Part 1

At the End of All Things

Small waves rolled upon the shore of the River Anduin, gently rocking the first of the last ships built to leave Middle-Earth. Legolas stood silently on the shore, a simple pack slung across his back along with his quiver and bow. He breathed in the air, listening to the song of the water.

Here in Ithilien, at the edge of Gondor, the remaining elves in Middle-Earth created a settlement. It was a peaceful life — gentle, even, after the horrors most faced during the War of the Ring. Even with a quiet life, however, there was still plenty of work to be done. Some elves, under Legolas' command, had traveled to distant regions of the land, scourging it of any remaining trace of Sauron. With the power of the Three Rings gone it was hard work, but in the end they claimed victory.

The dwarves began to also reclaim the earth as well; they worked hard to rebuild the cities of Middle-Earth. Minas Tirith in Gondor was the first city rebuilt — which had nothing to do with Gimli's friendship with the new king, of course. The new Lord of the Glittering Caves had found mithril deep in the caverns behind Helm's Deep and offered it as a way to rebuild the gates of the White City. To say that gift was priceless would diminish its value — and would have been an incredibly rude understatement.

Yes, life began to grow back; dark forests became green and alive again, and the scars of war began to fade. Yet, it was never the same.

Magic was fading from Middle-Earth.

"I hope you weren't planning on leaving without saying good-bye, laddie."
Legolas turned around. He must have been deeply lost in thought since he didn't hear the slow, shuffling footsteps of Gimli walking up behind him. The river song grew louder in the background.

"How could I?" Legolas grinned, pushing aside the anxiety that had been slowly building up all morning, as his old friend stood beside him. "I can't seem to get rid of you, no matter what I do … especially when there is a ship involved!"

"If you're talking about that trip to Fangorn," Gimli huffed, "we both agreed that we would travel together!"

"I don't think that means we both had to drown —"

"I had nothing to do with the boat capsizing on the way! There were orcs on the shoreline!"

Gimli pulled himself up a little straighter using his walking axe and stared at Legolas, who simply grinned and looked back out on the water.

"Yes," Legolas reminisced, "as you tried walking on water to reach the orcs, you so bravely pushed me forward — "

"I accidently bumped you — "

"— and then decided to grab on to me so you wouldn't drown —"

"— drown? Drown?! A dwarf would never —"

" — and on top of all of that," Legolas stated with mock indignation, "I caught a cold."

Gimli turned and stared out at water, fighting a smile. "A cold," he slowly shook his head, "A cold. And here I thought elves were above getting colds."

As he looked over at his friend, he noticed the smile on Legolas' face didn't reach his eyes. His actions and teasing told one story, but the sorrow in his eyes told another. Gimli slowly began to wander down the shoreline with Legolas, toward the dock where the ship was tied off.

"You know, laddie. It's okay that you're leaving. We'll be ok," Gimli scanned Legolas' face, which was now unreadable. "I understand how you must be feeling — "

"Feeling?! Feeling?" Legolas abruptly stopped at the edge of the dock and could barely contain his unease and frustration, which for days now had been boiling just beneath the surface. "Friend Gimli, I am torn! This world has been my home and I have lived lifetimes here. It is fading and my heart breaks for the world we lost and will never see again. Soon there will be no place for magic or elves in Middle-Earth. The forests will continue to grow back, but that spark of life — of knowing that the very air was alive — is gone. Nothing is the same."

"But — "

"And I will endure and watch helplessly," Legolas spat out, cutting Gimli off with a wave of his hand, "as everything I know and love eventually withers away and dies."

"I wouldn't call myself 'withering away' per say. More like 'getting rid of the unimportant stuff' …"

Legolas looked intently at Gimli and noticed for the first time how tired and — it pained Legolas to think it — old his friend actually was. The walking axe he used was more of a staff than weapon, and had been for some time now. Gimli looked back at him, his eyes reflecting his age more than he would ever be willing to admit.

"Mellon," Legolas gently placed his hand on his friend's shoulder, "What is worse than all of that is that I must go. My heart has been called away for a long time now and I have lingered far longer than I should have. I know you are old; far older than many of your kindred become. But you are also my last and truest friend — and I desperately need a friend, or I don't think I will have the courage to do what needs to be done. Will you come with me to the Undying Lands?"

"Laddie," the waves from the Anduin lapped carefree on the shore as Gimli clasped his hand on Legolas' forearm, "Did you honestly think you would be going alone?"

Ages would pass in the Undying Lands before Legolas could fully appreciate the magnitude of this moment. A friendship and fellowship that had been forged in the fires of war and desecration had endured long after victory, and in facing the end of the world (as they knew it) it only strengthened. A gift from the Valar that Legolas could only begin to truly cherish in this moment.

Legolas, subdued, walked the length of the dock, up the gangway, and onto the ship. He allowed Gimli to sit down and rest before beginning to untie the ropes that anchored them to the life they were now letting go of.

"Elvish" Translations

Mellon: Friend

Aa' lasser en lle coia orn n' omenta gurtha: May the leaves of your life tree never turn brown.

Aa' i'sul nora lanne'lle: May the wind fill your sails.

Aa' menle nauva calen ar' ta hwesta e' ale'quenle:May thy paths be green and the breeze on thy back.

Lissenen ar' maska'lalaith tenna' lye omentuva: Sweet water and light laughter till next we meet.

Namaarie: Farewell.