Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of The Rings (although I wish I did, hehe) or any characters mentioned in this story. So please, please, please, do not sue me because I am making absolutely NO money off of this!
A/N: Hullo! This is my first, ever fanfic so forgive me if it isn't all that great. I am open to any suggestions or comments, but please no flames. I don't want you guys to scare me away from ever writing another fanfic again! Anyways, I have a vague idea on where this story is going, but I'm not completely sure. I guess I'll just see where my writing takes me!
Slowly Drifting Apart
"Arwen, there is nothing left for you in Middle Earth. Once Aragorn passes there will be no hope for you; you shall grow old and despair."
Her father's words echoed in her mind over and over again. She never had any regrets about her decision to give up her immortality nor leaving the rest of her kin. Yet recently, when Aragorn began to show signs of weakening, she thought much more about her past decisions.
'What if I had sailed into the West like I should have. That's where I really belong…Not here in Minas Tirith.' She wondered with dismay.
Arwen stood on her balcony, looking out on the magnificence Gonder carried. The sun's rays shone down and illuminated the grassy field, where bodies once lay during the Battle of the Pelennor Fields. As she contemplated her thoughts, Arwen heard light footsteps coming from the doorway.
It was Ioreth, the wise woman who serves in the Houses of Healing. "Come, Arwen. It is nearing that time…," She said with a grim expression on her face.
Arwen pushed her gloomy thoughts away, back into the depths of her mind where they had been locked up all these years, as she nodded to Ioreth. The two woman left the balcony without speaking another word.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Upon entering the room, Arwen was greeted with a disheartening sight. The King was lying peacefully on a large bed, dressed in his most noble robes, but he was barely breathing. A pillow was used to prop up his head, for he could hardly lift it on his own and he talked with a hoarse voice.
She carefully knelt beside her dying husband as Ioreth remained standing by the doorway along with the couple's son, Eldarion.
Arwen gazed down at him. His face seemed to have aged more than ten years, even though it had only been a day since she had last saw him. She knew his time had finally come, yet she couldn't bring herself to believe it.
Arwen whispered quietly into his ear, "Aragorn, I know I made the right choice to give up my immortality." Tears began to roll down her cheeks as she continued, "I wouldn't have traded anything for the time I have spent with you."
She took Aragorn's hand into hers as she tenderly stroked his hair with the other.
"But I can't bare the thought of how you shall spend the rest of your life...Grieving over my death only to die alone, in the end. I will never forgive myself for causing you that sort of pain." A look of anguish appeared on Aragorn's withered face.
"That's not how my life will end. I won't let it!" Arwen assured.
"You and I have both foreseen it."
Deep down, Arwen knew he was right. Just as she was thinking before, she had her own doubts, but she could never show them. She felt Aragorn's grip start to loosen.
"Even if that is how I will spend the rest of my days, I still have no regrets about my decision to stay with you and I never will. We will always have our memories together and my love for you will stay forever strong."
Aragorn gave a faint smile as he felt the strength in him dwindling down to nothing. His deep, brown eyes slowly began to close, as he gathered one last breath, "I love you, Arwen."
A/N: Well there you have it! My very first chappy of my very first fanfic. Don't forget to review, please!!!