Part Twenty-Four

"I see you watching, Arwen Undómiel."

The voice of Galadriel came into Arwen's mind as she clung to a branch that extended over the Mirror Glade, trying to peer into her grand-mother's sanctuary, where King Thranduil and Haldir stood enraptured by whatever visions came to them as they stared into the stone basin.

Arwen watched their faces, both displaying a panorama of emotions as they looked, no doubt, upon the future of Legolas Greenleaf. Would what they saw convince them to leave the young prince to her? Did she really, truly want to marry him, knowing he would never ever, love her? Would it be worth the freedom from her father that this would gain her, to be saddled with a resentful spouse who went to her through no choice of his own?

Arwen was no longer sure.

And yet, when she thought of Arathorn, the Ranger from the North whom she admired so deeply, determination flooded her. So they had never spoken. So what? Arwen felt a pull when she had seen him across the dining hall of Rivendell Palace that was unlike anything she had ever felt before. Something in her heart told her that no elf would ever satisfy her the way that this Ranger could.

When Galadriel's voice came to her, Arwen felt her cheeks and ears seem to catch fire with the fury of her blush. She should have known that she could never hide from her grand-mother, but this concerned her as much as any of them. Still, she whispered her apologies.

"I know why you have taken this course," Galadriel replied gently. Arwen could see her grand-mother standing below, but her serene face did not change, nor did her lips move even though Arwen could hear her voice so plainly. Thranduil and Haldir had no idea what was happening between the two female elves.

"Arathorn—"

"Arathorn may indeed have something to offer you, but the time for that is many years ahead. With Legolas, you may have security now."

"Yes," Arwen agreed automatically.

"Is this a deception, Arwen?"

"I do not know what you mean, Grand-mother," Arwen whispered, frightened. She knew in that instant that Galadriel had seen all of her wishes, her hopes, her plans.

"Do you want Legolas for selfish reasons? Do you bear him any affection at all?"

"He is not unpleasant." But Arwen's eyes strayed to Haldir, the only elf she had ever truly fancied. Perhaps she had known all along that she would never have him.

"You should have sought Haldir out before he gave his heart to another," Galadriel said sadly. "He is filled with loyalty, but that will never be turned away from Legolas Greenleaf. Not now."

"I have watched him for many years!"

"Watching is not the same as taking action."

If Arwen had not been clinging to a tree limb, she would have stamped her foot in frustration. As it was, she jerked her foot and felt the branch tremble. She had tried many times to get Haldir's attention and always failed. To be told now that she should have tried harder was nearly insufferable.

"Perhaps it was not meant to be," Galadriel said calmly into her mind.

"Well, what is meant to be?"

"You shall marry a king."

"I have been told this many times," Arwen sighed. "As has my father. He will permit me no other. And yet, what king is there? Thranduil is the only Elvenking I am not related to!"

"And so this makes Legolas the logical conclusion. Arwen, you know my love for you is boundless. So many times have I consulted the mirror on your behalf that sometimes I fear I have blinded myself to what it truly is trying to say. After all, not even I can truly know what will happen to an of us."

"Perhaps I should look," Arwen said stubbornly.

"Not now."

"Why not now? You are letting Thranduil and Haldir see!"

Arwen inched further down the branch, hearing her dress tear slightly as she shimmied forward. The branch trembled once more and she thought she heard it creak in protest. She had chosen on that was far too small. Most elves would have been unable to balance upon it, but Arwen was light and lithe. She could have tried a stronger one further up the tree, but this one afforded the best view of the mirror. A few more inches and she would be at the correct angle to see it.

"Arwen, come down from the tree," Galadriel said.

There was no reproach or demand to her tone. There never was. Galadriel was the calmest and kindest elf that Arwen had ever known, and she did not command Arwen lightly. And yet Arwen was far too desperate to see the future for herself. Thranduil and Haldir still stood rapt, and Arwen thought she saw a tear slide down Haldir's nose. Was he seeing something that would change his mind, that would make him refuse the bond he sought with Legolas?

Did it matter? Should she give up the prize that she nearly had within her grasp?

One more inch down the limb which was now swaying under her weight, and Arwen's gaze fell directly upon the mirror. She gasped as the visions it held were opened to her. She knew that what she saw would not be the same thing which Haldir or Thranduil beheld, for the vision came differently to each individual. Only Galadriel saw all. Only Galadriel knew what lay in each Elven heart.

And there he was! Arathorn, Ranger of the North, standing in her father's hall. He was bowing to her, and to Elrond, and… he brought forth a maid, a mortal woman, who held in her arms a child. Anger and jealousy surged through Arwen, even as she saw herself cooing over the baby. The image changed. She saw Elrond shouting at her, though she could not hear his words, saw herself sent from Imladris back to Lothlórien to the care of Galadriel. She saw Galadriel offering her comfort.

And then the vision changed. Many years in the future, and she saw herself being crowned a queen. Happiness sparkled in her face, but the land in which she stood was no Elven land! What kingdom was this? What husband was this? Did her fate not lie with her people?

But then Arwen remembered the fact that she often hid from herself, for sometimes it made her feel less. Her father was Peredhel, half-elf. She herself had mortal blood in her veins, as did her brothers. Someday they would have to choose whether to remain Elvenkind or to live a mortal life, to fade to die. The thought horrified Arwen. Nothing could make her choose such a fate!

Could it?

"Choose Legolas, and you will have a partner whose life is eternal, like your own," Galadriel said gently. "Choose not Legolas, and another path may lie before you."

"I understand," Arwen whispered. If she married a mortal, there would be love. The king whose face she could not see inspired the smile on her face in the mirror. "But what of Haldir?"

In the mirror she saw at once Haldir and Legolas standing arm in arm, joy radiating from both beautiful Elven faces. She saw Haldir draw the prince up against him. They shared a kiss which made Arwen breathless. She leaned further to see better, but the branch she was on could take no more.

The limb snapped and Arwen fell. Galadriel looked up in alarm and stepped forward, but she was not quick enough. Arwen missed Thranduil and Haldir, but caught her head on the edge of the stone basin, smashing it forcefully against the mirror.

After that, there was only darkness.