Chapter 10 – Arwen's Certain Song
It was not long after dawn when Aragorn had awoken and been absolutely unable to sleep. So, rising, he silently stole outside with the plan to go for a walk. The fresh morning was desirable, clear and bright, and the pale sunlight shone down upon the cool land and lit up the dew like stars. On the steps Aragorn watched the birds flying from tree to tree and chirping happily to welcome the warmth of the day, and he wandered through the singing valley airily without much thought of where he was going.
The land about showed not a sign of any elves being awake yet, but although Aragorn loved their company, for once in a while it was pleasant to be able to do what he liked without any interruptions, however friendly. As he clambered up an especially steep path and hopped over a low rock wall, he decided that he would go to the garden of the waterfall and watch the sun sweep up into the sky before he made his way back to breakfast.
After walking through the woodland, a flock of white birches came into view at the end of the damp path. Aragorn made for this with his pulse suddenly quickening unnervingly; but as he did so, he heard something beautiful in the air. While drawing closer he discerned that it was someone singing, a young maiden with a wonderful voice. Her voice was like a nightingale, as pure and as flowing as a mountain river, and her words leapt out of the melody like dolphins jumping waves.
…I see you watch the Evenstar
You do not see me, you do not hear me
You will find that your heart is swayed forever…
And then Aragorn saw her, as he drew back a snow-white branch… Arwen, clothed in a crimson dress entwined with golden threads. She was walking slowly through the green sea rich with soft grass. He could not help but smile to hear her song and see her lean down amongst the grass. As she straightened up the sun caught on her dark raven hair, making it shimmer like a silky liquid as it ran down her slender back. She held up a delicate white flower, its petals catching like snowdrops in the bright light, and she continued to sing to it.
Dreams are now flowing in moonlight
And the niphredil is blooming
I wonder if you know…
"Holy Eru…" Aragorn muttered. She can sing like one of the Vala he thought.
Glancing down at her white niphredil flower Arwen slowly turned to walk back past the pool through the thick clover-carpet. It was only then that she noticed who was standing there watching her in enchantment.
"Aragorn!" Her face lit up with surprise and Aragorn smiled. She ran to him like a fair-white banner carried in the wind. "How long have you been here?"
Smiling, and knowing why she asked, Aragorn replied caringly. "I heard you singing, if that is what you mean."
Arwen looked ashamed and paused, while chewing her lip and glancing up at him, afraid. "No, you didn't…"
"What is wrong? Arwen, you sing so beautifully that you could charm the whole of Arda to fall soundly asleep at your voice." He moved forward under the crystallized branches and took the flower from her hands, threading it through her hair.
She looked down timidly. "How much did you hear?"
Aragorn finished and gently turned her round. "I heard it all," he murmured.
"Why did you not tell me you were here?" she said quietly.
Aragorn gazed at her beautiful face, almost wishing she would keep speaking so that he could still listen to her heavenly voice. "I loved your singing too much to want to stop it." He sighed. "I really liked it, Arwen. Why are you worried about me hearing you?" He saw her squirm uncomfortably.
"You were not meant to hear it," she replied meekly and barely above a whisper, avoiding his eyes.
Aragorn just smiled.
"Err… Aragorn?" He smiled at his name. Arwen's voice suddenly fell lower. "Um, could you sing something for me?" she asked, looking at him hopefully.
"Sing?" Aragorn said immediately, looking terrified at the thought. "You would like me to sing for you?" Smiling Arwen inclined her head, folding her hands neatly together.
Aragorn seemed to have lost his footing very swiftly, and tumbled down an accompanying flight of steps. "No, please, Arwen," he begged, "I really think I am the wrong person to sing for you." He looked at her now despairingly.
"I disagree with you, Aragorn, I think I have found the perfect person to sing to me," Arwen said in her confident elven voice, nearly laughing at his fierce anxiety.
"No! Please, no!" Aragorn pleaded, backing away. Smiling, Arwen advanced quickly after him, and as she caught up, she suddenly stood so close that their clothes were touching. She fixed her eyes on his, deep, longing and passionate, burning far down inside him…
"No, please, Arwen…" Aragorn moaned pitifully, unable to look anywhere apart from her face, framed against the frothing waterfall.
Then she changed her plan and smiled as charmingly as a rainbow arching in the sky. "Please sing, it would make me happy."
"Err…" Aragorn was tempted to say 'you already are happy' but although he could see Arwen was teasing him to get him to sing, he was actually falling for it…he prised her fingers off his shoulder and held them in his warm hand… But then again, first he would tease her too.
"Okay, I will sing for you…" a smile crept up his face "…but only if you can catch me first!"
In that instance when he let go of her hand, Arwen made to catch him again. But grinning Aragorn leapt backwards and then ducked under the low fingers of the silver birches. He vanished with a swish of his cloak between the leaves and he glanced quickly back over his shoulder with a glint in his eye. Arwen was smiling playfully and she started to run after him without a thought otherwise.
Then Aragorn charged into the wide forest of smooth birch-trunks and ran sharply downhill, his feet carrying him away in the current. Air rushed through his lungs and his hair streamed out behind. It felt so exhilarating, and Arwen laughed with him as she felt it too. They were flying, and they were free, and they loved it.
Aragorn cut the way through the thin trees, and Arwen chased him in his wake just behind but gradually catching up. Her eyes were alight with the elation when he glanced back at her, his smile only too well expressing his enjoyment.
The bottom of the steep slope drew very rapidly nearer, and with it the end of the small birch wood. Aragorn saw a fence there and behind an orchard where Arwen had been two days before; but nowhere to cross it; and it was quite high. There were a couple of last trees, but no way could he climb their flimsy limbs and do that with enough haste. He rushed downhill, the power pushing him along forcefully, but he managed to slow down in order to get over the fence.
Arwen still carried on faster and faster, and the gap between them suddenly lessened. Aragorn reached the fence, and put a hand on the topmost beam to hoist himself over, yet after a moment he paused and turned round.
Running full speed Arwen crashed into him, placing two hands firmly on his broad chest and propelling him backwards to slam into the rigid oak post of the fence. Gasping for breath Aragorn looked up at her, with a slightly dazed look on his face; it had all happened exceptionally quickly.
But although Arwen was out of breath, she was positively glowing with the joy of catching him. Her brilliant smile switched Aragorn's appearance of exhaustion to one of laughter. Arwen moved closer, and her hands still pressed on his chest.
"Look who was caught, Aragorn," she giggled and he smiled at that lovely echo. "You know what that means…"
"I do," he panted in reply, "And I remember what I promised to do for you." He took a gulp of well-needed air.
"But actually," Arwen said, "I have changed my mind." This left Aragorn for a second blinking in surprise. Yet he heard a mischievous catch in her young voice.
"That is very kind of you, Arwen, seeing as you already have heard me singing. Singing of Tinúviel." he said. She flushed but after a split second continued to smile as if nothing had happened. This smile was a little too provocative and she still showed no sign of removing her hands from his chest.
"Instead, Aragorn," and she looked deeply into his eyes and suddenly came over all shy, "you can be my slave for today…"
Then for a moment there was a silence, a warm, tender stillness echoing between them, and Arwen suddenly felt a huge longing for Aragorn, and she held her breath. Trying desperately to read the answer off his face, she only found that Aragorn was managing to hide it extremely well. In truth he too had trouble restraining his emotion from portraying his reply, but Arwen did not see or know that.
Finally he spoke to her. "Yes, of course I will, my lady." His tone was serious but his face was highlighted with amusement. Arwen giggled at these words, but immediately pulled on a straight face as Aragorn lovingly took one of her hands off his chest and leant forward to kiss it. Afterwards, he glanced up at her, and there was an intense passion for her dancing in his eyes. "Then let me escort you to breakfast," he said.
"Lead the way for me, Aragorn," she answered. Taking her hand he guided her over to a gate he had spotted in the corner of the orchard and held it open for her. Smiling she went through and then they walked back together, passing through and to the watercolour green gardens this time.
They entered the realm of well-kempt gardens, under the picturesque view of the white House of Elrond, now shining in the sunlight. Bushes of red, cherry, violet, pink, peach, yellow, mint, lilac, and blue… all surrounding them and locking them inside a world separate to any other. Soon Aragorn had taken her deep within a maze of narrow paths, and he had her lost amongst the dripping blooms of the flowers.
The little stone path wound through the plants like a snake, and twisted and turned this way and that, branching off into a whole web of trails. Aragorn was forced to walk further on, and all Arwen could do to stop being gone astray was to follow him as close as she dared. Not for the first time the smiles he gave to her were joyous to her senses. He turned and walked on through the flower forest.
As she rounded the corner, the path between the bushes full of multicoloured carnations stretched out far ahead; but Aragorn was not to be seen. She called his name, a sudden wave of panic unusually enveloping her like a sinking black cloud.
But immediately he emerged from the flowerbed, smiling and shaking his hair back off his face, and producing a bouquet of carnations from behind his back, which he gave to Arwen. Her face melted when she saw them and when she looked up at Aragorn, he found her crystalline eyes welling with tears.
"Estel… thank you," she whispered, her soft voice truly showing how heartfelt it was. She sensed a hand lightly touch on her waist. "But… I… I did not know slaves gave their mistresses handfuls of flowers… and so lovely as these."
In her hands were pink carnations and white carnations and red carnations and creamy-coloured carnations, all with a scent so fragrant and delicate that Arwen was momentarily overwhelmed by love in all her senses.
"Arwen, slaves do not give their mistresses flowers," Aragorn murmured to her. "But some certain other people do."
And then, as she looked at him, she just knew what he meant… they were the certain people… who were in-
Aragorn smiled gently and withdrew his touch on her slender waist, leaving an irresistible trickling feeling on her tummy. Maybe he picked up on the forlorn longing she was shrouded in, for he said to her, "Lady Arwen, as your only slave I cannot afford to let you be late for your breakfast appointment."
That abrupt change from seriousness to mock seriousness made Arwen laugh. "Aragorn, you need not talk to me so formally!" She giggled as he now took her hand to pull her forwards. "Honestly, it is just a game!"
Aragorn turned to fix his unmoveable grey eyes upon her. Spotting the heat rise up her beautifully smiling voice, in his most dangerous voice he replied slowly, "YES, my lady…"