Epilogue

Gilraen sighed, watching her son's retreating figure as he headed back out into the world. His news had been surprising, to say the least.

Betrothed. To Arwen Undómiel of all people. Perhaps Gilraen should have gone along with her son to Lothlórien…Glorfindel had, of course, accompanied him; however, as he had known Tuor and Idril he saw their potential match differently than did most of the Eldar. Perhaps that explained Lady Galadriel's seeming approval of the match as well. She would have known Beren and Lúthien, after all.

Still, unsurprisingly, Elrond had been less than thrilled with the prospect that he would lose his daughter as he had his brother. The conditions he had set made certain his prediction that Aragorn would rise higher than any human king since Elendil or fade with the remnant of his people, for Aragorn could not marry Arwen until he was king of both Gondor and Arnor, and Gilraen did not see a reunited kingdom coming to pass easily. It left her with the feeling that one way or the other, she would not see her grandchildren.

At least she had managed to extract a promise that he would stay here in the North unless he was truly needed elsewhere, as there was sure to be a shadow now between Rivendell and the Dúnedain over Arwen's decision. Aragorn had protested that there wouldn't be, but Gilraen knew that there would, even if neither side wished it.

Elrond would not be able to forget that his daughter had chosen a fate that would sunder her from him at least as long as Arda lasted, nor that Aragorn was the reason behind that choice. She knew it because, while she had forgiven her mother for agreeing to–and perhaps rushing–her marriage to Arathorn, (and while she knew that she would have grieved over Arathorn's death whether they married or not), knowing her mother had been thinking of the bloodline more than her still had shadowed their relationship.

Still, she was glad to be back. She did not regret going and seeing the world, seeing Minas Tirith, where–if all went well–her son would one day be crowned king, but she knew she would not leave her own home like that again. If he found himself in such trouble again, it would be Arwen's love (and perhaps her brothers' swords) that would sustain him. She had saved her son, yes, but not for herself. Now, she was giving him to Arwen, and really, the last thing Aragorn had needed her for was gone.

But she had known since he was two that she would slowly but surely give him up completely. But she, and the others in his life, had raised him well; he had grown into a competent, compassionate man, one who would do well if he indeed became King of the West.

"I think you would have been proud of him, Arathorn," Gilraen whispered softly. "I am."

There was really only one thing left for her to do.

Dear Arwen,

I must admit I was surprised to hear Aragorn's news, but I am very happy for the both of you…