Aragorn pressed the Evenstar into Arwen's pale hand, fighting with everything in himself not to cry. He must do this. He looked upon her, and her beauty amidst her grief, it seemed, strove to break his heart. He could not let her fade, loveliest of her people, for a mortal.

Those who were not born to die.

"It was a dream, Arwen. Nothing more." he spoke, voice little more then a whisper. Their tale, one not unlike another, written long ago. But he was not Beren, and she not Luthien, and the days of those tales had long been naught but stories of grief in the Elven houses. For with sorrow do they remember her, Tinuviel, fairest that ever lived among the children of Iluvatar.

"This belongs to you." He lowered his gaze, and they both knew the true meaning of his words. Arwen placed it back in his palm, folding his fingers over it and holding them with her own pale hands, sorrowful and yet determined.

"It was a gift." Tears formed in her deep eyes as she begged silently, "keep it."

He took it and did the clasp, letting it fall around his neck. A single tear threaded its way down Arwen's cheek.

You are not bound to loss and silence.

He reached out and cupped her face, brushing the tear away with his thumb, though it was quickly joined by more.

For you are not bound to the circles of this world

Arwen bowed her head, burying her face in his hands, wetting them with her tears.

All things must pass away

Aragorn gently pulled her into his arms, holding her close for what he knew would be the last time. He remembered the pain in Elrond's eyes. Fear, also. Fear of losing his only daughter as he had lost his brother.

All life is doomed to fade.

Arwen pulled away and looked him in the eye, pain written across her face. She buried her face in his shoulder, staying there. Aragorn sighed heavily, so much weight hung upon his shoulders. His mind drifted off, wandering through memory and thought.

Sorrowing you must go

Something soft pressed to his lips drew him back to reality and Arwen pulled away, fingering the Evenstar that hung around his neck. "Melithan le, Aragorn," she leaned over to whisper in his ear, "An-ui." I will love you, forever.

But not without hope.

Aragorn gently kissed her forehead, "Farewell, Undomiel." He withdrew from her arms, bowing gracefully.

Arwen reached over and toyed with the white gem on last time, running it over the chain absentmindedly. Her eyes met Aragorn's. "May the grace of the Valar protect you," she said, slowly pulling her hand back, letting it fall numbly to her side, "Namaer."

She watched as he walked away, features set, hardened, sensing the struggle within. She brushed her tears away. She would see him again, she promised herself. There was always hope.