I just want to say thanx to everyone who has read this story so far, and I would appreciate it so much if u would review and give me your views on how this is going. Here's a sweet chapter for you!

Chapter 6 – A Shower of Petals

Arwen ran through the wild gardens, lime green and rich emerald leaves flashing around her as she fled. Her gentle hands shielded her eyes from scratches, and she ran as fast as she could. The slim form of her body flickered through the tumbling colours of the blossoming gardens, slipping over the soft grasses, lighter than a deer and swifter than a panther.

She was so happy that she Arwen ended up almost skipping past the wild beds of flowers, the long sleeves of her deep red dress which fell from her wrists rippling like water, and the hem around her feet trailing behind over the dry ground. Around every turn she strained for the sight of one person who was causing her all this joy and excitement, murmuring his name under her breath; and she became not far from desperate to reach the man she had seen sitting under the tree.

Then finally, coming through a curtain of ferns and tall daisies, Arwen saw ahead of her, down a narrow path of natural unkempt lawn, the small figure in the shadows. Leaping with joy Arwen called out to him.

"Aragorn!"

She moved even quicker now, anticipating the pleasure of being in his company, and filled with the exhilaration from her rush to reach him. She saw his long sun-golden hair slipping from behind his ear as he read a book which lay in his lap. His agile body was clothed in a light blue shirt, with sparkles of silver entwinements, and the rest of his garments were either midnight blue or dark violet. His hand turned over a page with care.

"Aragorn!"

Arwen now ran forward the last distance, swinging the basket, unable to withhold her sudden bursting explosion of excitement. The young man looked up at the sound of his name, scrambling hurriedly to his feet as soon as he saw who had called him.

"Arwen…" She halted just in front of him, a healthy pink colour in her cheeks and her whole face shining with a brilliant glow. A huge smile was on her lips and she almost felt like laughing she felt so happy to find him.

"Aragorn, I'm so sorry about the butterflies yesterday. I forg- I did not mean for them to be such a nuisance to you. You should have found me first."

Aragorn laughed. "A nuisance? No, I did not mind them in the slightest. They were such beautiful butterflies – the pinks, blues, purples, yellows, greens – I loved having them around me. Your Ada was not as impressed by your skilful magic. He could do nothing except wait for you to come and lift the charm. But surely you did not come all this way just to apologise?"

Arwen smiled broadly at his flattering. "Um… no, actually… I was hoping I could… mmm… maybe… talk to you?" she ended in a timid question.

Aragorn smiled gently. "Of course," he murmured to her. "Thank you." He met her eyes and once again Arwen blushed.

"But… oh no…" a sudden problem occurred to her and stormed her hopes. Aragorn seemed deeply concerned. She looked at him. "I have been helping Ada in the orchards, picking fruit for our pies at this evening's meal. He thought I might as well help, seeing as I could not find you all morning. He said I could find you this evening. But when we came I saw you reading under the tree. And now Ada thinks I am still there, just out of sight. If I do not go back with anything perhaps he will be somewhat annoyed."

"Do not worry," Aragorn replied, his eyes showing his understanding and he smiled at her story. "Sit down for a while. You deserve it. I can pick some blackberries for you. There is a long hedge full of them all along this pathway."

Arwen bit her lip. "Are you sure? You should not really… don't-"

"It is fine. I do not mind at all." He watched Arwen coyly sit down on the grass and fold her dress over her legs. Gently he took the basket from her hand and made to go over to the scratchy clump of brambles not far from where she stood. But Arwen then noticed Aragorn sliding his book suspiciously behind his back, trying to put it down behind the tree trunk so that she would not see it. Arwen was intrigued by why he was hiding it from her.

"What book is that?" she asked, clearly breaking his hopes that she would not see that he had been reading. Cautiously he brought it out, and came slowly back to her acting rather wary. He kept a couple of fingers in between some of the pages, marking where he had come up to.

"It is the Lay of Lúthien and Beren … my favourite tale." Before Aragorn could say anymore Arwen had slipped the manuscript from his hands. She made sure to keep his page for him, but she was also very keen to see it for herself. With another shy glance at her Aragorn left and went to pick the blackberries for her.

To Arwen the book certainly looked old and well-used as she scanned her eyes over the front cover. There was some attempt to keep it flat, but the bottom corners of all the pages were turned upwards and many were bent all over the place. She felt crinkles over the outside and, as she flicked through, the front few leaves slid downwards and she had to catch them before they wafted down to the floor.

Smiling, Arwen now examined the front illustration in more detail. Two golden trees at the sides in the foreground framed the more delicate painting in the middle. A high waterfall rushed down a huge drop from a rugged but rich landscape. Dark green trees coated the moonlit land and scattered pools were spread around the black floor. But up in the distance, silhouetted against the blue sky, were two tiny people sitting together on a single paused horse. Beren and Lúthien.

As she thought this Arwen shivered, but she did not understand why, yet she felt something stir in her heart. She decided to watch Aragorn to take her mind of this. But then she wondered why he had seemed a little unhappy to show her the book. Was he embarrassed? No, that could not work… could it? She looked back at the manuscript before placing it on the grass, downwards so that it would keep his page. But her hold was too loose and it slipped and bounced onto the ground, falling quite clearly on a different page.

Feeling curious, Arwen checked that Aragorn was not watching. He was completely unaware of what she was doing. Then, now acting self-consciously, she carefully picked up the heavy book. Turning it over, she examined the yellowed-leaf.

Immediately she gasped and dropped the book on the grass.

"Are you okay?" Aragorn called to her, having heard the quick commotion. Arwen nodded, caught by surprise, and watched him turn back furtively.

She still could not believe what the words imprinted into her mind still read. It had been a very tender meeting of Lúthien and Beren, after she had saved him from Tol-in-Gaurhoth (the Isle of Werewolves). She had loved Beren so much that she had risked her own life against Sauron so that she could free him, and now they were together, at last… and of course Beren had fallen in love with her again so deeply, that they had kissed…

Humming, Arwen turned to watch Aragorn. It had been obvious that he had not lied to her, and thus it was even more so that this was the place in the whole lay which he liked most. That was fine. She gingerly picked up the book for a second time, now flicking through the pages. Although it always fell open on the same page, there were definitely others which looked incredibly well read and fingered.

Placing the book down again, she noticed that Aragorn's basket was very full of the succulent berries, and he paused before deciding he had finished. She jumped up. Smiling he walked over to her, and laid the basket down in the shade.

"Thank you very much," Arwen said. Her voice dropped. "You are very kind to me, Aragorn."

He sighed after meeting her eyes, and then stooped to pick up his book. Seeing this Arwen found her heart beat suddenly in her chest. "It is nothing, Arwen," he replied. "I am happy to. Really."

He gave her a look and then slowly began to walk out into the sun. Arwen followed closely by his side, wondering what he meant. She watched him nervously as he frowned, and his eyes roamed over the opened double page of the Lay of Lúthien, unexpectedly realising it was not the one he had just finished on. An expression of misunderstanding passed over his face, for he had been sure he had left it in the right one. Arwen held her breath. Would he assume she had done it?

But Aragorn closed the book and held it down to his side. Arwen, after the first wave of relief, strangely discerned that he never once looked at her when finding out that the page was different. Did he trust her more than himself?

"Arwen?" she looked up at her name, "Where would you like to sit?" Her gaze travelled around the cosy surroundings, the vivid blue sky and the hazy clouds, down to the shimmering trees with their feebly fluttering leaves, and then over the grass and the odd stones and purple flowers.

She smiled beautifully at him. "Wherever you like, Aragorn. I think here is fine." He agreed, acting very courteously around her, watching her amiably, taking her hand and helping her sit down on the most cushiony tuffet of grass for miles around, then sitting silently beside her before brushing a stray petal off her shoulder.

Arwen giggled as he did this, and he placed the pale pink petal in the centre of her palm. It tickled her, and she took the petal, rubbing it soothingly between her fingertips, and put it lightly on his chest, accompanied with another smile.

"I think it suits you better!" Aragorn laughed, and stretching out to a bush next to him, he swiped his hand through, scattering a million little petals like pearls into his hands. Then in one puff, and a look which could melt an iceberg, a whole shower fluttered down around her, like a picture from a fairytale dream.

The petals landed all around her slim body, and stayed upon the luscious curves in her velvety dress, and immediately skittered off her hands; but in the way they rested like fresh morning dew drops in her ebony hair, and ran past her delicate pointed ears, and balanced on her nose, she looked so beautiful that she could easily be one of the Valar who dwelt in the Blessed Realm.

Arwen moved slightly, nearer to Aragorn, and a wave of hair slipped out from being tied back, and fell forward past her cheek. She looked at him shyly as a few more petals flurried like snow in the air among them, framing her eyes like an elven princess.

Aragorn leant forward to gently fondle her stray lock of hair. She found herself edging closer to him, almost able to feel his loving touch as he ran his fingers over her silky hair.

"Some say that you are the fairest maiden to ever walk this earth…" he mused quietly. Arwen self-consciously glanced away, unintentionally bringing her long dark eyelashes to Aragorn's attention.

"They say that without really meaning it. They do not know me inside," she replied humbly.

"But nonetheless it is true." He looked directly at her. Arwen fiddled with a blade of grass. There was no reply.

Aragorn smiled, but as she saw this she found that it was not one of knowing that he had been right, it was one of loving and high regard. She shifted herself more comfortably, her hand falling into his palm and her leg firmly resting against his thigh.

"Someone can only be called beautiful if you can touch their soul," Aragorn murmured, seemingly to himself. He did not appear to mind Arwen's unexpected movements.

"I am glad that you understand that too," she whispered, drawing in his gaze, "for no one else I have ever met believes it. Only me… and-"

"-me." As he finished her sentence Aragorn smiled, a reflection which she did at exactly the same moment, as if they were one, linked.

"You already know me, Aragorn," she whispered. "You seem to know me better than anybody else I know. You know even know me better than Glorfindel or Ada. It is strange, but I feel it within me." She watched Aragorn, as he stared downwards glazy-eyed. He did not say anything, but she could almost hear his voice in her head: 'Arwen, me too.'

After a soft rest he looked up and he saw something gentle stir in her eyes. Before either found words to say Arwen laid her head on his chest and brought them into a light embrace. Aragorn then slid his arms round her body, barely daring to touch her in case she should shatter like glass, and lifted her into his lap like a young girl.

She sighed in contentment and he saw her close her eyes. Her fingers tenderly stroked the backs of his hands, tracing wavy pictures. Aragorn too shut his eyes and he rested his head on hers, with his rough cheek nuzzling to her. Their peace was one which could never be likened to anything else in Arda and they were immovable, just comfortable to be near to each other.

What could have been an hour passed yet it seemed far too short. Aragorn stirred, his eyes fluttering open from his dreams. Extremely comfortable in his hold, Arwen snuggled deeper into his arms. Aragorn brushed his face over her glossy hair, willingly letting the full sweet scent envelope him with the power as if it was alive and he could touch it. Her silken head had grown wonderfully hot in the sun, and it felt heaven to slowly rub his skin over it.

She then opened her eyes and Aragorn could see from this angle the flickers of her eyelashes, with the yellow sunlight dancing on them. He smiled to be so close to her, and she sensed this against her. A peaceful smile then played on her face, and she entwined her fingers with his.

Quite suddenly directly ahead of them a whole chorus of birds set off a loud clangour as they shot up into the sky, shaking the topmost branches. Their squawks rudely disrupted the still atmosphere and their angered calls shot out into the contrasting sky. Shocked Arwen sat bolt upright, parting Aragorn's arms. He also was startled, and looked around worriedly for a sign of anything being wrong. There was a disquieting and unnerving silence.

"Aragorn?" Arwen called quietly to him. He answered by taking her hand. Her voice suddenly wavered. "What was that?"

Swallowing, Aragorn focused on the trees which had been disturbed. Abruptly a second upset of birds happened, loud, piercing calls which eerily darted through the disturbance. The blackbirds and flocks of tiny hedge birds screaming flew over their heads, straight from a clump of trees a few metres nearer than the first.

"Stand up!" Aragorn commanded in hushed tones, his eyes flitting about unsurely. Arwen jumped up, and as soon as he had she drew to his side, afraid for protection. Then they just knew someone was coming for them, coming from over where Arwen had walked through earlier. They held their breath as one.

Then a figure emerged from the undergrowth. A tall dark elf with a high brow.

"Ada?" Arwen whispered to Aragorn, looking up at him in slight confusion. He nodded.

Lord Elrond called to her. "Arwen!"

She glanced once more at the man beside her, who returned her gaze, before spinning round and walking back to find the basket with the blackberries inside. Arwen turned away from him and towards her father. He was carrying something which gave the impression of a tray.

"Arwen!" He came nearer and she saw him smiling at her, but she felt for the first time ever a little resentful for his coming. Deep down she knew it was because she was disappointed of her loss of a perfect moment, but then she too smiled, although only out of politeness. Just then Aragorn came up behind her.

"Ah…" Elrond nodded to him and smiled warmly before acknowledging his daughter. "I see you have company." She nodded.

"I brought you some bread and honey," Elrond continued to say to Arwen. "I found you had left not so long ago for a well-earned break-" she shot a sideways glance to Aragorn "-and so I thought you might be hungry, and tired of course." He handed the tray with the white plates and perfectly cut bread to Arwen. There was an enticing aroma of thick, creamy honey.

"I daresay you could share it with someone." He motioned to Aragorn again, giving him a wink, a followed with a smile to Arwen.

"Thank you," she said meekly, avoiding his eyes. To her surprise Aragorn did the same, giving thanks as well as not looking at him.

"Well, I cannot let my people starve," Elrond said. "But where is your basket? You left none behind. Surely you picked something, my dearest?" A tiny flame arose in his voice but his face was full of laughter.

"I have it," Aragorn replied quietly, drawing out the basket from behind him. Holding it out, he displayed the huge array of fruit. Blackberries were overflowing from the reed basket, pouring over the rosy pears and mouth-wateringly pink plums. The light caught on the blackberries' juicy outsides like shining dewdrops.

Elrond was clearly impressed. He took the basket. "Thank you, Aragorn. Arwen, may I remind you that dinner is at seven, and your maids would prefer you not to arrive with one minute to spare." Arwen blushed and Aragorn grinned. With a wave of goodbye Elrond swivelled round and headed back in the direction of the orchards again.

As soon as he disappeared, Aragorn turned to the elf-maiden beside him and took her hand. She had seemed to be in a dream, standing still and motionless, but as she felt his gentle touch she turned to him at once and smiled.

"Come, do not worry, Arwen," he murmured softly to her. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "he did not see us together." Arwen stared at him, shocked that he had sensed her same feelings.

Yet when Aragorn smiled to her, and met her deep and longing eyes, she could not resist returning the loving smile which her heart was calling for her to do.

"There…" he admired, observing her all over. "Even more beautiful than before." He led Arwen into the shady place under the tall tree and they sat down together, the old gnarled roots curling around them. Dotingly he took the tray from her fingers and then offered her a plate with a triangular piece of bread with a sizeable amount of honey layered on top. Arwen beamed and rested her head on his shoulder, listening intently to the sound of his heavenly voice, and inhaling the powerful scent of honey mingled with his hair, which started off pictures of her and Aragorn together… close… very close…