It's no longer fancy, because it was waaay too difficult to sort that all out. So, here's the next part, on here: The meeting: Aragorn paced the pathways. Long had he been walking, until his anger had finally abated. There had to be some mistake. He could not truly be a king. Elrond must have messed something up, somehow. Almost unconsciously, Aragorn began to sing, in a low voice, the song that had always seemed to comfort him, long ago. The leaves were long, the grass was green The hemlock-umbels tall and fair And in the glade a light was seen Of stars in shadow shimmering Tinúviel was dancing there To music of a pipe unseen And light of stars was in her hair And in her raiment glimmering There Beren came from mountains cold And lost he wandered under leaves And where the Elven-river rolled He walked alone and sorrowing He peered between the hemlock-leaves And saw in wonder flowers of gold Upon her mantle and her sleeves And her hair like shadow following. Suddenly, there appeared Luthien, the woman of the tale he had been singing. Amazed and awestruck, he called out to her by her Elvish name, “Tinuviel! Tinuviel!” She turned to look at him. She was the most beautiful personage he had ever seen. Her wavy black hair tumbled down her back, her pale skin was brightened by the light of the moon, and her raiment was of blue and silver light, far brighter than the stars. “Why do you call me by that name?” She said in a soft, musical voice. Aragorn ducked his head, embarrassed by her gaze. “I thought you were Tinuviel, my lady.” Her mouth twisted in displeasure. “I am not she, even though I am oft compared to her. I am Arwen Undomiel. Luthien Tinuviel is my ancestor.” Aragorn started. “You are Arwen, daughter of Elrond?” “Yes.” Now she gave a tinkling laugh. “How did you know that, human as you are?” “I have lived here nearly all my life.” Aragorn gave a quick smile. “Who might you be, that my father would take you in?” “I was known as Estel.” Aragorn began. “Hope. That is a good name.” Arwen said softly. “It was.” Aragorn didn’t know how to say it. “Was?” Arwen cocked her head. “My real name is Aragorn, son of Arathorn.” “King of Gondor and Arnor, Chief of the Dunedain.” Arwen finished. “I have heard of you.” Aragorn gave a quick, angry thrust of his head. Arwen was thousands of years older than he. They could never be together. “Namarie.” Aragorn finally said. “Lady Arwen.” “Namarie, Aragorn.” Arwen returned. Aragorn shook his head and walked off. He knew that she would never fall in love with someone like him. But he was in love. In love since the first sight.
This is all mostly accurate according to the books, obviously, with a few embellishments, but mostly I'm just writing what it would be like. You're awesome. :)
