir," she said, and he saw deep in her evening eyes a strange light. "I love him. I understand what you say, but I cannot understand how you believe you change this. No one can; not you, not the Lady of this land, nor Ada. Not even Ilúvatar could change this now. My path is chosen. I love Aragorn. My life is bound to his with ties of love and hope that will never die, and never come undone."
There was a pause as Haldir considered how to reply. Normally, he would have blatantly disagreed and less subtly pointed out that Aragorn, though he was incredibly nice, was (regrettably) a mortal, and if she bound herself to him, she would die. He would have come up with clever responses which would baffle an Orc so much it would surrender, it would make a confused Man think he had asked for a glass of lemonade, it would even make another Elf stop in his tracks and meekly side with his clever points. He would have won the disagreement nobly, still maintaining their respect, and seeming ever more the wise lord aiding the Lady Galadriel and her Galadhrim out of his own love for them.
But this time, Haldir was defeated by someone else's words. He stood there puzzled, unsure what to do next: for he knew Arwen was telling the truth. That light, shining out from her soul, that power, that emotion; that was her love, and now he could see that. Haldir could not argue. Arwen had made her choice. She was right, oh so right, what in Arda could he do against Ilúvatar's fateful hand? Nothing.
Haldir sighed, seeing her watch him with concern on her glimmering face. The Elf-lord smiled grimly, wiping his golden hair shakily off his own face. He drew himself up.
"Come, I must take you back to Caras Galadhon. You have wandered a long way today from your home."
He held out a welcoming hand to her. Arwen hesitated a moment before accepting his help, bitterly thinking that her real home was currently walking away in the opposite direction, thanks to Haldir. But she held her tongue and gracefully leapt down from the tree, Haldir hopping down behind her with ease. He led off straight into the trees, away from the path, obviously expecting Arwen to follow suit.
She, however, was standing perfectly still, gazing back wistfully over the bent grass towards the place where her Ranger, her Aragorn, had for sure crouched down and sensed her presence. Without thought, she raised a hand, reaching out to touch his handsome, loving face…
"Arwen!"
The Elf-maiden abandoned the path in defeat and humbly followed through the trees to where Haldir's beautiful chestnut horse had kept hidden, and was now snorting welcomingly, as if to dispel Arwen's despondency. It did not, and it was only by Haldir offering his aid again that Arwen mounted his horse.
Then he leapt up himself. "Nuru lim, Voronwë," he whispered in the horse's twitching ear. And then they sped off through the rich green undergrowth, tearing Arwen away from the direction her heart yearned to pull her in, grey tree trunks flashing by and all the golden leaves flurrying into a dizzying blur.
But still Arwen twisted round and stared back at the empty gap beneath archway of branches under which Aragorn had disappeared. Her eyes flickered in vain, trying not to lose sight of it in the tide of fresh trees. Despite all her efforts, it was a losing battle. She was soon overwhelmed and it vanished without trace.
"Oh, Estel…" she sighed, and tears welled in her eyes.
