Chapter 8 – The Evenstar of her People

As the sun finally dipped behind the hills in the west, a four-drawn horse-and-cart drew up outside the steps leading up to the House of Elrond. Except that the steps were no longer visible. Seemingly all the inhabitants of the elven valley had turned out to greet the return of their Lord and his daughter, and not one bit of space was wasted. Elf upon elf crowded round the halted carriage and the snorting horses, and still more folk drifted out like a dam let loose, eager for a view.

The coach door opened, welcomed by hundreds of cheers. An agile servant jumped down and immediately straightened up importantly, holding back the door. Out of the shadows within an elf sprang, one with long dark hair braided elaborately around his pointed ears, and lavish scarlet garments clothing him. He looked up and the crowd roared. Lord Elrond. Smiling, with sparkles in his eyes, and joy to be amongst his people.

Subsequently he turned. Two young elves jumped out one after the other, with unmistakeable dark brown hair and blue eyes, and long knives at their belts. They were the sons of Elrond, Elrohir and Elladan. Grinning they waved to the people surrounding them, glancing at each other and exchanging smiles.

Then with his back to everyone who watched, Elrond held out his hand, and a young female elf's hand elegantly closed around it. The onlookers all seemed to hold their breath and for a moment there was silence. But as the beautiful maiden stepped down from the carriage, holding up her magnificently embroidered pale blue dress, the crowd erupted like never before, and there were shouts of approval and screams of excitement.

She glanced up shyly and then instantly looked down again, tucking her deep ebony hair behind her delicate ears and her smooth cheeks turning rosy. When she reached the ground her dress fell around her like a crystal fountain, and she looked bashfully up at the people once more. They recognised her immediately. She was their Undómiel, their Evenstar. Arwen.

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Aragorn smiled as he took one last glimpse of her. She was still being flooded with flowers and beaming, bright-eyed people who had still not had enough of her, Elrond, and her brothers; whereas Arwen still looked very shy and meek from all the attention. Leaving the doorway and starting to walk up the hallway, Aragorn thought about this. She had always received wonderful greetings, but she was no more used to them as she was when she was three; or so it seemed like. He would not know. She was far older than him. But he had that little inkling in the far corner of his head.

But then he heard another sound, one which carved through the excited voices. Aragorn glanced back over his shoulder, for he thought it was running footsteps, and coming after him. Who would be hurrying at this time, and away from all the other elves? Aragorn strained for a sight of them, but he could not see anything over the other tall elf heads, so he turned back and carried on walking. Nobody else seemed to have taken any notice of the footsteps. They still seemed increasingly animatedly focused outside.

Musing in confusing and befuddled thoughts, Aragorn spun round again at hearing the footsteps again. Now he saw the elf coming towards him, but he could only tell it was them because of their fight upstream through the strong tide of people going the other way. He watched with interest as they squeezed past and then began running again, weaving their way through the gaps. It was only when they dodged round the hindmost group of elves that Aragorn recognised who it was.

"Arwen!"

She looked up at her name, and, seeing who had called her, ran the last few paces to him. Aragorn stopped in his tracks, and began to walk back to meet her. His delight mingled with puzzlement as Arwen glanced behind warily. After a few more moments checking, she turned nervously to Aragorn. "Where have you be-?" he began.

"Estel, I cannot stay," Arwen said quickly. She glanced to the side of him again as more people swarmed past to the carriage. "But thank the Valar I've found you. I'm sorry I could not see you all day."

He took her hand and she met his eyes sorrowfully. "I am really sorry Estel! Please believe me!" Her last sentence sounded so desperate that it was almost a plea. Aragorn smiled and nodded. Then, taking one last wistful look at him, Arwen pressed something firmly into his palm, turned, and fled back down the corridor to the crowd awaiting her.

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When Aragorn wandered outside a few minutes before eleven that night, the world around him lay as dark as if the air was black ink, swimming around him and over the gardens which stretched out from his feet. The air was quite chilly for a summer's eve, and he drew his cloak closer around his shoulders. He stood there for a moment, and then as if remembering something, took a small piece of parchment out of his pocket. He unfolded it as carefully as if it was a thousand years old and held it into the doorway of light thrown outside onto the stone steps.

Aragorn read it twice before putting it away again. He already knew what it said – he had turned it over again and again in his mind some many times that evening at the feast – but he just liked reading the familiarity in the words in that beautiful curving writing that belonged to Arwen. Each letter flowed into the next flawlessly, and the words tumbled down one after the other like crests of graceful sea-waves…

He hurried down the steps and then began to walk over the stony path, listening to the satisfying crunching sounds beneath his feet while the clear voices of the elves rang out from the house behind. After a minute he looked up at the small hill ahead. It was nothing more than a thick black silhouette against the cloudy night sky, but Aragorn knew it was the right place. He began to climb up the grassy slopes.

Just as the bell rang out for the hour before midnight, Aragorn caught sight of another outline before him. The slender figure of an elf-maiden rose up out of the shadows, and she stood with her back to him, her hair streaming out in the air of the cool breeze. Aragorn slowed down and instead walked towards her as stealthily as possible, not making a single sound. He even found himself trying not to breathe.

Aragorn crept forward until he was just behind her, and then he stopped silently to listen. Strangely enough she was trembling and her breathing was so loud he could hear it without straining at all hard. It would have made sense if she had just run here flat out. But she had been standing there all this time, hadn't she?

Aragorn reached out to her and his fingers touched her lightly on the waist. Arwen shivered so sensitively it was just as if a ribbon of the sensation rippled out through her body. With her chest heaving she gradually turned around in his arms until she stood before him. Aragorn watched her with interest, musing on what could have made her so nervous… or so apprehensive, that she was breathing so deeply as if she had just fled for her life.

Continuing to gaze at her, he saw through the gloom that her eyes were flickering up and down his body, until she met his eyes. Aragorn smiled, but Arwen looked just the same, just as pure and magical and exhausted. He wrapped his cloak around them both in hope to shelter her from the cold wind.

"Why did you want to speak to me?" he asked as he held her closer to himself. A few locks of her hair escaped and carried on fluttering around her face.

"I did not want to speak to you," she replied, her voice quivering too. "I… just wanted to be with you." She gazed up at his face in order to discover what his reaction would be, but his complexion gave away nothing until he leant in to whisper something in her ear.

"Then you shall have your wish." As Aragorn drew away they both heard some noises behind them. Spinning round, he saw some elves spilling out onto the lawn just below the house.

"Let us go somewhere else," Arwen whispered softly. Aragorn smiled in agreement and took his cloak off her small shoulders. Then he followed her down the other side of the small hill. At the foot they suddenly became enclosed in tumults of undergrowth and high bushes. They saw a dyke winding through the wild plants and a narrow bridge over it – only made of a few strips of rotting wood. It looked rather unsafe.

Murmuring to himself, Aragorn crossed over it first, safely travelling to the other side without hindrance. However he was not satisfied and walked over it again, adding a little jump in the middle. Apart from an odd groaning noise, nothing else issued from the bridge, and he deemed it safe enough.

On the far bank once more Aragorn held out his hand to Arwen. He saw that there was laughter upon her face as she took his hand, and she glided over the old bridge with not so much as a rustle.

"Hannon le," she thanked, beaming up at him sweetly. Aragorn smiled and they walked on together under the boughs of the trees. Arwen still held onto his hand though the land was perfectly safe.

Once they had started to climb up the side of the valley, they heard a burst of lively music exploding far down below. Arwen laughed softly as she caught some a few of the words the elves were singing. Before Aragorn even could ask there was a loud cheer as the elves laughed, a beautiful sound like the rushing of a fountain. Even when the chorus began unless you listened really hard the song just sounded like laughter, quick and bouncy and positively glowing full of nonsense rhymes.

As she giggled again Arwen started to break into a run, tugging Aragorn along too, and they scampered through the oak and beech trees until they came to a ledge way above the valley. Perched upon the rocks was a stone bench, carved so majestically it could have been created by nature itself. Arwen took him over to the seat and looked out over the House of Elrond.

"You can see everything in the valley from here," she said, as Aragorn tried to take in the whole view of the strange and yet beautiful shapes in the gardens. In the centre of his vision there was the glorious house, with the high arching roof and the tall bay windows. Lights twinkled like yellow stars from inside, and at the wide doorways beams of torchlight poured outwards. Tiny shadows of people swept to and fro in front of them.

Then there were the black shapes of the elves, dancing and leaping around the flickering firelight on the lawn. Aragorn could see the wooden instruments held in the elves' hands highlighted by the flames, while all the other elves skipped about in a circle, singing and laughing merrily.

Arwen turned to look at him, and he grinned as he met her eyes.

"No one will find us now," he laughed. She too laughed, and as Aragorn reclined onto the bench he pulled Arwen down with him too. Giggling, she leant against his shoulder and reached up to play with some pine needles on a branch hanging over her. Aragorn struck a flame and lit two candles which stood on each end of the seat. They were shrouded in a dome of milky yellow light.

"I am sorry I was so quick earlier," she said as they calmed down. "I just did not want anyone… you know what I mean… thinking about us."

"That is fine, I guessed that may be why." Aragorn stroked her silky hair down her back as they talked. "But you seemed more worried than usual. Was anything wrong?"

Arwen sighed. "N- no. I just… wanted to see you… a lot." She heard Aragorn sigh, peacefully.

"Also," Arwen continued, "I had to get back to Ada. I was already risking a lot coming to find you, and I had to go back to lead the way into the hall and talk to people Ada is friends with… but Aragorn; I do not want my father getting suspicious. He has already been acting strange recently. I do not understand why, but he seems unusually concerned, even more worried than usual." Her words hung in the air, awaiting Aragorn's answer.

But he was silent.

After a few more moments Arwen sat up to look at him. "Are you okay? You have gone quiet all of a sudden."

He looked down as if he had only just noticed she was there. "Yes, sorry, I am fine." His voice sounded distant and faint.

"Estel, you do know that you can tell me anything and I will keep it secret forever? I sense there is something troubling you. Is it Ada? Has someone seen us?"

"No; everything is fine. And of course I trust you Arwen. I would trust you with my life." He gazed at her before giving an exclamation. "Arwen, you are shaking you are so cold! Why did you not tell me?"

Arwen bit her lip but smiled as he pulled his fleecy cloak over her, but then she decided to lie down on the seat with her head in his lap. Gazing up at his face amongst the pine trees, she could not help but lovingly fondle one of his hands which rested upon her chest. She snuggled closer to him and curled up to keep warm. As she rubbed her cheek against his satin clothing Arwen said something which came out a little muffled.

"Pardon?" Aragorn questioned her. There were some vibrations which were unmistakable as laughter. "Nothing," she mumbled back.

He traced his fingertips over Arwen's pointed ear and she fell silent. For a while she just looked up into his eyes, which caught the firelight from the house below, and they were bathed in the happy music bubbling from the gardens. As the song changed into a smooth melody, Arwen closed her eyes.

Aragorn smiled. He was glad she had not questioned him further about Elrond, for he did not know whether the elf-lord was suspicious of where his heart had fallen. And if he was not sure then he would not bear it pointlessly upon Arwen.

Sparing her a look, he could not help but admire the beautiful midnight blue dress she was wearing. The sleeves reached her nimble elbows and then they were cut to tumble down like drooping leaves. The skirt of the dress was of thick velvet, delightful to touch, but the top half and the sleeves were of a satin material, swooping down into a low v-neck. This was embellished with tiny silver stars and strands, and these also danced on her waist.

At this point Arwen's eyes flickered open, and by his complexion she immediately noticed his liking for what she was wearing that evening. He was centred on her chest.

"Your necklace is outstandingly pretty, Arwen," he observed. As she looked up at him, she saw the exact image of herself lingering in his eyes. He was focusing in on the smooth stone pendant that hung around her neck. Shaped like a rain drop, with white and blue marbling running through the whole pebble, a few other tiny stones fell down from it on spider-thin strings, all delicate shades of colour. The necklace rested low on her bare chest.

Arwen watched herself in Aragorn's eyes. They did not move from there for a long time. When she shifted under his increasingly heated stare, which she found she revelled more and more, the candle flames blew out in a night breeze and the two of them were thrown into darkness along with everything surrounding.

"Arwen, are you okay?" He called to her. Both were unable to see, even Arwen. It was now pitch black and there was no possible way her elven-eyes, however sharp they were, could pierce the night to see Aragorn. They were completely alone. Just them. Together.

She smiled but although Aragorn could not see he heard her content breathing.

"Your people love you, Arwen Elelome," Aragorn murmured, half to himself, "you only had to see their faces this evening when you came back."

Arwen laughed softly. "You have the same expression on your face now when you are looking at me."

"How do you know!" Aragorn exclaimed, taken aback. "It is completely dark; you cannot see me!"

Sitting up Arwen drew the cosy cloak around her shoulders and held the corners in her long fingers. She huddled up to his chest and leant close to his cheek.

"But I can sense it, Estel," she whispered.