Chapter 4 - Eyes and Lies

As Arwen entered the lofty flet that was her private room under an archway woven with smooth grey branches, a soaring thrill ripped through her chest and she felt herself jump in the air with excitement, almost crying out with the anticipation of joy. For the first time she truly comprehended what she was about to undertake: she was going to be with Aragorn.

With her face illuminated by a smile that shone from the heart, rather more mischievous than usual, she swept around swiftly lighting the lanterns that rested on the sills of the high elegant windows. Unlike most other elves, Arwen had strayed from silvery-white lamps, instead letting different colours of light pour forth from all sides of the room: blues, purples, sunshine yellow and forest-greens. In the middle of the room they all mingled together to make exquisite mixtures; from one angle more of a lilac hue, resembling the hazy Misty Mountains; but in another light seemingly the cerulean of the calling sea, textures of light shallows and darker sea-life rippling through it; and at another moment reminiscent of the deep, rich woodland realm of Thranduil, where the golden sunlight glimmered on the lofty branches and virulent green grass grew on the thick forest floor.

When Arwen stood in the middle of this continually transforming hue, the iridescent colours that were cast upon her shimmered on the bare skin of her face and hands and made Arwen glow surreally, like a mystical magical being, not dissimilar to a Vala. Filled with amazement Arwen turned over her hands and slowly curled and stretched her fingers, moving about the magical colours of light as if she was holding her dreams in her very hands.

The smiles could not be held back from breaking across her face; Arwen could not stop the pounding of her excited heart, she was so delighted with her fresh idea. The prospect of seeing Aragorn had been mind-blowing at first; but now she was elated, and dormant emotions blazed through her veins such as she had not felt for so many years that she had even forgotten how good it was to experience them. She was filled, from silken head to dainty toe, with quivering anticipation like she had once been centuries ago, when she was a little Elfling on the night before her birthday. She felt as naughty as when she had contrived clever machinations to get her own back on her teasing brothers.

Above all she was overwhelmed with relief; knowing that she would so soon be rejoined with her Ranger lightened the load on Arwen's heart and made her feel so glad to be alive and breathing. She loved him so dearly, even though she was obliged to wait so long between those rare occasions of seeing him. But how wondrous those occasions were, and this time she would not bide her time patiently waiting here like a helpless woman dependent on others; was she not the daughter of Elrond, undoubtedly not without some skill and wisdom? She would take matters assertively into her own hands; she knew she could. Arwen had decided that this time she would make sure that they would have a precious chance to be together again…

While her love for him never dimmed when Aragorn was away from her, no matter for how long, to actually be with him made her broken heart feel whole again, he made her complete, so perfectly happy…

Giggles bubbled out from her, an echo of the waves of emotion Arwen felt when with Aragorn. She knew him so well, even though they had had few opportunities alone and hence had spoken together on few matters. It was as if their hearts and minds were connected, and when she gazed into his grey eyes she could feel him within her. Yet her love was not based on common words alone; in secret she had silently watched him many a time, utterly fascinated by his startlingly attractive figure - so much so that by the time night fell she could bear it no more and shrank to his side, swiftly leading him by the hand behind a pillar or tree and at last in the shadows melting into a secretive kiss on those soft lips, desperate to unfold onto him all her love-

-The delaying was far too unbearable. Arwen dashed over to her wardrobe and flicked through clothes, whipping out a few dresses and undergarments and haphazardly folding them up before squashing them unceremoniously into a saddlebag. She found a travelling pack and filled this with the few remains of food in her little cupboard, but did not bother too much about what it was or how much there was of it, seeing as, assuming Galadriel allowed Arwen to leave, she would make sure that Arwen's companions looked after her and fed her well. She fumbled with the ties on the bags before taking them over to the slender grey-wooden door, her cheeks rosy and her eyes bright.

Arwen threw open the door and once more raced up the white ladder, passing many other majestic flets around her in the mallorn's sturdy branches, before she caught sight of the familiar opening in a great floor over her head. She slowed down and stopped, resting a few rungs down from the trapdoor-hole. She made a point of closing her eyes and tried to take command of her unruly breathing. All she had to do was to ask Galadriel with innate meekness and well-deserved respect if she could please be granted leave to journey over the Misty Mountains so that she might visit her Ada in Imladris, because she missed him and his peaceful land too profoundly for her spirit to be at rest here in Lórien.

An assemblage of flitting butterflies beleaguered Arwen's stomach. Passing this off was not going to be accomplished easily. Galadriel was as good a mind reader as anyone had ever been. It would take some skill and courage to cozen her… and if the situation took a turn for the worse, if she was suspected, she must not be tempted to look into Galadriel's eyes or all would be revealed… Arwen shrank with humiliation at the mere thought of confronting Galadriel's severe condemnation. All she had to do was pretend to be very interested in looking at something else in the room. She took a deep breath. In her mind her voice repeated over and over you must stay strong like a mantra while she climbed the ladder.

"Arwen…"

So surprise and on edge was she that Arwen nearly slipped off the ladder. She quickly stepped up into the room and tried her best to resurrect her appearance of patent guilt when having been caught in the act of committing a crime. She raised her eyes up to her grandmother, who was standing there by the trapdoor as if she had known all along that Arwen was coming. As Galadriel brought her into an embrace, Arwen wished Galadriel had not also known her thoughts, and prayed to the Valar that Haldir had not betrayed her confidence and already spoken to Galadriel of what had passed that afternoon.

Once she had been released Arwen strove to act normal and smiled as she went to Celeborn who sat on a high carven chair sifting through some thick leaves of parchment, and she kissed his forehead while he put his arm around her.

"It is a long time since you came up here to visit us!" Galadriel laughed softly and left Arwen shivering ever so slightly at the beautiful and magical voice. Although being lovely, it was also rather unearthly.

"Arwen?" Galadriel said, concentrating her gaze on her granddaughter.

Arwen nodded briskly and smiled emphatically, already sensing that her grandmother was trying to reach into her mind. Galadriel's looks were deceptively innocent; her hair fell down to her waist, wavy golden rivers bright as the morning sun. She wore a long white dress, intricately stitched and with tiny glass beads sewn on, which mirrored her dazzling face. She smiled kindly, and with assurance, and in her pale blue eyes there was wisdom; but Arwen was prepared.

"I am fine, really," Arwen protested boldly and dared to glance up briefly from reading what Celeborn was writing to Galadriel's face. She knew that look, Arwen was certain. Galadriel was calculating her. She knew something. And now she was going to try to tease confirmation out of her.

"We missed you at dinner this evening," Galadriel stated. Arwen shook a lock of hair out of her eyes and looked up innocently.

"I was taking a walk up the river today and… I was not hungry so I lost track of time." Celeborn laughed and shook his head at Arwen's reply; but it was not him who Arwen feared.

"Did you not see anyone all day?" Galadriel interrogated.

Arwen leaned against Celeborn's chair and ran her fingers over the carvings. After a pause she said, "I met Haldir." Her eyes moved up to Galadriel, and she saw the Lady of the Wood boring her eyes into her. "And we saw the Dúnedain leaving," she conceded against her will.

"Yes, we had the pleasure of their company for lunch today," Celeborn said, oblivious to the battling exchange that he was interrupting. "It was a shame you were not there, Arwen, you would have enjoyed it."

Arwen's eyes were like saucers. "I did not know you were expecting them!" she exclaimed, with no thought to conceal her exceptional shock and dismay.

"Our messengers brought us news of their coming late last night, after you had retired," Galadriel said calmly observing Arwen's state of frustration. "We were going to invite you to the banquet, of course, but you had departed early this morning before we could say."

Arwen was clamping a hand to her forehead, silently raging at the unfairness of the situation. She had come even closer to Aragorn than she had thought before! And then she had lost him again! Her fingers slid their grip slowly down the length of her hair, and she let them press hard into her skin as if trying to pull the raging grief out of her mind.

Now was the time to play her role as daughter over her actual place as lover. An insufferable sigh heaved out of her chest, not entirely contrived, and she trained her eyes to the grey floor.

"They are heading north, towards the land of my father, and it has reminded me of a weight that has been on my mind for some time. It is so long since I was with my Ada and I am sure in my heart that he misses me as much as I miss him. I long to walk with him under the singing birches and talk with him again as we used to. Please, I would like to ask your leave to Imladris."

Her eyes, which had been roaming over the walls of the large hall of their own accord, found themselves back on Galadriel. Look guiltless, she reminded herself, your reason was perfectly genuine; smile sweetly. Arwen he had known on previous occasions how eyes could shatter the false impression and give everything away. She relaxed her complexion, softening her eyes, and they shone hopefully in the silvery elven lights.

Immediately Celeborn gave his consent. "Of course, meleth, I wholly understand, you may go as soon as you please, for there is no reason to delay being with your loved ones."

But in spite of her husband's words, Galadriel's eyes were still focussed intently on Arwen, showing no emotion or any sign of agreement so far. Arwen felt herself recoil inside, although she did not physically move, and a sickening fear of anxiety rose up in her. Immediately she felt her face get hot and something started pulsating at the side of her forehead. What had she done wrong? What had she missed? Why was Galadriel not letting her go? Stop looking at me! she heard herself screaming for release inside. Her eyes flew around the room, urgently trying to find distractions.

Do not think of it, she heard herself say, desperately trying to be interested in the faceless black darkness outside a window. Do not say it, she is listening, do not say… Arwen moved her eyes again… this was not working, not working…! Do NOT say it, DON'T say, don't say –

I LOVE ARAGORN!

Shock that she had given way inundated Arwen from every corner and her eyes flew to Galadriel in fear. Galadriel was looking rather stunned.

"What did you say?" her usually cool voice had a slight quaver in it, and this disturbance panicked Arwen. She was now absolutely terrified of what she had done, and she felt her throat tighten dramatically and make her breathing hurt.

Arwen gave a whimper. "I said nothing," she whispered with a frown. Now it was too late, her mind had gone completely blank and useless. She just wished to get out of the whole situation.

"Arwen said nothing," Celeborn repeated, standing now beside his granddaughter. "My love, why do you have misgivings over this? I see nothing wrong in Arwen travelling to Imladris. She will be accompanied to ensure her safety."

Galadriel appeared not to have heard, unmoved by Celeborn's words. She was still watching her Arwen carefully, but as Celeborn stirred beside her, Arwen had the sense that the impounding heat upon her was dissipating.

"Galadriel?" Celeborn called her forcefully, and in confusion strode over to his wife's side.

Now Arwen felt her confidence return, the same acute assurance she felt when Aragorn told her that he loved her, and once more she looked back into Galadriel's eyes. And instead of her grandmother delving inside her thoughts, Arwen felt herself wash into those eyes. She did not black out her mind, nor did she think of anything, she just looked inside, and began to hear, began to feel…

All of a sudden she felt a wave of surprise that was not her own, and she could tell that Galadriel was trying to draw back; and now that Arwen knew she had won their consent, she allowed her grandmother to be released, and she smiled serenely.

"Forgive me, Undómiel," Galadriel said weakly. "…Of course you can go." She smiled at her daughter's child fondly, and Arwen saw the one that she knew and loved back.

"Thank you," she replied appreciatively to each of her grandparents.

In relief Celeborn sighed, also glad to see his wife again, and he turned to arrange the departure with Arwen.

"So that is settled! Now when are you thinking of going, Arwen?"