Title comes from the Song of Eärendil.

There was gray in Arwen's hair now, gray that had never been there before and did not belong in the hair of any elf. But Arwen was not exactly an elf anymore, and time took its toll on her, just as it took its toll on her husband.

Her smile, though, was still the same, if with a few more lines. "Legolas," she said, reaching out for his hands. She spoke his name in a way that very few people in Middle Earth did, with a certain lilt to it that immediately betrayed her as being from Imladris. Few elves remained in Middle Earth who spoke his name like that.

"Arwen," he greeted, taking her hands in his own. "You are well, I hope? And Aragorn?"

"We are both well," Arwen agreed, leading Legolas to the table. "And you? How is life in Ithilien?"

Legolas offered her a small smile. "I am well."

But Arwen could read him as well now as ever, and her own smile faded slightly with concern. "How is Gimli?"

And that was both the question Legolas had come to Arwen to speak of and the one he dreaded the most. "He is… well enough," Legolas said haltingly. "But despite the long lives of the dwarves, they are still mortal, and time still comes for him."

"Oh, Legolas."

"I wish, sometimes, that the choice to become mortal were offered to all elves, not merely the Peredhil," Legolas admitted. "Would that I could make the choice you did."

"I did not make my choice lightly," Arwen replied, her voice on the edge of snappish. "I will never see my father again, and if my brothers sail, I will lose them as well. I will never travel to the land of our people. I will diminish. One day, I will die, and that will be the end."

"My apologies," Legolas murmured. "I did not mean to belittle your choice."

Arwen sighed deeply. "No, Legolas, I am the one who ought to apologize. I know you are aware that the choice is not a light one, and if you were able to make it, I know you would not make it lightly either. Forgive me. There are those among the Men who do not understand, and I have grown too used to their questions."

"I know the choice is not one you made lightly, and were I able to make it, I still do not know what I would decide, despite thinking on it for years. But now, watching Gimli age and knowing I will not age with him…" Legolas shook his head. "Dwarves live for a quarter of a millennia. At most, they may last a century longer. And yet, to our kind, what is that but a blink of an eye?"

"There is pain in loving things that are touched by death," Arwen murmured. "A pain that remains even if you are touched by it as well. There is a cost to loving a mortal."

"If it were any other cost, I would pay it, but this, I have no means to pay. Am I merely to sail to Valinor after he is gone, to live forever without him? Am I to remain here and fade away? Am I to end my life on my own terms rather than live it alone? I would do none of them, Arwen, but I can think of no other choices."

Arwen took Legolas's hands in both of hers and gave them a gentle squeeze, her face sorrowful and sympathetic. They had discussed this many times before, years ago, back when the Shadow had not yet been banished and Legolas had never met Gimli. They'd spoken of their shared love for Aragorn instead, and although Legolas had never loved him in the same way that Arwen did, he had still mourned for a day that he knew would eventually come to pass. But that was before Arwen had made the choice of Lúthien, before she had become mortal herself, and now Arwen was simply one more person that Legolas would eventually have to lose.

"Listen to me," Arwen said softly, looking Legolas in the eye. "Does Gimli yet live?"

"Yes," Legolas admitted, "although-"

"And does he still have his health?" Arwen interrupted.

"Some of it, though less than before."

"Then you may be happy with him for years yet," Arwen said. "You need not feel the future's sorrow so early, Legolas. He has fewer days left than you, so it is all the more important that you enjoy them."

Legolas closed his eyes. "I hear your wisdom, and yet…"

"And yet your heart still aches?" Arwen asked. "I know, Legolas. But this is what it means to love a mortal."

"And when he is gone?"

"When he is gone," Arwen said gently, "you will sail West, and you will return to our kin. You will never forget him, for you know that our kind loves but once, but you will have your friends and family there, and you will not be alone. And when they ask you of Middle Earth, when they ask you why it took you so long to join them in Valinor, you will tell them of Gimli, and his courage, and his kindness, and his love. You will keep his memory alive, and that way he will never truly leave your heart."

"Would that he would never leave me at all," Legolas murmured, then he shook himself. "No, Arwen, I apologize. You are trying to help, and your advice is sound, but I refuse to hear it."

"Even the most sound advice may do little to soothe an aching heart," Arwen said. "I take no offense, Legolas. I only hope that my words may do something to ease your pain."

"They do ease it," Legolas said, "for even if there is no solution to my quandary, at least I know I have a true and kind friend who wishes to see my heart soar."

"Always, mellon nîn."

"Let us speak of something else," Legolas declared. "Let us speak of something that will bring us joy. How are your children?"

Arwen smiled. "They are well. Will you see them, while you are here? I'm certain they would be thrilled to see you again."

"Of course," Legolas agreed. "I would not travel all this way only to miss them. You know I love your children as if they were my own kin."

"They may as well be," Arwen said. "You are as a beloved brother to both myself and Aragorn. The children already view you much as an uncle, as they view Elladan and Elrohir."

"They may call me such, if they wish," Legolas said. "I would gladly answer to it." He hesitated, then added, "And how is Aragorn?"

If he could see Arwen aged, if he could live with Gimli and watch Death's icy fingers creep closer every day, then he could also ask about Aragorn. He had always known he would lose him.

"He is well," Arwen replied. "He will negotiate with Rohan in the coming weeks, although he has little desire to do so. He complains about it often."

"Éomer is not so bad as that," Legolas countered.

"No, but Aragorn still has no love for formal negotiations, no matter how many times he must oversee them. Perhaps someday, he will learn not to dread them so, but that day has not yet come. But Faramir and Éowyn will also visit, and I know Aragorn will be happy to see them."

"And will Éomer bring his wife and children, or will they remain in Edoras?"

"I believe his wife will rule Edoras in his stead, while he is here," Arwen replied. "But Faramir and Éowyn will bring their son."

"Perhaps I will visit again, then, to see them all here," Legolas said. "I may bring Gimli with me, if he desires."

"We would be happy to see you and host you both," Arwen replied. "Aragorn will be especially pleased. He will try to turn the negotiations from something formal into a gathering of old friends."

"And will he succeed?"

"I would think so, for who would not wish for such a gathering?"

"If only we could bring the hobbits as well," Legolas said unthinkingly, and then a pang went through him as he remembered that Frodo had already sailed to Valinor. His friends would never see him again, and Legolas did not know if he would either; mortals would presumably remain mortal in Valinor, and there was every chance that Frodo would die there before Legolas sailed himself, if he did sail at all.

"And now you have fallen to sorrow once more," Arwen said softly. "We miss Frodo as well."

"I hope he is well and happy in Valinor," Legolas said. "I hope he is not too lonely, being one of the only mortals there."

"It is incredible that he is even allowed there, mortal as he is," Arwen said. "But even the Valar may make exceptions from time to time."

A thought sparked in the back of Legolas's mind, and although he tried to shove it away, it would not quiet. "They do," he murmured. "Arwen, is there somewhere I may wash myself before seeing Aragorn and the children? I have traveled long to visit, and I would refresh myself before seeing them."

"Of course," Arwen agreed. "I apologize for not letting you refresh yourself earlier."

"You need not apologize, for I did not ask," Legolas replied. "But I feel I ought not enter the home of a king without washing myself."

Arwen rolled her eyes. "You know as well as I that Aragorn would not care, especially when he is not always the cleanliest himself. But of course, you may wash yourself. If you wish, you may use your usual chambers. We keep them ready for your visits. How long do you intend to stay?"

"A few days at most, I think," Legolas replied, for an itch now urged him to turn back for home. "If my usual chambers are available, I would gladly use them."

"They are always available for you," Arwen said. She stood and moved to stand next to Legolas, then she kissed the top of his head before he could stand as well. She had always been older than him, but now she looked it when she never had before. Previously, they had looked to be of an age. Now, an ungenerous viewer might think her old enough to be his mother.

"We are glad to have you here, Legolas," she murmured. "And you are always welcome. Aragorn and I will always be here for you."

Legolas leaned into Arwen's side for a moment, then he stood and offered her a small smile. "I know, Arwen. Thank you."

"You are family," she told him with a smile of her own. "Now come, let us clean you up. I will tell Aragorn and the children of your arrival."

Legolas nodded and took the familiar route to the chambers he always used when he stayed in Minas Tirith, his mind beginning to whir. His idea was mad, he knew, and unlikely to work, but the Valar did make their exceptions on occasion, and perhaps this could be one of them. Perhaps, perhaps…

Well, Legolas thought, first he would have to build a ship. He was no master shipwright, but he would learn and try until he could make something seaworthy. He could speak with Círdan, perhaps; he knew the old shipwright was still making ships for the elves who wished to sail to Valinor, but for Legolas's own ship, he thought he would need to make it himself. The elven ships were for elves, and with what Legolas had planned…

Well, the Valar had made an exception for Frodo and Bilbo. Legolas did not know, but he could but hope - but dream - that they may make an exception for Gimli too. He was an elf-friend, he was dear to Legolas, he was beloved enough by the Lady Galadriel that she bestowed upon him three strands of her hair. If any other mortal may have a place among the elves…

And if the Valar made no exception, if they sent Gimli away, then Legolas would sail away with him. Together, they would sail the seas, or they would find some new place to land, or they would return to Middle Earth and live out the rest of Gimli's days there. If Gimli was refused a place in Valinor, then Legolas was no worse off; if he was accepted, then perhaps the Undying Lands would prolong his life, even if they could not erase his mortality. Someday, Legolas would lose Gimli, he knew that. If he could push that day further, though, he would. If he could spend any extra moments in a world where Gimli yet lived, he would spend them.

He didn't know if this would work. He didn't know if it made sense to have any hope at all. But he would try, and perhaps, if the Valar smiled on him, he would succeed.

First things first, though, he had to find out how to build a ship.