Disclaimer: I still do not own any of the Lotr characters and they are still property of Tolkien.

Note: this is from Appendix [A]: the tale of Aragorn and Arwen, but I changed some of it, and it does not include the dialogue.


- Passing -

-Arwen's PoV-

I knew not how much time had passed, nor really cared. It could have been days and I would not have noticed. Neither did I feel his body turning cold, as the last of his inner heat left him, as his soul passed beyond the world. I did not feel my tears soaking and staining the immaculate white linen of the deathbed, or acknowledge the fact that my tears had since dried up. Neither did I see the new day arriving, with the waning moon slowly disappearing behind the horizon, and the waxing sun taking over in her shining glory. I did not feel the presence of my children joining me, weeping, together, in their grief. My body was numb, numb with pain, numb with grief and sorrow that I had never known before.

He was gone.

That was all my mind could comprehend through the silent screams of denial and confusion. He had gone beyond my reach. And I will never see him again in this lifetime. The grief that it churned up almost tore me apart from the inside.

I knew I had to carry on. I had too. But I could not. Could not bear to leave his side, could not bear to go on and try to start life again. Could not bear to throw away this life I had led for more than six score years. No, I simply could not.

Nothing could bring him back to me. Nothing. Not even my cries, or endless pleadings or tears, none of them. At the end, all that was left of him were bones, a body, and a stone effigy of him. Nothing more. Nothing else to mark the life of one who had made me learn to embrace life, to start knowing how to love, to remember the joy and the laughter, of one who touched my life.

Before he had arrived, I was but a ghost. An empty shell roaming upon the earth, without soul nor aim. And now, I was back to being that.

I faintly remembered being helped out of the House of Kings by Eldarion, against my will. He was weeping too, and tried his best to comfort me despite it. But there was no comfort around that could ever ease the pain of his passing.

The world had too, changed along with his passing. No longer was it filled with color, with happiness and with joy, but instead, it was a depressing mess of black and white, devoid of emotions whatsoever. He had left her, and along with him, all semblance of happiness and laughter.

The next few days passed with a blur. I could but barely remember what happened. Estel's funeral was held a day after he passed, and the whole city mourned. The long, solemn procession was grand -as befitting a King like him- and it wound from the seventh circle to the first circle of the city and back up again. I had refrained from joining the procession, but instead, was contented to stay in my room. The grief was still too near, and it was difficult to encounter so many Gondorians who wanted to know how the Queen was faring.

There were many nights when I woke up, scared and alone, in our marriage bed. I had automatically reached out to my side for him, for some comfort, but it was always empty and cold. His presence had gone from the sheets, and he was not there anymore. I tried to fool myself countless times that he was gone for battle, and would soon return. But reality would also seep through and stay, shattering that fragile illusion I had made up to cease my sadness. The newly healed wound in my heart would open again, and the pain would start all over, enclosing me in its intensity. The memories would come forth, like a flooding river held in check for far too long, till I could no longer take it.

I had to leave Minas Tirith. To renounce the city that had been the only home I ever knew all my married life with him. Everywhere -the streets, the sidewalks, the numerous shops- all held memories of him within their cold stone. I had to get away from the memories, memories that threaten to overwhelm and engulf me, that torture and torment my very sanity with every passing moment in the city.

It was the midday when I left a letter in Eldarion's room and left the White City, but no one noticed my absence. My children were all busy with their own lives, and Eldarion had to govern the kingdom. No one would notice till the night, when I did not turn up for dinner, but by then I would be long gone.

As I rode away on my steed, I looked back one last time at the City. It was splendid in its glory. The midday sun glimmered off the polished stone, and made Anduin sparkle like a thousand crystals. The mithril-wrought stars blinded under the light, and the banner -hung from the tower of Ecthelion that stood tall and proud against the sky- flapped in the open breeze. I would never go within its walls again. I turned my gaze back towards the road I was to take, to fading Lothlorien -once home to the elves that have long departed over the sea- where I will live out the rest of my fading life.

Our time together had been brief; far too brief to enjoy much of it. Those years had been a dream, a wonderful dream that I wished would never end, that I never wanted to wake up from. All I had wanted was to stay in its sweet embrace forever; blissfully unaware of anything else. But with his passing the dream had been shattered and retreated, like it never was. The darkness had come over me again, thicker, and denser, for I had known life.

And I had known love.


I will be forever grateful if you could just submit a review... :P

Malethwen: My sincerest apologies for your wasted box of tissues, but thanks for reviewing!