After her talk with her grandmother, Arwen decided to head to Estel's tent. She wanted to tell him that she had made her choice to tie her fate to his. She should have done this back in Imladris itself. But back then, she hadn't really known what she really felt for the young man who had thought her Luthien Tinuviel.
Her heart pounding with excitement, a smile on her face that made many an elf passing by question, she sprang with brisk feet towards the golden tent prepared to house her Estel. As she neared, she heard him sing a song that reminded her of the lays she had heard at her father's house, a song of the Ring of Barahir.
As she entered, she found Aragorn staring at the ring, looking so thoughtful.
"Interesting choice of a poem to now remember, especially in this land, Estel," she said. "For know you that my grandmother is the sister of the one who gifted your ancestors that ring."
For it was the truth. The ring in Aragorn's hands had descended to him straight from Barahir who had received it from Finrod Felagund as reward for saving his life in the Dagor Bragollach, the Battle of the Sudden Flame. And Finrod Felagund was the brother of Lady Galadriel, her grandmother.
The ring signified an eternal friendship between Finrod and the House of Barahir. It became an heirloom of Barahir's kin. The Numenoreans had inherited it, and the ring had passed on the kings of Arnor and the descendants of Isildur.
"Arwen!" she heard him cry his name. It soothed her ears and her heart to hear him call out to her thus. "Why are you here?"
The question stopped her in her track. It was like a thousand splinters had made its way into her heart.
Why was she here? How could he ask her a question like that? What had happened to him? Back in the throne room, she had noticed his eyes had ever sought her out. What then had happened for him to ask her why she was here?
"Do you not know, Estel?" Do you not really know?"
She let out an exasperated sigh as she relapsed into a nearby wooden chair set right beside a silvery white table.
Aragorn let out a deep breath and looked outside. "No... not really... no."
He was lying. She could feel it in her heart.
She did not know the reason.
Standing up, she said, "You know why, Aragorn, you do know why. But if you have really forgotten, I'll tell you. I've come here to answer the question you asked of me back in Imladris. I've made my choice."
"A fool's choice then," Aragorn said. "A choice that you should not have made."
"How could I not?" she asked, hurt by his words even more. She did not know why he was doing this.
"You do not want to be at the side of someone so weak as me," he replied, still not able to meet her eyes. "Didn't you hear what Silwin said? He was right, wasn't he?"
She raised her brows.
"So this is what's troubling you? His words, uncalled for?"
"His comments might have been uncalled for, but he was not entirely wrong. They say I am the hope of my people. They named me Estel when I was but a baby. But what hope can I give them? For the Shadow lengthens and hope falters every second the Enemy grows stronger. If Isildur's Bane be found, do you think I have the power to reject it? And even if I do reject, I guess that it would have to be destroyed. But how can that come to pass if Isildur himself could not take it into the Cracks of Doom."
"Isildur's Bane hasn't been found yet, Estel," she said.
"Maybe not... and if it is not found, the armies of Sauron will continue to attack this Middle Earth. The Free Peoples of the West do not now have the strength to hold the Enemy for long. Arnor is no more, and the elves flee the shores to seek the peace of the Undying Lands. The dwarves have little care of the outside world except when their own interests are concerned. Rohan is troubled by the Shadow and the eyes of their people look with deep concern both to the West and the East."
He took a deep breath and turned to her. "And Gondor... Gondor, Arwen, stands on the edge of a knife. A little wind from the East could tip it over. The Numenorean legacy that was strong there withers. The line of Anarion has failed. And the Stewards, though standing tall as a bulwark, cannot hope to fight the might of Mordor shall it decide to wage a war against the country. The Enemy knows this, and he keeps engaging us, taking great measures to keep the Free Peoples of Middle Earth from uniting once more. In such a case, Arwen, what hope can I provide the world when I myself keep none? There's a weakness in me that prevents me from going forward."
She couldn't believe her ears.
The man, who had been so eager to fight the Shadow back in Imladris, had lost the will to fight. Why? For a few words spoken by an angry elf who knew little to nothing of what happened back in the day?
"Estel, listen to me," she pleaded. "Listen, you're not weak. Do not doubt your own strength ere the time to prove it comes near. Do not lose hope when hope is what's required to keep the Enemy at bay. The Free Peoples of Middle Earth may not unite once more, whether by Eru's design or Sauron's, but we should have hope that they will stand when the test comes. You overthink, Lord of the Dunedain, over the words of a clueless elf, who knows nothing of the might of Isildur. His deeds in Numenor and in Middle Earth have accorded him the status of an elf-friend, a status equally given to Hurin and Turin, Huor and Tuor, Beren and Barahir, and a few others besides. A status that now you have received. The hope of the Free Peoples is you, Aragorn. You are the Estel of our people. But you are also the hope of men. While we elves look at you to save us from the long defeat, the men of the West look at you to bring their kingdoms back to their former glory."
Aragorn moved to speak, but she held out her hand.
"The dwarves may have little care of the world outside their mines and forges, but one day, their hopes will lie on you to save what they love the most."
"And you think I am it?" he questioned. "I'm weak. And it is not just Silwin, Arwen. I've seen it in the eyes of the elves here. The contempt. The anger. The accusations."
She smiled. "Estel," she cried, placing her hands on his shoulders, "you have grown up among elves. True, but you have only had the experience of being among those in Imladris. Imladris, which remembers the deeds of Isildur and does not lay blame on him despite his refusal of the elven counsels. Imladris, which understands truly well the perils of the darkness of Sauron, for my father led the armies of Gil-galad and faced the Enemy himself as his herald." She brought Aragorn a little closer to her and breathed his warm breath.
"But there are other elves, Estel," she said, "who have lost much in the wars of the Last Alliance. Mirkwood lost the most of all, their king Oropher dying at the Black Gates of Mordor. And yet Thranduil, his son, doesn't blame Isildur for it. But they knew only little of the reason the Enemy hated us. They only came to war because of our kinship, and that Sauron threatened their freedom to live."
Her hands now moved to cup his face, and her fingers felt his beard. She thought it overgrown.
"The elves of Lorien though have borne the hatred of Sauron the most. My grandmother has ever been considered a threat to his existence. Sauron's enemy in Middle Earth has ever been my grandmother. Why else would he choose to abide in Dol Guldur if not to spite my grandmother's plans? If the Enemy chooses to attack Middle Earth, Aragorn, he would do so in the North, and Lothlorien will be the first to face the brunt of his armies. Even now, orcs are closer to our borders than ever before, and the elves patrolling our northern reaches hear often the shrill cries of the orcs, baying for our blood."
She let out a grunt.
"And many of those who live here know the reason of Sauron's hatred for us. Many know of the rings of power for stories have come here from Eregion and spread often, though they might not know where the rings of power may be. But they went to war at the end of the previous age and lost many of their kith and kin, even their king and then their prince. Many lost to the tests of time, and when they saw the Shadow taking shape again in Middle Earth, their hearts moved to anger. And this anger makes them blame Isildur and your kind, for they do not understand the mortals like many elves don't. Even I did not before I met you in Imladris, Aragorn. And, Silwin, Silwin has much to blame. Ever since Amdir's fall, he has taken to despising your kind. Can you blame him?"
"I don't know, Arwen," he answered. "But his words... they were..."
She shook her head and placed a finger on his lips. "No, if you hear his story, you will sympathize with him. For his loss is not unlike yours, Estel. He lost his family in the wars of the Last Alliance. Alone he returned from Mordor. His father and brothers, all dead on the battle plains of Dagorlad. The war he fought alongside the greatest lords of elves and men, but he often wonders: to what end? Victory was snatched right from under the jaws of the victors. The war made on the Enemy to destroy evil forever, but the Shadow endured, Aragorn, it endured." She sighed. "The lord Amroth whom he followed ever so loyally died in that war. But the war did not fulfil the reason it was made. He blames your lineage for the shadow that now takes shape. Isildur took from Sauron the one thing whose destruction would have done justice for all the deaths of his kith and kin. But it was not to be so. The victory which should have been has meant a long defeat for my kind. After all the spectacle of Isildur's Bane, he has had more than two thousand years to hone his hate for the world of men. Do not blame him although his haughtiness is no excuse for the discourtesy shown in the court. He only spoke from the bitterness of his heart, Estel, and he shall get over it. This I know in my heart. And not all elves hold with him, Estel. Not me. Not Lady Galadriel. Not Lord Celeborn. You are but Isildur's heir, not Isildur himself. You, my Estel, shall be among the greatest of this age of the world whose valor will defeat the Shadow."
"Yet in my heart, O lady of the elves, I'm unable to put his words to sleep. Doubts gnaw at my heart. Do I deserve this? Do I deserve the crown that I shall perhaps one day seek?"
"Aragorn," she said, "do you think so little of our kind when you have lived among us many years more than you did among your own people? You are a man after your kind, but in your heart, you shall always be an elf. For do I not look into your heart and perceive the light within and the hope you have now suppressed? Let not Silwin's haughty words take that hope away from you. Let them not cast any doubt into your mind. You will be the one to bring your people from the nothingness that they have been cast into. For, Estel, the time draws near for the dominion of Men and for the elves to fade away into the West."
Aragorn nodded and turned away to look into the night again.
"And you will be going away with the elves, I suppose," he said.
Tears brimmed in her eyes. "That choice I am yet to make," she lied, even though she had already made her choice. But it wouldn't do her any good if she were to make the choice public to him. There was a shadow of a doubt yet in his heart, and she knew that until he did not drive it away he would never welcome her choice. It pained her to wait longer, but she determined she would. "You should sleep now, Estel. You've done much in the south, and there's much more to do yet. Stay hither in Lorien for a while and do not ride for Rivendell at the first light of dawn. You still need to heal."
"I am already healed, Arwen."
"In body, not in mind," she countered. "Until the blackness of the doubts in your heart withers not away, you won't be healed. And the heir of Isildur without hope in his heart will do the world no good. Besides, you have achieved what many mortals could not, undergone trials whose trauma might lay fresh in the mind. But you persevered the darkness of Mordor, and that's what earned you my grandmother's favor."
"And I thank the White Lady for that. If Lothlorien hadn't come to my aid, I would be dead right now."
"Not by chance did your luck wear out, Estel. You were meant to come to Lothlorien. In which case, you were meant to meet me here. Is that not an encouraging thought?"
He nodded and smiled a little.
She approached him and stood at his side, looking outside the small window into the outside world. "Our paths and choices have their own challenges, Aragorn, and we shouldn't let doubts drive our hope away, no matter what. Otherwise, the Shadow shall win even before it strikes."
She placed a hand on his shoulders, stood for a moment, and then turned and made her way out of the tent, trying very heard to bottle up her tears.