Crossing Borders

A/N: This was originally written for the Teitho Fanfiction Contest: Crossing Borders. I must have forgotten to submit it though, but now it at least can have a place here. Anyway this is a tiny oneshot fic on my take of what happened at Cerin Amroth.

Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR.

"Courage is the power to let go of the familiar."

Aragorn still wasn't sure that he wasn't dreaming. It seemed like a dream, like a delusional fantasy or a trick of the mind after something devastating had happened. But as he shifted his head in the rustling tall grass, she was still there, still an image of unachievable and unearthly beauty.

Forcing himself to look away, he gazed upward at the starry night sky. The stars shimmered like flecks of metal tossed into a pool of shadow. The moon was astoundingly bright tonight, illuminating her eyes, casting a lovely shade of light upon her glistening, alabaster skin…

Aragorn forcibly tried to clear his mind. This wasn't supposed to be happening. He had promised himself and Elrond to stay away, yet a fiercely defiant part of him had always rebelled against this pledge. Now as Aragorn was drawn further and further into the alluring but unfamiliar future beckoning him forward, he realized that this disobedient part of him was his heart.

Years of solitude as a ranger and exposure to uncountable deaths had indeed hardened his heart and so his body was used to taking orders from his mind. Yet now he was lost in a whirlwind of confusion. Should he listen to his mind or his heart?

Aragorn's thoughts returned to Lord Elrond. If he knew that his daughter and his foster son were together in Lothlorien now, so in love, so lost within one another, would he be furious? The man's mouth twitched wryly. Elrond probably was fully aware of their love. Foresight was a helpful attribute to have.

But here he was, lying in the grassy meadow of Cerin Amroth under the night sky with Arwen Undomiel at his side. She was so beautiful to him, so unfathomable. He shifted slightly so he could rest his eyes on her once more. The elven lady was stretched easily on her back, her pale blue dress clinging to her body, portraying her female figure to a stunning degree. Her eyes were closed and her face was as peaceful as death although the unearthly light emitting from her skin, like a reflection of the moonlight itself seemed to rebuke the initial comparison. Silver circlets were wound through her dark, midnight hair which was ruffled softly by the cool summer breeze. Arwen Undomiel, a picture of perfection, a dream he had always considered unreachable. Yet here she was, lying beside him, and as her hand wove into his, he realized how unsure, how unstable he really was.

Being born into danger and spending years in the wilderness sharpening his sense to near constant paranoia. It had instilled a sense of caution that had saved his life many times and would probably never fade. Now he had no choice in the matter. He could not scout ahead, nor examine the terrain from different angles. He was plunging into the unfamiliar territory, crossing the border without slowing. Even if had wanted to stop, he couldn't.

He blinked. Arwen's sea blue eyes were on him now and he stared back into them, lost in their depth and wisdom. Slowly and tentatively he reached out and gently stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers, wishing that they weren't so rough against skin so soft and smooth. She trembled under his touch but continued to gaze unblinkingly into his eyes.

Slowly, her pale white hand reached up to his hand by her cheek and she guided it to her lips, softly pressing his fingers against them. And then she was on feet, such elven grace she possessed had made her look as though she were dancing as she easily pulled him to his feet as well. They stood silently for a few long moments, unshod in the softly waving grass and surrounded by Elanor flowers, dotting the ground like the stars dotted the sky.

For a moment, Aragorn looked past Arwen to the shadow of the East where Mordor laid in all of its darkness and despair. Arwen sensed what he was staring at and she turned her head to gaze at the shadow as well.

And Aragorn could not bear for her to cast beautiful eyes on such a horrid place and he slowly turned her to face the western horizon, where the sky always wore a shade of the softest twilight. It was the land of Rivendell and further beyond, the immortal land of Valinor.

"Aragorn?" The softness of her voice was like the wind brushing water. Before he could respond she continued. "I never knew what I was missing all of these years until I found you, meleth."

Aragorn pulled her body closer, feeling the warmth emancipating from her body soak into his. He wanted to stay like this forever. "Nor, I," He admitted. "But I have lived many years feeling lost, ever since the day I first laid eyes on you."

She smiled, a toying, sorrowful and beautiful smile, all at the same time. "I am sorry."

"No," Aragorn breathed, leaning in to inhale the sweetness of her hair, "Tis I who am sorry for trying to court you so early. I was young-"

"Hush," Arwen murmured and Aragorn pulled back to look at her, sensing something in her shining eyes. She took his hands and looked down at them, clasped perfectly in front of them. "I will cleave myself to you, Estel, Dunadain, and turn away from the twilight, forsaking the immortal life of my people. Yet there lies the land of my people and the long home of all my kin."

It took a moment for it to sink in. "No!" Aragorn whispered, shocked. "You cannot do this for me."

Arwen smiled coyly and stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his neck. She leaned forward and nipped his ear lightly before murmuring into it, "I am not doing this for you Estel, and I am doing it for us. It is my decision and I stand firm to it, until the day that we die."

"Arwen... I can't let you do this..."

"There is nothing that you can do to stop me, Aragorn. It is too late."

"Ai Arwen," Aragorn sighed in wonder and defeat and softly he began to sing the song of Tinuviel and she joined him, her lovely voice weaving over and under his in a beautiful harmony, actually making him sound decent.

As he sang, Aragorn tried to absorb this, tried to think as he felt himself being swallowed up by the bottomless pools in her eyes. He knew that he would have time to mull over what she had said later, but now, it just felt so good, so real. They finished the song and he gazed at her for a few long minutes, his eyes occasionally flicking to her lips.

And then Aragorn felt as though he could stand it no longer and lowered his head, his lips brushing softly against hers, asking her permission. She answered back and their lips met with equal passion, expressing the hopes and desires of their hearts, such feelings that could hardly be formed into words. And so that night for the first time and unsure of where he was going or what would happen next, Aragorn willingly crossed the border, never looking back.

The End