The thing that got him the most was the loneliness. He'd never expected to feel that way. He'd always been one who'd been content to be on the fringe of the group. He had friends, to be sure, the best friends anyone could ever wish for, but he'd been happiest when he was alone. He loved the times he could sneak off to sit under a tree and let his mind wander.

Now he was desperate. Desperate for a face to look on, a voice to speak to him. He just wanted to communicate with someone. In his dreams he was visited by his friends of old. They never spoke; they just looked at him with reproachful eyes. "Speak to me!" he would scream, but still they were silent. It had been different once. He knew what it was to have friends.

"You just run the rag up and down the bowstring, like so," he demonstrated what he was saying to the chubby toddler at his side. The little one just looked at him with huge grey eyes.

"Shiny?" the toddler asked.

"When we've done it right," he answered back solemnly.

"Me!" exclaimed the little genius.

"I'm not sure…" he began, but when he saw the trembling lower lip he handed over the rag. The baby clenched it in is chubby fist and imitated what he had seen done, rubbing the rag awkwardly over the taut bowstring. The elf flinched. It took all his willpower to keep from snatching his precious bow away and putting it somewhere safe, but the last thing he wanted was to make the baby cry. A low laugh from behind startled him. He turned to see the king and queen, who were amused at his predicament.

"He can be quite stubborn. He sets his mind to one thing and won't give it up," the queen told him.

"Which of the two human males are you referring to?" queried the elf, sharing a laugh with the queen at the king's expense.

The queen kissed her husband on the chin, then entered the room and scooped the baby into her arms. "Come on, Eldarion. It's time for you to sleep." The baby yawned hugely, but immediately protested, "No bed!" His mother only laughed at left the room with him in tow.

The king stood in the doorway and watched as the elf careful put away his bow. "Whatever possessed you to bring that out in Eldarion's presence?" he asked, knowing full well how important the bow was to the elf.

"I was trying to keep the princeling amused. He has the strangest habit of wanting to do more than listen to stories. I'm not sure where he gets his need for action," he smiled at his longtime friend.

The king assumed an air of innocence. "I have no idea what you mean." He pushed himself off of the doorway where he had been leaning and strode into the room. His friend was squatting on the floor, gathering up the wood chips he had been using to explain battle strategy. The king squatted down beside him, his hands resting lightly on his knees. For a while he only watched his friend, but at last he spoke, his voice low and strained. "You feel it, don't you? The sea cry of your kin." His grey eyes pierced the blue eyes of his friend, as if he could read the answer in them. It was disconcerting, and at last the elf looked away silently. "Arwen feels it," the king pressed on, "She doesn't tell me, of course. She loves me, loves our child, but still the sea cries to her," he broke off and bowed his head, breathing deeply. The elf reached out to put a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. When he was under control the king spoke again, "You have nothing to hold you here; the longing must be unbearable for you." Once again the piercing eyes.

The elf could not deny the longing, much as he may have wanted to, but the king was wrong about one thing, "Nothing to hold me except friendship. Friendship and vows made in the earnestness of heart." Vows he would not break. Friendships he was unwilling to end.

"Your true friends would release you from your vows," the king said. He was unwilling as well to lose a friend, but even more unwilling to make a friend suffer for his own comfort.

The elf smiled his slow dreamy smile, "And I would still hold myself to them." This was no longer a topic to be argued for him. He had made up his mind years ago, "When the last of my friends are gone, then I will go, too."

But this did not comfort the king. He had thought too long about this, "What if it is then too late? Perhaps the last ship will sail before the last of your friends are gone!"

"Then I will be left here," the elf answered calmly. He too had thought long about the possibility.

"Go now, my friend. I release you," the king said almost pleadingly, "I know the others would do the same."

"No, my friend. I will stay. I will watch over you and your family and the families of my other friends," he answered resolvedly. His mind was made up, and even his dearest friend could not convince him to break his vows. The king knew that. He could see the determination in the elf's eyes. He had, then, just one request.

"Promise me."

"What?"

"Promise me that when Arwen - " here the king's voice broke again, but he pressed on. "When Arwen goes you will go also."

"Where? Where will Arwen go?"

"When she leaves. When I am dead she will leave here. You go as well. Leave and go with her. Go to the sea. If you cannot find a boat to take you away then stay together by the sea. Go with her," the king pleaded. The look on his face was heartrending. It was the look of a man who has asked his only love to sacrifice herself for him, and is then unable to save her from herself.

The elf rose to his feet and walked to an open window. He knew that Aragorn still had doubts. The king still wondered if he had done the right thing by letting Arwen stay with him, instead of crossing over with the rest of her kin. The elf had wondered himself if he had done the right thing. He wasn't even sure if it was his place to stay anymore. He didn't know what purpose he had. The silence stretched out as he stared over the hills and plains to where the sea was calling to him. The bonds of loyalty that held him to his friends were not easily broken, but neither was the sea longing. "I wish I had never heard the gulls," he murmured to himself, but the king heard him anyway.

"What?" he asked, coming to stand at the elf's side.

"Nothing," answered the elf. He didn't want to add to his friend's heavy burden. In fact, he hoped that he could lighten it, "Very well, Aragorn. I will stay here until your wife leaves. When she goes I will go as well."

The king clasped his old friend on the shoulder, and together they turned to look at the sea that would someday tear them apart.

It was that sea that was now his only companion, and he found that it was not nearly enough.