(Meanwhile many miles away in the mighty palace of Gondor…)
Arwen sat at the window gazing into the swiftly retreating night as the rays of the sun chased its shadow doggedly. The first rays lit her exquisitely beautiful face. Skin as white and smooth as fresh cream. Soft full lips the colour of roses, perfect in size and shape. A nose so suited that looked as if it had been sculpted onto her face. Eyes like rare and precious shining sapphires. Out there, somewhere, her beloved moved towards his destination, whatever that may be. He had been quiet and thoughtful ever since they had received the desperate plea for help from her father, six nights ago. He had risen when the servants -always the last to bed -had finally lay still and prepared for a short journey. But where he was going he would not tell her. Troubled thoughts trailed each other through her mind as though they were children, playing a game of follow-the-leader.
Where was her husband going? Why had he looked so grim? Would he allow her to help her father? Why did they haunt her father? Would he be able to vanquish them alone? Would Aragon help her father? She had no answers to these questions and her distress continued to grow. It was not fair that these answerless questions should dim her joy at finally being united with her love after so many years of doubt and separation. Still staring out the window, she watched the suns ritual rise into the sky, ever so slow. She heard the silent footsteps of another, footsteps no mortal heard and knew she was not alone. She was glad for the presence of the other however, glad for the warmth and light it brought with it. She did not turn as the footsteps drew nearer, merely waited for the other to speak. “Lady Arwen? What troubles you so?” the voice was as warm and smooth as honey. So like her own and yet so different, a voice she had heard many, many times before.
She made no answer, simply sat and let the voice sooth her. It came again. “Arwen? Is everything as it should be?” This time the voice had a thread of worry in the overall weave of it. Arwen sighed so softly you might have mistaken it for a whisper of air. “I do not know,” she answered truthfully for this was her dearest and most loyal friend. “I do not know,” she repeated turning as the sun drew higher into the sky, like a graceful queen stepping up onto her throne. In that early morning light she studied this familiar face, one she knew as well as her own. There was the smooth and elegant skin, the full curving line of the bottom lip, the less generous top, and the straight, small nose, not perfect though on this face it came so close. But it was the eyes that really made this face stunning those piercing eyes. A dark blue – all though on reflection – Arwen thought blue was such a weak word to describe the colour. Most unusual of all was the ring of creamy yellow, which circled both irises but did not touch them, for they seemed to glow.
Those beautiful eyes were now filled with worry for her. Touched by her friend’s concern Arwen smiled. “Ah Tahamahr, I have such a loyal friend in you. I am blessed that you would spend the last of your time in Middle Earth with me should I allow it.” As Tahamahr opened her mouth to protest, Arwen held up a hand to stop the words. “I need you to do something for me.” Tahamahr immediately nodded “I want you to go and see my father and help him in any way you can.” Tahamahr smiled, “Of course I will Arwen. I’ll just ask Aragon for…” Tahamahr trailed off as Arwen shook her head. “He must not know,” Arwen said firmly. Tahamahr shook her head in disbelief. “Come now Arwen you know Aragon is no fool. He will know where I have gone and why as soon as he realizes that I am missing.” Arwen rose from her seat. “No he is no fool and when he realizes, there will be nothing he can do. That is why you must hurry and leave before he returns.”
The statement unnerved Tahamahr. “But Arwen….why? Why the secrecy?” Arwen sighed and smiled sadly. “Because my beloved husband is uncertain. He has not entirely forgiven my father for trying to keep us apart.” Feeling very uncomfortable Tahamahr tried one last time. “I don’t feel right doing this Arwen. It feels deceitful.” Arwen gave a soft, sad sounding laugh and embraced her friend. “Please.” It was Tahamahr’s turn to sigh and she did so deeply as she gave in. This time Arwen’s smile was filled with gratitude. “Thank you,” she said from the bottom of her heart. Tahamahr simply nodded and turned to leave. Arwen’s voice stopped her as she made one last request. Tahamahr turned back and watched Arwen’s now serious face. “I would ask only one more thing of you.”