The Bitter and the Sweet - by Linda Hoyland
Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm: for love is strong as death – Song of Solomon 8-6 – The Bible.
The characters are the property of the Tolkien Estate.
“Your heart is troubled, my child,” Galadriel stated as the two of them sat together sewing.
“It is nothing,” Arwen mumbled, stabbing her needle into the linen with considerable force.
“You forget that I can read your thoughts, granddaughter,” said Galadriel. She cut off the thread and secured it, then rose from her seat and went over to join Arwen on the couch. Arwen laid her head upon her grandmother’s shoulder. For a while they remained thus in silence. “It is the stranger visiting us, is it not?” Galadriel said at last. “You love Aragorn son of Arathorn.”
“Yes,” Arwen’s voice was little more than a whisper. “I would cleave to him, but by so doing I will break my father’s heart! And what of my mother? She departed for the Blessed Realm, believing our parting would only be for a time.”
“I know, my little star, I know,” said Galadriel, putting her arm around her granddaughter. “There is more to this matter, though, than your parents’ feelings, or mine for that matter. I see many things. I would not tell you of this if you did not have feelings for Aragorn.”
“What did you see?” Arwen lifted her head. Her eyes were wide with fear.
“The son of Arathorn is a great man, greater than any other Man of this age. Already he has achieved great victories on the field of battle. He is wise too; well versed in lore and a skilled healer. Yet, he could become greater by far and play a large part in defeating the Shadow. Aragorn is but one man, though, and a frail mortal can easily become weary and discouraged, and so lose heart. Were he inspired by your love, there is no limit what heights he might rise to, and what good he might do for all men! Our time here is nearly at an end, but should you become Aragorn’s Queen, our people would be remembered and our lore would not be lost as your children would see that they endured.”
“So you would not oppose our union?”
“I foresee that if you do not wed Aragorn you will remain a maiden until the ending of the world. It would grieve me sorely to lose you, but I would not see you unhappy until the end of time, as you have been these past years.”
“My heart was stirred when I first beheld Estel beneath the birches many years ago,” Arwen admitted. “I knew not why he made such an impression upon me, as he was scarcely more than a boy then.”
“Maybe it was the love you saw kindled in his eyes, a flame that has never wavered throughout the years,” said Galadriel,
“I do not know what I should do! To wed him would mean that I must accept the gift of Men and follow him I know not where! I am afraid, Grandmother, but I love him so!” Arwen clung desperately to Galadriel in a way she had not done since she was a little girl.
“Easy, child. You do not have to decide just yet. Aragorn needs time to rest and will stay with us for a while.”
“He is not ill?”
“Do not look so worried, little star. The healers assure me that he is a strong man who could father healthy children. He has simply pushed himself beyond the limits that even the strongest Man, or even Elf might endure. There is nothing wrong with him that rest and good food will not cure. Now why not suggest to him that you go for a walk? Fresh air is a great healer. Do not worry about the future, simply enjoy the spring sunshine today and show him more of the beauties of Lothlórien.”
“Thank you, Grandmother. I will think on your words.” Arwen embraced Galadriel, then went in search of Estel.
Galadriel managed to maintain her composure until her granddaughter was out of earshot. Then she wept bitterly. Was the fate that separated her from her daughter not cruel enough that now she must lose her granddaughter too; and not only for a time, but until Arda was remade? Sometimes she envied mortals; their lives were brief, but so too was their sorrow.
oOoOo
In the days that followed Arwen spent a good deal of time with Aragorn. They spoke little of love. Words were no longer needed now they knew what was in each other’s hearts. Instead, she encouraged him to tell of his travels. She learned of the esteem in which he held the Riders of the Mark and loved to hear him speak of their beautiful horses, beasts, which seemed as fine as any that the Elves might breed. Aragorn grieved for the horse he had lost, which further endeared him to Arwen. She loved horses and always treated them with tenderness and concern. Aragorn’s tone grew graver when he spoke of Gondor. It seemed that not only the battles he had fought there lay heavy on his spirits. He spoke warmly of Ecthelion, the kindly, but aging Steward. His son and heir, Denethor, though, was a different matter.
“He treated me as if I had stolen his father’s love!” Estel exclaimed bitterly one day. “Yet he was always so cold towards his sire, it was small wonder Ecthelion sought the companionship of his captains! Denethor has a fair and loving wife and a small son, but that did not suffice for him whenever his father sought my company or counsel.”
“Did no fair lady of Gondor catch you eye?” Arwen enquired with a hint of jealousy.
“Since I beheld you, Lady Arwen, all other women have seemed but reflections of the star I held in my heart and was ever true to both in body and soul!” Estel declared.
Arwen was touched. She had had many admirers throughout her long life, but once they left the refuge of Imladris, they soon forgot her and succumbed to the charms of more easily available ladies.
The days grew warmer and Arwen shed both shoes and stockings to enjoy the feel of the fresh turf beneath her feet, as was her wont in Lothlórien. “Come, Estel!” she chided. “Your feet must be most uncomfortable in those heavy boots.”
“I would not offend you by going improperly clad,” he replied.
Arwen laughed and waded into a small stream, which rippled through the woods. “Join me!” she cried.
Estel had no choice but to shed shoes and stockings and join her in the water. Rather to her surprise, despite his long travels, Estel’s feet were long and elegant. From that day forward they rarely wore their shoes when out of doors. As Estel grew stronger, he would run swiftly as a deer, and then wait for Arwen to catch up.
One day she stumbled and banged her hand against a tree. He caught it between both of his own. She felt the pain ebb away in waves of healing warmth. It seemed that Estel was not only a great warrior, traveller, and master of lore, but also a natural healer. She had felt such power before only in her father’s hands.
Time passed; days or weeks, they knew not, for it seemed as if they lived in some beautiful dream. Time seemed to have no meaning here.
The longest day dawned and Galadriel and her handmaids prepared a feast to celebrate the solstice and honour the Lady of the Sun and Elbereth, Lady Star Kindler, after which they would either watch the stars during the few hours of darkness or slumber beneath them.
As soon as the feast was ended, Galadriel and Celeborn danced alone together on the grass watched by the others, as they lightly swirled, as light and graceful as if they were flying. The Lord and Lady then sat down and the other Elves began to dance, all that is; except Aragorn and Arwen.
After a few minutes Arwen spoke. “Will you dance with me?”
“I fear, my lady, that I would prove a clumsy partner compared to such as these. When dances were held at Imladris, I seemed to have two left feet!”
“Come!” She held out her hand.
He followed her as she led him to a secluded glade. “Dance with me here, where there is none save ourselves,” she said. “Otherwise I shall not dance this night.”
“Would you not wish to dance with the other maidens?” he asked, still hesitant.
“I have done that for many a long year. Now I would be your partner,” she said.
Grasping both his hands, she started to dance with him. She was surprised at how well he moved. Granted, not as gracefully as an Elf, but for a Man, he was light footed and nimble. It seemed that he was enjoying himself; his initial reservations overcome.
They danced until twilight fell. The Elves could be heard in the distance singing the hymn to Elbereth. Aragorn and Arwen stood beneath the mallorns and joined in.
“Would you like to watch the stars from the summit of Cerin Amroth?” Arwen asked. “We often see shooting stars at this time of year.”
“I should like that very much.”
Arm in arm, they climbed the hill together. Arwen sat down on the soft grass as soon as they reached the summit. “I love this time of year,” she said. “The Darkness that threatens us seems to have less power when the days are long.”
Aragorn sat down beside her. “The summer solstice is a special time for my people too. Sometimes my path seems very dark, my lady.”
“Look up and see our ancestor Gil Eärendil! While he lights the way and Lady Elbereth watches over us, we are never in darkness nor alone!” Her hand reached for his and he grasped it. “Lie down and enjoy the beauty of this night.”
They said nothing more, but simply lay there hand in hand, watching the stars twinkle overhead. There was no sound. It was as if they were the only two awake that night upon Arda. As it grew chill, they nestled closer to each other. Arwen knew then, that this was how she desired to spend every night of her life, sleeping beside this man who had stolen her heart.
At last Aragorn fell asleep, snoring softly. Arwen was most amused and intrigued at this further evidence that he was no Elf!
At dawn, Galadriel came in search of her granddaughter and found her sleeping chastely beside Aragorn. Arwen immediately awoke at her grandmother’s approach. She scrambled to her feet and beckoned that they should walk a little way as not to disturb the sleeper.
“Have you no thought for propriety, little star?” Galadriel chided gently.
“We did nothing wrong,” Arwen replied. “We simply watched the stars. I have decided I want to marry him.”
“You will have to ask him, then,” Galadriel replied. “He will leave here soon now he is healed and rested.”
“Oh, Grandmother, how can I endure it!” Arwen started to weep. “I cannot bear to leave you or my father, but neither can I imagine forsaking Estel! It seems that my lot is that of Lúthien! How can I make this choice?”
Galadriel enfolded her granddaughter in a close embrace. “Little Star, maybe your doom was decided when the Ainur created their music at the very beginning. We know not the ways of the One. You will know great sorrow from your choice, but I also foresee great joy in your future too. Dry your eyes, little star, for your love will soon awaken.” With a final loving embrace, she turned and descended the hill.
Aragorn awoke and blinked in the bright sunlight. Then he saw Arwen beside him. “My lady,” he cried. “I am so sorry, I did not mean to fall asleep. Alas, I have risked your reputation!”
“My grandmother knows,” Arwen replied. “All is well. This is the first time I have spent a night alone with a man, and the last with any save you.”
“My lady?”
“I would be beside you always!”
“Nothing would my heart desire more, but how can I ask such a sacrifice of you?”
“If I cannot be with you, I shall die a maiden and childless. Much rather would I be your wife!”
Aragorn knelt at her feet. “Then, Arwen, vanimelda, I give you my heart, and ask for your hand in marriage.”
“I am yours, Estel, today and forever.” She raised him to his feet. He kissed her and they embraced. At that moment their souls united and they perceived clearly the depth of love in each other’s hearts, two hearts now as one.