AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks everyone once again! I'm soooo glad you all are enjoying the story. Yay, plenty of fluff in this chap! It's one of my faves, I think. I've really tried to capture all the characters' personalities and reactions as Tolkien would have had them and I hope I have so far. Enjoy ch. 10!
The sun was gone, but the stars bloomed bright in the heavens. The luminous moon was only half of itself. All was well in the valley of Imladris as some slept peacefully while Elves sang with the stars of all that was beautiful.
Aragorn rolled onto his back where he lay in bed attempting to rest. He gently fingered the healing wound on his side, feeling doubt creep into his heart once again. It had been given him by the Warg that had leaped upon him at unawares for it had not been with the others he had slain. They had been wandering—or scouting—further west than he had ever seen them. He saw evil things were stirring more often in his journeying and safe keeping of the Northern lands.
A gust of wind stirred the sheer drapes separating the high balcony from his chambers. He closed his eyes to listen to the whispering of the wind, yet only because of this did he hear his door close when it should have been shut already. He wondered if the cool breeze had created the sound. He opened his eyes and sat up at once.
A shrouded figure had entered his private quarters only to come and stand at his beside; but when they moved he relaxed. "Arwen...you should not be here." He sat straight.
The Evenstar removed the dark cowl, revealing a radiant elven face shining in the soft moonlight that caressed her flawless skin. Her eyes glittered as she sat gently on the bed. "I do not care," she whispered, her voice smooth and mellow. "I came to see you."
Aragorn smiled and reached out a hand to run his fingers along her porcelain cheek. "Then neither do I."
She placed a hand over his lying on the coverlet. "I had to see you, my beloved, for I sensed distress stirring in your mood. You only arrived today, yet..." she paused and lightly touched his side where the warg had injured him, "life has not treated you kindly. Has Elrond seen it?"
"No, yet it is healing for I tended it with athelas. It does not smart as it did on my journey here." He laced his fingers through hers.
She nodded and smiled softly when she gazed into his face. "Then forget the Shadow for a while and remember all that is fair and bright."
"That is why I often remember you, Undómiel," he murmured. Their hands still clasped and unclasped on the coverlet. "You bring hope and shining light to my heart at each and every moment of the night and day."
They arose from that place to stand upon the balcony overlooking the bright land. The moonlight fell upon them in glimmering beams of light. Aragorn turned his head to look upon his fair beloved standing at his side in glorious beauty not seen since the First Age. He smiled, watching her until she turned her attention to him as well.
"I have forgotten why I felt despair," he said. He moved her glistening hair from her face.
"Then I am glad," she said grasping his hand to kiss it. "You always chase away dark, unhopeful thoughts from my mind and fill my heart with a greater love and respect than I have ever felt in all my life. I had not begun to live until I met you in that blessed night."
"All nights with you near are blessed." Aragorn clasped her hands in his feeling the Ring of Barahir upon her finger, that which he had given her when they plighted their troth upon Cerin Amroth in Lórien. He remembered that glorious moment in time more clearly than any other memory.
His memories were interrupted when Arwen met his gaze and leaned up to kiss him. The touch was sweet and savoury for a purer love could not be found in all the reaches of Middle-earth. If one looked upon them in a spiritual sense, the two would have shone with a brilliant and blinding white light like that with which the world was created.
"I love you, Estel," Arwen said drawing back. "I always will."
"And I shall never stop loving you," said Aragorn. He kissed her brow and released her. "Go now to rest. There is always a tomorrow."
1. "Aman ná fúmella."
They re-entered Aragorn's chambers, and Arwen departed silently. Aragorn lay down upon his bed once again, falling into a peaceful sleep.
The next day, Aragorn was returned to his joyous self, and all breathed easier. He straightened his tunic and dried his dripping hair for he had bathed that morning to wash away the stains of travel and to soak his stiff limbs. He left his sword in his bed chambers for in Rivendell there was no need of it, and he followed the wide corridors to a room with its door closed fast. When he knocked, there was no answer. He waited only a moment before coming to another room, this one a library of Imladris joined with a large lounge where one could walk down a few steps to walk upon the grass with trees and foliage all around and stone paths leading to bright fountains.
Two Elf-maidens sat speaking softly to one another in the parlour with a golden haze of sunlight about them. Aragorn glanced at the first, a pale-haired maiden dressed in pale shades of blue. She was beautiful as all Elves are, yet only slightly pretty beside the other. The other looked up through dark lashes with shining eyes and smiled radiantly when she saw Aragorn standing in the archway wearing a content, simple grin. She was clothed in plain grey, but it only accentuated the beauty of her brilliant face with its simplicity.
The pale-haired Elf turned when Arwen looked up and donned a knowing expression. She bid Arwen a good day, then stood to leave. "Good morning, Dúnadan," she said nodding to him as she stood before him.
"Good morning, my lady," he said bowing slightly. He glanced over her shoulder. "I fear I do not know your name."
"I am Elenwë, and I indeed already know who you are." She smiled meaningfully as she bid him farewell. Aragorn and Arwen were now alone.
The bright Evenstar stood to come to his side.
"The day is fair and bright, my lady," he said offering her his arm. "Would you care to enjoy it with me?"
"Gladly. I have been waiting for you, Estel. Is it your wont to take such time?" She slipped her arm into his.
Aragorn smiled and shrugged. "Oh, I suppose I can be as leisurely as you. It is difficult, but..."
Arwen then laughed and gently smacked his arm with her other hand. "I fear I can say nothing more of that for fear of injuring your pride!"
They laughed and took comfort in their time together as they tread the stone paths of the lush courtyards they had come to. Arwen gazed up into the heavens where azure skies glistened in the sun's basking glory when it was not obscured by the bulging, glimmering clouds.
"Perhaps we should ride down into the land," she said.
"Yes, if you wish it. Let us go to the stables."
The two mounted their horses and rode through the stirring trees. The forest opened up into a meadow where shimmering pink flowers dotted the emerald grass. Beyond it were many birch trees bending in the wind.
"Elrohir, Elladan, and I came here many times to practice the sword," Aragorn murmured when his grey palfrey drew up beside Arwen's white stallion.
"They taught me the knife here as well," said Arwen. "That was many long years ago in the reckoning of Men for it was near the beginning of the Third Age when I was still considered young."
"Are they still hunting orcs in the North? I had not heard."
"Yes, as is customary. They stay here for a few months then are absent for longer months. They have never forgiven the Orcs for what they did to mother. Sometimes I wish I could join them, yet I know they will pay the price when the day comes when all that is evil stands before the Valar and Ilúvatar himself. Perhaps they will be slain even before then."
Aragorn smiled. "You would make a great captain, my love; though my heart would be severed at the thought of you in battle."
They rode forward into the gold and green meadow and dismounted near the line of trees. They left their horses to wander as they sat in the fragrant grass, cool beneath them at the base of a mighty tree.
"We also attempted to best one another with the bow," said Aragorn of Elrond's sons as they continued their conversation.
"Who often won?"
He laughed softly at the memory of their games. "No one usually. We all three were too close to best the others, so it was not often we did such contests of skill with the bow. Did they teach you as well?"
"They and my father. My mother watched at times in amusement with all three of her children battling one another as we laughed merrily in our joy. In those days...Elrond was not as melancholy as he has become for all of his loved ones were at hand and the Dark Lord absent for the time being; my brothers were also not so affected while Celebrían was with us." She buried her long, pale feet in the soft grass. "The skill of weaponry is in our blood it seems, so it was not long before Elladan, Elrohir, and I were accomplished bowmen and such."
"I shall have to test them once again," Aragorn said in a thoughtful manner.
"In time," Arwen smiled. "For now you may remain here...Remember when we first met?"
His eyes brightened. "I shall never forget it."
"You were singing the Lay of Lúthien. I deem your voice is still as enchanting, and you are learned in much lore that Elrond has made known to you."
He sat up from where he had leaned upon his arm in the grass. "I see where you are preceding with your words."
"As well you might. What tales do you know?"
"Many. Almost as many as you, I deem."
"I have heard of your skill in the telling and witnessed it myself in Lórien. Will you not recount one that I perhaps have not heard?" She smiled as her head fell forward. "Your voice alone is pleasant to hear. It brings me comfort that I cannot feel when you are gone from my side."
Aragorn thought silently for a moment, gazing into her shining eyes. "Did you ever hear of the meeting of Thingol and Melian when the world began?"
"Nay, I have not. Elrond has not spoken of any kin of Lúthien Tinúviel for some time, and Galadriel only spoke of Melian and her wisdom."
"Then listen and you shall know." Aragorn recounted in full the meeting of Lúthien's mother and father long ages ago before Men had even awoken. Little was known of those times except for this enchanted encounter that would be the first and only joining of the Elves and the Maiar. Thingol was also called Elwë—the High King of the Elves that were first awoken in Middle-earth—who was leading his kindred to the bright shores to sail away to the West to Valinor. The High Elf suddenly was lost when he heard a song sweeter and more beautiful than any that the Elves had yet been blessed with, and so wandered away into the dark woods. There he saw Melian the Maia, who was very fair and bright, and fell in love with her at first sight. She also found him noble and fair. They were joined then in Middle-earth as she forsook Valinor to remain with him.
When he had finished, they were silent for much time. They watched the horses roam the meadow, nibbling the sweet grass and the cool breeze stir the high boughs laden with scores of leaves all around.
Arwen finally spoke. "You have the gift of the Elves it seems," she murmured. "You have woven a vision of splendour and beauty that I shall not forget. Now I have seen the tale in full."
"Then I am glad," he said quietly.
"I wish I could be with you at every moment of every day." There was a glint of sorrow in her eyes. "I wish we did not have to be parted for so long or so often. If only this dark age would end so that we might meet again when all is well and not be apart any longer."
"That has been my wish from the first moment I laid eyes upon you."
Arwen bit her lip and was enclosed by his gentle arms there beneath the fragrant tree with her head pressed against his shoulder. He tenderly fingered her silken tresses with long, soothing fingers.
"Such words only make it more difficult," she said softly. "I cannot bear to be away so long."
Arwen and Aragorn's time together was not long for he had the burden of his fate pressing upon him and was again gone from Rivendell.
Many years passed in the valley of Imladris while Arwen Evenstar remained there. Aragorn had not returned in all that time, and it made Arwen the more anxious to see him once again. She appeared more and more often in his dreams; so in sleep they were never parted, yet in wakefulness they rarely saw each other for but a brief time.
In the waning years, a shadow grew ever stronger in the East in the land of Mordor. Middle-earth was again becoming plagued by the Enemy's minions of darkness and other evil things that appeared more frequently than before. A shadow grew in the minds of Elves for they knew that there was one thing the Enemy was searching for all his years since he had lost it: the One Ring of Power that ruled all others. The Elves had the Three concealed within their realms where the Enemy knew not. Master Elrond held one of these in his power which was Vilya, the most powerful of the Three and also called the Ring of Sapphire because of its deep blue stone.
Arwen Undómiel realised this one evening as the sun was setting in the West where she looked to often.
Elrond came behind her and spoke softly. "Why do you ever look to the West, Arwen?"
Arwen did not answer straightway. She gazed at the bright colours splashed across the horizon for a little longer before speaking in a low voice. She said, "I do not know."
"But perhaps I do, my daughter. There are few Elves who have done so and are not in the West…or will be there soon. But there is one Elf who passed long years ago and did not sail to those white shores," said Elrond soothingly. "You know if you make the same decision you shall never go there, but if you make wiser choices, the light of the West will be before you yet. This choice I would rather you made as I and your brothers have."
Arwen still stared into the West listening to the words of Elrond. They were foreboding and chill to her heart. She rose quietly and looked him in the eye. There were no words between them, yet Elrond yielded at last when he perused her grey eyes. She was not withdrawing on her will, not even for his sake. She had made her choice long ago.
Arwen turned again to watch the sun set. Elrond said nothing but he stood at her side watching as well for he had not done so in many years of the world. It bestowed upon him a strange peace. He sat down, as did Arwen, and they gazed silently.
The fading light caught upon something on Elrond's finger that Arwen glimpsed from the corner of her sight. It sparkled suddenly. She looked more carefully. For a brief moment she saw a beautiful ring set upon his long finger with a shining blue gem in the midst of burnished gold. It was one of the most beautiful she had seen in her days.
Arwen said nothing of it for just as abruptly as it seemed to appear it was not there any longer. She knew of Vilya, the Ring of Power her father bore in his care, yet she had rarely ever seen it before.
1. Blessed be your sleep.