When Arwen and I first met we never considered the effect it would have upon those we knew, especially the one we both called Adar. I never knew our falling in love would cause him so much pain. We were in love, we thought of nothing more than that wonderful sensation. But looking back upon it, it seems the most obvious thing. For over 20 years I had been his son, but in one instant I had become his daughter's executioner, her pledges to me a self-signed death sentence.
At
first I did not know she was Elrond's daughter; her father and
brothers had never mentioned her, for elves rarely speak about those
who are absent. When I had first told Elladan and Elrohir about the
beautiful Elf-maiden I had met in the woods, they laughed, until I
mentioned that she was newly returned from Lothlorien. I can still
see the way their faces paled, and the strange look that appeared in
their eyes, as they hurriedly changed the topic of conversation to
some irrelevant trivia.
Never had I seen so many emotions
displayed so openly upon my father's face as when he discovered our
love. Grief,
disgust, hate, pity. All
flew across his face, lingering in his eyes. He rose, and in a low
voice whispered "You know not what you have done".
At first I took his anger to be because I had stolen his daughter from him, but years later I realised it was because now he knew, he would not have to watch one mortal child die, but two.