Okay, I am still not satisfied but I reallly need to begin writing the next chapter…I hope you guys like it.

I just received a review that the dialogue does not reflect the essence of the characters so I was wondering if that is also the opinion of some of you. The problem is that we were never really exposed to the domestic lives of these characters since the War of the Ring basically covered a grim year in the lives of the characters. Also, I try to write the dialogue in old proper english. To a degree I try to emulate Tolkien’s style. For example, here is one of my favorite quotes from the book:

“But is there aught else that you desire of me at our parting? For darkness will flow between us, and it may be that we shall not meet again, unless it be far hence upon a road that has no returning.” Galadriel

“Lady, you know all my desire, and long held in keeping the only treasure I seek. Yet it is not yours to give me, even if you would; and only through darkness shall I come to it.” Aragorn

Okay, now for my view of the characters:

Aragorn: Strong, stern, wise, sad, noble
Arwen: Exceptionally beautiful, sad (as is all the Eldar), noble, wise, kind
Faramir: Touch of the sadness of the Eldar, noble, kind, possesses pity
Eowyn: Beautiful, strong-willed, brave, kind (changes to healer)
Eomer: Fearless, strong, kind, (need to grow some more)
Imrahil: Proud, noble, kind
Legolas: Wise, loyal, kind, brave
Gimli: Loyal, stubborn, hardy

Now, I would very much like to know what you think. Thanks.
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The following morning the host of travelers made ready to depart for Minas Tirith. A small band of soldiers were to remain behind under the command of the captain who had trained Nessa and her comrades. He was charged with the task of training any able-bodied village men who volunteered to learn, even in some small way, the tactics of defense. For now it was a temporary solution to the villagersÂ’ concerns for security until the king settled on a more permanent resolution.

Before Aragorn left that morning, he attended to his patient for the last time. He had summoned the presence of the village healer leaving with him strict instructions regarding the boyÂ’s post-care. The wound was mending superbly and he was wary lest any negligence on the part of the healer served to impair the boyÂ’s full recovery. As a precaution, he discreetly requested the captainÂ’s presence during his consultation with the healer. He had no wish to overtly display his minimal confidence in the skills of the healer but he also preferred that his fears for the boyÂ’s constitution be lessened along the road to Minas Tirith.

At the campsite, there was a bustle of activities. The tents were disassembled and the wains bearing various personal effects and necessities were saddled to sturdy horses. Arwen was standing beside her horse, brushing its neck while she spoke with Morwen. She had been correct in her assumption. Nessa had slept only briefly during the night and it was apparent in her motion. Her anxiety had kept her awake and she was still agitated from her excitement. She was vaguely listening to her motherÂ’s conversation with Arwen, interjecting only when prompted by her mother. She was preoccupied with her hope of seeing Elendur. It was difficult for her to believe that he would miss seeing her off even though he had forewarned her. A tiny part of her hoped that for once he would be spontaneous.

“Are you expecting someone?” Melian asked her as she approached from behind.

Her color heightened. “Am I that obvious?” she asked reservedly.

Melian smiled reassuringly. “Only to the keen observer. Though I must say that your repeated glances in one particular direction alerted me to your anxious state of mind.” Nessa’s eyes fell to the ground. “We still have a while before the king returns.” She touched Nessa’s arm. “There is still a chance he will come.”

But Aragorn returned some time later and still Elendur had not shown. The riders began mounting their horses and Nessa hugged and kissed Morwen before following suit. Her heart was heavy and her smile forced.

“Mother, will you say my farewell to Elendur?”

“I will my child,” Morwen replied. “Now go with the protection of the Valar until we meet again.”

“I will send word as soon as I am settled. Farewell.” She held the reins of her horse firmly and guided it alongside Melian’s horse. Aragorn gave the order and the riders made ready to depart. She waved to her mother one last time before jockeying her horse forward and through the eastern gates. She never knew that some distance away, Elendur stood watching as she joined the procession of riders on their route to exit the village.

The next several days took them through the realm of Anorien then on to Gondor. The afternoon before their arrival in Minas Tirith, they made camp long before sunset. It was Prince ImrahilÂ’s intention to journey to Dol Amroth shortly after arriving in the White City so Aragorn thought it would be productive to utilize some additional time to discuss their common affairs. In the meantime, Arwen joined Melian and Nessa in the tent they shared. Melian had insisted that it would not inconvenience her to share her space. At first Nessa was uncomfortable with her imposition but soon reasoned that it was a temporary situation which, for the moment, could not be helped. Moreover, the time spent with Melian served to further develop a friendship between them. There was little time for her to reflect on her disappointment at not seeing Elendur. Her days were filled with sightseeing and corresponding histories, thanks to the attentions of Prince Imrahil while at nights Melian kept her well entertained. She found MelianÂ’s candor a novelty to savor and her spirits equally refreshing. Already Melian had suggested to her that she should allow her tresses to grow since it was her belief that it would noticeably enhance her beauty. That suggestion she was unopposed to. For some time before she had given serious thought to allowing her hair to grow. Hence, MelianÂ’s proposal had only assisted in cementing her decision.

The next issue that Melian endeavored to champion was the matter of her attire. For now she had successfully resisted her efforts to coax her into wearing dresses. She was not ready for that step. She felt more comfortable in her trousers and shirts. Fortunately, Arwen had supported her in her preference.

“Melian, I think you should leave her be. She is accustomed to her own style. If she ever intends to alter her style, let her first make that choice then we will be happy to assist her,” Arwen had pleaded. She felt that her cousin was too disposed to being officious where Nessa was concerned.

“I suppose you are right. Well, so much for my noble efforts,” Melian had replied lightheartedly.

Currently, Nessa lied prostrate on her cot twirling a coin between her fingers. She listened to Arwen and Melian who spoke together while Melian’s waiting lady refreshed her braids. “Is that a Mirian you have there, Nessa?” Arwen inquired.

“A Mirian?” she in turn asked. “What exactly is a Mirian?”

Melian had turned to look as well. Arwen walked over to Nessa scrutinizing the coin. “Why, yes, it is a Mirian: an elvish coin. Where on earth did you find it? We rarely trade beyond our realms and certainly not this far south.”

“It was found in the Western woods of our village. I keep it in memory of a pivotal moment in my life.” It was the same coin that had fallen from the boy’s limp hand when her comrades had lifted him. It had been her intent to return it to him but she had only remembered a few days after departing the village.

Arwen pondered for a moment. “It must have fallen when my brothers were in that part of the woods. There can be no other explanation for it. It shows no sign of extended wear.” She returned the coin to Nessa.

“That makes sense,” Melian agreed. “From the accounts of Elladan and Elrohir, they had been in both the eastern and western woods of the village.”

“Where are your brothers?” Nessa asked. She rose on her elbow, her palm supporting her head.

Arwen paused for a moment; a sad smile clouded her visage. “They are with my father in Imladris, my former home in the north.”

“Yes,” said Melian interjecting to rescue her cousin. “Now, what do you say to getting your hair braided, Nessa?” Arwen smiled gratefully at Melian. It was small moments like those that made her appreciate her even more.

“The answer is still the same as it was last night, Melian.” Nessa was still twirling the coin between her fingers.

“Then I will keep trying every night until it changes,” Melian teased.

Nessa could not help laughing. “I really admire your perseverance.”

“It is purely for a good cause,” Melian returned distractedly. She was examining the braids that her waiting lady had already completed.

“I pity you, Nessa,” Arwen declared. “She can be relentless at times.”

“Aye, but I may prove a more difficult subject than she has ever encountered,” Nessa answered bemusedly.

“That you may,” Arwen acknowledged. “But it might only serve in fueling her efforts to no end. However, there has been enough said on this matter. Tomorrow night you can resume your debate. I must leave you to your own devices since the hour of dining approaches swiftly.” She turned to leave for her tent. “I will see you both shortly?” The two nodded their heads in affirmation.

The next day the host arrived on the outskirts of the city around midday. They passed through the fields of Pelennor then onward to the temporary gates on the first level of the city. Word spread quickly through the streets that the royal couple had at last returned after a month of absence. There were many onlookers as the host made its way to the upper levels of the city, passing through seven gates, each situated in differing directions on each level. At last when they came to the topmost part of the city, they were forced to relinquish their horses into the care of the horse attendants who oversaw the operation of the royal stables. The servants were left to attend to the belongings of the dignitaries before ascending into the high city. Aragorn was anxious to be apprised of the happenings since his departure so he and the other men went directly into the Citadel. Prince Imrahil said his farewell to the ladies then but not before promising them that he would return with his two sons and daughter to visit with them soon.

After the exchange of farewells, Arwen, Melian and Nessa bent their footsteps toward the royal residence via the paved streets of the city. They walked past the courtyard of the Citadel where Nimloth, the White Tree of Gondor, continued to flourish beside an exquisite water fountain. It was a wonder to see the growth that it had achieved in the short space of time since the king had discovered it as a sapling in the barren hills beyond the city. Arwen and Melian were humbled by its splendor for they knew in full the history of its beginnings and anything that was in origin a product of Valinor they respectfully revered.

Leaving the courtyard they moved in a direction that led between the Citadel and the mountain of Mindolluin where the houses and domed tombs of bygone kings and lords were situated. They halted before an arched gate that was wrought in mithril with the symbols of a flowering tree, a crown and seven pointed stars. On either side of the gate stood two silent guards adorned in the livery of the king.

The three entered the gates, issuing unto a lengthy paved path that led directly to the rectangular steps of a white stone house of grandiose proportions. It appeared to be set against the backdrop of Mindolluin with a generous expanse of well-manicured lawn before it. A carefully tended flowery hedge bordered either side of the path and lent some privacy to the grounds beyond. The house itself was built from marble as was the interior and all paved paths on the exterior of the house. Nessa wondered at the beauty and ancientry of the house, whose marble exterior sparkled gloriously in the midday sun. By the time they arrived before the two tall glass doors of the house, her admiration was magnified. The house displayed numerous tall glass windows and terraces, it seemed, in every room.

Arwen looked at her. “Well, what is your opinion?” Melian stood expectantly as well.

“There are hardly words that are befitting to the splendor of this house. Is it all wrought in marble?”

“Yes,” Arwen replied. “The interior floors and walls are all wrought in white marble as well. It was the house of kings while a king reigned in Gondor, but was unoccupied for numerous years until now.”

“It is so incredibly grand. How many floors are there?”

“Four,” Arwen answered. “Each floor has at least two wings.” She looked up admiringly at the house. “I have yet to discover all the rooms in this house. It perfectly represents the skill of the Numenoreans in their years of glory.” She turned to look at Nessa. “Well, shall we go in?”

Nessa nodded. They ascended the steps and the doors were pulled open for them from the inside. When Nessa stepped into the spacious lobby, her astonishment increased. As Arwen had said, the floors were wrought in white marble and they were illumined with a polished shine. Arwen ushered her forward giving her a brief tour of the immediate area in which they traversed.

“Here is the formal dinning room which we seldom use.” Nessa looked around. She immediately understood why the room was used infrequently. The dining table was the longest she had ever seen. It had matching high back, light cream, cushioned chairs that lent an air of formality. The long windows in the room worked wonderfully to heighten its excellence especially since they presented a perfect view of the gardens.

They moved on to a formal sitting room. Nessa was instantly captivated by its loveliness. The color scheme for the room was of a light cream as were all its furniture. It was an elegant room that was tastefully arranged. However, the most appreciative element of the room was the wide double glass doors that opened directly unto the lawn and into the gardens.

Arwen curtailed showing her the rest of the first floor but encouraged her to do so in her leisure time. She informed her that the first floor also housed a large library with histories and works of Numenor, a study, a music room, a ballroom, the kitchen, and various other rooms including those for the servants and some of their maidens.

“What is wonderful about the rooms on this floor is that most of them open unto the lawn or gardens. Our head cook has the largest bedchamber on this floor. He often refers to it as his haven away from the clamor.” There was a twinkle in Arwen’s eyes. She had known the cook all her life yet she was still amused by his enigmatic personality.

Melian rolled her eyes. “He says rightly that in some ways it reminds him of Imladris and, on that point, I entirely agree with him.”

“Where are the other occupants of this house?” Nessa asked. She followed Arwen further along the spacious hall until they halted at the bottom of a graceful white staircase sat against the wall. The steps were slightly circular and wound to the second floor in a faint semi-circle design.

Arwen smiled. “Most are probably attending to their duties. Remember, there are halls you have not seen on this floor.” They began ascending the stairs until they arrived at the lobby of the second floor. “On this floor we have among other primary rooms, the Gallery of Kings.” They walked a brief distance along the corridor to another identical staircase, which led to the third floor.

Nessa audibly gasped. At the top of the third floor stood an astonishing sight. In all the radiance of the Eldar stood an incredibly beautiful and ancient being. Her beauty was luminous and a glow surrounded her. She was adorned entirely in white and her plentiful braids fell all around her. In her face was an immense light and, at closer view, her eyes revealed the burden of her abundant memories.

So it was for the first time that Nessa beheld she who was born in the blessedness of Valinor when the light of the two trees was still a marvel. Like most of her kindred, she had also learned from Aule himself when the Noldor was in the spring of their youth. But like them, she also had rebelled against the Valar in unheeding the counsel of Manwe, much to her eternal shame and that of her kindred. Yet, the Valar has since forgiven their impudence and she too now had their blessing to return to her long home beyond the sea.

“I have been expecting you for the past week,” she said greeting Arwen and Melian who had ascended the stairs to hug and kiss her. “Where is Estel?”

“He went directly to the Citadel to be updated with the affairs of the kingdom,” Arwen told her.

Aredhel frowned. “Well, I suppose he must attend to the claims of duties. I shall be forced to await his arrival later today. I assume Amandil accompanied him?”

“Yes,” Arwen confirmed to her. Aredhel’s excessive fondness for the Dunedain of the North was equal to that of her brothers’. Long ago she had deduced that the foundation of their affection was chiefly based on the love they felt for Elros. They had learned enough of him from Aredhel and their father to inspire a deep feeling of love toward his memory.

Aredhel looked at Nessa then. “Who is the little one who now stands in my presence?” Arwen introduced her to Nessa, who was still enamored by the magnificence of the elvish woman. “Welcome to you Nessa,” she warmly said while taking her hand. She turned to Arwen and Melian, “I will have her roomed across from you, Melian.”

“Splendid. It will be wonderful to finally have company in the western wing,” Melian replied. She turned to Nessa saying, “I am certain that you are exhausted from the week’s journey. I shall show you directly to your room.”

Nessa was pleased with MelianÂ’s proposal. Undeniably, her muscles ached from the incessant horse back riding and she was anxious to reap the restorative benefit of a comfortable bed.

The two ladies excused themselves then but not before Melian promised Arwen and Aredhel that she would join them later that day. She guided Nessa along the wide left wing corridor of the third floor passing a room with closed double doors. She paused in her steps. “This is another music room that we utilize mainly to demonstrate our artistic talent,” she told Nessa humorously while pushing open the wide doors. A pleasant and comfortable room was revealed. It was fitted up with white comfortable sofas and glorious lightings. Various musical instruments, including a golden harp situated in a far corner, occupied the room. On both the north and south of the room were grand terrace doors that issued unto balconies each displaying different aspects of the gardens below. Mindolluin was also a picture to behold from the northern balcony.

“We leave both terrace doors open in the night while we are here.” Melian informed her. “The view is particularly breathtaking at nights. You will soon find that the elves sleep very little and can sing and be merry all night. The night breeze is generally invigorating to those who lack the ability to conquer their lethargy.” A trace of humor was in her eyes.

Nessa comprehended her perfectly. MelianÂ’s witty allusion to her mortal companions had not eluded her attention.

“Have no fear,” Melian continued, “your room is far enough from here to lock out the nocturnal habits of my kindred.”

“I was beginning to wonder if I will be condemned to perpetual sleepless nights,” Nessa good-humoredly said. She surveyed the room in its entirety. “This is a very delightful room. I already look forward to the pleasure of the evenings.”

“I am glad to hear it.” Melian exited the room with Nessa, closing the doors behind them. “Now, along this corridor is your room.” They made several turns until Melian halted before a mahogany door. She opened it and they entered into a spacious bedchamber with a generous sized bed. She walked over to the terrace doors pulling them open. “Come with me,” she waved to Nessa. They stepped out unto a marble balcony overlooking the gardens below. “Well, what is your opinion?”

Nessa’s smile broadened. “Simply lovely,” she told Melian. “I can not imagine ever growing use to this. It is all so incredibly beautiful.”

Melian smiled. She was pleased that Nessa seemed genuinely delighted with her new surroundings. Before she quitted the bedchamber, she guided Nessa into an adjoining room, purposed for refreshing herself. “I will leave for my bedchamber now. The servants will ensure that your belongings are brought up. Let me know if there is anything you need. My room is across the hall though a little further down.”

“Are we the only ones on this floor?”

“No,” Melian replied. “Amandil alone resides in the other wing. The other rooms are unoccupied.”

“And the king and queen?”

“On the fourth floor as is Aredhel,” Melian returned. “You may seek me out after you have rested. If I am not in my bedchamber, ask one of the servants. They will point you in my direction.” Nessa thanked her for her kindness before allowing her to close the doors.

On the fourth floor, Aredhel had accompanied Arwen to the royal suites, which housed the master bedchamber, a relatively small sitting room, and various other rooms for the royal couple’s use. “How are you faring my child?” Aredhel asked Arwen as they sat side by side on a white sofa in the private sitting room.

“Fairly well, I believe,” Arwen honestly replied. “I will not deny that there are times when my sorrow overpowers me, but for the most part I am well.”

Aredhel hugged her to her side. “I am happy I remained with you and Estel,” she quietly stated.

“And we could not be more pleased that you chose to remain with us.” Arwen was sincerely grateful. Through Aredhel, the unconditional love that they had experience in Imladris continued to flourish. She was endlessly affectionate to Aragorn and her and they in turned loved her greatly.

She kissed Arwen atop her head. “You were both my last charges in Imladris and I am honored to continue so.” She hugged Arwen closer to her as the memories of the years flooded her conscious thoughts.

She was niece to the great smith Mahtan, who, among the Noldor, was most dear to Aule and beloved father to Nerdanel, FeanorÂ’s wife. Partly due to AuleÂ’s love of Mahtan, she was distinguished with the privilege to learn under the instruction of the Valar himself. She was exceptionally skilled in creations of the hand, but her greatest asset thrived in the wealth of her knowledge. It was during the time of the Noldor unrest that her thirst for greater knowledge had awoken. Thoughts of the unknown had swiftly begun to prey upon her desire and she had soon begun to pine to explore the world beyond Aman.

Like most of the other exiles, she too had harkened to the seditious rant of Feanor though with a different purpose in mind. She cared not for his quest for the Silmarils; a deed her heart had foreboded would end in misery. More grievous to her was the oath sworn by his sons knowing that it would greatly sadden their mother. For, though by marriage Feanor had become her kin, she entertained minimal sentiment of love toward him. That he was gifted she had acknowledged, but her closer acquaintance with him had only served to erode the initial esteem that she had once harbored for me. Consequently, when the host had made ready to depart the city of Tirion, she had elected to march under the leadership of Fingolfin whom, since the loss of Finwe, most had considered to be their king.

Her departure from the city of Tirion had been a weary struggle between her wisdom and her desire. In the past she had heard several accounts of the outer land from those who had awoken in that darkened and perilous land. But to those accounts she ascribed little credit since she strongly believed that the beauty of Valinor had tainted the recollections of most. Nevertheless, she had experienced some hesitation on forsaking the beautiful home she loved. Moreover, there was more to be emended when she heard the counsel of prudence sent by Manwe Sulimo, the High King of Arda. He had urged to caution their impetuous exodus from the blessed land of Valinor. The gravity of his message had veritably shaken her will prompting her to doubt her proceeding.

Yet, onward she had kept while glancing back repeatedly at the city of Tirion, the only home she had ever known and loved. Mahtan had advised her against irrationally yielding to the passion of her yearnings and her lifeÂ’s love, who was of the Vanyar race, had explicitly forbidden it. For a while, her respect for their wishes had cooled her fervor but it was not potent enough to conquer her desire. Rather, it had only served to heighten the inner conflict that had waged in the arena of her mind. Hence, with a heavy heart and a perturbed mind, she had followed onward with the rest of the host.

In Alqualonde, when the Kinslaying had ensued, she had no part in it. From the beginning, she had seriously doubted the innocence of FeanorÂ’s actions although in truth, the host in which she had traveled had only arrived at the conclusion of that reputed battle. Nevertheless, her grief had been great for the loss of the Teleri and an inconsolable sadness had fiercely gripped her heart. It had not escaped her notice that the manifestation of ManweÂ’s warning had already begun, for, sorrow and guilt had crippled many after the battle was won.

But greater still was her grief in hearing the Prophecy of Doom declared by Mandos, the Doomsman of the Valar. Only then had she learned in full the egregious deeds of Feanor and the rest of her kindred. With that revelation, her heart had grown heavy with shame, for, though she was guiltless in the shedding of innocent blood, she felt profoundly troubled by her association with those who had partaken in that crime. In their disgrace she had been fully intertwined and nothing then could have persuaded her to retrace her footsteps homeward. That Feanor had deceived them they then realized and many had quitted the march being embittered by his treachery. But there was no longer a choice for her or so she had reasoned. For, through the depraved actions of the others, she had willingly submitted to exile in her desire for penitence.

Thereafter, the hardships of her journey had multiplied. Of that renowned crossing of the Helcaraxe, she had been a part though Maglor, whom she loved dearly, had entreated her to join their party in the ships departing across the sea. But, by that time her intolerance for Feanor had penetrated an unforgivable depth and not once had she later repented her refusal of MaglorÂ’s offer during that daunting crossing over cruel mountains of ice. In that journey, she had helplessly watched as many perished until they succeeded at last in their quest for Middle-earth.

In Middle earth, for a time she dwelt in the house of Finrod, for she also was of high lineage through her close kinship with the High King, Ingwe. Later when Finrod had built Nargothrond, she removed there with him and the rest of the Noldor who took him to be their king. There they had peace for some time until Finrod decided to honor his pledge to Barahir and accompanied Beren on his quest for the Silmaril. Before he left, he had conferred his kingship to Orodreth, his younger brother to govern Nargothrond in his absence. But she had known in her heart that with FinrodÂ’s departure, the home she had grown to love in the years of her exile would soon cease to be her refuge. She knew that Orodreth had not the power to restrain Celegorm and Curufin, the sons of Feanor, who were then residing in that safe stronghold. In FinrodÂ’s absence, already they had succeeded in swaying the hearts of most to their will and soon they had renounced Orodreth as their king. But her decision to quit Nargothrond came when she discovered that Luthien, King ThingolÂ’s daughter was being forcibly held against her will. The knowledge of it had burdened her and the need to escape to MaglorÂ’s realm in the North pressured her. She disliked leaving Nargothrond to travel in danger to the north but it was of little consequence in comparison to her fear of the nefarious deeds of Curufin and Celegorm. Hence, together with a few other Noldor elves, she had braved the perilous road northward on the heels of the scathing words of the two brothers who had resented her air of piety. Orodreth had begged her to use reason but her determination was inexorable. She would not by any means suffer the leadership of either brother. Hence, through much danger she and the other elves came at last to the north where Maglor warmly welcomed them.

Much did she later rue her actions since long did she witness the fruit of that abhorrent oath of the sons of Feanor. Maglor she loved dearly but for NerdanelÂ’s sake she had given credit to those of her other sons that were of like mind with her. Yet, the oath they had pledged worked ever to create discord. Through their grievous deeds she had suffered and bitterly, she had repented her coming forth from Valinor. Her intended designs she had procured at the cost of her serenity and her lofty ideals had been relinquished long ago amid the sorrows of middle-earth.

But after many years of despair, there came a time when her hope was rekindled in the sons of Earendil, the Mariner. All her love was poured into the care of Elrond and Elros. As Maglor did, she also had grown to love them as though they were her sons and she had delighted in teaching them many things. In all the years since her arrival in Middle-earth, those years in which she nurtured the boys had been her happiest.

At last when the sons of Feanor had all perished, she removed to dwell in the house of Gil-galad, FingonÂ’s son. There in private she had mourned the loss of Maglor whom, it was said, wandered the shores of Middle-earth in torment singing of his pain and regret. In her memory she preserved his melodious voice for he had been second mightiest among the singers of old. And through the years she forgot him not but carried the wound of his passing in the depths of her weary soul.

In Gil-galadÂ’s home, the boys grew steadily in the custom of the Eldar. When the time was appropriate, they were informed of their right to choose among which kindred they should be judged. It had grieved her greatly when Elros chose to be counted among men for loath was she to witness the sundering of the brothers who, from the early disruption in their lives, shared a strong attachment. After hundreds of years of the sun had passed, word came to them that Elros, the High King of Numenor, had succumbed to the doom of man. Her lament for him had been great and the pain of finality she still bore through the ages. But in the care of his descendents, she also had a part. Elendil she had known and loved for his wisdom and probity. In the essence of his virtues, she was reminded of Elros. However, it was only with the passing of Isildur did she begin to care for the descendents of Elros. From Valandil to Aragorn Elessar, she had shared significantly in influencing their thoughts in their formative years.

Aragorn had been her last charge and one whom she loved immensely. When Gilraen had brought him to Imladris after her husband Arathorn was slain, in her sorrow she had committed his care into her hands for a time. At the tender age of two, his precocious curiosity had kept her attentions engrossed. When he was a young boy, she had taught him many things about Valinor including the elvish language, Quenya.

With Gilraen, she had formed a wholesome friendship. At the end, though Gilraen had aged by care, it was difficult for her to witness the weariness that had grown in her steps. She had known then that the time of her friendÂ’s passing was drawing near. Before Gilraen had left to return to her people, she had re-assured her that she would continue to watch over her son. To that promise, Gilraen had wittily told her she would hold her. The two friends had parted then after an emotional and lengthy farewell. It was some time after that she learned of her friendÂ’s passing by word brought with Halbarad and Amandil. Afterwards, in the privacy of her chamber, she had wept dearly for the finality of the loss of her friend.

Bittersweet to her had been the announcement of Aragorn and ArwenÂ’s betrothal. Bitter for the sorrow she knew Elrond suffered and sweet because of her immeasurable love for both Aragorn and Arwen. The announcement had opened her eyes to unanswered questions she had formerly entertained. For, when as a young man Aragorn had departed Imladris, it was as if some strange thing had befallen Arwen. Her spirits were affected and through the years she had grown graver. In her concern she had questioned Arwen, who genuinely seemed unaware of the reason for her solemnity. Aragorn, she had known was smitten with Arwen. His admiration for her was apparent and she had deduced that in part, it had aided his decision to journey into the wild.

In later years when Elrond sent for Arwen, who was dwelling again for a time with her grandparents in the Golden Wood, she was able to ascertain for herself the change in ArwenÂ’s spirits. To her it seemed that her joy was tainted by her sorrow of forsaking her parents and all her kin. In this Aredhel could not provide any solace but to continue to demonstrate her love and support to her. Later when Aragorn returned to Imladris with the hobbits, she had noticed that he also was plagued by an increased sadness. But, as was his wont to do at times, he had yielded to her in private and apprised her of the burdens he then carried. In that hour the memory of the insurmountable task of crossing the Helcaraxe was upon her and she offered him support such that by the time he took leave of her his heart was considerably lightened. She truly believed in him as she did in Elendil, the Faithful, of whom she was invariably reminded in his presence.

After the fellowship departed, she had commiserated with Arwen who watched over Aragorn continuously in thought. Few people had known that in her hope Arwen had labored long in creating a tall and kingly standard for him. The time spent with Arwen aided her decision to remain in Middle-earth providing there was indeed a light beyond the growing shadow. She was weary of Middle-earth and the grief innumerable that she had endured, but that one last thing she would do in Celebrian and GilraenÂ’s honor and for her love of Arwen and Aragorn.

“So tell me, what have you done to occupy your time while we were gone?” Arwen asked interrupting her thoughts.

She smiled amusingly. “I forgot how challenging it is to mediate the quarrels between elves and men.” Arwen was all ears and Aredhel proceeded to enlighten her on the most significant occurrences that had transpired during her absence. Apparently the cook had refused to relinquish his Sindarin tongue in favor of Westron when delegating responsibilities to the Gondorian undercooks. Instantly frictions had evolved and Aredhel had to work quickly to appease both sides. As a solution, she had appointed the Gondorian undercooks to the cook that was second in command. He also was elvish but held no qualms about speaking the Westron tongue.

She had been disgusted by the head cookÂ’s arrogance but was quite familiar with his behavior since he also came from ElrondÂ’s household in Imladris. Unfortunately, the majority of the elves who served in the royal household were of like mind to him. Beyond the gates of the royal residence they saw the necessity of adopting the Common Speech but within the royal household the Sindarin tongue prevailed. However, the royal couple allowed it to be so since it was their belief that it was the elvesÂ’ way of maintaining the traditions of their former realms.

Arwen was amused. “He is difficult to manage but he is an excellent cook.” She arose from her seat. “It is the price we pay for our own pleasures.”

“Yes,” Aredhel rejoined, “and Estel thoroughly enjoys the food prepared by his hands.” She arose from her seat then bidding Arwen to accompany her on a tour of the house. During their absence she had ordered the refreshing of rooms that had remained closed through many years. Fortunately, the stewards had ensured that the house was properly maintained even though it had remained unoccupied. Most of the furniture was in excellent condition primarily due to proper storage. She had noted areas where she felt some improvement was necessary, but for the most part, the house was fine. She had ordered the waxing and polishing of the marble floors, the cleansings of the tall glass windows, and the placement of rugs in several areas. Thanks to the light colors of the interior of the house, the elegant lightings were considerably enhanced at night. For several hours, she showed Arwen all she had accomplished in the past month. Arwen was very pleased with the changes but there was still more work to be done. Some of the rooms she had not seen until then. She had to decide what purpose each would serve. That issue she pondered with the aide of Aredhel and Melian who had joined them earlier on. By the time they had decided upon a suitable use for a few of the rooms, it was dinnertime and still Aragorn had not yet arrived.