Chapter 1 - Sun Star

Sam looked up from the rose bush he had been tending, a child's delighted laugh caught his ear and a few well-chosen words soon followed. He smiled and returned to the much-needed pruning. March, it was actually a little late in the year to be pruning but what with his traversing the Shire checking upon his re-sown trees and the new responsibilities as a husband and father he barely had time for his beloved gardening. But, the garden seemed to give Mr. Frodo such joy and if only for that reason Sam had made the time to tend it. Thoughts of Frodo turned to worry as they so often did these days. Sam shivered as an unbidden memory passed through him. An unwelcome anniversary had just been marked and Frodo hadn't weathered it particularly well.

Another peal of childish laughter shook Sam from his uneasy ponderings. He threw a glance behind him and was rewarded with the sight of his baby daughter nimbly clambering through the tall grass, half a jam tart secured in her tiny hand and the other half properly stored on her pinafore and mouth. Chasing her was a rather harried-looking hobbit nurse, "You'd best get back here, little miss before you make a mess of your lovely new pinafore brought over by Gammer Cotton." Sam thought amusedly well if that's not a case of "Katie, bar the door, the horses have gotten loose!" I don't know what is! His little daughter, uniquely stored jam tart not withstanding, with her curls and fair face was the picture of the golden flowers that grew in Lothlorien for which she was named. Elanor, tiny, golden and beautiful. Sam stopped what he was doing and in three long strides had scooped up his little girl saying "I'm going to get you!" and promptly blew a raspberry on the toddler's stomach eliciting a squeal of joy from the child. He turned to the rather harried-looking nurse, and said "It's OK, Poppy, I'll take the little rascal in and make sure she's presentable for company." The nurse turned to leave saying that she could use the time to straighten out the touchdown point of a small tornado that vaguely resembled Elanor's room.

"Well now, My little flower!" Sam said to the small squirming bundle of child in his arms "Let's see what we can do to get you all prettied up!" For company was indeed coming. They were coming to celebrate Elanor's second birthday, always reckoned to be an important one in the Hobbit way of thinking and therefore merited an extra special celebration. "Uncle Merry and Uncle Pippin will be by and Legolas should be here soon with Gimli, won't that be lovely" Elanor gurgled her assent. The whole Fellowship had agreed to come as had the Steward of Gondor and Lord and the Lady of the Golden Wood. Never had a two-year celebration commanded such an august guest list, but then again never had there been such a special two-year old, Sam thought, in a completely unbiased way. Pondering the guest list, he let forth a small sigh, for that meant that Gandalf would be arriving soon and he had a few things he wished to ask the Maia when he arrived. His thoughts bent again upon Frodo Perhaps, it is lucky that Elanor's birthday falls in the month of March! Seeing old friends again will surely gladden his heart.

***
Frodo watched Sam and little Elanor from the window of his study, a small smile playing across his face as he absently fingered the white jewel that now hung around his neck. Bag End was a noisier but happier place these days with "his little flower bud" as he liked to call Elanor rampaging around. She distracted him from other thoughts and that was always welcome, especially at this time of year. Frodo returned to his desk in an effort to continue writing, but it was no use. His temples throbbed and he was feeling an overall weariness. His recent bout with "Remembrance" as he euphemistically called it had been draining and he was having an unusually hard time recovering his customary equanimity. Perhaps the celebrations surrounding little Elanor's second birthday would help to dispel the shadows that too stubbornly refused to leave. He sighed and quit the study all together deciding that perhaps some fresh air might do him good.
Just as he closed the door to his study a bright whirl of stickiness and golden hair bundled into him begging to be picked up. He obliged with an indulgent laugh, as the jam on Elanor's hands found its way onto Frodo's face and shirt, "Well what have we here, a flower bud all ready for the honey bees! You sweet little thing! Bzzzzz!! Bzzzzz!" Delighted laughter was his reward as Frodo felt his weariness slipping away.
"I'm sorry Mr. Frodo, I was just taking little Miss Sticky here to get cleaned up." came the automatic apology from Sam, following two steps behind his little daughter.

That's quite all right, Sam" Frodo said still gazing at the child in his arms. Elanor was now looking up at her uncle with big blue eyes imitating the "Bzzzz! Bzzzz!" sounds and laughing. "That's right, my little honey bee!" Frodo laughed warmly, "let's see what we can do about this little mess you've managed to share with me!" And with that Frodo took little Elanor outside towards the little stream near the house extracting his ever-present handkerchief as he walked. Sam was about to protest, he didn't like to burden Frodo with the little jobs of child rearing, but then thought better of it. He hadn't seen Frodo this happy in weeks and decided to let the two have their little adventure.

***
The bit of woods through which the stream ran was shaking off the last of its winter coat and although there was a bit of a nip in the air on this late March day, the gentle breeze hinted at the Spring warmth yet to come instead of the cold bite of Winter. The trees were a hazy green with the first tiny leaves appearing on branches and the tall grass whispered as the breeze flowed through it. The undergrowth was soft under tiny hobbit feet as Elanor made her way through to the stream, her favoured Uncle Frodo in tow. Arriving at the babbling stream Frodo knelt and did his best to restore both of them to a state of presentableness, but that was easier said than done as Elanor, seeing the water, had other ideas about what to do with it, splashing Frodo rather efficiently for a two-year old. This continued for a bit, the two of them ending up more wet and unkempt than when they had started. Laughing, Frodo grabbed the little mischief maker and spun her around "I swear I see a little more of your Uncle Pippin in you with every passing day! You little minx!"

"And that can only be a good thing, don't you think?" said a chirpy voice from behind him.
Frodo turned around and there stood the afore-accused hobbit along with Merry, as ever together. Frodo put little Elanor down and closed the short distance between the three to hug each hobbit in his turn. "When did you get in from Crickhollow?"

"Just now" replied Merry, looking as hale and hearty as ever, "Sam said you and little Elanor were by the stream, so we thought to meet you up."

"Only to hear you slander me to my favourite niece!," Pippin chimed in good-naturedly. At this he knelt to Elanor, "Hello, my little love, do you have a kiss for your dear Uncle Pippin?" At this Elanor flung her chubby little arms around Pippin's neck and kissed him on the cheek. Picking her up Pippin said "Shall we return and perhaps sample a little of that fine 1420 that I know is in your storeroom, dear Frodo!"
"Let's!" Merry exclaimed, "For I'm parched from the trip. Traveling is one sure way to make one thirsty!"
Frodo laughed, "Let's return, Sam's bound to be worried about where we four have gotten ourselves off to!"

***
Looking up from the rosebushes that he again had started to trim, Sam caught sight of an image that warmed his heart. Elanor, a bright smile on her face, was on Frodo's shoulders and the three older Hobbits were laughing and talking as if they hadn't a care in the world. "If only they could stay like that, if only Frodo could always be that happy." Sam turned around and caught the wistful look on Rosie's face as she stood close to the back gate

that lead to the vegetable garden, her basket laden with parsnips and a few herbs, her voice trailing off with words left unspoken.

She had echoed his thoughts both spoken and not, but Sam wasn't ready to admit that to anyone not even his sweet Rosie, so he answered a little too brusquely, "Mr. Frodo will be all right. He's just a little tired is all."

Rosie looked at him in that knowing, slightly pained way for a few seconds but then her eyes grew kind as she looked at Sam and deftly changed the subject. "I thought that I would make Roasted Parsnip Pie for supper tonight." she announced brightly, "Pippin asked for it specially."

"Well, my love, you make the best Parsnip pie from here to Buckland, so it is no wonder that Pippin has asked for it." Sam said recovering his cheerfulness as he stepped towards Rosie to give her a quick peck on the cheek, "My mouth is watering all ready."

***
The four hobbits sat peaceably in the front porch of Bag End with their feet up against the sod wall of the house, smoking their pipes and sipping the fine ale from the year of plenty. From behind them was heard a jovial, "Drinking ale and smoking pipes, I don't know, Gimli, what you all see in it! Never have I acquired the taste for it myself."

"That is because, Master Elf, despite all the best influences you still hold to your Elven ways!" came the gruff reply.

The four hobbits turned around and sure enough, there was Legolas, smiling serenely, leaning against the top railing clad in the greens and browns of Mirkwood that he still favoured though he had now removed to Ithilien with many of his people and the blessings of his father, Thranduil. He still carried his Galadrim bow and white knives though now blissfully the need to press them into service was lessening all the time.
Next to him stood Gimli, stout and stalwart as ever, but with a gleam of fierce enjoyment lighting up his strong features. "Well, are you just going to gawk or are you going to let us in and allow at least me to sample some of that fine ale!"

The four hobbits sprang to action at once hugging the new arrivals and rapidly firing many questions. "How was your journey?" "Are you settling in Ithilien well?" "Will Faramir be making the journey?" "Where's Arod?"

Legolas laughed merrily and said "Peace! friends. Not even my elven senses can keep up with such an onslaught. The journey was quite pleasant I am settling in Ithilien quite well. As for Faramir, he is traveling with Aragorn and should be here in a day or two. And Arod has been stabled on the other side of Hobbiton, as we wanted to catch you unawares."

"And how are my favourite halflings," Gimli looked at each of the hobbits in turn, dwelling on Frodo only slightly longer than the other three. This however did not go unnoticed by Frodo and once again he felt singled out, isolated, and absent-mindedly started fingering the white jewel at his throat. The others noted this with varying amounts of pain and understanding and a brief shadow fell over the group of reunited friends.

Rosie had been watchful of this pleasant scene unfolding. Tensions had been high at Bag End lately what with Frodo falling ill for an extended period of time and Sam doing his best to ignore any of what this might all mean. Rosie had been trying to get Sam to face a few home truths but this was proving more difficult than getting little Elanor to eat her greens. Only the little one seemed unaffected by the strains in the house and remained as sunny as ever. Rosie thanked the Valar every day for the bright gift of her daughter as she was sometimes the only one who could shake Frodo from his melancholy. Given the fact that Frodo had been caught within the grasp of his "Remembrance" for a longer period this year Sam and she had given brief thought calling off Elanor's special day, but that idea was quickly discarded, if for no other reason that it would have depressed Frodo further. It was also gently hoped that Elanor's birthday celebrations could lift the clouds that hung overlong upon him. Hoped, but not truly expected, at least not by Rosie. Still her aim was to make this time as pleasant and carefree as she could possibly make it. So this is why she listened in on the scene unfolding on the front porch and sprang into purposeful cheery action when she noted the discernable decrease in gladness within the little group. She waltzed out with little Elanor trailing behind ostensibly to collect mugs but really to shift the mood that had started to list appreciably.

Legolas was the first to shift mood with that elven mercurialness that ever amazed Rosie. He saw little Elanor and went down on one knee gazing at the beautiful, yet suddenly shy child. Gil-dithen nín, do you not remember me?" he said in his softest and most melodic voice for he had been present at her birth. Elanor's eyes were wide with wonder looking upon the bright elf, but showed no real signs of recognition. "No?" Legolas continued softly, "Well, then allow me to introduce myself, Princess, Legolas Greenleaf, who will forever be at your service." his eyes aglow flashing love and laughter. With this Legolas took Elanor's tiny hand and kissed it in a most courtly fashion. Elanor seemed to ponder this turn of events for a second or two, eyes wide yet, pensive, lower lip caught between her teeth. Decision made, she kissed Legolas on the cheek and threw her arms around his neck in obvious approval of what she had just heard. Legolas laughed joyously and swung her up into his arms, proclaiming "Oh my little sun star, you have captured my heart! I fear I shall never be the same." Elanor giggled.

Gimli gruffly announced, "There he goes again, charming the women right, left and centre. I can't take him anywhere!" The others laughed, the tension lifted and Rosie breathed a sigh of relief, a small disaster averted for now.

***********
*Gil-dithen nín= My shaky Sindarin for " my little star "

Together again

The next day...

During a wonderfully satisfying Elevenses, which had included much to Pippin's delight, Cold Roasted Parsnip Pie, it became a debatable point whether parsnip pie was best eaten warm, fresh out of the oven or rather to allow it to cool and be eaten cold the next day. Such was the usual manner of conversation that could be overheard during Elevenses (and every other meal for that matter) in the Shire. And the table at Bag End during this Elevenes was no exception. Rosie, being the far-seeing lass that she was, decided that it was a good idea to make one pie for evening Supper and to specially prepare another pie to cool and be eaten at Elevenses the next day so that each experience could be fresh in the minds of the debaters, not that it would be ever truly resolved, this debate had long raged in the four farthings of the Shire. But this was not the point, the discussion was the thing, to be enjoyed as much as the actual eating of the dish under scrutiny, both gastronomic and verbal.

The newcomers had added an new edge to this discussion as their observations on this specific meal had never been heard before, the others usually trotted out the same arguments and rebuttals and laughed at the same denials they had when they'd last had this dish. Legolas, who was becoming more hobbit-like in his appreciation of food, added much to the conversation and was able to describe a different taste to his meal as he had it with the dark red wine that Frodo had had specially shipped in for the Wood Elf's occasional visits to the Shire rather than ale as was the Hobbits' practice. Elves enjoy their food, as they enjoy all things of beauty and accomplishment, but they do not discuss it at any great length, as do Hobbits, in fact when Legolas returned to his father's halls in Mirkwood he continued this very hobbit-like custom and had earned some very odd looks indeed from the other Elves.

Gimli on the other hand had been quite accustomed to the drinking of ale with dinner and often disagreed with the Elf on many observations about the meal, mostly to goad his friend, but at times to add some new insight that was applauded by the Hobbits.

Laughter and merriment were heard at the table. Rosie and Poppy served up the meal and then settled to tuck in themselves. It was expected in Hobbit households that the womenfolk serve up the meal but those who wanted seconds and thirds were to simply serve themselves and others as was needed. Food was simply too important to allow anyone's to grow cold. Ale mugs clinked across the table and tales exchanged.

Little Elanor sat on many laps during the meal but she seem to favour Legolas' for the lion's portion of it. "I think you've made a conquest there, my dear friend." Frodo said.

Legolas laughed and said, "That is well! For I do not think I should like to be parted from my little lady anytime soon." With that he proffered a broccoli spear to the toddler and she grabbed it and ate it with relish.

Rosie exclaimed, "Oh, I see! the little missus will eat her greens for Legolas, but never for me!" cheerily feigning a shock and astonishment.

Gimli harrumphed, "Bewitching children, that is what they teach these Elves in the Greenwood."

"Peace, Gimli! It is my innate charm that woos the child! Nothing more!" Legolas grinned in a mock superior way. At this Elanor reached for Legolas' crystal wine goblet, attracted to the shimmer and the deep red colour. "No, Gil-dithen nin! Wine is not for you." Legolas said putting the wine out of reach from the tiny hands. Elanor pouted a bit, not sure if she liked to this turn of events
.
Pippin said "Let her have some!"

Gimli added, "Yes, let's see if she is as charmed by Elf victuals as she is by Elves.

"All right, friend Gimli, we shall see!" Legolas gently brought the goblet up to the little girl's lips and she took a wee sip. She was still for a second and then she began to smack her lips and her face wore a delighted smile. All seated at the table, save Gimli, broke into peals of laughter. Legolas hugged the small child, exclaiming, "You have a dash of Elvish spirit, amid all that hobbit good sense, Gil-dithen nin!" Elanor sensing that she was the cause of the merriment broke into a fit of giggles.

Gimli simply harrumphed "Elven mischief!" but the twinkle in his eye belied his gruff expression.

***
A few months earlier...
"I would go, Aragorn, and you cannot stop me." Arwen stated flatly staring out the window of their bedchamber high up, in the Citadel on the seventh level of Minas Tirith. Her voice softened, "My place is with you, my love, and you mean to go, so I will also."

"But the baby..." Aragorn replied his voice filled with worry.

"The baby will be fine, I'm only seven months along, I will carry for another five months yet. We will be back long before my confinement" Arwen reasoned calmly, walking over from the window to hold his hands in hers. "We can even take a leisurely pace and still arrive back in Minas Tirith with much time to spare."

Aragorn remained unsure as he gazed at his ethereal wife, she would always remain Elven to him, her beauty, her grace, her wisdom. He, at times, still could not believe, let alone comprehend that she had chosen him, at what she had given up for him. The thought often left him humbled. He was fearful for their child if she undertook this journey to the Shire, but he also realised there were times when she would not be gainsaid. This was proving just such a time. And if he was honest with himself the Valar protect both of us. He dearly wanted her at his side. He had come to depend on her words and her wisdom in the practice of statecraft and yet she also knew when he needed to escape the pressures of kingship even if that escape existed only within the confines of their private apartments in the Citadel. She sensed what he needed and when he needed it. She had become his heart and his head, his other self. Their lives had become entwined to such an extent that it was almost physically painful to be apart from her for any real length of time. Aragorn slightly furrowed his brow and, giving in, said "The pace will be leisurely, and we will take a healer with us so that she can protect you in any way that I cannot. We shall leave on the morrow early."

Arwen smiled serenely, "Of course, my love."

Aragorn beheld her face, so close he was that he could see the flecks of soft violet in the seas of her blue eyes. "Why can I deny you nothing?"

Arwen said drawing closer her hands locked in his at their sides "Because we are one, my love. I must be at your side through this life's journey."

Aragorn softly sighed and kissed her forehead, "I must go and see to the final preparations for tomorrow's departure. I will see you at evening meal."

"Until then," replied Arwen. And with that he was gone. Arwen breathed a shuddering sigh of relief. She had been unsure if she was going to be able to stand her ground and demand that she accompany him on this trip. She spoke truly when she had said they were one, with him she felt strong, confident and beautiful, without him there were times when she felt unsure, lost, alone. And when these feelings, so unfamiliar throughout her 3,000 years of life, did occur they unnerved her. She was still Elven in many senses of the word. She still perceived, thought and sensed as an Elf. These qualities had not dimmed, nor did she think that they would. The choice of Luthien simply meant that she had chosen a different destiny from that of all her kindred, save one. She did not fully understand it, but she knew that one day she would simply accept the Gift of Iluvatar and join Aragorn beyond the walls of this world.

The feelings of loneliness and isolation always lessened and she again felt contentment with her choices in life. But they never left completely. She could never tell Aragorn of this. She knew that he would willingly share this burden with her but she could not allow that. She would share her soul, her life, her mind with him, share his bed and bear his children. She knew he carried his own feelings of pain and not-quite-regret for what she had decided and she could never add her own. This was her burden to shoulder and shoulder it she would. She only asked that he be with her to share his life with her, that would be the only way her loneliness would be assuaged and make her burden easier to carry. Their love was strong and it would endure, binding their separate lives into one. It would be enough.

Arwen shook herself from such somber and serious thoughts and left for the Houses of Healing to speak with Ioreth about her possible company on the journey north.

***

On the banks of the Brandywine, two months later

"Faramir, where is Aragorn?"
The Steward of Gondor looked up from the parchment he was perusing about lumber needed at a settlement in southern Eriador, to see Arwen looking inquiringly at him.

He smiled, "Lost your husband again, my lady?"

"Well, when the wanderlust takes him, he's harder to keep trackof than your little one!"

"Young Elboron can be a handful at times, that much is true. But then again so could his uncle." Faramir laughed softly as he thought of his beloved older brother.

"Do you still miss him?" Arwen said half speaking about the fallen Captain of Gondor and half about his rambunctious little namesake.

"More than you know," Faramir said wistfully, but without that pain had taken him so long to get over, now only the remembered and shared love flitted across his gentle blue eyes. "As for the little terror that bears his name. Yes, and I fear that when we return, half of Dol Amroth will be wrecked beyond repair due to his little lordship's er...'energy'." Faramir said ruefully but not without humour, "But he was too young to make the trip and my uncle said he would be happy to have him!" he ended doubtfully.

"But to answer your question, my lady, let me show you." At this he got up and ushered Arwen gently by the arm to the path that led to the little hillock where Aragorn had retired to. At that he left with a bow and concerned look up the hill.

***

The trip north was as promised, a leisurely one, Aragorn had made sure of that. And it had served a dual purpose. While the ultimate destination was the Shire, Aragorn had decided make a progress through the countryside leading to the Shire in order to survey not only the old but the new settlements that were starting up after the reunion of Gondor and Arnor. People in the more populated areas of Gondor had been invited by the King to take up settlements in the deserted north so that it might once again become happy and prosperous. The offer had been taken up with enthusiasm by many and Aragorn felt it was time that he personally see the successes and tend to the difficulties that had been encountered by the settlers. The progress had been successful and informative, much there was mull over when he returned to the Gondorian capital.

But thankfully, on the morrow, most of the party would return home and only a small private party including Arwen, himself, Faramir and Eowyn and one outrider especially known to Pippin, Beregond would move onto the Shire proper.
The amount of supplies needed to properly outfit a progress of even modest size as this was, offended his Dunedin sensibilities, the need to move swiftly and unencumbered had been learned at an early age. Aragorn understood that by necessity such a progress had to include outriders for pomp and protection; scribes for the keeping of records, but it still chafed him as he surveyed the campsite of many tents, the largest flying the King's standard of the tree and crowned seven stars, from the top of a small hillock slightly removed from the site. During his time as a Ranger such an camp in a relatively open space would have been unheard of. Danger had always been a part of being a Ranger, but there was also a certain simplicity. He stifled a sigh.

"I know that look, my love, you're thinking fondly again of your Ranger days, are you not?

He turned. There stood Arwen, now heavily pregnant and yet still managing to radiate an ethereal beauty.

Aragon laughed softly, "Again, you read my thoughts." He said holding out his hand to help Arwen the last few steps up the gentle incline and then saw her settled on the rock next where he stood, "You have to admit through, it was less complicated."

"If you can call ever-present danger, unyielding pressure and not knowing whether each day was going to be your last simple, then yes, it was much less complicated." Arwen gently teased.

Aragorn laughed, "Ah, but stale lembas and bitter ale can make for such a lovely evening meal."

"Stale lembas, indeed! Never has there been such a thing." Arwen protested feigning offence. At that moment the baby chose to make its presence felt, delivering a sharp kick inside Arwen's stomach causing her to flinch slightly.

Aragorn immediately knelt by her side, concern flashing through his eyes, "Are you all right my love!"

Arwen straighten, her eyes serene once again. "I am well. Although the little minx inside is certainly in hurry to see the rest of the world." she said amusedly.

It had been a month since they had left Eomer and the comforts of the Golden Hall of Meduseld, two since Minas Tirith and still Thank the Valar he thought, Arwen was the picture of health. Aragorn still doubted his sanity for not trying harder to keep Arwen in Minas Tirith. But, even as he thought it, he knew it for the lie it was. He wanted her here as much as she had wanted to come. And what was more, he sensed that there was a reason for her to make this trip, although what that reason was, he had yet to fathom.

"Shall we go back down?" he inquired of Arwen.

"No, No. Let's stay for awhile, it is such a beautiful place. I just want a few quiet moments alone in such greenness reborn. It has been too long..." her voice trailed off.

Aragon looked at her, a flash of guilt and regret lighting his eyes. She sat gazing peacefully at the green lushness of the Shire and the gentle rolling of the Brandywine beyond and never saw the look of pain and guilt on Aragorn's face. Which was just as well. Aragorn had sensed that her spirit was troubled and did not know how to ease it. He would not have her bear his sorrows and pain when she clearly had her own to carry. He hesitated to invade her innermost thoughts, partially as his deepest fear was that she was beginning to doubt her decision to stay with him. Coward, she is in pain and you hesitate to try and ease it, lest it should give you grief. He inwardly sighed. It was true he could not even imagine the bereft life he would have led if Arwen had not made Luthien's choice. He could bear anything and had withstood much with Arwen in his heart, near his soul. But this shadow slowly falling upon her was pulling her away from him and he felt powerless to prevent it. He voiced none of this, however, and simply slipped a protective arm around Arwen, into which she instinctively turned and laid her head on his shoulder. There they sat quietly in the reawakening Shire until evening began falling.

The awakening Shire with its noises and fragrant smells could fill anybody with a sense of well-being and it had done its level best to help restore the spirits of King Elessar and his queen. So that by the time Faramir came upon them saying "Forgive the intrusion, my liege, but you did ask that you be sought at evenfall." bowing slightly, they had both felt greatly revived in spirit.

"Of course, Faramir! We were going to go over the reports to be sent back with the rest of the party, were we not!" Aragorn said sounding more like himself.

"Yes, my lord." Faramir looked at his King, the man he respected above all others. He had been perceiving a restlessness from his friend for most of this journey. He knew that much of the small amount of pomp that had accompanied the progress had made the former ranger uneasy, but he did not think that was it. As his Steward it was not his place to speculate, as his friend, though, Faramir could not help but be somewhat concerned for him.

***

They reached the edge of Hobbiton the day after next during Elevenes, a hobbit meal time that had taken Gondorian cooks a while to believe existed anywhere other than young Pippin Took's imagination. Many in Gondor had a hard time believing that people so small as Hobbits could actually consume six meals in a day, but after noting their rather large capacity for displaying tenacity, valorous deeds and courage in abundance, those that knew the Hobbits had learned they were capable of much that was amazing.

Riding through Hobbiton Aragorn could see that the little village was again prospering and most signs of the ravages of war that had unfortunately scarred this lovely little village had been wiped away through the work of its industrious people.

Just before the party reached New Row Aragorn slowed by a head to allow Faramir to catch up to him. The King leaned conspiratorially forward, encouraging his Steward to do the same. Aragorn looked at Faramir with a gleam in his eye. "What are you thinking, my lord?" Faramir asked returning his mischievous look.

Arwen, sidesaddle upon her gray palfrey, just behind Aragorn threw Eowyn an amused, yet exasperated look that said "Men, will they ever be boys!" Eowyn softly chuckled shaking her head. looking at the tousled reddish blond head of her husband bobbing up and down in enthusiastic agreement. "Now you know where young Elboron, gets his mischievous streak, Faramir encourages him, he says he doesn't, but he does!"

Faramir straighten up and turned to his wife, feigning wounded pride, "I beg your pardon, my love, by that is simply not true, I am trying to teach my son to be the soul of propriety and correct behaviour."

"Oh, is that so, my lord. Then how do you explain a month ago," she turned to Arwen, "Elboron wanted to change the colour of the black kitchen cat, I found him and the cat covered in flour. I asked him who told him that flour could change a cat's colour, he said 'Papa!' and then just last week an inflated pig's bladder came flying past me, breaking a precious vase given to us by Prince Imrahil. Running after the bladder came my two boys, one big, one little, laughing!" Eowyn sent an amused, pointed look at Faramir, who was blushing but had brought his horse level with theirs. "Enough, madam! I am guilty!" He leaned over and kissed Eowyn lingeringly, "Am I forgiven?" he said pulling back a little, smiling in a slightly wicked way.

It was Eowyn's turn to blush, but she rallied quickly, "I'll consider it, my lord! But for right now, I'm hungry! What's the plan my liege lord! I'm at your service."

Aragorn had been gazing at the young couple, so glad was he they were happy. He could not think of two people who deserved it more. "Well, Hobbits always finish off Elevenes with a specially prepared ale. Frodo will have it cooling in the stream by the house, we shall take the ale out of the stream and then see what mischief can transpire from there."

"Beregond,"

"Yes, my liege!" the Captain of the White Company rode up level to his King.

"Do you feel up to a little pilfering!" Aragorn said the gleam returning to his eye.

"Most definitely, my liege!"

"Good, it is settled. They do not know you are accompanying us, so no suspicions will be aroused and it will be a doubly pleasant surprise. Be off now, the stream is around to the side of the house you can't miss it. Give us about fifteen minutes and then knock on the door."

"At once, my liege!" Beregond crowed and took off past them on his mission of mischief.

With the plan set in motion, the two couples continued up New Row until they came upon Bag End. Boisterous laughter and merriment sounded from inside. Aragorn dismounted and helped Arwen down from her palfrey. Faramir saw to the tethering of the four horses.

After his knock, he heard a bit of scurrying and the opening door revealed Pippin holding the cutest blonde little Hobbit child he'd ever seen. Large blue eyes met his and he was instantly charmed. "Hallo! Strider!" Pippin exclaimed irrepressible as ever, "Merry, Frodo, Sam, it's Strider! So good to see you! You remember little Elanor, don't you?"

"Of course I do! Mae Govannen! little one!" Aragorn put his right hand over his heart in greeting.

Pippin said in the child's ear, "This is your King, my little love!" Elanor gurgled and granted Aragorn a big smile.
"It is she who rules over my heart, I'm sure!" Aragorn effused, "Sam, she's beautiful. Mind if I hold her?"

"You need not ask, Aragorn" Sam, who had walked over to the door to greet him, said shyly, "Of course!"

Aragorn held the beautiful child in his arms and said, "Soon she will have somebody to play with when you come visiting!"

Arwen entered at that moment and the astonished Hobbits noticed that she was well gone with child. Many voices erupted at once as they crowded around the expectant couple "Congratulations!" "Why didn't you tell us!" "This is wonderful" "Legolas, Gimli did you know about this!"

Rosie broke through all the hub-bub, "This all well and I'm sure that we all wish them joy, but I'm thinking that My lady Arwen would dearly love to sit down right now in a nice comfortable chair and relax!" she said knowingly looking at Arwen, smiling.

Arwen smiled gratefully, "Thank you, Rosie, that would be most welcome."

"These men, don't know the first thing" Rosie confided in a friendly manner to Arwen, "Sam, move that chair over here near the table." she commanded."Yes, dear!" Sam said to the amusement of the new arrivals and a few of the old ones.
"You needn't go to that much trouble, my dear." Arwen deferred.

"Nonsense! We'll be at the table for a while yet and you need to be comfortable. Sam doesn't mind, do you, my love."
"No, dear!" Sam said automatically, lugging the upholstered chair towards the table, again to the amusement of old and new arrivals.

As Arwen was properly installed in the plush chair, Faramir knocked on the open doorframe. "Is there any room for two more!" Frodo was the first to the door.

"Faramir! Eowyn! Oh! It is good to see you both!" he said clasping Faramir's hand in both of his. "How is little Elboron, is he well?"

"Quite well and probably laying waste to half of Dol Amroth as we speak, Prince Imrahil will never forgive us, I'm sure!" Eowyn announced, laughing.

Gimli surveyed the Steward of Gondor and the White Lady of Rohan "Well, Master Steward, I see marriage continues to agree with you both" he said gruffly, but with an approving eye.

Faramir looked at Gimli, and then looked long at Eowyn, greeting Pippin and Merry, love filling his eyes and gratitude filling his heart. She has chosen him, loved him and helped him through some very difficult times. While he had long loved her past distraction, it had taken him a while to learn to accept her love, but those times were past, he now knew that he came first in her heart.

"Yes, Gimli. It does."

Legolas came over, saying by way greeting, as his hands were full of the child he had just retrieved from Aragorn, "That is so good to hear, my friend! And now, I must introduce you to the lady that has stolen my heart, Elanor, Gil-dithen lend nín, this is Faramir." Legolas looked at the Steward, "She's Sam and Rosie's daughter."

Young blue eyes sought older ones and they responded warmly to the gentleness they saw there.

"Gil-dithen lend nín, my sweet little star" Faramir translated aptly, " How perfectly nicknamed you are!" He laughed softly hearing a responding little laugh from the bundle of child in Legolas' arms. "Can I hold her?"

"Of course!"

Faramir held the child in his arms, rocking her back and forth. He caught Eowyn looking at him and little Elanor warmly. He smiled at her as if to say, "Elboron needs a little sister to protect." Eowyn glowed her assent.

Faramir then over heard Aragorn state, "Even though the meal has not yet finished, I have it in my mind that along with the Cold Parsnip Pie I should like to sample some of that fine Elevenes brew that I had last time we visited."
"No fair!" Merry exclaimed, "that is for aftermeal only, you know that, Strider!"

"Would you deny your King? Over many leagues have we traveled only to find hospitality lacking!" Aragorn stated with a slightly mischievous grin.

Frodo, suspecting some trick, decided to play along, "If Aragorn wants Elevenes brew then, Elevenes brew he shall have. Poppy!"

The dark-haired maid looked up from her over laden plate, "Yes, 1Master Frodo!"

"Fetch the Elevenes brew from the stream, it should be cool enough by now."

"All right, Master, if you say so," but the look on Poppy's face implied that she didn't hold with this break in tradition.
"Ah! A fine ale that was!" Aragorn stated to nobody in particular.

A few minutes later Poppy came back looking a little flustered as if she'd run back to the house. "The ale, Mr. Frodo, it is not there!" Loud dismay was heard from all the assembled Hobbits.

Now a missing cask of ale might not seem a very large tragedy, but given the Hobbits' love of food, it was certainly a very unfortunate event, at least.

Frodo sent a gently accusing glance in Aragorn's direction; Aragorn returned a glance of affronted innocence, which was belied by a twitch of his mouth, threatening to break into a grin.

At that moment, a knock was heard at the door, this time Poppy went to answer it, opening it wide.

"Is anyone missing a cask of ale? A passing vagabond sold it to me cheap!"

Pippin had been near the door when it was opened and he nearly dropped the meat pie he had been eating as he shouted, "Beregond!" rushing at the Captain of the White Company, Guard of Ithilien to crush him in a bear-like Hobbit hug almost dislodging the cask from atop Beregond's shoulder with the force of contact. "We didn't know you were coming!"

Beregond almost toppled over, laughing, "It's nice to see you, too. Pippin!"

"Now, who ?" Beregond inquired after being released from the Hobbit hug Pippin had delivered. Exclamations of "Me!" were heard and hands larger and smaller shot up.

Frodo remarked dryly but not without great amusement, "Well, as it is my ale, after all, I think I'll have some, too." casting a look at Aragorn. The former ranger, no longer restraining the huge grin, laughed, "I'm sorry Frodo, I just could not resist."

Frodo laughed, "Join me in a toast, then!"

After all had been served a portion of the fine ale, Frodo said, "To the reunion of good friends who see far too little of each other! I'm so glad that you are all with me here this day!"

All drank heartily and returned to the fine meal that had been laid before them. Much laughing and storytelling ensued, a child's delighted giggle heard above all.

*****************

Chapter 3 - Emotions Arise

The Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood surveyed the ravine that led into Imladris, sanctuary of the Noldori elves in the north since the destruction of Eregion long before the Last Alliance in the Second Age. Since the destruction of the Ring of Power and the diminishment of the three, Imladris still remained relatively untouched in its beauty. Elrond still dwelt there along with his sons, Elladan and Elrohir, twins and inseparable.

Celeborn decided that Imladris was the natural place to break their journey unto the Shire. Galadriel had been insistent that they make this journey although she had not been quite clear as to why. However, he trusted her judgment. Galadriel never did anything without good reason and truth be told, the hobbits were such a merry and valiant race that he was glad to take this time to be among them on such a joyous occasion.

He looked over at his wife; she had a pensive look on her face as she gazed upon Rivendell. He partly knew what was on her mind. Arwen. Galadriel had been saddened by Arwen's choice to forsake the Straight Way and stay with Aragorn, but she remained philosophical. Elrond had taken the decision far worse and harsh word and feeling had passed between the father and daughter when last they met in the hills above Edoras after Arwen's marriage to Aragorn when she bid farewell to her people. They had not spoken nor heard tell of each other since. Celeborn sensed that Galadriel wanted to attempt a sort of reconciliation between the two before they were irreparably separated. How she was going to bring about this reconciliation he sensed not even she knew at this point, but he knew she would try before...he could not bring himself to finish the sentence, for now after thousands of years together the idea brought him only pain. Elves do not love lightly and when they do it is lasting. When that love is sundered, the hurt is also lasting. It was the price they paid for being the First Born. Both joy and sadness remain undiminished over time. That was why the hurt between Elrond and Arwen ran so deep and might never find conclusion. Celeborn sighed.

Galadriel glanced long at her husband knowing somehow exactly what he thought from that one sigh, "But I must try, my love. I feel this most strongly." She looked deeply into his gray eyes.

"I know, my heart," Celeborn tilted his head slightly holding her gaze, "Just be mindful that success is not guaranteed. That is all I'm saying." the look of concern belying his even tone.

It was Galadriel's turn to sigh. She fell silent as Celeborn signaled for the small party to move onwards. She had been troubled recently by images in her mirror, mostly of Arwen. She knew her granddaughter was troubled, she could feel a shadow growing over her slowly. Though they would forever be sundered when Galadriel took ship to the West with many of her kindred within the near future, she could not leave her granddaughter to a growing unhappiness.

***

Elrond met them at the entrance of the Last Homely House with great state and pomp as befitting their nobility among the Elves.

"Mae Govannen! My Lord and My Lady! Welcome back to Imladris!" The question in the Lord of Rivendell's eyes was stilled by a look from Galadriel.

"Our Thanks!" Celeborn replied placing a hand over his heart.

Elladan and Elrohir rushed forth to greet their grandfather and grandmother with hugs and kisses in a far less formal manner,

Einadar! Einnaneth! So good it is to see you!" They cried out joyfully.

"And it is good to see you, both, my little ones!"

"It has been too long!" Celeborn grasped the forearm of each of his warrior grandsons in turn looking on them with pride.

The twins and indeed, Arwen had always had a much easier relationship with Celeborn and Galadriel, than did Elrond as son-in-law. There had been an unspoken unease between the three after Celebrian's departure over the Sea.

"Come, let us help you become settled," Elladan motioned to the nearest elf for the horses to be stabled, and the other three other Lorien elves to be quartered properly.

Elrohir picked up his grandparents satchels and carried them inside following the other three, leaving Elrond staring after them, a feeling of suspicion stealing across him.

***

"Adar has not been well," Elladan stated as soon as they were safely settled in the suite of rooms that overlooked the two waterfalls which fed the Bruinen, the river border of Rivendell, in which Celeborn and Galadriel stayed when in Imladris. "He does not eat, except rarely. He does not really sleep. He does not find joy in things as he used to. We are worried." Elrohir nodded his assent sharing with his brother a concerned glance.

A gentle breeze billowed the gauze-like russet coloured window hangings as Galadriel said, "That is why we've come. Does your Adar speak of Arwen, at all?"

Elladan looked at Elrohir, who after a pause said, "Never. Nor will he allow any to speak of her. It is almost as if she never existed." he finished, his face crumpled in a pained remembrance.

"That is wrong." Galadriel stated flatly, "To deny her existence is to deny his own pain. It can lead to no good."

"How is she?" Elladan asked, "Do you know? Is she happy? I cannot pretend to understand her decision, but it was hers to make. Now Adar punishes us all for what he sees as his inability to control her. That was never going to happen," he was growing angrier the more he thought. "Arwen could never be lead. Love is the only thing that has ever controlled her. Why can he not see that!"

Celeborn placed a strong yet comforting hand on Elladan's shoulder, "Peace, my beloved, we will do what we can."

Galadriel looked at Celeborn with love in her ageless eyes, she knew that he did not completely support this course of action, fearful of the further pain it might cause to those he loved, thinking it doomed to failure. But after feeling his grandson's pain he would completely support whatever it was that needed to be done, accepting that this was the path that must now be followed. Temperate and thoughtful; his calmness had always complemented her fire. "Yes, although it will not be easy." she warned.

Celeborn looked her and smiled "Now who is trying caution the other against hope." he seemed to be saying. Out loud he said,"In answer to your question my little one, she is happy enough, but a shadow begins to grow in her heart."

"I cannot believe that Aragorn would allow her to become unhappy!" Elrohir exclaimed thinking of his mortal foster brother who grew up among them, here in Imladris.

"It is not by choice, that he does this." Galadriel explained, "Arwen hides her unhappiness from him and he in turn hides his pain and doubt from her. Each is seeking to protect the other and it is this is that is pulling them apart. But that is not the root of Arwen's pain. The severing of the bonds of kith and kin is the source of her hurt. Her choice is made and cannot now be unmade, but I seek to convince Elrond that he must accept her choice and give Arwen his blessing before it is too late."

Alarm ran through the twins, "What do you mean by too late?" Elladan stated in a low, worried voice.

Galadriel stared hard at her older grandson, saying gently but firmly, "Before Arwen wastes away." She answered the unasked question in Elladan's gaze, "Yes, Arwen can still die of grief, in fact it is the way she will eventually die, but I would delay it, until she has lived out her life in full and not like this."

"You will have a very hard time convincing Adar of anything, Einnaneth! This has changed him." Elrohir dejectedly informed her.

"Still I must try." Galadriel's face shaded with strain.

***

The next day the air around Elrond's study crackled with tension and the strong feelings emanating from it cast a pall upon all of Imladris.

It had started politely enough.

"My Lord, My Lady, so nice of you to deign me with your presence. Now do you wish to include me in your secret designs as you did my sons last night." Elrond ended in clipped tones.

Galadriel eyed the Lord of Imladris. Elrohir was right. Elrond had changed. He had always been somewhat skeptical, but now that had crystallized into bitter cynicism.

The Lady of the Golden Wood drew herself up and said, "There is no secret. I wish to speak to you of your daughter."

A flash of pain and recognition enlivened Elrond's eye, but in a second it was gone, replaced by the by-now-customary cynicism, "I have no daughter. I did once, but no longer. Is there anything else that you would wish to discuss?" Elrond stated overpolitely.

"You know there is not. A shadow is beginning to grow upon her. I feel it and wish to dispel it."

"And just how does that concern me?" Elrond asked in a cool disinterested way.

"You know perfectly well how," Galadriel averred calmly refusing to be baited.

"I'm afraid I do not." came the polite response.

"Speak with her. That is all she needs."

"I cannot do that." Elrond stumbled, "She will not listen. She never listened and now..." Elrond's face shuddered with intense pain.

Galadriel pressed what she saw as an advantage, "She is with child, your grandchild, but her spirit is not strong and she may not survive the birthing, if you do not reconcile before. She will be in the Shire within the next two weeks, Go to her."

The pain increased on Elrond's face and Galadriel thought that maybe she was on the verge of breaking through. Unfortunately, with great effort Elrond suppressed it and said coldly, "As I said before, My Lady. I do not know of what you speak. I no longer have a daughter."

A flash of anger went through Galadriel, "You fool! You allow wounded pride to stand between you and your daughter. She has made a choice that is painful for us all to accept, but it was her choice! Do as you will, but we will go onto the Shire and let her know that she has not been banished from all her kindred's affections. I will not stay a minute longer, my granddaughter needs me." With that Galadriel swept from the room.

Celeborn looked after her as she burst from the room, and then he gazed upon his son-in-law. He looked long at Elrond and at first the Lord of Imladris returned the stare, only to give it up and return to his desk in a rude dismissal to the Lord of Lothlorien.Celeborn only raised a slight eyebrow at this, as he could feel the terrible pain of loss pulsating throughout the Noldorin lord. He strode to the table Elrond used as a desk and said calmly, "I understand your pain and anger, even bitterness, but be not blinded forever by it. Do not let it destroy who you are. If you do, it will only be tragedy compounded upon tragedy and that would grieve us all to see." He gave his son-in-law one last look and then left, failing to notice the single large tear that had just fallen onto the unread parchment.

***

Galadriel stormed back to her suite of rooms. And immediately summoned a servant to have her party's horses saddled and ready to ride. The elf on duty jumped to do her bidding and depart her presence, the Lady in full wroth was quite an alarming sight and not one to be trifled with. Celeborn gained the door just as the servant ran off to perform the given task.

"You certainly have a way with others." Celeborn remarked dryly to his Lady standing at the window. "First you alienate Lords and then you scare servants."

Galadriel glared at her husband, "Do not trifle with me, My Lord. And spare me from your omniscience."

"Bank that fire, my lady, I am not your enemy!" meeting hers with a little fire of his own.

Galadriel continued to glower, but the tense mien of her body softened and she broke her gaze, staring instead outside towards the two waterfalls then heaved a heartfelt sigh.

Celeborn came up behind her encircling her trim waist with his arms. He bent his head and said into the crook of her neck, "I think we should shoot him!" He smiled into her hair.

Galadriel laughed despite herself. "Would that we could, but I fear the twins would never forgive us."

"They're young, yet. They'll adapt!" Celeborn said mischievously, gently swiveling his Lady side to side.

Galadriel turned in his arms and looked deeply into his gray eyes, sighing, "But what are we going to do?"

Celeborn, immediately serious, held her gaze, "Why do you ask me? You already know what we are going to do, and I approve."

A small smile lit Galadriel's eyes, "I love you."

"I know," a twinkle glowed in gray eyes.

***

They did indeed leave that afternoon for the Shire. As Celeborn knew they would. What he did not know was that from the window of his study, Elrond, pain etched on his face, watched them go.

After they crossed the bridge and disappeared from sight, he turned away from the window. As much as she had angered him, Galadriel did speak some truth. It was his wounded pride that did not allow him to forgive his daughter. He could see no way back without massive loss of face. He felt trapped within a prison made of his own vanity.

Surely Galadriel exaggerated when speaking of Arwen's weakened state. She was given to hyperbole at times. His Undomiel had always shone with such a bright, undimmed light. Surely not.

She would be in the Shire two weeks hence. She was with child. His grandchild. Might not survive. These thoughts came unbidden into his mind and he pushed them away with great effort and returned to his work.

***

The Lorien party had ridden out of Rivendell just a few miles when they spied a pair of horses that seemed somewhat familiar. After having closed the gap a bit further, the elves upon the horses seemed even more familiar.

Elrond's twin sons rode up from the bend in the road where they had awaited the traveling party. "It has been too long since we have been in the company of Hobbits." said Elladan smiling a bit too brightly.

"And too long since we have spent much time with our "Einadar a Einnaneth mell!" Elrohir continued with suspiciously bright eyes.

"And your Adar has sent you to escort us to keep us from harm's way. Never mind the fact that we ride with three Lorien archers" Celeborn supplied.

"Exactly!" Elladan lied.

"Well, my love, what do you think? Can we bear their company on the last leg of this journey?"

"Well, I suppose we could. That is if Rumil would not take it amiss that we would take on two more protectors. How say you, Rumil?"

The Lorien captain looked upon the two new arrivals with a compassionate eye, "I think I should be happy to take up two fine Imladris warriors for the trip into the Shire. It can be a dangerous trek, if unprepared."
Elladan and Elrohir gratefully fell into line, unspoken reasons for joining the small retinue accepted without question. If they did not say they were going against Elrond's express wishes then it could not be held against them.

*********

** = direct quote from either book or film screenplay. Einadar! Einnaneth! = My gloss of Sindarin meaning "Grandfather, Grandmother"

Chapter 4 - Renewal in a Shire Spring

Celeborn began noticing a quiet shift in atmosphere as they rode through Hobbiton. A party of Elves entering the village was cause enough for comment at in any event, but when it was a party containing a Lord and Lady of Lothlorien and five formidable Elven archers, who did not appear to be on their way to the Grey Havens, it was remarkable indeed. The stares were friendly in intent and a few even managed to share a pleasant nod and smile with the passing Elves, before resuming tasks and businesses that had been abruptly halted at the appearance of the Elven retinue. Celeborn called a halt near the green by the newly rebuilt Green Dragon and swung off his horse gracefully, lightly landing upon the spring grass.

"What do you mean to do, my Lord?" Galadriel inquired curious at his intent.

"Why I mean to ask directions to Bag End, of course!" The Lothlorien Lord replied lightly. He felt alive, breathing in the Shire's cool spring air. He almost felt young again. 

Galadriel looked after him, amused confusion written on her face. Celeborn approached a Hobbit who seemed to be on his way into the Green Dragon in need of some sort of refreshment. "Good Sir!" Celeborn voiced merrily, "If you would be so kind as to direct our party to Bag End."

The Hobbit in question, one Dunbarrow by name and a good sort of fellow, looked a little stunned at first, to be addressed by this Elven Lord, emanating a regal strength which was paired unexpectantly with a joyfulness that was plain for all to see. He quickly recovered his Hobbit good sense and said in a strong, clear voice, craning his neck to meet the Elven Lord eye to eye. "Bag End, you say!"

Celeborn smiled serenely and inclined his head.

"Well, you'll be wanting to keep to the left. You'll come to a row of trees, what's called New Row now, been replanted by Master Samwise Gamgee, with the help of her lady's soil," he glanced at Galadriel and realisation struck that this was indeed the lady of which he spoke. Galadriel held his eye kindly and smiled, Dunbarrow swallowed, but continued gamely onwards, returning his gaze to the Elven Lord, "Keep on New Row until you come to a gate and the hobbit hole beyond is Bag End. You can't miss it!"

"Thank you most kindly, Good Sir!" Celeborn fairly sang out "You have been most helpful." and in one graceful, fluid motion regained his horse's seat and the Elven party stepped off once again, leaving the astonished Hobbit gazing after them, thinking, "Grander folk, I've never seen!" Remembering his thirst, Dunbarrow thought, quite a tale this will make, but first before telling a tale, one must wet the whistle with a fine brew. And he went inside to do just that. 

***

"Did you enjoy yourself, My Lord?" Galadriel peered at her husband's delighted countenance, a knowing smile playing across her lips.

"You know...I did indeed." Celeborn's face lit with joy and amusement. The directions of course had not been needed, but Celeborn sought to break through the awed silence and talking seemed the best approach.

***

In the woods near Bag End as the Elves approach, Arwen was learning of their arrival.

"Einadar a Einnaneth are coming here." Arwen did not know exactly why, but she felt panicked by the fact. She had had contact with so few of her own kith and kin since her marriage. She did not know if that was due to her father or not. Galadriel had not been against that match, per se. And neither had her brothers, if truth be told. Elrond had, though. Their parting in Rohan after her wedding had not been a happy one and it tended to overshadow any other feelings she had about her kin. To Aragorn she looked like a bird about to take flight, "Is my Adar with them?" She asked slightly unsteadily staring through the trees, not really seeing them.

"I do not believe so." Aragorn stated, concern in his eyes, "But I cannot be sure." he answered truthfully.

Arwen drew a deep breath and composed herself, "I am ready," She said swiftly, meaning to portray calmness and serenity.

She looked as if she were preparing for a harrowing ordeal, Aragorn thought. What passed between Elrond and her that night? But Aragorn could only wonder at the words exchanged, she had never mentioned it to him. Aragorn sighed at yet another secret withheld, but again said nothing. 

Arwen rose from the low tree branch in which she had been sitting and faced Aragorn looking into his eyes and seeming to try and draw strength from them. "Hold me! Do not ever let go!"

Aragorn confused and scared, "Never. My love." His mind cried out, what troubles you, my heart? but his voice remained silent, afraid of the answer.

Arwen's fluttering heart was calmed in Aragorn's arms. As always she felt strong, beautiful and loved when held by him. But it could not always be so. She knew must learn to live her own life, but more and more lately she felt scared and unsure. It was most unsettling and not a little humbling. The news that her beloved grandparents were arriving soon only inexplicably increased this panic. 

Aragorn felt her panicked rhythms calm themselves as he held her. He kissed the top of her dark head. They gently swayed side to side. His worries increased until he could longer contain them. "My love," his voice broke, "What troubles you? Can you not tell me?"

Arwen stiffened in his arms, "Nay, I cannot," came the muffled response, "Please do not ask me."

Fear slashed through Aragorn and he could not bring himself to press his beloved further. He held his pregnant wife in his arms and pondered the future and the past, worry growing in his heart.

***

The Elves gained Bag End soon after leaving Dunbarrow to his storytelling. They rode with light hearts thinking of Hobbit hospitality and the good times to be had. Celeborn signaled for Rumil to knock upon the rounded door. The Lorien archer had just dismounted when Frodo came around the house carrying a smallish cask of ale. 

Seeing the Ringbearer, Rumil bowed low, hand on heart and said, "Mae Govannen! Frodo Baggins. We have come to celebrate and break bread with you, if you will have us."

Frodo's eyes lit up and setting the cask down, he surveyed the assembled retinue said, "If we will have you? My Lords, you are most welcome! Come inside!"

At that the Elves dismounted and followed Frodo, Rumil retrieving the forgotten cask, hefting it onto his shoulder.

Crossing a Hobbit threshold is never an easy task for an Elf, seen from a purely technical point of view. Hobbits being the shortest people in Middle Earth and Elves being among the tallest. But Elves, ever desiring merry company, were willing to brave the small elements of a Hobbit hole, because the rewards of good food and better company were far greater than the little trouble incurred. Celeborn stooped through the door of the little dwelling. He held out his hand to assist Galadriel over the threshold, stating merrily afterwards, "I do believe this is the loveliest home I have ever had the privilege to enter!"

Rosie, who had rushed to the door to greet the new arrivals blushed to hear such a compliment from the Lord of Light. "Thank you, my lord." she began rather abashedly for, aside from Legolas, she was still rather unaccustomed to the bright and beautiful Elves. "It is kind of you to say!"

"It is nothing but the truth!" Celeborn said merrily.

Rosie then dropped a small Hobbit curtsey to Galadriel, "We are honored, My Lady that you have deemed us worthy of such a long journey!"

Glowing gently Galadriel replied, "It is we who are honoured to attend this joyous celebration."

Legolas, coming forward holding little Elanor in his arms yet again, said "Mae Govannen! My Lord, My Lady--At this he paused for Elrond's sons had just bent into the small Hobbit hole. "Elladan! Elrohir! I did not know that you were coming! So good it is to see you again!"

"I hope you do not mind," Galadriel explained to Frodo, "We passed through Rivendell on our way here and the twins desired to join us."

Frodo said, "Of course, my lady! They are most welcome!"

At this Elladan and Elrohir placed their hands on their hearts and bowed their heads in thanks. As they did Legolas noticed a strained tension in his friends' movement, but put that thought aside for the moment.  "My lord, My lady, might I present to you, my little love, Elanor Gil-dithen nín, who in three days time will be turning the ripe old age of two."

"Elanor Gil-dithen nín! The flower of Lothlorien. Never since my own dear daughter have I beheld such a perfect little beauty." Celeborn reached down to retrieve a flower from a nearby vase, held it to his face between cupped hands. He blew gently into them as a slight breeze reminiscent of a Lorien spring blew in through the door. Celeborn revealed a small golden flower for which the child had been named, which he then held out to Elanor. 

The child's eyes were wide with wonder and she grasped the flower stem and then looked again into the smiling, silver gaze of the ageless Elf Lord. Elanor's face broke into a sunny smile and another Elf was charmed.

Galadriel laughed, "Sam, she is truly lovely!" Elanor turned towards the melody of Galadriel's voice and laughed again, prompting the Lady to reach out to Legolas to hold her. "My little one! Much happiness will you bring to all that know you. And that is a rare gift, indeed. Use it well," she said as she held the child rapt gazing into her blue eyes, humming a strain of an elven song and bouncing the child gently in her arms.

Galadriel was reminded of Arwen and the beauty that had much the same effect on everyone when she was Elanor's age.

"Has Aragorn arrived yet?" The strange tension that Legolas had earlier noticed and dismissed in the twins was back in Galadriel's voice.

Legolas realised in a flash what that tension must have meant and was surprised that it had not struck him sooner. That he knew of, Arwen had not seen her kin since her wedding.

"He and Arwen arrived yesterday along with Faramir and Eowyn. I'm not quite sure where they are at the moment." Legolas said.

***

At that moment, Aragorn was also wondering where Arwen was and who had replaced her with this troubled little bird onto which he gently held. He did not understand it. What couldn't she tell him? He feared one answer but he couldn't let that blind him to any other possibilities. Her physical health as far as he could tell was fine, but more could ail a person than just the physical, Arwen was simply slipping away from him faster with each passing day. He shook himself from these thoughts and suggested that they make their way back to the house. Arwen looked him long as if there was something she wished to say then stopped herself and began walking back towards the house. 

They had just rounded a bend in the path when Arwen stopped short seeing Lorien horses tethered just outside Bag End. She then, drew herself up and walked the last distance to the house, Aragorn followed close behind. As she entered the house all conversation stopped and many a pair of eyes met her at the door. Again she paused, at a loss, and then saw two she did not expect. 

"Elladan! Elrohir!" Joy shot through her as she ran the short distance to her brothers and was encircled in a warm, loving hug. Tears stung her eyes as she kissed both brothers, "In truth it has not been that long but it has felt so much longer!" 

Elladan whispered into Arwen's neck, "We've missed you so much, mell muinthel," his voice thick with emotion. 

"Melldanya!" Elrohir kissed her cheek and wiped a tear from his eye as he drew back to view his pregnant sister, "You look so beautiful and with child." His eyes filled with regret at having missed much of this time in Arwen's life. Curse Adar, for trying to keep us separate. His hand reached up and gently caressed Arwen's face.

Arwen shone as she hugged her brothers, Aragorn had not seen her this happy and contented in a very long time. It was as if a light from within had been rekindled. Aragorn's heart ached to see it, both from happiness and pain. Regret and doubt filled him as he stared at the reunited brothers and sister. He caught Galadriel watching at him, he held her searching gaze for a moment but could take no more and left the room as quickly as he could without raising suspicion. Faramir had also observed his reaction to Arwen and her brothers and with a kiss and silent word to Eowyn, he too slipped away.

***

Normally Aragorn could hold Galadriel's gaze with something approaching equanimity having been raised with Elves and not unfamiliar with their ways, but today it was just not to be. There were too many conflicting emotions roiling inside him to bear her penetrating stare. He had somehow arrived at the stream where Arwen had rebuffed his efforts to comfort her. Aragorn collapsed to his knees by the banks of the stream, torn by the emotions that would no longer stay under wraps. I have done this to her. It is because of me that she cannot be happy he thought mournfully, his heart breaking as he thought it. And I can do nothing to ease her pain when she will not even allow me to enter into her heart. He despaired. He was slowly through his own love destroying that which he held most dear. He had trod the Path of the Dead. Fought the powers of evil on its very soil and had never felt the sense of despair that he felt now. He had withstood much; always knowing in his heart his reward was her love. Now she was wasting away because of him and the choice she made to stay by his side. She was about to give birth to their first child, he should feel joy, instead he felt nothing save the recurring thought of "I have done this to her."

A step behind him broke his troubled reverie; he turned to see Faramir stop in his tracks, waiting for a sign that it was all right to continue onwards. Aragorn gently nodded. His Steward walked the last few feet and sat next to his King. "I beg pardon, my liege, if I am disturbing you in any way," Faramir began deferentially. 

"Please, Faramir, we are in the Shire. You need not call me "my liege" here. As you see the others do not." Aragorn did not think he could bear any formality right now.

Faramir nodded his assent, "As you wish...Aragorn." he stated hesitantly, but after a moment seemed to decide upon a course that he would not have normally taken had they been in any other portion of his liege's kingdom. "If you will pardon me for asking, Aragorn," he paused, then pushed onwards, "What troubles you, my lord? I only ask out of concern for you, but if you do not wish to confide in me, I shall understand. If I offend, please pardon me." Faramir finished, unsure of himself and alarmed at the pain he saw in his liege's eyes.

Aragorn paused, smiling despite himself at the younger man's discomfiture. "Nay, you do not offend me. It pleases me to know that you care enough to enquire and feel confident enough to try."

Faramir remained silent, hopefully expectant. Aragorn sighed, "I'm not sure anything can be done."

"Well, if I knew what caused the problem, perhaps I can seek a solution for you." the younger man said earnestly, growing in confidence at his lord's forbearance.

Aragorn laughed, "Faramir, you are most persistent!"

"So Eowyn tells me daily, along with my many faults!" Faramir chuckled slightly.

Aragorn turned thoughtful, gazing at his Steward, a man of considerable intelligence, abilities and compassion. A man he had come to respect for his honesty and integrity. "You are happy in your marriage, are you not? I can tell by the way you and Eowyn look at each other. It warms my heart to see it."

The young Steward looked down, a blush crept across his face, "Yes, my lord. She is my life, my soul. I do not think I should want to continue living if she were not by my side, making me laugh, making me think. She loves me, though I still sometimes wonder why." he stopped, bashful that he had revealed so much to his king.

"She loves you because you a good and honorable man, Faramir. and have given her much." Aragorn said thinking of Eowyn when he had first met her at Edoras.  She had been full of regret and sadness; a soul longing for a life beyond sorrow and duty.

"It is she who has given to me!" Faramir contested, then stopped short. "I'm not always the most forthcoming about what is upsetting to me. Force of habit."

Aragorn thought of the one who forced that habit, Faramir's father, Denethor, the last of the ruling Stewards, and of the unfathomable contempt in which he had held his second son.

Faramir continued, "But she brings it out of me, Aragorn. She helps me to be a better man." He looked up cautiously wondering what Aragorn was thinking of these words. 

Aragorn looked pensive, saying slowly, "I know of these feelings too, my friend. Arwen resides in my heart. I so love her that I cannot bear to be apart. She is in my heart and in my head. A part of all that is good in me." Aragorn's face bore an anguish that it pained Faramir to see, "But alas, I fear it is not enough." Aragorn said, shaking his head, "Daily she slips from me."

"Do you doubt her love, my lord? And pardon my asking." Faramir inquired.

"Nay! Faramir! That she loves me, of that I'm sure." Aragorn avowed. And I fear it will be her undoing. he thought but did not say, "A part of her grows more shadowed and sorrowed each day. I cannot reach her. She will not confide in me."

Faramir looked at his King and then out toward the small stream, quickened by winter's thaw, his face thoughtful, "Much pain was in Eowyn's heart." Faramir glanced quickly at Aragorn catching his King's downcast gaze, "Much pain was held within mine." he continued, "You cannot force Arwen to tell of her pain, but you can trust her enough to listen to yours." he ventured. Aragorn looked towards him ready to protest but Faramir pressed ahead not meeting Aragorn's gaze. "She loves you, I know she does, and you wish to not burden her with your troubles, especially as you feel she carries her own. But it is this very act of love that is keeping you apart. You must share your burdens and derive strength from each other. Only then can you can truly ease her pain." Faramir fell silent, wondering at his audacity. As if to make amends for his boldness, Faramir spun and kneeled before his king, head bowed, "Forgive me, my king. I see that I speak out of turn. It is a fault that I often let my emotions overcrowd my good sense often to my own detriment. Although all that I have said was meant in love and concern." Faramir stayed kneeling awaiting the King's displeasure. After no scathing words were delivered nor harsh blow received, Faramir looked up and stared in amazement. 

The King's eyes were filled with pain and compassion, bright with tears. "Never apologise again for who and what are you, my dear friend. Your words do not offend me." Aragorn reached out and put his hand upon Faramir's shoulder, "They are wise and I shall try and heed them."

"Yes, The Steward of Gondor does counsel wisely." came a serious and somber voice from behind. The two men spun and stood to behold the Lady of Light standing above them at the top of the bank. Faramir cast his eyes respectfully downwards as the Lady descended the bank shore. She gently lifted his head with her hand, "You are wise beyond your years, Faramir, son of Denethor. Never doubt again your heart or your worth." With this she kissed his forehead, "Leave us now, for I have much to discuss with your lord." Faramir cast a quick glance at Aragorn, who nodded slightly, and after touching his heart in farewell he silently left.

Galadriel smiled, noting that he would not take a direct command from her but looked to his lord for his leave, then settled gracefully upon a small upraise into the soil folding her legs around her, "He is a very good man, loyal and honest, pity his father could never see that in him."

"He is the best of among men and I am lucky to have him as my Steward." Aragorn replied earnestly, sitting once again.

"And he counsels well."

Aragorn sighed, his earlier pain returning to his heart and fell silent.

"That which is chosen cannot be unchosen, Aragorn. But it was her choice. Nobody forced her. It is not your fault." she finished answering the blame that he had laid at his own door.

Aragorn closed his eyes against the raging pain and doubt, and looked away.

"You are a stubborn man!" she paused, "Aragorn...Estel, look at me." Aragorn slowly turned back toward the Lady who said slowly, "You cannot help ease Arwen's pain until you forgive yourself for loving her."

She held his troubled gray gaze until he started to pull away saying, 

"I am a selfish, cruel man." Aragorn began miserably, "I have seen the shadow growing upon her and yet I have been too afraid of my own pain and grief to comfort her. Today when she was in joy at seeing her two brothers, my own foster brothers, I was in misery, because all my fears had been answered. She has made a choice that will bring her to sadness and I am the cause of that my Lady. That you cannot deny!" He argued angrily.

"I will not lie to you, " Galadriel said solemnly, "it is a choice that will cause her sadness." Aragorn quickly looked at her, "But it will also bring much joy." she continued. "It is what she wants. To choose another path would have led to no good. Has she not said as much herself?" Aragorn reluctantly nodded. "As for your charge of cruelty, do you really know yourself so little? You are so 'cruel' you would keep all hurt from her, even that which you yourself might inflict. You keep your pain away from her, so as not to trouble her in any way, causing yourself much distress and doubt in the process. These are not the actions of a cruel and selfish man; he cares nothing for the feelings of others and only looks to his own needs. They are, perhaps," Galadriel gently lifted his chin to meet her eyes," those of a man desperately in love and unpracticed in depending upon another. Also," she added more sternly lifting her proud chin, "Do you think that I would allow my only granddaughter to fall in love with an man such as the one you describe? I think you know me better than that, Estel."

Aragorn began to see sense in the Lady's words and his own pain began to recede somewhat, "Thank you, my Lady. But if I am not the cause, what is? What can I do? The shadow grows on her daily. I am at a loss."

"As I say before, decisions made cannot be unmade. Arwen, while knowing in her heart this is the right choice for her, is having trouble finding her own path through to the life she wants with you. Regret for what she has given up and those from whom she must be forever parted weighs heavily on her heart. She feels she cannot discuss these feelings with you for fear of hurting you. She would also keep all anguish from your heart and so her grief has festered and as in the way of Elves it has begun to dim her light; her soul. She knows she has made one that she loves dearly very unhappy at her decision. You know that she and Elrond parted badly, in Rohan after your wedding."

"Yes, but she never speaks of it. And I have hesitated to press." he added sheepishly.

"Nor should you. Faramir is right, you cannot force her to share her pain, you can only trust her with yours. But it is this rift between her and Elrond that is poisoning both their souls. She, to anguish; he to bitterness. This wound must be tended before either can truly heal." She reflected, "It is so strange that Elrond is so skilled at healing, so good at seeing clearly another's pain, but cannot see the wound upon his own heart. But love often clouds vision normally so clear." 

"What can be done, my Lady?" Aragorn asked, breaking Galadriel from her contemplations.

"Celeborn and I have tried to reason with the Lord of Imladris," she said with a certain amount of chagrin that Aragorn wondered at, "But I think perhaps, you might have more success if you were to speak with him."

"I could leave tomorrow early for Rivendell." 

"Nay, I think it best that you stay until after little Elanor's celebrations. After all, it will give you time to put Faramir's wise words into action. Talk to your wife, Estel. That is also a way you can begin to ease her grief. She needs you."

Aragorn feeling humbled said, "Yes, of course." He started to rise.

Galadriel stayed him with a hand gently placed on his arm. "Remember, you can only help her by forgiving yourself a little more easily. She will always love you." 

Aragorn then rose and smiled gratefully, "Thank you, my Lady. Your words have eased my heart." He touched his heart and his head in respectfully farewell and left to seek Arwen.

Galadriel closed her eyes and sighed. She remained on the stream bank, soaking up the warmth of the sun and allowing her senses to peacefully co-mingle with the budding greenness and growth of the Shire spring, letting it to soothe away the stress and strain of the past weeks.

***

Arwen, after she had talked with her brothers, looked around for Aragorn to bring him into the circle. But when she scanned the room, he was gone. She turned a worried countenance back to her brothers, "Did you see Aragorn leave?" They shook their heads, Elrohir replying, "I did not see him leave but I was not, at that point looking." Arwen pondered Aragorn's absence. Pippin as he was crossing to the kitchen to refill his ale mug, overheard her asking her brothers where Aragorn was. "I saw him go outside just after you came in, he looked kind of upset, now that I think of it. " This increased her worry. 

"Thank you, Pippin," she replied as she started out the door, "I am sorry my brothers, I must seek him." 
"Of course! Do you need any help?" Elrohir offered, instantly concerned.

"Nay, I must seek him alone, but my thanks." Arwen turned and was out the door.

She spied him just cresting the little hill that lead down to the stream. He looked up with such a hopeful look on his face that she ran to him and kissed him with all the pent-up love that was in her heart. He responded with such a hungry, fervent longing that she felt the ground fall from beneath her feet and the only thing that was keeping her upright was his arms. They stood like that for several minutes and when she finally came up for breath, she whispered, "I love you, can you forgive me!"

Aragorn stared deep into her violet-blue eyes, "I am the one who must beg forgiveness. I have been thoughtless, I haven't told you the worries in my heart, seeking only to protect you and doing you disservice of not confiding in you completely. Only did I fear the answer. That you were doubtful of your choices and wished to have never made them. Forgive me, I have failed you and through my own weakness have allowed you to fall into doubt and despair." Aragorn said in a torrent of emotion.

Arwen looked on him, love her eyes, "My heart! Do not give it a second thought. I could never say anything because I thought that if you knew of my regrets you would think that I doubted my decision. I do not. I may have regrets I shall face them and cast away the shadows that linger. I love you and I say again. I would rather live one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone.**"

Aragorn's heart soared upon hearing those words and all the fears and regrets that he had about what Arwen had chosen to do no longer resounded within his mind. 

*********

** = direct quote from either book or film screenplay. Einadar! Einnaneth! = My gloss of Sindarin meaning "Grandfather, Grandmother"

mell muinthel = Sweet Sister

Chapter 5 - The Green Dragon Awaits

Frodo sat back against a large oak tree within a little copse close to Bag End with Elanor his "little flower bud" near one knee. He loved it here. He used to read here as a younger Hobbit and had spent endless hours dreaming up adventures that he would go on with Bilbo. Now he was watching his little niece exploring the pretty greenness for herself. A butterfly fluttered past and Elanor giggling as she tried to run after it, falling over in the process, but intrepidly getting up to have another try. She still held the little golden flower of Lorien that Celeborn had given her yesterday; she would not let it go. One would have thought that it would have wilted under such attentions, but it had not. Elanor ran a little further chasing the butterfly. Frodo called, "Little one, not so far!" But of course the child paid no heed and Frodo had to get up to make sure the little girl did not get into mischief. Mischief, that was why they were out here in the first place, Frodo mused wryly. The little dear was getting in everyone's way as they made the preparations for the celebrations two days hence. 

Frodo volunteered to get the child from underfoot and quickly spirited her away to his special place among the trees. Frodo ran over to where Elanor was jumping after the butterfly and gathered up her in his arms, laughing, "Yes, you little baggage, it is your Tadaura in two days! Shall I tell you the story of why we celebrate Tadaura?" Elanor looked interested so he continued, "Well, it's a tradition that goes back more than two centuries! There was a terrible winter and it lasted longer than anyone could remember a winter lasting. So it is called the Long Winter. Well during this winter, people were not well and many little children did not survive until the age of two, but as the story goes Gandalf, the very same Gandalf that walks among us now came and helped Shirefolk through the long winter and after that children were healthy again and people began to mark the occasion of the second birthday with much joy and feasting. And that is why Gandalf is considered a special friend to the Hobbits because of the help he gave so long ago!"

"My part in that is greatly overrated, I keep telling people that but nobody seems to listen." Frodo spun around and there stood the very wizard of which he had been speaking, "Gandalf! You've arrived! It's wonderful to see you again!" his eyes glowing with happiness.

"Yes, I'm here! I couldn't miss this bright little star's Tadaura, now could I? Especially as I'm given credit for creating the whole tradition." Gandalf said, shaking his head and amusement tingeing his voice. "And how is the little star today! What a pretty flower you have there!" Elanor reached out to give the flower to Gandalf, which he received graciously, "Thank you, little star!"

"Celeborn gave her that flower yesterday and she's not let go of it since! Casting spells on children, again, Gandalf?"

The Maia tossed the Hobbit a scathing glance and continued on, "Well, if the Lord of Lothlorien carries an Elanor flower all the way from the Golden Wood, it must be special!" Gandalf said still talking to Elanor.

"He did not actually carry it from Lothlorien, he sort of made it out of another flower." Frodo informed him.

"Really," Gandalf's eyebrows went up a notch. "Well, in that case, my little star, I shall give it back to you, for it is a special flower that will never die as long as there are Elves in Lorien." At that he put the flower in the little girl's hair. "Let us return to the house and see what mischief we can create, Hmmm!"

"Have you been to the house yet?"

"Nay, I've only just arrived." Gandalf called over his back. They walked a little further to the road and a white horse, unbridled trotted up to greet them.

"Shadowfax, Ah! You beauty!" Frodo cooed. Shadowfax nudged his pocket as if searching for something, "Sorry, my lad, but I got no carrots for you today!" he said stroking the horse's thick white mane.

"Shadowfax! Shame on you! Begging like a common packhorse! Really!" Gandalf scolded. Shadowfax, however did not look in the least abashed, as he was a horse never easily cowed. "Does just as he pleases!" Gandalf said, trying to sound stern and disappointed, but it was all a facade and Shadowfax knew that. The horse then snorted, as if to say, "Well, put the baby on my back and let's get on!" Gandalf did just that and they walked peaceably back to the house via the road.

Bag End appeared to be a bastion of calm from the outside, but as Gandalf and Frodo reached the rounded door the mistaken image was shattered utterly as Rosie's voice, stern and commanding as any field captain rung out, "Legolas! Where's the rest of that bushel of potatoes I asked you for ten minutes ago, aren't you finished peeling them yet!" Opening the door, they saw the afore-scolded elf scowling at a potato as if blaming it for its half-peeled state. "If I had known they were this hard to peel I would have never asked for them in the first place!" the Elf was heard to mutter under his breath. Then realising that he wasn't alone, Legolas looked up from the offending potato, "Mithrandir! You've finally made it," he cried standing up, momentarily forgetting that he had a bowl of potatoes in his lap, which of course he sent tumbling to the floor. "A Elbereth! Accursed things!" he bent to pick them up.

Gandalf had been trying desperately hard not to laugh, but lost the battle when Legolas stood up and revealed the most aggrieved Elf face that he had seen in many a day.

Legolas, regaining his good humour said, "You think this is bad, wait until you see what she has Celeborn and Galadriel doing!"

Rosie had obviously gotten over her awe of Elves for as Gandalf and Frodo gained the kitchen they were astonished at what they beheld. There sat the Lord and Lady of Light, the Lady sitting on the floor shucking the newly picked peas and Celeborn sat at the table with Rosie bending over him informing him of the proper way to peel whole carrots. "Now you glide the peeler down the carrot away from you, that is the most efficient way of doing it."

"Yes, Ma'am!" The Lord of Light replied, concentration furrowing his brow.

"Honestly, you would think that you'd never cook for yourself before." Rosie said in a disbelieving voice.

"Well, in truth, I've not. We generally have servants to do that sort of thing."

Rosie hmmphed to show what she thought of that arrangement. "Well then, how then do you explain your Lady's aptness at shucking those peas?"

"Ah Well," Celeborn said, "My Lady is an Elf of many hidden talents." smiling affectionately at Galadriel who returned the smile and then looked up,

"Mithrandir!" she sang out with graciousness and dignity as if she were sitting in state greeting him rather than sitting on the floor of a Hobbit hole with a bowl of peas in her lap.

"My Lady!" Gandalf bowed low hand on heart, "Mae Govannen! I see you have found employment." he replied amusedly.

Celeborn, from across the table said, "I think young Peregrin would say that we 'did not get out of dodge quickly enough!'" he said laughingly. "Though it has certainly been...educational, shall we say!"

"Yes, and when I catch those two, I have a few things to say to them," Legolas said from behind them, bringing in the last of the peeled spuds in a decorated ceramic bowl. He bowed low before Rosie offering up the bowl, "Here you are my "sweet" lady. Is there anything else that I can do for you!" he finished merrily. Rosie, catching the quotation marks around "sweet" craned her neck to view him with amusement, "As a matter of fact, Master Elf, I was going to release you from my service, but being that you asked so "nicely" I think you can join Faramir, Beregond and Sam at the Party Field. They've gone to make the field presentable for the pavilion to be set up." The wood elf groaned slightly.

Gandalf watched with delight as the four-foot she-Hobbit brought the six foot-two Elf to heel. Legolas conceded graciously even though he had never stood a chance of winning. Rosie was in her element, and nobody was going to willingly gainsay her, be they Elf Lord and Elf Lady or Prince of Mirkwood. Legolas again bowed low, "Then I am off to the Party Field. Mithrandir, Frodo, care to come and share the miser...er joyous occasion." Legolas' eyes flashed mischief as he spoke.

Frodo demurred, "I really shouldn't. I am kind of tired. I did promise Rosie that I would look after Elanor." Both Legolas and Gandalf looked disappointed, as they had been hoping to keep Frodo active so he would not have time to dwell.

Rosie seeing the wizard and the elf's reaction stepped in and said, "Nonsense, get yourself down there with Gandalf and Legolas! Elanor will be just fine, won't she, my Lady?" Galadriel had been listening intently while pea shucking, looked up and caught Rosie's eye. She knew she had just been promoted from pea-shucker to child-minder in a cause she whole-heartedly supported.

"Yes, little Elanor will be just fine!" she averred as she put aside her shucking bowl and reached for the child, who willingly ran to her.

"And don't you let me catch you in the Green Dragon, either." Rosie said in a voice that said that was exactly where she wanted them to end up.

"Well, it's settled then! I guess we make for the Party Field," Gandalf confirmed ushering the other two toward the door.

As they were shutting it, they laughed when they heard Rosie say, "Did I tell you to stop peeling carrots?"

"No, ma'am." came the willingly obedient voice of Lorien's Lord.

"Well, then back to it."

"Yes, ma'am!"

Gandalf laughed as they closed the gate behind them. "Where was Rosie, when we were badly in need of battle captains, I should like to know."

"Orcs would have fled before her, had they known what lay beneath the surface of that pretty little she-hobbit face!" Legolas laughed.

Frodo grinned and said, "Let's leave before she changes her mind."

***

After having gathered up Sam, Faramir and Beregond from the Party Field, luckily for the arriving trio, the work had been nearly finished by the time they had gotten there, they headed for the Green Dragon if only not to enrage Rosie for a second time that day.

The newly rebuilt Green Dragon was just as quaint and cozy as had the old pub been, except maybe the seats were a little more comfortable. Granted, gone was the centuries of carved initials made by amorous young couples and various dents and scarred bits of wall that used to prompt the re-telling of favoured stories, such as the one about how Young Tom Buck had bet his friends that he could walk on his hands the full length of the pub after drinking six pints. He made it halfway and then toppled over, one of his feet denting the railing just on the far side of the bar, past the tap that served up Golden Perch ale. The dent and the story it evoked had always been used as a cautionary tale to all those young Hobbits who were tempted to take on more than they could actually handle. These things were lost during the unpleasantness of a couple years ago, but the spirit of the place remained undiminished.

A wood fire burned in the fireplace and there was a place near the bar that was occupied by two rather familiar Hobbits and one dwarf. Legolas saw them first. " So this is where you two have been hiding yourself, escaping the kitchen under field commander Rosie. And Gimli, for shame, being led astray by these miscreant Hobbits!"

Gimli feigned indignation, saying gruffly, "I came to keep them out of trouble!"

"Ah! Admirable! And who's going to keep you out trouble!" Legolas parried.

"Certainly not you, Master Elf! Trouble from the first time I laid eyes on you!"

Legolas laughed and simply redirected his faux ire at Merry and Pippin, "What do you two have to say for yourselves," Legolas said loomed over the sitting Hobbits.

"We're guilty, we admit it," said Merry unrepentant. Pippin nodding fervently. "Besides whenever we're around we always manage to burn or spill something."

"Merry's right!" Pippin added, "Rosie's better off without us!"

"Umm-hmm! I see," Legolas said skeptically, then smiled, "Well, to make amends the next round is on Merry! You may be useless in the kitchen, but I am sure that your money spends just fine." he said clapping the Hobbit on the back.

"All right! All right! Ales all round and one wineskin for the poncey Elf!" Merry laughed heading for the bar, and dodged the acorn aimed at his head by said poncey elf.

A few pints later, when everyone was feeling quite merry, Elladan and Elrohir came into the pub in search of the missing party of miscreants. "Legolas! Rosie said you might be here and we thought we might join you."

"Master Elves! Pull up a stool and stay awhile!" crowed Beregond as he clapped Elrohir on the back.

The dark-haired elf looked a bit taken aback by the overt friendliness of the Gondorian soldier, but he recovered quite quickly saying, "Do not mind if we do." and much to the delight of the sitting inebriates, he said, "What is everyone having!" Returning with the requisite number of ales and wineskins, and he and Legolas received a few drunken cheers for their talent for returning to the table without spilling a drop. Gimli was heard to say, "Finally a proper use for Elven coordination!" Legolas laughed and slapped him on the back. Elrohir then settled next to the Mirkwood prince, who proceeded to tell tales of how Elrohir's grandparents had been recruited as kitchen staff by Rosie.

At first Elrohir could not believe it, "Einadar peeling carrots! Elladan! Did you hear that?"

"That I would have paid much to see!"

Legolas added, "Not only that, but being instructed by Rosie on the proper way to peel them." taking another swig from his wineskin.

Elladan laughed, "I can hardly credit it! Einadar sitting with a peeler in one hand and a carrot in the other."

"Gandalf, it is true, is it not!" Legolas looked Gandalf for support.

"It is true," affirmed the Maia, "I also seemed to recall one Elf who was having a very strong disagreement with a potato!" Gandalf's eyes twinkled at Legolas.

Elrohir said, "What is this? Legolas, you are becoming positively domestic. Prince of Mirkwood and tormentor of vegetables." he chortled.

Legolas slightly blushed, "Well, my first attempts were frankly pathetic, the accursed things are ridiculously hard to peel!"

Elladan laughed, "Legolas, Warrior Elf, Death with knives and a bow, but even more lethal with the dreaded potato peeler! I think we should fashion a little sheath for your new found weapon!"

"Laugh it up, Ell'. With a bow or a potato peeler, I'd still outshoot you!"

"Think you so! Well now, Competition is a fine thing they say. How about a little match, then. Tomorrow on the field with the Mallorn tree!"

Frodo had been listening to this elven banter, enjoying the teasing and the camraderie when an idea struck. He interjected, "Instead of just you two, how about opening it to all who wish to shoot!"

"Fine idea, Frodo!" Legolas declared, "What say you Ell' you up for it."

"I cannot wait! What about you 'Roh. A friendly competition!"

As Elrohir agreed, Faramir chimed in, "Can anyone enter!"

Frodo said, "Anybody at all!"

That agreed they all set about to do some more serious drinking. After a few more pints and many stories had been exchanged, Pippin came up with the idea of playing "Hops in a Barrel!" This seemed like a good idea to everyone at the time. Gandalf laughed because he could see what the rest of the night was going to be like.

"What are the rules and what are the forfeits." Faramir asked wiping his mouth with his sleeve after swallowing a healthy portion of the contents of his mug.

"Well," said Pippin warming to his role as ringleader, "We need a bucket of ale!"

"Barkeep!" Beregond yelled, "One bucket of ale for young Master Pippin." slamming his hand down on the table to emphasise the point.

"Then we get a wooden mug 'cause it's gotta float!" Pippin looked around and reached over to the next table and grabbed a mug and nearly upending himself in the process, "This will do!"

As the bucket of ale was delivered Pippin leapt up to demonstrate. "You place the mug in the bucket and put in a little ale into so it doesn't flop over. Next, each player takes his turn and pours a little of their own drink into the wooden mug. The one who sinks it has to chug the mug of ale. Sound good."

Various drunken mutterings of approval were heard and the game commenced. The first few pouring produced nothing more than an occasional wobble from the floating mug. Frodo was next up and a look of utter concentration crossed his brow. "Ooooo! He's serious, lads! Look at the concentration." Merry declared.

"You not going to throw me off my game, Brandybuck! Watch and learn!" Frodo sent back. He had just capped it perfectly. It was still afloat, barely. He took the congratulations from the motley crew and said, "Over to you, Master Meriadoc!" Frodo's eyes glowing with laughter. Merry took his turn and to delight of all was the first to chug the mug.

The Elves seemed unusually good at this game, though all claimed to have never played it before. But even drunk their reflexes and timing had suffered little. Each was able to drop in just enough to cause the next one in line to drink. During one round Legolas was next to go and noticed out of the corner of his eye, Merry and Gimli conferring, but he gave it no real thought. Just as he was about to pour he noticed Gimli at his elbow but still gave it no thought. Just as he was about finish pouring all of a sudden both Gimli and Merry exploded with massive sneezes, Gimli, supposedly inadvertently, jostled the Elf's arm causing him to misjudge and sink the mug. The group burst into a roar of amusement, Legolas laughed as he turning on Gimli , "Treacherous Dwarf, I suppose that you are going to claim that sneeze was accidental!"

Gimli feigned innocence, "What are you on about, Elf. Time to drink up."

Faramir piped up chortling, "Come on, Leg'las. You must chug."

Legolas fished the mug out of the bucket and downed it with a proficient air, impressing the others with this hitherto unknown ability and laughed, "Happy now, Dwarf!"

"Impressive, didn't think you had it in you, lad Obviously my influence upon you grows unsuspected!"

"A Elbereth! I hope not!" laughed the Elf hugging his friend in a slightly off-balanced way.

The game degenerated from there. Little nudges and overt shoves causing havoc among the players until a good time and a good deal more drink was had by all.

Last orders were called and the merry, singing crew left the pub stumbling along in various degrees of drunkenness. Elves pretending they were not drunk at all and failing miserably, to bumbling Men walking drunkenly arm in arm to the shuffling Hobbits. All headed for Bag End and receptions unknown.

Chapter 6 - Of cures and competition

The next morning...

Faramir cautiously opened one eye. Bright light seared through his optic nerve and he quickly shut his rather too heavy lid again. He rolled over slowly, leaving his arm across his eyes as added protection thinking, Curse the Valar, just how much did I drink last night? He had a fuzzy memory of drinking out of a bucket. Surely not. he hoped but somehow he knew it to be true. No wonder my head feels as if two weights of cotton have been stuffed into it.

Just then a bundle of small blonde energy pounced upon him causing him to admit a loud groan. The small bundle of energy laughed and starting pulling at his hair. Against his better judgment Faramir opened his eyes and saw little Elanor sitting on the bed next to him bouncing up and down again. "H-Honey," he started, feeling as if his tongue was actually trying to work against any form of intelligible communication, "Could you please stop that! Elanor! Please stop!" Faramir said as his head was threatening to split itself in two with each bounce. "Eowyn!" he half shouted, instantly regretting the effort.

From the foot of bed was heard a sweet, innocent, "Yes, my love?"

Faramir was immediately suspicious, looking through slitted eyes he asked his wife, "Could you take the child away... Please."

"I thought you wanted a little daughter," Eowyn replied oh-so-innocently.

The supplication in Faramir's eyes cracked Eowyn's resolve. She laughed softly as she bent over to retrieve the child. "Scoot along, little flower, Faramir not quite himself this morning!"

Pathetic gratitude filled Faramir's voice, "Thank you." he said returning his arm to the shielding of his eyes. He, again felt somebody climb into bed, this time more gently. He could smell Eowyn's sweet, light fragrance of rose petals as a low voice next to his ear said, "You were wonderful last night, my lord." Faramir's eyes flew open and he turned his head to see Eowyn's fair and slightly freckled face grinning mischievously, her light reddish hair falling over the pillow.
"You're enjoying this aren't you?"

She merely nodded, the mischievous grin still on her face.

"Wench, Evil woman! Taking joy out of your own husband's pain."

Eowyn laughed, softly.

"We didn't..." Faramir stopped, too embarrassed to continue.

Eowyn's grin widened, "Well, if you do not remember...I am certainly not going to say anything. I shall leave you to recover yourself." At that Eowyn kissed him lingeringly, then got up quickly before Faramir could react and left, shutting the door quietly, chuckling to herself.

Surely I'd remember if we'd...Faramir thought, feeling the aftereffects of that kiss, the gentle brush of her hair on his chest, her soft lips on his. But he thought again. He was lucky that he remembered his name with the amount he'd drunk last night. He would ponder it later and surrendered himself up to more much needed sleep.

***

Eowyn leaned on the other side of the door silently laughing as Rosie and Arwen came up the hall, "Well, how did it go?" Rosie asked conspiratorially.

"Quite well! He'll be wondering for days now!"

The other two women laughed. Rosie said , "Sam will also! Serves them right! Drinking and not even asking us along!"

***

When Faramir awoke a couple hours later, he felt much more human. His tongue was working properly and the light did not attack his eyes with as much unbridled energy. He was able to get dressed and face the outside world. Or at least the kitchen to see about some coffee.

Arriving in the kitchen it gratified him to see that he was not the only one suffering from last night's over indulgence. Beregond definitely looked a little worse for wear sitting at the kitchen table waiting for the same coffee that Faramir was hopeful of. Pippin was not chattering away a mile second as was his usual wont. Faramir gingerly sat himself next to Pippin, who gave him a smile that said "Great night but I feel like death warmed over this morning." Faramir returned the smile and its intentions.

At that moment Aragorn appeared at the doorway to the kitchen, laughed heartily and clapped Faramir on the back hard as he sat down next to him, "Good night, last night I hear, my Steward."

Faramir straightened up from the blow delivered and side-glared his King. "My liege, I love you and will protect you all the days of my life, but do that again and I will kill you where you stand."

Aragorn again laughed heartily, "Is that any way to speak to your King, especially as he has been brewing up something that will help revive your ...er...sagging spirits."

"What?" Faramir said dully with all the understanding of a mountain troll.

Aragorn smiled and pressed on, "Herbs grown only here in the Shire can be brewed up into a fairly good hangover cure. Do you want to try?"

"If it stops this throbbing I'll try anything." The others had only enough energy to nod hopefully.

"Right then," Aragorn got up to retrieve the brewing pot from outside, "Sorry, Poppy," he said to the maid wrinkling her nose as he entered, "the smell can be pungent. That's why I brewed it outside."

"Pungent!" Pippin said, "It stinks!"

"Ah, but it works!" Aragorn said as he placed the pot on the table and went in search of mugs.

Faramir eyed it suspiciously. It was a darkish green colour and resembled a thick broth and had bits of shredded leaves floating on the surface. It looked thoroughly unappetizing but as the throbbing in his head seemed to getting worse not better he was willing to give it a try.

Aragorn returned with three medium sized mugs and began serving up. He handed Faramir his portion and Faramir further contemplated the contents of his mug as Aragorn passed portions to the other two.  Faramir looked at his King, who said, "Go on! No sipping. It must be downed in one."

Faramir look a deep breath, and started drinking. The stuff was vile but he managed to down it all. At first there was no reaction, save that of his stomach, which was unhappy with this latest onslaught upon its well-being. But after a few minutes his head started to clear and his stomach stopped rebelling. He did not feel completely himself but he felt a darn sight better than he had ten minutes earlier. He blinked a couple of times and the light stopped hurting his eyes so much.

Aragorn sat next to Faramir, elbows on the table leaning forward, peering at his Steward, "How are you feeling?" he inquired warmly looking at Faramir and at the other two, who were indeed looking a whole lot less green.

Faramir rubbed his face and looked at his King, "Not bad, not too bad at all." He smiled at Aragorn, "That's twice you've brought me back from the brink of death."

Aragorn looked at him, "Glad I could help." he said quietly, his gray eyes filled with remembrance.

Pippin chimed in, "This stuff is amazing! Poppy, get the recipe. This one's definitely a keeper."

"Hold on, young master Took! I hate to disappoint but these leaves can only be harvested in the early spring and cannot be stored. You have not found the answer to all your prayers." Pippin's face fell as indeed so did Beregond's. But Pippin, ever cheerful, quickly stated, "Then I suppose it's lucky that it is early spring, because that was building to be one very unpleasant hangover."

Aragorn walked over to where Pippin was sitting and tousled the curly mob of light brown hair, "That it is, Pip! That it is!"

At that moment a few more victims of the night's merriment appeared in the kitchen. Three elves who did not look as bright as they usually appeared but were loathe to admit it and Merry.

Pippin chimed up, "Merry! You've got to try this!"

The newcomers all flinched at the bright, cheery voice and glared at its owner. Merry gave him a look that clearly said, "Pippin, Shut it or I will shut it for you!"

Legolas sat down with a very unusual thud. Elrohir leaned with his back against one of the kitchen walls, eyes closed and head tilted back, saying "Now I know why Elves don't drink ale!" Elladan sat with another thud and put his head in his hands, "And Arwen waking us up at the crack of dawn, with that little sprite of child bouncing up and down." The dark-haired elf let out a low groan.

Faramir, thinking more clearly by this time, was immediately suspicious and looked at Aragorn, who was a little too busy ladling out his wonder cure, to be completely innocent.

"Ah, my next patients have arrived. Gentleman, if you will excuse me!" Aragon said to Faramir and the other two ushering them out of the kitchen.

***

The revelers all save Gimli had been properly dosed with Aragorn's "wonder cure" and were feeling roughly themselves by midday meal. The Hobbits still managed to put away a fair amount of food, being Hobbits, but the Men and the Elves were a bit more circumspect in what they ate and drank, not wanting to tempt a good thing.

Gimli said he had no need of Aragorn's potion, but Legolas suspected he said this, in order to get one up on his Elven friend, for in truth the Dwarf did not look as hale as he usually did.

Talk over the meal turned to the archery competition that had been proposed in the pub the night before. Legolas still thought it was a good idea. "Come on Ell', you still up for it!"

Elladan said, "Let us try!" He turned to Rosie, "If that is acceptable to my Lady." inclining his head, some of his affability and charm returning after the morning's...detour.

"I think it is a wonderful idea!" Rosie said.

The Lorien Elves, Rumil, who was Haldir's younger brother, Mereth and Dorvir, who had not joined the others the night before seemed to be very keen on the idea. Rumil said, "It will give us another chance to disprove the idea that Mirkwood holds the best archers in Middle Earth!"

Legolas replied "We'll just see about that! Lorien has long said it. And has yet to prove it!" his blue eyes snapping with enjoyment and challenge.

"Imladris will top you both!" Elladan crowed.

Aragorn raised his hand and said, "Gentlemen, before we start an elven holy war, I suggest that we retire to the Party Field to find out who is boasting and who is best."

This suggestion was met with general acclimation and it was agreed that two hours hence the competition would begin. The elves competing in the contest took their leave from the table in order to make ready their equipment, chattering excitedly as they went.

"Never imply to an elf that another elf is a better and more skilled an archer than he is!" Aragorn said shaking his head ruefully, but not without amusement. "I learned that the hard way. As a boy I suggested to Elrohir that Elladan was the better archer. Elrohir stopped speaking to me, and if he had not bested Elladan in a shooting contest a week hence, I think he could have held his silence a longer while yet."
Celeborn laughed and said, "You must forgive us elves this small vanity. To pull the bow in the service of others is an privilege hard fought for, to pull the bow well is to honour one's realm and people. The lighter side of this honour does tend to lend itself to not a small degree of arrogance on our part in all matters of shooting."

Gimli harrumphed as if to indicate that well did he know of this elven arrogance earning him a sidelong glance and smile from Celeborn.

***

The mallorn tree on the Party Field, the only one north of Lorien, gifted by Galadriel herself was only just starting to bloom resulting in a gentle radiance that rested lightly upon the field.

Hasty coverings of sheets upon bound hay bales were rigged at the far end of the field to serve as bosses and parchments were drawn up for targets. Excitement among the inhabitants of Hobbiton grew when word spread that there was to be a display of Elven archery upon the Party Field. Many had heard of the legendary prowess of the elves with a bow, but few had ever actually seen a display of said skill.

It was decided by the participants and Aragorn who had been nominated Range Master that they would pair up and each pairing would compete as a team sharing honours equally. Legolas paired with Rumil, Mereth with Dorvir and the inseparable twins would of course form the last partnership.

Legolas knew Rumil from times past. Before the Ring War he had frequented Lorien on various missions and errands and had been befriended by Rumil and his brothers, Orophin and Haldir, who had lead the Galadrim at Helm's Deep and fought valiantly, only to lose his life defending that which he had loved so much. The memory of his loss still pained Legolas. But while the loss would remain ever-present for him, Legolas knew that the only way to try counterbalance loss was to celebrate life. This he was determined to do.

Rumil looked at him, laughter glinted in his green eyes, "So what do you think, will the others even come close to our score!"

"Not a chance!" Legolas boasted, "They gone soft in Imladris!" he called loudly throwing a mischievous look in the twins' direction.

"Say you so!" Elladan retorted, "Toe the line and we shall see who has gone soft and who has not."

"Archers!" Aragorn called cutting through the chatter, "it will be a round of six arrows around the horn, and you have two minutes. Speed is not a requirement but accuracy is. Tangado chadad!" Aragorn held aloft Anduril, readying for the release.

Legolas, Elladan and Mereth drew their bows aiming at the small circle within the bull's eye, the object being to place the six arrows around, tracing the path of the circle. Whoever traced the path the most accurately would score the most points.

"Hado i philinn!" Aragorn shouted, slashing downwards with Anduril.

The archers let fly their arrows one after another with a swift, balletic grace that only skills sharpened lovingly over years of dedicated accomplishment could display. Bowstrings sang as each archer traced the circle around their target. Arrows flew true to their mark as the archers expressed their joy of shooting through each movement honed to perfection.

Mereth released her last arrow to complete her circle seconds before Aragorn called time. The archers retrieved their arrows and the parchments that had been attached to the targets were collected and brought to Aragorn for inspection.

Mereth's last arrow had hit slightly outside the line and another had been slightly inside the circle, so out a perfect score of nine, one point for each arrow and three points for spacing, scored six.

Elladan's parchment had each arrow touching the line but his spacing was slightly off for a score of eight.

Legolas' placing of his arrows was perfect, but his spacing was also ever so slightly off and he received the identical score of eight.

In the next round, Dorvir had scored seven, Elrohir eight to match his brother, but Rumil fired with a swiftness and surety that resulted in a perfect score of nine. His parchment bore the testament of flawlessness, with each hole equidistance from the center and each other, as witnessed by the spectators when the aparchments were passed around to "ooo's and ahh's"

"It's wonder what an un-ale impaired eye can do!" Rumil said goading Elladan just a little, laughing when the Imladris elf threw the water skin at him.

"It's not over just yet, Lorien! We'll see!" Elladan returned, eyes flashing with a good-natured competitive fire.

Legolas laughed and draped an arm around his partner, "Pay him no mind, Rumil. He's just a little out of sorts! Imladris elves do not hold their spirits, liquid or otherwise well!" the Wood Elf added with an evil grin aimed at Elladan.

The little crowd that gathered clapped the results as they were announced. Each round highlighted either speed or accuracy or both. After three rounds Legolas and Rumil lead the other two by three points and were feeling rather proud of themselves.

The next round required both speed and accuracy. "Next will be All comers, gentlemen!" Aragorn called, then smiled, "And Lady!" when Mereth tossed him a look.

Each Archer in turn would stand a set distance from the center target and would wait for Aragorn to call the shots.

Legolas went first.

"Tangado a chadad!"

Legolas stood ready, bow down, arrow knocked.

"Center right!" Legolas loosed his arrow and hit the middle right of the center target.

"Left center! Right bottom! Right center! Left bottom!" The calls continued and Legolas let fly the accordant arrow within the blink of an eye waiting only for the next call to release him. The release hand flying to quiver to bowstring with the next knocked arrow was a single fluid motion which held a beauty all its own. Out of fifteen calls Legolas did not miss one, hitting each dead center, scoring maximum points and raising cheers from the rapt crowd.

Each followed on, athletic grace and swift elven reflexes combining to create movements resembling the motions of a beautiful choreographed dance that would have been deadly had they been in earnest.

The partnership of the Imladris twins and that of Legolas and Rumil were even on points at what had initially been decided was the end of the competition, but neither were willing to accept a draw as an acceptable result, so a challenge was devised. Each pairing was to decide which archer was to accept the challenge.

Legolas stood for his pairing and Elrohir stood for his. The challenge was simple, each was given one chance to hit a small drawn target that had been placed a hundred feet away accessible by arrow only though a narrow opening less than a foot wide.

Elrohir shot first, taking aim and then let fly the arrow. The dark-haired elf waited impassively to hear what the result was, although he had been fairly certain of success. Sure enough, the little hobbit sent to check the result came back crowing, "In the black! The Imladris Elf has hit it square in the center."

"Well done, 'Roh!" his older brother enthused, sending a challenging look at Legolas who immediately looked pensive.

"Perhaps, we should just call it a draw and have done." Legolas said.

"Oh no!" Elladan piped up, "We will do no such thing. Take your best shot, Wood Elf."

"Well, all right," Legolas caught Gimli's eye and smiled broadly. Gimli returned the intent gaze, shaking his head, thinking that the other elves were mistaken if they thought Legolas was going to be beaten. He'd never known anyone as driven to prove themselves as Legolas was.

He saw the Wood Elf as he had seen him many times in battle, a calm grace had settled over him which honed an inner focus so acute that nothing could stand in his way as he sought to bring down his quarry. He saw Legolas take aim, hold and then release in a movement fluid yet powerful. He did not even have to wait for the report. Legolas had found his target.

Others had no such assurance and waited for the little boy to bring back the quarry to judge for themselves where matters stood. Sure enough, when the boy brought back the target a murmur of astonishment and amazement and one dwarfish laugh sounded throughout the Party Field. Legolas had indeed found the target. The parchment bore only one hole and in the boy's other hand was the Imladris warrior's arrow, split down the middle by a light green shaft and Galadrim fletchings. Not only had he hit the target but also Legolas had split Elrohir's arrow doing it.

Elrohir laughed and gave Legolas a sidelong look, "Looks like the honours belong to Mirkwood and Lorien!" He clapped both Rumil and Legolas on the back, "You owe me a new arrow, but for now I think a wine skin at the Green Dragon will suffice. Drinks on you two!"

Cheers went up from all involved, and Legolas and Rumil soaked up the congratulations from many. Legolas caught Gimli's eye again and the Elf said, "Friend Gimli, do I have your congratulations!" eyes snapping with mischief and affection.

Gimli harrumphed, "Not that you need anything to make that head of yours any bigger...but well done, lad, I knew you had it from the start."

Legolas laughed and placed his arm around his friend as they walked towards the pub.

Many that day, either elves or men or hobbits retired to the Green Dragon for a bit of refreshment and to talk of what they had just seen and that day did not dim in the memory of many that were there, and the feats of Elven archery were retold many times and in many ways.

*************
**Tangado a chahad! = Prepare to fire!

**Hado i philinn! = Release the arrows!

** = direct quote from either book or film screenplay.

Chapter 7- An honour bestowed

The morning of Elanor's Tadaura started with a bustle of activity. The makeshift targets from yesterday's archery competition were cleared away and tables and chairs were being set up on the Party Field. Gamma Cotton had come over with the food that she had been preparing over the last week to help with the last minute preparations.

Three different spice cakes had been prepared along with the special Tadaura candy flavoured with aniseed that had to be made in advance in order for it to cool and season properly. Small meat pies with carrots, peas and potatoes had been left to cool overnight. Mushroom and onion tartlets completed the many finger foods that were going to adorn the tables before the proper sit down portion of the celebration began. Many casks of ale had been ordered specially from the Golden Perch and no small quality of wine had been laid in for those guests who were of an Elven persuasion.

Rosie marshaled the various comings and goings with the talent of a battle commander, with only a few meat pies and tartlets and casks of ale going missing. In fact she did know where they had gone, but trying to separate hobbit men from fresh mushroom tartlets was well-nigh impossible. Might as well try stop the Brandywine River flowing, you'd have about as much luck! Rosie thought as she counted three less tartlets than she had had a hour ago, shaking her head.

Eowyn and Arwen were packing the wicker basket sitting on the table with the little meat pies that had just been brought up from the pantry by Faramir, who, receiving his next set of orders had gone to around up Elladan and Elrohir to move the casks of ale and wine from the storeroom to the cart for transport to the Party Field. Sam had been very nervous about Rosie employing the White Lady of Rohan and the Elven Queen of Gondor as kitchen help over the last couple of days, but Rosie had explained very calmly that they had both asked to help and as Rosie had been noticing the troubled look in Arwen's eyes she felt it was best to give the Lady something to occupy her time. Part of what ailed her, Rosie could not say, but she had noticed something of a strain between her and Aragorn when they had first arrived. Rosie thought, she has been looking at wits end, poor dear and it can only help to keep her busy and feeling useful. It is the best thing really her hobbit good sense told her. In looking at Arwen, who was sitting down due to the fact that she was well-gone with child, Rosie thought she was right in accepting Arwen's offer of help, she had more colour in her cheeks and her eyes looked lively as she gently laughed at something Eowyn had just said.

At that moment, the door to the basement burst opened and Merry fell into the room spilling a wooden box filled with green tablecloths and silver mugs. He quickly righted himself and dusting off his waistcoat said simply, "Door was stuck" by way of explanation for his less than gracefully entrance.

A laugh came from just inside the basement door and Aragorn emerged carrying the second box that Bag End's mistress had asked for, "And it had nothing to do with the fact that you have two left feet, would it!"

The former ranger twinkled at Rosie, who laughed, saying, "Merry, I think that you make yourself purposefully useless so I will send you from the kitchen to avoid further havoc."

"Well, has it worked?" Merry asked hopefully.

"No!" Rosie chuckled, "Now get out there and help Faramir load the cart! Honestly!" She looked at Aragorn slightly aggrieved, "I don't know how you achieved anything during the Ring War with Merry and Pippin at your side. Disasters waiting to happen, they are." she said looking at Merry.

Aragorn laughed, "Well, they had their uses."

Rosie hmphed as if she found that hard to believe and slapped Merry's hand as it was reaching for yet another mushroom and onion tartlet, "Scoot!" and she whapped his backside in the direction she wanted him to move.

Merry, all wounded pride and innocence, retorted, "All right! I'm going!"

"And take Pippin with you! I'm not sure where he is, but he's bound to be shirking some sort of work in favour of a good smoke," Rosie called.

As Rosie was dressing down Merry, Aragorn had gone over to the table where Eowyn and Arwen were working. She looked back at the table and caught Aragorn placing a hand on Arwen's shoulder which she instinctively bent her head closer to his hand and then looked up at him to smile, their eyes locking, Aragorn reaching an unthinking hand to stroke Arwen's raven black hair. They had clearly forgotten the presence of anybody else in the room. Rosie saw that the earlier tensions were obviously starting to lessen, but she also felt they still needed a bit of help. She interrupted gaily, "Aragorn, Arwen, we're almost finished in here and we still need some blossoms to use as decorations for the tables. Could you go and pick some boughs in the woods past the gate." She said holding out a large wicker flower basket.

Aragorn embarrassed to realise he'd forgotten there were other people in the room immediately said, "Of course we will." and started to help Arwen up from her cushioned seat on the bench. Arwen looked at Rosie, eyes smiling and twinkling just a bit. Rosie returned the smile warmly as she watched them leave hand in hand, flower basket lying forgotten on the table.

Eowyn watched them leaving, and said knowingly, "We're not done in here, are we?"

Rosie turned back the White Lady of Rohan, whom she had begun to think of as a friend, "Oh no, not by a long shot! But I just thought they needed the time alone more than we needed the help. "

"I think so, too. Something has been troubling the two of them. Faramir has been concerned of late about Aragorn, but he is unsure of what to do."

Rosie said looking at the door, "I think they are starting to work it out, I think they just need time," she finished thoughtfully, then turning her mind to the task at hand, "Which by the way, is something we don't have a great deal of! Poppy!" She called for the dark-haired maid, "Get in here and take this basket to the cart where the boys are! And make sure that Mr. Pippin and Mr. Merry do not eat the lot before we get it to the Party Field. I swear those two could eat us out of house and home if we let them!"

"Full well do I know what you mean! Every time Pippin and Merry have visited Emyn Arnen the cooks have flown into a panic thinking their storerooms will be laid bare. Oh, but they are dear ones, though." Eowyn laughed merrily, her eyes flashing.

Rosie chuckled, "Well, they do slip into your heart, that I'll warranted them that." she shook her head, "Well now, what else?"

***

Earlier that morning...

While walking to the creek, Sam knew it was best to get out Rosie's hair when she was in battle commander mode so he took the time to search out Frodo. He has become increasingly concerned over the amount of time Frodo spent alone and he decided that it was best not to allow Frodo alone to fret anymore than could be helped. Rosie could easily handle things without Sam fussing over every last detail. It was one of the things that he loved about her. Her confidence and strength and level headedness were always amazing to Sam. They made a wonderful partnership he mused and they had made a equally wonderful daughter, he thought as he spied little Eleanor, still wearing the unwilted flower that Celeborn had made for her in her blond curly hair, walk over to Frodo and hand him a bunch of weeds...er ...flowers that she had just yanked out of the ground. He looked at her and took them distractedly, again lost in thoughts that Sam did not ever want to ponder. She tried to again to gain his attention by grabbing a dandelion from where she was standing and tried putting it in his hair. This time he was shaken from his troubled reverie to really look at her. He cleared a few blond strands away from her tiny face and the smile he gave her as she giggled, chased the away the shadows that too often threatened and he proceeded to tickle her into squealing submission.

"She is truly a wonder, Sam," Sam turned and saw Gandalf walking up just behind him.

"She takes after her mother, that's why." Sam replied staring after Frodo and little Elanor.

Gandalf looked at the young hobbit and marveled at his inability to see his own good qualities. "She takes after you," the Maia averred gently, "She gives love freely and never expects anything in return. Frodo responds to that. As he always has." Gandalf said pointedly.

"He comes alive with her, and sometimes only with her." Sam said a concerned look crossing his face, looking up at Gandalf. "It warms my heart to see it and yet..." Sam stopped unsure of how put into words what he was feeling. He looked again at Gandalf, "Why only her, sometimes," Sam finished hurt evident in his voice. "I sound like a horrible father, jealous of his own daughter."

Gandalf waited for the stout little hobbit to stop berating himself before he answered, "Can you not think why, Samwise?"

"No,"came the upset, uncomprehending reply.

"Because," Gandalf began gently, "He doesn't have to remember with her. With her he is simply Uncle Frodo. There is no blame, no fault, no thought that he has failed, or so he thinks. He can be himself with her and forget times past. With everyone else he is forced to remember."

"But he did not fail! He more than succeeded and he tried so hard!" Sam's voice came vehement voicing the arguments that he so often had with Frodo in the early days after the Ring War, "He endured so much!" Tears came to Sam's eyes as they always did when he thought about everything his dear master had braved.

"I know, Sam. I know that and you know that, and I think even Frodo, at least part of the time knows it, but you see when the shadow falls upon him he thinks he failed. Claiming the ring at the end and having it torn from him, to him says failure. Also there is a small part of him that still needs the Ring, even though he knows full well that it had to be destroyed and he can't forgive himself for that yearning."

"Each anniversary" Sam weighted the word with unfortunate, but unavoidable meaning, "is harder for him to bear than the last. I'm scared Mr. Gandalf."

Sam looked at the Maia, earnest eyes searching ageless ones for an answer but shying away from the one he saw there, unwilling to accept the possibility. "Is there nothing to be done?" he asked uselessly.
Gandalf gently replied, "All that can be done will be done. The rest is up to Frodo," placing an arm around the stouthearted little hobbit. Sam nodded and looked at Frodo playing with little Elanor, "Let us leave them."

Frodo saw Gandalf and Sam walk away talking, and felt somewhat aggrieved. He looked at little Elanor, "They talking boring talk again, aren't they my little flower bud. Why can't people mind what their own business." As soon as he said it he felt bad and knew that he shouldn't say such things. They were only concerned. He understood that. What they could not understand, what they could not see was how empty he felt inside. Sam was constantly telling that he was too hard on himself. That in no way was he a failure. Frodo wanted to believe him. He wanted to feel whole again, but he did not. He could not. When he thought about what happened at the crack of Mount Doom, it brought only shame. He had claimed the Ring, the one thing that he had swore he would not do. As he reached up with his right hand to finger the jewel at his neck he caught sight of three fingers and a thumb. If it had not been for Gollum ...he closed his eyes and stopped that train of thought through a sheer force of will. It did not do to dwell, he told himself.

It was Elanor's Tadaura today and he refused to dwell, well any more than he had already, Frodo thought ruefully. He looked back to Elanor, gathered her in and gave her a hug and a kiss. He looked the little smiling child with the big blue eyes and wistfully recalled what it was like to have a memory untainted by...certain things. He supposed that's why he spent so much time with the sunny child. She reminded him of a time when he also had been as innocent as she. So much had been lost and much had been gained both good and bad. Sam is always saying that time heals all wounds, Frodo sighed, I would like to think that it is true, but I just don't know.

He had been very happy to see all of his friends again. It had done him a world of good rehashing happy times and creating new ones. Frodo smiled as he thought of two nights ago in the Green Dragon. A great time had been had by all, himself included. Of course the morning after had had its drawback but it had been worth it. He had felt himself again, if only for a few hours. Frodo knew he needed to put this morning's thoughts aside and he was determined to be happy today. He stood up and looked about the meadow and felt the cool breeze of the early Shire spring. He felt the re-born life around him and the little girl's hand in his. He would fight this thing, today was not a day for giving up. Today was a day for re-affirming life and not dwelling on past mistakes and failures. Taking a deep breathe Frodo purposefully strode back to the house to see if there was anything else he could do in preparations for the party, strong in the resolution to ignore the small shadow growing on his heart.

***

The Party Field looked festive and gay. The early spring sunlight settled upon the field and the gentle golden beauty of the Mallorn tree in the first budding of spring colours lent a special radiance to the air. Tables laden with the meat pies and mushroom tartlets, among other foods that been prepared specially, had been set up around the perimeter of the field and the area in the middle left open for dancing. It was Poppy's job to give out the special Tadaura candy to all the little hobbit boys and girls and a few of the bigger ones. Rosie, Gamma Cotton and Eowyn were flitting about to make sure that everything was as it should be and nobody was left wanting. All of Hobbiton and a fair few from Bywater had been invited along with the guests staying at Bag End. There was dancing and talking and much ale drinking to be done before the presentation and blessing from one of the family.

Elanor, dressed in her prettiest little frock of yellow linen and lace, was a picture to behold. Her hair had been brushed until it shone and Celeborn's flower was placed securely behind one ear. Her blue eyes glowed with excitement looking at the crowd from on high as Legolas carried her on his shoulders weaving his way through the mostly hobbit sized crowd towards Sam, Rosie, who had just sat down and Frodo sitting at the head table under the Mallorn tree. "My little flower bud!" exclaimed Frodo, "How high up in the tree you bloom!"

Legolas laughed, "Aye! She is my little blossom!" He reached up and gently lifted Elanor from his shoulders and placed her on the ground, kneeling as he did so. "Aye, Gil-dithen nín!" the elf's eyes shining and his voice musical, "We've had a wonderful time exploring all round the Party Field, haven't we?" he said, looking into the little girl's merry blue depths. At that Elanor kissed Legolas on the cheek and threw her arms around him. Legolas laughed joyously, hugging the child and returning the kiss on a soft rosy cheek, "Oh Gil-dithen lend nín! Scoot back to your parents now."

Instead she made a beeline for Frodo and clambered up to sit on his lap. "Oh I see," Rosie said, "Can't be bothered with mum when Uncle Frodo is about." feigning hurt, but with eyes twinkling approval.

"What can I say? My little flower bud has come back to her favourite honeybee! Bzzz! Bzzz!" Frodo exclaimed happily. Elanor giggled at the bee sounds emanating from her favourite uncle. Frodo was completely captivated.

The band struck up a reel and Frodo bounced the little girl on his lap, saying, "How would you like to dance?" Elanor gurgled her approval for such an idea. So the dark-haired Hobbit and the small blond angel went out onto the grassy area and began to dance, Elanor's feet lightly on top of Frodo's as he guided them through the music. Frodo laughed to see the look of sheer delight on the little child's face as they danced, the shadows retreating completely for a while.

***

The dancing and gaiety continued unabated for the better part of the afternoon with the food, ale and wine flowing freely. Eowyn's gay laugh was heard among the crowd as she tried gamefully to dance with Merry in one of the more intricate hobbit country dances involving much ducking under the arm of one's partner. Needlessly to say the results were not as graceful as was usual from the participants in the dance, but the spirit in which it was performed was not lacking a whit. Faramir sat on the ground admiring his wife's determination, if not her graceful flow across the green grass, and grinned, sipping the last content of his mug, when Frodo and Pippin, carrying a small cask on his shoulder, sat down at his side. Pippin noticing the empty state of the Steward's mug, cried, "You've got to try this." He took Faramir's mug and ran the tap of the cask until the froth was pouring down the side of the mug then passed it back Faramir's waiting hand.

He had a quick gulp and savored the strong, yet slightly sweet brew. Pondering the slightly off-white froth clearing to reveal a darkish amber liquid, Faramir said, "Mmmm, now that's a fine ale!" taking another taste, a look of pleasure again crossing his face.

Frodo laughed and said, "You've got to love a man who respects a fine brew!"

"It is the brew from the Year of Plenty," Pippin chimed in, "Frodo laid by a nice store of it and still has a fair few casks left."

Faramir slapped Frodo on the back saying, "You know, I don't think I visit you nearly enough!" Frodo laughed. And they all sat back and watched Merry and Eowyn...err..dance. The music ended and the two determined dance partners joined the little group sitting on the grass.

Pippin said to Merry, "That was truly impressive. You dancing. Does the phrase pig-on-stilts have any meaning for you!"

Frodo chimed in, "No, we shouldn't be so hard on the poor boy. After all, two left feet is a handicap that Merry's worked hard to overcome." He got up quickly to avoid the blow that he knew would be forth coming. Merry's hand grabbed for a spare acorn and it glanced off Frodo's nose to the amusement of all, including Frodo as he rubbed his nose ruefully and sat down again.

Faramir laughed and then turned his attention on his wife, "You were, as ever, graceful as a gazelle, my love," Faramir said, a mischievous glint in his eye, leaning over and kissing her flushed face, "one that's seven months pregnant and about to foal that is." Eowyn quickly whapped him upside the head, laughing, "Troll!"

Faramir feigned innocence, "Pippin, Frodo! Merry! Take note! There is no pleasing a woman! You give them a simple compliment and you get beat for your troubles!" Eowyn eyed him through slits. Faramir laughed, "Very well, I will make amends. Try this!" He handed her his mug of ale. She eyed him suspiciously but took a drink, immediately her eyes lit in appreciation of fine ale. "This is delicious! Where did you get it?"

Frodo said, "It's from the crop of the Year of Plenty!"

Eowyn took another gulp and handed the mug back to Faramir who immediately took a drink and closed in for another kiss from his wife, this time slightly longer, "Hmmm, tastes even better this way!" Faramir concluded, as they broke apart, his gentle blue eyes fired with delight and focused on Eowyn. Eowyn flushed, "My lord!" smiling and bending in again for another ale-flavoured kiss.

Frodo's heart twisted just a little bit looking at the two. He was unsure if he would ever have what Faramir and Eowyn seemed to have for each other. He could not be happier for them and could not think of two people who deserved happiness more but it still panged a bit. He, of course, said none of this and instead teasingly said, "Love birds! I tell you, Pip, it's disgusting! We'll not get a word of sense from them now!" Frodo beamed at the couple. The two broke apart slightly embarrassed.

Faramir stood up and said "Why don't we all have a dance!" he suggested holding his hand down to Eowyn, as the next jig started up.

***

The afternoon wore on to more merriment, not only did the little group on sitting on the grass dance many dances, but Celeborn and Galadriel were seen on dancing upon the grass alongside Sam and Rosie. Frodo danced with various partners and laughed like he had not laughed in quite a while, which went a fair way to lifting the spirits of all that knew him.

Just before the sit down proportion of the meal came time for little Elanor to be presented to the community. The tradition said that she be presented by her parents or an especial loved one as chosen by the parents to be given into the community of hobbits to mark the occasion of her second birthday and safe passage from infancy into childhood. Sam and Rosie had discussed earlier who it would be. Actually there was not much discussion, the choice made itself, really.

Frodo did not know that they had decided to bestow this special honour unto him until Sam walked over to him at the start of the rite and asked, "Mr. Frodo, would you present little Elanor, it would mean a lot to both Rosie and I."

Frodo's blue eyes grew large, filled with tears and happiness as he said through a throat suddenly too tight to manage more than a whisper, "Oh Sam!" He gulped once and continued in a slightly clearer voice, "I would be honoured." He bent to pick up little Elanor. "Come on, my little sweet pea!" and with Sam and Rosie walked past his many friends to the spot where the presentations had always been done. Right under the Mallorn tree. Granted it was now a different tree that lent its shade to the field but the spot remained the same. Frodo stood under the branches of the communal tree and made a little speech, as was custom. There were few set words for the presentation. The only real requirement was that they be spoken from the heart.

Frodo cleared his throat and spoke in a voice as clear as he could make it, "I wasn't expecting to be doing this, but I am honoured all the same." he paused, thought and then started up again, "My dear friends have come into my house and made it a home. Into that home they brought the most special present they could possibly have given me." At this he looked at little Elanor in his arms and kissed her on the forehead. "After this sweet little treasure was born, Sam and I discussed what to name her, I suggested Elanor for the beautiful little flowers that grew in far-away Lothlorien. I could never have guessed that my little flower bud here would grow to so resemble those sprightly flowers, so tiny, so beautiful and golden. But I supposed I shouldn't be surprised, thinking that two of the kindest people I have ever known are her parents." Frodo looked at Sam and Rosie and saw that they both were beamingly happy, bashful tears streaming down Sam's face. Frodo gulped to keep tears from streaming down his own. He looked into smiling blue depths of Elanor's eyes said, "Elanor, my sweet little flower bud, may the community love and protect you." he turned to look at the assembled guests. "May the community of her friends and family guide her steps so that she can grow to be everything she was meant to be." Elanor's delighted squeal burst through the aura of solemnity and everyone laughed and severally exclaimed their congratulations for the happy family.

Frodo walked back to Sam and Rosie and their gathered friends. Sam looked bashfully at Frodo and dashed the tears from his eyes, struggling for the right words, finding none eloquent enough, he blurted out, "That was beautiful, Mr. Frodo! Thank you!"

Frodo's face crumbled and wide-eyed with tears he said, "No, Sam. Thank you! I meant every word." He smiled and hugged Sam as best he could seeing as he still held little Elanor in one arm.
Gimli walked up, his eyes suspiciously bright and said gruffly, "That was beautiful and straight from the heart, lad."

Legolas stood beside Gimli, tear tracts evident on his fair face, "Beautifully done, Frodo." his quietly musical voice said, he reached out to stroke little Elanor's golden hair saying, "Gil-dithen lend nin! you are part of the community now, spread that laughter where ever you go!" Elanor graced him with a smile and then a great big yawn.

"Oh dear," Rosie said, "I see a little missus is getting tired, well it has been a long day for you, hasn't it." She reached for and Frodo delivered the tot into her mother's arms, "I think that it is time for a nap, Hmmm! What do you say?" Elanor yawned again as if in answer to her mother's question. "Come on, sweetheart, I'll take you for a little nap!"

Just as they were about to leave, Arwen caught her arm, saying, "Do you mind if I come?"

Rosie said, "Certainly, if you chose," looking a little confused, Arwen had never asked such a thing before.

Arwen turn to Aragorn, looked into his eyes and then kissed him on the cheek, and then followed Rosie to the little tent that had been specially set up for naps for the overtired young ones.

Faramir stepped to Aragorn's side, saying, "What was that about?"

Aragorn looked rather non-plussed and looking after his wife walking with Rosie, said truthfully, "I have no idea, but I suppose in the fullness of time we may find out. Or not." At this he turned to give Sam his congratulations.

It came time for the sit down portion of the celebration and plate upon plate were set before the celebrants . Sam and Rosie continued to soak up the congratulations from all comers graciously. All ate until it seemed they could eat no more, and a very glad time was had by all. It was a celebration in true hobbit style.

***********

Chapter 8 - Truths are spoken

At dawn the next morning

Arwen sat up in bed and looked around the cozily appointed bedroom that Frodo had given them for their use during this stay and noticed Aragorn standing in his sleeping attire, or at least the bottoms of them, he very rarely wore the tops. He looked out of the round window perfectly still. She noticed the determined set of his shoulders, it was the stance he often held when pondering a task that he deemed difficult or troubling. She negotiated her way out of bed and walked over to where he stood to put an arm around him. She looked up at him as he drew her to him, "My love, what has you so pensive this morning?"

At first Aragorn did not answer, he simply held her tighter and then said, "You should not be up this early. You need your sleep."

Arwen said teasingly, "Come back to bed and then I will sleep! The babe grows restless and would be talk to be his father before he settles back into slumber."

Aragorn turned to her and said, "Are you and the babe quite well?" His eyes held an urgency that Arwen did not quite understand and a small flutter of panic flared quickly and then stilled itself
.
She said, "We are well."

A small sigh of relief was sounded and it seemed like Aragorn was pondering some very weighty issues in his mind from the furrowed brow and pensive look on his face. He seemed to make some sort of internal decision and the panic within Arwen flared again. He looked at her, his face full of emotion. Arwen stood looking into his stormy eyes awaiting she knew not what.

"I know that we have never talked of this before, but what passed between you and your father the night before we parted in Rohan. I don't mean to pry," he said apologetically, "but I must know. I would know everything that has caused you pain. If I do not, then how else am I supposed to ease it for you." Arwen stood looking at him with a curious expression, one caught between confusion and compassion as she watched her beloved. Aragorn stumbled awkwardly though his explanation, "I would not have the silence grow between us again, it would pain me greatly and I cannot stand idly by as you slip from me daily." Aragorn stood and watched Arwen's expression change from one of confusion to one of understanding.

"Is that what this is about?' Arwen asked carefully. Aragorn nodded. She reached up to stroke Aragorn's pepper and salt dark hair gently. A pained expression crossed her face, "My heart, I love you more than I can ever say and love you even the more for trying to help me through this burden. But it is mine to face…alone. I must find my own way through."

"I must be allowed to do something for you, Guren! Please do not shut me out! I cannot bear it! Let me help you!"

"There is nothing you can do." With that Arwen shuttered her thoughts within her own breast, "Come back to bed, my love." Aragorn looked her, saw the fragility of her spirit and indomitable force of her will, then allowed her to lead him back their bed where he gently held her, spoon like, stroking her hair and whispering Elven melodies into her ear to provide what comfort he could. Eventually she found sleep, but Aragorn was not so lucky. He had planned to leave today for Rivendell to speak with Elrond as Galadriel had suggested, but he felt that he could not take such a step without first consulting Arwen. That had been the point behind his asking about their last meeting. It was to be a way of leading into an explanation of why he was going to go to Rivendell. But somehow the conversation never took that turn. His heart was heavy as he felt cast adrift. She was everything to him and he was losing her. The mere thought was ripping his soul into shreds.

***

As dawn gave way to mid-morning, all was quiet at Bag End. Given the activities of the last few days it was not all surprising. The decision last night as the last revelers left the Party Field was that the clear away could indeed wait until at least afternoon. The most of the guests and permanent inhabitants of Bag End kept to their rooms and only the occasional shuffle from behind bedroom doors could be heard.

One however did stir from behind closed doors and ventured out into the dappled morning sunshine. Galadriel needed to get away and seek the morning to revel in the peace and quiet of the woods. She had found a low-slung tree branch that was crying out to be sat upon and there she whiled away the better part of an hour, humming softly songs that she had learned as a young elf about the singing of the earth and the quiet that existed before Time began. It was in this state that she was caught unawares by approaching footfalls.

Arwen, like her grandmother, was seeking solace in the trees of this strange but fair land. She needed to get away from Aragorn and his questioning gaze. She could not make him understand that it was not anything that he could help her with. She walked along soaking up the life force of the wood, when she suddenly stopped short seeing her grandmother sitting in the crook of a tree.

"Einnaneth! I'm sorry if I have disturbed you!"

Galadriel quickly said, "You are not disturbing me at all, Melldanya! In fact I am glad that you have happened by. It has indeed been a long time since we have spent any time together. Come and sit down." She motioned to a little green patch near the low tree branch where she had been sitting.

As Arwen settled down as best she could, Galadriel murmured, "It is so beautiful here, so young and alive!" her face turned to the warmth of the sun. She then looked at her granddaughter, who was looking pensive, and her heart went out to her. "You look sad, you are not happy with Aragorn?"

Arwen looked a bit shocked at the abruptness of the statement, but then thought Galadriel was nothing if not direct. "Yes, I mean No! I am happy with him!"

"Forgive my saying so, but you look anything but happy at this moment. What ails you, my child?" Galadriel knew all too well, but she needed Arwen to realise it for herself.

"I am happy!" Arwen insisted, attempting to hold the Lady's gaze, "I love Aragorn and I do not regret my choice," she stated in a low fervent voice suddenly full of conviction. "But I do have regrets." She admitted in a rather small voice.

"Have you told Aragorn of these regrets?"

"No! I cannot! It would burden him too much to know and I cannot do that to him." Arwen said in a rush tearing her gaze away from her grandmother. "Besides it is my problem and I must find a way through it, myself. I made this choice and I must find a way to accept it," she said with a stubbornness that reminded Galadriel a great deal of her father.

Galadriel sighed, "Arwen, look at me. There are a few things that I must tell you." When she saw that her granddaughter was caught up her own thoughts, Galadriel's voice became stern and she commanded that Arwen faced her. Unwillingly the young woman looked up into the ageless blue of Galadriel's eyes.

Galadriel disliked using such influence upon her beloved granddaughter, but at times it was necessary. "I understand why you say you must work through this choice yourself, it is admirable but completely misguided and will do harm if you continue in this way. This path that you are choosing is plunging a knife through Aragorn's heart and soul. He loves you and every time you turn away from him, you drive it in just that much further." She paused to allow these words to settled in, "Let him into all of your heart, Arwen, allow him to feel your pain with you and offer what help he may. He needs this."

Arwen looked at her grandmother wide-eyed, she had been so busy wrapped up in her own pain and regrets that she had never stopped to think to of what this might be doing to Aragorn, at length she cried, "Oh, the Valar be merciful! What have I done?" She thought of this morning and what he had been obviously trying to do for her and tears came to her eyes. She remembered the pain she saw in his eyes when she told him there was nothing he could do and she remembered his next action, to hold her in his arms and sing her to sleep. Arwen choked back a sob and raising her child-laden body as quickly as she could, she exclaimed, "I must go to him, I must find him, now." She saw her past behaviour for the vanity it was, borne out of pride and arrogance. She bid her grandmother goodbye and went as quickly she could manage back to Bag End.

***

She entered the kitchen, which was still very quiet, save Poppy the maid who was stirring a newly made broth to be had for Teatime that day. "Excuse me, Poppy, but have you seen my husband?"

"Aye! My lady. He took off early this morning said he was going for a quick ride, but I noticed that his saddle bags were full." Fear slashed through Arwen. Surely the little maid was mistaken; he was indeed only out for a morning ride to clear his head.

"My lady?" said a voice from behind her. She turned to see Faramir, looking at her with an expression of regret in his gentle blue eyes. He turned his attention briefly to the bustling maid, "Poppy, would you mind giving us a moment or two. Thank you." The maid bobbed a small curtsey hobbit style and made her way to the door. He looked back to Arwen noticed that she was very still, staring intently at him. Faramir said as gently as he could, "He asked me to tell you that he's left but he will return and that he loves you very much. And he left you this as an assurance of his promise." He held out a silver-wrought ring of ancient artistry set with a green stone. She knew it as the Ring of Barahir and the ring that she given back to him on their wedding day to wear as the restored King of Gondor and Arnor. She knew that he would never be separated from this ring for very long and would return faithfully. She reached out a trembling hand to receive the ring, gazed upon it briefly and then hold it tight in her fist.

Faramir saw all the colour drain from Arwen's all ready pale face and was immediately at her side to help her into the nearest chair, "Where did he go, Faramir? Did he tell you?" a small yet dignified voice.

Faramir looked away, "No, my lady. He did not." There was an unnatural and uncharacteristic tenor in his voice that caused Arwen to doubt his words.

"Faramir, look at me." The Steward reluctantly turned his head back toward his queen, his eyes full of compassion and pain. "Faramir, he did tell you, didn't he?" The Steward remained silent; unwillingly to break his lord's confidence, but regretful that he was causing his lady pain. "But he asked you not to tell me." A look of chagrin crossed Faramir's face that she had guessed this much.

Arwen's mind whirled where could he have gone? She could never ask Faramir to break his confidence with Aragorn and she was not sure that he would, even for her. As she thought, the early morning conversation with Aragorn drifted into her head. With a flash she looked at her silent Steward and knew the only place his king could have gone. "Imladris, he has gone to see my father," she whispered. Faramir cast his gaze downward so to that she would not see the truth of her guessing in his eyes. Arwen put a comforting hand on his shoulder, "Ease your heart, my dear friend, you have broken no confidence."

Faramir did not say anything, but a certain tension left his body. In truth, he was glad she had guessed correctly, for even as Aragorn had spoken the word, he had not thought it right to keep such information from Arwen. But having been so bidden he could not reveal it or even willingly confirm Arwen's correct assumption. He was the king's to command and that oath was life to Faramir. He glanced back at Arwen. She was sitting stock still as if unsure of what this new information meant.

In truth she was unsure. She had come seeking her husband to apologise for her arrogance and her lack of trust in him, her heart breaking over the harm that she had wrought upon him with her own selfish actions. Now he had left without consulting her, but then she realized that he must have been trying to do just that early this morning when he had asked about what had gone on between her and Elrond on the day before their wedding. She thought back on that scene four years ago.

***

Four years earlier in Rohan…

Arwen had been told that Elrond was up in the ramparts and she had purposefully sought him. She needed to speak with him before her wedding on the morrow. She felt it most important that she make him understand why she was doing what she was doing.

"Daughter, why do you seek me?" Elrond spoke without turning around and even before she was halfway from the door that lead onto the ramparts. Arwen winced as she heard his voice, so full of pain and loss.

"Forgive me for disturbing you, ada. I just had to see you." To make you understand why I'm doing what I am doing.

Elrond turned, eyes flashing an anger conjured to obscure the intense pain that had settled in his eyes, "There now you have seen me! You can go away happy now!" he stormed.

"! Will not you please listen!" Arwen said in an anguished low voice.

"To what! To the fact that you will marry Aragorn, whether I will it or no, and die in utter sadness after his life is spent. How can I listen to that! How can I be asked to accept that!" Elrond's legendary icy control of his emotions broke at that point and he poured out the pain of his heart. "My beloved daughter, the Evenstar of her people, choosing willing to extinguish that bright, shimmering light that is hers alone and deny the destiny of her people! Is that what you want me to listen to. Is that what you want me to accept!!"

Arwen at the end of this onslaught, crumbled onto the stone bench that ran along the length of the rampart and sobbed, "Gerich veleth nin, ada**!!"

Elrond looked upon his sobbing daughter sitting upon the bench, his heart ached but yet he could not go to her and ease her suffering, I have given and given for the sake of Middle Earth only to have the thing I most treasured taken from me, Elrond thought bitterly. He walked over and placed a hand on her shoulder, and said a voice strained with anguish and resignation, "I'm sorry that my displeasure falls so heavy upon your heart, but alas I cannot change, In this final thing I am immovable. Namarie! Melldanya!" With this he kissed the top of her head and quietly stole away, leaving his daughter to her tears.

***

"My Lady!" She heard Faramir's worried voice break into her thoughts, "My Lady! Are you quite well?" Arwen shook from her reverie to see the Steward of Gondor looking at her with utmost concern written on that kind, intelligent face. "You were just staring and I could not rouse you!"

She turned eyes filled with such infinite sadness upon Faramir that it broke his heart to behold them. She raised a hand to caress the young Steward's cheek, "He's goes upon a fool's errand, Faramir. He will find no welcome in Imladris! Only heartache," she said in a small faraway voice. She closed her eyes as if to blink away both memory and thought. She seemed rouse herself slightly saying, "I'm sorry that I caused you concern, Faramir. It was not my intention," concluded the Queen of Gondor with much dignity, "I find that I am tired and need to rest."

*********

Chapter 9 - A Heart Laid Bare

Earlier that morning…

Aragorn sat his horse through sheer instinct and years of long practice, his mind and heart elsewhere, seized by a despair, the likes of which he had never known. He had only one thought since Arwen fell asleep in his arms earlier. He must get to Rivendell and he must make Elrond see sense and finally give his acceptance of their marriage. To Aragorn's mind it was now the only thing that would stop Arwen from slipping away from him. He would succeed in this. He must. He was clear enough in mind earlier to find Faramir and explain what little he could to his faithful Steward and to leave his ring as token of return. Faramir, at first insisted on going with him, claiming he was in no fit state to be traveling alone. Aragorn mused ruefully, Faramir was right. He was in no fit state, but that could not be helped but by this action that he took now, alone. He finally impressed that upon the younger man but not without great effort. His mouth turned up one corner at the thought.

Faintly in the distance, he thought he heard approaching horses, elven by their sounds, coming from the direction of Hobbiton. He pulled up the trot that Hasufel had been holding and turned peering, into the distant miles he had left behind him. He saw two figures kicking up dust and coming towards him quickly. He sensed more than saw who it was as the distance between them collapsed.

"Mae Govannen! Mindoreg! You left without saying good-bye!" his dark-haired elven foster brother, Elladan said with some forced lightness.

"I've not left!" Aragorn stated somewhat aggrieved at having his solitude disrupted.

"Oh, you hear that, 'Roh, he's not left."

"Could have fooled me. I did not realise that this was the sitting room at Bag End?" said Elladan's twin allowing his horse to trace a circle around the other two horses.

"What I mean is that I'm going to come back, but there is something that I need to take care of first." Aragorn stated somewhat feebly. He loved these two elves, they had always been there for him while he was growing up, supporting him, teaching him, teasing him. These two were always there to provide love and light and much laughter in his life. He always missed them terribly when they went away on patrol with the Rangers of the north and he always counted the days until they would return from missions. Those welcome home days had always been filled with much joy for the young foster son of Lord Elrond.

"Something you need to take care of first! Now what might that be! Hmmmm! Forgot to lock the gates of the Citadel before you left?" Elladan looked pointedly at Aragorn who continued to glare at him. Elladan sobered up, "We'll not let you face Adar alone. Or at least," he amended, "we'll not let you make the journey by yourself. Mithreneg nin!" he ended gently.

Aragorn noted the use of the nickname that Elladan had coined when Aragorn was a child. It meant "My little gray one" Elladan had not called him that in years beyond count, but curiously it did not rankled as one might think it would. It felt comforting and loving. "How do you know where I'm bound?" Aragorn could not conceive of Faramir breaking a confidence.

"Well, we are Elves you know. We can sense these things!" Elladan stated grandly.

"And we overheard you talking to Faramir," Elrohir admitted and had the decency to look a little shamefaced. "Let us stay with you. We'd like to be here with you." An unabashed look of brotherly love and longing shone through his eyes.

Aragorn was touched more than he'd care to admit and it meant a lot to him that Arwen's brothers, his foster brothers cared and obviously approved of Arwen's decision, even if they possibly did not understand it. They both sat on their horses watching and waiting for his decision. He could tell by the way they held themselves that they desperately wanted to come with him. He sighed, "I suppose that I should be glad of some company on this trip. I can only hope that your abilities to cook have improved somewhat, 'Dan."

The twins visibly relaxed, and Elrohir chimed up, "Alas, they have not! Shame really!" a big smile cracking his face as Elladan shot him a glare. Aragorn laughed and then sobered putting his hand on his heart bowing his head, "Hannon le, muindyr nin!" They both simply smiled and the three continued along the Road together.

***

Arwen slipped through the mists of sleep and found herself on a hilltop near Edoras weeping yet again, sitting there sobbing after her father's departure. Boundless sorrow filled her, creating within a rip in her soul's vibrant fabric; the ends fraying. She tried to knit them together but each strand she touched disintegrated into nothing, leaving a cloying blackness in its place. She cried out, "Ada! Aragorn! Don't leave me!" But both looked at her sorrowfully and turn their backs and striding into the shadow. It was only when a hand touched her shoulder and she opened her eyes and she saw Galadriel bending over her, wiping her brow that she realised she had shouted the words aloud, reliving the dream she had had every night since Aragorn had left. She looked at her beloved Einnaneth and shame along with tears came to her eyes. Galadriel hugged her and dried her eyes. Finally, as Galadriel rocked her gently, softly singing, Arwen found sleep again, this time a dreamless one.

***

A few days later…

Frodo sat by the kitchen table smoking on his pipe and listening the conversation around him. He thought that they would all do well to leave off their talking and decide if any course of action was possible, because all this talking was getting them exactly nowhere. It was understandable that they were concerned about Arwen, but no amount of talking was going to change the fact that Arwen was wasting away and rebuffed all attempts to ease her out of her sorrows. She had not eaten in days and had spoken very little since Faramir informed her that Aragorn had gone. Her nights had been disturbed; she laid tossing and turning seemingly in the thrall of dreams that would not allow her to rest.

Frodo knew something of what she suffered. Perhaps of all that now inhabited Bag End he knew especially what it was like to feel as if a part of you is missing. A part that you fear you will never get back. Others tried to be helpful. They tried to be compassionate but there was no way they could ever understand. He himself felt that something inside him had died and that there was no hope of it ever growing again.

He got up and tapped his pipe, felt Sam's eyes upon him, as they quite often were these days. He thought, "Sam, dear Sam. I wish you could quit worrying about me. I must find my own way through this." He left the room and went down the hall feeling rather than seeing his dear friend follow him with his eyes. He stopped in front of the second bedroom that was Aragorn and Arwen's for the duration of their stay. He gently knocked and heard a rustle of skirts in answer to his gentle inquiry. He turned the doorknob and pushed tentatively. Inside Arwen stood at the round window, hugging herself and staring sightlessly at the row of trees across the path. He came behind Arwen, "How are you, My Lady?" He did not receive a reply but he had not really expected one. He stepped along side the Elven Queen of Gondor and said, "It's all right, you know. To feel as you do. It is so hard to be happy. To feel happiness when so much has gone before. The others don't understand, but I do."

Arwen turned to him and looked silently at Frodo. He beheld eyes that revealed a soul tearing itself apart. One part seemed to say, "Give in, the pain is unendurable and you have only hurt those you love with your actions. Best to give up now and allow them the chance to learn to live without you." The other part seemed to urging, "Fight this! Stay with us, learn to live with what you've chosen and you will again discover how to find joy in all things." Frodo stared into her troubled bluish-violet eyes and saw a reflection of his own sorrows. Suffering and resignation and a certain incredulity lay in Arwen's gaze, "Choose to accept what you have done or not, but remember Aragorn would be lost without you." said the hobbit for whom wisdom had been and still was a harsh teacher.

At this Arwen breathed a heavy sigh, breaking Frodo's concerned gaze, "I would be lost without him, and yet I have treated him so callously! I have spurned his attempts comfort me, thinking myself so much wiser than he. And now he has gone to my father and find only hurt and more anguish." She blinked with unseeing eyes. "My father has forsaken me for what I have done. He will find no welcome…" She concluded in a sad, far away voice. She turned her eyes back to Frodo and he was startled to see how bewildered and lost she looked. It seemed like she was seeing a sight reserved only for her eyes. It frightened him.

He sat her down upon the bed and then firmly said, "My lady! You have so much to live for. Think of your child! He will need you. And you are surrounded by those who love you. You should accept help and kindness when it's offered." Arwen blinked slowly at him and her eyes seemed to begin seeing again. She gave him a sad little smile, which seemed to say "thank you" and at length she kissed him on the forehead. "You counsel well," she paused and then continued, "You should heed your own advice, my dear friend."

Frodo immediately looked down and away saying ruefully, "Isn't it funny, that advice which you can give so clearly for a friend is advice that you can never seem to take yourself." He sighed and looked up. Arwen sat there smiling, grief etched in her face and a sorrow in her eyes that he found painful to behold, "Dear Frodo. Shall we venture forth together to both share in the advice that you have given?" She said in a voice that signaled a resignation to begin again the battle against the soft, enveloping shadow that almost succeeded in silently slipping over her.

"Yes, My lady. I think we should."

Sam was the first to see them enter into the kitchen. "Mr. Frodo! My Lady! Are you well?"

Frodo stifled a sigh and said, "Of course, Sam. There is no need to fret yourself. My Lady and I were just talking that is all."

Faramir, who had been wracked with guilt for causing Arwen this much torment, came forward immediately to assist his Queen into a chair. Arwen also stifled a sigh, "My Lord Steward, I am not made of porcelain, I will not break," At least not yet anyway, Arwen sighed.

Faramir dropped to a knee and looking somewhat abashed, said "Of course, my Lady! I did not mean to imply by my actions that…" His voice trailed off. He saw that the pale cast of her skin was becoming increasingly transparent. It horrified him.

Arwen smiled at the kneeling man and put a hand gently on one shoulder, "Forgive me, Faramir. I know that you did not."

Rosie had been listening to these two exchanges very carefully, protective as a mother hen over the brood that had come to nestle in her house over the past week. She thought over the motley collection of Elves, and Hobbits and Men that had taken up residence in Bag End and pondered the bonds of friendship, love and loyalty that bound them and she only hoped that it continued to keep them all together as her eye fell on Arwen and then Frodo and Sam.

***

Two weeks later…

The Lord of Rivendell sat in his study, thoughtful. He had been so ever since the servant had told him where his sons had gone. At first he could not believe that they had openly defied him and his anger raged vowing to never allow them passage into Rivendell, again. Let them live in Lorien if they find Galadriel's presence that much more pleasing than mine, he had thought. That anger had now gone and he was wondering how he had come to this pass. He had lost his daughter and now he felt as if he were on the verge of losing his sons as well if only in spirit. He felt old. He had never felt quite so old as he did now. The world was passing him by and he no longer understood anything. He had given so much and had had even more taken away from him. He wanted to talk to Arwen, he wanted so much to reach out to her, but he didn't know how to anymore. She was close, he felt it. Even if Galadriel had not informed him about her presence in the Shire he still would have felt it. Her light was still shining, though dimmer than it had ever been. This deeply troubled him.

A page knocked on the door of his study, "Did not I request that I not be disturbed, can you not follow the simplest of instructions!" he bellowed, his head bowed looking down at his parchment.

"You always said I had trouble in that regard." said a quiet voice that stilled Elrond's very soul. He looked up slowly from the parchment he had been trying to study and saw his erstwhile foster son, in travel-stained clothes and muddy boots, on one knee, head bowed. Estel. A jumble of conflicting emotions and images ran through Elrond. A flash of fond remembrance, of a dark-haired ten year-old at his knee in the his herbarium, the love of a five year old running to hug his Adar coming home from a journey, betrayal, pride of a fifteen year old receiving his first sword specially inscribed, disappointment when a ten-year old failed to heed wise words and subsequently having a broken arm set, anger and hope, these all warred for supremacy within the Elven Lord's breast. He finally settled upon that which had served him, if not well, then at least functionally over the last few years. Cold formality.

"Rise, Elessar, you need never bow to me. It is not appropriate." Elrond saw a rod of steel go through Aragorn's back as he rose from the obsequence he had made to his foster-father, the only father he had ever truly known. Although he bore the patronymic, he had never known Arathorn, who had died when Aragorn was only two. Elrond raised him, loved him even, here in Imladris.

"Forgive the inappropriateness of such an action, I did not mean to cause offence." Grey eyes full of restrained emotion looked upon Elrond's own pale blue ones as a tightly controlled voice spoke the words.

You've taken my daughter, is that not offence enough! And now her light grows dim! came the thought unbidden into Elrond's mind. He blinked and drew breath, desperately trying to calm his raging emotions, "What would you have with me? Is there some issue that needs my attention." he said politely if a bit cynically.

Aragorn caught the cynicism and inwardly winced, his foster father had changed as Elladan had said he had. He steeled himself and said, "Your daughter needs you, sir. Please come and see her."

"Sir? So polite, Elessar. But you are mistaken," Elrond heard himself say, "I have no daughter. I did once, but no more." What am I saying? Why am I saying it. Elrond thought frantically. He glanced at Aragorn who looked like he had just been slapped in the face.

Shocked and stunned, Aragorn was trying desperately to hold on to a composure that was slipping away quicker than he might like to admit. He had expected that this was never going to be an easy task, but he was willing to endure anything if it could bring Arwen back to him fully. Aragorn blinked, desperately trying to think of some argument that could be made that would break through that icy veneer that Elrond had constructed around himself. Arwen's future happiness, her very life depended on it. His thoughts were fracted, jagged with hurt and fear, but he must try.

"Please, sir, she needs you. Whatever you may think of me and what I have done please do not punish your daughter any further than you have. Hate me as you will, but go to your daughter. She loves you and needs you." Aragorn's voice was filled with pain and pleading. Steadily he looked at his foster father awaiting his pronouncement.

"Again I say to you, Elessar." Elrond responded tonelessly, "I have no daughter." He finished to the shock of his own ears. Why can I not reach out!? She needs me.

Aragorn's composure, upon hearing this latest denial, broke utterly. "Damn you, Sir! You condemn your own daughter to death with these words! What do you want from me? I will do anything. Do you want me to beg? I will." At this he walked the few steps to his foster father and dropped to both knees at the arm of Elrond's chair, "I am sorry for loving your daughter and taking her away from you, sir! Only please come to her. Her light grows dimmer all the time, I cannot stop it! Please, Sir! Come to her! I'm begging you." Aragorn bowed his head and sobbed, "Hate me, spend your ire upon me if that is what you will, but do not punish her any more!" The words sounded as if they were ripped from Aragorn's very soul.

Elrond looked at the sobbing, shaking man at his knee and suddenly nothing else seemed important, his reasons for anger, his feelings of betrayal mattered little when presented with such abject suffering from such a proud man as he knew Aragorn to be. He felt the icy bands which had constricted his heart for too long melt away in his desire to comfort his foster son and give him what he wanted.

Aragorn knelt there sobbing for what seemed an eternity of anguish, hopeless that he had made any impact at all upon the Lord of Rivendell, his foster father, when he felt a hand upon his shoulder. Aragorn stiffened and a small ember of hope re-kindled itself in his heart. "Estel," came a voice full of regret and uncertainty, "Ion nin. Look at me." Aragorn raised gray eyes so full of supplication and anguish that it broke Elrond's heart anew. At last Elrond said the words that he had long been unable to voice. "I forgive you and Arwen. If you can forgive a father his own foolishness? I will go to her and we will ride within the hour."

Aragorn could hardly hear, for the loud rush of blood within his ears, but he looked upon his foster father, gasping and gulping for breath trying desperately to tame the wild beating of his heart, he could only stare his thanks for his beloved's deliverance. Elrond looked concernedly at his foster son, "Estel, did you hear me? Are you quite well."

Aragorn had at last quelled the beat of his heart and the rush of blood in his ears, "Yes, sir. I am now. Hannon le!" Elrond stood and help him off of his knees and watched as Aragorn drew himself up to his full height and then inclined his head with his hand on his heart, "Hannon le! Adar nin! he said, eyes full of emotion.

***********
Hannon le = Thank you

Hir nin = My lord

muindyr nin = my brothers

guren = My heart

Chapter 10 - Three Prayers to the Valar

Two weeks later…

Aragorn and Elrond and his two sons rode through Hobbiton wearily and travel-stained and were greeted pleasantly enough by the various inhabitants of the village. But when they came to Bag End, there was an uneasy quiet that hung about the place. Aragorn threw a glance in Elrond direction and his father-in-law's furrowed brow told him that he felt the same sense of foreboding. Aragorn dismounted Hasufel and tied his reins around the fence and proceeded towards the rounded front door calling, "Frodo! Sam!" Just as he was about to push the door, it opened and Galadriel emerged from the little Hobbit hole.

Aragorn took one look at Galadriel's face and fear slashed through him. "Arwen!" he demanded, "where is she?" he felt as if his mind was threatening to splinter apart at the next words uttered by the Lady of the Golden Wood.

"Aragorn, listen to me," said Galadriel, staring intently into Aragorn's gray eyes, "She has given birth to a son two nights ago, but it has not gone well. She has lapsed into a fevered sleep from which we cannot rouse her."

Aragorn continued to stare into fathomless blue, "No! No! That is not possible." He stammered. "Where is she?" as he tried to push past Galadriel.

"Where is my daughter?"

Galadriel looked from Aragorn to see the Lord of Rivendell walking toward her carrying a satchel. Galadriel said a silent prayer thanking the Valar for this kindness and yet she still did not know if it was going to be enough, "she is inside." And with this she stepped aside and allowed them to pass.

Aragorn reached the room that they had shared only to see Rosie, Eowyn and another she-hobbit that he did not know standing around the bed and obscuring it. Rosie looked towards the door and said, "Aragorn, you've finally returned" in such a caustic way that he paused for a moment to send her a glance and then raced towards the bed.

He looked at Arwen's sleeping form, a still grace had settled upon her and his heart fought off what his mind was trying to tell him, that she was slipping towards death. Aragorn knelt by her bed, tears filling his eyes as he reached out to caress her cheek with his hand. "No!!" he was heard to utter from a place deep within his being, "Arwen, my heart, my soul. I am nothing without you. You cannot leave me."

Elrond knelt next to Aragorn at his daughter's head. He cast sorrowful eyes upon his daughter. After a few minutes he spoke, unaware of the tears running down his face, looked at his daughter, "Iell nin! I am here. Can you forgive a foolish father for all the pain he has caused?" He smoothed back the raven-coloured hair from his daughter's sweaty brow, "Gerich veleth nin, iell nin! I forgive you and want you to be happy." At this his voice cracked and he paused taking a deep breath to calm himself. "You must come back to us, my Undomiel!" he said in a stronger voice.

Elrond stood and with a visible effort, he calmed his mind enough to begin questioning Galadriel, Rosie and Eowyn about the birth and everything that had taken place in order to ascertain what if anything could be done for his daughter. She had a fever and there had been blood loss said Rosie, and the delivery had been long, but nothing too extraordinary. The three women were at a loss as to explain her condition.

Elrond returned to his daughter's bedside at which Aragorn still knelt stroking her dark hair and speaking to his wife in the heartfelt hushed tones of a worried soul. "Aragorn," He said gently, "Stand aside and allow me to examine her to see what can be done."

"I'll not leave her side!" he said stubbornly.

Elrond closed his eyes, searching for calm, and said, "My son, please! I must see what can be done." At this Eowyn came forward to lead Aragorn away saying, "Come my lord, Come and see your son."

Aragorn turned uncomprehending eyes towards Eowyn, and said, "My son," tonelessly as if these words had no meaning, but he got up and allowed himself to be lead away from the bedside to a previously unnoticed cot in the corner of the room. With Eowyn at his side, Aragorn stood at the cot, eyes shut. He slowly opened them and the gray eyes of the father and the deep blue, almost violet eyes of the infant son met. Eowyn held her breath as she looked at Aragorn beholding his son with a look of pain and something else she could not describe on his face. He simply stared for at the child for many moments. And then with a choking sob, he whispered, "My son! My beautiful son!" Eowyn let out the breath that she had not realized she was still holding and looked confidently at Galadriel, nodding her head ever so slightly. A look of intense relief crossed the Lady of the Golden Wood's face. There had been worry among the womenfolk that Aragorn would not accept his son into his heart, with Arwen's health still so much in doubt. Seemingly that was not to be case, Galadriel thought, thanking the Valar for the second time that day.

This wordless exchange had but taken a second, and Eowyn heard Aragorn ask, "He is strong, right? Nothing ails him." Eowyn turned her attention back toward Aragorn and quickly said, "Yes, he is quite strong. You can hold him if you like," she ventured hopefully.

Aragorn said quietly, "Yes, I would like that, if it is a good idea."

For an answer Eowyn scooped up the infant and placed him in his father's arms, making sure that he was holding the baby properly. When she was sure of both father and son, she left them there and rejoined the group by the bed. The womenfolk had decided that Aragorn should be left with the baby quickly in order to bond, especially as Arwen's health was in doubt.

Aragorn stood there holding the baby near the cot, transfixed as he was by the eyes that his little son so obviously shared with his mother, saying "My son, my beautiful son," over and over, his heart filling with love for the little life he held and deep concern with the lifeless form of his mother in the big double bed a few feet away. Pain coursed through Aragorn as he cradled his young son in his arms. He felt that if he were to let go of the child now, the grief that threatened would simply engulf him. So he stood swaying the child back and forth gently, softly humming an old Elven tune that he had heard as a boy in Imladris.

Galadriel watched this from across the room, saw the pain and love etched on Aragorn's face and prayed silently for a third time to the Valar that day, "Let us not be too late, Send Arwen Undomiel back from wherever she is roaming for I do not believe that Aragorn will ever be whole again should she depart this world now." She turned her attention back to her granddaughter and observed what Elrond was doing.

Elrond looked over his daughter, and could determine no physical reason for his daughter's deep sleep. As a preventive measure he gave her a draught that was meant to fight the infection that was causing the fever gently burning across Arwen's body. He wiped her face and arms with a light salve that was meant to reduce fever. After he finished his ministrations he stood, exhaustion and grief written on his fair face and said, "There's naught else I can do for right now. I can see how she responds to the medications I have given her. But I think Arwen must make the decision to come back to us." He paused for thought, "Right now somebody needs to keep her body temperature down by dampening her every so often with these cloths."

From near the child's cot was heard, "I will do it." Aragorn looked across at his father-in-law. He walked over to the bed still holding his son. He looked around the various people in his bedroom and back to Elrond, "You are finished?" Elrond nodded. "Then, will everyone please leave the room, I wish to be alone with my wife and son." The look in his eye said he would not brook argument, even from Elrond or Galadriel. All consented and Rosie as last one out shut the door behind.

Upon hearing the soft muted click of the door he placed their child in his little cot and did as he had been instructed. Upon finishing, he retrieved their son and placed him on Arwen's chest, so that the newborn could hear his mother's heart beat and she could feel the child's presence. Then Aragorn himself climbed onto the other side of the bed and lay down next to them. He stroked his child's downy hair and whispered in Arwen's ear, "This is our son, my beloved. He has your eyes. Please come back to us so that he can grow up knowing the beautiful soul behind those eyes he shares. We need you and love you more than I can say. Do not leave us. We need you." He paused, "I need you." He repeated this a few more times then lay peacefully singing softly.

Elrond opened the door an hour later to check on Arwen and he found them in the same position, the newborn sleeping upon his mother's chest and Aragorn curled up beside them. He was struck by the tableau and felt anew how wrong he had been to not bless this union. Very quietly he sat, as not to disturb any of the sleeping family. He reached out a hand to stroke Arwen's hair, his voice nothing higher than a tear-choked whisper. "Iell nin! Please forgive me. I am heartily sorry for the pain I have caused you. Please come back to us. I see now that I was wrong to want you to forsake your love for Aragorn. He loves you dearly. And knowing this I think I can just about accept our parting. For a lesser man, I could not. But Aragorn is worthy of you, full of strength and love. I had only just forgotten. Please come back to him. He loves and needs you."

Elrond sat there silently caressing his daughter's cheek until the child upon her breast started to fret, giving all the signs of impending hunger. Elrond reached over and picked up his grandson, "Shh-shh! You don't want to wake your parents, do you? Oh! You are a fine looking young lad, aren't you?" Elrond gazed at the child noticing his not quite-pointed ears and clear deep blue eyes. He already looked intelligent; most Elven babies did, even at this early stage, so it did not surprise Elrond that his daughter's child should also. "Yes! My grandson, you will be a fine man, someday." The child again looked fretful, and Elrond laughed softly, "Well now, let us see what we can find for you to eat."

Aragorn awoke the next morning next to Arwen in bed beside him and he thought it was all a bad dream. But then he noticed her complete stillness and realized sadly that it was not. His next thought was for their son. Just as he was about to leap out bed and start searching for the little one, the door opened and in walked Eowyn carrying the newborn, a bit startled at seeing Aragorn sitting next to Arwen on the bed. "Aragorn!" she recovered quickly, saying "How is Arwen."

Aragorn looked down to stroke his wife's forehead, "Still no change." He uttered softly. He, then gently but quickly rose from the bed and crossed the room in two strides. "How is my son?" he said as he reached for the little bundle. "He is well? Let me hold him." Eowyn relinquished the child, placing him in his father's arms. The child nestled closer to his father, waking briefly and then returning to slumber. Eowyn watched the look of rapt love come over Aragorn's face at once and smiled.

"He is well and fed. Have you thought what to name him yet?" Eowyn inquired.

A look of pain and doubt crossed Aragorn's face, "No!" He said somewhat abruptly, "I wait to discuss it with Arwen when she awakens." He looked sternly at Eowyn.

"I'm sorry, my lord. I did not mean to imply…" Eowyn quickly stated.

Aragorn's face softened, "Forgive me, my lady. I did not mean to be so abrupt. I ask your pardon. I am not quite myself these days."

Eowyn smiled, compassion showing in her eyes, "That is quite all right, my lord. There was no offence taken."

Aragorn nodded and then breathed deeply "But what if…" he stopped himself, eyes shut against the pain. With effort he fought off the negative thought and at length opened his eyes and found Eowyn looking into his face, hand on his arm.

"She will be fine. Just wait and see. She is surrounded by those who love her most. She will come back to us." Eowyn said with perhaps more confidence than she felt, but Aragorn looked so lost at the moment and she wanted to give what comfort she could.

Aragorn looked back at her saying, "Thank you Eowyn. You have been most kind."

Eowyn smiled, "Why don't you leave the child with me and go outside and get a little fresh air. You could probably use it. I will stay and look after Arwen "

Aragorn said, "I cannot leave!"

Eowyn, said, "That was actually not a suggestion but an order sent by Lord Elrond."

Aragorn looked as if he was going to argue more, but Elrond entered at that moment and gave him a look that said not to. Aragorn accepted the unspoken command grudgingly, but did keep firm hold of the child as he made his way toward the door. In this Elrond did not stop him because seeing the look upon the man's face, he knew that to insist upon leaving the infant would have done more harm than good. Aragorn needed the child; it looked as if holding onto the little life was the only thing that was keeping him from collapsing under the strain of it all. Elrond allowed the man to pass by him and into the hall. He looked at Eowyn, who seemed to see the same thing that he had, and sighed deeply shaking his head. He walked over to the bed looked upon his daughter and said gently, "Arwen, Guren, Please come back from wherever you are roaming. Your husband needs you desperately and we all miss you!" At this he lent over and kissed Arwen's fair white brow, removing the cold cloth that had been placed there. Elrond then sat at her side saying, "You must get better. This should not be the ending of your life! You must fight!" He motioned Eowyn forward, "Bring me more cold cloths and a bit more of that salve that we used yesterday." Eowyn rushed to do his bidding.

Elrond looked at his child, "Iell nin! I am sorry for having caused this. Can you forgive me?" He picked up her hand closest to him. "I am here and I won't leave until you awaken and tell me either to never darken your doorstep again, as would be your right considering my unforgivable behaviour or accept my deepest regrets for not understanding the depth of your love for my foster son. Please come back to us." He said kissing her smooth hand on its palm, tears beginning to fall.

***

Arwen looked about her to only to find she was alone in unfamiliar surroundings, yet she did not feel afraid. All round her was an unreal beauty and a pervasive serenity that had no equal in Middle Earth.

She heard a voice that she had not heard in an age, except in her dreams. “Arwen.” Her heart thrilled to the sound; it was her mother.

Arwen spun about searching for the voice, “Naneth! Where are you? I cannot see you.”

“Look into your heart, my child.”

Arwen closed her eyes and thought of her beautiful golden mother. She thought of her soft, gentle and joyous light that had graced their lives until tragedy had struck. She remembered warm embraces and quiet melodies sung in the night. Thought evoked peals of delighted laughter and her father and mother gazing at each other when they thought they went unwatched; a reminiscent tear made its slow way down her pale cheek. She felt a hand smooth the tear away.

“Open your eyes, my child.”

Arwen did as she was bidden and before her not a foot away, stood Celebrian, gently luminescent. “Nana! I have missed you so much!” she exclaimed as she hugged her mother, sobbing.

“Shh-Shh! My precious darling. I have missed you as well.” Celebrian whispered into Arwen’s ear.

Arwen asked the question that was burning in her heart, “Have I died? Where is this place?”

Celebrian broke the hug at that moment and looked into her daughter’s bluish-violet eyes, “You are in the place created of our own conflicting dreams and desires. You have not died, not yet. But you are very close to crossing over that boundary. Your spirit was found wandering and I have been sent to guide you; to help you regain the path of your heart. You have a choice before you. Do you go on and crossover the boundary to the halls of our people where you will find respite from all that has dimmed your spirit or do you go back. Be mindful your choices. You alone know the cost of each. But I will tell this, there are those left behind who are desperately clinging to you. Can you feel them.”

Up until that moment Arwen had only felt the peacefulness and serenity of her surroundings, the pain and sorrows that had brought her to this pass had been utterly assuaged. At her mother’s words a shadow of them returned, shading her light with regret, but along with it, love. A love that filled her heart and would not let her go. That love contained a beauty so bright and so strong, yet the heart that contained it was in pain. She could hear two voices calling her name and could feel darkness falling upon one, a sorrow immeasurable growing in what she knew in the core of her being was her twinned soul. The other voiced a regret so palpable that she ached to grant absolution. All thought of going forward vanished. She knew she must return.

She looked at her mother and realised the path of her heart would sunder them completely. “Naneth” she started.

Celebrian stopped her short, “There is no need to explain, Iell nin. It was my job to guide you back to the path of your heart. What should be, shall be! Be happy. Iell nin. I will love you always.” She leaned forward and kissed Arwen on the forehead. When Arwen looked up again she was gone. The far-off light blazed, beckoning, and Arwen followed.

***

"Ada?"

Elrond stilled at that softly spoken word, hope springing to glorious life as he kissed her palm again. He then looked up and saw Arwen's deep blue eyes looking at him almost in wonder. "Is it really you?" she whispered.

Tears blinding his eyes, Elrond looked at his daughter, "Yes! My child! It is me. I love you. Can you forgive a foolish elf for his misplaced pride?"

"Oh, Ada! Do you really not hate me for what I have chosen," came the pained soft whisper.

Elrond winced at the word "hate" realising afresh the pain and anguish his vanity had caused his daughter, "Oh my child! I do not hate you. I could never hate you. I hate only myself for the pain my foolish behaviour has caused you. You…and Aragorn have my undying love. I understand now why you have decided to forsake the Straight Way and stay with Aragorn. I think I always knew, but I was blinded by bitterness, vanity and my own foolish pride. Forgive me, my daughter?"

At these words a shadow lifted from Arwen's spirit. Her face, previously creased by pain and sorrow, cleared and weak though she still was, a light rekindled behind her eyes. She looked upon her father and smiled, but it was not a pained, sorrowing smile but one of happiness and serenity. "Having given your pardon, there is no way I could ever withhold mine! I love you, Ada!"

"Oh my child!" Elrond squeezed her hand and bent over to kiss both cheeks and her brow, his eyes shining with unshed tears, and then helped as she struggled into a sitting position.

Eowyn, at that moment walked through the door of the bedroom carrying the salve and cloths that Elrond had asked for, she stopped in her tracks, as she beheld the joyful sight. "My lady Arwen! You've awaken!" she half shouted. From outside the room a clattering of footsteps was heard. Aragorn charged into the room still holding their newborn babe.

He never forgot the sight he saw before him. Arwen sitting up in bed, a soft radiance glowing from her eyes and a serenity upon her brow that caused Aragorn's heart to leap up into his throat. At once he at her bedside, speechlessly happy and staring into her deep blue depths. Arwen smiled, and said, "My love, as you see I have returned. I could never leave you for long."

Aragorn's tear-choked voice could only utter, "My love…" Arwen smiled again and cast her eyes downward towards the little bundle in Aragorn's arms.

"Hello! And who might you be?"

Aragorn looked down and suddenly remembered that he carried their child in his arms. "T-This is our son, my love. He has your eyes." His eyes were silver with emotion.

Arwen looked at him knowingly, "I know he does, I remember somebody telling me that somewhere in a dream." Aragorn gazed her, happiness replacing the dread and despair that had resided in his heart for weeks. Arwen reached up and wiped away the tears from her beloved's cheeks. "No tears! There have been too many. I love you, my heart, and I will never go away again." At that Aragorn bent his head to kiss his wife and joy burst in his heart.

A sniffle was heard behind them. Aragorn looked towards the door and spilling into the room were friends and family. He looked from Faramir's beaming face to Eowyn's shining eyes to Legolas' tear-streaked face and found the source of the sniffle. Pippin was rubbing his eyes and trying not to cry, "I'm sorry, Strider, to interrupt such a private family moment but we've all been so worried and I was so happy to hear Arwen was awake. Well, we just had to see for ourselves." He finished rather miserably.

"Oh Pippin! Come here!" He gently handed over their little son to Arwen so he could enclose the hobbit in a great big hug, "Fool of a Took! Don't you know that I consider you family? You call me "Strider" don't you? Only family members can do that! I want to share this happiness with all my family and that includes you, you silly little hobbit."

Pippin's tears cleared and his usual buoyant good cheer returned in spades, "That's all right, then. What are you going to name him, anyway?" Pippin finished with a sunny smile.

Aragorn paused and looked at Arwen, "Well, what do you think?"

Arwen gave it some thought, "Well, considering his elven lineage, why not Eldarion, Son of the Elves. I would wish him to know and cherish his elven heritage. If that is acceptable to you, Ada." Arwen looked at her father who was sitting on the side of the bed.

Elrond eyes filled with tears and he said in a choked voice, "I would really like that." Father and daughter smiled at each other.

Aragorn's heart warmed at the sight then said, "Eldarion, it is then. My love, you'd best get some rest. Here I will return little Eldarion to his cot. The rest of you, shoo!! My wife needs her rest."

Aragorn fussed about like a mother hen tending her chicks rather than the King of the Reunited Kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor. Arwen watched him make sure that little Eldarion was securely bedded down and then he came over to the bed to straighten the bedclothes for the double bed. She said quietly after he fluffed her pillows for the third time, "My love, stop for a minute." When he did not, Arwen tried again, "Estel, stop what you are doing and come here!" Aragorn stopped and looked at her, his eyes starting to glisten. "Come and sit on the bed with me." He put down the blanket that he was folding and climbed onto the bed. "Is there anything you need? I can get it for you!" He moved to get off the bed, Arwen stilled him by placing a hand on his.

She held his eyes and whispered, "No! I just need you to be still while I say what I have to say." Aragorn eyed her anxiously. Arwen continued, placing a hand on Aragorn's cheek, "I'm sorry the worry that I have caused you." Aragorn started to protest, "Yes, I have. I was arrogant and thought myself wiser than you and would not allow you to help me, to comfort me. I am sorry for that, my love. I should never have made that mistake. Forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive!" Aragorn fervently averred.

"Nevertheless, I am sorry. I know that you went to Imladris to find Ada. Faramir did not say; I guessed. Thank you for what you did. I thought our reconciliation was beyond hope. Obviously I was wrong. I owe you everything, my love." At this she pulled him forward and she covered his face with gentle kisses whispering "thank you" after each kiss, ending with a long lingering kiss on the lips.

After they parted Aragorn said, "You owe me nothing. I love you. I would do anything to bring you happiness. After you would not let me comfort you the morning after Elanor's Tadaura, it was the only thing I could think of doing. I'm sorry for leaving so abruptly, but I wasn't thinking clearly. I thought you were lost to me and the thought almost destroyed me. I had no choice but to go."

Arwen smiled and for a moment was pensive, "How did you convince Ada to come into the Shire? I was convinced he never wanted to see me ever again."

Aragorn looked her straight in the eye and said, "I did the only thing left open to me. I got on my knees and begged him to come and see you." Arwen looked at her husband and saw the truth of his statement, her eyes filling with an indescribable love for this strong, proud man, knowing what it must have taken for him to do such a thing. Aragorn responded to the look, "I would do it again for you. I would do anything for you. Just do not ever close me out like that again. I truly think it would kill me."

"Never, I never shall, my heart!" Arwen first cleared the pepper and salt dark hair off his forehead and kissed him then she took first his right hand and kissed the front and then the palm, and she did the same with the left hand. She drew him toward her and kissed his tears away, whispering "I love you" many, many times.

Aragorn then kissed her brow, saying softly, "I love you so much. When I saw you lying lifeless here yesterday, I could not bear to see it. I felt my will to live slowly ebbing away. It frightened me. It was only Eldarion who kept me rooted to the here and now. He needed me." As if little Eldarion knew he was being talked about, he gave a short wail. Aragorn smiled ruefully and got up to fetch the boy out of his cot and placed him on the bed between his two parents. Arwen looked at her son, "What's the matter, Lhuneg nin, Hmmm?" Eldarion stopped wailed and gurgled contentedly and then promptly fell asleep. Aragorn returned him to his cot.

"Nothing, just wanted a bit of attention didn't you my lad!" Aragorn said smiling, looking suspiciously at the newborn and kissed the boy's fuzzy little head laughing softly. Aragorn moved to Arwen side, he bent down and kissed Arwen on the forehead. "I will leave you to rest and recover your strength, my love. I have a feeling that in the coming years ahead we are going to need it to keep with this little man."

"I think you are probably right."

Aragorn smiled, " Rest well, my beloved."

***************

Lhuneg nin = My little blue one

Chapter 11 - What grace is given me...

The next morning…

Arwen awoke feeling refreshed and alive. She turned her head and saw that Aragorn was still asleep. She noticed that how in sleep his worry lines lessened but did not disappear entirely. Over the last five years the gray in his hair had increased in direct proportion to the vast cares and responsibilities he had been forced to shoulder by Fate, but he took it all in and never shirked in his duties. She felt an overwhelming wave of love for this man, who gave so much of himself. She only hoped that she could give back to him a fraction of what he gave to others. Their last few years together had not been easy ones, but those days were gone and it was time to start looking forward. A small whimper was heard across the room and Arwen shifted her attention toward her son. She smiled and gently extracted herself from twisted bedclothes, placing her feet gingerly on the floor. It was her first time out of bed since birthing the boy and she was a little unsure of how steady she was going to be on her feet, but she was determined to see to the needs of her child. "I have had enough of this invalid life, I will be fine," she muttered under her breath. Having stood she did feel a bit lighted-headed but she was confident that would pass. She stepped delicately towards the child's cot.

Eldarion looked up his mother with those selfsame deep blue eyes shading onto violet. She thought she saw intelligence dawning in the young eyes as she reached down to stroke the boy's soft downy hair. Elven children began showing intelligence very early on and it would not surprise her if Eldarion should show similar rapid development. "Oh my little love, Lhuneg nin! You are the most special child in the world. Do you know that? Yes, you are." Eldarion started to fret a little more so Arwen then reached in and with a bit of an effort pulled the boy out of the cot. She felt a bit winded, so she sat down in the rocking chair next to the cot and said "Are you hungry, meletheg?" It seemed to her that Eldarion gurgled his assent so she started to nurse the boy.

Aragorn had awaken while Arwen was getting out of bed and thought to stop her as she was still too weak to be out and about. But while she was still weak in body, her spirit was now strengthening all the time and he could not bring himself to stop her from performing this simple task. Two days ago, he thought he might never see her stand or hold her child, so it would be churlish of him to stop her now. He lay quiet listening to her whispered monologue with their son and contentment began to grow in his heart.

After a few minutes Eldarion was happily suckling and Arwen was looking down at him softly singing an Elven lullaby.

"You look absolutely beautiful." She heard Aragorn's voice say. She looked at a bit startled, "I did not know you were up!"

"I've only just awaken to a beautiful Elven lullaby." With this he got out of bed to stand over the rocking chair gazing at mother and son. He cast an approving eye over his son, "he really is special, isn't he?" Arwen merely nodded her assent and kept on singing the lullaby.

Aragorn tried to be firm, "But you really should be in bed!"

Arwen softly replied, "True, but since when have I ever done exactly what I was told."

Aragorn laughed silently, "That much is most certainly true and I would not have you any other way!" He kissed the top of her head and pulled a chair up to sit at her side. Little Eldarion seemed to have his fill and let out a big burp.

Aragorn laughed, "I never realised that such a small person could make such as a large noise. My little man, I can see you are going to be full of surprises."

Arwen sat there burping the child when a knock at their door sounded. Without bothering to wait for a reply, a dark head appeared, "Mind if we join you? Or is this a private party?" Elladan quipped. "There's the little prince, now!" he walked over to the rocking chair and looked down upon his nephew, "He is beautiful! And so is his mother." At this Elladan, normally so flippant and merry, choked up a little saying, "Muintheleg! so good it is to see you well!" he then smiled and the cloud passed from his face.

"I know we should wait for the blessing, but we just couldn't," Elrohir said as he walked to the other side of the rocking chair near to Aragorn's chair, "We wanted to make sure you got this before the blessing. We thought the little lad might be needing it," And from behind his back he pulled a soft package tied up with a forest green ribbon. Elrohir placed it on Arwen's lap and bent to kiss her on the forehead, when he stood he tried to surreptitiously wipe a tear from his eye. Arwen handed the baby to Aragorn and proceeded to unwrap the package. When she saw what was within the wrappings, she looked up at her two brothers and her eyes glistened with happiness. "We did not think that you had had time to have one made, so…" Elrohir started sheepishly.

"Thank you, I did not think that we going to have one for little Eldarion."

Arwen then held up a beautiful woven blessing blanket, that in Elven tradition was always an infant's first gift. The blanket was interwoven with of many different hues of a brilliant dark blue trimmed with white. The names of ancestors and current family members were woven into the fabric with strands of mithril and elven runes for good fortune, happiness and protection were woven along the trim of the blanket with the self same threads of mithril causing the blanket to give off a gentle glow. It was tradition that a blanket was woven anew for each child. The newborn was thereby symbolically protected and surrounded by the heritage of his people and the love of his family.

"How did you…?" Arwen started.

"Get it made." Elrohir finished for her. "Well, there are some astonishingly good weavers here in Hobbiton and when we first arrived we knew you were going to need one. The mithril we brought from home in hopes that we would be able to find someone who would be willing to weave it. And if the child had not been born yet at least we would have it to give to you for when he was born. Do you like it?" he finished tentatively looking at both his foster brother and his sister. Arwen was stroking each name and rune so carefully done and a new respect for Hobbit handcrafts was kindled, "It's beautiful. Thank you."

***

A combining of Noldorin and Sylvan traditions over the centuries held that the child be given a blessing began by the elders of the family and completed by those closest to them within days of the birth of the child. Because Arwen's health had been in doubt the family ceremony had been postponed. Now with Arwen recovering, Aragorn had decided that it was time for the small ceremony. Though he was of the race of Men Aragorn had been raised in Imladris and many private practices of the Elves were ingrained within him, this ceremony being chief among them. Eldarion would be raised among Men and taught their ways. They were the future of Middle Earth, but that did not mean that his upbringing would exclude Elven teachings and practices at least within the privacy of the family.

The blessing as required by tradition had to take place amid the winds of Manwe. The most natural place for it to be held would have been the woods close to the house but as Arwen was still not well enough to be out of bed for long periods of time it was decided that the rose garden would serve as the setting for the blessing well enough. Friends and family in fact that included all that now inhabited Bag End gathered in the enclosed garden of Bag End to listen to Celeborn as the elder of the family begin the bestowing of the blessing upon little Eldarion.

All stood in a circle. Celeborn came forth and stood beside Arwen and gathered up the child wrapped the dark blue blessing blanket and looked into the infant's eyes saying, "Blessings upon you, my great-grandson. May you grow to honour all living things, seeing in them worth and beauty." He dipped a finger into a small bowl of oils made from herbs grown only in Gondor garnered from Aragorn. "With this oil you are held bound to the land which you shall serve and protect." At this he traced the shape of two intersecting figure eights to symbolise the interconnectedness of all life upon Eldarion's forehead. "Our family welcomes you into the fold and may you bring only light and goodness into the circle of your family and friends."

He next passed the newborn to Aragorn, who repeated the Elven blessing changing only a few essential words, "Blessings upon you, my son. May you grow to honour all living things, seeing in them worth and beauty." He then traced the same symbol of intersecting figure eights on his son's forehead. Eldarion was gently passed along the circle each naming their relationship to the boy within the blessing, be they friend or family and each tracing the symbol upon the boy's brow. When it was little Elanor's turn, for children were not excluded from this rite, Rosie helped her trace the symbol upon the infant's head and the little girl added a kiss on the cheek of the little boy, much to the approval of all assembled. Arwen incanted her blessing and handed the child up to Galadriel as elder along with Celeborn to complete the circle. The Lady of the Golden Wood spoke the blessing, "Blessings upon you, my great-grandson, May you grow to honour all living things, seeing in them worth and beauty. After tracing the symbol of life, she ended the blessing by saying, "May you be strong, just and wise all the days of your life. May your heart know compassion for others and the resolve to do what is right." Just then a spring zephyr, warm and sweet, blew through the garden. Galadriel bent to kiss the little brow of her great-grandson. When she unbent, Frodo could never be sure, but he thought he saw the hint of a tear in the ageless blue eyes, but in a blink it was gone. He realised then that Galadriel was likely never to see the child grow into maturity. Her blessing was consequently then the only thing she might ever be able to give to the child. It was sad in a way. The Elves had fought long and died in the efforts to keep the peace in Middle Earth and by achieving it were they were the perpetrators of their own diminishment. They were leaving it, knowing their time was over. The thought was a sobering one and it gave him pause.

His train of thought was broken when he heard Aragorn say, "I am very happy that those closest to me are here to share this time us." Aragorn looked at the circle of his friends and family, Hobbits, Men, Dwarves and Elves, so different yet bonded through adversity into a family. His eyes stopped at Frodo, "Hannon le. I'm glad we are all here together." Aragorn looked at him almost as if he knew what was beginning to take root in Frodo's mind.

Rosie then spoke up and in good hobbit tradition suggested they retire inside and share the midday meal. Thusly the solemnity of the moment was broken and a general feeling of well being shaped the rest of the day.

***

Over the next few weeks Arwen and Aragorn continued to reside at Bag End and enjoyed the peacefulness of a Shire spring surrounded by their closest friends and family. Arwen grew stronger in body and the light within began again to glisten with the near same intensity that caused her to be called Undomiel, Evenstar of her people.

She sat leaning, arms back upon the bank that overlooked the stream, with her eyes closed, allowing her soul to drink in the warmth of the sun, the sounds of the water and textures of the earth beneath her and become refreshed by it on this late spring day in May. Arwen sat there in tranquil communion for many moments reveling in the sheer joy of it all. She sighed contentedly as she realised that she could now look upon the future than she had chosen for herself without it being tarnished by regret and doubt. She realised there was always likely to be sorrows in store for her, but no longer did these thoughts threaten to tear apart the fabric of her soul.

She sensed someone near and turned to see who it was.

"Grabbing a few quiet moments before another feeding, I see." Legolas sat down cross-legged next to her, wearing only his under tunic of fine white cotton lawn and leggings, all else had been discarded due the warmth of the day and the security of their surroundings.

"Eowyn has allowed me this time by looking after the young ones for an hour or two. She insisted, saying that I might as well take advantage of the peace and quiet, while I still could. I found the words wise and decided to heed them. So as young Pippin would say, 'I got out of dodge' " Arwen smiled.

Legolas laughed merrily, "That certainly is our Pippin!" he said fondly, as he began to casually play with the grass underfoot. He plucked a particularly long blade of grass and with a practiced hand he rolled it length-wise and brought the blade to his mouth and blew. A short sharp whistle sounded and then died out. Arwen looked at him, curiosity evident. Legolas looked completely delighted. "I haven't done that in years! And it still works!" With a big grin on his face, he announced, "Ah! The things we used to do as children in Mirkwood. We could spend hours like this." Arwen laughed. Legolas looked at her, blue eyes full of delight, "It is so good to hear you laughing again, mellon nin!"

"It is good to be laughing again," Arwen replied with a jubilant look in her eyes.

"How are you today? Better?"

"Yes, as if I could be anything else, with everyone hovering over me like a flock of mother hens!" Arwen said half teasingly, half seriously. Legolas went quiet and stared at the stream. Arwen noticed this mercurial shift and quickly said placing a hand on Legolas' lower arm, "Mellon nin! I am sorry. I was only teasing, I did not mean to sound ungrateful."

Legolas turned back to her, his blue eyes shaded with remembered pain, "You have nothing to be sorry about. It is I who am sorry, I can still see you lying on the bed lifeless. It harrowed my very soul to see you like that. I do not think I shall forget it. But," in another mercurial shift, Legolas' eyes lightened and his smile grew across his face, "you are here now, bright and alive attesting that they are only memories!" he leaned over and kissed Arwen on the cheek, laughing, for joy had returned to his heart.

"All right! Elf! Enough of this kissing my wife!"

Legolas looked up and saw Aragorn coming down the bank side towards them, "She is too beautiful for just one alone! You must share!"

Aragorn sat next to Arwen, having eyes only for his ethereal wife, "No, In this I mean to completely selfish! She is mine!" At this they kissed long and lingeringly forgetting all else existed until they heard a certain "ahem." They broke apart and Aragorn looked at a beaming Legolas, "What? Are you still here, Elf?" Begone with you!" Aragorn said, his eyes twinkling.

Legolas got up and with an ear-to-ear grin, swept a low bow, "At once, Elessar! Your wish is my command!" he said and spun on his bare-footed heel and hummed happily to himself as he returned to the house.

Aragorn and Arwen had barely noticed as their lips joined once again, losing all sense of time and place, happy just that they were together again.

*****************

Author's note:The blessing ceremony is the product of my own imagination, as was the Tadaura celebrations in Ch. 6, but after reading what the Professor had to say about Elves in the HoME about their strong feelings about family and familiar ties I think that the ceremony fits in with at least the spirit of the Elves even it is not canonical. Besides it was great fun to think up and write about! :-))

Lhuneg nin = My little blue one

meletheg = My little love

Chapter 12 - Changes

Frodo sat in his study looking out over the rose garden. He was trying again to work on his book. So much had happen over the last month and a half that he really had not had any time to spare a thought for writing, what with Elanor's Tadaura, their many guests, the birth of little Eldarion. So many welcome distractions. It was bliss being surrounded by those he loved best in the world but this morning he found that he needed a little solitude to work and reflect. He was exhausted from the effort of presenting his best face to all and sundry. Sam was ever at his side, bless him, but there were times. Frodo shook himself from such unworthy thoughts, only to have other thoughts crowd in around them, unbidden. His bout with "Remembrance" this past March had left him more shaken than he had cared to let on and he was weaker in spirit because of it and the continual need to pretend. But even surrounded by his friends and family as he was, he still felt hollow inside and at the mercy of his memories.

He had hoped that seeing all his friends would have help to remind him that he was loved and cared for. That he was still a decent person. Alas it had not. Their love and support only made him feel even more unworthy of such affection. They did not; they could not fathom his shame. He had ultimately failed and in the process of such failure his soul had been fractured. His innocence had been broken and littered upon the filthy ground of his cell in Cirith Ungol. He shut his eyes as if the movement could itself ward off such memories. He was not so lucky. Their voices crowded his mind, as fresh as if it were the present day and he was still in Mordor. "Where is it, little filth!?" and "What have you done with it!" He clamped his hands over his ears trying to stop the voices, but it was impossible. They could and would have their say. "No, please…please no! I don't know. Please stop! NO!" The next sound he heard was a door banging open and scuttering toward him were three or four Orcs. He fell off his chair and scrambled into a corner trying to protect himself as best he could. They'd taken everything from him once and he wanted to stop it from happening again if he could.

He whimpered, "No! Please do not, not again. Don't hurt me!!"

A voice broke his reverie, "Mr. Frodo! It's me, Sam! It's your Sam! I would never hurt you!"

Frodo blinked, and the walls turned from a dark and barren gray to a soft hushed earth tone that was covered by pictures and bookshelves. He turned back to the Orcs and in their place stood Sam, Rosie, Aragorn and Legolas. Sam knelt by him, tears in his eyes and Rosie was just behind him wearing a look of utter concern. Aragorn standing beside and Legolas just behind and both were looking at him, faces full of sorrow and shock.

Frodo realised that he must have called out in his terror, the sound ripping through the serenity of Bag End and immediately felt awash with shame that he had disturbed these good people. As he fumbled for the jewel that hung at his neck, he stuttered an apology, "I-I am so sorry that I have disturbed you. P-Please forgive me." He sat up straight and tried to retrieve the threads of his tortured and frayed dignity.

After making this plea Frodo saw silent tears fall from Legolas' eyes as the Elf looked upon him. Each ripped a fresh hole in Frodo's already rent soul. "Please do not cry, my friend. I am not worth these tears." At this utterance Rosie ran crying from the room.

Sam said with a trembling lower lip, "Come, Mr. Frodo, my dear. Let's get you into bed." He helped Frodo to his feet and Aragorn help him along. Legolas followed shutting the door to the study.

***

Frodo did not emerge from his room for the rest of the day. Rosie brought his food in on a tray and later brought it out almost untouched. Bright tears glistened in her eyes but she refused to shed them as she went about her work. Sam tried to comfort her but she would have none of it.

"Leave her be, Sam," Aragorn said as he got up abruptly to intervene when Sam tried to get her to sit for a minute. Sam whirled and stared at him looking ready to rap out a rejoinder, but then he sighed heavily and simply shrugged his compliance. He stomped outside carrying some pruning shears.

Faramir sat with Eowyn on the overstuffed sofa, her head resting lightly on his shoulder, her eyes clouded by sadness. He looked at Aragorn, "Is there anything we can do? Surely there must be something!" Aragorn looked uncertain and simply shook his head and sat down where Arwen was waiting for him. He put his head in his hands and Arwen rubbed his back trying to relieve some of the gathering tension.

Legolas sat cross-legged on the floor with his hands resting in his lap contemplating what he had seen and heard. It was too horrible to begin imagining and it had caused him to withdraw into himself. He simply sat and stared, oblivious to all around him, until he felt a gentle nudge and then a slight pull on one of his warriors' plaits. He looked up from the piece of tiling that he had been fixating on and saw little Elanor, eyes wide with curiosity, looking at him. She stood right to next him and reached out a finger to trace a fresh tear track down the Elf's face, a tear that Legolas had not realised he'd shed. He looked at the child and became lost in the innocent blue eyes for many moments. At length he smiled at her, and said softly, "Thank you, Gil-dithen nín!" and kissed her on the forehead. Elanor smiled tenuously; then looked at him solemnly and plopped herself into his lap nuzzling her small head into the crook of Legolas' neck sucking her thumb. The Elf threw his arms around her, squeezing a quick hug, "Oh, Gil-dithen lend nin! I know, we are all sad right now." The Elven Prince of Mirkwood sat there rocking the little Hobbit angel back and forth and began singing a little song that he learned as a child about the colours of the leaves of the trees and how each must have their season. The Elf's song wove a gentle spell upon the room's inhabitants and each felt their sorrows lessen, if only for a little while.

***

Sam sat just outside the trellis arch leading to the rose garden staring into space, his pruning shears lying forgotten at his side. His master was in pain again and he felt so completely useless. A shadow crossed him and after a beat or two he looked up and saw Gandalf's tall figure blocking the sun's rays. Looking down his eyes fell on a flowerpot a few feet away and disconsolately noticed something. "That plant needs water."

Gandalf stopped silently regarding Sam to spare a glance for the pot in question. "Yes, it does."
"If I water it then it will be just fine!" Sam vented.

Gandalf turned compassionate eyes upon the young gardener, "That is true."

Sam's face grew darker and more troubled, "But Mr. Frodo isn't going to be fine, is he?"

"No, Sam. He isn't." Gandalf answered quietly.

"It's not fair! Tisn't right I tell you. He tried so hard and he is continually punished!!" Sam scrubbed his eyes to wipe away angry tears. He looked up at Gandalf, "Why? WHY?? He did everything that was asked of him!! WHY MUST HE SUFFER LIKE THIS!!" Sam shouted with all the pent-up anger that he had hiding in his heart. "I DON'T UNDERSTAND!!!"

Gandalf looked upon this simple, loving Hobbit who was so overcome with rage and incomprehension and sighed heavily, "I don't know, Sam. I have no explanations. Except to say that that which we value most often comes at a high price."

Sam glared at him and then relented, "I can't stand to see him suffer."

Gandalf paused but decided after careful thought that Sam needed time to adjust to Frodo's departure. It would be hard for the little gardener to accept at first, but he must. "There is a solution."

That phrase fell upon Sam's heart with a finality that oppressed his very spirit, darkening his eye, "NO! That CANNOT be the only thing for it. There must be another way."

"Sam."

"NO!" but in his heart Sam knew there was no other decision possible, he paused briefly and a small voice pregnant with emotion said, "I know, Mr. Gandalf, I know. I was only trying to avoid it, is all."

"I am so sorry, Sam".

***

Frodo sat upon the coverlet of his bed shamed by the quiet that now blanketed the house. He had caused that quiet with that stupid outburst. The mood of the house of the last few weeks had been one of boisterous contentment. All had bustled about in noisy happiness since Arwen had recovered herself. Voices shouting back and forth planned fishing trips and picnics. Mischief usually followed Merry and Pippin around like a faithful puppy and these past weeks had proven no different; Pippin feeling the back end of Rosie's cooking spoon more than once. The small smile that had grown on his lips from these recollections faded quickly. The house had been full of happy sound, until his screams; until he rent the tranquility of the house. Now unnatural silence hung in the air and those he loved best were beset with worry. Frodo gulped hard, a feeling of disgust and self-loathing began filling him. He did not deserve such good friends; he did not merit such concern, he silently mused miserably. He was not fit to live among such good and honorable people, yet he had not enough courage to set out upon his own as he should, to begin the life of an exile, because in truth he did not want to be alone. He craved company, anything to distract him from his dark reveries. And yet when he was among people he wanted nothing more than to be left on his own. His bouts of "Remembrance" were longer in duration and becoming harder and harder to endure. He felt weighted down by the memory of his failure. The scars were only a physical manifestation of the ever-open wounds his soul had been made to bear.

He fingered the white jewel at his neck, a present from Arwen. He recalled her words, "But in my stead you shall go, Ring-bearer, when the time comes, and if you desire it. If your hurts grieve you still and the memory of your burden is heavy, then you may pass into the West until all your wounds and weariness are healed. But wear this now in memory of Elfstone and Evenstar with whom your life has been woven. When the memory of the fear and the darkness troubles you this will bring you aid."** And until recently it always had.

He never considered leaving the Shire, the thought had been anathema to his very soul. But now Arwen's words were taking on the light of prophecy and what had been previously an unthinkable idea was starting to take root in his mind. He had been fighting for so long, battling the demons that sought corrupt his spirit and turn him into a hollow shell of a person. On most days with great effort he could silence them, but there were times such as this morning when it was nigh on impossible to quell the voices. It was at these times that he felt that there was nowhere for him to go. He could never go back to the person he had been before the accursed ring had come into his possession and the person created during his adventures was in many ways intolerable to whom he had been before. The past was painful and the future had no meaning. He was stuck in a limbo of pretense that he desperately wanted to be shot of, but was afraid of what he might find beyond it. He felt a coward and a burden to those that loved him.

An exhaustion borne of warring self-loathing and doubt crept over him. Tears filled his big blue eyes. Tears that he refused to shed, as if to shed them would bear further witness to his weakness of spirit and only add to his feelings of worthlessness. He was tired of fighting, tired of pretending that he could ever be whole. He could not stay and cause his friends any more worry, he could not be the disruptive presence in this happy house any longer. He cast his eyes about and they took in all the familiar trappings of the room that he had known as home for so long. How he hated the thought of leaving. He much preferred to stay within his quiet little Hobbit hole, nestled within the heart of the Shire, but he now knew that that could no longer be. The Shire would always be in his heart, but he increasingly thought he no longer had the heart to be in the Shire. Too many reminders of whom he had been and what he fought so hard for, only to lose it in the end.

At that moment, a knock came at the door, he called a soft "Come in." In stepped Gandalf, he took one look at Frodo and said a soft solemn voice, "So, you have decided."

Frodo ruefully smiled, "Am I that transparent?"

Gandalf walked towards the bed and sat down beside the troubled Hobbit, "No. No, you are not. But I have been watching and waiting and knew that some time soon you would realise."

Frodo's temper ignited suddenly and with an uncharacteristic white-hot intensity, "Realise what? That my life here is over? Realise that all that I had hoped to achieve has turned to ashes before me? Is that what you planned from the start when you sent me on this errand of yours!" Frodo spun off the bed to face Gandalf. "Is this what you wanted!? I did what was asked of me! And never asked why me? Why not someone else? The more fool me! And what have I received as my reward! Nothing save pain and torment! You've got what you wanted! I am broken, Gandalf! Now leave me alone!"

Gandalf sat on the bed and allowed his dear Hobbit friend to unleash his anger upon him, only his eyes bore testament to the pain that truth, or at least a partial one, was inflicting. Frodo continued to rage, "Well, what explanation have you? ANSWER ME!" came the enraged shout when Gandalf had remained silent. "ANSWER ME!" was again shouted with all the anguish of a tormented soul. As quick as the rage started it subsided leaving only a confused, scared little hobbit who subsequently crumpled to the floor, pouring forth the tears that he had vowed he would not shed.

It was only then that Gandalf moved, to gain the floor and sweeping the sobbing little Hobbit onto his lap. An open door revealed Aragorn and Legolas both faces full of concern as they saw Gandalf holding a sobbing Frodo. Gandalf shook his head as if to say "It's all right, leave us for a few minutes." Aragorn hesitated unwilling to leave Frodo to his pain, but after a further look from Gandalf, he relented and quietly closed the door. At length after Frodo had quelled his tears somewhat, he apologised, "I'm so sorry, Gandalf!" he sobbed into the crook of Gandalf's neck, "I did not mean it! Please forgive me! I don't think I could go on if I thought you hated me for what I just said."

"Shh-Shh! There is nothing to forgive. I did not take any offence," the Maia said as gently as he could. Frodo nodded into the old wizard's beard and hair and sat silently for a few minutes. Then in a small little voice, he said, "I can't stay here any longer, can I?"

Gandalf's heart weighed heavy at that moment, "No, my dear friend. I'm afraid you cannot." Frodo was silent, and perhaps a bit shocked to hear confirmed what he had only begun to suspect himself and he broke his silence with a heartfelt sigh, after which he lapsed back into to silence. There was all at once so much to say and nothing left to comment upon. Frodo knew in his heart this was the only thing for it.

Curiously now that he had admitted this to himself he felt more at peace than he had in a long time. He did not have to pretend that everything was going to be fine. It was one less burden, one less responsibility to worry about. The only painful thing would be to say good-bye. To the Shire and to those that he held so dear. He would not see his little flower bud grow into the beauty that he knew she was bound to be. He would not see little Eldarion grow into the fine young King that he had every confidence he would become. But the Shire and indeed Middle Earth would go on without him. He looked at Gandalf, "Do me a favour? Don't tell Sam. I'll say goodbye but in my own way." Gandalf's eyes were troubled thinking, Sam knows, he just is not completely willing to accept it. He sighed as Frodo looked to him for confirmation of his request. Gandalf could only reluctantly nod. He motioned for Frodo to get up from his lap. Gandalf raised himself with notably creaking of bones, but as soon as he gained the full upright position, he looked down at Frodo, who was now once more sitting upon the bed. "Now you rest up recover your strength, my dear Frodo."

***

Over the next few days the others noticed that Frodo seemed to recover his spirits. In fact he seemed more at peace with himself than he had for a long time. Only Sam seemed a little subdued, pondering what at all might mean. Soon, as Arwen had completely regained herself and was well enough to face the journey back home, it came time for Bag End's guests to leave the cozy little Hobbit hole.

Although quarters had been cramped, especially for the Elves, all seemed reluctant to leave. Rosie stood in the kitchen stirring the stew for the Last Night meal planned for that night. It was decided that in the morning the various parties would start the journey home. Merry and Pippin would probably stay on for a bit longer but Rosie would be sad to see everyone else depart. Over the two months, so much had happened, both sad and happy. She looked over her shoulder into the sitting room and saw Aragorn and Arwen sitting on the overstuffed sofa quietly talking and laughing. She knew that they at last were happy and that gave her heart great joy. Rosie looked back at Eowyn. She had grown particularly close to the Princess of Ithilien, finding her a kindred spirit. She was a strong-minded woman who had a particular zest for life and a good laugh that Rosie taken to immediately. She caught the White Lady of Rohan's eye as she sat peeling potatoes and said, "If they have to leave, at least they will be leaving happy!"

Eowyn followed her eyes and replied, "It is good. I don't think Aragorn would have ever recovered from her passing."

"I am sure he would not have. I was indeed worried for him. But thank the Valar it is well." said Galadriel who sat on the bench shucking more peas, this time with little Elanor's "help." Rosie looked at the Lady ever so gently luminescent in her little Hobbit kitchen and nodded. She had become closer than she would have ever imagined to Galadriel, so awed at first was she. Rosie reflected that had she ever met Galadriel in her home of the Golden Wood she would never even have had the courage to speak to the Lady, let alone become easy around her. But she suspected that Galadriel had sought to make the little she-hobbit comfortable and softened her presence around her. Many good homely times, when worries had not been so prevalent, had been had in the kitchen with the Lady, Eowyn and later Arwen. Rosie would miss those times. She would also miss the both the Lorien and Imladris Elves, they had proven themselves to be bright and merry companions and to her mind had a zest for life and merriment that could almost rival Hobbits.

Many sad moments had the inhabitants of Bag End also endured, but she felt that these hard times had bound the motley collection of Elves, Dwarves, Hobbits and Men into a family of sorts and she had come to care deeply for this strange brood. She surreptitiously wiped a tear from her eye and was thankful when Pippin walked in and came up to the stew pot, spoon at the ready, to try and sneak a taste before supper. She quickly whapped his hand with her cooking spoon sending tiny splatters through the air, some of it landing on Pippin's clean shirt.

"Steady on! I just changed!" Pippin scrapped some of the stew off his shirt, "Mmmm! Tastes good! When do I get the rest of it!" he ended brightly.

"Soon! But you'll get none if you keep sneaking in here, Pippin Took! Honestly, the way you carry on. You'd think you hadn't eaten in a week!"

"Well, I am a growing boy!"

Rosie gave him the gimlet eye and Pippin reckoned another smack with the cooking spoon was in his future if he did not vacate the premises immediately. He left, but not before sneaking a tray of cheese tartlets when Eowyn's back was turned.

A shout of "Pippin, you put that back!" followed him as he ran outside and straight into Frodo who took one look at his little cousin with his mouth full of cheese tartlet, holding the stolen goods, and laughed, "I won't march you straight back in to face Rosie's wrath," he paused, "if you give me one of those tartlet. I'm starving!"

Pippin looked his cousin and quickly complied, handing over one of the gooey little pastries to Frodo. Together they went to seek out any others that were willing to share their purloined bounty. Cheese tartlet found its way into several stomachs that afternoon. Beregond sat munching his portion leaning back on the bank of the stream and said, "I don't think I have eaten so well since… Well, I can't remember. Pity really to be going back."

Faramir said, "Well, Much more of you will be making the journey, that's for sure," as he cast a mischievous glint at the Captain's midsection.

"I think we all are a little more substantial around the midsection." Aragorn offered up, patting his own stomach. "Fayre is by no means meager in Minas Tirith but there's certain dedication to food in the Shire that somehow leaves all tables slightly wanting."

Merry chimed in, "We simply show food and drink the respect they deserve, that is all! A good life and a plentiful table is truly all we Hobbits want in life."

Aragorn laughed heartily and reached over to ruffle the Brandybuck mop top, "May it never be lacking, my dear Meriadoc!"

Gandalf sat, puffed contentedly on his pipe and surveyed his gathered friends. Aragorn had been restored to his rightful place as King of the reunited Gondor and Arnor and had found happiness with Arwen, although that had seemingly taken longer to achieve than the former. Faramir looked happier and more content within himself than he had ever known the young man to be and the Maia knew that Eowyn had much to do with that. Gandalf had always known Faramir to have a quality of loneliness about him and that had disappeared completely over the last few years and for that Gandalf was truly gratefully for he had always held the boy in high affection. Pippin and Merry had grown, not only in stature, but also through their adventures they had gained experience and confidence while amazingly losing very little of their boyish charm and love of mischief. Gandalf chuckled softly to himself.

"You laugh, Gandalf! Tell me why." Gandalf looked to his side at Celeborn sitting cross-legged, sipping from a wine cup and holding the last bits of a purloined cheese tartlet his hand, his robes lying folded on the ground, discarded due to the early summer heat.

Peering at him amusedly, Gandalf replied, "I was just thinking that Hobbits are truly an amazing people."

"That they are, my friend. That they are. So full of the joys of life and yet," the silver-haired Elf Lord looked at Frodo, laughing at something that Pippin had just said, "So willing to risk everything and endure far above what anyone could ask, to save that which they love." Celeborn paused in speech while looking pensively at Frodo. He looked back at Gandalf, eyes a deep gray of comprehension, "Frodo has decided to journey to the Grey Havens, has he not?" Celeborn looked to the Maia to see him either confirm or deny it.

Gandalf returned the look, "Yes," he replied quietly, "he has. But he has not as yet told any here. Although Sam realises what will be shall be."

Celeborn glanced at the little gardener who did appear somewhat more subdued than the others. He felt compassion for the Hobbit; he knew what it was to lose a dearly loved someone to the calling of the West. A shadow of sorrow grew over his own heart and Celeborn cast his eyes downward and Gandalf saw his face change from one of merriment and delight to one of sadness and resignation, "It is well and is as it should be," the Lord of Light said at length. Gandalf detected a small catch in the Elf Lord's voice and could feel his deep sorrow and loss. He knew not what to say in the face of such restrained emotion so he sat in silence, waiting for the love of Galadriel's life to collect himself.

Celeborn looked up and Gandalf noted that his eyes were full of resignation and painful acceptance. He smiled graciously at Gandalf, "It is well. When do you plan on the journey?"

"Probably sometime in the autumn."

Celeborn was saved from reply as at that moment, Rosie came up behind them to announce dinner.
"Not that any of you are wasting away from lack of food," Rosie said with a certain asperity, casting an eye upon the tray that now contained only the smallest crumbs as evidence of the purloined cheese tartlets, "but Dinner is to be served up as soon as you get yourself to the dining table."

To nobody's surprise Pippin and Merry were the first to react and were already making a beeline from the stream to the front door of Bag End. The rest followed at an amused and somewhat more dignified pace. Soon everyone was surrounding the table and the food and drink flowed freely as did the laughter and storytelling. All did their level best to ignore the fact that tomorrow they would part.

Elanor's giggle could be heard above all and she seemed to spend most of her time traveling between the laps of Legolas and Frodo. Towards the end of the meal she sat on Legolas' lap eating a custard tartlet and generously although albeit a bit messily offered up half to the Wood Elf. "Thank you, Gil-dithen nín!" Legolas exclaimed as he extracted the bit of tart before it ended up in his hair. After popping the tart crumbles into his mouth and licking his fingers clean, Legolas hugged the little blond she-hobbit saying, "Oh Gil-dithen nín! Whatever I am going to do without you. I will be positively bereft." At this the blond child giggled and continued to eat her tartlet.

Frodo laughed and said, "Legolas, you certainly have a way with women." He then stood up and decided to make a toast, "I just wanted to say thank you to all my friends who have gathered here these last few weeks. Have a swift and safe journey home. I love you all very much." Frodo voice caught at that moment and he left unvoiced the thought that burned his heart. And shall miss you all very much. He looked at Sam who at that moment was studying the table with great interest. Oh Sam! thought Frodo, You most of all! I wish you could understand. In a clear voice he then raised his mug and said "To good friends and a fine table set!"

****************

** = Direct quote from either the book or screenplay.

Chapter 13 - Namarie

Autumn 1423 S.R.

Arwen stood on the ramparts of the citadel overlooking the many levels of Minas Tirith. She loved coming up here above the hustle and bustle of the lower levels. Up here she could feel the cool, fresh wind upon her face and claim a few precious moments of peaceful solitude. She smiled gently as she thought of Eowyn's sage counsel advising her to take advantage of the pampering that had been on offer when they had all been in the Shire during the spring. Arwen rarely these days had a spare moment to herself what with her queenly duties and looking after both husband and four-month old son.

She knew that it had been custom in Gondor for nurses to hold primary responsibility for the rearing of the royal children, but Gondorian traditions were foreign to her as they were to Aragorn, having grown up among the Elves in Rivendell and spending his adult life among the Northern Dunedin. Elven tradition saw that childrearing remain only within the immediate family and close kin and this she would hold to. Arwen again smiled at the remembered shock on the faces of the nurses when she informed them of her Elven ways. But be that as it may, she was still determined to enjoy her moments of solitude. She leaned forward against the cool stone of the rampart and delighted in the wind rippling through her unbound hair.

"You look absolutely beautiful."

Arwen turned around to see Aragorn standing just on the outside of the rampart door. She looked at her beloved and saw an unfurrowed brow and clear gray eyes looking back at her. "Conference going well, I trust." Aragorn had called a conference to discuss housing problems and successes in the Eriador settlements.

"Well enough for me to escape for a while to seek out my beautiful wife." Aragorn stated as he walked to the ramparts where she stood and gazed upon the scenery set below.

Arwen looked at him with a combination of amusement and accusation in her eyes, "You mean you got fed up, nearly lost your temper and left poor Faramir to smooth over a thorny problem!"

Aragorn at first feigned shock and then said, "You know me far too well, Madam! Some of these merchants would bleed us dry if they could. You would think they would be willing to help re-build Arnor! Instead they quibble over price! It angers me. Faramir is far more diplomatic than I, so I've left him to it," he finished sheepishly.

"Alas, my love! Not all are as giving as you."

"Perhaps." Aragorn reluctantly stated.

From behind came a slight clearing of a throat. The King and Queen of Gondor turned to see an apologetic young page make a low bow and await for his permission to speak. Aragorn nodded that the boy should continue, "Begging your pardon my liege, my lady, but your presence is requested downstairs."

Aragorn stifled a groan, "Faramir probably needs to discuss a point about the negotiations. I shall join you again, my lady, soon as I may."

The sheepish pageboy spoke up again, "Begging your pardon, my liege, but the request is for you both."

Arwen shot Aragorn a glance, "That is odd."

Aragorn said, "We shall follow directly. You may go." The page bowed and hastily left.

"Let us depart, my love, to quickly unravel this little mystery."

Aragorn and Arwen descended the ramparts and lower portions of the Citadel with what speed they dare. Upon gaining the main audience chamber, Arwen stopped short and then broke into a quick dash across the floor to be enfolded into strong arms, "Adar, when did you arrive?"

The Lord of Rivendell looked at his daughter, "I have only just arrived, Iell nin. But I am not here for long."

Arwen was about to say that he was welcome to stay as long as he liked, but something behind Elrond's eyes stopped her.

Aragorn stepped forward saying warmly, "You are most welcome, Adar! So wonderful is it to see you, again, so soon! Are the twins with you?" he asked as he clasped forearms with his foster father.

Elrond returned the warmth of the greeting, "Ion nin!, It is good to be here! Elladan and Elrohir have also made the trip, but they are seeing to the horses."

Aragorn looked hard at his beloved foster father, and felt something was different about him. His mind said You know exactly what is different but his heart quickly silenced the idea. "It is good to see you are here in Minas Tirith. You can see all that has been achieved."

Elrond smiled sadly at that and Aragorn's mind once again started its musings. His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the Lord of Rivendell say, by way of changing the subject, "It has been a long journey and I am in need of refreshment." Aragorn looked at his foster father's inscrutable face and realised Elrond was not prepared to give up his reasons for arrival until he was ready. So Aragorn signal to a page to escort the Lord of Rivendell to their best suite of guest rooms and sent word to the kitchens to prepare a special feast for dinner that night in honour of his and Arwen's dear Adar.

***

Elrond and his sons stayed a day and a night before revealing why they had made the journey. After breakfast Elrond asked, "Where is my grandson this morning, I must see him. Arwen, would you escort me?"

The nursery was quiet and cool as Arwen and Elrond entered. Arwen bade the nurse in attendance to give them leave for a few minutes. As the nurse curtseyed and left closing the door behind, Elrond gazed upon his gurgling grandson, saying, "He is beautiful, Arwen." Arwen noticed the slight catch in her father's voice became slightly alarmed, her bluish-violet eyes growing troubled.

Elrond reached in and pick-up the sturdy bundle of child, "You are a fine young man, you are. You'll grow to make your Ada and Nana very proud!" he said, bouncing the child in the crook of his right arm. Arwen smiled at the picture they made, grandfather and grandson together and her fears eased. When she realised that she was carrying the little boy she thought that Eldarion would never know his grandfather and said as much to Elrond. The Lord of Imladris stilled at those words and looked at his daughter, his eyes filled with compassion and emotion. In that instant Arwen knew exactly why he had come to Minas Tirith. At first she could not move, she could only stare into her father's eyes. She gulped once and tried to catch her breath, still unable to break the stare. Elrond saved her the trouble by turning way to place a kiss on the child's forehead and returning him to his cot. While he was tucking in the little tyke, Elrond said in a voice taut with emotion, "It is true. We ride for the Grey Havens."

The words, spoken softly, still rung in Arwen's ears as would a death knell. She had known this day would come and was at a loss to explain her reactions to this announcement. She found the rocking chair near the cot and rather ungracefully plopped on the beautifully carved piece of furniture. She simply sat there hugging herself and trying to control her roiling emotions. A part of her wanted to shout at her father and beg him to stay; plead with him to reconsider and the words, "Must you go? Can you not stay?" escaped before sense could stop them.

Elrond's heart cracked as he beheld his daughter's pain in the small, lost voice asking him to stay. He had felt a certain degree of happiness after he had made the decision to take the Straight Way. His torment and indecision had grown difficult and hard to bear and the choice of departure eased the weight pressing upon his heart over the last months. But seeing his beloved child so distraught and disoriented erased these feelings and left him feeling nothing but regret. He knelt at his daughter's side, eyes empathic, "Melldanya, you know I cannot do that." he said stroking her raven black hair. He lifted her head with his crooked finger, looking kindly into her troubled depths darkening to violet and whispered, "If I could stay, My Evenstar, I would. Alas, but I cannot. Forgive me?"

Arwen looked shocked at that, her eyes filling tears, "There is nothing to forgive, Ada. It is I who should ask you for forgiveness. Asking you to stay. Forgive me for being so selfish." Elrond drew her up from the chair and enfolded her into a large hug.

Aragorn at that moment entered the nursery to behold this scene, Elrond and Arwen embracing as if in farewell. The sensation of a knife ripping through his heart nearly debilitated him. Elrond looked as his foster son and Aragorn knew what had passed between father and daughter. He closed his eyes in an attempt to block out the pain until unshed tears began stinging them. Upon opening them he saw Elrond staring at him with a look of love and empathy etched on his face and offering his arm in an unmistakable invitation for an embrace. Aragorn, as he had done so often as a child, ran into the arms of the only father he had ever known. Theirs had been a difficult relationship over the years, but in the end Aragorn still loved his foster father beyond all reckoning. Elrond enfolded his two children, now grown tall and strong, into his arms, the tears flowing unabated from his pale blue eyes. "This parting is almost past my strength to bear," the Lord of Imladris whispered when he at last pulled away from the embrace.

He looked upon the tear-stained face of his beloved daughter and then upon his adored foster son, whose eyes were silver with tears threatening to pour out the pain of his heart. "Estel," he began fully, a gentle smile hinted at upon his face, "I could not have parted with my daughter for a lesser man. I know that you will always be worthy of her. I love you, ion nin. Always remember that. I could not be prouder of you than I am right now." Aragorn bowed his head with his hand on his heart, Elrond leaned and kissed the top of his foster son's head, "Be strong and compassionate always, Elessar, Namarie." When Aragorn looked up again Elrond saw the unshed tears flowing down his face. He sighed deeply and turned to his dearly loved daughter and saw that her light was dimming. "No! Iell nin. Do not let this parting dim the light upon you. That would cause me more sadness than I could possibly bear, even in the Undying Lands. You must promise me than you will forever fight against the dimming of your soul until…" Elrond could not finish the thought for it was too painful for either of them to contempt at such a moment. Elrond looked deeply into Arwen's troubled violet depths "Promise me, my beloved daughter, that you will look upon life with joy always in your heart."

Arwen had been staring at her father lost in her own sorrow, but hearing these words, she blinked slowly and seemed to recover herself. A bright smile lit her tear-stained face and she whispered, "I will, Ada. I will."

Elrond kissed her forehead and then kissed the closed tear-soaked lids and whispered "Namarie, my beloved. I must go, now. Elladan and Elrohir travel with me to the Grey Havens, but they will not take ship at this time."

He looked down at little Eldarion, "You may not come know your grandpapa, my dear child. But your Ada and Nana will see to it that you come to know your uncles and your heritage." He leaned in and picked up the infant one last time, "Grow strong and make your people proud, my dear, dear boy." Giving the child a quick hug and a kiss, he handed him to Arwen and Aragorn. "Be happy," Elrond's voice caught a little, "Namarie." With that he left the royal family in the nursery and strode purposefully down the hall to where his twin sons held their horses. Elrond mounted and looked behind him. He saw the three he had just left standing by on a balcony close to the nursery watching his departure, Aragorn lifting a hand in farewell. Elrond nodded and Elladan heard him murmur, "What should be, shall be" as they stepped off on Elrond's last journey through Middle Earth.

***

Autumn 1423 S. R. The Shire

The time was drawing near that Sam would lose his master to the Grey Havens. It was Autumn time and he knew that Frodo was slipping further and further away, but this time it was not due to "Remembrance" but rather Frodo's acceptance of a fate different from that of his Shire kindred. He tried talking to Rosie about it, but somehow he could not voice the idea of Frodo's leaving, as if to speak of it would somehow bring it about. Now he knew that nothing could stop that from happening. Frodo remained cheerful enough, but he would not discuss plans for the future, any plans. Save those he had tended to last night. He had cleared out his desk and set his papers in order. In the end he had given Sam the keys to Bag End and handed over the big red book that he had been working on. There was such finality in that gesture. Sam was looking over the leather-bound book skimming the pages. The stories set down on the pages were as familiar to him as were the flowers in his garden.

Upon seeing old Mr. Baggins handwriting, he flashed back to the times when he and Frodo had sat listening to Bilbo recount his adventures abroad. They were always so exciting. Then Frodo and he would go outside and act out the most exciting bits. How Old Mr. Bilbo rescued the dwarves from the three monstrous trolls, or how Old Mr. Bilbo outsmarted the Elven King to release his friends from the dungeons in Mirkwood. Sam smiled and then was brought up short by the realisation that the Elven King of those story times and pretenses was Legolas' father. Memory again intruded upon by reality. The childhood stories never mentioned that you might lose the best friend you ever had, nor did they teach you how to cope with pain of losing him. Suddenly he hated that book and all it represented because it was taking dear Mr. Frodo from him. "If Old Mr. Bilbo hadn't filled Frodo's head with them ideas, he would never have left and would safe and whole now!" Sam muttered, sorely tempted to throw the accursed book into the flames. A quiet voice from behind stopped him. "Now you know that's not true, Samwise Gamgee." He turned to see Frodo standing there leaning against the round doorway to his study. "It had to be me, I've accepted that. If we hadn't succeeded then Sauron would have beaten back the armies of the West and most of those who stood against him, most of those we love, would most likely be dead by now."

Sam stared at Frodo. "You admit now that your part of the Quest was a success."

Frodo shrugged, "Yes, I guess I am."

Sam started hopefully, "Then you are cured! And there is no need for you to leave ever!" But even as he spoke the words he knew them for the folly that they were.

Frodo looked at him with those big blue eyes and said, "I wish it were that simple, dear Sam. But I'm tired. Tired of fighting it, tired pretending that I can be whole again and I refuse to be a burden to my friends and family. Too much has happened to me, Sam. I don't belong here any more. You know that, deep in your heart."

"I don't know anything of the kind! I don't see why you can't just …" his voice trailed off as Frodo looked at him. "Well, It just doesn't seem right or fair!"

"You're right Sam, it isn't. But I have reflected long on what Gandalf said to me in the mines of Moria when I was bemoaning my fate to be the Ringbearer. He said 'So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.'** In the end I decided to complete my task, cost what it may. I was changed from the moment the task fell to me and I see now that no matter what I had chosen I could never go back. It isn't fair, but it is what had to happen. What is it that the Elves say? 'What should be, shall be.' It is true. I've accepted it. I dearly wish you could."

Sam sat at Frodo's desk feeling peevish and annoyed, at himself mostly. "You're right, but that doesn't mean I've got to like it."

"Dear Sam. What will I do without you?" Frodo pulled him from his chair into a big bear hug and Sam felt a few heartfelt tears soak through the thin cambric tunic that he stripped down to after coming inside.

***

Frodo sat near a knarled old tree with his favourite little flower bud sitting on his stomach. Elanor was busy testing out the relative bounciness of Frodo's stomach and Frodo was in the process of halting the experiment as he decided that the answer to this question was not of burning importance to the world in general. "Come on you little rascal, that's enough!" He grabbed her and started tickling her stomach mercilessly. She giggled and said, "Fro! Stop!" which of course he didn't. The giggling continued. In the few months since the spring Elanor had started to develop quite a vocabulary. She could as just demonstrated say "Stop!", also "Mama", "Papa" , "cat" and "Fro". She could not yet say "Frodo" but he supposed that this was the next best thing. Finally after much more giggling Frodo relented and stopped tickling the poor little lass.

"Oh, my sweet little flower bud, how I wish I could stay and watch you become the beauty that I know you will become. But alas, I cannot." He hugged Elanor and kissed the top of her golden head. Elanor grew still and peered into the older Hobbit's eyes smiling tentatively. She seemed to sense Frodo's sadness and kissed him on the nose. Frodo laughed and exclaimed, "Oh you sweet, sweet little thing! How I shall miss you!" He sobered quickly and looked at the child, who returned the gaze with a solemnity that was not her usual wont. "Elanor, little flower bud! I want tell you something. I have go away now. I don't want to but I must." He reached out and brushed a strand of golden hair that the wind had just blown over, away from her face, "I love you my girl. You have been my little light through some very dark times. I will always love you. Remember that."

Frodo reached into his pocket and pulled out what seemed to be a shining star caught within a jewel set on a slender mithril chain. It was indeed the jewel that Arwen had gifted to him on their parting after the Ring War. He had had Gimli take it back to his people to be re-set in a new mithril mounting. It had only just arrived yesterday. "I want you to have this jewel given to me by Queen Arwen herself, as a way of remembering me. I'll not be needing it where I am going and I think it only fitting for it to adorn the fairest hobbit-maid in the land."

Elanor's eyes were shining as she reached out to touch the star. Frodo smiled gently as he looked upon the little girl's face. "Here, let's see it on you, my lass." Frodo placed the jewel around her neck and fastened the clasp. The jewel lay lightly upon the little girl's chest and glowed faintly. "It looks beautiful. Come let us show the others. It is time to go." At this Frodo got to his feet and held the little girl's hand as they walked back to the house. Sam was waiting for them outside the front door. He could see them from far off as the jewel glowed with a radiance all its own. As they came closer, Sam was surprised by the look on Frodo's face. There was contentment and a glowing peacefulness written there and it almost seemed as if he were viewing Frodo as he would be and not as he was. When Frodo looked up he saw Sam and smiled. A weight lifted from Sam at that moment. He was still sad at Frodo's leaving, but he now knew beyond all certainty that he would indeed see Frodo again although not in the Shire. He laughed and ran to meet them.

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**= direct quote from either book or film screenplay. I tried not to quote directly if I could help it, but these few lines really needed to be included.