Dawnstar and Friend

Eleanor’s POV
After the joys of the marriage, which was heavily orchestrated, we spent some time running round the wilderness, after having helped take Arwen back to Lorien.
***
Over the next few decades we run around Middle Earth, mostly Eriador, Rivendell, Lorien, and occasionally, Mirkwood.
Somehow we manage to miss Legolas every time, like fate had an evil sense of humour and was waiting for a good time to have a really explosive reunion with the blonde prince.
In 2980 we decided to spend some time in Lorien with Arwen, Galadriel, and Celeborn, not to mention the terrible trio, sorry Haldir and his brothers.
Well, that is what we told people. Ginny and I once again were being time-tourists.
I think our lack of surprise at Aragorn’s arrival was noticed, though not commented on.
It was also not commented on that we, the enlightened ones, couldn’t help walking around with knowing, amused expressions on our faces.
Miriel was rather suspicious of the fact we gained a sudden interest in following Aragorn while making sure he didn’t know we were there.
One day we left our cats to molest the elves of Lorien and followed Aragorn, Miriel in tow.
Finally our time spent on stakeout as we called it, or stalking as Miriel called it, paid off.
Lover-boy bumped into Arwen, well sort of. They met.
We sat around in the trees nearby, getting gooey eyed at the romantic scene, occasionally interrupted by either Miriel or I doing silent imitations of throwing up. Ginny is definitely the romantic one.
We happily sat and put on aw expressions when they ‘plighted their troth’ as it would be put in Middle Earth speech. In other words, they got engaged.
You didn’t need to be enlightened to realise that Elrond would blow a gasket when he found out though.
When we got back to Lorien proper and were in the privacy of our talens, Miriel turned to us, narrowed her eyes, and spoke.
“You knew that was coming, didn’t you?” Ginny and I look at each other. We don’t need to say anything. We do bite our lips though. I knew she would catch us eventually; it was a matter of how long it took her to bring it up. “How?”
We carefully answer her so as to give as little possible away while still making sure she knows why we are being evasive. Eventually she is satisfied and lets us go. Few!
As predicted, Elrond was really pissy about the engagement.
Us girls rolled our eyes as we stood outside the door of his office and heard him declare that Arwen could not marry Aragorn until our lovely scruffy human had gained the thrones of Gondor and Arnor, that western bit that contains Eriador or something like that. Geography has never been my strong point.
We all agreed that my lovely nephew needed to take a chill pill, as if that demand would do what he wants i.e. stop the two of them marrying.
Ginny and I had the advantage of knowing that Aragorn would succeed. Miriel, I think guessed.
I am pretty sure that Galadriel knew that it would happen too, judging by her expression.
Why does that twinkle-in-the-eye-and-lopsided-smile look disturbing and dangerous on me but all knowing on her?
Don’t tell me it is age, I am technically older than her, I think, or at least very close!
Must be personality.
Damn.
As far as I can work out, both members of the couple were eternally glad that we showed only approval at their relationship, unlike many of the other elves around.
A little after this we rejoined the Dunedan, where Halbarad had now become our patrol leader and Aragorn’s second-in-command.
He does not seem too impressed, though it is clear that his reason for not liking it is more to do with the fact he thinks the royal line will die out as he is sure that Aragorn will never fulfil the conditions.
***
Over the next few years, we return to Rivendell often, both to visit the people there and to help them out in soothing down Elrond, who is still not happy.
Eventually I get bored of it.
One evening, when I am sure nobody is around to hear, I go to Elrond’s office, one of the few properly walled rooms in Rivendell.
Once I have closed the door and moved to the centre of the room, declining a seat, I start talking.
“Everything I say in this conversation remains totally secret and does not leave this room. Am I clear?” Elrond nods, clearly confused and surprised.
“Right, you getting stressed out over Aragorn and Arwen is bloody stupid and totally pointless.” He looks totally shocked at that statement, though that might be me swearing as well. He opens his mouth to respond. I don’t let him.
“In the year 3018, Aragorn will leave with eight others on a quest, at the end of this quest, which has the ultimate result of the destruction of Sauron, he will take up the role of King of Gondor and Arnor. In the summer of his success you will bring Arwen to him in Minas Tirith and wish them well in their marriage.” He is doing a fish impression, I think the inclusion of dates shocked him into the realisation that I knew this was going to happen.
“As I am sure you are clever enough to work out I have foreknowledge of this and no matter how much you sulk, be difficult or whatever, your daughter will be Aragorn’s wife and the next Queen of Gondor and Arnor.” He finally regains the capability of speech.
“I saw my brother give up his immortality, and watched him die and get old. I saw his descendants degenerate and fall and now my daughter wants to give up her immortality to marry one of his descendants and join a line that will inevitably fall again. You expect me to let this happen?” I glare at him, can he not get the point? Instead of getting loud and yelling at him like I so desperately want to, I go very quiet.
“Yes. As a matter of fact, I do. What has been preordained will happen no matter how much you like it. Be glad you have had thousands of years with her and she will be happy. Do you have any idea how many only get a few years with their children? Do you realise how many will not get to know that their family got a happy ending? Do you remember that my own father had to know that his own sister definitely did not get a happy ending?” He shakes his head. I think it is the first time he has heard me openly refer to Turgon of Gondolin as my father. He cannot let it rest though.
“But it is not fair! Why me? What have I done to anger the Valar so much as to lose so much of my family to fate?”
“You are not the only one to lose family you know. Is there anyone who doesn’t know someone who has died in the fight against this evil, either in this age or the ones past? How do you think the humans feel, they have to put up with it and get used to it. I am not doing this to be cruel, but to make everyone’s lives easier ultimately.” He looks at me, his face a mixture of confusion and pain.
“How can it?” He whispers.
“Because if you do not fight it, it will not hurt Arwen and Aragorn so much over the years and they will be able to be married without feeling guilty that they have hurt you. You will be able to enjoy their happiness without all this bitterness. I presume you don’t want to tear you family apart.”
He looks haunted then suddenly, a tear rolls down his face. I think he is grieving for something he has not yet lost yet knows that, in a way he has lost. I know he will not be able to just let it happen, but hopefully he will not tear his family apart by his opposition.
I can’t let him sit there and suffer, just as I couldn’t with Thanduil so I go and hug him.
After a while he seems to calm some.
“What would you do if I carried on as I am at the moment?” he asks, now wearing a wry smile.
“Remind you that I am still your great aunt and since you have no parents to remind you to act your age, grow up and stop complaining I would do it for my nephew.” He laughs. That is probably the first time I have actually vocally admitted my relationship to him without any shadow of a doubt and also acted the age the elves assign to me rather than the amount of time I have actually experienced.
This conversation is momentous for both of us, he because it is the point when, to some extent, Elrond accepts the relationship between Aragorn and Arwen, and I accept my status and who I am.
Doesn’t stop it feeling weird though, I fear I will never feel the age I am.
Ginny’s POV
In time, Ellie, Miriel, and I begin to feel the call of the wild again and I don’t just mean the call of a bunch of men from the north.
Things are beginning to warm up a bit in Middle Earth so we mostly stick to the safer areas in the north. It’s a shame; I could do with more purple cloth.
Mostly we are left to do as we please, although we do make sure we’re back in Rivendell in time for the birth of Ada and Naneth’s first child: a girl with Ada’s dark hair and complexion, but Naneth’s sea-blue eyes. They name her Vanlanthiriel, which means beautiful waterfall.
As much as I love my elfin family, I can’t help but wonder why on earth Ada and Naneth picked such a name for the child. It would seem Naneth has inherited her parents’ penchant for unusual and tongue-twisting names.
Families aside, however, Ellie and I keep an eye on the years and, in 2980, we (mysteriously) end in Lorien...
I’m on tenterhooks waiting for Aragorn to turn up; it’s been such a long time since our last dealings with romance and the story of him and Arwen is so sweet. I just want it to start proper.
When Aragorn does arrive, Ellie and I, with a very suspicious Miriel in tow, take to following him and Arwen where ever they go...
Come on! Get a move on...
I’m near to bursting point; I really can’t wait a minute longer...
It’s happened! They met and by heaven, it was the most romantic site I’ve ever seen.
Miriel, Ellie, and I sat around in the trees and watched the entire scene unfold. Ellie and Miriel did their best to distract me in the most juvenile and unoriginal way possible: pretending to throw up.
It didn’t work though, I just lay on my branch, watching dreamily as Aragorn and Arwen became betrothed.
As I watch, I think how lovely the whole scene is: Aragorn and Arwen there alone together (well, almost), the Midsummer sun dappling them as they clasp their hands together and plight their troth. I wonder if I’ll ever have a romantic moment in a wood or some such place as it does seem a perfectly beautiful setting.
***
Aragorn and Arwen have just moved off, giving us girls a chance to jump down from our watching post and sneak back to Lorien.
Miriel doesn’t look very happy and is unusually silent as we make our way back to our talens.
It would appear that Thanduil’s bad temper has been inherited by his daughter as she rounds on us, having forcefully shut, but not slammed, the door. Somehow the quieter and more controlled action seems far more deadly and threatening.
“You knew that was coming, didn’t you?”
An awkward silence ensues. Ellie and I look nervously at each other; Miriel folds her arms,
“How?”
With another look at Ellie, I begin,
“Well...”
We have managed to shake Miriel off, I’m not sure by how much, but for that we’ll have to wait until the next ‘event’.
***
To say that Elrond was slightly angry when he found about Arwen’s betrothal to Aragorn is a bit like saying Henry VIII was slightly miffed at being told he couldn’t divorce Catherine of Aragon.
We three couldn’t resist... listening in – well, wouldn’t you?
Ever the diplomat, Elrond doesn’t shout, he simply and forcefully states his objections and the only circumstances under which he will allow Aragorn to marry Arwen. Though, even to those who aren’t Empaths, it’s obvious that he’s seething.
I think that he thinks that Aragorn actually getting his act together and becoming king of Gondor and Arnor is highly unlikely, especially with the opposition he may face from the stewards and the like in Gondor.
On the other hand he could have realised he has lost, and is trying to get Aragorn to reclaim what is his to own. I know he has foresight and could know that Aragorn is destined to become King of both, but I don’t know.
At least it will eventually come out all right in the end. It’s this thought that keeps me from intervening at any point, although I do try using my powers to calm Elrond down and make him feel slightly happier at the prospect.
That has only limited effect, I have to admit.
***
Every time we return to Rivendell over the next few years, however, it’s plain to all that Elrond is still not happy.
To use more than a bit of understatement.
I think he is slightly displeased with us for being openly and totally supportive of the marriage too, especially Ellie, who he believes should be supporting his side as a senior member of the family.
One evening, I happen to walk into the corridor that Elrond’s office is situated in and see Ellie and Elrond coming out. They go separate ways, Ellie back in the direction of her quarters and Elrond to his. This means he has to pass me.
I can see that he has been crying and automatically use my powers to try to cheer him up.
When he is level with me, Elrond stops and looks deep into my eyes.
“I’d rather be left to feel what I want to feel. Please refrain from using your powers on me in the future.”
He doesn’t say anything else, but continues up corridor and out of sight...
Oops.
I didn’t realise he could tell when I was using my powers.
***
The next morning breakfast is tense with Ellie and Elrond not talking to each other, I think it might have something to do with that conversation last night.
So, later on, I ask Ellie what it was about.
She tells me that she let Elrond in on her foreknowledge, in a very limited way only related to the whole Aragorn/Arwen thing, and then had to tell him to grow up whatever.
She doesn’t seem all that forthcoming on the actual substance of the conversation, as if it has affected her too.
***
Over the next few days she is rather contemplative, like she now has something to think of too.
Eventually Miriel and I bug it out of her.
I have to admit that I cannot truly understand her position, feeling like she is less than a hundred yet being over ten thousand years old, not to mention having two families, one an ordinary British middle class one and the other an ancient elfin royal family which she doesn’t know or anything.
Still, I think her actually admitting her relationship to King Turgon and his family is good for her.
It then occurs to me I actually don’t know what it was that happened to his sister so I ask.
Miriel is actually the one that answers, she having been brought up with the tale while Ellie only knows the Tolkien version.
The story of ‘the dark elf’, as Miriel refers to him, is quite disturbing and I realise why it has taken Ellie so long to comprehend that this lot are her real family and this is her real family history.
Hell I would take ages to take in a family history like that.