II - A Last Farewell
The journey to Minas Tirith should have been a merry and pleasant one for the small group of elves accompanying Legolas and the two messengers, for once the cool morning mists had dissolved, the days got warm and sunny, and summer still seemed to linger, although it was now the beginning of October. Yet the mood of the travellers was subdued, and there was little talk and less laughter.
From time to time, the older of the two men from Gondor - Beriar was his name - cast a furtive glance at the tall elf walking silently a few steps ahead of the little group, sometimes in long conversations with his brother. Like all the other elves, he was equipped with a bow and quiver, and two long knives with white, beautifully engraved handles were strapped to his quiver. As a small child, Beriar had heard his grandfather tell the tale of the Ring of Power and the quest for its destruction, and he knew that Legolas had fought alongside Aragorn, the last descendant of the Numénorean kings, in the last defence of Gondor and Rohan. But Aragorn, the King Elessar, was very old now, ancient by the reckoning of men, whereas the elf's face showed no signs of age, and he seemed much younger than Beriar himself. Beriar marvelled at this wondrous folk, and he wished they would sing, for he had heard stories of how they liked to praise the creation in their beautiful voices. But he saw the sadness which sat on Legolas' brow, and kept silence like his fellow travellers.
On the fourth day after leaving the beechwood halls, the little group entered Minas Tirith. People in the streets stopped and looked on in wonder as they passed, for although many knew that there were still elves in South Ithilien, few had ever seen any of the fair folk. Beriar led the travellers through the winding roads of the City, up towards the Citadel, until they reached the seventh and innermost circle of the City, and the High Court.
The ground inside the courtyard was strewn with white leaves; only a few still clung to the branches of the White Tree, the last scion of the line of Nimloth. Two silent figures robed in dark blue stood waiting for them near the fountain in the middle of the court, their faces half-hidden by the branches of the tall, beautiful tree. One was a woman, slight of stature, with soft features in a clear face that had aged gracefully and still held all the beauty of youth. Her bearing was serene and erect; yet her grey eyes were deep wells of sadness. The man at her side was tall and dark, of proud bearing. He resembled her a lot, but there was also a rougher quality to his features which likened him to his father, King Elessar.
Legolas bowed his head. "Arwen Undômiel." The woman returned his greeting. "Suilad, Thranduilion. I am comforted to see you here." Prince Eldarion put his right hand across his chest and said, "Be welcome, my lord. My father awaits you." With that, he turned to lead the way.
Beriar, Fingalas and the other elves stayed behind in the courtyard as Legolas and Queen Arwen followed the prince to the king's quarters. Many a time Legolas had walked through these halls and corridors, but never had his heart been as heavy as now. When they reached the door to the King's chamber, Eldarion turned to his mother and Legolas.
"I ask your patience for only a while. It was my father's wish to speak to me alone one last time." Without a word, the Queen sat down on a bench outside the room. Eldarion stepped inside, closing the door behind him. Legolas laid his bow and quiver down on the ground next to the door.
Neither of them spoke as they waited. Legolas looked at the veiled face of his kinswoman. Although she had renounced the gift of the Eldar and had become a mortal woman ancient of years now, her flawless skin showed almost no lines, and her dark hair was touched by very few silver strands. As Legolas watched, Queen Arwen looked up and met his eyes. Despite the glorious autumn sun which sent rays of light and warmth through the windows, he could feel her despair like the bitter frost of winter, and his own sadness deepened.
The door to the chamber opened again, and Prince Eldarion came out. His face was a mask of controlled grief. "The King awaits you." He stepped aside, and Legolas followed Arwen into the room. The Queen walked over to the farthest of the four windows and sat on a stool, her back very straight, looking out with unseeing eyes.
King Elessar was sitting in an armchair near the window closest to the door. The sun played on his face, showing the deep lines of very old age. Yet he still looked hale, and it was hard to believe that his life had spanned over two hundred years. With soft, noiseless steps, Legolas walked over to the king and knelt. The old man reached out a hand. "No, Thranduilion. There is no need for that. Aragorn called for you, not King Elessar." The elf looked up and smiled. "Very well, my lord. And Legolas has come, not Thranduilion." With those words, he got to his feet and stood leaning against the window's ledge.
The king looked over to where Arwen sat, and sorrow clouded his eyes. "It is time for me to go, Legolas," he said quietly. "It is sixty years ago now that Master Samwise left, and nearly as long that we laid Master Meriadoc and Thain Peregrin to rest in Rath Dínen."
The elf chuckled softly. "For me, they will always be Merry and Pippin, those two dear hobbits. I cherish the memory of their cheerfulness." The king smiled. "It was one to match your own - even if their songs were of a little coarser nature. But now, at last, the Fellowship is truly coming to an end."
A shadow passed across Legolas' fair face. "It grieves me that Gimli is not here. I should have wished to see the three hunters together once more." Aragorn sighed. "So should I. But Gimli has many worries at this time, and his attention cannot be spared. It was a severe blow for him when his nephew and heir Drórin was killed by marauding orcs."
Legolas' expression saddened, and he sighed. "How much longer will Sauron's legacy be troubling the people of Middle-earth?" The old king shook his head. "These creatures are like nightmares from an evil past, but their time is over. They will soon be forgotten." Aragorn hesitated, but the elf finished the sentence for him. "Like dwarves and elves." He gave a rueful smile.
They kept silent for a while. Finally, as if rousing himself from a dream, the king spoke again. "And you, my old friend?"
Legolas did not reply immediately but turned to look out the window, staring into far distances. Then he faced the king again. "I have been called. I received a message from the Lady Galadriel." He paused, his eyes cast down on the floor. "I will miss Ithilien. It has become a home for us, even though we knew it was not to last. But it would turn into a lonely place for me now." Legolas lifted his head again. "I shall go once more to find the Sun."
Aragorn nodded. At that moment, Arwen stirred in her seat at the far end of the room, and the king's smile vanished. Legolas looked at his friend with deep compassion. "What will become of the Queen?" he asked softly. Aragorn's face was troubled. "She will go to rest in Lórien." There was a long silence between them. At last, Legolas spoke. "I should be honoured to accompany her on that journey, if that is her wish." The king looked up at the elf, and it seemed that some of the weight was lifted from his brow. "Hannon le, Legolas. I know she will be grateful to her kinsman for that last service."
Sensing that this was what had been most at the heart of his old friend, Legolas knew that the time for parting had come. Queen Arwen got up from her chair and slowly came walking over to them. The elf looked at the man, and there was no need for words to communicate their deep friendship and respect for each other.
Legolas put his right hand to his heart and then opened his arm again in a sweeping movement, bowing his head in the elvish gesture of farewell. "Anor sílant erin lû govaded mîn."(2)
The old king smiled. "Then let there be no clouds upon our parting." He returned the farewell and looked at his friend for a long, long time. Then he averted his eyes and held his hand out to the Queen.
Legolas turned and without a sound left the King's chamber. He closed the door quietly and stood very still for a seemingly endless moment, resting his hand on the beautifully carved wood and leaning his head against it. Finally he stirred.
"Namarië, mellon nîn", he whispered.
As he turned to leave, he heard a familiar sound and, stepping out onto the adjacent balcony, saw the silver seagull circling high in the sky again. With another piercing cry, the big bird sailed down towards Legolas and landed on the balcony's parapet. The elf stroked its silvery feathers.
"Will you bear a message for me?" he asked softly. The bird cocked its head to one side as if listening. Legolas went inside and bent down to pick an arrow from the quiver which he had laid down beside the door to the King's chamber. He stepped back outside and offered the arrow to the seagull. The bird eyed it curiously for a moment, then carefully took it in his sharp beak and climbed onto Legolas' right arm.
The elf leaned over the parapet. "Tell the dwarf I shall be leaving soon", he said, and with that he threw the beautiful bird high in the air. It flapped its huge wings to gain height, then circled above him three times before it took off towards the north-west. Legolas stood for a long time, watching the seagull become smaller and smaller until it finally vanished from sight even for his far-seeing elven eyes. With an almost imperceptible shudder, he turned from the balcony towards the entrance to the King's quarters.
At that moment, the door opened, and a hooded figure came out. She lifted her head, and their eyes met. The grief was almost unbearable. Legolas bowed his head. When he looked up again, Queen Arwen was gone.
(2) Anor sílant erin lû govaded mîn = The Sun shone upon the hour of our meeting.
The journey to Minas Tirith should have been a merry and pleasant one for the small group of elves accompanying Legolas and the two messengers, for once the cool morning mists had dissolved, the days got warm and sunny, and summer still seemed to linger, although it was now the beginning of October. Yet the mood of the travellers was subdued, and there was little talk and less laughter.
From time to time, the older of the two men from Gondor - Beriar was his name - cast a furtive glance at the tall elf walking silently a few steps ahead of the little group, sometimes in long conversations with his brother. Like all the other elves, he was equipped with a bow and quiver, and two long knives with white, beautifully engraved handles were strapped to his quiver. As a small child, Beriar had heard his grandfather tell the tale of the Ring of Power and the quest for its destruction, and he knew that Legolas had fought alongside Aragorn, the last descendant of the Numénorean kings, in the last defence of Gondor and Rohan. But Aragorn, the King Elessar, was very old now, ancient by the reckoning of men, whereas the elf's face showed no signs of age, and he seemed much younger than Beriar himself. Beriar marvelled at this wondrous folk, and he wished they would sing, for he had heard stories of how they liked to praise the creation in their beautiful voices. But he saw the sadness which sat on Legolas' brow, and kept silence like his fellow travellers.
On the fourth day after leaving the beechwood halls, the little group entered Minas Tirith. People in the streets stopped and looked on in wonder as they passed, for although many knew that there were still elves in South Ithilien, few had ever seen any of the fair folk. Beriar led the travellers through the winding roads of the City, up towards the Citadel, until they reached the seventh and innermost circle of the City, and the High Court.
The ground inside the courtyard was strewn with white leaves; only a few still clung to the branches of the White Tree, the last scion of the line of Nimloth. Two silent figures robed in dark blue stood waiting for them near the fountain in the middle of the court, their faces half-hidden by the branches of the tall, beautiful tree. One was a woman, slight of stature, with soft features in a clear face that had aged gracefully and still held all the beauty of youth. Her bearing was serene and erect; yet her grey eyes were deep wells of sadness. The man at her side was tall and dark, of proud bearing. He resembled her a lot, but there was also a rougher quality to his features which likened him to his father, King Elessar.
Legolas bowed his head. "Arwen Undômiel." The woman returned his greeting. "Suilad, Thranduilion. I am comforted to see you here." Prince Eldarion put his right hand across his chest and said, "Be welcome, my lord. My father awaits you." With that, he turned to lead the way.
Beriar, Fingalas and the other elves stayed behind in the courtyard as Legolas and Queen Arwen followed the prince to the king's quarters. Many a time Legolas had walked through these halls and corridors, but never had his heart been as heavy as now. When they reached the door to the King's chamber, Eldarion turned to his mother and Legolas.
"I ask your patience for only a while. It was my father's wish to speak to me alone one last time." Without a word, the Queen sat down on a bench outside the room. Eldarion stepped inside, closing the door behind him. Legolas laid his bow and quiver down on the ground next to the door.
Neither of them spoke as they waited. Legolas looked at the veiled face of his kinswoman. Although she had renounced the gift of the Eldar and had become a mortal woman ancient of years now, her flawless skin showed almost no lines, and her dark hair was touched by very few silver strands. As Legolas watched, Queen Arwen looked up and met his eyes. Despite the glorious autumn sun which sent rays of light and warmth through the windows, he could feel her despair like the bitter frost of winter, and his own sadness deepened.
The door to the chamber opened again, and Prince Eldarion came out. His face was a mask of controlled grief. "The King awaits you." He stepped aside, and Legolas followed Arwen into the room. The Queen walked over to the farthest of the four windows and sat on a stool, her back very straight, looking out with unseeing eyes.
King Elessar was sitting in an armchair near the window closest to the door. The sun played on his face, showing the deep lines of very old age. Yet he still looked hale, and it was hard to believe that his life had spanned over two hundred years. With soft, noiseless steps, Legolas walked over to the king and knelt. The old man reached out a hand. "No, Thranduilion. There is no need for that. Aragorn called for you, not King Elessar." The elf looked up and smiled. "Very well, my lord. And Legolas has come, not Thranduilion." With those words, he got to his feet and stood leaning against the window's ledge.
The king looked over to where Arwen sat, and sorrow clouded his eyes. "It is time for me to go, Legolas," he said quietly. "It is sixty years ago now that Master Samwise left, and nearly as long that we laid Master Meriadoc and Thain Peregrin to rest in Rath Dínen."
The elf chuckled softly. "For me, they will always be Merry and Pippin, those two dear hobbits. I cherish the memory of their cheerfulness." The king smiled. "It was one to match your own - even if their songs were of a little coarser nature. But now, at last, the Fellowship is truly coming to an end."
A shadow passed across Legolas' fair face. "It grieves me that Gimli is not here. I should have wished to see the three hunters together once more." Aragorn sighed. "So should I. But Gimli has many worries at this time, and his attention cannot be spared. It was a severe blow for him when his nephew and heir Drórin was killed by marauding orcs."
Legolas' expression saddened, and he sighed. "How much longer will Sauron's legacy be troubling the people of Middle-earth?" The old king shook his head. "These creatures are like nightmares from an evil past, but their time is over. They will soon be forgotten." Aragorn hesitated, but the elf finished the sentence for him. "Like dwarves and elves." He gave a rueful smile.
They kept silent for a while. Finally, as if rousing himself from a dream, the king spoke again. "And you, my old friend?"
Legolas did not reply immediately but turned to look out the window, staring into far distances. Then he faced the king again. "I have been called. I received a message from the Lady Galadriel." He paused, his eyes cast down on the floor. "I will miss Ithilien. It has become a home for us, even though we knew it was not to last. But it would turn into a lonely place for me now." Legolas lifted his head again. "I shall go once more to find the Sun."
Aragorn nodded. At that moment, Arwen stirred in her seat at the far end of the room, and the king's smile vanished. Legolas looked at his friend with deep compassion. "What will become of the Queen?" he asked softly. Aragorn's face was troubled. "She will go to rest in Lórien." There was a long silence between them. At last, Legolas spoke. "I should be honoured to accompany her on that journey, if that is her wish." The king looked up at the elf, and it seemed that some of the weight was lifted from his brow. "Hannon le, Legolas. I know she will be grateful to her kinsman for that last service."
Sensing that this was what had been most at the heart of his old friend, Legolas knew that the time for parting had come. Queen Arwen got up from her chair and slowly came walking over to them. The elf looked at the man, and there was no need for words to communicate their deep friendship and respect for each other.
Legolas put his right hand to his heart and then opened his arm again in a sweeping movement, bowing his head in the elvish gesture of farewell. "Anor sílant erin lû govaded mîn."(2)
The old king smiled. "Then let there be no clouds upon our parting." He returned the farewell and looked at his friend for a long, long time. Then he averted his eyes and held his hand out to the Queen.
Legolas turned and without a sound left the King's chamber. He closed the door quietly and stood very still for a seemingly endless moment, resting his hand on the beautifully carved wood and leaning his head against it. Finally he stirred.
"Namarië, mellon nîn", he whispered.
As he turned to leave, he heard a familiar sound and, stepping out onto the adjacent balcony, saw the silver seagull circling high in the sky again. With another piercing cry, the big bird sailed down towards Legolas and landed on the balcony's parapet. The elf stroked its silvery feathers.
"Will you bear a message for me?" he asked softly. The bird cocked its head to one side as if listening. Legolas went inside and bent down to pick an arrow from the quiver which he had laid down beside the door to the King's chamber. He stepped back outside and offered the arrow to the seagull. The bird eyed it curiously for a moment, then carefully took it in his sharp beak and climbed onto Legolas' right arm.
The elf leaned over the parapet. "Tell the dwarf I shall be leaving soon", he said, and with that he threw the beautiful bird high in the air. It flapped its huge wings to gain height, then circled above him three times before it took off towards the north-west. Legolas stood for a long time, watching the seagull become smaller and smaller until it finally vanished from sight even for his far-seeing elven eyes. With an almost imperceptible shudder, he turned from the balcony towards the entrance to the King's quarters.
At that moment, the door opened, and a hooded figure came out. She lifted her head, and their eyes met. The grief was almost unbearable. Legolas bowed his head. When he looked up again, Queen Arwen was gone.
(2) Anor sílant erin lû govaded mîn = The Sun shone upon the hour of our meeting.