The Same Woman
By Rose-Arwen-Padme
Aragorn's Point of View
Elladan, a son of Elrond, watched the mysterious figure creep across his family's grounds. He watched the creature move with the grace of an elf, yet the hood the…yes, the hoodthe personwore prevented from seeing anything more about his features. He realized soon enough, with horror and agitation,that the stranger was headed in the direction of his sister's chambers. ThenElladan wasted no more time trailing, he now rushed to confront and possibly fight.
He ran…he drew his long blade from its sheath by his knee…he quickened….
In a moment he had the stranger pulled up from where he had been crouching behind a bush to pause. Elladan held his razor sharp knife to the person's throat, pressing it firmly enough to where with one more ounce of pressure from him, the stranger would fall to the ground with a slit throat, dead.
Elladan growled into the stranger's ear, "You have but a moment to tell your name, Visitor, or you shall feel the swift cut of my blade, and then feel no more."
Silence.
"Do not make me spill blood on my sister's wedding day, Stranger!"
Finally, a rough, tired, and all to familiar voice answered, "If all goes well, my brother, today will not be Lady Arwen's wedding day."
Elladan dropped his blade. It landed almost silently in a pile of leaves at the Man's feet. He took no notice.
The Man, his back still to Elladan, slowly turned around. More and more of his features became visible as the light from the sun fell upon his face; however the hood he wore still blanketed much of his skin.
But in his heart, Elladan already knew who it was.
Finally the "stranger" completed his half-turn, and now stood facing Elladan. The elf was met with sunken gray eyes that showed evidence of severe lack of sleep, pale lips, and a white, scarred complexion.
"Y-Y….You're dead."
The Man forced a half-heated chuckle that sounded more like choking.
He spoke slowly and gradually in a low tone. "Apparently not."
Elladan's mouth dropped without his knowing of it. He muttered the name only a feather's touch louder than a whisper.
"…….Aragorn."
Aragorn traveled the feet up to the balcony that he had climbed up to so many times before. So many nights he had silently, carefully guided his hands and feet up the vines and branches from the tree next to her wall up to the third story. The third story was where Arwen's bedroom was located, and his breath caught in his throat to think that he was about to see her again in mere seconds.
Elladan staggered up below him. Unlike Aragorn, never once had he ever approached his sister's room by the vines and stones outside her balcony—he had always preferred the door.
Elladan had wanted to run to his father, or at least his brother Elrohir, when Aragorn had hurriedly told him the truth about Glir. Like Aragorn, Elladan wanted revenge for the betrayal, treachery, and lies.
"And so Elrohir would want to tell one," Aragorn had replied. "And that one would desire to tell one more. Soon enough all of Rivendell would know of my living existence except Glir and Arwen!"
"Yes? And what would be the dilemma with this?"
Aragorn had given him a stern, knowing look, and Elladan had said no more. "You know, dear friend and brother, that then my plan could not proceed. I need no one else to know."
Now Aragorn and Elladan climbed the west wall of Arwen's chamber tower, and on this west wall no one but birds and other wildlife could see the Elf and Man climb towards the Lady of Rivendell's west balcony.
Aragorn sighed. Just one more step…one more reach up…
And there she was. His angel. His very reason for living.
Aragorn's breath caught in his throat. Arwen sat in front of her mirror, the very essence of beauty and grace that she always had been. However… something, no, many things were different about her. She sat like a statue, not moving an inch in her seat. She gazed upon her imagein the mirror with a very distant look. Her eyes, once so blue and captivating that she easily made the most beautiful sky look plain, now looked lifeless and… dull. There were dark circles under her dreary eyes—it was obvious she had not been getting any sleep for a very long time. Her skin, once so fair and ivory, was now still just as smooth, but had lost it's glow. Arwen's hair had once been so rich, such a calling to the fingers of his hands to run through, but now beckoned less than the heavy drapes hanging in her room.
What had happened to his Arwen? She looked so depressed, as if the entire world around her had been destroyed. She did not move an inch, and yet the look on her face expressed the worst kind of pain—emotional. Her eyes were closed now; she looked as if she were about to cry. What had that Glir done to her!?! For of course it could be no one else fault, no one else's but Glir's. When he got his rough, yearning, strong hands around Glir's neck…
All the same, he sighed with relief to see that Arwen was alone. He would be able to talk to her, finally. That is, until he heard a voice-- a hated, despised, sound-- echo underneath her closed door.
"WHERE IS MY BRIDE?!"
He immediately recognized the despicable person as Glir. He had to control himself from not leaping over the balcony and drawing his sword to bring down the villain right then and there. He glanced at Elladan. He could easily see the protective brother was having the same difficulty of remaining silent and still. But no…for their plan to work, Aragorn needed to stay "dead" to everyone, except Arwen. He contented himself to just peer over the ledge, seeing just enough where he was not seen in return.
The loud stomps outside her closed door preceded Glir's arrival, when he threw open the door, marched in, and shut it with a crash behind him. The growling elf was dressed in ceremonial Elvish attire. Aragorn winced in the stab of emotional pain—groom attire. The swirling of darkness in Glir's eyes…Aragorn wondered why he had not picked up on this demon's true nature before anything had happened. He, along with Elladan beside him, watched every move Glir made around Arwen, careful not to miss a step, or a mere shuffle of weight from one foot to another.
The dark shadows in his eyes were matched by the darkness in his tone as he opened his frowning mouth to speak. "My bride, Arwen, is you." He stared at her through the mirror.
Aragorn closely watched Arwen's reaction. This was it. This would tell him whether his heart had been betrayed so soon after death, or if this was some sort of conjunction of Glir's. He prayed for the latter.
Her opened eyes told him all he needed to know, but her monotone voice as she answered convinced him all the more. "I know this. You do not have to remind me of our upcoming nuptials, Glir."
Aragorn's rush of relief was cut short as he watched Glir march across the room, covering the space between himself and dear Arwen in a matter of seconds. For a moment Aragorn feared Glir might actually strike her.
Glir would die before his his hand was drawn…But no, Glir stopped his hurried stomping a hair from Arwen's back. Aragorn released the tight hold he had on his sword's handle—something he hadn't been aware he had been doing. Glir swayed in his sudden spot, either from the unbalance of going from almost running to an abrupt stop, or from the boiling anger evident inside of him.
Glir moved his ten shaking fingers, four of which were decorated with elaborate rings, towards Arwen's shoulders, and positioned them near her collarbone in a curved placement—almost like a choking illusion.
His voice sounded timid, but beneath the even tone a thunderstorm could be heard awakening.
"An…arrangement…you dare to call it, Arwen?"
"This is not a marriage, nor is this a ceremony for a marriage."
Aragorn watched the conversation through unfaltering eyes.
"There is a holy one to conduct the ceremony. There is an audience, and there are decorations. There is a broom waiting to make you his wife. Gods, there are even refreshments for afterwards! Does this not constitute a marriage ceremony?"
"A marriage is about two people loving each other, being in love, and swearing to love each other for the rest of their lives. I gave my love to one, and forever will it be to that one." Arwen turned her upper body in her chair to face Glir, and looked him directly in the eyes. Her voice was full of raw conviction. "I will always love Aragorn, and no other." She turned forward again in her chair, and resumed making eye contact with him through their reflections. "That is why is arrangement could never be a marriage."
Aragorn wanted to spring from his hiding spot to kiss her body with the power and passion of—
"Can you not see—" Arwen gasped and winced again under his hands, as they severely tightened their grips on her shoulders to the point of pain. Aragorn stirred anxiously from his perch, "—that the mention of Aragorn distresses me? Can you not see that I am far better than him, that you will one day come to love me?!"
Aragorn struggled to take in the hint of restriction that Elladan's stern look sent him. He took a deep breath, desperately trying to control his emotions.
He himself almost jumped as Arwen bounded out of her chair, knocking it over, and then faced Glir with a piercing look of rage that could freeze all of Mount Doom from base to peak. "I could never love you!" Aragorn could see her eyes blaze with pure fury, and silently reminded himself never to cross this "timid" elf-maiden.
He looked quickly to Glir, anticipating the elf's reaction. Glir merely cracked a smile at Arwen. "Never say never, Arwen Undomiel. We both know ever is a very long time." He paused momentarily. Sarcasm dripped from his lips as he continued, "Too bad your Aragorn had no idea of it."
Even Aragorn hadn't been expecting Arwen to slap Glir before the elf took another breath. The sound of flesh striking flesh ringed in Aragorn's ears. He now worried that Arwen might have gone to far, but that didn't stop his heart overflowing with pride and love as he listened to Arwen's words. "You arrogant, hideous, conceited, heartless beast!! You're nothing like Aragorn!! You are dust in his—" her voice cracked with emotion, "—would be dust in his eyes! As you are in mine! And you wonder why I could never love you?!! Can you not see that I want nothing to do with you?! That I hate you?! That I wish in every fiber of my depressive being that you were dead?! You are—"
He never heard what else Arwen thought Glir was, for he watched, horrified, as Glir's right fist abruptly sent his true love the stone floor.
Had Elladan not been there to hold Aragorn back, this entire tale might have ended differently. Had Elladan not been there to stop Elessar from bounding, sword drawn, into Arwen's room, much of the later history might have been different. As it was,Elladan was still powerless to stop the shout that escaped Aragorn's throat as he struggled against his restrainer. Elladan froze as Glir's head snapped towards the balcony. Even then, Aragorn fought to get inside, to reach Arwen. To comfort her, kiss her, love her unconditionally…
"The plan!" Elladan desperately whispered into Aragorn's ear, silently pleading with him to be quiet and still, while Glir's sharp eyes still lingered in their general area. "Stay true to the plan, Estel!"
Aragorn fought once more in vain, relunctantly settled down, and nodded in defeat. He broke free of Elladan's constricting arms, but remained hidden.
Only after Glir's eyes returned to Arwen did Aragorn's eyes immediately returned to Elladan.
"You have no idea what you just asked of me. You do not know what torture my very being just suffered," he whispered, loud enough for onlyElladan tohear and understand.
Elladan only glanced at him. "Your welcome, Estel."
Aragorn glared at him, then refused to waste another second not looking upon Arwen. His heart broke one thousand times again. She was lying, eyes closed, on the cold, hard floor. Though no tears escaped her, she looked defeated, crushed, vulnerable. Oh, my dearest love…
Glir stood above Arwen's limp body, and his chest swelled with satisfaction. He closed his eyes, smiling, and Aragorn wanted to kill him all the more.
"Let me tell you what you are, Arwen. You are a thoughtless, careless elf-maiden, who was once the greatest being to walk Middle-Earth, and now is just a disgrace to her family."
If anything angered Aragorn as much someone physically hurting Arwen, it was someone daring to speak words of dishonor towards her. Both extreme angers he had never experienced until these very five minutes. Elladan's glare reminded him that Glir would not be in the room forever, and soon enough Aragorn would be able to hold her as tightly as they both wanted.
A whisper of firmness crept into Arwen's voice. "At last, you recognize the truth… now why don't you act like you do?" Glir remained silent. "I wonder. You know that you will never take Aragorn's place in my heart…but to you know that you will also never take his place in my father's heart?"
Aragorn felt love pour out of him, now for the Elf-lord who had become his father. And Elladan—and Elrohir! Both who cared for him like an equal brother. Glir had not only stolen Aragorn away from Arwen, but from his family.
"You're father is no fool. He will forget your pathetic Aragorn in good time."
Arwen's look of pure hatred returned full-force. She braced her upper body up on one arm to look up at him in disgust, her other hand still holding the right side of her face. "Aragorn was my father's third son! He raised him since he was no more than a child! He loved him like his own! How dare you say he will forget him at all?!"
Aragorn watched as Glir knelt down on his hinges till he was eye level with Arwen. Glir smiled with enough arrogance to fill up the Gap of Rohan. He smugly told why he dared to say Elrond would forget Aragorn.
"Because his lovely daughter will be talking non stop about her wonderful husband. He will hear so many wonderful things about me from you, yourself Arwen, that he will not even be able to recall his former "third son's" name." Glir straightened himself, and smoothed out a spot on his robe. "The ceremony is starting soon." He paused. "Don't you dare be late, Arwen."
Aragorn forced himself to watch and wait until Glir had left the room before he began to move, but Elladan held him back until the footsteps had receded down the hall. By then, they both could hear Arwen's sobs echoing from her room.
"Aragorn," Elladan muttered. "Go to her. I will follow Glir." He paused again. "Go comfort her."
Aragorn didn't waste another moment. Elladan disappeared over the balcony, gone to trail the elf the rest of Rivendell knew as his future brother-in-law.
Could his heart break anymore that day? Arwen, proud, noble, regal lady of Rivendell and Loftlorien, daughter of Celebrain and Elrond, granddaughter of the Queen Galadriel, and the loveliest, kindest, fairest creature Aragorn had ever met, was crawling on her hands and knees across her own bedroom floor. The sight nearly tore his heart from his chest, and he let out a cry of anguish over her despair. She did not hear it over her own sobs that racked her body, stealing the last of her innocence with every tearful gasp. As he made his way across the vast room, Aragorn felt the hot tears fall upon his cheeks, but he did not bother to wipe them away. What were one thousand of his tears compared to one of hers? Arwen grabbed the bedpost and dragged herself up. Up to her full height, as unbeknownst to her Aragorn was coming ever closer with every quick step, she leaned her pale forehead against the wooden polish of her corner bedpost. Aragorn worried he might collapse before he reached her, or else go blind from the collection of tears in his eyes, but no…oh, the Valar, he was beginning to smell her unique beautiful sent again, which he hadn't smelt in months.
He could not see, but he could hear, and he could smell, and he followed those senses. When he knew he was behind her, Aragorn extended a gentle hand over her mouth to stop any scream of surprise. With his other had he finally wiped the stinging tears from his eyes. Arwen turned in his arm—oh how he had missed those eyes gazing into his own!
Her mouth dropped, her eyes went wider, and her sobs temporarily ceased.
Aragorn cradled her in both of his arms. "Shhh…I'm here, my love….shhh… I'm here, I am always with you." He bent his head back, meaning to scream, "Oh, Valar!", but was instead only able to manage a weak cry.
Aragorn kissed her tears away in a hurried motion, yet didn't miss a single droplet. "I love you, Arwen, oh, I love you." Arwen cried even harder, and Aragorn pressed her even closer to his chest. "I love you, my Evenstar."