Summary: Time passes by Aragorn as he says his last good-byes to the memories he holds and the place he grew to be a man in.
Disclaimer: I own nothing in this and gain no profit from it, it all belongs to the creator of Middle-Earth!
Author's Note: I wrote this thinking of what Aragorn would do when he decided his time was done and his job in Middle-Earth was finished.
I myself am not to fond of Tolkien's Aragorn dies and then everyone leaves or dies version, but I found the song posted at the top of the story and felt something had to be written.
First of my pieces! I hope you all enjoy as sad a tail as it may be.
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To Leave These Fair Shores
"…In this fair land
I'll stay no more
Here labor is in vein
I'll seek the mountains far away
And leave the fertile plain…
…And when sun gives way to moon
And when silver starlight fills the sky
In the arms
Of these last heirs
Is where I'm bound to lie
Wind my blanket
Earth my bed
My cattle keep a tree
Willows by the river's edge
Will whisper me to sleep
I am going to the west
You say you will not go with me
You turn your eyes away
You say you will not follow me
No matter what I say…"
-Unknown
Aragorn ran his hand along the ornate railing that lined the main stairwell in the Last Homely House. The rich carpet under his feet did nothing to soften his steps on the aged stairs that groaned under his weight. The man slowly made his way up the well to the landing and turned to his right staring down the long empty hall way.
The house was nearly empty now; most of the fair beings that dwelt there had left for the undying lands, never to return to middle-earth again. So many things had changed since Aragorn was little; the sounds of the distant water falls could be heard in any part of the house, neither the singing of the elves nor the bantering among him and his brothers. The gardens had faded and the flowers drooped in mourning of the passing of the elves. The sun seemed to weep in the sky its rays lying dim along the once abundant valley.
Slowly the king of Gondor walked down the dusty hall and stopped in front of two lavishly decorated doors; the carved patterns wove their wave in and out of each other colliding together forming an intricate adornment that was an aw to stare at. Rough calloused hands gripped the golden handles and swung the great doors inward revealing the room just beyond.
Aragorn stepped into the vast study and looked around. The floors to ceiling book shelves were much unchanged since he had last seen them and an obvious layer of dust coated each book's old and brittle pages.
Sunlight streamed in through a large window on the far side of the room; spilling onto a huge deep brown desk adorned with a half melted candle, an old quill and one book that lay open. To the side of the desk in the wall sat a fireplace with ashes till marring its base grills that untouched wood sat upon.
Memories played in the man's mind as he walked around the room taking in the smells, sights and sounds. Dust could be seen wafting in the sunlight, the smell of paper and leather had always filled the room and no matter how much time passed it would not leave, the sound of birds outside the window resounded loudly in the stillness of the room.
Aragorn found himself walking over to his father's old desk running his hand over the top of the chair that sat at the desk and pulling it out; he did not sit for fear of disturbing such a thing that lay unoccupied for so long now. He leaned over the desk gray eyes sweeping over the dark green book that sat on the desk. He wiped the dust off the golden Elvin lettering that adorned the cover, spelling out his favorite tale from when he was younger.
Unstoppable tears shed into the sunlight spilling onto the desk as Aragorn remembered when his father or brothers used to read it to him. It was a tail of a brave young man who escaped danger and peril for his friends and love, a lover of the wild and a hero to all. He could hear his father's voice in his ears as if the Elvin Lord stood besides him reading it right then at that moment. Oh how he missed his family so.
The years that passed from the time they passed into the west seemed to take longer than the age he spent with them in Middle-Earth and now he was saying good-bye to his home for a final time. The house and valley he grew up in and learned the lessons of life and the essentials to get by in the wild. Where he used to banter with his brothers and lean upon his father's shoulder in times of trial. Where he had met his love and stumbled so many times lost and seeking for care and warmth.
It was here; all his memories lay and it was here that he had to leave. Rivendell would not fade because of his leaving, but his heart was darkened with the thought. His movements were now slow from age and his hair no longer a sleek black, but a timeless gray. His eyes held uncountable memories in the long years of his mortal life and now his time was near.
It was time to pass to the west where the halls of his forefathers had been for ages and where his family would join him in years to be passed. Aragorn realized now how much of life was to be cherished and such a realization at so late of time was heart wrenching. It was too late to thank his father and brothers. It was too late to see his dear friends one last time, because whether you're standing still or moving time will forever go on.
The king picked up the book that his hand lay on top of and held it to his chest, as if willing the words inside to fill his heart. For such a long life his heart felt so empty at the thought that soon his name will be but a whisper on the wind. His needs in life had been fulfilled and he left behind a son that would take up his throne unlike any other.
He had left his kingdom to come say good-bye now he would return to his palace to say a last farewell to his remaining family. A bitter parting to the air that had been with him since he first came into the world.
Life seemed so long while time flew and now that time slowed and became short life was more than a blur in memory for the man. He could not remember all from his life and all that he did remember he did not wish to keep a hold of; this was the life he had known and lived. His years were longer than most and with that came more to think of in times graceful passing.
And that life Aragorn held so dear.
The man found himself on his horse heading east once again, beginning his long journey to his home and family. Where his remaining friends waited for him; where he would pass along and be saved from the passing of time like the wind rushing past a fallen tree.
A saddened smile graces his features as he looked one last time over the valley of his childhood. The sun no longer shown down but the moon graced the Last Homely House with her elegant flooding light. He looked to the heavens silver tears sliding down his cheeks and with a sigh he whispered not a good-bye but a thank you. A thank you for gracing him with all he had gained and trusted in life. The beings he met and befriended and the ones he scorned and shunned from. A thank you for the family he missed dearly and the family he was returning too, if only for a short while.
A last glance at the valley caused a choked sob to rip through the man's lips, but still he smiled. In his hand he clenched his book and began into the woods that surrounded the haven of Imladrais.
And as Aragorn's shadowed figure left the valley he could feel the memories of life follow him in his wake, only to be embraced by his heart.
And little did the man know that with the leaving of those memories the valley of Rivendell did indeed darken and the stars above cried down into the empty house, leaving the Last Homely House to dwell for the next to stumble upon, singing its own memories.