Sea-longing
Deep in the hearts of all elves lies the sea-longing, which it is perilous
to stir.
---Tolkien
***
Though I myself have never beheld it, my people are natural seafarers- great lovers of the sea, in all its glory and vastness. Perhaps it is the mystery of the unknown that draws all Elves to the Grey Havens in the West, where the ships set sail for the Undying Lands, never to return to Middle- earth. Perhaps it is our love of beauty that moves us to glide over the surface of the great shining jewel of the ocean, to taste the sea-salt on our lips and hear the gulls crying overhead as we watch the shore disappear.
For whatever reason, it is the fate of the Elves that, when our task is done, we should leave this Middle-earth and claim our natural birthright of immortality in the halls of Valinor. I have never given it much thought until today. Today, under the trees in the walled garden of Minas Tirith, I can hear the cries of seabirds overhead. If I stand and look to the West, squinting against the glare of a midday sun, I can almost glimpse the blue waves of the ocean sparkling as they catch the light. In my heart, I know that it is where I must go to fulfill a destiny that was laid before me, before my ancestors, thousands of years ago when the world was young.
Gimli has asked me not to speak of this. We have much yet to do, he says, too much to see of this land. I do not forget my promise to him to explore the jeweled caverns below the Hornburg, or to walk with him among the ancient trees of Fangorn. But, even more than the deep friendship I share with the dwarf, there is something else that bids me to stay. Something more difficult even than the sea-longing to ignore.
It is on this thing that my mind dwells when Aragorn comes to me in the garden. My ears pick up the sound of his feet long before he appears, yet I do not turn to look at him. He pads softly over the new-grown grass and comes to stand beside me, following my gaze toward the West wall and beyond.
"You feel the sea-longing, Legolas." It is not a question but a statement of fact. Indeed, rarely do we pose questions to each other now; there is no need. We know each other far too well for that.
"If I could be rid of it, my lord, I would." I turn to find him looking at me, his piercing gaze fixed on my face. The victory at the Pelennor was long in coming, and it has stolen much of his strength. But he is still the proud and gracious warrior I have come to know.
"Legolas, please. I am no one's lord, not yet." He takes a step toward me, his eyes never leaving mine. "Do you truly wish to see the sea?"
Ai! Estel, Estel, i el luitha 'uren.* "Yes. To look upon that which has captivated the eyes of my kindred, to feel the pull of the tides as they draw away from the shore, towards.towards the far West." my voice falters and I fight the urge to look away from him. I do not wish to see the pain in his eyes.
Finally he draws near enough to hold my hands in his. "Then.then you must go. When this war is over, when all the battles have been fought and the Dark Lord has either fallen or triumphed, you must take the last ship into the West and bear your love for me to the Undying Lands-"
"-where it will be evergreen," I finish for him, my eyes downcast. "Yes, I have heard it said before. No truer words have been spoken."
"So.so you will go?" he asks, barely able to look at me. There is a shipwreck in my breast, the waves of emotion beating violently against the hardened woodwork of my resolve. How can I choose between a destiny that has awaited me all my life, and the love of a man who is doomed to taste the bitterness of mortality in what may be but a few years to my Elven eyes? In the end, there is no choice. Only the recognition of truth.
"You have forgotten the rest of the prophecy, my lord," I say. "True, the love I carry with me will stay with me forever.but it will be never more than a memory. Must you really ask me that question?"
I see the light of joy come into his eyes as he realizes what I have said. He grasps my hands tightly, barely able to contain the mirth that threatens to drown us both. "You are sure of this?" he asks, afraid to hear my answer.
But I only smile and nod once before he draws me into an embrace. Standing here under the trees of Gondor, with the blazing sun on my face and the fading cries of the gulls as they leave the sky, I no longer feel the sea-longing; only the warmth of mortal skin and a silent, peaceful sea of calm. * Ah! My hope, you enchant my heart.
Deep in the hearts of all elves lies the sea-longing, which it is perilous
to stir.
---Tolkien
***
Though I myself have never beheld it, my people are natural seafarers- great lovers of the sea, in all its glory and vastness. Perhaps it is the mystery of the unknown that draws all Elves to the Grey Havens in the West, where the ships set sail for the Undying Lands, never to return to Middle- earth. Perhaps it is our love of beauty that moves us to glide over the surface of the great shining jewel of the ocean, to taste the sea-salt on our lips and hear the gulls crying overhead as we watch the shore disappear.
For whatever reason, it is the fate of the Elves that, when our task is done, we should leave this Middle-earth and claim our natural birthright of immortality in the halls of Valinor. I have never given it much thought until today. Today, under the trees in the walled garden of Minas Tirith, I can hear the cries of seabirds overhead. If I stand and look to the West, squinting against the glare of a midday sun, I can almost glimpse the blue waves of the ocean sparkling as they catch the light. In my heart, I know that it is where I must go to fulfill a destiny that was laid before me, before my ancestors, thousands of years ago when the world was young.
Gimli has asked me not to speak of this. We have much yet to do, he says, too much to see of this land. I do not forget my promise to him to explore the jeweled caverns below the Hornburg, or to walk with him among the ancient trees of Fangorn. But, even more than the deep friendship I share with the dwarf, there is something else that bids me to stay. Something more difficult even than the sea-longing to ignore.
It is on this thing that my mind dwells when Aragorn comes to me in the garden. My ears pick up the sound of his feet long before he appears, yet I do not turn to look at him. He pads softly over the new-grown grass and comes to stand beside me, following my gaze toward the West wall and beyond.
"You feel the sea-longing, Legolas." It is not a question but a statement of fact. Indeed, rarely do we pose questions to each other now; there is no need. We know each other far too well for that.
"If I could be rid of it, my lord, I would." I turn to find him looking at me, his piercing gaze fixed on my face. The victory at the Pelennor was long in coming, and it has stolen much of his strength. But he is still the proud and gracious warrior I have come to know.
"Legolas, please. I am no one's lord, not yet." He takes a step toward me, his eyes never leaving mine. "Do you truly wish to see the sea?"
Ai! Estel, Estel, i el luitha 'uren.* "Yes. To look upon that which has captivated the eyes of my kindred, to feel the pull of the tides as they draw away from the shore, towards.towards the far West." my voice falters and I fight the urge to look away from him. I do not wish to see the pain in his eyes.
Finally he draws near enough to hold my hands in his. "Then.then you must go. When this war is over, when all the battles have been fought and the Dark Lord has either fallen or triumphed, you must take the last ship into the West and bear your love for me to the Undying Lands-"
"-where it will be evergreen," I finish for him, my eyes downcast. "Yes, I have heard it said before. No truer words have been spoken."
"So.so you will go?" he asks, barely able to look at me. There is a shipwreck in my breast, the waves of emotion beating violently against the hardened woodwork of my resolve. How can I choose between a destiny that has awaited me all my life, and the love of a man who is doomed to taste the bitterness of mortality in what may be but a few years to my Elven eyes? In the end, there is no choice. Only the recognition of truth.
"You have forgotten the rest of the prophecy, my lord," I say. "True, the love I carry with me will stay with me forever.but it will be never more than a memory. Must you really ask me that question?"
I see the light of joy come into his eyes as he realizes what I have said. He grasps my hands tightly, barely able to contain the mirth that threatens to drown us both. "You are sure of this?" he asks, afraid to hear my answer.
But I only smile and nod once before he draws me into an embrace. Standing here under the trees of Gondor, with the blazing sun on my face and the fading cries of the gulls as they leave the sky, I no longer feel the sea-longing; only the warmth of mortal skin and a silent, peaceful sea of calm. * Ah! My hope, you enchant my heart.