1. Fairest in Arda
She lay on the grass before him, fairer than the moonlight on one of the great mellyrn of Lorien. Her hair was curled and black as ebony; her lips full and red as the rose; her eyes clear and bluer than the sea. She was clad in a rumpled sky-blue gown that lay spread out on the grass about her, her toes just peeking from under the edge. A crown of flowers lay askew on her fair head. As he saw her, at once he knew that he loved her.
She sighed contentedly as she watched the clouds drifting by, her lovely fingers reaching towards the sky as if she wanted to fly along with the birds. She seemed so happy that he just hated to disturb her.
He sighed. “Come, my darling one,” he whispered, lifting her into his arms, “it is time to return.”
She sighed and laid her head against his shoulder, sifting his long dark hair between her fingers. He patted her back gently...
...and she spit up all over his robe.
“Oh, Arwen,” he sighed. “Must you always...”
She just smiled innocently at him. “Ada,” she gurgled. Twas the only word she could say; for she was but a year old, as the humans counted it.
Lord Elrond just shook his head. It was impossible to be angry at his little Evenstar for long. “Come, my child,” he murmured as he cradled her tiny form in his arms, “Mother is waiting.” And with that, he lifted her back over his shoulder, and began making his graceful way back to the Last Homely House, singing his little daughter an Elven melody as they went.
She sighed contentedly as she watched the clouds drifting by, her lovely fingers reaching towards the sky as if she wanted to fly along with the birds. She seemed so happy that he just hated to disturb her.
He sighed. “Come, my darling one,” he whispered, lifting her into his arms, “it is time to return.”
She sighed and laid her head against his shoulder, sifting his long dark hair between her fingers. He patted her back gently...
...and she spit up all over his robe.
“Oh, Arwen,” he sighed. “Must you always...”
She just smiled innocently at him. “Ada,” she gurgled. Twas the only word she could say; for she was but a year old, as the humans counted it.
Lord Elrond just shook his head. It was impossible to be angry at his little Evenstar for long. “Come, my child,” he murmured as he cradled her tiny form in his arms, “Mother is waiting.” And with that, he lifted her back over his shoulder, and began making his graceful way back to the Last Homely House, singing his little daughter an Elven melody as they went.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.
