The Road Goes Ever On...

Legolas Greenleaf was perched atop one of the great trees of Eryn Lasgalen, for he was mourning the death of Elessar, his friend, his brother, his liege...it was like losing a part of him for he was feeling an ache within him that could not be healed.

He knew, of course that his time had come, and the sea-longing had grown unbearable but he held it within him, he could not give in to it. He had a friend to be faithful to. But now that friend was gone and no such friendship could be reforged between him and anyone else, for this friendship was unique, Estel was unique.

But he still had the good Dwarf, he had been raving about the Lady Galadriel ever since Estel had died but in a way it was a good thing for Legolas too, for thinking about the Lady of the Light somehow eased his pain, doubtless she knew what turmoil was going on inside of him and maybe she had done it on purpose.

When he thought about the Lady Arwen his stomach gave another jolt, for she was like a sister to him and it caused him pain to think that she was wandering largely alone in Lothlorien where few elves still dwelt, he knew that Elladan and Elrohir were looking after her, and they would not leave until their sister had been laid to rest... the mere thought made him queasy, for no elf should suffer the fate of Luthien.

The thought of Gimli brought a smile to his lips, but he was still worried that maybe the Valar would not allow him entrance, but if the Dwarf didn't go, nor did he. Gimli was now at the base of the tree and waving frantically.

Legolas smiled and stretched leisurely, the time had come, he was leaving Middle Earth, leaving pain and grief and sorrow and strife, perhaps to see it never again until the Elven Lords reclaimed their places, after the end of the Age of Man

His steps were slow and painful, he was leaving the home that he had so loved. He had visited Gondor a few weeks back, of course to see with his own eyes the passing of King Elessar, he had said goodbye and Estel had died peacefully and had died of old age but...it did not seem right for him to stay dead, he decided.

But he could do nothing about it except run away from it, for he was an elf and he could not forget.

He wearily trudged to the sea shore and looked upon the ship that Thranduil had left him before he sailed away. It was indeed great, it would be easy to sail for the weather was fine and the few elves left to go with their prince were skilled at sailing he thought.

Gimli walked beside him as he boarded the ship, a few elves gave him wondering looks but none of them questioned him.

As the ship began to move, slowly but steadily, he looked towards the land of his birth and said softly "Goodbye Estel, Arwen, Elladan, Elrohir... Middle Earth," tears were streaming down his face as the elves sang a lament that he would remember forever.

It seemed to him that Middle Earth itself was mourning the passing of the last of the true elves. Whether or not this was true he did not know, but the First Born truly would miss Middle Earth.

"Namarie, Aragorn," he whispered softly.