Chapter Three

Newra stood silently between Gandalf and Aragorn, facing King Thranduil. Their stay in Mirkwood had come to and end, and they sought to leave the kingdom that very day. She was sorrowful at parting, but she knew every wasted day brought more danger upon her sister.

“I do not say goodbye without some saddness,” said Thranduil, looking with a thin smile upon each person who stood before him. “I shall miss you all,” he continued. After bidding a personal farewell to both Aragorn and Gandalf he turned to Newra. “I shall miss you most, perhaps, my dear. Long ago you were like a child of my own, I shall be sad to let you go.”

“I shall miss you too, your highness,” she replied, blinking back a tear. He embraced her, then kissed her forehead.

Aragorn nodded at Thranduil. “Goodbye, sire.” Thranduil nodded back. “We go to the stables, then?” Aragorn asked. Thranduil nodded.

When they reached the stables Newra was surprised to see Legolas there, putting a bridle upon his horse. He smiled at them, nodding toward Shadowfax and Roheryn, who were in the neighboring stalls.

“Tolo, mellyn nin,” he said, mounting his horse. “We must be off.”

Newra looked with a curious smile at Legolas. “What does he mean, Aragorn?”

Aragorn smiled proudly at the young prince. “Legolas will be coming with us, it was agreed last night.”

Newra’s mouth upturned slightly. She had missed Legolas over the years, and was glad to have him as a companaion. Her memory stirred briefly of times gone by, but she pressed it out of her mind quickly.

Aragorn turned to her, mounting Roheryn. “My horse is sturdy enough to ride me, but two elves make for less of a burden than an elf and a man. Ride with Legolas, Newra, for it would only hinder the company if another horse was brought.”

She nodded, without a word, and climbed up behind Legolas on his horse. She was slightly trembling as she scooted close to him and placed her hands on his shoulders. The feel of his body close to hers was exhilerating, but terrifying. She remembered what Galadriel had told her the last time Legolas had visited them. It gave her goosebumps. Her hands brushed his long black hair, sending shivers up through her fingers.

She had never felt this way before.

***

It had been two days since they departed from the realm of Legolas’s home, and they were deep in the thick of the woods. They were close to the edge of the woods, but still had about a day to go before they left the trees behind them.

They had stopped for the night, Aragorn had started a fire, and Gandalf was sitting beside it smoking his long pipe.

“Come, my boy,” said the old man. “Come rest. You are in need of it, you look weary.” Aragorn nodded and sat beside his friend, taking out his pipe. He watched the smoke from their pipes curl up into the air, floating about the trees. He looked around and saw the horses already asleep. He could see Legolas sitting with his back against a tree, eyes open and staring off into the starry sky. He didn’t see Newra.

Gandalf looked at Aragorn. “What is Legolas doing, I don’t hear him.”

“He’s asleep,” replied Aragorn, exhaling smoke slowly from his nostrils and mouth. “It’s late, I should be sleeping too.” After a few minutes he put away his pipe, then lay down on the ground wrapped around his cloak.

He closed his eyes tight, willing the pain to flee his heart and soul. But it was etched deeper than could be removed. He had lived his life aloof from those he loved, clinging to the hope that Middle-earth would someday be as it should, and he could claim his place in the world. To be with the woman he loved. But perhaps it was all a vain dream. He was the heir of a misled king, Arwen was the daughter of a race that was slowly fading. She had proclaimed her love to him, dooming herself forever. But what if it was all for nothing? What if something happened to her and he never saw her again?

He shuddered, closing his mind to the possibility. He instead remembered the times he had spent with Arwen. He remembered her touch and smell, the way her long black hair fell against her shoulders. The way her slender fingers would brush his cheek softly as she spoke soft words of love to him. He remembered the deep, pure tones of her voice. She was in every way his opposite, yet she loved him still.

Love, he thought, was the most amazing thing he had ever experienced. And nothing else had ever brought him as much pain.

***

Newra sat silently beside the small pool of water she had found, twisting her finger around a strand of her hair. Her breath was quick and short, her faced flushed. Her bare foot moved back and forth under the surface of the water. She wore a sleveless dress of thin bown cloth with a long leather cord that tied it together from the neckline to the hem. She had brought it from Mirkwood; an outfit she had used to wear as an underdress.

When she had seen Legolas upon arriving in Mirkwood a few days ago, a rush of emotions had surged within her. She had known Legolas for nearly her whole life, yet she had never felt like this around him.

When she was only fifteen, young in even human years, her grandparents had taken her to Mirkwood for a visit. She and the young prince had instantly become fast friends, spending every waking moment with each other. She had stayed the entire summer, getting to know Mirkwood and its occupants very well. When it was time for her to leave for home she had been devestated, not wanting to leave her newfound friend. The next summer she had gone to Mirkwood again. But the summer after that, Legolas had come to Lothlorien to visit with her. They had grown closer and closer with each passing day, always wanting to be together. They had laughed together, played together, wrote songs together, stayed out late in the tops of the trees to talk and sing until the sun rose.

Then one night, soon before Legolas was to go home, Galadriel had entered her bedroom.

“Newra, muin nin,” she had said, sitting upon her granddaughter’s bed. “Will you be sad to see Prince Greenleaf go?” she asked.

Newra had nodded sadly, placing her head in Galadriel’s lap. “Of course. He’s my very best friend.”

Galadriel looked at Newra, stroking her dark hair. “It that all?”

Newra looked up, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“Is he just a friend? Or is he more than just a friend.” She paused. “My dear girl, do you love him?” she softly asked.

Newra had been dumbstruck by her grandmother’s suggestion. She had thought that she had felt more than friendliness toward Legolas, but he had been nearly two hundred at the time, she never thought he would feel the same for her.

The next day she thought about what her grandmother had said as she played with Legolas. They had written a song about Nimrodel that day, the beautiful stream that ran through her home. Legolas had always been a wonderful poet, and their young voices blended together brought smiles to all that heard them. That day would be the last day she ever saw him.

The next morning her grandmother came to wake her up. “Ai, good morning meleth nin,” she said, sitting on her bed.

“Is Legolas awake yet?” Newra had asked.

Galadriel had looked sadly upon her fair granddaughter. It brought her pain to bear sad news to Newra. “He’s on his way back north,” she said, smoothing the girl’s hair.

Newra bolted up. “But he wasn’t supposed to leave until next week,” she said, biting her lip to keep a tear from falling down her face. “Why did he go? Why didn’t he say goodbye…?”

Galadriel sighed, pulling Newra into an embrace. How could she tell her granddaughter the truth? Celeborn, her husband, had sent the boy back because he loved Newra. He had already nearly lost his daughter, and would not see her for many, many years yet. His other granddaughter would be lost to him,would give her love and life to a mortal. The cause of his loss had been those he held dear to him loving someone who lived far away from him. Newra needed to find someone who lived in Lorien. And as long as she was under his care he would protect her and keep her under his wing.

Newra had not understood his purpose then, but over the years she had figured it out, mourning for her beloved grandfather who had lost so much. But then she had moved to Rivendell, and had been under the care of her father. And, for now, she was her own mistress.

Her elf ears picked up the quiet sound of footsteps approacing, her stomach fluttering within her. She looked up from the water directly into the face of Legolas.

He smiled softly at her, seeing the way the moon shone upon her face. “What are you doing, Newra? It’s late.” he said, walking slowly around the pond.

She exhaled slowly, her breath unsteady. “I just, was thinking,” she said, her heart racing as he drew closer to her.

“About what?” he asked.

She smiled up softly at him. “You…me…”

He nodded. “I have been too. Your whole life has gone by since last I saw you. I wish I could have been a part of it.”

“You have, Legolas, you know that. I missed you so dearly, I thought of you every day after you left.”

“You know I didn’t want to go,” he said quietly.

“Of course,” she whispered.

“Do you remember that song I wrote for you, Newra, on your sixteenth birthday?” he asked, smiling at her.

She moaned, laughing. “No, Legolas, don’t.”

Legolas frowned. “You didn’t like it?”

“Oh, of course I did!” she cried. “It was so beautiful…it’s just that….well, it always embarrassed me.”

“Why?”

She smiled shyly. “You portrayed me so…differently.”

Legolas stood up and leaned against a tree, shaking his head. “No, I portrayed you perfectly, if I do say so myself. You are mysterious, beautiful…and I never understood you…” he said, coming over to stand in front of her. “You had a very big, deep soul for as young as you were.” He pushed back her hair behind her ear, sending her breath cockeyed. He smiled, tipping up her chin to see her better. “But now…I haven’t seen you for so long, how can I possibly understand you.” She let out a shaky breath, closing her eyes. He put his arms around her in a gentle embrace. “What did it feel like to you to lose your best friend?” he whispered. She willed her breath to slow so she could speak.

“It was the worst thing that ever happened to me.” She paused. “What was it like for you?”

“In the days after I had to leave Lorien,” he started, in a low steady voice. “I was so sad I could hardly bear it. You were my favorite person to be with, Newra, you had no rival in my heart. In the long years that passed after that, I felt like you were slipping away from my memory, and that tore my heart to shreds. I used to vividly remember how you talked, laughed, sang, smiled, breathed. But after that, I started to forget some of those things.” He paused, but she knew he wasn’t done and kept silent. “There was a point where my father had arranged for me to get married, to produce another heir to the throne of Mirkwood. I said I couldn’t, and he asked me why. Then I realized it was because I was already in love……but I didn’t know it until that moment.”

He looked down at her, smiling softly. “Something special existed between us, you can’t deny it. I won’t let anyone else tell me otherwise. I felt it, so did you.” He paused for a few moments. “Gerich veleth nin, Erthenin,” he said softly, cupping her face. “You always have.”

She gulped, not daring to meet his eyes. She laughed softly to herself, knowing that now she had no reason to be nervous or afraid. He had just confessed to feeling exactly what she felt. But none of that seemed to make sense as she looked into his eys. Her pulse was racing and her heart was thumping wildly. He smiled and took her wrist, kissing it softly.

“Ai, a gerich veleth nin, ethir nin,” she said quietly, running the tips of her fingers down his jawline. He kissed the curve of her neck softly, and Newra felt a wave of silent joy sweep through her. He ran his hands through her hair, kissing her tenderly. She moved not, clinging to his shirt and soaking in his love from every part of his touch. He ran his hands across her shoulders, gently touching her neck, then running his hand down to finger her neckline.

“Bainwain u-brestol, meleth nin,” he murmered, smiling. She held the back of his neck and pressed her mouth against his. He wrapped his arms around her waist. Suddenly he swept her up in his arms, making her laugh. He laid her down on the soft grass beside the pond, staring fondly into her eyes. He laid down beside her, wrapping his arms around her slender body. She rubbed her hand against his arm, looking up into his eyes. He smiled at her, kissing her with all the love he had stored up inside for so long.

***

Legolas propped himslf up on his elbow, seeing the pale glow of the rising sun. The air was warm, but a cool breeze ruffled his hair as it swept by. He felt Newra shift slightly, but she still remained asleep. He looked down at her, watching her sleeping the deep slumber that elves rarely experience. Her hair fell about her arms and shoulders, and her feet were curled up under her dress. He placed his plam on her cheek softly and kissed her lips.

The silence seemed loud to him, all of a sudden, and he looked up to see Aragorn staring at him. Aragorn had been carrying a few sticks for firewood, but a few dropped from his arms as he looked at the young he-elf. “Legolas?” he said quietly.

Legolas bit his lip, smiling. “Good morning, mellon nin. I suppose you are ready to go soon…”

“What in Ea is going on here, Legolas?” he asked sternly, looking worridly at Newra’s sleeping face. “Did you-”

“No,” Legolas said quickly, the color mounting to his face. “Of course not. Nothing happened.” He looked down at his bare chest and knew that Aragorn probably wouldn’t belive him.

Newra stirred, sitting up slowly. She looked around, peacefully, and grabbed Legolas’s shirt from beside her. She gave it to him, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Here you are, meleth nin, you must have gotten hot last night,” she remarked, with unfeigned innocence.

“Newra, I…” said Aragorn, and she looked over to him with a slight jump.

“Oh, hir nin, I didn’t see you there,” she said, smiling happily at him. “Yes, I’ll be ready in a moment,” she added, standing and brushing off her dress. She ran toward the small campsite, leaving the two men alone.

Legolas smiled to himself, throwing his shirt over his shoulder. “Well, so far so good, mellon nin,” he said, walking in the direction Newra had gone.

Aragorn shook his head and chuckled. “That’s more than I want to know, Legolas.”

***

Aragorn urged Roheryn on, wanting desperately to reach the Gladden River before it was too dark to travel. Their horses sped on, led by Shadowfax, who always seemed to know the way.

They had been traveling south for more than a week. They had first exited Mirkwood, then followed the Anduin south for many days. Once they reached the Galdden Fields they had crossed the Great River, and now they sought to cross the Gladden River, which would bring them one step closer to their destination.

They slowed their horses, for the night had consumed the land and they could not see.

“Legolas,” Aragorn said, turning to face his elfin companion who shared a horse with Newra. “Can you see it, mellon nin?”

Legolas squinted into the darkness. “Of course, we are not ten miles away.”

“Shadowfax has keen eyes and ears,” said Gandalf. “He could lead us there. Unfortunatly I have not the skills to be the rider for such a journey.”

Legolas peered ahead once more. “I could lead us on, for I need hardly any light to see. Aragorn,” he said, turning to his friend. “If Newra held a torch while I rode Elfëa, then you could follow me until we reach Sir Ninglor,” he said, using the elvish name for the Gladden River.

Aragorn nodded. Almost immediatly, with some help from his wizard friend, Aragorn held a torch out for Legolas. Legolas handed it back to Newra with a smile and raced ahead on Elfëa, his white horse.

Aragorn smiled to himself as he followed the light. Newra and Legolas had become inseperable again, and this time for a different reason, he suspected, then their long childhood friendship. Newra paired with Legolas seemed logical in some ways. He was a prince, she a princess, they both had firey spirits and laughing personalities, and both seemed to love adventure. Still he sensed that not everything would turn out picture perfect between them…but little did he know, as his senses were none compared to those of elf kind. They knew what they were doing.

He envied them. They were two people who were very much in love, and they held fast to each other, always being with each other, though they had not spoken for over four hundred years. He rarely saw Arwen, and when he did it was usually for a very short time. Their childhood had been similar to Legolas and Newra’s. They grew up around each other, loved each other from the start. Aragorn sighed, remembering the last time he had spoken with Arwen. It had been on his leave taking from Rivendell almost a year ago, as he casually bid farewell to his love, thinking to see her soon. But fate had twisted everything wrong, it seemed. And now she might be lost to him.

He concentrated his attention on Roheryn, kicking his sides firmly to speed him up. He could tell they were almost there when he heard Legolas cry “I sir!”

He could hear the sounds of Sir Ninglor.

***

Aragorn sighed with relief as they gazed upon the river, which was not twenty feet from where they had stopped their horses. He chuckled as the already dismounted Legolas lifted Newra from the horse, gently set her down and kissed her. He heard Gandalf laugh too, from where Shadowfax stood near his horse.

“Mae govannen, Legolas, you’ve done good,” Aragorn said, hopping off Roheryn.

Legolas smiled, handing the torch to Aragorn. “T’was nothing, mellon nin. Daro, idh, a caro echad si, for our horses especially need to sleep.”

Aragorn nodded and took some food out of his bag to share with the rest. Newra and Legolas had none, but went off to sit by the river, leaving Gandalf and Aragorn to chat by the light of the torch.

“They are quite taken with each other, I suppose,” Aragorn said, as he uprooted grass from a spot on the ground. “I pity Glorfindel.”

Gandalf chuckled. “Glorfindel needs not a wife, my boy,” the old man said, watching Aragorn place the torch on the bare ground. “His purpose in life will come. He will be a great man, someday, if he keeps his head on straight.”

Aragorn stood and brushed the dirt from his hands, watching the elven sillhouettes by the water laugh and talk. “I suppose. But what about Legolas, has he not a purpose as well?”

Gandalf nodded slowly, chewing his bread. “Yes…but what it is I do not yet know. He will have his own part to play, but that is up to Iluvatar alone.”

***

Aragorn sat silently on the banks of the Gladden, his pipe in his mouth and blue smoke rising into the star filled sky. It was many hours before dawn, but he was feeling restless. He always did when he thought about Undomiel. He heard soft footsteps come up behind him, and saw Legolas sit beside him, folding his legs.

“Ele…” the elf whispered, looking up at the stars. Aragorn nodded, looking at the fair appearance of his companion. Legolas smiled, moonlight spilling over his face. “The light of Ithil, my friend…er i avanya…ar mettanna,” he whispered.

“Legolas,” he said, and the elf faced him. “Newra is going through so much right now. Her sister, and now this thing with you…”

“Erthenin is strong,” Legolas replied firmly.

“I know,” Aragorn said. “But I want you to be careful, don’t put you both in a situation that would hurt her, and don’t take advantage-”

“Mellon,” Legolas said softly, placing a hand on Aragorn’s shoulder. “I would not do anything to Newra that you would not do to Arwen.”

Aragorn smiled, taking his pipe in his hand. “I know, my friend.”

***

They had been riding southwest ever since they crossed the Gladden River, and they were almost upon the border of the elf haven Lothlorien. The trees surrounding Lorien were within view as they rode on, desperately trying to reach the western border of the woods. They had no idea what would greet them there, but they hoped beyond hope that they would find Arwen… alive.

***

Aragorn led the company onward as they sped toward Lorien. He could see the trees, smell the fresh scent of the enchanted woods, but he felt a noticable dusturbance. There was something evil ahead.

When they entered the woods they could hear the distant sound of shouting. Aragorn listened intently.

“Do you hear it, Aragorn,” Legolas whispered, his face ashen. “Edhil a yrch,” he said.

Aragorn nodded. “We are later than we think.”

Newra dismounted the horse, looking worridly into the woods, trying to see the fighting. “May Eru bless the Lorienlanders, for they must be fending off the orc hoard that no doubt has my sister. We shouldn’t waste any time, Aragorn. Leave the horses, the battle is not far off.”

Aragorn gave a nod of approval, and the two elves ran off. Aragorn mounted Shadowfax behind Gandalf. “Come now, best of horses,” he whispered. “Let’s see you outrun the elven folk.”

***

Aragorn was stunned when he rode Shadowfax into the clearing. He quickly dismounted the horse with Gandalf and the old man whispered something to it, sending it running off. Innumberable orcs were, seemingly, warding off elves, and not the other way around. Arrows flew from every tree, and ground fighter elves were doing their best to dismantle the army. Aragorn quickly ran around the battlefield, staying hidden behind the trees. He slipped past the elven gaurds and ran behind the front line of fighters. He suddenly spotted someone he knew.

“Haldir o Lorien,” he cried, spotting his friend. Haldir looked his way, attired in battle garb with a bow in his hand.

He nodded at Aragorn grimly. “What a turn of events. But, ai, perhaps you come just in time, Dunadan.”

“I wish to help defeat them,” he said. “But I know why they are here, I come from the north seeking them out.”

Haldir looked with a puzzled expression at Aragorn. “What do you mean?”

“They have taken prisoner the daughter of Elrond, Arwen, and we have come to reclaim her.”

“We?”

“Yes, myself and Mithrandir, Legolas son of the King of Mirkwood, and Newra.”

“Erthenin?” he asked, a glimmer of a smile gracing his face. “Yes, they are here already. All of you together can help. These foul creatures must not penetrate our city,” he said, pulling out an arrow and holding it loosely to his bowstring. “Come, Legolas and Newra are fighting already, Legolas in the trees and Newra on the ground,” he said. “Where is Mithrandir?”

“Right here,” Gandalf said, appearing behind them. “I’ll stay with you, Haldir, and see what I can do.”

“Haldir,” Aragorn said. “They shall not relinquish Arwen until we have defeated them all, then is our only hope of finding her, let’s go.”

He and Haldir made their way to the battlefield. Aragorn drew his sword and cried out loudly, the noise echoing throughout the woods. He slashed through every orc that drew close enough to reach, and he was skillfull with his blows. Haldir fought alongside him, standing back every once in a while to fire arrows at the oncoming orcs.

Within a few hours in seemed like nearly all the orcs lay dead on the ground, with tree perched elves picking off the remaining few. Aragorn looked around desperatly, the blood of orcs hot on his hands and face. He ran all around, searching. Finally, tired out, he leaned against a tree and closed his eyes.

Haldir approached him, and Aragorn saw the elves removing the dead bodies that covered the forest floor. “Tolo hí, mellon nin,” he said, taking his arm. He led him deeper into the woods, past Nimrodel, then, after a while, he took a blindfold and wrapped it around Aragorn’s eyes. “Forgive me, my friend, it is the law,” he said. Aragorn nodded, allowing himself to be led by Haldir.

They passed into a clearing atop a hill, where he was allowed to see again, and then it seemed a very short time until they reached the city of Caras Galadhon. It was partially emptied, because of the orc attack, and Haldir led him immediately up to the dwelling of the Lord and Lady of Light.

As they climbed up to enter the house, Aragorn looked at himself. He was stained with dirt and the blood of orcs. He was unworthy to come before the Lady Galadriel.

However, Haldir led him into the very room where the Lady waited alone. She stood and came to him, the light of Aman radiating from her face and hands, her silver white robe glistening. Aragorn bowed his head, bending down on one knee. She stooped and touched his chin with her soft hands, bringing his face up.

“My Lady,” he said, unable to take his eyes away from her fair face. “I’ve come…”

She stared into his eyes, and he saw that Newra inherited her bright blue eyes from her grandmother, who’s eyes seemed to glimmer with the light of Ithil. “I know,” she said softly, motioning for him to rise. “You will be shown to your resting place, for you must now forget your cares.”

“But My Lady,” he said, but she lifted her hand in protest, smiling. Her smile was pure and wise with knowlege of years. Yet no visible aging could detect in her fair face, except, perhaps, in the deep pools of her blue eyes.

“Go, you shall find what it is you seek.”

***

Aragorn sat by the clear pool and brought water to his face over and over again. He sat, below the city of trees, beside a fountain that was filled with sweet smelling flowers. The Lady of Lorien had even ordered for a tent be prepared for him, as he would sleep on the ground with his other companions. The mallorn trees dropped golden leaves of autumn upon the ground, and the bright sun filtered into the haven, creating an ethereal glow.

He looked down at his white clothing and clean hands, no longer stained by the blood of vengance. A deep sigh escaped his lips, and he covered his eyes with his hands. He was too late. Arwen was nowhere to be found, and the Lady would not have him leave to search for her. The one he held dearest was lost to him, and there was nothing else he could do.

***

Newra sat quietly on the green grass, looking up at the majesty of her first home. She and Aragorn and Legolas had just eaten with her grandparents, and were now sitting around a bright and blazing fire. Haldir was with them, a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye.

“Mellon nin, why do you look so weary?” he asked Aragorn. “The orcs are defeated, and you dwell safe within Laurelindorenan. What is not good?”

Aragorn looked fiercly into the fire, his elbows on his raised knees. “Has no one gone to look for the Lady Arwen?” he asked, biting his lip.

Haldir laughed. “No, why? What need is there?”

They heard a soft laugh coming from behind Aragorn. “Estel, you worry too much,” said a low voice, clear as a bell and sweet as honey. Aragorn’s eyes lit up and he stood, smiling.

“Arwen!” he cried, and they rushed into each other’s arms. He kissed her cheek and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Oh, Undomiel,” he whispered.

She softly kissed his brow, then looked at Newra. Newra stood and ran over to her sister. Arwen was taller than she, with darker, thicker hair. Her grey eyes were smiling and she gently took her little sister into her arms. “Ai, Erthenin, how I’ve missed you.”

Newra buried her face in her Arwen’s shoulder, then looked up to kiss her. Suddenly she gasped, stepping away from her older sister. “Arwen!” she cried, folding her arms.

“Man?” Arwen asked.

“You’re such a fool. I’ll bet you didn’t think twice about leaving us. Ada was worried sick!” she said.

Arwen laughed and tussled her hair. “Hush now, little one, it’s all done now. I’m so happy to see you all.”

Legolas came to stand beside Newra and bowed slightly to Arwen, with a smile. “And we’re happy to see you too, my lady.”

Later, after everyone else had gone to bed, Newra stood by herself on the grass, looking up into the stars. She was so happy. She was glad to see Haldir, and her grandmother and grandfather, and even happier to see Arwen. She was relieved to know that Arwen was safe, and she was happy for Aragorn too. She could tell that he was unhappy during the journey, but now he seemed content to be with Arwen.

“What are you thinking about?” asked Legolas, coming to stand beside her.

She smiled. “Aragorn, Arwen…” she said. He laughed, enclosing her in his embrace. She looked with a sweet smile into his face. “Aren’t you supposed to kiss me now, hir nin?” she asked softly, tilting her head to one side.

He laughed and grabbed her shoulders. “If that’s what you want…I live to serve.” She smiled, their dark hair mingling as he kissed her.

***

Aragorn laid upon his bed, hands folded on his chest. He gave a sigh of relief, knowing that the first part of his journey was completed. He still had to find Gollum with Gandalf, and Iluvatar only knew what he had to do next. Now he just wanted to rest.

A faint shadow passed into the tent, and saw his beautiful elf maiden come sit on the foot of his bed. “I’m glad you’re safe,” Arwen said.

He propped himself up on his elbows, looking at her with a laugh. “I’m glad you’re safe, my runaway lady,” he said. She smiled, fingering the neckline of her pure white dress. She knelt on the bed, bending over him, and he looked at her with a faint smile. Her lovely face glowed with joy as she smiled, bending lower to press her lips to his. He took her shoulders and rubbed his fingers against her soft skin, kissing her more firmly. He pressed her against him, not letting go of her. She was so precious to him.

He moved so he was above her. “My lady…” he murmered, cupping her face. He kissed her again, pushing her down so she lay with her back on the bed. He moved closer, their bodies brushing against each other. He flicked her hair back behind her, laying down beside her.

“I love you, Aragorn…” she whispered.

He rested his hand on her shoulder. “I love you too.”

He wanted to be with Arwen for as long as he could, for he knew that they could not dwell in fair Lorien forever. Soon enough they would return to Mirkwood with Legolas, and Aragorn’s search would begin anew. Soon enough…but now he lived only for the present.

(Sindarin)
Tolo, mellyn nin- come, my friends
Gerich veleth nin- you have my love
Erthenin- Newra’s second name, meaning Abiding One
Ai, a gerich veleth nin, ethir nin- ah, and you have my love, my prince
Bainwain u-brestol, meleth nin- most beautiful unchanging, my love
Ea- the world
I sir- the river
Mae govannen- well met
Daro, idh, a caro echad si- stop, rest, and make camp here
Iluvatar- the creator of Middle-earth (God)
Ele- what the elves said when they first saw the work of Varda, the sindarin translation of stars
(Quenya)
Er i avanya…ar mettanna- still the most beautiful…and to the end
(Sindarin)
Edhil a yrch- elves and orcs
Eru- another name for Iluvatar
Tolo hí, mellon nin- come here, my friend
Aman- “Blessed, free from evil’, the name of the land in the West, beyond the Great Sea, in which the Valar (the gods) dwelt after they had left the isle of Almaren. Often refered to as the Blessed Realm.
Ithil- the moon
Laurelindorenan- the old elvish name for Lothlorien
Man?- what?