Author's Note: Thanks to Arathlithiel for going over this story even though Legolas is not exactly her favorite Lord of The Rings character J I wrote this shortly after I read Silmarillion, only a few days after I finished Lord of The Rings. As I am not as steeped in Tolkien-lore as a lot of his ardent fans out there, I apologize if I had a lot of the facts wrong in this story.
THE JOURNEY TO AVALLONE
The Lady in Black was there by the pier. Her son and daughters were beside her, as fair and as tall as their mother, their faces as grave and majestic as their father's. The hosts from Rohan and Ithilien were also there, kindred of the late King Eomer and Prince Faramir. A ship, grey and sleek, was moored to the quay. Its prow was carved in the likeness of a swan. A small cabin stood in its middle. Its masts were tall and well-wrought, its sails white with a very strange emblem on it. An axe with an arrow across it, in front of a great mallorn tree studded with jewels. For it was the ship of the Elf Legolas, made together with his closest and dearest friend, Gimli son of Gloin, the Dwarf.
"This is heavy parting indeed," said the Lady. "Because it is the end not only of the company of dear friends, but also of shared memories. And I shall have to bear all of them alone now, all the pain and sorrow, and the joy and the mirth. And it is such a heavy undertaking. Woe is greatest on me this day."
The Elf standing before her, with his grey-green robe billowing in the wind, looked at her sorrowfully. "If there were ways I could succour the emptiness in your heart, Lady Arwen," he said, "I would. But we both know such is a fruitless endeavour indeed, when my heart is also empty and has naught to offer but a hollow sympathy. Long have I pondered on this decision, and I have forestalled it many times, lingering in the hope that I might weary of the call of The Sea. But it proved futile, Lady Arwen. No one in our kindred can wholly defy The Sea, save the mightiest ones." And he bowed slightly.
Diamond-like tears rolled on Arwen's face, hidden, and yet shining through the thin black veil that she wore since the day of the death of her husband, Aragorn son of Arathorn, The King Elessar, well nigh a year ago. "Mighty I am not, Legolas," she said. "Yet I have chosen. And by that choice I stood though it be my doom. A doom even more foreshadowed by this sundering of our hearts."
Beside Legolas stood a stout dwarf with reddish brown beard. He looked up at Arwen's face and said, "Don't worry about the memories, Lady Arwen. For we shall keep them also with us. They shall never perish. We might not sit together and talk of the days gone past. But they are there with us nevertheless, and as long as you remember them, and I remember them, we are never far from each other."
Arwen looked at him and her eyes were blurred by more tears. "Gimli, Gimli, my dear friend," she said reaching out a white hand to Gimli's shoulder. "My heart ached the more for you. That Legolas felt The Summon, I shall not question that. But you, my friend, how can you leave without the certainty of a destination?"
"We have our destination, my Lady," said Gimli. "The shores of Avallone."
Arwen looked at Legolas. "They shall not understand this. An Elf they will gladly welcome, but a dwarf…even one as valiant and loyal as Gimli."
"I have no other place to go, my Lady," Gimli spoke. "Save where Legolas goes."
"If they turn Gimli away," said Legolas, "I shall leave too. Even if it means that I shall perish utterly."
"And there is someone I have to meet again ere death takes me," said Gimli wistfully. "The Lady of Lothlorien, whose fair face I want to see again for the last time."
Arwen wept softly while her children stood beside her, mute and helpless to ease her sorrow.
"Farewell, my Lady," said Legolas. "May Gondor thrive and wax in glory forever."
"Farewell, brave Lady," said Gimli. His eyes were glittering with tears. Without another word he turned and walked to the grey ship.
"Namariè," said Arwen, her voice barely audible in the whispering breeze.
Legolas bowed with his hand on his breast, and then he too walked toward the ship.
The hithlain rope was summoned from its coil in the harbour into the ship with a command from Legolas. The ship began to move, its sails full of wind. Legolas was at the helm, steering the ship into the fast current of the Anduin. Gimli sat in the cabin.
And so the last members of the Fellowship of the Ring left Middle-earth, one summoned by the irresistible call of The Sea, the other by the strangest love yet, a Dwarf's for an Elf.
"You are crying, Gimli?" called Legolas.
Gimli sniffed, "What stupid question! A dwarf cries! It was the breeze! This is going to be my most arduous journey yet. Even the wind is against me."
"It is against me too," whispered Legolas as he ran his fair hand over his eyes and wiped away his tears.