The Price of Pride

Chapter 60


I started toward the room where I would be staying before deciding that I did not want to be inside. Though the conversation with Aragorn had gone well, wearing the mask of friendship when I still longed for so much more had drained me. I needed to be under the trees, where their quiet whisperings would soothe my troubled soul. I had to get beyond this reaction. If what my father said about Elrond and Galadriel was right, I would have to stand at Aragorn’s side in this fight with the Shadow. Soon. And that meant not falling victim to the consequences of my unrequited love.

I wandered through the quiet forest, avoiding any place I expected to see others. For a time, I succeeded, and my thoughts grew calm and my heart steady again. When I finally felt up to facing the gathering at the Last Homely House, I started back. Voices caught my attention.

“Renech i lu i erui govannen?” It was Arwen’s voice that spoke. I spun around, looking for her in the woods. I found her standing on a bridge, in the Garden of Twilight, just on the edge of the forest. Aragorn stood with her, her hands enclosed in his. Once again, their beauty struck me. Her slender form balanced by his much more muscular one. Her pale skin countered by his sun-kissed face. Her smooth face contrasting with his beard. There on that bridge was everything I had ever wanted. And none of it was now within my reach.

I wanted to turn away, as I had wanted to turn away when they first met, but I could not tear my eyes from them then any more than I could the first time I watched them. She wanted to know if Aragorn remembered when they met. I did not know if he did, but the memory of that afternoon was etched into my mind forever.

“Nauthannem i ned ol reniannen,” he answered. A dream. He thought he had strayed into a dream. For me, it was straying into a nightmare.

Her hand went to his cheek, caressing gently, brushing back a lock of hair that had fallen across his forehead. “Gwenwin in enninath...” She was right about that. The years had been long, for them, I was sure, with having to be apart so often, and for me, having to learn to live without them.

“U-arnech in naeth i si celich.” I had thought I was imagining it, the cares I saw in his eyes and on his brow, but she had noticed it, too. He had not aged with the speed of most Men, having the blood of Numenor in his veins, but he seemed… tired to me.

“Renech i beth i pennen?” Did she really have to ask if he remembered what she said? I had talked to him. I could tell how much he loved her. Whether she knew it or not, he could probably tell her every word she had ever spoken to him. Certainly every word of any import.

His hand rose from between them, his fingers tracing across her skin to touch the Evenstar that hung in its customary place around her neck.

“You said you would bind yourself to me. Forsaking the ital tal life of your people,” he told her, switching to Westron. I knew she had to have made that promise. She had told me as much in Lórien. She wore his ring. But to hear him say it, to hear the amazement in his voice at the depth of her love, brought the reality of their binding home to me in a way that nothing before ever had. I was not just losing her for Aragorn’s lifetime. I was losing her forever. If she made that choice, she would not cross the sea to Valinor or pass into the Halls of Mandos, eventually to be reborn. Her soul would leave this realm for paths unknown to the Elves. She would be gone.

“And to that I hold. I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone.” No! My heart cried out in anguish at her words. What about the rest of us, I wanted to shout. What about the others who love you as well? But her thoughts were not on her family or her friends. She had one focus, and one focus only. Aragorn.

Her hand reached for his, enfolding it in a gentle grasp. When she released him, he turned his palm upward and stared, first at his hand, then at her. I could not see at first what she had given him. Then, the fading light caught the object in his hand, causing it to sparkle. The Evenstar. She had given him the symbol of her very life. Her next words confirmed it.

“I choose a mortal life.” There was such love in her voice that I wanted to cheer even as I wanted to cry. Elrond had promised such a love for her, one so encompassing that she would forsake everything else to see it through. Though I did not approve of Elrond using their love for his own ends, I could see why he believed that Aragorn would do for Arwen what he would not do for himself. How could anyone refuse anything when faced with such a selfless love?

I wondered if he realized the import of her gift.

“You cannot give me this!” he exclaimed, trying to return the pendant. She smiled at him gently, almost indulgently, her hand closing over his, enclosing the Evenstar in his grasp.

“It is mine to give to whom I will... like my heart.” She watched him with desire in her eyes, her head tilting to invite his kiss. I could see it even from where I was standing. He apparently saw it as well, for he turned his head to meet her lips, their clasped hands still between their bodies. It was a gentle kiss, the sealing of a promise renewed. Then, the kiss deepened. Before my eyes, it changed from a promise renewed to a promise of things to come. Their hands lowered, Aragorn’s arms coming around Arwen, drawing her against him, caressing her back with easy familiarity. She leaned into him with the same ease that spoke of years together. As I watched, unsure whether to interrupt or to slip away, a change came over them. It was barely noticeable at first, the glow that began to surround them, but it grew stronger as the kiss continued and deepened, as their habegabegan to roam each other’s bodies. Quickly, the soft glow had encompassed them, visible proof of the power of their love. Only Elves who were fully bonded to one another ever let off that kind of aura when with their mate.

I turned and fled, then, faced with indisputable truth. Whatever either of them had felt for me, once upon a time, they were bound now, in ways that went far deeper than any ceremony devised by Elves or Men. Their union was blessed by the Valar, and there was nothing I could do but accept it. Accept and grieve.