You were once my one companion . . .
you were all that mattered . . .
You were once a friend and father,
then my world was shattered …

The horse brayed sadly and the calming words of elvish slipped from her lips unconsciously. Her mourning cloak swirled gently in the wind as she watched the scene below. The last of the elves were leaving Middle Earth. She, the Evenstar of this world, was now all that remained. She watched the hobbits say goodbye to two of their own and felt their grief as hers. She and Asfaloth were concealed in the rolling hills, she had promised him she would not come. The boarding plank was rolled up as the silver sails unfurled. All but Gandalf and her father retreated below. She closed her eyes, holding back her tears – she has made her choice - she had made it long ago.

Wishing you were somehow here again . . .
wishing you were somehow near . . .
Sometimes it seemed if I just dreamed,
somehow you would be here . . .

She recalled the days of her childhood, more than a thousand years ago, and a dream ago. She remembers how he taught her to sing. That wasn't enough for her – just to be allowed to sing in the hallowed halls of the Halfelven. She insisted on being taught everything that her brothers were and she insisted on excelling. And so she did. She did it all to earn the rare look of pride in her father's eyes. It all payed off in the end, not just for her father's adoration but for the heart she won.

Wishing I could hear your voice again . . .
knowing that I never would . . .
Dreaming of you won't help me to do
all that you dreamed I could . . .

She remembers leaving for the Grey Havens all those years past, upon Asfaloth when the vision of her son had come to her. The son whom she was carrying, even now. She remembered flying back to Rivendell with all haste, and confronting her father. Her father, who wanted noting but the best for her. She understood his grief, but could deny where her heart lay – with the King of men. Lord Elrond would never see his line continued.

Wishing you were somehow here again . . .
knowing we must say goodbye . . .
Try to forgive, teach me to live . . .
give me the strength to try . . .

She returns to the present, as the ship begins to pull out of the harbour, and she is seized with a sudden madness – Asfaloth is as swift as the wind, he could yet bear her to the last bridge between her and her kin. But no, she no longer belongs to the elves; she has forsaken that path for the one she loves. Remembering this, her resolve strengthens and she tightens her grip on the reins. It is time to let go. She thinks to herself, though I may die in the years to come, my memory and the tale of my king and I shall live on in him. It is a sad day, when the father outlives his daughter. She cries out into the wind, no longer caring to respect the sanctity of those who grieve below: "Goodbye Ada" The strange mix of common tongue and elvish whistles in the wind.


No more memories, no more silent tears . . .
No more gazing across the wasted years . . .
Help me say goodbye.
Help me say goodbye!

The man looks up, gripping the rail of the ship: "Goodbye, Arwen Undomiel, my fairest daughter."