By popular request. This is the final episode - it's short and (bitter)sweet and if you don't like it I'm sorry but that's just the way it has turned out.

Chapter 1

Elireth stood with a heart like marble as the doors closed for the final time on the resting place of the King Elessar. She had lived too long. As a blessing and a curse had her life been since she tasted the kiss of immortals in the power of Bond of Love. But last of the Elf-friends was she now indeed become, and long since without friends of her own kind to stand with her.

Eldarion stood with his arm about his mother, grave and kingly beneath the winged crown, resigned to what now awaited him. Arwen's time would come soon; this Elireth knew. When the Queen had returned from the Silent Street on the day of the King's passing, it seemed that the light of her eyes had at last been utterly quenched, as nightfall in winter that comes without a star. Elireth had served her faithfully; never again deserting her from the time Arwen returned from Dale, jubilant to find her handmaiden had remained true in the face of temptation. The years had been golden, filled with joy and peace. But the dying days were now come and Elireth was alone. Never again would the Queen be her confidante.

How she had trembled as the tiny beds of Merry and Pippin were laid beside those of the great King! To think that she should have outlived her hobbit friends who had been with her during the days of Shadow, when the fate of Gondor rested on a knife- edge and she herself had slipped into darkness for a time. Her legs had given way, even as they had done in those days, and the young maids beside her were forced to hold her up. Haleth and Hareth, their names were, named for heroines of old, for the days of the King Elessar had been days when legends were renewed and the marvellous was made commonplace. The days of Eldarion would not be so, though he was a fine man and most worthy of kingship. No, all was changed now, and the only one who had not changed, for whom and because of whom Elireth lived, would soon pass from among them also.

On the other side of the doors, in front of the great crowd, Legolas and Gimli stood, with their people behind them. They were holding hands and both wept openly. Gimli was old now according to his kind, frail and silver-haired, though proud as ever in his bearing and demeanour. Legolas looked to Elireth just as he ever had, from the very day she had gazed down from the city walls and looked her first upon the Fair Folk. She knew this would be the last time the Folk of the Wood or of the Mountain would be seen in the White City, for the days of the Fellowship were now ended, and with them the only life she had known since she forsook the work of the Healers. What would now come to pass, she could not imagine.

The royal family retired quickly after the close of the ceremony, and the courtiers and mourners dispersed soon after. There would be no room for intruders into their private grief. The coldness that had come over the Queen was all too evident and the time with her son and daughters all too precious in its brevity. Elireth retired to her own apartments, these rooms that had been her home for so long. She felt hollow and empty. Waves of mourning swept over her, yet she knew not what it was for which she truly mourned. Life, it seemed, was over.

A scarce-heard sound at the door caused her to turn her head as Legolas stepped onto the threshold. Instinctively, she flew to his arms, and each held the other in silence as many tears fell. Elireth would that she could hold on forever. She feared to look up. She feared the words that would now be spoken.

"The time has come, gwathel," said Legolas. "The sundering of the Fellowship is at last upon us and, alas, of our fellowship also. How long do you think your mistress will remain?"

"Not long," said Elireth, faintly.

"Then I must speak with her before she goes," Legolas replied, "and farewell the daughter of Elrond before the last ship sails."

"And where must I go?" asked Elireth, in a choking voice. "I am too old now to serve another mistress and grow weary of my days, blessed though they have been."

"Then may it be that you go swiftly to your fathers," said Legolas, solemnly, "To the Men of Númenor and the Elendili of old, none of whom would be too great to reverence you, Elireth, Elf-friend of the last days. Dear to me have been both your friendship and your love; their light will shine always in my home beyond the Western Sea."

Then Elireth buried her face again in Legolas' cloak and sobbed until she feared her heart would break. She could not bring herself to say farewell, either in the tongue of Men or Elves, and Legolas too was silent. But he kissed her forehead and departed.

Outside, in the courtyard of the palace, Gimli the Dwarf was waiting as his friend returned.

"Alas, alas for this evil day!" cried Legolas. "All who knew Aragorn son of Arathorn loved him as themselves. But he has gone to his rest at last. May he find peace in death. But Anduin flows away to the sea, and the sea calls us home at last. The grey ships shall sail from Ithilien, Gimli, but first I must take my leave of the Lady who no ship can now bear away."

"And what of the maid?" said Gimli. "What of Elireth?"

"I have farewelled her," said Legolas, casting his eyes to the ground.

"Does she not sail with us?" said Gimli, with some surprise.

"It is not her part to do so," Legolas replied.

"Your father thought not so," said Gimli. "And his good graces were passing hard to come by."

"Name not my father to me in this hour!" cried Legolas, the cold starlight of his eyes refracting through clear Elven tears. "Forgive me, Gimli," he said, as the tears traced their path on his fair cheeks. "Elireth's place is with her people." And he sighed as he walked away.

"And who might they be, after all these years?" muttered Gimli. But he kept his own counsel for a time.

namarie farewell

gwathel sister