Disclaimer: Nothing is mine except the silver and blue pouches.
Love is Patient
The chill wind twisted and played with her dark hair, lashing the dress about her slim figure and stinging her face as she looked into the East. Often they had parted and often she had stood her upon the tallest tower of Imladris her eyes looking fondly toward where he had vanished around the last bend.
It was different this time, long had he been in danger and long had he risked his life as she waited in fear and hope, praying the Valar for his safety. He rode now to victory or defeat, into the very maw of the enemy. And still she stood waiting patiently, waiting in the dawn of the morning and the set of the sun and always he had her love and her thoughts.
Below her the fair valley of Imladris lay spread in all its beauty, green and sheltered from the worst of the Northern winters by the grace of her father. And Arwen, Lady of Imladris sang into the wind as it swept past in its fury.
Strong arms wrapped around her and enfolded her tenderly.
"Undómiel" he whispered gently as he leant down and kissed her check.
"Ada" she whispered back as she turned to face her father. Tall and strong, girt in both power and compassion, a lordly warrior, a just ruler, a gentle healer and above all the dearest and best of fathers. He drew her close, her fragrant hair falling all about them and mingling with his own dark locks.
"He will return victorious, melyanna," he said gently, ignoring the sickening pang in his heart as he thought of parting with her.
"I know, my hope will not fail me." she said letting her eyes close as she relaxed within the safety of those arms.
She smiled at her own words, her Estel would return and claim her hand and they would live in joy and gladness under a clean sky. Grey eyes twinkled under the dark lashes and she opened them again.
"Your brothers have returned my daughter."
"Elladan and Elrohir, here? They told me that their trip would take much longer."
"They returned unlooked for but a few moments ago."
They walked down together, the son of Eärendil and his Evenstar. Elladan and Elrohir were waiting at the foot of the stairs. Their cloaks were travel-stained and limp but they smiled merrily upon their sister as she ran forward into their waiting arms.
Once again she was wrapped in a comforting embrace, but it was not the embrace that she longed for above all.
"We have found what you sought, little sister," said Elladan, dropping a small pouch into her hand. Elrohir grinned and copied the motion. The two pouches, silver and midnight blue pressed heavily against her skin.
"Hannon le, dear brothers," she said rewarding them with a kiss upon the cheek.
"You have impeccable timing, dinner will be served within the hour."
She stood alone as they left to wash and dress, the pouches pressed between slender palms. Silently she imagined it, silver and white against black. Light in the darkness, a slender tree, seven stars and a great helm. Then she too turned and swept away as she sought out a heavy bolt of cloth that had long lain hidden in her own rosewood chest.
She rose with the sun. The black velvet lay spread upon a work table near her bed. She emptied the blue pouch upon it and white gems rolled across, glinting in the light. The silver bag held mithril thread, sparkling gossamer-like across the shadowy velvet.
She strung the needle with practiced fingers, breathing a prayer to Vairë.
The blossoms blew and leaves rung
Silver music by the breezes sung
Through the courts of the fountain
Silver tree neath the white mountain
A white tree bloomed upon the dark cloth, its tender leaves uncurling with the first promise of spring. The scion of Telperion of Valinor, under the white fingers of the Mariner's granddaughter it lived again.
Lady of the star-filled night
Let not the darkness drown his light
Cast your shimmering cloak about him clearly
Guarding whom I count most dearly
Above the tree arched seven stars scintillating under the northern night as she completed the second symbol weeks later.
Helm of Elendil Elvellon
Your own blood in him runs
Shield and crown the heir returned
Let not his foes lay blade upon him
Above all shone the great crown of the king returned, Elessar of Gondor and Arnor, Lord of the White Tree and of her heart. And Arwen of Rivendell laid her slender fingers upon the work of her hands and prayed with all her heart and soul for the safety of her beloved.