The Fourth Age.

The age of Men. When the last of the elves passed away into legend, never to be seen in Middle-Earth again. But they are not completely gone, remnants of a time long passed remain where the elves once made their home.

Rivendell. Or Imladris, for those well-versed in the elven language. But those are few, and far between. Once, the realm was occupied by Lord Elrond, renowned throughout the lands as one of the greatest in mind and ability, and a great many elves, some perhaps even greater than Rivendell's lord.

But now, it is occupied by empty song, stone that tells all who listen tales of the splendor of the elves who once lived there, trees who sing of the reverence their ancestors held for the elves. Perhaps the occasional wild creature, but even they hold a semblance of respect towards such a historical sight.

No longer is Rivendell protected by Vilya, ring of air. No longer does it provide peace and homeliness to its inhabitance, though a shred of it still remains. And no longer is it a place of living legend.

Lindon. Kingdom of Círdan the shipwright, former bearer of Narya, ring of fire. Now empty. No elves await a ship to bear them across the sea. Nothing passes into the West, and no elves build grey ships. But men may not venture near. Lindon once perhaps the most elven realm in Middle-Earth – very little mortals have reason to set foot in the Grey Havens.

Eryn Lasgalen, Mirkwood, Greenwood the Great. Perhaps the longest inhabited elven realm. Kingdom of Elvenking Thranduil and his father before him, and of the Silvan elves. Wood-elves. While the caverns of his palace still remain, the woods have changed. No more spiders of Ungoliant plague the forests. The darkness and sickness has lifted, and passage through the forest is no longer threatening and dreadful. But only the very brave (and perhaps stupid) leave the path in favor of searching for the elves. Perhaps a hope that they still remain?

Lothlòrien. Once the heart of all elven-dom in Middle-Earth, and home to the Lady of the Wood. If men feared the forest before, they certainly do not go near Lòrien. But if one was brave enough, they would see the talans that once housed elves, and the mallorn trees older than even those talans. Maybe it wouldn't shine with the light of the elves any longer, but a trace of any magic will remain. Any who walk under the boughs of the mallyrn would feel awed, striding in a place of legend. A place that had seen many thousands of years of history.

The magic of the elves still remains in these realms. After the War of the Ring, the light of living, breathing elves left Middle-Earth. A wandering child of men might one day end up under the boughs of the mallyrn, the roof of Rivendell, on the docks of Lindon, or the caverns of Eryn Lasgalen. Wondering, who created such beauty, who left the awe-inspiring and somehow peaceful aura of these buildings? And perhaps they would find the libraries, and read tales and legends they believed to be fiction, but were indeed true. Maybe rediscover elanor, the golden, star-shaped flower that no longer grows? And maybe they would weep, for the bygone era and a magnificence long gone.

I dunno where that came from. I was reading a KiyaNamiel's FF, Silent Flower of Song, and suddenly blurbed this out. Well, this is how I feel on the elves departure. Most of it is head-cannon, with parts of cannon facts. I wouldn't suggest using this as reference.

-Leafy