Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings belongs to Tolkien.

Summary: Aragorn and Arwen's youngest daughter wants to marry. But Aragorn does not react well…

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It wasn't the first time Aragorn had to say no to his youngest daughter. He could remember countless times. No puppy, no riding the war horses, no drinking competitions. But he hadn't expected this, at least not at her age.

"No," he told Liriel. "It's too soon. And he's not a suitable match for you."

Liriel broke into tears. "But I love him, Ada," she said quietly.

"He's a mere stable boy! And you're a princess! You're too young, besides," Aragorn said.

"I'm six and twenty years! I'm not a child anymore!"

"Enough. We'll discuss this later." Aragorn said angrily. He watched sternly as Liriel left the room, then sank into a chair, thankful for the peace.

It didn't last long. No more than thirty seconds later Arwen burst into the room.

"How could you?" she asked in disbelief. "Let her marry him."

"She's too young," Aragorn explained.

"No, you're just too stubborn to give her up." Arwen replied coldly.

"I won't hear of it. None of the older children are married yet."

"That doesn't matter!" Arwen cried desperately. When Aragorn didn't respond, she continued. "You do know who you're acting like, don't you?"

"Who?" Aragorn grumbled.

"My father."

Sweet Eru, is this what he had to go through? Aragorn wondered. "That was different. That was you, this is Liriel," he said, not realizing until the words were out how much trouble that statement could get him into.

"I mean that you are older than Liriel is," he said hurriedly as Arwen's eyes narrowed.

"That's no excuse! Elven years are different than those of mortals." Arwen hissed, turning on her heel and stomping to the door. "I hope you'll come to your senses, for you of all people should know how this boy feels," she called over her shoulder. "And by the way, you'll be sleeping in the hall tonight," she added as she slammed the door.

"I'm the King!" Aragorn shouted to the door. "You can't force me to sleep in the hall!" The only response was a rush of sinister laughter.

Curse that Elven witch, he thought darkly. I'm not acting like her father. He was just being ridiculous. Aragorn paced in front of the window. Liriel is a princess…she can't marry a stable boy. Over my dead body will they marry.

Aragorn's pacing stopped abruptly. "I do sound like Elrond," he whispered in dismay. I'm turning into an overprotective fool!

Images floated unbidden into his mind, images of him as a young man, madly in love with Arwen- no, she was that Elven witch at the moment, he reminded himself. Elrond had been the villain of his early years, because he had refused to accept the love that lay between Arwen and Aragorn.

I can't do that to the boy, Aragorn thought reluctantly.

"LIRIEL!" he shouted, then cursed violently. He folded his hands behind his back and fixed his face into a frown. Liriel entered, eyes cast downward, mouth set in a thin line.

"What did you say the boy's name is?" Aragorn asked.

"Termir," she replied softly.

"And he works in the stables?"

"Yes."

"I want to meet this boy. And if I like him, I may reconsider my decision about your marriage. But you can't warn him of my visit," Aragorn stated firmly.

Liriel grinned and embraced her father. "Oh, thank you! I won't warn him." She pulled away and arched an eyebrow. "But be nice. Please be nice."

Aragorn laughed. No way was he going to miss a chance to make a lasting impression on the poor lad.

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To be continued, I promise, just as soon as I figure out how…And if you like it.

Please review the first part of this story! I really, really appreciate it.

More as soon as possible!