| Subject: Around the Fire |
Author:
Arwen
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Date Posted: 18:35:56 04/26/02 Fri
Arwen tossed her head back and laughed. Her hair cascaded down her back, and for the first time in too long, she laughed.
It was just the three of them. Her, Arracus and Rhylin. Although she did not know Rhylin well, her and Arracus had known each other for years, even before the Wars of the Rings. He was like a brother for her, after Elrohir and Elladan had left for the un-dying lands. Aragorn did not know of the faeries. It had nothing to do with him. It was something purely, Elvish. That was how she felt. Elvish. Like the Arwen she had once known, the Arwen who had not been in forest for nearly two years. That had been her last visit. Two years ago.
They told stories, and sang. All jovial and happy. Not how she felt, but puting on a cheey face was easier than trying to explain to Arracus what was wrong. That afternoon she had told Arracus everything. The arrow, the child, the dreams, and the despair. Despair of gazing into the palantir, knowing what she saw she could not have. The images haunted her. "Arracus," she said through the flames of the small fire, "It has been a long day, I am still confused and weary. I shall see you in the morning." Rising from the fallen tree on which she sat, she returned to the room. But she did sleep. Consumed in front on the images in the palantir in front of her, she lay, until sleep finally overtook all of her tired limbs.
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