A Solitary Star by Grundy

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Chapter 1


She had known it would not be easy. Arwen Undomiel is no daughter of the Edain to believe in ‘happily ever after’. She has lived long enough to know that being Queen was far more than just smiling prettily and bearing heirs, even when it did not involve sundering yourself from your family forever. Her choice had not been made lightly.

Estel had evidently never thought much about what she would do after wedding. He had thought on what he would need to do as king – he had had time enough to think on it, even if he likely hadn’t always envisioned it coming on the heels of a destructive war that had left not just Minas Tirith and Osgiliath but also Lebannin and Pelargir ravaged.

Elessar Telcontar was rebuilding his realm brick by brick, farm by farm, and quay by quay, striving to make the Reunited Kingdom a reality rather than just a name. His people, Gondor and Arnor alike, already spoke hopefully of a prosperous peace such as they have not known in their lifetimes, or even their grandparents’ lifetimes.

But Estel had not thought on what the achievement of their shared dream might mean for his bride. In the third year of the new Age, Arwen found herself increasingly…lonely. It was an odd idea, to be lonely when she was surrounded by people so constantly. Yet, even in a room full of her ladies, she often felt as though she stood alone.

For all her wisdom, she had not known what it would mean to be the only one of her kind here. Nor had she thought to ask any of the ladies of Imladris if they would consider postponing their departure to the West to serve as her companions, for it had seemed advisable that such prestigious positions should be given to girls of Gondor and Arnor, to consolidate support for the new royal house.

Her brothers would visit, she knew, as often as they were able. Elladan and Elrohir had delayed sailing for her – a blessing for which she daily thanked the Valar and the One. Their presence, even at a distance, helped. And her grandfather would not sail before she departed the world, no matter what the Galadhrim might decide. But they could not spend all their time in Minas Tirith.

Grandfather had responsibilities in Lorien, all the heavier now without Grandmother to share them. Her brothers led the remaining folk of Imladris, and would see to it that the valley would still be in good order when they departed, to be left as an inheritance for her children. Her family write as often as there are messengers to carry their letters, but it is not the same as other times when they have lived apart. This time there is no expectation that she will eventually rejoin them.

Legolas spoke of bringing some of his father’s folk to help heal Ithilien, but she knew Wood-Elves would visit the White City but rarely. Any visits she might make to wherever they choose to establish themselves will be limited by mannish ideas of time and propriety, not elvish ones.

She glanced at the cradle. Her firstborn slept peacefully, untroubled by his mother’s thoughts. Eldarion would not understand this feeling of otherness. He would never know anything but mortality. 

For all the Edain she had known over the years, it had not prepared her to live among them – and only them – for all the years that remained to her. She had not realized that there would be so many subtle things that would mark her as different. She does her best to cover, but she sees the gaps between them, even if they don’t. (And sometimes they do. Occasionally the gap is so unexpected that her surprise shows.)

It was things like not knowing intimately the ways they marked births or deaths – for though Men had died at Imladris over the years, they had not had all their kin or community around them to observe their customs. (Even if they had, the customs of early to mid Third Age Arnor were not those of present-day Gondor.)

But more than that, it was not knowing the true meanings behind polite euphemisms. It was not having heard the same songs and tales as a child. (Her childhood was so remote to her new people, and even to Estel, that it was best not to raise the subject.) It was a completely different set of expectations of what a Queen was and did. It was the curious looks at her torso and subtle questions about why she is not yet with child again, when they are still several months away from celebrating Eldarion’s second name day. (Obviously she cannot wait the best part of a yen between children as her parents had, but she felt certain she would need several more years before begetting another child.)

It was also in the little things, like the dishes she misses but does not know the recipes for (she could cook, but she had not mastered every dish served in Imladris, for her talents did not lie in that direction). It was not having someone else who remembered her mother, or another elvish parent at hand to talk to about Eldarion. (She may be mortal now, but her body was still elvish, and her son is not entirely Edain in his growth and development.)

She does not doubt her choice, painful though it had been. She is certain of her love for Estel, and she will not let this feeling of not fitting in among his people come between them, not when they have so few years together. But she does sometimes wonder if he understands how difficult it is for her some days, when she looks around and sees grandparents playing with their grandchildren, or at holidays that had been celebrated in Imladris but were not in Minas Tirith.  

Occasionally, she wonders what it would have been like had she been the one able to demand that her beloved accompany her to live among her people, and had Estel go West with her as Tuor had with Idril. It helped, in her lonelier moments, to imagine their positions reversed, with him the fish out of water, even more so than he had been in his childhood in her father’s house. She liked to picture her great-grandfather commiserating with him about what it was like to be the only Man surrounded by Elves, and to be sundered from one’s own kindred.

And then she carries on, being the Queen the Reunited Kingdom needs, with all the grace and serenity her husband’s people expect from her.


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