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Aryon O Huine Child

Part One: Passes the King of the White City

"Aragorn! My king!" King Elessar grasped the slender hand that lay on his cheek and softly kissed it, and in doing so, drew his last breath. Crystalline tears formed in Arwen's grey eyes, as she gazed at the still face of her long-beloved. The queen of Gondor fell to her knees, resting her head on Aragorn's lifeless chest, her dark locks of hair scattered on his body. Anguished sobs shook through her, cries that came from the uttermost depths of her grief-stricken heart. Outside, a city mourned.

Eldarion watched his mother as she strode to him. Her dimming orbs flooded, their light shrouded by sorrow. Soft blush no more tinted her tear-stained cheeks; a smile no more graced her lips. Eldarion felt the pain severely when he looked upon her impassive face. He desired so deeply to embrace her, as he had so many times in the past, yet he found no strength to move. Arwen first broke the heavy silence.

"I must take my leave, son. There is no place for me now." She shakily let out, meeting his stare.

Eldarion was left dumbfounded for a moment before he could speak. "What do you mean?" He wondered, although knowing of the dreadful answer. "Where will you tread?"

"Lothlórien. That is where I shall go." She stated.

"But you can't leave!" Eldarion cried, his voice barely above a whisper, tears welling in his dark eyes. "We need you. Gondor needs you. You are queen!"

"Yes, I am queen. A queen without a king, a wife without a husband. All is stripped from within me," she then smiled. "You are much like your father. You will make a great king." Arwen set her aging palm on Eldarion's young face. "I love you, my son."

Part Two: Blessings

Had Arwen still a heart, it would have broken at the sight of her seven daughters. They all stood afore she, a mixture of sadness, fear, and incredulity etched on each of their fair and smooth complexions. Trails of wet glistened on their cheeks, yet disbelief of the queen's intent suppressed their weeping. They instead stared, trying to hold back emotions, while seeking comfort from their mother. Alas, Arwen's words were none soothing.

Arwen took a deep breath, summoning up the courage to announce her last farewell. "I wish there was another way, but..." she broke off, forlornly into the eyes of her children that she had long loved and cared for. "It is my time to part."

Sîdhriel's anguish turned to sudden anger. "You cannot ask this of us!" She stormed, a fire in her orbs. "How do you expect us to accept the fact that we are to slip grip of you both in the same day?"

Arwen's warm tears filled her eyes as she looked upon Sîdhriel's defiant face. She had never spoken with fear. Yet this time, it was due to fear that she spoke. Afore Arwen could reply, she continued on with rage: "Now is the hour that we need you the most, and even so, you would forsake your own birth! If you love us, why would you take this action?" The princess's voice wavered at her own question, the flame in her sight quenched. Sîdhriel's lips trembled as she turned away, bright tears streaming down.

"My beloved daughters! Never think that I should not love you. Yet I cannot thrive in a world without your father. There is not a place for me now; but a place for you."

"What will we do without you?" whispered Arinelen.

Ilyawen, who had remained silent, spoke. "The days ahead will be afflicted by sorrow, indeed. Yet we live on, nonetheless. As for the time to come to pass, we shall have each other, and that will be enough. We cannot dissuade mother from leaving, difficult as it may be to take in. I do not wish to make this grueling any more than it is. All we should do now is prepare for the departure." Ilyawen took a deep, calming breath that did little to stop her eyes from filling up with shining tears. Speech could not express the gratitude Arwen felt towards her eldest daughter, nor the love she felt for them all. Yet again, Ilyawen found the right words. "I love you, Mother."

Part Three: Leave-Taking

Eldarion, Ilyawen, Arinelen, and Sîdhriel stood outside Minas Tirith, a breeze waving their garments high. The wetness that scrolled down their faces shown bright as the last rays of sun reflected off. Arwen rested herself on Asfaloth, her pony from ages ago, gazing from afar at her children. She was clothed in white, and her dark hair fell about her shoulders like shadows upon the moon.

They had said their farewells, yet Arwen lingered, taking her last sight of them.

"Safe journey, Mother," Arinelen wished, her lips forming a numbing smile.

"And may your life unfold a journey." Arwen tightly hugged her daughter, taking in the warmth.

"Long will Gondor remember you, Naneth." Sîdhriel beamed wistfully. "I wish to see the Golden Wood, even while in its winter." Arwen smoothed away the dark strands that caressed her cheeks.

"I pray that you shall voyage to distant lands, as always you have desired, Sîdhriel." She placed a kiss on her brow before looking into the dark, shimmering orbs of her eldest, Ilyawen. She was the most grief-stricken of all, yet her tears did not fall. Arwen swiftly pulled her into an embrace, smelling the sweet scent of her colour-fading gown. "Your sisters seek for counsel, Ilyawen. Be strong for them; be strong for Eldarion. That is all I ask of you." Arwen whispered, as she tiredly rested her head on her shoulder. Arwen pulled away, and gave Ilyawen a hopeful glance, then turning to Eldarion, her only son. "You reign now. Make wise choices in guiding your people, my beloved son. Hold on to the memories leapt as of Ada and I, but do not dwell in the times that have passed."

"I shall never forget." He stood strong, his kingly eyes bright and young.

Arwen mounted her horse, raising a hand in one last goodbye, before turning her horse eastward, cantering away. For a time, her children stayed there, silent and unmoving, watching Arwen ride into the mountains until they could not discern her anymore; a faded star vanishing into the night.

Part Four: Lórien

The Evenstar tread through Caras Galadhon's withering woods, the sighing wind drifting amongst the tall trees, lamenting that which was spent. She came to Cerin Amroth and paused upon the hilltop, watching the silver stars blossom in the evening sky. Recollections of a day long ago: the day that she and Aragorn had joyfully pledged their troth to each other on this very same hill. Arwen sank to the ground, and wept, her tears soaking into the soil. She lay on the soft leaves, as images of her life filled her mind. So many beautiful memories. Arwen slowly closed her eyes. She saw her king stand afore, steady and smiling. His grey eyes shown as he looked down at her with love.

"Milyanyel," she whispered in three breaks.

Aragorn held out his hand, saying, "It is time." Arwen breathed deeply, breathed deeply her last. A last warm smile graced her lips.

THE END

Naneth - Mother

Milyanyel - I long for you

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