A Dream A Dream

"Edra le men, men na guil edwen, haer o auth a nîr a naeth." Aragorn explained to her sadly. (You have a chance for another life, away from war, grief, despair.)

"Why are you saying this?" Arwen whispered.

"I am mortal. You are elfkind. It was a dream Arwen, nothing more."

"I don't believe you."

Aragorn held open his hand, revealing Arwen's Evenstar. "This belongs to you."

Arwen closed Aragorn's hand around the jewel. "It was a gift. Keep it."

Arwen felt her knees buckle but was determined to keep her feet firm on the ground and not let them leave it. She watched him walk away with her pendant still in his hand and felt the cold wind smack against her face.

She shook her head slowly trying to block out what had just happen. Everything he promised her, everything he said, was only a dream?

A hot burning sensation rose through her eyes and a large lump built up in her throat. She bit her rosy lip, with more pressure than she intended, and tasted a small trace of copper.

Arwen wrapped herself in her arms in attempt to sheild herself from the bitter cold. She walked away from the path Aragorn took and held her head down.

The fact that he offered back her pendant meant more of an insult than saying their love was not real. She sat herself down on a near bench when she felt her life being drained from her.

Arwen shuddered; his tone was more painful than a knife through her heart. She had nobody to turn to, except her father. Arwen began to feel the tears burn again but blinked them back fiercely; she refused to cry.

She knew better than to believe him. It was no dream; it was reality.