Disclaimer: Tolkien is god. I'm just playing around, and most definitely
not making any money.
A/N: Halloo everyone. I adore Tolkien (Who's seen the Two Towers?! AHH! SOOO good!), but I've never been able to come up with a LOTR fanfic... until now. Some of the events in this fic are based on things that are spoken about in the appendices, but I don't *think* that you need to read them to understand. Oh, and this is written from Arwen's point of view- she calls Aragorn Estel (that was his name when he met her), for those that haven't read the appendices. Well, here goes.
********************
My father always told me this day would come. Some part of me refused to believe, tried to ignore the fact that became increasingly plain as each passing day left it's trace on your dear face. That part of my heart that disbelieved shattered the moment I saw, the moment you said, the moment I knew. You are dying.
And all I wish is to follow you.
You came to me at dawn, and told me. You said that it was time. Time to leave Gondor to our children, time to leave Middle-Earth forever... time to die. But it is too early yet. The sun still shines upon the white tree, and the breeze is still fresh as it billows about the beautiful autumn leaves. We cannot depart yet. Please.
But you are tired, I see it in your eyes. So very tired, and I cannot halt time. How I wish I could. Just to spend a few more years with you, a couple more summers in your arms, would cure my grief as we walk to the House of the Kings. But this day cannot be avoided. Iluvatar's gift to the humans. Gift.
It is a curse.
I walk with you to the House of the Kings, trying to preserve in my memory each step you take. The way your arms swing slightly, the way you turn and smile at the people we pass, the enchanting grin you turn to me. You are walking to your death, Estel, and I wish, so hard it hurts, that you would stay more time with me yet. Death is not natural to me or my peoples, Estel, it is not right. It is not fair.
Eldarion, our son, received your crown and sceptre- he will make a fine king. His future lies before him, but it is gone for us. I only wish to follow you.
You lie there before me, in the House of the Kings, ready for whatever comes. And you tell me that there is still hope for me in taking a ship west. No, Estel. Never without you.
I feel my hot tears fall as you bid me farewell. Please, Estel, don't leave. Please.
You kiss my hand, and are gone.
I shatter.
This is the end of all good things. My people are gone and Middle-Earth loses something so essential and natural that it no longer feels like home. Lorien fades, and the trees become deaf and mute. And my Estel dies. I bless my father's kin, who gave me my choice: to follow you, or to follow my father. And yet... I am afraid. Where will I go? Will I follow you, my dear Estel, and see you again, in the halls of Mandos? Or are those tales just fiction, just lies to comfort the mortal? Is this the last time I will see your face, made noble and beautiful beyond imagining with your death? I want to see you laugh again. Is there an eternity where we can stay together after my passing? Where you can see the Fellowship again? Or is it blackness? Endless, stretching blackness, with no Estel by my side. But I will take the risk. I will follow you.
I leave the dimness of the House of the Kings, and walk into the sun, but all I feel is the chill. You are no longer with me, no longer here. Where am I?
I am shattering, slivers of a broken mirror thrown over the dead earth. I see the grief of your people, but theirs is the mourning of their king, their hero, Elessar, that saved them from evil; not the man Estel, who's embrace I could drown in. But there are none left now. No smiles to ease my tears, like the sun on a foggy morning. The name my father gave you -Estel- means Hope. And my hope died as you did.
I bid our children goodbye, and leave for Lorien. Winter is coming, and the ice in the air hurts my throat as I breathe. I saw the grief in their eyes as I left, and I still wish I could make it easier for them. But I do not know how. I cannot stay- I cannot. I am sorry.
Estel, I am coming. Please wait for me.
The leaves of the Mallorns fall, but the people who once lived here have all gone. They left, with my father, on the fair ships, and their absence is engraved in the hearts of the trees they so loved. I lived here with my mother's kin for some years, and the forest in my memory is so different from the forest around me that I nearly shudder. There is something missing, as if the trees are fading into transparency. They are pale, drawn, and... dying.
As am I. I can feel it.
I made my choice long ago.
I am following.
*
"Arwen."
I would know your voice anywhere.
"You followed." You smile as you say it, and you look so very young again... but so very sad. I can only nod in reply.
You smile and take me in your familiar embrace. And I fall into oblivion, holding to you.
"I love you."
********************
A/N: Well, I finished. Finally. Writer's block is evil. Speaking of which- for any of you who have read "There for me", I am having *serious* writer's block. AGH! Oh well. I'm still trudging through it, so I haven't given up on it yet. *grin*
Please please please review. I'm not very happy with this story, and I really need your opinions and feedback (because I think I may come back to this and edit it some time...). Constructive criticism is quite welcome, and you may want to check back after you've said something, because I might reply- feedback to your feedback, if you will. *grin*
~Revia
A/N: Halloo everyone. I adore Tolkien (Who's seen the Two Towers?! AHH! SOOO good!), but I've never been able to come up with a LOTR fanfic... until now. Some of the events in this fic are based on things that are spoken about in the appendices, but I don't *think* that you need to read them to understand. Oh, and this is written from Arwen's point of view- she calls Aragorn Estel (that was his name when he met her), for those that haven't read the appendices. Well, here goes.
********************
My father always told me this day would come. Some part of me refused to believe, tried to ignore the fact that became increasingly plain as each passing day left it's trace on your dear face. That part of my heart that disbelieved shattered the moment I saw, the moment you said, the moment I knew. You are dying.
And all I wish is to follow you.
You came to me at dawn, and told me. You said that it was time. Time to leave Gondor to our children, time to leave Middle-Earth forever... time to die. But it is too early yet. The sun still shines upon the white tree, and the breeze is still fresh as it billows about the beautiful autumn leaves. We cannot depart yet. Please.
But you are tired, I see it in your eyes. So very tired, and I cannot halt time. How I wish I could. Just to spend a few more years with you, a couple more summers in your arms, would cure my grief as we walk to the House of the Kings. But this day cannot be avoided. Iluvatar's gift to the humans. Gift.
It is a curse.
I walk with you to the House of the Kings, trying to preserve in my memory each step you take. The way your arms swing slightly, the way you turn and smile at the people we pass, the enchanting grin you turn to me. You are walking to your death, Estel, and I wish, so hard it hurts, that you would stay more time with me yet. Death is not natural to me or my peoples, Estel, it is not right. It is not fair.
Eldarion, our son, received your crown and sceptre- he will make a fine king. His future lies before him, but it is gone for us. I only wish to follow you.
You lie there before me, in the House of the Kings, ready for whatever comes. And you tell me that there is still hope for me in taking a ship west. No, Estel. Never without you.
I feel my hot tears fall as you bid me farewell. Please, Estel, don't leave. Please.
You kiss my hand, and are gone.
I shatter.
This is the end of all good things. My people are gone and Middle-Earth loses something so essential and natural that it no longer feels like home. Lorien fades, and the trees become deaf and mute. And my Estel dies. I bless my father's kin, who gave me my choice: to follow you, or to follow my father. And yet... I am afraid. Where will I go? Will I follow you, my dear Estel, and see you again, in the halls of Mandos? Or are those tales just fiction, just lies to comfort the mortal? Is this the last time I will see your face, made noble and beautiful beyond imagining with your death? I want to see you laugh again. Is there an eternity where we can stay together after my passing? Where you can see the Fellowship again? Or is it blackness? Endless, stretching blackness, with no Estel by my side. But I will take the risk. I will follow you.
I leave the dimness of the House of the Kings, and walk into the sun, but all I feel is the chill. You are no longer with me, no longer here. Where am I?
I am shattering, slivers of a broken mirror thrown over the dead earth. I see the grief of your people, but theirs is the mourning of their king, their hero, Elessar, that saved them from evil; not the man Estel, who's embrace I could drown in. But there are none left now. No smiles to ease my tears, like the sun on a foggy morning. The name my father gave you -Estel- means Hope. And my hope died as you did.
I bid our children goodbye, and leave for Lorien. Winter is coming, and the ice in the air hurts my throat as I breathe. I saw the grief in their eyes as I left, and I still wish I could make it easier for them. But I do not know how. I cannot stay- I cannot. I am sorry.
Estel, I am coming. Please wait for me.
The leaves of the Mallorns fall, but the people who once lived here have all gone. They left, with my father, on the fair ships, and their absence is engraved in the hearts of the trees they so loved. I lived here with my mother's kin for some years, and the forest in my memory is so different from the forest around me that I nearly shudder. There is something missing, as if the trees are fading into transparency. They are pale, drawn, and... dying.
As am I. I can feel it.
I made my choice long ago.
I am following.
*
"Arwen."
I would know your voice anywhere.
"You followed." You smile as you say it, and you look so very young again... but so very sad. I can only nod in reply.
You smile and take me in your familiar embrace. And I fall into oblivion, holding to you.
"I love you."
********************
A/N: Well, I finished. Finally. Writer's block is evil. Speaking of which- for any of you who have read "There for me", I am having *serious* writer's block. AGH! Oh well. I'm still trudging through it, so I haven't given up on it yet. *grin*
Please please please review. I'm not very happy with this story, and I really need your opinions and feedback (because I think I may come back to this and edit it some time...). Constructive criticism is quite welcome, and you may want to check back after you've said something, because I might reply- feedback to your feedback, if you will. *grin*
~Revia