The Same Woman
By Rose-Arwen-Padme
And So It Begins
The quick pattern of light footsteps echoed softly throughout the opulent hallways. The marble statues of ones wise and regal, located occasionally along the pathway, stared with infinite silence at the passerby.
Carangell hurried past the elegantly carved walls and still statues. She was a lady of the Lady— the graceful Arwen Undomiel. Carangell had been summoned by Lord Elrond to at last fetch his daughter to her wedding.
A small frown creased Carangell's forehead. She worried about her mistress. She had heard Lady Arwen crying herself to sleep too many times in the past weeks to have any blissful feelings about this pending marriage. However, her place was to offer advice only when it was asked, and to support her mistress and friend. She would keep her mouth shut about the endless hours of crying during the night.
Finally, Carangell reached the main door to Lady Arwen's chambers. As she stopped briskly, the hem of her long, deep blue Elvish robes flew around her feet swiftly, tickling her ankles. She raised a hand to tap on Arwen's door, but the second before the thick wood made contact with her fair skin, she found herself being caressed by a soft, brief breeze as the door was rushed open.
Lady Arwen stood tall and fair in the doorway, her black tresses framing her face beautifully.
After a moment of surprise, Carangell timidly asked the elf-maiden in front of her, "Are you… prepared, my lady?"
Arwen's white robes lay in puddles around her feet. As she stepped forward with a nod, indicating with her actions that she was ready to go, ripples spread throughout the puddles of soft fabric.
At first they walked in complete silence down the hallway— only the sound of their shoes continuously meeting the floor met their ears. Carangell searched for something to say… but what do you say to a woman who is on her way to be wed?
Her mother should be with her right now, not I. Her mother should have her comforting arm around her daughter's shoulder, or have her fingers entwined with the fingers of Arwen. She should be whispering soothing words into her only daughter's ear, calming any nervous worries, and placing loving kisses on Arwen's cheek. Instead she is with a quiet servant, surrounded in an awkward silence.
"I am sorry your dear mother could not be here. I'm sure she would be doing a better job of escorting you to your wedding than myself."
Arwen offered her handmaiden a small smile of reassurance. "Thank you, Carangell. Do not worry, dear friend." Her voice sounded lifeless and monotone even to Arwen—no doubt Cerridwen had picked up on it.
The red-headed girl walking beside her swallowed, unsure if what she was about to say was the right or wrong thing. "I know your mother would be very proud of you, if I may say so, my lady."
Whatever Carangell suddenly saw on her Lady's face was instantly hidden as soon as it had started to form—however, as small as it was before it was buried under a serene face, Carangell could have sworn she saw a genuine smile.
There was a new air in Lady Arwen's tone as she spoke, as if she held in her voice the feeling of one who knew a wonderful secret that they would not share. "Oh, Carangell, I do believe that my mother would be very proud of what I am going to do this day. I believe she would be proud of me and my future actions."
This time Arwen was careful to only let her eyes smile, instead of her plush lips, as she observed the look of puzzlement on Carangell's face with amusement. "It will be a day to remember, I promise you." Her eyes danced for a few more moments until Arwen forced herself to look calm and peaceful.
Carangell would have unconsciously dropped her mouth in confused wonderment if centuries of manners and propriety had not practically removed the instinct from her. Her eyes blinked several times, and she moved her stare forwards as she continued to walk, an obvious frown upon her brow.
The corner of Arwen's right cheek tugged on her lips as she suppressed the urge to smile.
In time they reached a moderately sized room, which was located just before the Great Hall. The wedding would occur in the expansive Great Hall, but this room, which was one of many that led into the festive chamber, was for Arwen to wait in temporarily.
With a respectful bow Carangell left her, and proceeded to enter the chamber. The servant was careful to only open the door wide enough for her body to get through—it was tradition for the guests to not see the bride until the actual ceremony began. Although Arwen was able to see some of the guests—who were elaborately dressed for the occasion—none were able to noticed her in the time it took for Carangell to open the door, pass through it, and close it behind her.
Arwen had only a moment to collect her thoughts before the door was opening again. This time her tall, regal father entered. She watched him silently as he closed the door behind him. Arwen was very careful to control her outward attitude. Aragorn had explained very well exactly how she should be acting.
Her voice was smooth and calm as she said, "I am here, Father. How soon is the ceremony to start?"
Lord Elrond regarded her for a long time. His clasped hands, folded together in front of him, remained still. After much time had passed, she raised an eyebrow questionably. Finally, he replied, "I am surprised, Arwen. No angry outbursts? No rash insults or accusations?"
She swallowed. "Time changes many things."
Now he raised an eyebrow—she had inherited the characteristic from him after all. "Am I to believe that you reversed your entire outlook on this marriage in the time span of half an hour? Regardless of the press for time, I gave you much time after speaking with you to settle your thoughts before the ceremony… but not enough time to—"
"Do you wish for this marriage, Father?"
He sighed. "I wish for your happiness, Arwen. I always have."
"Do you wish for this marriage?"
He hesitated before he answered. "I wish to see you happy, and yes, I believe this marriage will bring you happiness."
A smile caressed Arwen's features. "Then what are we waiting for?"
And without a word, she gathered her jeweled robes in her hands and headed for the door. As she near him she slowed, but she only paused briefly by her father side to place a loving kiss on his cheek. As Arwen continued to move towards the door, she called over her shoulder, "Let the anticipated wedding of Lady Arwen Undomiel begin."
Lord Elrond sighed heavily as she opened and passed through the door. She didn't hear him answer her in a quiet voice, "May the Valar aid us." With one more pause, he turned and followed her into the enormous, decorated chamber.
Amongst the guests, who were sitting anxiously in their wooden chairs, a great clatter arose as the word traveled—Lady Arwen was at the far corner of the huge Great Hall. The ceremony was going to begin at any moment.
On the opposite end of the Great Hall from Arwen, as he heard the spreading news, Glir allowed one very smug smile to show through his seemingly timid demeanor.
Only a rugged man, hidden behind and peeking through expansive curtains on a balcony above, noticed this true display of Glir's nature.
The hidden man tightened his grip on his unleashed sword.