A/N: The first portion and the last-both in italics-are not mine, but are from the appendices of Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien. And, quite obviously, the characters are also not mine.
'Lady Undómiel,' said Aragorn, 'the hour is indeed hard, yet it was made even in that day when we met under the white birches in the garden of Elrond where none now walk. And on the hill of Cerin Amroth when we forsook both the Shadow and the Twilight this doom we accepted. Take counsel with yourself, beloved, and ask whether you would indeed have me wait until I wither and fall from my high seat unmanned and witless. Nay, lady, I am the last of the Númenoreans and the latest King of the Elder Days; and to me has been given not only a span thrice that of Men of Middle-earth, but also the grace to go at my will, and give back the gift. Now, therefore, I will sleep.
'I speak no comfort to you, for there is no comfort for such pain within the circles of the world. The uttermost choice is before you: to repent and go to the Havens and bear away to the West the memory of our days together that shall there be evergreen but never more than memory; or else to abide the Doom of Men.'
'Nay, dear lord,' she said, 'that choice is long over. There is now no ship that would bear me hence, and I must indeed abide the Doom of Men, whether I will or I nill: the loss and the silence. But I say to you, King of the Númenoreans, not till now have I understood the tale of your people and their fall. As wicked fools I scorned them, but I pity them at last. For if this is indeed, as the Eldar say, the gift of the One to Men, it is bitter to receive.'
'So it seems,' he said. 'But let us not be overthrown at the final test, who of old renounced the Shadow and the Ring. In sorrow we must go, but not in despair. Behold! we are not bound for ever to the circles of the world, and beyond them is more than memory. Farewell!'
'Estel, Estel!' she cried, and with that even as he took her hand and kissed it, he fell into sleep. Then a great beauty was revealed in him, so that all who after came there looked on him in wonder; for they saw that the grace of his youth, and the valour of his manhood, and the wisdom and majesty of his age were blended together. And long there he lay, an image of the splendour of the Kings of Men in glory undimmed before the breaking of the world…
'My lady mother,' a voice spoke softly and a hand touched her shoulder. 'Please, you must come away from this place.'
Arwen disregarded her son, Eldarion. Her eyes never left the face of her beloved, and they never would, not while he slept.
'Mother,' her son repeated louder, 'you cannot remain here. I know you are grieving, but you must move on. Father would not want you to be this way.'
'Hush, my son, do you not know that your father is sleeping?' Arwen reprimanded Eldarion, her voice harsh from days of not speaking. She moved her hand and gently touched the peaceful face of Aragorn's body. It was cold, but then, Arwen reasoned, her fingers were cold from the frigid winter air.
'He is sleeping,' Arwen murmured dreamily. 'He needs his rest, after all. He has been so weary of late. I want to be here when he awakens.' She gazed at him lovingly through the black veil that covered her face and smiled to herself.
She heard her son turn and walk away, out of the House of the Kings, but she paid him no heed. Only Aragorn mattered now.
Arwen…A small gasp escaped from Arwen's lips. Was that Aragorn calling to her from the shadows? Was that his hand that brushed against her face, or merely a leaf blowing with the wind?
Arwen…'My lord, where are you?' she whispered. 'Estel, please, show yourself to me.' She scrutinized the courtyard, watching the shadows for any sign of Aragorn. To her eyes, he was flitting from corner to corner like a child playing a game, leaving only a glimpse of his shadow for Arwen's eyes to see. 'Tinúviel, Tinúviel!' she heard him cry, just as he had done the first time they had ever met in the woods of Rivendell.
Arwen giggled like a child. 'Estel, why do you play such games? Come out from wherever you're hiding. I never expected such a thing from you.'
She lifted her veil and turned round and round to look about the courtyard, but could see nothing but shadows. Leaves swirled around her in the wind. And suddenly, all grew quiet. Arwen felt something brush against her cheek and her lips. She closed her eyes as she felt Aragorn' familiar kiss.
His lips left hers, and she opened her eyes to see him standing before her, glorious in his youth as the day she first saw him.
'Arwen…' his voice whispered soothingly as he took her hand and kissed it. He then drew towards him and kissed her once more.
It was night when Arwen once again opened her eyes.
The full moon had risen and its harsh, cold beams glared down into the courtyard, illuminating the emptiness. Nothing was there except the dead leaves.
'Estel?' she whispered into the darkness. A shiver passed through her body.
Footsteps echoed off the flagstones; she whipped round to see that a tall figure had stopped in the doorway that entered into the courtyard, holding a lantern. The flame reflected off the face and she saw that it was Eldarion.
She rushed to him. 'Where is he? Where has he gone?'
'Who, Mother? Where has who gone?'
'Estel!' she cried, her voice rising hysterically. 'Where has Estel gone? He was right here, only moments ago, I saw him! Tell me where he has gone!'
Eldarion gripped Arwen by the arm and held her firmly. 'Mother,' he said, 'Father is gone. He is dead. You were only imagining seeing him.'
'No!' Arwen yelled, wrenching her arm from Eldarion's grasp. 'Estel is not dead, for I saw him! He was here, and you don't believe me. You think that I am mad!'
'Mother, I think no such thing,' Eldarion replied calmly. 'But I think you need to come back into the city. You have been here too long.'
'I will not leave, not until I find Estel,' she said stubbornly.
Eldarion sighed. 'Mother, please…come, look.' He gently took her arm and brought her to the platform on which Aragorn's body was laid. He brought Arwen to stand besides it and to look upon his father's face.
'There is Estel,' he said, 'but there is no life left in him. He is dead, Mother. Estel has gone.'
'No, no, he is just sleeping,' Arwen said frantically. 'He is just sleeping! He's not dead.'
Yet in Arwen's heart, she began to realize the truth. She glanced at Aragorn's face and noticed its deathly sick color. She touched his face and felt the cold of the body. His chest did not rise and fall with breath. With this, she placed her hand over her mouth and began to scream, her hand barely covering her cries. She screamed over and over, collapsed by his bed, and tears began to pour from her eyes.
Eldarion knelt beside his mother and embraced her while she wept against his shoulder.
For the last time, Arwen stepped into the courtyard of the House of the Kings. The night still lingered, but the dawn had begun to break through the sky with the early sun's rays.
There lied Aragorn's body, cold and stiff in its own state of peacefulness. Arwen stepped forward to the platform to look upon his face one last night. After a moment, she lifted her veil, leaned over, and kissed the cold lips.
I know you are here, Estel, even in death, she thought as she replaced her veil. They may tell me that you are dead, but only I know the truth. I will find you one day, I promise. I may have to travel to the ends of Middle-earth, but one day we shall be together again, forever.
She turned away.
Arwen…Arwen went forth from the House, and the light of her eyes was quenched, and it seemed to her people that she had become cold and grey as nightfall in winter that comes without a star. Then she said farewell to Eldarion, and to her daughters, and to all whom she had loved; and she went out from the city of Minas Tirith and passed away to the land of Lórien, and dwelt there alone under the fading trees until winter came.
A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this. Please leave a review on the way out.
--Lady Galadriel