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Arwen stood on the balcony, relishing the feel of light wind on her face. Just barely in her line of sight sat Aragorn, perched on one of the elegantly carved benches in the garden below.
She couldn’t bring herself to move from her position, and so she stayed and watched. The barest hint of a brilliant smile appeared on her lips when she saw that Aragorn was absentmindedly fiddling with a pendant hung around his neck.
Her stomach fluttered and a light blush dusted her features as her hand went to the hollow of her neck where it used to hang, an unintentional mirroring of Aragorn’s motion.
So entranced was she in her musings that the nearly indiscernible footsteps padding to her side escaped her entirely.
“Does Elrond know yet?” came the soft voice, nearly a whisper.
Arwen started and swiveled her head around, wide-eyed; though when she caught sight of Legolas’ face she ducked her head, embarrassed to have been caught staring. At this, Legolas laughed, though it was quiet and somewhat subdued.
When she looked back up again, Arwen saw there was no going back. She and Aragorn had wished to keep things quiet between them for a time, until the appropriate moment had come. But clearly, Legolas had guessed what lay between them. And by his saddened face, she knew he had also realized the consequences.
An awkward silence stretched out, longer than strictly necessary. Arwen felt herself growing unsure of the situation and began to speak.
But before she could, Legolas cut her off.
“I am happy for you,” he said, a smile gracing his features.
“Truly?” Arwen hadn’t expected that. “You do not seek to remind me what would come of us?”
Legolas looked her in the eye and took her hands in his. “I know you would never forgive me if I condemned it. It is your choice, and nothing I can say would dissuade you from it. Your happiness, and his, is all that truly matters.”
And though there was an undercurrent of loss in his words, Arwen could sense the sincerity and truth behind them. She nodded, gratitude flooding through her. He understood. She’d been so worried that he would judge her and give a lecture on how no man was worth her immortal life.
Legolas’ finger rose to her face and brushed away a tear she hadn’t even noticed had escaped. “Do not cry, mellon-nin,” he said. “I am happy for the both of you, and I can see this was a match made by the Valar themselves.”
Arwen nodded again, feeling her gaze drawn to the figure seated below, oblivious to their conversation.
“You need not worry; I will keep your secret for as long as you need me to,” Legolas reassured her, already sensing the hesitant question.
Relief filled Arwen, a rush of gratitude at everything. She wanted to say so much; for his acceptance and understanding, his support when she’d worried he would shun her, the words of reassurance.
But she simply said, “thank you”. But it was clear to Legolas that she meant much more than that.
And so he only smiled and opened his arms. Arwen let out a breath and stepped into his comforting embrace, relieved to have told someone about her newly-made promise to the ranger below.