Title: The End Has Come

Author: B-witched83uk )

Rating: R

Warning: Character death. Prepare yourselves for this one, if you thought Ithiliwen's was bad, you aint seen nothing yet.

Summary: The royal family of Gondor have their final adventure together.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Lord of the Rings. The whole of Middle-earth belongs to Tolkien

Beta: The Last Evenstar, a great friend and a great editor.

Archive: , Any others please ask.

Feedback: I would absolutely love some because yes I am a praise junky.

A/N: Part of this text was taken from J.R.R.Tolkien's The Tale of Aragorn and Arwen. I added my own bits to fit in with my story and my characters.

Chapter 16

Perhaps it was his age that caused him to constantly look back on his life, perhaps it was his impending death which he knew he could not escape. He liked to think it was because he had so many fond memories, so much love and happiness in his life. He looked back on his life often, but always with love, never regret. Since the day he had taken Arwen as his wife, he had never for a single day felt unloved.

Eldarion sat silently, waiting for his father to speak He was reminded of the many other talks they had shared, some a little too uncomfortable for his liking. Marital advice is not something that should be shared between father and son.

Eldarion smiled as he remembered a day he had spent with his father in Rohan. He had been a lad of fourteen, unsure of his part in the world.

Aragorn had sat him down on the grass and talked to him until he felt confident and certain once more. Aragorn had a certain voice, a voice that could sooth any worries you may have, a voice that could convince you of your worth. He had shown his son the Ring of Barahir, and Andúril, and told him that one day they would be his, along with the throne of Gondor.

"You will take my place as King of Gondor. It is a long way off, but it is time you accepted your fate. I spent most of my life running from the throne. I would hate for you to ever feel the same as I did."

Father and son sat down on the grass. Aragorn placed an arm around his son's shoulders and hugged him to his side. "What I finally realised was that I could run forever and yet never run far enough. Being King is not wearing a crown or giving orders, it is about giving your people hope. To be a King is to bear great responsibility. Not in strength or knowledge, in the end those things are not important. What is important is that you rule with your heart. That is something you can not learn or be trained in, it is inside of you. Every day, every choice we make, will lead us to where we are supposed to be."

Eldarion looked up at his father with so much pride that Aragorn knew in his heart that Eldarion would make a fine King. When Eldarion's eyes fell to the ground, Aragorn tousled the dark hair on his head. "What troubles you?"

"I want to become a good man, like you. But what if I do not always make the right decisions? What if I fail and let our people down?"

Aragorn rested his chin on his hand and looked sideways at his son. "As long as you make the choice with the best intentions. Right and wrong, good and evil. We are not rewarded for choosing well every time. To be a good man through and through is its own reward. Everything that will happen in your life, my son, will happen for a reason. Every time you are tested, every time you are pushed to your limits, you learn a new lesson about yourself. What doesn't kill us can only make us stronger."

Eldarion smiled and nodded. "And I have a great teacher to learn from."

Eldarion turned to look at his father, expecting another of their talks; instead, all he got was a loving smile. "I think we have said all there is to be said." His grey eyes twinkled at his son.

Eldarion felt a knot form in his throat, a knot he couldn't seem to swallow. He looked seriously at his father, and saw the smile leave his face. Taking Aragorn's hand in his own, Eldarion took a deep breath, knowing there was one last thing that needed to be said. "I love you, Ada."

And so came the passing of King Aragorn Elessar, the great saviour of their time. Thousands of years ago, death was known as the gift of men. As Arwen sat beside her true love's deathbed, she thought it a very bitter gift to receive, for long had she seen it coming, yet nothing could have prepared her for their final farewell.

Aragorn had laid himself down in the House of the Kings in the Silent Street, in the peaceful knowledge that he had lived longer then most, and seen more then most. He could now die, knowing that his life had purpose. Not only had he saved a failing Kingdom, or fought against the armies of the enemy, but he had been loved, he had been loved so wholly. He was not bitter, nor distressed that the time of his passing had come, he was simply grateful for the time that he had.

Time would continue to move, seasons would come and go, a time would come when none remembered him, nor the good that he had done. But none of the mattered, for the love that he had shared with Arwen Undómiel was something beyond this world, something eternally good and pure.

"At last, Lady Evenstar, fairest in this world, and most beloved, my world is fading. Lo! we have gathered, and we have spent, and now the time of payment draws near." Aragorn's breathing was coming harder, more forced.

Arwen knew well what he intended, and had long foreseen it; nonetheless, she was overborne by her grief. "Would you then, lord, before your time leave your people that live by your word?" she said, allowing the tears to fall without shame or hope.

"Not before my time," he answered. "For if I will not go now, then I must soon go perforce. And Eldarion our son is a man full-ripe for kingship." Aragorn let his failing eyes wonder over to his heir, his only son. So much grief Eldarion had known these past years, Aragorn could no longer look at the pain in his red and swollen eyes.

He turned to look at his eldest daughter, Galadwen, and held out his hand for her to take. She wiped her eyes on the back of her hand before clasping to her father like a life-line. "So like your mother, so fair and true of heart."

Galadwen brought his hand to her mouth and kissed him sweetly, closing her eyes as if to shut out the pain.

"You must promise me something, sell nín." His voice was no more then a whisper.

"Anything, Ada. Anything you ask of me, I shall promise."

Aragorn smiled gently, lifting a hand to stroke her hair behind her delicately pointed ear. "Promise me you and Legolas will go to Valinor, and live out the rest of your lives together, in peace." He looked over to Legolas, who stood silently in the corner of the room, his face as stern as stone, refusing to let all the emotions that he felt show on his face.

"I promise, Ada. I promise." Galadwen choked back a sob and let go of his cold hand. Aragorn's eyes met Legolas' and they locked. Slowly the Elf made his way to his friend's bedside and took the aged hand in his. Aragorn smiled weakly and squeezed the trembling hand.

"Hannon lle, for everything," Aragorn whispered, knowing those simple words were enough.

"Nasî dh Aran níngwador nín." Legolas brought Aragorn's hand to his mouth and placed a chaste kiss on his knuckles. "Mellon nín."

Be at peace my king…my brother. My friend.

One by one, Aragorn kissed each of his children, and his grandchildren, and all those who were dear to him. The children of Aragorn and Arwen shook with grief as their father asked them to leave him alone with Arwen, leaving them with his final words to them.

"Life is for living, not for thinking about living or planning to live. Make the most of each moment and never let fear rule your heart. I could not be prouder of my family, or the people that you have all become. I have loved you and shall continue to do so after death, for death is only the beginning. It is only one more stage of the journey."

Then all left him except for Arwen and Eldarion, who knelt before his father's bed, the light of his eyes no more then a faint flicker. There Aragorn said farewell to Eldarion, and gave into his hands the winged crown of Gondor and the sceptre of Arnor. "You will make a fine King."

"I learned from the best." He kissed his father's brow, wishing he could follow him to death, wishing to be safe with his father and Ithiliwen, but he knew that his country needed him, now more then ever.

Eldarion's eyes regained their shine for a briefest of moments when Aragorn handed to him his sword.

"Never forget that to be a good King is to be a good man, and that you are. I give to you Andúril, may she always remind you that you are my son, that you are strong of heart and that your father loved you."

Once Eldarion had left his father, tears and pain and agony tearing him inside, Arwen came to stand alone by his bed. And for all her wisdom and lineage she could not forbear to plead with him to stay yet for a while. She was not yet weary of her days, and thus she tasted the bitterness of the mortality that she had taken upon her.

"Arwen," said Aragorn, unable to think of any words to ease her grieving heart. "The hour is indeed hard, yet it was made even in that day when we met under the white birches in the garden of Elrond where none now walk. And on the hill of Cerin Amroth when we forsook both the Shadow and the Twilight this doom was accepted. Take counsel with yourself, meleth, and ask whether you would have me wait until I wither and fall from my high seat unmanned and witless. Nay, Arwen, I am the last of the Númenóreans and the latest King of the Elder days, and to me has been given not only a span thrice 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."

He brought her hand to rest over his heart, which still beat strong for her. "I speak no comfort to you, for there is no comfort for such pain within the circles of the world. The uttermost choice is before you: to repent and go to the Havens with Galadwen and bear away into the West the memory of our days together that shall there be evergreen but never more than a memory; or else to abide the Doom of Men."

Arwen shook her head gently, letting her tears fall on to him, grasping his hand so tightly it might break. "No, meleth nín," she said softly. "That choice is long over. There is no ship that would bear me hence, and I must indeed abide the Doom of Men, whether I will or I not: the loss and the silence. Yet 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."

Aragorn closed his eyes, unable to look in to her deep pools of despair any longer. He leaned up slightly and took her lips in what was to be the their final kiss. Softly his cold lips moved against hers, the taste of her salt tears the last taste he would ever know.

"We are not bound for ever to the circles of this world, and beyond them is more than memory. We shall met again, of this I am certain. Farewell, meleth nín. Be strong, and be brave, and know that I will always love you."

"Estel, Estel!" she cried, and with that even as he took her hand and kissed it, he fell into sleep. Then a great beauty was revealed in him, so that all who after came there looked on him in wonder; for they saw that the grace of his youth, and the valour of his manhood, and the wisdom and majesty of his age were blended together. And long there he lay, an image of the splendour of the Kings of Men in glory undimmed before the breaking of the world.

Then Arwen went forth from the House, and the light of her eyes was quenched, and it seemed to her people that she had become cold and grey as nightfall in winter that comes without a star.

TBC

The reason I am not replying to reviews again is because I literally didn't know what to say to you all individually. You all more or less said the same thing about the last chapter. I'm glad you all liked it and I agree it would have been kind of confusing if you haven't read my other fics. Again, I am not going to tell you what happens next, you will just have to wait and see. I'm sorry for killing Aragorn, but it wasn't really me, it was Tolkien, and at least he died of old age and not from what ever Galadwen has.

Big smooches to you all, I promise to reply individually next time.