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STORY ON HIATUS FOR RE-WRITES. IF YOU WILL LIKE TO FOLLOW ALONG, YOU CAN READ IT HERE UNTIL I AM CAUGHT UP WITH THE STORY ON THIS SITE.

This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the private enjoyment of Council of Elrond story readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.**
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It was now several days since the marriage of Aragorn and Arwen and the celebrations in the city were winding down. The newly wedded couple was keenly cognizant of the fact that they would soon be parting with their friends, some for a little while, and others forever. Since Aragorn had been king for several months preceding the wedding, many decisions regarding his realm were already executed. As such, he elected to delegate routine decisions of his kingdom to his council members for as long as Arwen’s family continued in Minas Tirith. And so, to the good fortune of the Fellowship members and his new kin, he dedicated many hours to their entertainment.

In the day past, Aragorn and Arwen had accompanied their guests on an extensive tour of Minas Tirith. Already most of the damage rendered to the city during the Siege was completely repaired and the city was a reflection of its earlier self in the days of Lord Denethor, former steward of Gondor. Legolas and Gimli had recently pledged their assistance to Aragorn to restore Minas Tirith to a beauty surpassing that of Minas Tirith of old, even during the days of Isildur. However, despite the promised enhancement to the city, it was still a beautiful image to behold: a sparkling white city designed in numerous circular levels.

Arwen took great pleasure in acquainting herself to her new home, much to her husband’s gratification. He was pleased to witness the delight with which she questioned their guide about the changes implemented in the city since Isildur’s reign. The thought had occurred to him that the transition for her might be difficult but his fears were much allayed by her enthusiasm. He knew that the days to come would be difficult for them both and it was comforting to know that at least Arwen would be able to adjust comfortably to her new surroundings.

He had personally overseen the necessary arrangements in the Royal Suite to facilitate the anticipated needs and pleasures of his betrothed before her arrival. In hindsight, he felt that his labor was sanguinely rewarded by the ease with which she succumbed to her new environs. Nevertheless, there was one thought that still weighed heavily upon his mind. The day of many partings, from family and friends, was fast approaching. Eomer was set to arrive within three days to bear King Theoden’s body back to Rohan and when he departed, their entire party of friends was set to depart with him.

Ever sensible of the precious little time left to spend with their companions, Aragorn and Arwen made good use of their time with them. Indeed, Arwen shared many affectionate conversations with Galadriel during their daily walks in the garden situated in the rear of the Royal residence. During these walks, Galadriel imparted many words of wisdom regarding the governance of a realm and its people. Most importantly, however, she gently emphasized Arwen’s need to cherish every moment of her new life with Aragorn now that she was also subject to the doom appointed to men. But Arwen ardently assured her that she was quite determined to live life to its fullest; she could not soon forget the many years of long-suffering and labor; the harvest indeed was a worthy recompense for past anxieties.

On the second day before they were scheduled to depart for Rohan, Galadriel walked with Arwen in the garden as the sun began its descent. It was a beautiful day; the sky was a clear, crisp blue and the wind blew lightly. The gentle rustling of leaves, the chirping of birds in the surrounding trees, and the splashing sound of the fountain located at the center of the garden were the only sounds that filled the air. Both ladies had been engaged in a light pleasurable conversation about the surrounding flowers and trees when Galadriel decided to broach a subject that she had hesitated to introduce in the past several days.

Clasping Arwen’s hand, she led her to one of the benches sheltered by a tall ancient tree. She patted the seat next to her and Arwen complied. Still clasping Arwen’s hand, Galadriel turned to face her. Arwen looked at Galadriel with a searching expression. Galadriel smiled and Arwen saw the unshed tears shining in her grandmother’s eyes. She gently squeezed Galadriel’s hand as a sign of understanding.

“My dearest Evenstar,” whispered Galadriel while smoothing Arwen’s hair from her face as her voice betrayed her emotions. “If only your mother could witness your felicity.”

Arwen smiled but her eyes were likewise filled with tears. For a moment her eyes were cast down at her hand clasped within her grandmother’s grasp; then the wretched tears began to flow steadily. She looked up and her lips trembled as she said, “But would she have been pleased? Grandmother, I cannot tell you what I have suffered in mind fearing her reception of my choice. My conscience condemns me, though my heart does not.”

Galadriel pulled Arwen close as she cradled her head on her shoulder; she sighed. The inner turmoil of emotions she was experiencing overwhelmed her greatly. Gently stroking Arwen’s hair, she turned and planted a kiss atop her head. At length, she spoke as the tears flowed silently.

“Child, no one who has ever stood in your place would be any less tormented. But the higher purpose of destiny is no respecter of persons. Your union with Elessar was ordained for a noble end; I am also persuaded that with great sacrifice therein lies great love. Celebrian may never fully comprehend your decision and her grief may never be lessened; but her matchless love for you might yet enable her to overcome.”

Turning the side of her cheek to rest on Arwen’s hair, Galadriel added in a resigned tone, “But let us afflict our hearts no further by dwelling on this matter. Celebrian may yet receive tidings of you in the years to come and that, at least, will suffice for the woeful days.”

In her heart, Arwen despaired. “I cannot bear to think of the separation to come,” she whispered almost involuntarily. But almost immediately she rallied her spirits before passionately adding, “My love for Estel and his love for me will sustain me; that must be my consolation.”

Galadriel smiled at Arwen’s comment. She continued to smooth Arwen’s hair as she said, “And no greater comfort there is. I have loved him dearly through the years and I am entirely confident in his great love for you. He is an honorable man. Elrond says rightly that he resembles Elendil, the tall, in words and deeds. There is very little else that would give me greater pleasure than witnessing the fruit of your unwavering patience endured through these many years.” She sighed, as she momentarily reflected. “But,” said she, “I am at last weary of Middle-earth and go I must to Valinor for much needed rest and recovery.”

Arwen turned to observe her and for the first time she discerned the weariness and sorrow in her grandmother’s eyes. Her heart quailed; the futility of her hope was forcibly impressed upon her mind; all hope of once again seeing her grandmother was overthrown; she was now grievously convinced that her grandmother would soon diminish and journey into the West. But before she could succumb to the overwhelming grief that threatened, Galadriel spoke.

“This will not do! ” she declared. “Let us speak of things that are more edifying. There are many years of joy to come and my heart forebodes well. And if you can allow the foolish hopes of a dear grandmother, you might yet meet again your sundered kin.”

Arwen smiled faintly. “I should never dare to hope, Grandmother, lest hope ventured is bitterly denied.”

Galadriel gently smoothed the tears from Arwen’s face. “Nevertheless, I think we can both agree that while hope underlies our sorrows, the journey is somewhat lightened.” She rose to her feet and stretched out her hand to Arwen. “Might we continue? It is such a beautiful evening!”

They continued to take a turn around the garden, walking in mutual silence and reverence to the surrounding beauty. Galadriel was the first to speak as she placed an arm around Arwen’s shoulder, hugging her close as they strolled.

“I think my dear that your heart will be gladdened by new tidings,” she averred.

Arwen’s curiosity was stirred. “New tidings?” asked she, scrutinizing her grandmother’s face.

Galadriel’s smile broadened as she hugged Arwen closer to her. “Melian is to remain with you in Minas Tirith,” she enthusiastically disclosed.

“Melian!” Arwen excitedly exclaimed. “Why have she never spoken of this?”

“We desired to reveal it only in that moment when it would afford the greatest pleasure. There is much happiness to be derived from giving and hearing these tidings, especially during this time of grievous partings.” Galadriel examined her grand daughter’s countenance. “I hope I have chosen well!”

Arwen lips parted in a brilliant smile. “I assure you that there is no small pleasure in all this that you have relayed. But is it certain? I can scarcely allow myself to accept it!”

Arwen’s spirit was much elated by the news. Milan was her grandfather Celeborn’s niece; a relationship established through his sister. Her parents now resided in Valinor with her other siblings. Though she was Arwen’s senior by a few decades, a close bond had developed between the two ladies during Arwen’s sojourn in Lothlorien with her grandparents. She thought it would be wonderful to have Milan with her as a close friend and a link to the elven world that was rapidly fading.

Galadriel’s voice forced Arwen from her brief reverie. “It is already settled between her and Elessar!” she confirmed. “I admit that it gladdens my heart that there will be at least two left from the Eldar days to teach your children well.” She abruptly halted her stroll and turned to Arwen, “There is much that they will have to learn about their ancestry. However, I fear that if good records are not kept, your descendents will consider the achievements of their ancestors nothing short of myth.”

But Arwen smiled curiously at Galadriel. “It seems grandmother, that Father has neglected to share his recent endeavors with you,” she gently teased. “These past months, he has commandeered a diverse collection of records to create a family library in the Royal Residence. Estel and I spoke of this before he departed Imladris a year ago. At that time, our hope seemed vain. Nevertheless, as our lot was invariably to be cast with the foolish, we persisted is speaking of this concern. When tidings came that the Ringbearer was successful in his quest, I took counsel with my father regarding our hope. Though I could not say if my request was more of pain than pleasure to him, I discerned some element of approbation in his spirits. Thenceforth, with an evident labor of love, he spent many hours gathering and building an impressive collection. As we speak, he and Estel are arranging the records in the room designated for this purpose.”

Galadriel smiled. “I should have known that you would have given thought to this.” Then, as though prompted by the soft sunset that graced the aging sky, she quickly reminded Arwen of the evening ahead. “King Eomer, I understand, has arrived in Minas Tirith.”

“Yes!” Arwen gravely replied. “Our departure hastens with his coming.” Galadriel gently pressed her hand. “Grandmother, perhaps I ought to have voiced my gratitude before, but I want you to know that Estel and I are ever sensitive of the role you have played in initiating our beautiful journey; your support throughout the years has been a source of strength for us. Even when the odds were multiplied against us, you encouraged us.”

“Child, the only thanks I ask is that you both treasure every moment of the years to come. It is reward enough to have witnessed your renewed pledge of love to Elessar, and he to you, at that wonderful ceremony, near the White Tree of Nimloth, several days ago. At long last you were both able to fulfill that pledge made so long ago, upon the hill of Cerin Amroth, when you plighted your troth and forsook the twilight.”

Arwen smiled as she softly kissed her grandmother on the cheek. “How shall I endure without you? Tis cruel indeed!”

“The love of your husband and the joy of your children will sustain you,” Galadriel affirmed.

“I do believe it is as you say, but I do foresee moments of dejection,” Arwen admitted. “Oh, how I shall miss you!”

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