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The Last Elf to Grieve

It is for this precise reason, that I was reluctant to befriend Aragorn son of Arathorn, Estel, Elessar.

I knew that this day would come, yet I denied it. I have been denying it for so long now, unable to accept that a day would come when I would still be here, and he would be elsewhere. It is a cruel fate, to be the one left behind. I would rather be the one to have departed Middle Earth. And yet I cannot bring myself to wish this grief upon my friend

I knew this day would come, that day when I would hold Arwen's hand one last time, and watch as she left Minas Tirith for Lothlorien, to end her mortal Elf life. I cannot deny that I envy her. She can rest knowing she will be with Estel soon. That they will embark upon whatever journey follows death together.

Me? I am alone.

I have Gimli for company, but I have no Elves. For now that Arwen's presence is no longer in Middle Earth, I am truly, the last Elf.

It's rather lonely.

Having made myself watch as Estel was laid to rest, I set off for Imladris, not knowing what to do, or what to expect. With no-one to visit in so long, it has overgrown. Yet I am sure that, before the death of Estel, the flowers would still have bloomed. As it was, they were withered, much like my soul.

For two thousand years I was alone, never settling with a mate. And abruptly this man became my new friend, my best friend and I had a brother at last.

And now my brother is gone.

It is for this reason the first thought in my head that fateful day when Estel was but seventeen years old, was 'this can only end badly'. I should have listened to my head and not my heart that day. For now my heart can tell me no more, for it is cleaved in two by the blunt axe that is the death of Estel.

I do not regret my memories, and yet I do. There are too many to think of at once, but then again, I am an Elf…I have all the time in world.

There was a point when I was glad I had the power to watch all the ages of Arda go by. Now there is nothing but a vast emptiness that had once been the world. Were I selfless, I would stay, despite my pain, and counsel Eldarion as he has requested.

But I cannot.

For so long I ignored the yearning in my heart, that pulled me towards the sea. Those bright shores, so welcoming, I did not approach them out of my desire to stay with my brother.

But my brother did not stay with me.

I do not cry, Estel forbade me. Then again, he forbade me to mourn and yet here I am, knees on the docks of the Grey Havens, a hole in my chest that refuses to close up. The ship I have built is not the greatest work of art. But it will withstand any weather; it does not need fancy ornaments.

In that way it is much like Estel himself. For that reason, I fear I shall have to name it Estel. I think I shall, a last tribute that the King would call unnecessary and I would call the most important part of the entire structure.

Do I even have the strength to leave? Can I let go of everything I hold dear, all those beloved things?

Yes.

Each one has a piece of Estel in them, I cannot stay. What to do?

Gimli is beckoning, I know he is hasty to leave, he deals with grief by moving, by not thinking of it. Could I do that? Could I forget?

No.

The stars are bright in the sky, yet I notice the Evenstar has dimmed. A last acknowledgement. They are happy, would they wish this grief upon me? Would he condemn me to this half life?

I must go. I shall go. For him, though it will be a long time before I can think of him without burning eyes. But I shall not forget, because he is with me, in my heart.

How very like him to cling on after death. I can practically hear him laugh at the joke of it all. He speaks of his leaving in his last days, and yet here he still is, over a week after his departure.

Goodbye brother, the last Elf bids you farewell.

I shall not see you again, but for in dreams.