"You have come." Her voice was calm, all bereft of that silvery tones so reminiscent of starlight. Arwen faced him, the beautiful face tearless. Her grief was too great for weeping. Her eyes were lightless, lifeless.
"I have come too late." Legolas replied slowly, struggling to keep his voice level.
Arwen nodded silently and together they looked towards the Houses of Kings, wherein lay the man they had both loved.
The city was not yet clad in mourning, and still upon the lower circles they heard the people of Minas Tirith, the laughter, the songs, the cadence of hooves. The sky had not yet taken too mourning, and still the fall sun, pale and clear among the blue sky shone upon them. Autumn roses blossomed to it.
But their hearts were numb, and slowly they left the houses of Death, and went to the courtyard. The fountain fell with the everlasting music of water upon water, and by it stood the heir of Nimloth, dark green leaves glossy, slender trunk of grey upright and beautiful. Arwen sat by the fountain's edge and looked up at Legolas. "Now he is gone, are we each to take our own separate paths? You to sail, and I to die?"
Legolas sat beside her and took her cold hands in his own. "Yes, mellon nin, we must part, we have been friends since childhood."
He felt the tears in his own eyes, the deep, unutterable grief in his heart that not even the Sea could wash wholly away. Arwen broke then, a slender birch who had weathered far too many storms, and she laid her head on his shoulder and wept. "Innasel athan sin richorn o fírimáre, Arwen."* he whispered, but his words sounded empty even to his own ears.
"Istanin achen nin eleitha." she whispered, and finally met his gaze. "Melinyel, Legolas. Namárië." *
He shook his head and clasped her hands the tighter. "Not yet, not yet." Legolas swallowed. "Where do you wish to die?"
"Lórien." she murmured, and lifted her ebony head.
"I will take you there."
The Elves stood together. Eldarion was now King of Gondor and Arnor, but no light shone in his mother's eyes. One by one, Arwen embraced her children and whispered one last word of love, then she tore herself away. Long were the ways, and bitter the days to the fading woods of Gold, and when they stepped over the Nimrodel Arwen dismounted, and turned to him. "No farther, Legolas. I will go alone."
He looked down at her and then around, at the arching pillars of mallorn trees, holding up this place of sadness and loss, of silence, of memory.
"Then this will be the final farewell." was all he could say.
Arwen smiled at him, a pale, wistful smile. "Namárië, mellon nin."* she said, and turned away, and was lost to the dying leaves.
*You will meet beyond the circles of mortality, Arwen.
*I know, but it brings me no comfort.
*I love you, Legolas. Farewell.
*Farewell, my friend.