Hi guys! Sorry that it's been a little while since an update. I'll try to get the next chapter up sooner next time! I want to thank my reviewers- Pissenoffanis, Roranon, Darth Obvious, and jules14. I appreciate all the comments that anybody leaves, but constructive criticism is most especially appreciated. Thanks again and I hope that you enjoy this next chapter.

Odilyn

Chapter 2

The sun set in the West, casting its final rays across Middle Earth. Anariel sat outside her hut, wrapped tightly in a blanket and gazing longingly towards the West. She was not one to frequently engage in regrets. It wasn't in her nature. There was no use crying over things you couldn't change. But with the arrival of Elrohir, flashes of the past again returned to torment her wounded mind and heart . . .

She stood in the deepening twilight, the sun a mere line of fire on the horizon. She was standing on a hill above Imladris. It was one of her favorite spots. You could see for miles towards the West. She frequently came there to watch the sun set and today was no exception. But something was different. Her head was bowed. Her pale face was drawn and tired-looking, odd in and of itself for an elf. Her hands trembled as they tightly gripped the fabric of her dark green skirt. A determined look entered her eyes and she looked once more toward the West, as though to bid it farewell. She opened her mouth to speak fated words . . .

She stood before him, shoulders squared and chin high. It was after sunset and she had no light. She was utterly diminished. He looked at her wonderingly, fear and sadness etched on his venerable face. Her only light was in her eyes, which held a mixture of shame and defiance.

"How could you, Anariel? Did you think of no one but yourself? Did you not consider the sorrow we, your family, would feel for you?" Tears entered his ancient, grey eyes.

"I knew what I was doing, what I am doing! This was my choice! Will you not accept it and love me just the same as you once pledged to do?"

Anger now entered his face. "You treat your choice as if it were no more than a whim! If eternal estrangement is what you desire, so be it. Get you gone!"

She turned slowly away, agony written across her face. Before she left, she shot one more imploring glance at her uncle, but his face was as still and unmovable as stone, and as hard. She ran from the room, tears streaming down her face, an intense pain ripping her heart open from the inside . . .

Arwen's face: disdain and pity. Elladan's face: shock and disappointment. Elrohir's face: pain and bewilderment. Elrond's face: sorrow and . . . anger. The anger was the hardest to deal with. He had never been angry with her. Though she had played more than one rather improper and tasteless prank on the unsuspecting, even then she had somehow wiggled her way out of having his anger directed towards her. But to have those cold, chillingly wrathful eyes turned on her . . . she sighed.

She tucked a strand of her loose hair behind her ear. "The Daughter of the Sun". That's what he once called her. It wasn't true of course. Only the Maia were true daughters of the Sun. But her joy and golden light and song and her love of the morning instead of the twilight as was the custom of most elves had given her this nickname. It was a name of affection, of acceptance.

A sparrow landed in front of her and emitted a series of chirps and whistles, startling her from her reverie. Her light brightened a bit.

"I told him to stay away. But will he listen – no! I should have known he would want to talk though." As she stood, the sun fell behind the horizon. Her light left her. It wasn't just dimmed, it was gone. She was still beautiful, but she looked very mortal. Her eyes were blue, her hair was red, her skin was pale, but that was all.

She made her way to the creek where she had been washing earlier. Elrohir was there. His pale skin glowed in the dark as brightly as the stars twinkling above in the night sky. He was sitting on a log gazing thoughtfully into the water. Anariel stopped for a moment and looked at him. He looked like a younger version of his father – same midnight hair, same piercing grey eyes. She shuddered slightly as she once again remembered the anger, bordering on rage. She forced the image out of her head and instead focused on making sure that her hard, unreadable mask was firmly in place. She stepped forward.

"Elrohir, I thought I told you to wait," Anariel said softly. He looked up suddenly and his eyes widened at the sight of her. He stood and crossed to her. He didn't touch her, but stood over her and inspected her sadly.

"The Daughter of the Sun, our light, our joy. That's what you were Anariel." He sounded hurt and pained. "Why would you forsake that? Did it mean nothing to you?"

"I was never the 'Daughter of the Sun', Elrohir. I had no ambitions to be more than I was. I was not pretentious. I was dear to you, my family, but in the sight of the Valar I was worth no more than any other elf. The choice was made. I cannot go back. Nor do I wish to." Her chin lifted and she gave him a proud look.

As he looked at her, a slightly startling look entered his eyes. Anariel didn't like it, coming from him. He lifted a hand and stroked her cheek. He was leaning closer, looking deeply into her blue eyes. She whirled away and turned her back to him, shoulders slumped.

"No, Elrohir. It wasn't meant to be. I love you, as my family. Do not ask for more. Be content."

"But, Anariel . . ." He started, reaching for her.

"No! I am mortal, Elrohir!" she hissed violently as she turned to him, her eyes blazing, not with her elvish light, but with anger. "Mortal! I chose this, just as my father did. I will die. Not for many years, but I will. The light has left me. Only during the day, in the sunlight does my elven part still shine along with my gift. I am mortal now and I cannot give it back or take back what I once had. You have to accept that I can't give you forever. And I can't give you the love that you want or deserve."

Elrohir just looked at her, at this beautiful, wonderful, now mortal woman who had held part of his heart since she came to Imladris centuries ago. He knew it was never meant to be, especially when she chose mortality. But he had hoped. Oh, how he had hoped.

"Elrohir?" There was a hopeful note in her voice. "Did Uncle really say that he was wrong?"

She had a pleading look in her eyes. It made her sound like a small, vulnerable child. She was fairly young by elvish standards, but as a mortal she had long ago reached the age of maturity. Elrohir saw suddenly. It hit him like a punch in the gut. When she died, he would still be young. He would not be ready to quit Middle Earth. And he had never even considered giving up his immortality for her. His heart constricted at the thought. No. He realized fully that he could never have what he wanted. Not with her. He sighed.

"Yes, Anariel. He called Arwen, Elladan, and me to him. He said that he had let the pride of the Eldar blind him to the love he still owed you as his brother's child. He loves you, Anariel. He realizes now how much."

Anariel sighed inwardly. It was hard to forgive. It was even harder to forget. Memories had been all she had for too long, painful memories.

"Well, maybe it is time to finally make some new memories," she said quietly to herself. "Elrohir, I will come. The Darkness is growing. The time is approaching for the final stand. I must help."

Elrohir smiled softly at her. She was brave, you had to give her that. The only time he had ever seen her afraid had been before she was to tell his father about her choice.

"Anariel, before we part ways for the night, I want you to know . . ." he paused and Anariel shifted uncomfortably. He pushed on. "I want you to know that I have loved you for a long time, but I now realize that you are the one who deserves far more than I can give. If I loved you like you should be loved, I would not hesitate to give up my immortality for you. But when I think of doing that, my heart quails within me and the sea-longing increases ten-fold. You should be with someone who can give you his forever." Even as he was saying this, a face appeared in his mind – a rugged, worn, but incredibly noble and handsome face. He smirked a little. "I do not want our relationship to become strained or uncomfortable. I sincerely want you to find the love that you wish for."

Anariel wiped away a tear that had slipped out during this speech. He was a wonderful elf and would make some elleth very happy some day. She could only hope that what he wished for her would come to pass.

"Thank you, cousin. Your words mean much to me. I suppose we should sleep. After all, as I recall you are an especially early riser." A teasing glint entered her eyes and the corner of her mouth lifted in a smirk.

Elrohir groaned. It was a well-known fact that Elrohir was a little too fond of a good lie-in. Only Anariel would remember that for all these years.

"Ah, Anariel. I have a feeling that during the trip to Imladris, you will try to make up for fifteen years lost bantering and teasing."

"You know me well, cousin. Besides, I have had fifteen years to come up with all sorts of exceptionally witty insults and comebacks, so I would spend tonight oiling up the rusty hinges of your tongue and sharpening the dull edges of your brain." She laughed lightly at his offended look and dodged his playful slap. She hadn't laughed in years and it was surprisingly refreshing. It was time, time to move on.

Now, please please review. It makes my day when I get a review alert. Even just a line saying "I liked it" or "It stunk". (Preferably the former of course :) )

By the by here goes -- Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings. It is all Tolkien's genius. I own Anariel and some of the plot but that is all. There you go. I did it.