Disclaimer : I somehow always forget these... :( Unfortunately, I do not own the Lord of the Rings. Neither Aragorn nor Arwen is mine. This disclaimer applies to all current, previous, and future chapters of this story. :D

Aragorn

'It is nigh impossible, a love with no regrets... but, my love, I would never have had it any other way.'

It was a beautiful day.

The flowers bloomed in every colour imaginable, red and gold and orange and purple and indigo blue, and the air was laden with their sweet, heady scent. The sky was clear and blue, and a single white cloud drifted lazily across the sun.

A good day, thought Aragorn absently. He felt strangely alert, though greatly weakened, and the late spring breeze was cool upon his skin. A good day for farewells, a good day for my last journey on these shores.

He had already seen to everything he had to do.

There had been a constant trickle of guests, old friends and casual acquaintances and loyal subjects alike, and Aragorn had said his farewells – some harder than others, but farewell nonetheless. He had handed Eldarion his scepter, his eldest and dearest so much like him; had passed on last words of wisdom and left the Kingdom in his care. He had wandered the streets of the White City, not Elessar the King but Strider the Ranger once more, watching, wandering, remembering days long gone by.

And now he lay upon his deathbed, bracing himself for the last farewell of all. Life is a strange thing, he mused, a wry smile playing about his lips and lighting his eyes with a hint of irony. For even love does not come without a price.

"My love has sealed your fate," he said, his trembling hand reaching out to grasp that of his Queen. "In loving you I have doomed you to death."

Arwen leaned over then. Dark hair spilled over her shoulders, tickling the edges of his face, and clear grey eyes the colour of twilight bored into his.

"Do you regret our love?" she asked, her voice low and sweet. Aragorn closed his eyes, and thought.

He remembered the moment he had first set his eyes upon her. A golden mist draped heavily upon the silver-gold boughs of Lothlorien, bathing everyting in a strange, golden glow, as if he walked in a waking dream. Sunlight streaming through the trees, bright and clear and true, seeming to shine for her and for her alone. And the realization, like a slap of cold water upon his face – that his fate had been sealed, his heart given forever, and she would ever be dearest to his soul.

He remembered. Arwen under a starlit sky, glittering silver against indigo, shimmering, the sky so full with them they seemed to pour down upon his head. Arwen, Evenstar of her people, who in his eyes shined brighter than any star of the sky.

Laughters shared, tears shared, promise whispered to the wind. Waiting, aching, wandering, yearning, until finally a winged crown sat upon his head and he swept her into his arms with tears of joy. Their souls joined in glorious harmony, the great song of creation threading through their very being. A newborn Eldarion, face red from crying, and Arwen, hair plastered to her face with sweat, and yet somehow the most beautiful sight that he had ever seen.

Do I regret our love?

"Never," he said, and Arwen stroked his hand, pausing to caress the wrinkles in his old skin. Aragorn struggled to open his eyes, those treacherous eyelids that even now threatened to slide shut. "Do you?"

Arwen's grey eyes glittered, unreadable, unreachable, and a bittersweet smile graced her lips.

"I do." she said, her voice soft yet sure, and Aragorn's hand tightened against hers. "I do, sometimes – but it is nigh impossible, a love with no regrets. And, my love, I would never have had it any other way."

Aragorn smiled at that, but there was a lingering pain in his eyes. "Still I have chained you," he whispered. "I have chained you down, doomed you to the fate of death – you who could have been freer than the wind."

"Chained I am not. Before I had met you, chained I was; for I was tied to this world, bound to Arda until its end. But you have set me free. For in my love for you, I have embraced the gift of Men – and when you leave, I will follow you, and together we shall soar beyond the circles of this world."

Arwen's voice was firm, her eyes sure, and her soul sang of love, love so true that Aragorn could do nothing but laugh. His laughter rang out across the empty halls, clear and rich and full, and it was as if he were young once more.

"Then, my Queen," he cried, "we shall fly together. We shall soar like birds, and let the bards sing the tale of our love – for we were as Beren and Luthien, yet the end to our tale was much different. Let them rejoice, let them remember, that not all love of Elf and Man met a bitter end."

"That they will, my King. That they will. Ever more in the streets of the White City, the song of Elessar Telcontar and Arwen Undomiel shall be heard."

Aragorn turned, a mirthful spark lighting his eyes, and he grasped Arwen's hand again.

"Sing for me, my love. Sing for me one last time."

"Then close your eyes, Estel," Arwen murmured, smoothing out the sheets and laying a gentle hand upon his chest. Aragorn settled down into the covers, a whistling breath escaping his lips, and at long last his wearied limbs found rest.

As Aragorn drifted into sleep, Arwen raised her voice in joyful song, for it was not an end but a beginning, a promise of a journey to come; and together, they would soar, soar beyond the confines of this world, and be free forevermore.

So passed Elessar Telcontar, High King of Gondor and Arnor, Heir of Isildur, Chieftain of the Rangers of the North, son of Arathorn, beloved ruler, loyal friend, loving father - love and hope of Arwen Undomiel, Evenstar of her people.

'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 Kings of Men in glory undimmed before the breaking of the world.'

-The Lord of the Rings, Appendix A : The tale of Aragorn and Arwen-

Coming Up : Gandalf

'So tell me! What does it take to steal the kiss of an old man?'

A/N : As always, thank you to all who have read, reviewed, favorited, and/or followed my stories! It makes me so happy that someone out there is reading my work. While browsing through the internet, I have come to realize that this story does take some liberties with canon... unfortunately, it has been a long time since I watched the movies, and I am still working on the book, so please bear with me. :)

Reviews and Constructive Criticism is all greatly appreciated - I would love to know what you think, and advice always helps.