Chapter 2 – The Same Garden
Aragorn smiled lovingly at Arwen and her eyes shone in return. Then, together, they began to walk slowly away up the valley, passing under the bowing white branches of the birch trees.
"I have heard who your father is," Arwen said. Aragorn glanced at her, slightly confused by her words.
"Are you talking of Arathorn?" he answered unsurely.
"I am sorry, I meant Ada." An expression of recognition passed over his face.
"Ada- Elrond?" Arwen nodded. Aragorn spoke warmly. "Yes, he has cared for me since I was a young child."
Arwen spoke with a glimmer of mirth in her voice. "It is strange to think we both have had the same father." Aragorn smiled too. "But you were right the first time, your blood father is Arathorn. And of late I have heard a great deal about his son."
Aragorn turned to face the elf-maiden apprehensively, and she smiled. "Do not fear, they were all good things!"
Arwen waited until he had glanced away before she continued. "I could not tell you how happy I was to meet you." She looked sideways at Aragorn, pretending to not have as he then looked at her, and for a moment his words were halted.
"True that may be, but my first meeting with you, my lady, is and forever shall be priceless."
Arwen immediately hid her face from him as her cheeks turned a heated rosy-colour.
"Aragorn, you need not to call me your lady. We are not acquaintances." It was now his turn to redden.
For a while they walked along in silence, already brought closer to each other. Both were more content to be in the other's presence than they would ever know.
Aragorn spoke out again a few blissful minutes later. "How long has it been since you last walked in Imladris?"
With a heavy heart Arwen sighed. "Many years. Too many, I believe. Things here have changed. They have changed everywhere." There was an ominous gap. "Darkness is growing again. The shadows are growing longer. Everything is changing." In her voice Aragorn could hear her sadness.
"The enemy has awoken. But do not speak of such evil now. Today is beautiful."
"You are right. I need not think about the Shadow today." Her tone became lighter. "Please take me somewhere special. It would give pleasure to me greatly to see the beauty that still flourishes in my father's realm."
Aragorn smiled. "Certainly, my favourite garden is nearby. I am sure you will fall in love with it." He looked into her eyes and saw her delight. She mouthed 'thank you' as Aragorn began to lead the way forward.
The ground started to slant upwards, and although it was not very noticeable at first, soon it became very steep. At one point Arwen thought she heard the rush of the high waterfall of the valley, but it faded as they turned round a kink in Aragorn's rising path.
The trees grew thicker on each side, thriving in the well-nourished soil, and high waving emerald ferns and bushes of pink heather closed in tightly around them. The long slight branches of the birches created a beautiful archway above them as they climbed up the increasingly steep slopes, and dappled sunlight spellbindingly danced around their feet.
The journey seemed timeless to Arwen as they steadily climbed up. The thick undergrowth reaching to even over her waist had a wonderfully fresh woodland scent, and the trail of Aragorn's winding pathway suddenly caused long-forgotten memories of her times in Rivendell to flood back to her in one huge wave. Each tree had a story to tell, the songs of the birds rained down memories of different days, and the scent of elderflowers locked her in the past. Even the tiny blue flowers on the tree-climbers tried to wrap Arwen in fair images of herself when she had been younger.
But not quite.
Something else was entrancing her, something new was leading her mind astray.
Aragorn had stirred her heart from the moment she had seen him, and as her eyes traced over him she found that every single thing about him she loved more tenderly each time. He was unbelievably gentle to her and he talked with such care and kindness that she felt special to the very ends of the world. He was extremely concerned if she was unhappy, and if she laughed, then his face lit up like one hundred stars and his smile melted her down instantly like a white-hot flame.
Arwen could not take her eyes of Aragorn's body, no matter how hard she tried. She just watched him as his long dark hair fluttered while he walked, and beams of sunlight fell down and highlighted gleaming golden streaks there, so silky that she desired to reach out and fondle them. All the time she wished he would turn and gaze at her, for his eyes were so deep and so adoring, and she could sense his soul beneath them, and it touched her where nobody else had before.
Every time he turned round to check that she was there, smiling and catching her eye, she found that she could not help also smiling but then shyly looking down. When he had turned back she lifted her eyes up to watch him again, carefully walking up the slopes, lightly stepping over the stones, and holding low branches which overhung their way back for her. Just the way he was acting was so kind to her, and she found that it touched her further than anything had, moving her in such a strange way. She could not help acting coyly around him.
Aragorn stopped ahead of her, and watched as she demurely came after him, her feet passing silently over the yellow cowslip flowers. As she paused next to him, he noticed her eyes flickering lingeringly up over himself until she met his eyes. They were warm and sensitive.
"We are almost there," he spoke softly. "Close your eyes and let me lead you."
Arwen blinked, her deep eyes pouring into his.
"Go on…" he said.
With her heart racing in her chest Arwen gently shut her eyes, completely giving all her trust to him. Immediately her senses felt sharpened and everything around her seemed more intense. She felt Aragorn lovingly take her hand and begin to walk slowly forward. She could hear crickets chirping in the long grasses and the chaffinches' midday song in the trees way above her. As she gradually followed on in his tracks, yielding leaves brushed over her long dress, and little petals fluttered down onto her nose and cheeks. A new fragrance filled the air, one of fresh, sweet flowers, which enlivened her spirit and lightened her step.
Then Arwen felt things changing. The sparse grass and leafy floor rapidly turned into a thick carpet of grass, delightfully soft to walk on, and closing in over her bare feet completely. The sound of birds faded into the background while the soothing hum of dragonflies wafted through the warm air. She came out into the sun, hot rays falling down upon her skin. The plants around her pulled back and she walked out into a clearing. There was a dreamy splash of water and the sound of it running away down a narrow channel.
Aragorn still held her hand gently and took her very slowly into the middle of the small garden. He spoke out to her through the painting of natural music around them.
"You can open your eyes."
Arwen sighed shakily, surprised to find herself breaking down at his soft voice, but still did not let go of his familiar hand. She was extremely curious to see the garden to which he had brought her, and the thrill was shooting through her veins and sending them on fire. Cautiously Arwen opened her eyes.
She gasped.
Her sight opened upon a sparkling blue waterfall ahead of her, just higher than she stood, and the water fell down in glistening droplets with tiny rainbows captured inside each one. There were snow sprays as the cool water collided with the sapphire pool. Echoes slipped over the smooth surface, ripples the colour of ocean tides, and it slid into a narrow stream. The water trickled away through the sea of pink clover-rich grass, teasingly slurring as it vanished through the colourful beds of flowers encircling the garden, no doubt to drop down in another waterfall. But not one so graceful or romantic.
"It's beautiful…" Arwen spun round in circles, trying to take in everything at once. Aragorn smiled and moved with her, clasping her hand affectionately. He told her about all the surprises and secrets of every single thing they could see, and Arwen struggled to believe her eyes.
White evening flowers tumbled down from rocks high above the waterfall, and thriving handfuls of forget-me-nots sprang out of needle-thin cracks. There were the bright bell bushes of frescias which looked like purple petticoats, intermingled with fountains of wild daisies. Rich pink and baby-yellow honeysuckle clambered up the safe enclosing trees, pouring down a heavenly scent, above clusters of plants which Arwen did not know the name of, ones with hot orange flowers with green pixie hats over their buds.
Niphredil flowers were scattered about the tree roots as if someone had lightly thrown them out of a basket as they danced round the garden in a ring. Lavender bushes waved their violet heads high above the ground as the pink and red roses curved above them in arcs. A low cherry tree stood at the west side, reaching out its long branches heavily laden with fruit. Arwen spun round to see where she had entered the little garden, only to find the gap sealed by an elegant silver birch with spinning crystal leaves.
"It's beautiful, Aragorn," she said again in amazement as she looked around once more. "But- how did you know?"
Aragorn frowned and turned to face her. "How did I know what, Arwen?"
Now she looked confused as well. "I - I thought you said that this was your favourite place. But it is mine. Maybe I heard you wrong."
Aragorn shook his head. "No, you heard me right. This is my favourite garden. But, how did it come to be that you loved this garden too? I have never told anyone of it."
"Would that you told me the same answer," she replied. "But I am very glad that nobody else knows about this garden. It is very precious to me." She smiled, a little more meaningfully perhaps.
"I found it years ago, just by chance. Whilst exploring in the woods I stumbled through the trees into the clearing. I do not know anything about it, as I have not spoken of it to anyone else… apart from you now." Aragorn met her sparkling eyes.
She blinked and a curious smile crept up as she struggled to refrain from asking him the question of why he had only ever brought her here and no one else.
"Thank you, Aragorn. It means a lot to me." He smiled and Arwen felt her heart beat even quicker. "But I would like it if you could tell me all the secrets you know about this garden." As she said this, Aragorn caught a mischievous glint in her eye.
"Of course. Then let us sit down and I can tell you everything."
He led Arwen over to the other side of the mirror-like pool, stepping over the little stream, and they both sat down very close to each other at the waters' edge. Arwen slid her feet gracefully into the water, without making so much as a ripple, whereas Aragorn made more of a quiet splash. He leant back on his arms, rolling up his sleeves.
"Well, I know that this garden always seems to make me happy whatever mood I am in," he began, seeing Arwen watch him intently. "When I was a child I found countless things to do – the elderflowers make a wonderful cordial to drink - it enlivens your senses - and the wild strawberries are sweet and juicy. The bright red cherries are lovely to eat and make a wonderful pie. I used to climb in that sycamore tree and the hazelnut tree over flocks many birds. Just past where we came in I made a wigwam when I was nine."
Arwen strained to see it through the thick green leaves. She smiled as she caught sight of the long straight branches twisted together at the top.
"The leaves from that tree make perfect boats and the clump of bushes with pink flowers just here is a brilliant place to have a den under. Up on those rocks you can always find ladybirds, and the shells on the fruits of that strange plant can be hollowed out to make a musical instrument, which calls rabbits to you in hops and bounces. The butterflies are so tame they will come and land on your hair, and in summer there will not be a day when a dragonfly does not come to drink from the pool. The water is warm even in winter and the silver pebbles on the rocks at the bottom are so pretty that your Ada thought I had been given them by someone who had been to the sea."
"I did that!" Arwen laughed. "I gave a whole necklace to my mother and he thought I had taken it from somebody. I asked why and he said that he had only ever heard of ones like these to have come from the sea. He even thought that they came from the shores of Valinor!"
Aragorn smiled. "This garden never needs tending, and yet it has looked as beautiful as it did the day I first stumbled across it. The lavender perfume is so strong it can send you into a long, untroubled sleep if you sniff enough of it. Swallows fly over, but it is nightingales which linger here every time I come. Arwen-" he paused "-um, somehow they remind me of you." She looked at him questioningly but he could not explain anymore.
"The sweet peas have a sweet subtle scent issuing from the thin lilac flowers. I adore the baby-starshaped flowers of the hydrangea bush, with the delicate blue shades and heart-warming pinks. In between the branches I made a tiny tree-house." Arwen looked and indeed he had, and she was startled by the skill he had, for the style was unbelievably similar to the flets in Lothlórien, and even an accomplished elf with crafting hands would take many days to produce such a slight and elusive tree-house.
"Arwen, the petals of the deep red roses are so supple it is as if they are made from the silk as my best shirts. And the silvery-white evening flowers are so beautiful that they could be entwined in your hair and you would look like a dream."
Arwen smiled and glanced away from him shyly.
Aragorn struggled to think of anything else. "Hmmm, and, I love to bathe in the pool."
Arwen suddenly looked at him with an expression of shock. "You have been in this pool!"
Aragorn frowned. "Yes; why? There is nothing wrong, I think. It does always seem to make me dreamier afterwards though." He gazed around thoughtfully. "Yes, I have found that if I have hurt myself then the water heals my wounds if I bathe in it." He looked at Arwen and saw her positively not making eye-contact with him.
"There is something you're not telling me about this water, Arwen." He sat back up and watched as her cheeks turned a little pinker and she stared resolutely down at the water around their feet. A smile crept up his face at this. "I am afraid that you cannot hide it now."
Her voice was thin. "No, no, the water is fine, it will not hurt you."
"Arwen, I know that. But there is something else about the water, something which you cannot lie to me about. I know there is."
She did not reply. A plan came into Aragorn's head.
"So you don't mind if I just take a drink from the pool?" Arwen's eyes shot up in alarm as Aragorn took a smoothly curved rock from beside him and dipped it into the water.
"No, don't drink it!" She cried in fear, taking the cupped rock from his hands.
Aragorn smiled. "Oh, so there is something you are not telling me."
Arwen flushed a deep shade of crimson and a lock of hair fell down to partly obscure her face. Aragorn soothingly drew it back and tucked it behind the point of her ear. She looked up into his eyes, chewing her lip.
"What is this? A blushing elf-maiden? Such a rich colour of red… I have never seen an elf reveal their embarrassment before…" If it was possible Arwen blushed even more and could not bear to hold his gaze.
Smiling kindly Aragorn delicately pulled the rest of Arwen's hair back over her shoulders so that it rippled down her back. He could feel her shivering at his touch. "You don't have to tell me if you do not wish to, Arwen. I do not mind if you cannot talk about it to me." His voice fell. "I still like you."
Arwen smiled and finally looked back at him. "Hannon le, Estel," she whispered breathlessly. As she gazed into his mystical grey eyes she suddenly noticed that they were flickering all over her face and even below, down her body. She felt so full of emotion her heart seemed to rise up and get lodged in her throat. Then a tender thought came into her head. Could it be possible that he felt the same way as she did?