A/N: I'm not sure why I wrote the ending this way, and I may get flamed saying that no Elf can escape the Doom if Ilúvatar, but hey, this is just a fic. And the time in M.E passes differently from that of Shalane's world, that is, the years pass faster in M.E.

Lessons

Eight: In Dreams

   All the Firstborn felt the call of Eru Ilúvatar, that the Doom was near, and that Arda's end was soon. Many were dismayed, and cried in plea to the Lord of the Valar for aid, but Manwë Súlimo was of the offspring of the One as well, and could do naught.

   Legolas cared little of that. Almost three ages had passed since his birth, and he was weary. Yet, a bond that he had gave him the strength to continue, at least until she who he had bonded with grew weary as well.

   He could feel it in his soul, and though other Elves of his age came together in support and friendship, he drew away and traveled alone to Southern Mirkwood; long had it been since he had gone there.

   Now, he returned, and sought for the lake of his intent, and he found it with ease.

   The water showed naught but his reflection as he stood before it. In the remote distance, his sharp ears caught the mighty roaring of wind, and he knew that Doom neared.

   He held a picture frame in his hand, and in his heart, he called out, "Meleth nîn." (My love)

***

   An old lady rested on a bench in the park, a single person, inconspicuous amongst other park users. Still, she looked hale and healthy, and sat with a straight back.

   Around her neck was clasped a necklace with a leaf pendent, and in her hand, she held a bow, delicately engraved and carefully carved with the designs of leaves and twines.

  The lake before her was calm. As she gazed at it, she felt her age finally catch up with her.

   "Meleth nîn," a soft voice whispered, from her heart or from beyond the lake, she didn't know.

   She smiled, leaned back against the bench, placed the bow gently on her lap, and closed her eyes. She could hear the roaring of distant winds as if a hurricane approached.

   The green jewel on the leaf pendent flared briefly, and died.

***

   The winds and darkness reached him, and what he knew next was nothing but a presence familiar to him from long years past, touching his face.

   "Legolas." The spoken name was a caress.

   "Shalane, meleth nîn." He took her hand.

   And together, they dispersed, beyond Arda, beyond the Valar, and mayhap even beyond Eru Ilúvatar himself.

~finis~