Ancient was Maglor son of Feanor, bitter and full of sorrow in his old age,
having ever dwelt in darkness after forsaking the Silmaril that he stole
from the hands that would deliver them into the hands of those who were
perceived their rightful bearers. However, his treachery was not in vain,
for the jewel that he claimed as his own was in its true and rightful
place, shining in the endless waters of the seas of Ulmo. But now he would
linger on ever in gloom unending, and suffer the most terrible of fates for
the Elder Children of Illuvator. Now would Maglor dwell ever in pain and
grief, being punished for the deeds he committed so long ago, reflecting
upon days of old and joys that there had been, and for him, would never be
again.
Beautiful was Arwen daughter of Elrond Halfelven, the last-born of all the Eldar, and all of Arda wept when she chose to suffer a mortal fate. For upon her and her brothers fell the choice of the Half-Elven; and while her brothers, Elladan and Elrohir, chose to sail into the Undying Realms and take in the bliss of Valinor, Arwen chose to remain in Middle-Earth with her love, Aragorn of the Dunedain. The fate of Luthien was to be hers, both the sweet and the bitter, and this was a choice that Arwen would come to rue. For she loved Aragorn, but as she dwelt upon Middle-Earth, she was filled with the sea-longing that came to all of her kin, but the way to Valinor was closed to her for ever. After the death of her beloved, she could no longer dwell in The White City, everything reminding her of the love she had lost, and her own impending doom - so she fled, haunted by grief, sorrow, and doom.
And they were the last of the Elves who dwelt upon Middle-Earth, a once proud and powerful race, now diminished to a mere whisper. They were the last, left behind due to ill choices and strange fates. They were the last, and perhaps they could find comfort in one another - but one thought the others' existence only a myth, and the other was not aware of their companion in sorrow at all.
But, soon they would be - for their final fates were tied together, and the last of those who wandered would soon discover that they were not as utterly alone as they first thought.
Beautiful was Arwen daughter of Elrond Halfelven, the last-born of all the Eldar, and all of Arda wept when she chose to suffer a mortal fate. For upon her and her brothers fell the choice of the Half-Elven; and while her brothers, Elladan and Elrohir, chose to sail into the Undying Realms and take in the bliss of Valinor, Arwen chose to remain in Middle-Earth with her love, Aragorn of the Dunedain. The fate of Luthien was to be hers, both the sweet and the bitter, and this was a choice that Arwen would come to rue. For she loved Aragorn, but as she dwelt upon Middle-Earth, she was filled with the sea-longing that came to all of her kin, but the way to Valinor was closed to her for ever. After the death of her beloved, she could no longer dwell in The White City, everything reminding her of the love she had lost, and her own impending doom - so she fled, haunted by grief, sorrow, and doom.
And they were the last of the Elves who dwelt upon Middle-Earth, a once proud and powerful race, now diminished to a mere whisper. They were the last, left behind due to ill choices and strange fates. They were the last, and perhaps they could find comfort in one another - but one thought the others' existence only a myth, and the other was not aware of their companion in sorrow at all.
But, soon they would be - for their final fates were tied together, and the last of those who wandered would soon discover that they were not as utterly alone as they first thought.
