She woke, in the night, when the bright stars flickered like cold flames in the deep dark sky, and knew that it was time.

There were no words to describe the desire of her heart: no speech or thought; she felt, knew, that she must leave or perish.  The longing had touched her soul, and even now she felt the pull stronger than chains dragging her away to destiny.

She arose from the bed and crossed the room.  Curtains rustled softly in the breeze, whispering to themselves.  Drawing them apart, she stood in the shadows of the night and breathed the same air that she had breathed for many years; but tonight, she thought she could feel a slight tinge of salt in the air, bitter reminder of the future.  The wind had changed, as it had for so many others of her kind, and never again would it set through the window as once it had.  Across the room, her lover sighed softly in his sleep, open eyes unseeing of the dark chamber.  She wondered if he felt the call, too, but did not wake him.  She would leave him peace, for she could keep none of it now for herself.

Outside the trees stirred by the same breeze swayed but no leaf fell from their branches.  The golden leaves of autumn had all but fallen; the bare branches bore not the fruit of long ago, although she had still bloomed here, so short a space ago.  This was the last harvest to be gathered; so many now were gone, travelling by sun and moon to the Havens far away.  And the golden-haired lord had stood firm and refused to yield to the call, though he too felt the sea-longing.  He had stood tall and fair while in his mind all seemed to wither about him.  No longer in Middle-earth was there any peace to be found, he said, and she had not understood why.  Glorfindel, lord of Rivendell, had remained while Elrond did not.  But Elrond was a keeper of one of the Three.  She had seen a great light leave his eyes when the Evil had been defeated: a light of power, but also a heavy burden.  The Three Elven Rings had the power to do great good, and Elrond was a healer; but now that power was gone, and there was a different calling for him.  He had departed with the other Keepers.  Never would he return, and she had not understood why.  Now she knew.  Now she felt the call.

Aiya!  Namárië! the shadows whispered in the dark recesses.  She shivered, but she was not cold from the chill: The winter had abandoned her, and she thought only of the unyielding Sea, of the rhythm of the waves enduring.

Her lover awakened, calling to her in the night: 'Nénar, vanya nin,' he said softly and his voice flowed like sea-water to her in the chamber.  He too arose from the bed and, taking a coverlet, wrapped it round her shoulders.  Nénar gazed into his eyes but could see no trace of the sea-longing there.  He had not been stricken with it yet.  She tucked a wisp of his long, silver-grey hair behind one ear gently and smiled sadly.

'Nénar, what troubles you?  For I would know,' he said, not understanding.

'Varda guide me, O love, for I can no longer dwell in this fair and familiar place,' she answered.  'This is the end of our age.'  A tear of foreboding slid down her face and trickled silver on her cheek by the waning of the crescent moon.

Nénar wrapped the coverlet more tightly about her shoulders like a shawl, but it could not keep out the cold in her heart.  He watched her silently with disquiet.  'Return to Lórien, Helluin,' she told him.  'Return while you still may.  The Lord remains for now, though its people dwindle day by day.  I would see you in its splendour one last time.  For I cannot.'

She saw now that he knew.  There was no need for direct speech, between them.  'You would take the swan-ship at the Grey Havens,' he said.

'There is no other way.'

He took her hand and kissed it.  Then, he drew her into his arms.  'We shall not be parted, eledhwen,' he murmured in her ear.  Silver hair mingled with golden in the starlight; as the Two Trees of long ago, their kindred was joined like day and night.  She of Rivendell, and he of Lórien, the last of two great houses.

'There is no turning back,' she said.  'You cannot return to these shores.  You need not leave, just yet.  I will wait for you.  I will wait for you in Valinor.'

'Nay!' said Helluin.  'I have made up my mind.  I knew this day would come; for I am far-sighted.  Only yesternight the sea-bird flew over fair Rivendell, but I knew long ago that you would be taken before I.  But I am not sad.  I once saw Círdan, in years past.  He is wise and noble.  He will sail us to a better place.  I know it lies beyond the last wave.'

At the mention of sea-bird she had grown cold again, beyond mortal recall.  It was a strange fate, she thought, that such a creature had crossed Rivendell, so far inland.  Surely it had been lost and far from home, the rocky eyries by the Sea.   Some one must have guided it here: some one or some thing.  Who or what, she did not know.  But the white gull had not haunted her steps in the bright sunshine of the day.  Only now had it struck, and struck as lightning to a lone and solitary tree in a field of grasses.  That she had not been inside tending to other duties!  That she had desired to go out and feel the Sun on her face!  Why had she chosen that day of days to travel to the gardens by the wood?  It had been her undoing.  But, she realised, she could not have prevented it.  Nénar was an Elda, and her people had been released from the Doom of Mandos to return to the Blessed Realm.  She was fated to leave Middle-earth.

Why, then, did the others resist?  Why stay, when all seemed to wither and die save the cities of Men?  The lands here were fair as always they had been, but as fine food turned to bitter ashes in her mouth, the forests grew paler and dimmer.  There was no hope left for immortals, only for Men.  But Glorfindel would stay until the end!  Elrond's sons had not left, either.  She saw their struggle every day, to remain in this place.  It was their domain, and they would not leave it.  Middle-earth had become dear to them, and like children grown accustomed to a favourite plaything, and they would not give it up.  The fair sons of Elrond and the elf-lord of old were strong, and brave; she was not.  She knew that the struggle was futile; it was useless.  All would depart these shores someday.  Perhaps it would be tomorrow; perhaps in many yén.  It did not matter.

Helluin kissed her.  'We'll away to the Sea,' he said.  She looked at him unseeing.  Her eyes were grey, clouded with unfallen tears.  'Come; it is near dawn.  We'll gather our belongings and tarry no longer.'

She followed him in a daze as he stepped lightly to pack clothes and rations for the journey to the havens, and as if from a distant dream words sprang from her mouth, became a lilting melody:

From distant lands and shifting sands

We left the shores of old;

In Endor fair the Elves forgot

With hearts unwearied, became bold.

Left Valinor, left Blessed Realm,

And crossed Helcaraxë,

But someday sail we back to home

And there forever after stay.

Well, there's three hours of slaving over a computer monitor for ye'.

Notes:

eledhwen 'star-maiden'

Helluin = another name for Sirius (a star)

Nénar = another star, created by Varda the Kindler

yén = elvish measurement of time

On Nénar's hair; I haven't begun to contemplate her lineage, but I seem to remember that golden hair is not common in Rivendell.  The obvious counterargument would be that Glorfindel has golden tresses…  At any rate, I'm working on an explanation.

And one more thing: 'Helcaraxë' would normally be pronounced Hel-ca-RAX-ë, but for the purposes of the poetic metre the stress will fall on the second syllable.

Thank-you to all who review!