Author's Note:
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Elfwine
He knew it had to happen sometime, but he didn't realise it happened so soon.
Eldarion stood before him. He was not young; rather he was preserved. The height of his brow was the same as the prime of his youth. His hair was still as black as a raven's wing, only a little shaggier now that he wore it long. He was still fit and lean. The only things that changed were his eyes and his smile. Both lost a little bit of his innocent youth, as if he knew what had occurred.
Elfwine was not an old man, but he was not young either. His hair has wisps of white in them. There were wrinkles in the outer corners of his eyes. One or two age spots covered his hands. His lips were thinner and his nose was slightly thicker.
Elfwine searched his friend's eyes frantically, looking for answers. Eldarion smiled only a little.
"I warned you," Eldarion said softly. "I am meant to age slowly, with the blood of Elves in my veins."
Realising what it meant for their future as friends, and how Eldarion would outlive them all, Elfwine's defences crumbled.
Elfwine hugged his friend, kissed him on his forehead and wept.
