One More Day In Paradise
Disclaimer: All the character contained in this piece are property of J.R.R. Tolkien. I am making no money from this work.
Summary: An AU story. What if Arwen had gone to Valinor? Would either she or Aragorn have lived happily ever after? The song Paradise by Vanessa Carlton was the inspiration for this fic and thus I have enclosed the lyrics at the top.
once upon a year gone by
she saw herself give in
every time she closed her eyes
she saw what could have been
well nothing hurts and nothing bleeds
when covers tucked in tight
finally when the bottom drops
how she forgets to fight... to fight
and it's one more day in paradise
one more day in paradise
as darkness quickly steals the light
that shined within her eyes
she slowly swallows all her fear
and soothes her mind with lies
well all she wants and all she needs
are reasons to survive
a day in which the sun will take
her artificial light... her light
and it's one more day in paradise
one more day in paradise
it's one more day in paradise
one last chance to feel alright... alright
don't pretend to hold it in just let it out
don't pretend to hold it in just push it out
don't you try to hold it in just let it out and
don't you try to hold it in you hold it in
and it's one more day in paradise
one more day in paradise
it's one more day in paradise
one last chance to feel alright... alright
once upon a year gone by
she saw herself give in
every time she closed her eyes
she saw what could have been
Paradise, by Vanessa Carlton
Her hand trickled through the water, a thin wake following her long white fingers. Rain plinked into the fountain's pool like tiny spears, each wavelet lapping into the other till the glassy surface of the water was a raging sea of conflicting swells, and her hand cutting through the water like a swan, oblivious to the falling rain save for the drops that speckled and dripped down her skin. 'Is it raining there?' Arwen wondered, 'Beyond the wide sea?' she lifted her face to silver gray sky, 'Is it raining on him?' She closed her eyes, for a moment imagining that every drop the touched her cheek had touched his, from across the sea, where she could not go. Would that it was his hand, warm and alive, that caressed her face and not the cold water that glimmered in her hair like stars and down her face like tears. It was water that joined them, and water that kept them apart until the end of days.
Too soon the rain stopped, for nothing that was not joyful could survive long in the Blessed Land. Wearily her head sunk down to her chest, her strength stolen by the force of memory, of what could have been.
'It would have been no life,' her mind supplied desperately, 'death would have dogged your ever step, stolen your every joy," yet as her mind tried to convince her otherwise, her heart knew. There was no death in Valinor save that which was brought in by those who harbored it in their soul. Death had followed her here.
"She is fading, soon she shall be no more and she shall pass from this world as Luthien before her," Glorfindel murmured from the hidden shade of a lilac tree.
"Do not say that!" said Elrond, the emotionless control of his voice momentarily cracked.
Glorfindel looked sadly at his friend, "You can no longer deny it, Peredhel, every breath takes her further from Elessar, further from her will to live," he turned away, "Convincing her to come here may have been the greatest mistake you have ever made."
"And what could I have done?" Elrond cried, "Left her there to die amongst mortals? How could I, as a father, have done that? How could I, as a husband, have told Celebrian that would never see her daughter again, not even in the Halls of Mandos for her daughter had passed even from the coils of the world?!"
"Was it you decision to make?"
Elrond was silent.
"She was resolved to stay with the one she loved and if not for your disapproval she would have done so. You forced her to choose between her family and her love and even more unjust, to decide whether she would live or die. You made her decision between her mortal kin and her elven for her, though you let Elladan and Elrohir decide for themselves, knowing in the end that they would choose immortality! And now look, look at what you have wrought! She will die all the same, a slow sickening of the soul that will leave her destitute inside Mandos' Hall rather than content with Aragorn, passing arm and arm with him to what lies beyond this world!"
"Hold you words, Glorfindel! Some of what you say is indeed true, but do not accuse me of her death! Call me a fool, even a coward but I am no murderer! I brought my daughter here so that she may live, so the soothing balm of Valinor would heal her wounds."
"But it did not."
"No," he whispered, unshed tears choking him, "it did not."
"Legolas, you have finally come!" exclaimed Elladan, clasping the hand of his old comrade-in-arms warmly. "And who is this? The dwarf! Truly this must be the first of his kind ever to set foot on the Blessed Land!"
"Aye, this is a blessed land," replied Gimli, his eyes shining despite the age apparent in the pure white his hair and beard had become, "We saw it from afar, like a great jewel glimmering in the sea. If I were to have died then and there I would have done so a happy man and brought the tale with me beyond this world, to entertain and enchant my sires."
"It seems that your company has wrought wonders, friend Legolas, never have I heard such poetry from any dwarf, unless it was to glorify their own wares, never to compliment something so wholly elvish," Elladan joked.
"Do not thank me but rather Galadriel, for it was she who put the love of such things into his soul. He has come to see her one last time," Legolas' voice was cheerful but hollow. Clearly the prospect of Gimli's death held great pain for him for Valinor did not make its residents immortal, Gimli would only live out the rest of his mortal life here and pass like all other mortals beyond when his time came.
"If there was such urgency to see my grandmother, then why did you wait? Surely you did not willingly run the risk of Gimli not making it here," Legolas felt sharply then the change that Gimli had wrought upon him. The easy banter of the elves was familiar but unwelcome for though Elladan did not know it, he was opening scars in Legolas that he would never understand. Save for Aragorn, Elladab had had few human ties and never had he fully experienced the pain of watching friends lost to age. For all his age and wisdom, he was ignorant to that loss.
"We waited until Aragorn's passing," Legolas said shortly.
Elladan went still and Legolas wondered if he misjudged the effect the news would have on him. Suddenly he remembered that Aragorn had been raised like a younger brother to the sons of Elrond.
"Dead?" Elladan whispered.
"He passed as did all the kings of lost Numenor, gracefully and with great dignity, before age could cripple him, but his life was a sad story. He married the White Lady of Rohan, Èowyn, but it was soon apparent that she loved another, his steward, Lord Faramir. He freed her of the marriage and blessed their union but there had been no child. In the end to secure an heir he was forced to marry one whom he did not fully love. Children were born, but they did not have the longevity of one with the true blood of Numenor. His eldest son was already old when he passed."
Elladan said nothing, simply stared off into the distance, his eyes filled with sorrow. "He knew not what he wrought," he finally murmured, "Only misery for them both. Ai, Elbereth! What shall we do? Shall we tell her? Dare we?" he cried.
"Tell who?" Legolas asked, alarmed.
"Undomiel. With every passing day she fades. She tells no one why she sorrows but we all know. The journey across the sea broke her spirit as every mile took her further and further away from Elessar,"
"I fear this news will be her death blow."
"He is dead," Arwen's shoulders shook as tears wracked her body like a leaf in a storm. "He is dead!" With an animal-like cry she threw herself onto the ground, pounding the earth in despair.
"Dead..." Elladan's words echoed in her mind.
"DEAD!" her scream tore the air, sending the birds in their trees into a frenzy. He had died alone, unloved and cold because she had abandoned him to cross the sea, so that she could live forever amongst her kin. Live forever while his bones dissolved to dust. "Dust," she moaned, curled up on the ground. She clawed at the ground then raised her hand and watched the dirt sift between her fingers like sand in an hourglass. "Dust..." she whispered.
Long she lay there as the sky wheeled overhead. The stars found no reflection in her eyes and the darkness was not lit by the glow of her fëa. She lay a broken vessel for a flame that had burnt low.
The morning rose and the sun lent color to her ashen face and sparkled in her tears.
"Tinuviel..." at first she did not stir.
"Tinuviel..." a breath shuddered through her body and awareness trickled back into her eyes.
"Aragorn?" she whispered, her voice cracked and worn.
"Tinuviel..."
"Nay, it is not so. Tinuviel is dead. I am Arwen and soon I shall be dead as well."
"Arwen, vanimelda..."
Her eyes opened and she saw, framed against the rising sun, the translucent figure of a man. "Aragorn?" tears sprang anew to her eyes yet the man's form did not waver.
"Yes, my love," he said and held out his hand, shining gold in the morning light. With tears of joy now flowing freely down her face she took it and stood, the sorrow and weariness that had weighted her down departed like a fading dream.
He smiled warmly and clasped her other hand, "I am leaving Arwen, will you come with me?"
"I would," she whispered, "But I cannot, I chose an immortal life and thus I am bound."
His smile did not waver and she unconsciously leaned towards it for it warmed her as the sun had not since she had left the Grey Havens. "The decision is before you now. Will you come?"
"Yes," suddenly a warm light engulfed her and Aragorn was before her as he had been when they first met in the gardens of Imladris. Looking back she saw her body lying forlorn upon the ground but she felt no sorrow. They would understand.
"Come, my love," he said and arm in arm they walked into the light.
They found her later that day, lying on a grassy knoll overlooking the sea. Her hair was spread around her like a fan, her eyes closed. She seemed to be only resting but her body was still and cold and no light shined from her body. With a low cry Elrond fell to his knees and cradled the body of his youngest child to his breast. Unashamedly he wept, his tears falling to mingle with her dry ones. No one spoke, for there were no words to be said. The grief of the Elf Lord was too great to be trivialized with condolences.
Still weeping Elrond bent and kissed her forehead, her skin cold and hard as marble beneath his lips. Laying her back down he placed her hands onto her chest and brushed the strand of raven-black hair from her face.
"She is gone, beyond the world and even the Valar know not where," He raised his face to the sky, his tears glimmering tracks down his face. "I pray that she has joined him, and I believe it is so for behold, she smiles even in death," His voice choked and it was a moment before he could speak again, "Farewell, my child, I pray that we shall meet again when the world is broken and then made anew. There we shall dwell in happiness, all of us, together, until the end of time."
A/N: Please review.
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