The Same Woman
By Rose-Arwen-Padme
Rivendell
Aragorn used all of his skills that he had obtained since childhood to sneak his way deeper and deeper into Rivendell. Here a servant would come, there he would quietly but quickly duck behind a bush from view, waiting as they passed. He knew exactly where he was going; the trouble was getting there unnoticed. However, Aragorn was a man with a mission.
He hadn't bothered to learn anymore information from the drunk elves he had met on the road. The second he had finished his very large swig from the barrel, he had drove his horse all the way to the Rivendell gates as fast as possible. If Aragorn had been racing the wind, he would have won by a large measure.
Elf-maidens he recognized as two of the Lady of Rivendell's handmaidens walk by, one carrying something that looked like a large bouquet of white flowers. She talked giddily with her companion. He could catch a few phrases here and there.
"Most beautiful wedding dress ever…." "Luckiest creature in the world to be marrying such an elf…" "Will have the most beautiful children… such a handsome groom…"
Aragorn's blood boiled.
He needed answers. He needed to know. He needed to confront that dead-elf-walking Glir.
And he needed to confront Arwen.