No part of LOTR is mine.
This is simply a narrative of Arwen's life after the death of Elessar. It comes from listening to 'Evenstar' on the ttt soundtrack, and thinking of the scenes of Arwen lamenting Aragorn.
There are a few obscure references, but I've checked them all, and will explain them at the end.
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She looked at the one that she had given her life for. He was cold, white as new fallen snow, and peaceful. She stared at his face as the people walked by, mourning their dead king. There he was, resplendent in his greatest coat, with Anduril, his sword, laid across her chest. She did not cry, she had already cried too much. It was impossible to cry more. For one hundred and twenty five years, they had been wed. So long, and yet, far too short a time. She had known this would come, had known of her coming heartache. But none-the-less, she had always denied it, always told herself, just one more day, and I'll be happy. Just one more day. How could she just wish for one more day? The day would wax and wane and she would be left, standing alone, her tears soaking the ground around her. Wishing, again, hopelessly, for one more day. Left again with empty hands and an aching heart. A day, what was a day? Before she had fallen in love with him, it had been nothing but raindrops in a thunderstorm, not to be counted, and only to be appreciated as a whole. The years, the decades, the centuries. These were the things that used to have meaning. Now, they had none, except to count the minutes, the hours, the days, the years, the decades, the centuries, that she wandered lost without him.
"I would rather spend one lifetime with you, then spend all the ages of men without."
Had she said that once? Yes, she had. When she had given him her heart, to have, to hold, to keep and nurture. How could he have left, so soon? Now she would wander, lost, not looking at her next step, not looking where she was going, not even caring if her heart should break, for perhaps that would free her from her pain. Perhaps. But how did she not know that the pain would continue, as it did now?
The people had gone, and as she looked around, she saw that it was night. Bleak, dark, cold, and cloudy. There was no one, no one that could ease the pain, no one that could even dull it. It was a sword, like his own. Sharp and keen it was, and dug into her breast with ever sharpening pain. But, also, it was the ring on her finger, weighing her hand down in its place, beside his, as it was meant to be. But it would never be again, not properly, with his hand clasped in hers. No, never again.
She had seen death, had comprehended it, known it, even wept for those who died. Peregrin the Thain*, and Merriodoc. She had seen their deaths, had seen Estel weep for them. She had wept with him for his pain, and had felt pain also, for she had known them. But then, then he had always been there to comfort her, to share her tears. Now, he was not. He could not hold her, and she could not hold him, he had passed away, like her heart, which she could already feel longing to take him in her arms again and hold him and beg him to wake up, though she knew it was childish, and could never have any avail. Nay, there was no one to comfort her but herself.
"Lady Undomiel?"
She turned, her black veil whipping in the night wind. There stood Elanor, daughter of Samwise, her maiden in waiting**. She had come to try to ease the pain of his passing. He had asked her to come, not a few weeks ago, and for his sake, she had come. Leaving her family to travel to Gondor once again, where she had stayed for a time, as Arwen's maiden. She loved Elanor, nearly as a sister, for they had shared many secrets when she had come. Elanor had told her all about the love that she had left in the shire, and then had sent a letter back that he had waited for her, and they were to be wed. Now the hobbit stood, a length away, looking worriedly at the queen mother of Gondor.
"Mistress Undomiel, please, come in, you'll catch your death out here!"
Arwen looked away, she loved Elanor, but even she could not help her.
"I have already caught it Romenloth.***"
Elanor blushed at her Elvin name, which Arwen had given her in the year that she was there with her father.
"I know my lady. But please. They are worried, your son."
Arwen looked again to her love. He still lay there, face frozen. She now saw that there were others around Elanor, waiting to bury him. She could not deny her people the wish to see him safely underground, into his tomb. But she wished for him to be in open air, lest he wake up again. She rose, painfully, slowly.
Elanor ran to catch her arm. Arwen looked carefully at her love's face one last time. The men gathered round, and his face was shrouded from her. A pain shot through her. Clutching her hand to her chest, she stared into the deepening dark, hoping for one last look before they laid him down beside his greatest knight, the Thain. But no, it did not come, she was not allowed her last glance. He was gone, and she suddenly felt the urge to run to his tomb and throw over the tile that was above him to look at him once more. Somehow, it had felt like, if she watched him long enough, he would come back to her, hold her one last time.
The stone clicked shut; the stone workers had done well, the top fit in perfectly. It was perfect, all of it, except…except…he was no longer there for her.
No. No…
Again the tears flowed as Arwen turned, letting Elanor lead her too her rooms. All through the halls, her people watched her as her tears, hid by her black veil, flowed freely, dropping onto her dress and flowing like a gentle stream to the floor as she walked.
"The light of the Evenstar does not wax and wane."
Ah but it did, she now knew, for even as she lived now, she could feel it's slow decline, and knew in her heart, that someday, it would fade. Fade into the earth, like rain is drunken in by parched soil. She could hear her people whisper, could hear her Romenloth thinking.
The light of the Evenstar has begun to wane from this world.
And indeed, she knew, it had.
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*-In the year 1434, Peregrin becomes the Thain, he is made one of the counselors of the north Kingdom, along with the Mayor and The Master. (Samwise and Merriodoc)
**- Elessar came to the Buckland Bridge and gave the Star of the Dunedain to Samwise, and Elanor the fair, Samwise's first born daughter, is made Arwen's maid of Honour.
***- Romenloth, Elvish, Sunrise Flower.