My father sailed over the seas three years later. In this time I never saw him, nor did I have a chance to farewell him from the Grey Havens. But I know he was always watching over me, always with me in every moment, despite what he had said. I sensed his sorrow as he boarded the ship; a sudden feeling of despair had come over me that day. I felt his heart lighten as he thought of the long awaited reunion with my mother, Celebrian. And then, I felt his presence leave me. It was then that I knew he was truly gone. Gone to a place I could never go, Valinor.
For six score years, my Dúnadan reigned, a just and wise ruler, much like one of the early kings of Númenor. During that time I bore him an heir, a son who we named Eldarion, an elven name following the traditions of the kings of old. It means son of elves (A/N Eldar- the elves, ion-son It was a guess)
Then the time came for him to leave the circles of this world. When our son had come into his fullness of his manhood, Aragorn took me aside. He told me,
"At last, Lady Evenstar, fairest in the world, and most beloved, my world is fading, and now the time of payment draws near." I knew what he meant. Afore times, the men of Númenor would just lie down to sleep as their spirit left them, but as they rebelled, death became a matter of pain and not of choice. But the last heir of Númenor would have the grace of being able to choose the time of his passing. In my eyes, too soon, for this was a parting beyond words.
I protested,
"Would you then, lord, before your time forsake the people who live by your word?" They might have lived by his words, I lived for them.
He answered,
"Not before my time. For if I will not go now, I must soon go by force. Eldarion is a man full-ripe for kingship." I could see the sense in his words, but still grief overcame me.
He went down to the Silent Street into the House of Kings where he lay down onto the prepared bed. He farewelled Eldarion, charging him to rule wisely and gave him the winged crown of Gondor and the sceptre of Arnor. Then everyone except me left him, and I stood alone.
Despite all my lineage and wisdom, I could not bear to have him leave me. I was not yet weary of the world and I pleaded with him to stay yet a while. He tried to console me with what he could.
"Lady Undómiel, the hour is indeed hard, yet it was made even on the day when we met under the white birches of Rivendell where none now walk. And on the hill of Cerin Amroth where we forsook both the Shadow and the Twilight this doom we accepted. Take counsel of yourself, beloved, and ask whether you would have me wait until I wither and fall from my throne unmanned and witless. Nay, lady, I am the last of the Númenoreans and the latest King of the Elder days; and to me has been given not only a span three times that of Men of Middle-earth but also the grace to go at my will and give back the gift. Now therefore, I will sleep." I could not help the tears running down my face.
"I speak no comfort to you, for there is no comfort for such pain within the circles of this world. The choice is before you: to repent and go to the Havens and bear away into the West the memory of our days together that shall be there evergreen, but never more than a memory; or else to abide the Doom of Men."
"Nay my dear lord," I answered him, "that choice is long over. There is now no ship that will bear me hence, and I must indeed abide the Doom of Men, whether I will or not: the loss and the silence. But I say to you King of the Númenoreans, not until now have I understood the tale of your people and their fall. As wicked fools I scorned them, but I pity them at last. For if this is indeed, as the Eldar say, the gift of the One to Men, it is bitter to receive."
"So it seems. But let us not be overthrown at the final test, whom of old renounced the Shadow and the Ring. In sorrow we must go, but not in despair. Behold! We are not bound forever to the circles of the world, and beyond them is more than memory. Farewell!" No, do not go!
"Estel, Estel!" I cried out, but even as he took my hand and laid one last kiss on it, he fell into what seemed like sleep. I saw his eyelashes flutter one last time, until darkness split that last mutual gaze. I saw his face soften, until the years toil left his face, and I saw the young man whom I had met singing under the trees of my home. But his face had the valour of his manhood, the wisdom of his age and the grace of his youth. Long there he laid, an image of the splendour of the Kings of Men in glory undimmed before the breaking of the world.
But I felt darkness and despair overtake me, and I stood in silent vigil for many days. All light faded from my world and life no longer seemed to be worth living. My son and daughters all tried to comfort me, but I no longer had any hope left in my world.
I left the city, farewelling those I love and I passed away to the land of the dream flower, where we confessed our love and pledged our hearts.
For a lonely year, I have walked under the fading trees of Lothlórien, as my father foretold, bound to my grief. Celeborn and my brothers left long ago. There are now few elves in this part of the world. I have lingered on in darkness and doubt. But I know that I will not be bound to this world. It is only now that I know the true pain of mortal life. Before, I believed mortals were fortunate to be able to leave this world, so that the slow pain of unending years never touches them. But now I think differently. Now I know how they feel. To be separated from those you love, to have them torn away from you by death. No other pain can be compared to it. I now know the anguish of Lúthien, my great great-grandmother, her despair and her grief. To love a mortal, to give up your life, to lose everything. And I also know that I had a choice, as she did. I know there may still be some ship waiting at the Havens. I have no doubt that if I wait a while, I will be able to sail into the west with my brothers and Celeborn. But I cannot bear the thought of leaving this world for which so many have suffered for and only having a memory of what had happened between us. Besides, I am mortal and can never travel the straight way into the True West.
Here, I lay myself on Cerin Amroth, the place where the Dúnadan and I pledged ourselves to each other. The elanor and nephredil are thick, though winter has covered the world. Who knows if when Spring should come, they will bloom again?
Though the worlds are broken and separated, I know I am close to my beloved Aragorn. For I am mortal, and I too will go to Mandos. We will not be separated again, even in death. Beyond the circles of the world, we will be reunited.
To the world that I love, though the days darken and the shadows grow ever longer, I say only this,
Estel…hope……The End…
A/N. Please review and help me improve.
The Tale of Aragorn and Arwen is a beautiful story and I have tried my best to write Arwen's side of it. So don't blame me for using what Tolkien actually wrote, I am just trying to be realistic and faithful to the story. I only combined the story and book to add more emotional depth and so please do not make any comments about that. But if you think I have screwed up really badly, feel free to comment constructively.