Just watched 'Chronicles of Narnia' last night (William Mosely makes me smile). Still a great movie, and watching it makes me want to actually finish the series by C.S. Lewis, I never got past reading 'The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe'. And I know I'm a bit late in posting again, but this chapter is really long and I think it's one of my best. Ah well, continue…
Disclaimer: I really am running out of clever ways to say this, I DON'T OWN LORD OF THE RINGS.
Chapter 45 Recap(s):
Recap #1- Abigail sounded a not so ladylike snort. "Nothing that man does is reasonable," she said rigidly.
Her companions gave her a pointed look, but started talking about a new subject to fill their time on the journey back to Edoras.
Recap #2 - "All wounds will heal, daughter," Elrond said, bringing her into a comforting hug.
"I pray to Valar they will," she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder.
Arwen pulled away, and wiped her eyes.
"Father, there is a favor I would like to ask you now. I believe it will bring me closure, as well as assist Aragorn greatly."
"Anything you need, dear."
Arwen sat down with Elrond again, as she explained her plan.
(A/N-There really was about 2 endings in that chapter, so I thought putting both would be wise)
Chapter 46:
The return trip to Edoras was fairly uneventful. Gandalf remained a tad distant and cold towards Abigail, and she hoped no one had really noticed. Namian, however, was showing the exact opposite emotion and tried to help Abigail in any way he could. It was his way of repaying the debt he believed her owed her, though it actually became annoying once in a while.
Like the time her had insisted on helping her onto Veryohtar (though she was perfectly capable), and he became a little too excited with the aspect of being useful, and pushed her right out of the saddle and into the still slightly hot coals of the fire pit. Apart from a charred skirt and a sore butt, no real damage was ensued, but Merry and Pippin wouldn't stop mentioning in for the entire afternoon. They promptly stopped when Abigail threatened to sharpened her daggers on their 'big, fat, skulls' if the didn't 'shut up'.
Needless to say, Abigail was grateful when she saw the massive hill that the city was built upon come into view.
"Have you ever been to Edoras before, my lady," Éomer asked, noticed her awe.
"No, this would be my first time, Lord Éomer. Actually, I never even been in Rohan before I joined the fellowship," she replied.
Despite her protests, the Rohirrim insisted on using the title when addressing her (save for Namian), so she did the same.
"Where did you spend all your time, then. I have yet to hear the whole story," the young horse lord continued.
She smiled softly. "I was raised in the woods of Lothlorien, with the elves. My parents died when I was young, and left me in the care of an elvish friend," she lied sweetly. "Again, I never left the city until I was called to the Council, but I did not care. For the time, I was happy with simply exploring and living with the tree's."
Éomer nodded. "I lost my parent's as well when I was young."
"I'm sorry," she said honestly. In truth, she herself felt no great lose in leaving her stupid father. Still, she didn't forget what the mirror had shown her that day. It predicted her mother returning for her and her father being sorry for once in his pathetic life.
'I wonder if that could still happen,' she thought. She turned her attention back to Éomer as he started to talk again.
"Thank you, I am sorry for your loss as well. Éowyn and I are very fortunate to have Théoden for an uncle. He's as kind to us as any father would be," he sighed sadly. "Though sometimes I fear my sister still feels the weight of their death."
Abigail had never seen this side of Éomer before. Until now, she had mainly heard and seen him as a warrior and a rider. Now that he was opening up to her, she saw the concerned brother.
"But she still has you to lean on, my lord. There is a bond between siblings that will never be broken. Continue to be there for each other and neither of you will be alone," she advised.
She couldn't help but think ahead to when Eowyn was supposed to be stabbed by the Nazgûl. She remembered it was only Éomer's voice that would bring her back, so she hoped he would take her words seriously.
His face did not look as somber as it had a moment ago.
"You sound like you speak from experience, Lady Abigail."
"I know what it is like to carry a burden and to be alone, a nasty combination. To have someone there to help you makes a world of difference," she said, and kicked Veryohtar to the front as they came through the front gate.
Éomer thought about this for a second, and then shook his head.
'What the others said was true. The more she says, the more mysterious she becomes.'
OoOoOoOoOoOo
"Am I the only one who finds it ironic to celebrate a victory while we are still in the middle of a war that could still destroy us all," Abigail muttered to herself, making her way to her supposed room.
Basically as soon as the horses had been stored in the stable, King Théoden informed them that there was going to be a feast at the Golden Hall tonight.
"I believe we could all use a little good cheer," he explained.
Abigail wasn't against the idea; she just wasn't exactly in a partying mood.
It was also decided it was unseemly for her to sleep on the floor of the hall with all the men, so she was told to take the servants quarter right next to Lady Éowyn's bed chamber.
She soon found the cherry wood double-doors that were described as Éowyn's room, as she assumed the small door to the right led to hers.
She went inside and discovered it was considerably smaller than some of the other rooms she had seen, but it was pleasantly bright and comfortable.
In the corner, next to a tiny window that looked over the plains, was a wooden bed with some wool blankets. She also had a small wardrobe, closet and a sink that looked to be made out of some sort of marble.
She fingered the bed frame, at wasn't surprised to see it adorned with carvings of horses.
Suddenly there was a quiet knock on the door.
"Come in," Abby called.
A petite girl, probably only in her mid-teens came in. After a quick curtsy, she said,
"My lady wishes you to know that you are welcome to use her private bath in the next room if you want to wash up. And, also, that there should be clothes in the closet and dresser to suit your needs."
'Praise the Valar, a bath! I could only imagine what I smell like now. Something along the lines of dirt, smoke and Veryo,' Abigail mused.
"I assume 'your lady' is lady Éowyn," Abby spoke now, out loud.
The blonde girl nodded.
"Yes, Madame. She also wants me to tell you not to hesitate to ask her for anything else."
"And what's your name, in case I'm too afraid to talk to the royals," Abigail smiled playfully.
The young girl smiled back, looking more confident. "My name's Ryn, and I'd be happy to help you too. My room is the on the left of my Lady's room."
"Thank you, Ryn. I might take you up on that."
Ryn grinned again, and took another curtsy before leaving.
Abigail went to the closet and hung up her dirty cloak, quickly scanning the other clothes.
"I wonder how much water I can use for a bath without making people mad," she chuckled, "I think I'm going to need it," she said, inspecting the grim under her nails.
OoOoOoOoOoOo
A couple of hours later and all cleaned up, Abigail was finding a dress to wear to the feast.
"If Rodwen were here, she would kill me for wearing brown," Abigail said to herself lightly.
The brown dress was simple, but nice, made out of plain cotton and decorated with gold lining around the neck and sleeves. The neckline reached the middle of her shoulders (no dip in the back or front, though), with very loose sleeves and a woven belt to put on her waist.
She had just finished styling her hair in a half ponytail when there was a knock on the door.
"Abigail, dearest, are you decent?" said a very fake high voice.
"Just come in, Merry, before you make a fool of yourself," she smirked.
The door opened and the two hobbits came bouncing in.
"A bit too late, I'm afraid," Pippin whispered loudly to Abby.
"Now, what has you two in such a fine mood?" she asked.
"Well, there's a party tonight, so naturally that means one thing," Merry stated, as if it were totally obvious.
"Ale!" they shouted together, and patted each other on the back.
Abby rolled her eyes. "I'm torn between whether I should be concerned for you two or I should be happy to know that I will have the entertainment of two drunken hobbits tonight."
"Aw, now Abby, we promise to drink only in moderation," Pippin pouted, though his eyes were already scheming.
"Hmph. The day you two drink in moderation is the day I see Gimli in a dress," she said, walking out of her room, not bothering to see if they followed.
The two hobbits glanced at each other with a mischievous smirk.
"You don't think…" Pippin started.
Merry shook his head. "We'd need a lot more ale to make him do that. There's a better chance of him shaving his beard before he reaches that point."
Merry bounded out of the room to catch up with Abby.
Pippin sat on the bed for another moment, still thinking.
"Well, that would be just as good," he called after Merry, running out to join them.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOo
Abigail was intrigued to find the hall already filled with not only men, but women as well.
"I guess the invitation was to any family of a soldier," she decided.
"Abby, where should we sit?" Merry asked, tugging her skirt to announce his presence.
"I'm not sure if there's really an order to this. See anyone we know?" she offered.
Pippin caught up a joined the conversation. "I think I see Sir Namian over there, but he's talking to someone else."
"No harm in saying hello, is there? Come on," she encouraged, pulling them with.
"Hullo Namian," Merry said as soon as he was finished.
"Ah, good evening lads," Namian said, with his usual friendly demeanor. "I want you to meet a good friend of mine, Giedd."
Namian introduced a warrior who was probably late thirties with light brown hair and blue eyes.
"Nice to meet you. Namian's been raving about hobbits all afternoon," he said, grinning. He looked up and noticed Abigail. "And you must be none other than the 'savior' he's told me so much about."
"I thought we said not to bother mentioning that again," she said, giving a skeptical look at Namian.
"Well, there's just nothing else worth talking about in my life right, now," he replied sheepishly.
"Besides just finishing the largest battle of his life and going to see the wizard who started it," Giedd added.
The hobbits chuckled and this new man's quick wit.
"Er, yes, well, I didn't actually see him…"
Namian started to ramble a little and Abigail tuned out, scanning the crowd to see who was here.
She thought she saw Gimli, already standing by the ale barrel, and she saw Théoden by his throne, talking to his niece and nephew.
She turned her attention to a corridor entrance, only to see Aragorn walk through, dressed in a red tunic with a black vest and brown leggings. It seemed as if he had cleaned up a bit as well, for his hair was straighter, but even from here she could tell his beard was still not clean shaven.
'Of course, to me, he looks perfect,' she thought, almost dreamlike. 'Gah, bad thoughts, I'm suppose to be convincing my self that I don't love him.'
Suddenly, he looked her way and she quickly turned around.
Aragorn's POV
Aragorn walked into the Golden Hall, listening to the idle chatter and observing the large crowd.
'I guess all the people want to celebrate some form of victory, not matter how much still needs to happen,' he thought.
He got a strange sensation that someone was watching him, so he looked around and faintly noticed a head whip around to face the opposite direction of him.
Even from back here he could recognize Abigail. He peered through the crowd and could tell she was wearing a brown and gold dress with only half her hair styled up.
'Such simplicity and she still looks amazing,' he thought. He mentally chided himself, but even since Helm's Deep he couldn't stop thinking about her. She had tried to tell him something, but what was it?
Flashback
"Don't tempt me," she accidentally whispered out loud.
"What?" Aragorn dropped his hand at the shocking grievance in her voice.
"The other day, you told me that you could never hate me. Well I can say the same. I could never hate you Aragorn," and she sounded honest.
She grabbed Veryohtar's reigns and started to leave, but she stopped suddenly besides Aragorn. Her eyes still cast down but he continued to face her.
"You don't understand…I want…no, I can't…but," she fumbled with her words. "I am sorry, Aragorn."
End Flashback
That moment is what made him loose some sleep every night. What was even worse that not understanding what she was saying was that he didn't even understand why he cares so much. Indeed, Abigail was his friend, but this concern he felt was different than any worry he had ever felt for Legolas or Gandalf.
He came out of his thoughts and saw Théoden rise to give a speech. Aragorn sat down at the closest table.
Abigail's POV
People were hushed as Théoden stood up to say something. Finding no seats available, Abigail leaned lazily against a wooden pillar.
Éowyn kneeled and gave the King a large goblet. He stared at the cup, contemplating for a moment, before he spoke.
"Tonight we remember those who gave their blood to defend this country," he raised his glass. "Hail the victorious dead!"
"Hail!" the crowd responded, and took a drink.
Abigail didn't have a glass, but then again she wondered if she really wanted to drink to that.
'Remember the dead, yes. But I would rather hail those who are still alive, or those who should be,' she thought bitterly, reminded again of characters such as Finwé or Haldir.
"Tonight is supposed to be a celebration, try not to make it look like a funeral," a man said.
She looked over a recalled him as Gamling, Théoden's soldier and advisor of sorts. He was a nice enough fellow, as far as she knew, but in the end she really didn't know him.
"Sorry?" was her reply.
"Many people realize what tonight means, it was a victory with many smaller losses. But we try to keep a cheerful mood, as to not be reminded. For some, one night of relief can help for the lifetime to come," he finished, handing her a glass.
She smiled, noticing it was plain water. Wine she liked well enough, but she was not much of an ale drinker.
"Thank you, and I'll remember that."
"Enjoy yourself, my lady. You deserve it as much as I," and he went away.
Abigail remembered bits and pieces about Gamling from the story and movie she new. Similar to Éomer, though, she only came to know certain sides of him.
'I never thought about how being in the story gives me a chance to really know the characters. Hell, I could have found out if Grima has a secret passion for gardening,' she thought, and then snorted into her glass (earning an incredulous look from the man next to her). 'Probably not,' she internally shook her head.
For a while, she did some small chat with some women and a couple times found her way to the hobbits or Namian and Giedd. Somehow, though, she wasn't running into the fellowship members, which she wondered if she should be grateful for. As far as she was concerned, there was no great amount of ill will between her, Legolas or Gimli. With Gandalf and Aragorn…she wasn't so sure.
However, not much more than half an hour into the night she saw Éowyn approach Aragorn, with a look like that a schoolgirl would have on her first crush. She was carrying the goblet that Théoden had drunk out of (another tradition, no doubt).
Minor jealously flared as Aragorn accepted the cup with a small smile and Éowyn blushed lightly.
'Every other girl in Middle Earth can fall in love with Aragorn except for me,' she frowned slightly. 'He hasn't smiled like that with me for a long time, though.'
She knew that nothing would become of Éowyn's feeling. But right now she could be closer to Aragorn than Abigail could, and that was what burned her.
Deciding she needed some air, she slipped out the door and sat down on the stone terrace.
She'd do anything to sparkle in his eye
She would suffer, she would fight, and compromise
She's been wishin' on the stars that shine so bright
For answers to the questions that will haunt her tonight
She must rinse this all away
She can't hold him this way
She must rinse this all away
She can't love him this way
How she'd be soothed, how she'd be saved if he could see
She needs to be held in his arms to be free
But everything happens for reasons that she will never understand
'til she knows the heart of a woman will never be found in the arms of a man
She must rinse this all away
She can't hold him this way
She must rinse this all away
She can't love him this way
Who else should come outside and join her but Éowyn?
"I saw you come out-I wanted to make sure you were alright," she explained.
Abigail smiled at the genuine concern. She had only met the woman briefly at Helm's Deep, yet she was the one to notice.
"I just needed to get away for a moment. What King Théoden said…well, it was fitting, but it just brought back some memories."
Éowyn nodded. "I heard about your, um, father. I can understand why this night could be…awkward?" she ended, wondering if that was the right word.
"Yes, awkward works," Abigail agreed. "I heard about your family as well. Perhaps you and I are similar in more than a few ways."
"Except I envy you," she cut in.
Abigail was about to say 'I could say the same', but she decided against it. "Why is that?" she asked instead.
"You are able to go out in the world and battle for what's good. I must sit here a be the 'image' of what's good for a lady."
When Abigail started this journey, it was partially to prove that woman were worth something more. Nowadays Abigail could forget what she was fighting for. That was something she liked about Éowyn. She still had the will to prove something.
"I won't be the one to prevent you from fighting, if ever it happens," Abigail told her. "But I will say this, not all battles need to be fought with swords. I know you are grateful for what you have, and I do understand why you would want to fight, believe me I do. No one likes a cage."
Éowyn's eyes widened slightly at her particular use of that word.
"But even if you are in a cage, Éowyn, were have the tools to open the cage door."
"What do you mean?" the blonde maiden asked eagerly.
"You are niece to a king and in a position of power. You have the compassion of a leader and the kindness of an innocent. You are in a place where you can still help a great number of people and voice your opinion, without having to risk your like or take another's."
Éowyn looked like she was considering these words.
"But I still want to prove something by actually fighting," she said.
"I know, and I said I wouldn't be the one to stop you. I'm just giving you something to think about. A different opinion from someone who is not an overprotecting and cautious family member."
Éowyn tilted her head, but her lips curved into a small smile as she stood up.
"I understand. Thank you for the advice, I will not forget it. Do you want to come back inside now?"
"Go on ahead, I'll just enjoy the stars for a minute longer," Abigail said.
The woman nodded again, and disappeared through the door.
Abigail did stay out for a little longer, but instead of going back to the feast she went around and escaped back into her room, really not in the celebrating mood now.
And if she runs away she fears she won't be followed
What could be the worse than leaving something behind
And as the depth of oceans slowly become shallow
It's loneliness she finds...
If only he was mine
…
She must rinse him
She must rinse him
She can't rinse him
She can't rinse him
She can't, she won't, she must rinse him
She can't, she won't, she must rinse him
She must rinse this all away
She can't hold him this way
She must rinse this all away
She can't love him this way
(A/N-The song is Rinse by Vanessa Carleton. A favorite of mine and it almost perfectly describes Abigail's current relationship/feelings towards Aragorn. I'll try not to go overboard with the song usage, but sometimes I really think it helps, and I just plain love music.
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Frodo guessed night was approaching, but as they got farther into Mordor, the darker the sky got no matter what time of day.
"Mr. Frodo, I think we can stop soon for a rest," Sam piped up.
"Yes, Sam, of course," said Frodo absentmindedly. Every night Frodo lied down to go to sleep, but he hardly ever did so. There was this tension in his heart and these dark whispers in the back of his head. Most of the time he would just stare at the ring, not even realizing he was doing so.
"Do you ever think about them, Mr. Frodo?" Sam asked suddenly.
"I wonder a lot, Sam. But I try not to dwell too much on thoughts. This was my choice, and I'm trying hard not to regret it too much." He paused and looked at his dear friend. "I hope you're not having second thoughts, Samwise. It's a bit late for that."
Sam looked slightly taken aback, astonished that Frodo had attempted at making a joke. He found his voice soon enough.
"Of course not. I'm by your side all the way, Mr. Frodo. I wonder a lot too, and worry, but as you've said before, Strider will take care of them. Though I doubt Abigail will let him, being how she is…but we'll see them in the end and find out I 'spose."
He straightened out his pack. "Now I wonder where our little Skulker went off to. I think it is about time we stopped for the night."
While Sam went yelling about for Gollum, Frodo smile sadly at his friends never-failing optimism. Sam would always say things like 'when this is over', 'on the journey back' or 'at the time we get home'.
Frodo never had the heart to tell him that with every passing day he doubted he would return home. Still, Sam's quirky optimism and Sam himself was what helped Frodo get through everyday.
He sat down on a rock and took off his pack, though the weight of the ring never left the 'ring-bearer'.
He truly hoped the rest of the fellowship was managing. Maybe tonight he would even get some sleep.
(A/N-Anybody else think Frodo is a lot like Harry Potter? Constantly depressed, suddenly shoved with a terrible burden, endangering his friends, needs to defeat a dark lord etc. Anyway, there was a tidbit of Frodo and Sam for ya.)
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For the rest of the evening, Abigail just mulled around her room. She cleaned up some of her clothes and weapons, and even read a bit of a book she found about the lineage of Rohan kings. She did feel kind of pathetic and childish for hiding from the feast, but there was no sense in dragging everyone else down with her bad mood.
When she finally set down the book, it was very dark out, probably sometime around midnight.
She sighed, and changed into the white cotton nightgown that was in her dresser.
She blew out her candle and lied down in her bed, but no sleep overcame her. Instead she just studied every shadow in the ceiling.
Abruptly, she sat up as a throbbing pain shot through her head. Abigail was sensing something dark and evil, a similar feeling to the Nazgûl.
'But my scar isn't hurting, if it's not a wraith," her eyes widened in fear. 'Oh no! The Palantir!'
Abigail leapt out of bed and hastily put on a dark green dressing robe to cover herself, then she ran out into the corridor.
She scanned the rooms by the golden hall, looking for the one with her friends. Soon enough she found Pippin writhing on the floor. Suddenly Aragorn pushed right past her and ran to Pippin, grabbing the seeing stone out of his hands.
Immediately, Aragorn fell to the floor in pain.
"No!" Abigail cried, and she raised her arm.
Using her power, the ball flew out of Aragorn's hand, but as soon as her mind was connected to the Palantir, she felt as if her soul was being sucked out of her.
Abigail was on her hands and knees, in a place filled with darkness. But it wasn't dark for long. A menacing glow came from above, and a body immersed in flame came falling down.
"I knew you would come to me," it hissed.
"Not by choice, Sauron," she replied as coldly as possible.
"Yes, trying to protect your friends, how noble," it seethed. "If you really wanted to protect them, though, you would leave them."
"I will do no such thing," she stood up, mustering whatever strength she had to face it.
"Perhaps than I can use them as means of persuasion. Join me, or they all die," the flame burned harsher.
"I would never side with you, Sauron" she spat. "But if you so much as touch them I swear I will-"
"You'll what?" it hissed angrily. "Your power will not work against me. And you forget, you already belong to me."
"Liar! A heart-less monster like you will never control me," she screamed.
"It's only…a matter…of time," it spoke slowly, and with every word it moved closer.
Suddenly it lashed out and touched her. A burning pain was spread through her veins, and then the connection was broken.
Different POV
All were shocked when the ball flew out of Aragorn's hands as soon as Abigail cried out. What was more shocking was that the Palantir was suspended in mid-air. Abigail's eyes never left the stone, but her pupils immediately became glazed over.
The men were too afraid to move, and Merry and Gandalf were busy with Pippin. Legolas finally got some sense, and left Aragorn's side for a moment to throw a blanket over the floating Palantir, causing it to fall to the ground.
Abigail released a small scream as she stumbled violently into the wall. She blinked rapidly, looking terrified and her breathing was shallow.
"Abigail," Aragorn whispered. He picked himself up off the floor and rushed towards her. He touched her shoulder lightly, but she took a step back, flinching.
"The Palantir was pulled out of my hands and it started floating," he murmured, more to himself.
'What? Oh no, they all saw,' she thought, panicking.
"Please, Abigail, what happened," Legolas came over quietly.
"This has gone on too long," she whispered.
They stared at her, puzzled.
She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.
"Gandalf," she said, knowing he was listening. "I think members of the fellowship should meet in the Golden Hall. The king, Lord Éomer and Lady Éowyn deserve to come to."
"Abigail, what are you doing?" Aragorn asked slowly
"Hoping I still have time to correct some poor judgment of mine," she replied sadly. "Come, there is something you all need to know about me."
OoOoOoOoOoOoOo
I've been waiting to write this chapter almost all year now, I feel very satisfied. One of my finest, I hope, though again I leave you all with a nasty cliffy.
Thanks to Reviewers:
Lady Aphadriel-order of the...: I like to keep you guys guessing, though, now you know the truth is coming. Oh, and I don't exactly know elvish. But there is a really useful sight that has lots of information about Lord of The Rings including translations from the movie and other useful elvish phrases. The site is 'Council of Elrond' (you can google it) and it really is a lifesaver. I owe it sooo much. If you click the links to 'Language's' or Elrond's Library', that's where you'll find the most useful things. Thanks for reviewing!
writin4fun15: I am well rested now, thanks for that concern, and I'm glad you approve of the chapter. My school did a musical called 'Phantom' which is a slightly different version of 'Phantom of the Opera'. Same general plot and characters, mainly different music. Thanks!
Samantha-Girl Scout: Hey, if you were stuck with Izzy you'd get annoyed sometimes, too. Lol, and the lies are finally going to end! Are you ready? Hahaha, thanks for reviewing!
KeeperMusicNight: Hmm, well that weekend was opening night for a lot of schools, so I'm guessing it a coincidence. Or maybe it's sign from above. Yeah, there wasn't a lot of action in the chapter, but it was still needed. Thank you!
ArwenEvenstar83: Ha, heezy, I like it! The singing Treebeard was referring to was during the time she was lost in Fangorn, even before Helm's Deep. It's a bit of a stretch, but I wanted Treebeard to have some sort of acknowledgement with Abigail, no matter how small it was. And yes, if you read chapter 33 (I think it's that chapter) there's a conversation between Namian and Giedd about all that. Thanks for another super long review!
Narnian Sprite: Yeah, the Arwen living or dying thing never quite made sense. Because either way she's a half-elven so she can choose mortality, or an elf can die from a broken heart. My theory, at least for this story, is that there is an in-between phase. I think she would still outlive Aragorn for a good many years, and when he did die all her family would have already sailed away to the gray havens. So whether she would truly die or not, there would definitely be a time when she is alone. I hope that makes some sense. Happy to hear you overall liked the chapter, though, thanks for reviewing!
White Blossom of Gondor: No worries, Arwen doesn't have an evil plan or anything to win Aragorn back. I'm following the movie version in which it's Arwen who asks Elrond to reforge the sword and all that good stuff. I don't know if I'd call Liv Tyler a mary-sue exactly, though I can see where you might get that. It was probable a bit hard for Peter Jackson, since in the actual LotR books Arwen is only mention about twice. I remember that in the director's commentary, they cut a scene in which Arwen suddenly shows up at Helm's Deep to help fight with Aragorn. Now that would have been mary-sue. Anyway, thanks for the happy thoughts! It's cool to hear that you could picture Abigail with Eldarion, that's so sweet!
Again, sorry I'm about a day late with updating, but this was freaking 11 pages on Mircrosoft Word, so you better like it. Well, I suppose you don't have to, but it really is one of my longest chapters ever. Lol.
Until next time!
-MysticNight9