Into The Woods

By Arabella Thorne

 

 

I just wanted to do my version of how these two star-crossed cookies met. It's a little silly and slightly out of canon, And I know theirs is the GRANDE AFFAIRE D'AMOR, but though I'd tweak it a bit to fit. I wanted it to be a bit less, well....overwhelming...But here you go...

---

"Glorfindel, we must halt. Amalabeth's limping. It's her left rear leg."

Lord Glorfindel, on his stallion Asfaloth, raised his gloved hand and Lady Arwen's escort came to a halt.

He dismounted quickly, and pulling aside the flowing green cape that Arwen wore, he lifted her mare's left hind hoof.

"Indeed my lady, she's got a thorn or stick deep in her frog. Luckily," he said straightening and moving to her side, "We are close enough to return her to Imladris and get you another horse. Do you wish to go back with her, or stay here?"

"Oh 'tis a lovely day, we can have lunch, my ladies and I, and the escort of course."

"As you wish." Bowing slightly, he gently grabbed her around the waist and slipped her off her mare. Arwen went to Amalabeth's head and rubbed her nose. "My poor girl! You just need a rest my dear! You can't carry me all the way to Lothlorien with a bad hoof. Go now with Glorfindel!" She put a quick kiss on the soft silver skin and stepped away. Glorfindel took the mare by the reins and remounting, pulled her along behind Asfaloth in a slow walk.

"Well," Arwen turned to her escort and ladies smiling, "I suspect we will be here until evening. I hope father does not get vexed!"

Arwen's handmaiden Edenil, smiled as she dismounted. "No, you are well protected and just beyond the borders of Imladris. We are perfectly safe here." She eyed the six escorts with a smile. Their next in command, Valmarian grinned and with a wave of his hand, indicated the other elves were to dismount.

The company, surrounded by maples, sycamores and some pines, found themselves in a pleasant grassy glade, perfect for a stop. It was a cool day, with a high wind sending clouds across the sky.

In a short while, the horses were tethered, a pavilion, tables and chairs arranged and a luncheon laid out.

Restless after her meal, Arwen stood stretching, "Edenil, I shall go for a walk. I won't be long."

"I shall come with."

"No my dear, I am perfectly fine here, as you pointed out earlier. I just want a little excersize."

"All right then, just don't go beyond calling reach."

Arwen sighed, slightly exasperated. Then smiled. Of course, for an elf, calling range was quite far!

She stepped into the dappled shadows and pulled her cloak about her tighter to keep it from snagging on the underbrush. The sun spilled around her in puddles of gold, wavering with the movement of the leaves. Looking forward to a long visit with her grandparents, the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood, she was glad for the time to herself. On a long trip like this, she was constantly surrounded. And the further from her Home in Imladris, the more the company stuck together. And though Arwen enjoyed their companionship, there were times when being alone was a blessing.

Arwen liked to spend time in Lothlorien. She missed her mother's quiet sensibilities and good advice. In Caras Galadhon, she had the comfort of another woman's view on things. And as much as she loved her father and her brothers, it was much easier to discuss things with Galadriel.

Twenty minutes later, Arwen found herself at the side of a small stream, flowing rapidly over and around moss-covered rocks and chuckling in its hurry. She bent among a cluster of deep purple irises to take a drink.

When she sat up, she knew suddenly with a shiver, she was no longer alone.

Looking around quickly, she pulled out the long deadly dagger at her side and held it close. Could there be danger this close to home?

A slight rustle, and then a young man's voice called out in Elvish, "Lady, who are you and why are you out here all alone?"

"Who I am is none of your business, stranger."

She looked over her shoulder, and turned, the stream at her back. She could just see the tall slender shape of a man in a stand of maple saplings across from her. "Come out and show yourself." She brandished her dagger and prepared to defend herself.

Almost dropping the blade in surprised, she found herself staring at a tall human, dressed in Ranger browns and blacks. He was young, unshaven and his hair hung below his shoulders in a tangle that spoke of long disinterest. He had intense blue-grey eyes though and he was smiling slightly. And unusual for a human, his Elvish had been perfect.

As he stepped out before her, rapidly brushing his hair out of his face, he stumbled slightly, and Arwen could see blood on his lower left leg.

"You are a Ranger? What brings you here, and injured?"

"My business is my own," his smile broadened. He stepped forward and his limp became more pronounced.

Exasperated, Arwen sheathed her dagger and pointed to a small boulder between them. "Oh please sit sir Ranger and let me look at that."

Taking a deep breath, the stranger nodded and sat awkwardly on the rock.

Arwen, touching the damp spot looked up and said, "I'm afraid I will have to cut the cloth away."

He just nodded. She took out her dagger and bent to carefully saw the ragged cloth open and away from a deep gash beneath his knee.

The Ranger looked at her river of deep dark hair as she bent to her task. He long to run his hands through it, and blushed at his thought. She was one of the most beautiful elf maidens he had ever seen. And he had seen many in his day. But she, he had not seen her like, ever. Seeing her standing there at the waterside, surrounded by the purple irises, well, she could have been Luthien returned.

It took him a moment to realize she was speaking again.

"How did you come by this? It is not a knife or sword wound." She touched it softly. "And it is not only a few days old, but infected." Her glance settled into a frown, "Have you no healing skills young Ranger?"

"Well, yes, but I lost my supplies (actually, they had fallen in a stream, as he had scrambled up a tree). My news could not wait and I was just in a hurry to reach-" He snapped his mouth shut and smiled again.

Arwen just shook her head at him: Men! He was just like one of her brothers! "You did not say how you came by this?"

The Ranger actually blushed! "I fell out of a tree..."

She held up her hand. "Tell me no more." But she couldn't help grinning, "It is not like a Ranger to 'fall out of a tree'!"

"I was attacking an orc." He said leaning forward. "And I got him too. I just hit a branch coming down. I need to tell my father---"

Again, he closed his mouth and she shook her head again, puzzled at his sudden stops and starts.

But she realized his news would impact her travels severely if he was right. "Where was this orc, sir Rang-"

"I am Aragorn, my lady."

"I see Sir Aragorn-"

"Just...Aragorn."

Arwen put her hands on her hips. "All right! Where did you cross this orc and were there others?"

"Just beyond the Gol Araphin Hills, two days journey from here. There were others, but I did not get a head count as I was defending myself." He smiled down at her. "Now, if you are done staring at my wound, I do need to press on." He stood up with a wobble and tried to bow.

Arwen smiled. "Come, before you do, I have salve and bandages where I am camped. And you can clean up as well. You'll look less like a wild man when you see your father."

Aragorn, realizing a little help would allow him a quicker return to Elrond with his news, acquiesced, though wincing at her description.

As they walked, Aragorn kept stealing glances Arwen's way. Her thoughtful face was soft and rosy in the wind, her hair, much the same color as his fathers, sparkled with highlights. Her lips were soft and just made for kissing. But her eyes! Stormy and dark, then benign, mercurial, just as Elrond's eyes changed when he listened to Aragorn describe some mishap. He smiled ruefully at the ground. His father's eyes were going to change many shades when he heard about this day's work!

Aragorn wondered where the beauty came from and where she was going to?

As they entered the glade where her pavilion was situated, Aragorn stopped appalled, the blood draining from his face. He recognized several of the male elves, who looked up at his arrival.

They were all from Imladris, his home.

Who then, was this lady? He had never seen her, and he knew he would certainly have remembered her.

"Estel! Well met!" Called out Valmarian as he strode up with a grin. "What brings you here?"

Arwen stopped, and her face mirrored Aragorn's shock. Estel? Her illusive foster brother with whom she had never met, except as a baby? He was either about with Elladan and Elrohir, or in Mirkwood, or on a hunt with the Rangers when she had made her infrequent visits home these last 20 years or so. And here she was, again on her way to Lothlorien...and she might have never met him, save her horse had gone lame.

"This kind lady has brought me here for a little bandaging..."

"Ah, Estel! In another scrape again! Well, Lady Arwen's hands are almost as talented as her fathers, so---"

"Lady Arwen!" Aragorn turned to look at the woman next to him, mouth open. He bowed again, deeper this time and would have fallen, had she not grasped him by the arm. "Yes, yes...Estel. I am Arwen and it is high time we met!" She straightened him up and helped him sit on the wheel of the cart carrying their supplies.

In moments, she had out her box of medicines and bandages and set to work cleaning and wrapping Aragorn's leg.

When she finished, she looked at the young Ranger whose eyes seemed to glow at her. "I-I...it is just as well you are headed back to father. I
can do stitches in a pinch, but he is much more the expert than I."

"I am sure you have done quite enough, my lady." He smiled and stood. He really felt he needed to be on his way to tell Elrond about the closeness of the orcs infiltration, but maybe if he stayed just a little while longer...Imladris was less than half a day's journey from here.

He sat quickly, as if weak.

"Here Aragorn, come to the pavilion. I suspect you are hungry and weary after your...fall."

He glanced sharply at her, but she had moved ahead, to move some chairs. Edenil, who had missed Arwen's return, hurried up as she came out of the woods with the other ladies in tow, her eyebrows raised at the rag-tag appearance of Aragorn.

"And who is that my lady?"

"Tis my foster brother, Aragorn."

Edenil looked even more surprised and then silently helped arrange things so Aragorn could sit with his leg propped up.

Both ladies brought him to a chair and fussed over him, Edenil brought him some warm water, soap and a towel to clean up. Arwen went so far as to place her green cloak over him.

"I am not cold!"

"It is just for comfort's sake Aragorn! Edenil and I will go get you some lunch." The other ladies, smiling slightly at the Ranger, joined Edenil and Arwen at the food hampers.

About to protest again, Aragorn realized the cloak was full of her faint flowery scent, like roses after a rain. He pulled it closer to him and closed his eyes. How wonderful!

A cool hand lay on his brow and Aragorn opened his eyes quickly. "You do feel a little warm Aragorn." She called out to Edenil who was pouring some wine. "Would you make a strong cup of willow bark tea? I think he's coming down with a fever."

Edenil nodded and went over to the fire.

"Nay, Lady, do not worry, I am not feverish." He smiled up into her beautiful, slightly almond-shaped eyes content to stare. "Merely warm from my run today."

He sighed in happiness when she lay her hand again on his forehead and then his cheek. "No Aragorn. You definitely have a fever."
But Aragorn knew what the fever arose from, and it was not his wound.


Feeling less guilty as the day moved on into dusk, Aragorn relaxed and enjoyed being cosseted by the Elvish ladies, but most especially Arwen.


Arwen and Aragorn had wandered from the pavilion and gone off under the trees. (There was only so far he was going to play the invalid. He didn't want Arwen to think he was a complete weakling!)

As for the others: Edenil was calmly embroidering and Arwen's other ladies were tidying up, and two were playing a game of chance.

Arwen's escort were sitting around the fire, and Valmarian's lute had appeared and was being tuned.


The two stopped in a small glade and sat on a big rock next to each other.

Aragorn quietly asked, "My lady, now that we are known to each other, might I know why you have stopped here, so close to Imladris?"

"My horse went lame this morning and Glorfindel has taken her back and will bring me a new horse."

"And when you have a new mount, what is your direction then?

"I am for Caras Galadhon."

"Ah, The Lord and Lady of the Wood."

"My grandparents, as well you know."

"Of course. It is quite a long trip."

"And it is the reason you and I have never met! I am either there, or you are out with my brothers or in Mirkwood, or---"
"Unlucky me."


Arwen looked at him with a smile. "Unlucky for both of us."

She rose from where she sat and walked a few steps away to stare thoughtfully at the few faint stars twinkling. What was it about this young Ranger? He had been an attentive listener all the afternoon, asking intelligent questions and even laughing at her sallies. For a human, he was very comfortable to be with! She threw a glance back at him: His eyes glowed in the light of the rising quarter moon. He was actually quite attractive, what one could make out now that he had cleaned off several days dirt.

"Look, there through the leaves, my father's star!"

"Father's star....? Ah, you mean Earendil. Of course."

Aragorn stood with that and went to stand behind Arwen. He took a deep breath and laid a hand on her left shoulder. She quivered under his hand, but did not move or say anything.

He looked up at the deepening night sky and sighed. What was it about Arwen? It was not just her sheer beauty, it was her intelligence and humor. Some of the stories she told about Elladan and Elrohir would give him many chances to needle them, especially when they poked fun at some...human mistake of his. He glanced down at his leg. Not that he didn't make it easy for them sometimes!

Taking his heart into his hands, Aragorn leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her collarbone. Again, Arwen said nothing.

She then turned, and looked up him, moonlight sparkling in her eyes. He bent and kissed her on the mouth, softly, reverently, afraid she might disappear like a sprite.

And his fate was sealed.

Arwen returned his kiss, surprised at her reaction. Her arms slowly went around his neck and the kiss deepened.


But the spell was broken, by the sound of greetings coming from the encampment.

"Glorfindel must be back," she whispered to Aragorn, as she pulled reluctantly away.

"Yes," he sighed, softly running a hand down her neck and shoulder, "too soon."

The two of them turned, Aragorn's arm around her waist. About to return, they paused as an elf came towards them dressed in dark riding leathers.

He stepped out into the moonlight, his gloves in his hands, an eyebrow cocked in question, his serious eyes glittering.

Aragorn's arm slipped off of Arwen's waist quickly and he bowed slightly.

"Well met by moonlight my children." Elrond said, slapping his gloves in his hands idly. "Arwen, I see you have met our wandering Estel."

Arwen jumped forward with that and then ran to her father to hide her embarrassment. "Yes Ada, at last." She hugged him and then looked at Aragorn, who swallowed nervously.

"I-I was just about to leave Ada. I just didn't realize the time----"

"He is hurt, and I made him stay to rest. He needs stitches I think."

Aragorn winced at that, smiling crookedly. "Oh no, she exaggerates. It is not that bad. I just was in such a hurry to return that I..."

"...stopped to pay Arwen a call?"

"No father." Arwen could sense a bit of edge to her father's comment.
"You know Amalabeth went lame. He came upon us here and it was sheer coincidence. I am surprised to see you here, though."

"I decided a ride would be a welcome diversion from tallying the livestock." He waved Aragorn forward with the gloves. "Come, let me see this injury."

Hanging back, Arwen caught the brief glance her father threw her as the two went to the pavilion. Of all things, the glance looked uncertain.


Aragorn, feeling embarrassed, sat where his father indicated in the pavilion. He looked up at Arwen as she entered and she smiled at him, her eyes glowing from the nearby torch. Elrond, only pausing long enough to remove his leather jerkin, inspected Arwen's box of medicines. While the elf lord's back was to the couple, Arwen, feeling impulsive, bent and kissed Aragorn quickly, one eyebrow going up with a grin. She sat next to him demurely as Elrond turn with a handful of supplies.

Unwrapping the bandage, he looked at the ragged gash. "Nasty Estel. How did you acquire this?" He put a hand on it briefly, feeling the infection. He shook his head. "And could you do nothing to stave off infection? I am going to have to clean this thoroughly and stitch it." He stood. "And I am afraid, it won't be pleasant."

Aragorn still thinking of Arwen's kiss just nodded and said "All right, Ada."

Elrond frowned at his foster son and then quickly brought a hand to his forehead. "Estel! You are running a fever as well."

Arwen glanced at Aragorn with concern and he smiled back at her. "Yes father."

Arwen stood and sighed. "I told Aragorn he was sick, but he wouldn't listen to me."

Elrond shook his head again. And then looked at Arwen's supplies. "Come Estel, I can deal with this easier at Home. You were headed that way originally, were you not?"

Aragorn stood and Arwen pushed him back into the chair. "I will re-wrap this father, and then the two of you can go."

Nodding, Elrond went off to get a horse from one of the other elves.

Arwen, bending to bandage Aragorn's leg, took her time, allowing Aragorn to enjoy the graceful movement of her hands and her intermittent smiles. He reached down and gently put a strand of her hair behind one of her delicately pointed ears. "Oh, Arwen, I am---"

"Hush Aragorn! Not now! Not with Ada here-"

"Arwen, are you done? I have a horse for Aragorn. And you may as well come back Home. There is no need for you to sleep out here, with Home so close. Amalabeth's foot should be well enough to ride on by tomorrow afternoon. The escort can come or go as they decide."

Elrond paused to look at the two of them, Arwen smiling and Aragorn bending awkwardly to readjust a boot.

"Father," Aragorn said looking up, "You should know that a company of orcs have gotten as far as the Dol Araphin Hills. I killed several but I did not get all of them. This is what I was rushing to tell you."

Elrond nodded. "All right. The whole escort will return to Imladris and we set up another route for Lothlorien."

Working hard not to grin outright, Arwen smiled, saying, "As you will, father."


Aragorn, overjoyed that he would see Arwen a little longer, mounted the horse given to him by one of the escorts (who rode double with another) and followed behind Elrond contentedly as they rode back to Imladris.

His whole world had changed! He glanced at Arwen riding at his side, the rising moon casting glitter in her eyes and off the gold threads in her deep blue gown. He felt his heart swell as he looked at her. And he was hopeful that she had similar feelings for him. It was hard to believe he was falling in love with his foster-sister!


Once they reached Imladris, Aragorn admitted to himself he was feeling a bit tired and woozy. It had been a long day. He sat on his borrowed steed in the courtyard of the stables while everyone bustled about dismounting and tending to the horses. Aragorn yawned and slowly swung his leg off to dismount. Almost crumpling to the ground, he felt strong arms lift him and set him on his feet. The un-amused glance of his father swam into his sight. "Can you walk Estel, or must I carry you like a sleepy five-year-old?"

"I-I can walk Ada." Aragorn covered another yawn as he straightened. "I am just more tired than I thought." He blinked sleepily. And then went rigid with a sudden thought. "Where is Arwen?" He looked around quickly.

"She has gone to her rooms, I imagine. Aragorn," Elrond lay a hand on his forehead and cheek. "You are quite flush. Come, lean on me."

Aragorn, disdaining his father's offer, brushed aside his arm and went firmly towards the stairs that led to the main House. He was no mere boy.

He didn't get two steps when the ground tilted funny. "Oh Elbereth!" Aragorn thought, as he spiraled into darkness, "I think I shall just take a little nap after all."

His wounded leg lay wrapped from knee to ankle and outside the quilt, supported by a green silk pillow. Aragorn wanted to sit up, but his head tried to whirl him off into unconsciousness again, so he lay back down with a sigh and assessed his situation. He was clean, in his bed, in his home. Now. Just how had he gotten here? He rubbed his forehead tiredly and stared at the inlaid wooden ceiling.

Whirling head or no, he sat up quickly wincing as he slightly pulled the stitches he could feel now in his leg: Arwen!! Where was she? Oh, had she said anything to Elrond?? Would she regret their kiss last night, at least he hoped it had only been last night

 

 

Well, the story is taking a bit of a twist here.....I don't know what made me think of it.....but there you go. This is also going to be rated PG-13 for a bit of heavy petting.



As he pondered his confusion, he lay back down again. Then a brief knock was heard, and Arwen stuck her head in. "Ah, awake at last! How are you feeling?"

"Arwen!" Aragorn sat up quickly, frowning at his headache. "I-I feel as well as can be expected."

She came into the room and ran a hand lightly on his bandaged leg. "Ada didn't make you suffer, did he? He seemed a little on edge last night and I just wondered if he suspected something had happened between us and that's why he said in the pavilion, ""I'm afraid this will be unpleasant."" She mimicked the melodious cadences of Elrond's voice.

"Suffer? Ah no, no," He blinked, trying to recall. "Ada has never been spiteful, that I can think of. I do not remember much about last night, except it was last night when I kissed you, right?"

Arwen leaned over, staring into his eyes and then kissed him. "Yes, last night." She brought a hand to his face. " And now this morning. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Aragorn sat up straighter and brought up a hand to stroke her cheek. "Well, you can kiss me again..."

Smiling, she leaned forward and their lips met and their kiss quickly deepened. Sinking into the kiss, Arwen was about to sit next to him, when another quick knock was heard. With admirable Elvish speed, Arwen stood and said in a normal voice. "Well your condition has improved immeasurably from last night, Aragorn."

"Yes, Estel, you look much better," his father said as he strolled into the room. Arwen slipped to the side, to let her father approach, and as Elrond examined the wounded leg, Arwen blew Aragorn a kiss and waved as she left.

Elrond looked at Aragorn when he was done, his head slightly cocked in puzzlement. "Is everything all right between you and Arwen? I know it must be a little awkward for you both, since you have not met as adults. I felt some awkwardness last night when I came upon you in the glade."

Aragorn smiled and sighed deeply. "Oh no, everything is fine between us father. We just have a lot of catching up to do."

Elond put a fond hand on his foster son's shoulders. "Well I am glad to hear that. A few days bed rest Estel, and then you can be up and about. And your news about the orcs, saves me worry about Arwen. I am sending archers out today."

He poured Aragorn a cordial from a stoppered bottle on his bedside and silently handed it to him. Aragorn made a face and drank it quickly. Handing it back to his father he said, "Ada, you would think after all this time, these distillations would taste better!"

"Estel! Don't be such a child!!" He laughed as he left.

Two days later, Aragorn was getting about with the help of a walking stick. And Arwen, waiting to see the outcome of the Elvish archers skirmish with the orcs, was happy to keep him company.

It was almost a game for the two to snatch kisses, looks and time alone within the populated confines of their Home.

One afternoon, the two decided to go on a picnic by horseback, to a place, far from the House and Elvish foot traffic.

As Aragorn adjusted the rucksack on the pommel of his saddle, he saw Elrond stroll through the stable courtyard in his comfortable leather riding gear. Oh no! He didn't mean to join he and Arwen did he??

"Ada." He bowed slightly. "Where are you bound?" He asked casually as he needlessly adjusted his horse's girth.

"There is a storm coming in Estel and one of the patrolling scouts, Calador, mentions that the main fishing weir upriver has pulled loose on one side. So I am going to inspect the damage and make a decision whether to repair it or let it go."

"Do you want me to come with, Ada?"

Elrond cocked an eyebrow. "With you just now walking without a stick? No son, go entertain Arwen. A picnic for the two of you is just the thing. Just keep an eye on the weather!"

"Yes Ada." He bowed slightly as his father gracefully mounted his stallion and cantered out of the stables.

Arwen joined Aragorn holding an old blanket for their picnic, just as Elrond left. Glancing at her father's retreating form she asked frowning slightly, "Where is father off to?"

"To inspect the main fishing weir. A storm is coming in he says."

"Well, then, we'd better be off then!"

Aragorn, smiling, kissed her quickly and helped her mount.



It was a glorious day for a ride, the sky swept clean by a high wind that blew wisps of clouds before it like full-masted schooners.

Arwen knew exactly where they need to go and Aragorn was delighted by the lovely isolation of it. A narrow stream fell down the high cliff side into a small pool and bubbled and ran out of the dell where they dismounted. A few oaks and maples grew against the west wall.

"Tis a lovely spot for a picnic Arwen." He smiled at her as he swung off his horse. "A perfect place to be alone with you."

"Exactly my thinking Estel. Mother and father used to come here all the time before I was born. Father brought the twins and I here once and now I come here whenever I can. It is lovely and one of my favorite spots in Imladris." She hopped down from her mare Amalabeth (now recovered) and striding over to the cool shade beneath a spreading maple, flung the blanket out, straightening the corners and brushing off leaves. Aragorn brought the rucksack and set it down. The moment he did, he swept Arwen into an embrace, his mouth seeking hers. She returned his ardor.

Many minutes later, they pulled apart, a bit breathlessly. "I have wanted to do that for many days Arwen."

Eyes shining, she replied, "And I have wanted you to! It just seems, everywhere we go, well, elves show up!"

"Or worse yet, Ada!"

"Do you think he suspects?"

"I hope not! I think we have been very circumspect."

"Well, except last night, after dinner. I thought for sure Glorfindel saw us behind the pillar. Your dress had that long train..."

"Well, I had to wear something appropriate for the gathering." She clasped her hands in front of her and turned to look out into the sunlit dell. "I hate the going away feast for those leaving for the Grey Havens. It's morbid. No one is happy, really."

He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. "It reminds you of your mother, doesn't it? I wished I had met her."

Silent for a moment, Arwen then turned into his embrace and lay her head on his chest. "Mother was too ill for a feast. We all had dinner in her solarium." Arwen felt tears prick her eyes and she turned her face into Aragorn's shirt. "I miss her so much," she whispered to his warm tunic. "That's why I visit Grandmother so much. I just, well, need to be around a...mother. Someone who understands." He hugged her tighter and laid his head atop hers. They remained that way for several minutes.

"Well, why don't we have lunch?"

Arwen nodded and the two made themselves comfortable on the blanket. Aragorn brought out all the goodies from the rucksack and Arwen fixed them so they could nibble off what had been supplied: cold chicken, fruit, fresh rolls, cheese and an icy cold bottle of white wine.

When lunch was finished, Aragorn lay back and closed his eyes, as happy and contented as he had ever been. Arwen, replete, lay on his chest and the two, relaxing, slept.

The sun, sliding to the west, cast long shadows in the dell. The waterfall rushed over the cliff side and swallows dipped in and out of the shinning spray. The horses had their heads lowered, back hooves cocked, drowsing in the sun.

A shadow crossed Aragorn's face as he slowly woke up. Arwen still lay across his chest, eyes half open, sound asleep.

It was cloudy and the wind had come up.

Reluctantly, he shook Arwen. As she lifted her head, He thought again how much he loved her. So beautiful and sleepy-eyed, he bent and kissed her slowly and she responded.

He ran his arm down her back and then pulled her closer by the back of the neck. They both sat up, still kissing. When Aragorn pulled away, he was breathing hard and Arwen's eyes glowed at him, a deep luminous blue. She gazed at him, steady and intense and finally in a whisper, said, "Aragorn, I love you."

He pulled her to him again his heart full. This time, his hand brushed the shoulder of her gown off. She gasped against his mouth as he hand slipped down further to cup her breast and run his thumb across her nipple. She arched into his hand, her breath coming faster.

Laying her down, he was just about to bring his mouth to her again, when with a sudden gust of wind, the rain came. In a minute, the two lovers were soaked.

Aragorn sat up, his hair dripping into Arwen's face: her lips bruised and rosy from kissing, her eyes sparkling. How could he resist? He kissed her again and stood up, pulling her with him. "I'm afraid we will have to wait for another time, my love!"

Arwen threw back her hair and laughed. Aragorn gently adjusted her dress, placing on last kiss on her breast before covering it again. They then rushed about pulling together their picnic things and running, got mounted in record time. Soon the glade was behind them, hidden by a spur of rock. But both of them would not forget this day.

And for more than one reason.

Because of the runoff and small mudslides the storm flung across their path, it took them longer than expected to get back.

But they were young and love and the rain was a mere inconvenience.

It was deep twilight when they rode into the stables, and though Aragorn was slightly numb from the cold spring rain, his heart was light. He dismounted stiffly and helped a smiling Arwen down with a swift kiss. As they led their horses into the warm stables, Cerwal the Horsemaster looked at the two of them worried and said, taking their reins, "Have either of you seen Lord Elrond?"

"He went to check the main weir just as we were leaving for our picnic."

"Calador returned over an hour ago, saying Elrond was right behind him, coming---"

Aragorn, swiftly remounted, all tiredness and cold forgotten. "Throw me that rope Cerwal!" Cerwal unhooked a coil of rope nearby and threw it to Aragorn.

"Arwen, go find Glorfindel! We need a search party mounted right away!"

Thin-lipped, Arwen nodded and ran across the courtyard to the House. Aragorn yanked on his horse's reins, and galloped out of the stables.

The rain, though still falling, had let up some and Aragorn was able to make out the turning for the riverside path that would lead to the main weir.

Slowing the horse down, he took it in a smart trot as he peered into the foaming Bruinen and along the banks looking for Elrond's stallion Rhean or any sign of the elf lord.

Walking the horse, he finally dismounted and leaving the reins dangling, he peered in the lowering gloom looking for anything that might show him where Elrond was.

There!!! By the Valar!! Elrond was in the river, up against the weir, which had pulled half way off into the Bruinen.

"ADA!" Aragorn bellowed over the sound the river noise. "ADA! I'm coming! Hang on!!!"

Tying a one end of the rope to a willow leaning far over the water, Aragorn tied the other end around his waist and taking a deep breath, dove into the raging waters of the Bruinen.

 

Didn't want you hanging too long with this.I don't know, I may not be able to avoid seriousness eventually....as we all know how Elrond really felt about Aragorn and Arwen...but I shall see







The icy water hit Aragorn like a slap and he swam against the foaming current gasping. Fighting the river, it took him almost 20 minutes to reach Elrond. With a cry of horror, Aragorn saw that Elrond was unconscious, a bad gash on his forehead.

Luckily Elrond had not been pulled downstream, as his jerkin had gotten snagged by the broken staves of the weir, and he had been wedged by the buffeting of the river.

Pushing against the weir himself, gave Aragorn enough time to untangle the elf lord from the broken weir and fling him over his shoulder. Situating himself carefully and using the force of the water to hold him in place, Aragorn untied the rope around his waist and retied it around Elrond and himself.

Taking a deep breath, he plunged back into the river.

The force of the water pulled him to the limits of the rope and clutching his father with one arm, he tried to make headway towards the shore. Dunked constantly by the roiling Bruinen, he fought blinding waves and worked hard to not swallow too much water.

As he struggled, Glorfindel rode up with four other elves and Arwen, who immediately uncoiled ropes and flung them to Aragorn.

Grabbing what he could reach, he held on tightly as the five elves pulled him towards shore. Wincing as he banged against hidden rocks, he grimly held on until he found himself pulled onto the shore. Arwen was there tears in her eyes, as she helped untie Elrond and lay him on the shore.

"Ada! Can you hear me?"

"Arwen, Arwen love." Aragorn coughed out some water. "He-he's had a knock to the head. Let us get him back to the House.."

Aragorn lay there gasping as the others lifted Elrond, giving him to Glorfindel, who dashed off in full gallop.

Arwen, about to remount, turned and helped the shivering Aragorn stand. Putting her arms around him, he hugged her back. She looked up at him and he kissed her, brushing wet hair out of her eyes. "Do not worry my love, he'll be fine."

Nodding, she kissed him again, heedless of the eyes of the other elves and whispered, "Thank you Aragorn. Thank you!" She pulled out of his embrace and remounted her horse. With a wave back to him, she dashed after Glorfindel.

Aragorn tiredly pulled himself into the saddle and rode off after the other elves, now numb with cold.

He was the last to ride into the stables, dizzy with exhaustion. Cerwal silently took his equally tired horse and Aragorn, with the last of his energy, sprinted for the House.

Before he changed, he went to Elrond's suite of rooms.

There was a crowd of elves around the double doors, which parted silently for Aragorn, a few, placing hands on his shoulders silently. He smiled at their worried faces, entered and closed the door softly behind him.

Glorfindel had just finished undressing Elrond with Arwen's help and then backed away to let the healer Isingal carefully examine the unconscious elf lord. Aragorn watched silently, waiting for the diagnosis.

"My lords, and lady, he has a concussion and will likely sleep until tomorrow. The wound on his forehead is superficial. I can find no other signs of trauma: no broken bones or ligaments. He will probably have a few bruises."

A deep sigh went around the room. Isingal carefully salved and bandaged the cut. Glorfindel then wrapped up Elrond in a soft, thick quilt and stepped away. Arwen bent and kissed her father on the forehead. Turning, she grabbed a nearby chair and looked at the others. "I shall sit here until he awakes."

"But, my lady, that might be awhile." Isingal exclaimed.

"Nevertheless, I shall."

Glorfindel and Isingal nodded and bowing slightly, left the room, Glorfindel only pausing to say to Aragorn, "Thank you Estel for your quick work."

Nodding tiredly, Aragorn clapped him on the back "And thank you for your speedy aid!"

The two elves left.

The fire in the grate crackling to itself was the only sound for sometime, other than an occasional drip of water from Aragorn's soggy clothes. Weaving on his feet, Aragorn was just about to leave, when Arwen said in a small voice, "Oh, don't go!"

Coming over to her, he put a hand on her shoulder, which she covered with one of her own.

He stared down into the peaceful face of his foster-father and sighed. The bandage was so ugly and unexpected against his pale and beautiful features, that Aragorn found tears pricking his eyes. Bending to kiss his father, he stood and turned to Arwen, picking up her hand on the coverlet and giving it a squeeze. "I must get out of these clothes. I shall return in a little while."

Her eyes never leaving her father's face, Arwen just nodded and he left.

Thankfully, the hall outside was empty and Aragorn was able to stumble to his room unhindered.

But the hot bath had felt so good, that as he dressed, he had fallen across his bed asleep.

His room was dark when he awoke, with head pounding. Adjusting his long deep blue robe, Aragorn, quickly threw cold water on his face to wake up more fully and then went to Elrond's rooms.

Opening the door quietly, he found Arwen asleep, half in her chair, half on the bed, holding her father's hand, her river of dark hair practically covering her face. The room was lit only by a slowly burning candle on Arwen's side of the bed and the low glow from the fireplace.

Smiling, he came up to her, brushed her hair back and kissed her cheek. Seeing there was room enough for Arwen, he picked her up carefully and laid her next to her father. Sighing, she curled up, head to Elrond's shoulder. He slipped her shoes off and pulled another quilt out of the linen chest at the end of the bed and placed it over her. Then throwing a few more logs on the glowing coals, he built up the fire.

The slow steady rhythm of his father's pulse comforted him, so he went, sat in Arwen's chair and lay his head back against the high back, his gaze on the two elves, lit by the large candle.

What would Elrond think of he and Arwen's love? Would he be upset? Her immortality and his mortality: would these be insurmountable obstacles? He had never thought about it, but might there be an arranged marriage between Arwen and someone? But who? She had not mentioned any, nor had he heard his father discuss it. Sighing, he leaned forward, elbows on thighs, hands clasped before him. Maybe Elrond would not think him worthy, because he was mortal? But someday, if all went right, he would be king of a united Gondor and Arnor. Surely this would be worthwhile in his father's eyes?

Rubbing his hand across his forehead and wincing at the headache pounding behind his eyes, he leaned back again in the chair. Well, these things could not be answered now.

But it was long time before sleep came.



Morning sunlight slid into the room, running on golden feet across the three sleepers. Arwen still lay next to Elrond and Aragorn was slumped in the chair, mouth slightly open, long hair half way across his face.

Elrond woke first, squinting at the shaft of bright gold across his waist. He brought a hand up to his head and winced at the rapidly healing gash. Then his eyes fell on his daughter, curled at his side. Moving very carefully, he bent and kissed her, running a hand across her cheek. She sighed and smiled in her sleep.

Then Elrond's glance fell on Estel, sitting uncomfortably in the high backed chair. His eyes softened at his foster son. But then a little thought nibbled at Elrond's complacency: Why was Estel in here as well as Arwen? Surely his injuries were not that grievous? Moving and stretching slowly, Elrond found nothing worse than a few bruises, one rather nasty one on his left side. No broken bones, no internal injuries, just the concussion that had rendered him unconscious, and the nasty gash.

He looked at the two sleepers, tilting his head in question. Perhaps there was something else going on here? He had noticed their affection recently but just assumed it was a natural response to having "discovered" each other after all this time. Estel was a nice looking young man for a human and was filling out well. There could---

Just then, Aragorn groaned in his sleep and Elrond deciding quickly to watch the two unguarded, slipped down under his quilt and feigned sleep. His left his eyes half open so Aragorn would think he was now sleeping normally.

Aragorn stretched and coughed, running a hand across his forehead. Oh good, a cold! Rubbing his stuffed nose a few times, he got out of the chair and looked at the two sleeping elves. Elrond was at last sleeping normally, which meant he might waken soon as he was ever the early riser.

And Arwen. He paused, smiling fondly and brushed her tangled hair across her face. He bent and kissed her cheek.

Arwen awoke with that, happy to find the face of her beloved leaning over her. Raising a hand, she sat and brought her mouth up to Aragorn's and kissed him deeply. Everything was going to be fine now---

Elrond believed he had seen enough. "Good morning my children."

Arwen and Aragorn sprang apart, Aragorn going so far as to hit the chair and drop ungracefully to the floor. Scrambling to stand, he brushed his hair out of his face and bowed slightly, feeling himself blushing. Damn! "Ada! It is good to see you awake!!"

"Father! You are all right! How do you feel?" Arwen turned to Elrond and kissed him on the cheek. He almost pulled away, but stopped himself and kissed her back. What in the name of all the Valar was going on here??

Arwen stood quickly next to Aragorn, eyes wide, a big smile pasted on her face. Oh dear, does Ada know now?

Aragorn, nervous, got a coughing fit and turned away slightly. Oh no, if Ada had had any suspicions previously, there would be no doubt now.

Elrond sat up with a deep sigh. "If you will allow me a few moments, I will wash up and get dressed.

"Surely Ada, you should stay in bed this day. Just to make sure you are completely recovered. That's a bad cut on your forehead," Arwen rushed to his side, reaching out with a hand to stay his rising.

Elrond almost allowed himself to grin, but knowing that they were actually concerned for his well being, sat against the head board. "All right both of you. I shall remain in bed until this evening. Estel, if you would be so kind as to get me a sleeping tunic?"

"Certainly Ada."

"Arwen, if you would go find me something light to eat in the kitchens?"

"Right away Ada!" Arwen disappeared like a sprite.

As Aragorn handed his father the tunic, he bit his lip and said. "Do you require anything else from me?"

Elrond paused as he put on the tunic. Adjusting it and making himself comfortable, he let the silence draw out to a thin thread and finally replied dryly, "At the moment, nothing else Estel."

He looked deep into his son's eyes. "But perhaps, later."

"Yes Ada." Aragorn had no doubts as to "later." He bowed and nervously went to the door.

Before he left, Elrond added, "And please, take some willow bark tea for that cold Estel."

"Yes-ACHooo!---of course father!"

He practically ran out of the door.

Elrond leaned back and stared sightless at the door. Yawning, he slid back under the covers. He had much thinking to do.

 

The afternoon was deepening into evening.

Elrond sat up against the backboard of his bed, a few pillows behind him. Though he had promised to stay put, he hadn't promised to stop working, and his quilt was covered with pieces of parchment as he was going through a monthly tally of Household supplies.

But his eyes were not on the elegant columns and comments written in Erestor's hand. He dropped the parchment and pinched the bridge of his nose.

For the hundredth time this day, he thought: What was happening with his two children?

Were they in love.no wait. That was a foolish question: They were. And if he was any judge of the Elvish heart, Arwen was deeply in love with Aragorn. And it appeared he was as well. How could this have happened? How could either of them allowed their feelings to overcome them like this? Arwen's immortality and Aragorn's oh too brief life, how could such disparity allow them to pursue such a love?

His eyes stared sightless out into his room.

Unbidden and rarely seen, tears filled his eyes as the loves of his life paraded through his mind's eye: his beloved Elros, Gil-Galad.and by the Valar, oh the steady flame in his heart, that no wind of time could extinguish, his Celebrian gone these many, many years. His head drooped and more tears dropped onto the quilt, one splashed on the parchment held loosely in his hand, blurring the number of candles on hand. They had all left him. And now Arwen.and Aragorn?

Oh, he felt.old. He hadn't felt this old in a millennium. Though elves never got the aged grey and silver hairs of their human counterparts, Elrond felt if it were possible, his hair would be streaked with white like a badger's!

Taking a deep breath, he wiped the tears away and stared at the slightly ruined parchment. Erestor would be able to tell him quickly what had been blotted out.

He brought a hand up to his still swathed forehead. Perhaps, the head wound just made him uneasy and melancholy. He had so rarely been injured in his long life and the inactivity rankled.

But he knew he would have to talk to them, especially Arwen. Humans, by their very nature tended to be a bit more flighty in affairs of the heart. And Aragorn, even by human standards, was still young. And he had not seen that much of the world. Perhaps it would be a good thing for him to visit Minas Tirith for awhile and see and taste life in a bigger context.

Ah, but if Arwen's heart was committed.

Gathering up the leaves of parchment and the eagle quill laying on one of the account books, he put them aside on the bedside table. Picking up the goblet of medicine that Isingal had mixed for him in case any of his pains got worse, he downed it in one gulp, making a sour face at the end.

Then he smiled slightly as he put the goblet down and blew out the candles. Physician, heal thyself!

Adjusting the pillows, Elrond lay down and eventually fell asleep.

But his dreams were not restful.



Elrond awoke to candles burning on either side of his bed and the wonderful smell of food laid out on the small table beneath the northern window.

Bringing a hand to his head, he sat up slowly and assessed himself clinically. The bad bruise on his side was turning yellow on the edges, which was good. The gash on his forehead was already dry and tight. That was also good and the bandage itself could come off tomorrow. Swinging his legs out of bed, he stood slowly and carefully and was greeted only by a little vertigo.

Sighing, satisfied with his condition, he went and sat at the table and ate the thick soup, rolls and fruit with a good appetite, accompanied by two glasses of white wine.

Putting his napkin down, he went and freshened up, changing into a pale amber robe with small gold braid down the split in front. Finished putting on his trews and boots, he stretched and left his suite.

He needed to find the two lovers.

Aragorn lay with his head in Arwen's lap, as they sat on a bench, high up behind the House, overlooking a pond that was graced with a pair of mated white swans, trailed at the moment by four cygnets. The stars wavered their wake as the two relaxed, just enjoy each other's company.

Aragorn sneezed and brought out his handkerchief and wiped his nose. "I am sorry Arwen. Having a cold isn't very pleasant."

She ran her hands through his hair and smiled down at him, kissing him on his slightly red nose. "That's all right my love, you know elves don't get sick."

"I wish humans didn't!"

She rubbed his forehead softly, rhythmically which relaxed him. He sighed and closed his eyes. Arwen bent and kissed him again, and he raised his hand, holding her head to him.

So wrapped in their kiss, with Arwen's curtain of hair adding to their privacy, that neither of them noticed the approach of their father. He paused and watched them, his heart sinking. His inadvertent sigh was loud enough to startle the lovers and Aragorn instantly sat up and banged his nose into Arwen's chin.

The two sprang away embarrassed, both rubbing their offended faces, their eyes dropping to the ground.

Elrond stood before them, a slight mountain breeze waving tendrils of his hair across his face. At first frowning at their bowed heads, his natural compassion overrode his displeasure and he felt sorry for them, especially Arwen. This was going to be so hard!

"Good evening, my children."

They looked up, Arwen slightly mutinously. Aragorn said hastily, "Ada, how do you feel? How is your head?"

"I am mending fine, thank you Estel." He looked down into the anxious face of his son. "Glorfindel tells me I have you to thank for my rescue," He bent forward then and kissed a surprised Aragorn on the forehead, running a hand down his cheek. "Thank you my son for your quick action."

Inordinately pleased, Aragorn felt himself blush. "You are welcome Ada." He looked up, relieved to see his father's customary look of slight amusement. "What happened at the river?"

"Rhean was startled by a bolt of lightning hitting nearby just as I dismounted and he sprang sidewise, knocking me into the river. He was able to swim to the other side, and I, I got tangled in a branch rushing by, which slammed me into the weir, hitting me on the head as it went downstream. The next thing I knew, I awoke in my bed." He looked out at the still pond, the swans having swum out of sight. "It was an extraordinary experience, to be sure."

Silence fell between the three like a rock from a catapult. Before the silence got strained, Aragorn sneezed and was grateful for the handkerchief to hide his uneasiness. Ada was going to lecture them, he just knew it.

"Estel, I need to talk to Arwen, alone." Aragorn nodded and slowly got up and then feeling defiant, bent and kissed Arwen as she looked up at him. He whispered, "Courage!" and strode off. Elrond smiling said to his retreating back. "See me in an hour Estel, in my chambers."

"Yes Ada." Aragorn turned and nodded. He was soon lost to sight down the hill.

"I know what you are going to say father, and I just want---"

"You have no idea what I am going to say, my Undomiel."

Arwen fell quiet at that, looking up at her father and biting her lip. He let the silence drag out this time until she said, falteringly, "I-I am sorry, Ada."

"Arwen, come here." She stood and he swept her in an embrace and she returned it with strength. Pulling her away, he looked down into her eyes, his bright with starlight. "Never doubt I love you, princess. When I see you smile, I see your mother. I miss her so much." He turned to look out at the pond again. "I am selfish Arwen. I do not want you to be unhappy. As may well be the case with Estel."

He turned suddenly, his robe swirling about his boots. "He is mortal my daughter!! How can that not affect your thinking here?"

"It does affect my thinking Ada.but I love him nevertheless. I am sorry." Arwen's head drooped.

Elrond came up to her and tilting her back up with a finger, he looked into his daughter's eyes swimming with tears. "Oh my Undomiel, it has gone this far, has it?"

She nodded, looking for a spark of Ada's usual compassion, but all she found was sorrow.

Swallowing, she stepped away from him and looked out over the still water, clasping her hands.

"I remember one night, when I was very young and my mare Ballanaria died, you were trying to console me. And I remember you whispering in my hair, "I would do anything to spare you from the sufferings of the mortal world, but I cannot."

She turned and straightened with a sigh. "As you said father, you cannot save me from the pains and sorrows of the mortal world. And I would not have it so. I love Aragorn."

Biting her lip, she swept past her father and went back down to the house, her legs trembling and her heart breaking.

Elrond, about to call her back, dropped his hand and bowed his head. The wind swept fallen flowers around his booted feet, as he slowly made his way back to the house, feeling the weight of his years.

Aragorn paced his father's study, occasionally wiping his nose. What would Ada do? Would he banish him from Rivendell forever? Never to see Arwen again? With that horrible thought, Aragorn sat down in the chair before his father's table and leaned his head in his hands. This was a nightmare! He looked up suddenly, wildy taking in the comforting décor of this oh so familiar room. That's it! He must still be sick and this was just a nasty hallucination.

But leaning back, he knew it was not. He was not sick enough to have hallucinations. He briefly considered going into Elrond's still room and concocting something..Shaking his head at his own foolishness, he stood and resumed pacing. He could not give up Arwen! He loved her!

Looking at his reflection in the northern window, Aragorn paused. Of course, Ada just did not think he was worthy of Arwen. No man measured up to a father's expectations---especially this father!

Sneezing, he wiped his nose again and ran a hand across his forehead. What a mess. He briefly wondered what Arwen's mother would think of this situation. With a sigh he sat down again, suddenly tired. Well, he would never know, as humankind did not go over the Western Sea. And that thought brought tears to his eyes: one day, his beloved would go and leave him for the West.

Elrond had stood in the partial opened doorway, watching his son's face for several minutes, steeling himself against wielding compassion and comfort.

"Estel."

Aragorn jumped up, almost knocking the chair behind him over on the carpet. "Father. I-I am sorry! But we love each other and---"

"I am aware of your feelings...now." Elrond, needing distance, slipped behind his table and sat back, his face unreadable and still.

"Father, we did not plan this. It just happened." Aragorn, desperate, leaned his hands on the table in front of Elrond. "We both love each other, come what may. It, it is not just some perverse whim." He turned and strode across the room needing to step away from the potent aura of his father. Staring at his harried reflection once more, he said quietly, "She is everything to me."

"And what then, is she to me, Estel? I have lost my brother, my king and my beloved wife.and now you ask me to let you and Arwen go as well! Son, she is immortal and your years are numbered! There is no way to change that. You will only have a few years together, as time is reckoned among the Eldar. Can you not set her free from this painful doom?"

Aragorn whirled around, shocked to his soul to hear the desperation and pleading in his father's voice, and he almost capitulated.

"If I cannot set myself, my heart free from this doom, how can she, if she truly loves me. If this was Celebrian, father, what then? Would you have given her up if Celeborn had demanded it? All sorrows, and all joys pass eventually, even for the Eldar. We just want our chance at the happiness we know we can share and make grow. For however short a time." He turned to face the window again.

Elrond had said nothing. His soul felt as if it was within the grasp of an ice giant, and slowly being squeezed into painful immobility. Oh my children, you know not what you do!! How will this end?

And then, Aragorn sneezed several times.

Elrond rose from his chair, his heart breaking inside, but outwardly calm, now. It was easier to be a healer than a father right now. Stepping behind his son, he put a hand on his shoulder and said quietly, "Come, sit and I will make you a tisane so you can breath easier and sleep."

Aragorn, nose and eyes red, turned with a sharp intake of breath and stopped, reading his father's soul, writ large in his eyes. His Ada was there, warm and compassionate. But, but there was also a sliver of sharpness, of pain glimmering there from the long-lived Lord of Imladris. And Aragorn realized then, it would never go away.

And that he and Arwen had put it there.

Uncertain, he wanted to step around Elrond and leave him. But the hand on his shoulder squeezed ever so slightly, telling him to stay. Nodding in answer to the unspoken request, he went and sat in the chair before his father's table.

"Thank you Ada. A tisane is just what I need."

 

The next morning, Aragorn lay looking at the wooden crossbeams of his bedroom ceiling, watching them become more distinct as the sun rose, torn between languishing in bed and nursing his cold, thus avoiding any confrontation or getting up and confronting Arwen and Elrond anyhow.

Sneezing as he sat up, Aragorn rubbed his head, which felt stuffed up and achey. Elrond's tisane had worked well through the night, but it was time for another one.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, Aragorn put his head in his hands, recalling his real problem. What were he and Arwen going to do? How could they hurt the one who had loved and raised them both and live with themselves? More importantly, how could they stop the pain and get him to understand?

Sighing, he flopped back on the mattress. Too much thinking at this hour of the morning made his already painful head worse.

The door opened and Aragorn sat up quickly, grimacing, praying it would not be Elrond.

Arwen slipped next to him on the bed and kissed him on the cheek. He turned and silently held her, his heart normally glad to see her, now heavy thinking about last night.

He kissed her forehead and stood. "Arwen what are we going to do? Ada is very hurt by all this....but I love you!" He brought a hand up to his forehead, "And my head hurts."

"Poor love." She kissed him again and went to his window overlooking a cascade of terraced lawns. "Ada will come to understand Aragorn. He was in love once himself, and still is." She turned to him. "Come, get dressed and meet me in the main dinning hall." Wrapping her arms around him she lay her head on his chest for a moment. The she pulled away with a wry look. "You are congested Aragorn, I can hear it in your breathing. Ada will not take your head off, you best go see him."

Aragorn nodded slowly and turned to get dressed, Arwen slipping out the door.

Aragorn went straight to the dining hall, deciding a meeting with his father would go better on a full stomach.

The hall was less than half full when Aragorn joined Arwen at the high table. Elrond thankfully was not present and had probably eaten earlier in his rooms, as was his want.

But looking at his breakfast, Aragorn was not hungry and pushed it away, only drinking a large goblet of fruit juice. Arwen frowned at him saying. "My love you need to eat something! You cannot confront Ada on an empty stomach! Besides, you must get rid of the cold. Did you not tell me you had messages to take to Mirkwood soon?"

"Yes I do." He sneezed again and brought out his handkerchief. "I need to leave in a week if I am to meet up with two rangers outside of Rhosgobel." He sneezed again and rose for the table. "Arwen love," he bent over and kissed her, his eyes softening, "everything will be all right. I swear it." He brought a hand up and ran it down her cheek. Pushing his chair back, he turned and almost ran down Elrond, who was just stepping behind him to go to his customary chair.

Elrond grabbed Aragorn by the arm and looked at him for a moment and then said dryly, "Estel, it is my educated opinion as a healer, you need to take to your bed and sleep off this cold."

Aragorn, about to argue, was stopped by Elrond's raised hand and the look on his father's face. "As your father, I am many millennia your elder and worthy of respect. Humor me: Do as I ask." He was slightly smiling, one eyebrow raised.

Aragorn sneezed so hard, it made his head hurt. He nodded silently and went past his father wiping his nose. Elrond looked at the drooping back of his son and shook his head with a slight smile. He went and sat next to his daughter, who had half risen from her seat, mouth slightly open at their interchange. Her father put a finger under her chin and pushed up slightly, closing her mouth.

Elrond sat down and was immediately served, waving away the ewer of fruit juice and settling for tea. "Good morning Arwen. I trust you slept well?" Arwen immediately swiveled to face the remains of her breakfast, hastily picking up her goblet and nodding into its depths.

Elrond smiled as he picked up his fork and speared a piece of cut up fruit. He continued to eat and make small talk until his meal was finished. Arwen sat before her empty plate and looked out into the dining hall, untenanted except by the elves clearing the tables and laying clean linens.

When Elrond put down his napkin he turned to look at his daughter, who studiously avoided his gaze and a small shadow of sorrow crossed his face.

"Do not freeze me out with cold silence my love. If I must, I can wait a long time. I have had much practice."

Arwen turned at that, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Father, oh father, do not hate me... us!" she covered her face with a hand, bowing her head. Scraping his chair back, he waved away the elf behind him and went to his daughter, pulled her to her feet and wrapped her in a strong, unbreakable hug. "I will never ever hate you my Undomiel. Not when the world stops and the stars fall from the skies. I love you, who are so much a part of my soul." He pulled her away from her to look at her, his grey eyes dark and warm. "I do not hate Estel, either." He pulled her to him again. "I just wish things had fallen out differently is all. As would any father when confronted with such a situation."

About to defend Aragorn, Arwen found her head pressed to her father's chest, his hand slowly stroking her hair, his strong heart beating under one ear. She closed her eyes and gulped convulsively and put her arms around her father's waist. "Oh Ada!" And she let herself cry at last, and her father closed his eyes in pain, letting the storm blow itself out against his strength. A strength he had built pain by pain over his long life.

When her cries had settled into intermittent hiccups, Elrond straightened her, and putting her arm around her waist led her out of the dining hall and to her room. "Take a moment to freshen up my love. I shall be with Estel, who I imagine will be as stubborn about his cold as he was when he was five."

She laughed unevenly. "He always hated being sick!

"And well I know it!" Elrond turned and went to his still room and blended up a stronger tisane for Aragorn.

As he brought the tea with him, he smiled as he paused outside Aragorn's room. Perhaps some of this was just malingering and avoidance. But he shook his head, Aragorn did not usually do either, dodge responsibility nor let situations hang unresolved.

But, this was love, so anything was possible.

Knocking briskly, he went in and found Aragorn just sitting on the edge of the bed, hands hanging between his knees, looking completely unfocused.

Sighing, Elrond could see his son was really miserable and not malingering. Setting the tea aside, he touched Aragorn briefly on the shoulder and his son looked up at him smiling crookedly.

"Stand up Estel, let me help you undress."

A small bit of pride stirred in Aragorn and not about to be treated as a child, he stood up, weaving slowly and carefully unbuttoned his long tunic and pulled it off awkwardly, getting one arm inexplicably stuck. Elrond silently helped him straighten out.

While Aragorn stood there, Elrond slipped behind him and pulled down the blankets. Pushing the un-resistant man down, he swung his legs onto the bed and pulled off his soft boots. Flinging the blanket over him, he moved the pillows around so Aragorn could sleep slightly propped up. He then brought him the tea, which he drank with no fuss. Elrond, enjoyed being the father/healer at the moment as how many more chances would he have to care for Aragorn? Brushing the slightly damp hair off his son's forehead, he smiled down at his tired face.

"Sleep Estel. Do not let worry trouble your dreams. I love you my wayward Dunadan."

With a yawn, Aragorn's eyes shut and he slept.

With one last fond look, he went back to Arwen's room.

He found his daughter out on the terrace outside her bedroom, sitting in a chair, feet pulled up and head on knees, turned away from his approach.

Elrond stood behind her, looking at the view her terrace provided. A garden of ferns and flowering vines was immediately below, as one adventuresome creeper twined around the stone balustrade the edged the tiled area. The creeper was covered in purple blooms that gave off a slightly sweet scent.

Picking a flower he brought it over to her, she had uncurled and was sitting, watching him, and dropped it her lap.

"What are its uses?"

"Makes a good expectorant, helps with congestion, blends well with several other herbs, especially asphodel, merrinith and gafanal. It would be good for Aragorn's cold."

"So my lessons were not forgotten."

"No, Ada. Elladan has always just been more zealous than Elrohir and I. Actually," she looked down at the flower twirling in her fingers, "I always envied the twins roaming with the Rangers. That is why I practiced forever sword and archery."

"And you are quite accomplished in that area as well."

Arwen stood and went to the balustrade, tearing at the leaves of the vine curling under her hands. "But you are not here to discuss my talents are you Adar." She turned, leaning back on both hands and staring at her father evenly, "Unless it is my current talent for hurting you."

Elrond stepped forward, a hand held out placatingly. She waved it away and said, "No, no do not forgive me! Aragorn and I have hurt you! Admit it! Raise your voice and show us your anger!" Stepping forward she peered at her father's smooth expression. "Do not just forgive us!"

"What would you have me do Arwen? Cast both of you from my heart?" He turned, facing into her suite. "Do you not understand Arwen? If you marry Aragorn, you will be giving up your immortality? You will never go West? Never see your mother again? Or any of the other members of your family? Your love is not just a matter between you and Aragorn, it has long reaching implications. Especially if he becomes King."

Elrond sighed heavily, his gray-green robe rustling as he turned to face her once more.

"I can only tell you what is in my heart and mind my love. I cannot dictate to you your choice, especially in matters of the heart. But I tell you now, Aragorn must be King of Gondor before he marries you....I would not have you give up your immortality to become the grieving widow of a Ranger and possibly a mother, after having only a year of Aragorn's love because he got killed in some orc raid or got thrown from a spooked horse while carrying messages between here and Mirkwood."

Elrond turned away again. "Besides, you deserve a King. I did not raise you to be a hedgerow wife. And he needs to prove to me, he is worthy of your hand. And that is the father in me speaking."

He made to leave, and paused by the open doors leading into her rooms.

But he had said enough. For now.

Arwen could not hear the door close as he left.

Elrond rubbed a hand across his forehead as he made his slow way to his study.

As he came upon Aragorn's room, he paused and went in.

His son was sleeping, mouth open, breathing heavily. Elrond came up to him and a lay a hand gently on his chest. It was congested, but not dangerously so. His hand moved to his forehead, where he was gratified to feel his fever was abating.

Stepping away from his son, he stood at the foot of the bed thinking, "How the storm swirls around you Estel! You did not ask to be born as the Heir of Isildur! You did not know that at age two, you would enter Rivendell and all our lives. And you did not know that you would break my oft-repaired heart when you met my Undomiel. The world is darker and the need for stealth and bravery grows. This may indeed, be your hour."

Sighing, the Lord of Imladris left quietly and continued on to his study. Going to a nearby cabinet, he pulled out a particularly well-aged bottle of apricot mead and filled a goblet.

The glass quickly emptied as he sought uncharacteristically to blunt his pain and he poured another. This he took with him to the large mullioned window and stared out over the grounds of Rivendell. His home. His refuge.

And like so many homes: The chicks were fleeing the nest.

He grinned ruefully at his analogy and at his reflection in the glass. Was it time to find a hobby? And settle into obscurity before the call of the sea became too great? Even Elladan and Elrohir were here so infrequently.

No, no, not quite yet. The world was still unsettled. Still needed help. Mankind had still not gained their ascendancy, as they should. The next Age would be theirs.

There was still no united kingdom and still, no King of Gondor. Yet.

That evening, Elrond stood with Aragorn, each sipping mead and wrapped in their silence, watching the sunset laying its peaceful light softly across Rivendell.

Finally, uncomfortable with the prolonged silence, the elf lord said quietly, "Come, put your glass down. Speak to me."

Aragorn did as he asked, setting the silver goblet on the stone railing beneath his hand.

Elrond turned to his son memorizing his thoughtful face with down-turned eyes, the evening light warming it gently.

He brought a hand up. "Estel, please."

Aragorn turned away from his father's hand and looked off to the side.

"If you do not think I am worthy of Arwen, refuse us. But to declare me exile.!"

"I do this because I must Estel! Exile will focus your attention on your destiny. You will either thrive on the danger inherent in these times, especially for a Ranger, knowing you cannot fall back on aid from me---or you will fail and fade into obscurity. Only in the direst of circumstances may you return. Or if I bid you."

Elrond looked off over the balcony again. "Events are moving swiftly toward the Dark again, Estel and Middle Earth will need all her sons and daughters to defend her."

"What of Arwen?" Aragorn could not resist asking in a low voice.

"Arwen will go reside in Lothlorien, as has been her want since her mother departed over the sea." He took his son by the arm, making him look at him. "And do not think to visit her there, Estel, again, unless your life is in danger, you will not pass into Caras Galadhon."

Aragorn nodded, knowing it was true. He sighed, shoulders slumping.

Silence stretched into minutes, the only sound disturbing the two was a water bird skirling its cry through the air as it settled near the river.

Aragorn turned to his father. The sun highlighted his deep brown hair and sparkled in his eyes.

Wait. He peered closer. Were his father's eyes glittering because of sunlight or because tears filled them?

Aragorn stepped closer.

His Ada.standing here, always helping, healing, giving advice---- surrounded by his mantle of years and wisdom---alone.

Seeing that Elrond had placed his goblet on the stone railing beneath his hand, Aragorn swallowed the sudden surge of pain in his heart and went and wrapped his arms around his father's tall unbending form, hugging him tight, not saying anything. His thoughts about he and Arwen stilled into nothingness. All he could feel now was his father's pain and loneliness.

Elrond returned his hug with alacrity, pulling Aragorn's head to his shoulder and running a hand slowly down his hair.

Aragorn heard the slight hitching of his father's breath and closed his eyes in sorrow.

He suddenly pulled out of the embrace and stared into his father's dark gray eyes, suspiciously moist, and putting his hands on Elrond's face, tilted him forward to place a kiss on his brow.

Turning silently, lest his voice betray him, Aragorn went into the house.

A week had gone by and the emotional currents had gone deep, though on the surface now, all was outwardly normal.

Aragorn's cold had cleared up and he was ready to travel with the Rangers.

He stood in the early morning light, in the stable courtyard, checking the girth on his horse one last time.

One last time.

The thought echoed through his mind and he looked up at the roof line of the Last Homely House, the sun throwing sharp shadows from turrets and other roof line elements. Vines and creepers and hoary old trees softened the angles of the centuries old refuge. So many memories permeated the walls and ran laughing through the gardens. So many.

He leaned on his horse's saddle, swallowing a sob. When, if ever would he see this again?

His father! When? And his beloved Arwen...how?

Slapping his stallion on the flank, he went around the horse and saw Elrond and Arwen framed in the courtyard archway. They silently came across the smooth stones, both of their faces grave.

Elrond came forward, while Arwen held back. The elf lord looked far into his son's soul. Saw the uncertainty, the love and ultimately the resolution to move forward.

Perhaps Gondor would find its king, its very soul, in this man.

Approaching Aragorn, he pulled him into one last hug and kissed him on the forehead.

"Go with my love Estel. Safe journey."

"Thank you Ada, for everything." He kissed his father on the cheek as he hugged him back, feeling words were inadequate. "I love you." His eyes slid from his father's after a moment and looked over his shoulder at Arwen's slight form.

Elrond stepped away and moved off.

Arwen ran to Aragorn and flung herself into his arms.

"Oh my beloved, always, always in my heart! I will wait forever."

"As I will count the days my love." The two kissed long and deeply, heedless of their father's watching.

Finally, Aragorn pulled away and without looking at either of them, mounted his horse and spurred him past the watching elves, out the gate and into the annals of history.



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Well, this is the end of this particular story...and it is more angsty than I had envisioned.......I just couldn't see where to add levity because it is such a serious issue for all. Hope you enjoyed the tale anyway!