To Send Far Away by Istalindir
To Send Far Away
by Istalindir
Date finished: 25 January 2003
Archive: Yes, just let me know where.
Disclaimer: They belong to Tolkien, not me. Nuts.
Rating: PG
Summary: Winter descends upon Arwen Undómiel, and she thinks of her husband.
Warnings: Character death.
Notes: Takes place well after Return of the King, and could be construed as a gigantic spoiler for RotK. Based on Aragorn and Arwen's story in Appendix A, and inspired by the poem "To Send Far Away" by Li Po, translated by David Hinton.
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To Send Far Away
So much beauty home -- flowers filled the house.
So much beauty gone -- nothing but this empty bed,
your embroidered quilt rolled up, never used.
It's been three years. Your scent still lingers,
your scent gone and yet never ending.
But now you're gone, never to return,
thoughts of you yellow leaves falling,
white dew glistening on green moss.
---
I have missed you, Estel.
I wander through the empty land of my people and feel winter descending upon me.
It has been a while since we were parted, Estel. I must admit that I lost track of days, weeks, months. It has possibly been years since your death, but I cannot remember. Time has passed strangely since I left our home in the White City to wander the silent woods of Lothlórien.
Loneliness has been a bitter taste in the back of my throat. Sorrow threatens to choke me. I think I truly understand the fate of Men now, as it looks me in the eyes. Even though I know it and fear it, I know that I would accept it again for your love if faced with the same choice.
Oh, my love, what I would give to touch you one more time! I miss the warmth of your hands upon my body, the heat of your gaze, the softness of your lips when you kissed me.
Looking around, I find myself on Caras Galadhon, in the very spot where I first fell in love with you, and a wave of grief threatens to overcome me. I sit down on the dry ground, tears spilling over my cheeks. How I miss you, Aragorn.
From my bag I take the only thing I carried with me from our home: your cloak. Dark, embroidered with silver. I touch the delicate stars, remembering when I stitched them into the velvet. I remember you dressed in silver raiment, walking toward me here in Lórien, bearing golden flowers. I remember watching you leave Imladris on Frodo's quest and wondering if I would ever see you again. I remember the joy of our wedding. I remember the love in your eyes when I bore our first child. I remember the gentleness in your hands when you held each of our children, the gentleness with which you raised them.
I press your cloak to my face and breathe in your scent, a scent that barely lingers on the cloth. Yes, I can feel winter descending upon me, strongly now. I lie back on the ground and watch the moonlight filtering through branches of mellryn. Golden leaves fall around me, and the autumn of my people is truly at an end.
Life begins to fade from my body, and I am afraid again. I do not know what is to come, whether I will pass into another life or if I will merely dissolve into nothingness. Even as terror grips me, I feel comfort, warmth. I turn my head to the side and see a single elanor flower growing. Its sweet scent tickles my nose, and suddenly my senses are filled with your presence, your scent, your warmth.
"Do not fear it, Arwen," you whisper, and I draw in one last, shuddering breath.
I release the breath and die.
It is a curious thing, death. It is simply passing from one form into another, like dew glistening one moment upon the moss and evaporating into the mist the next. I leave my body behind and fall into your arms once again.
I have missed you, Estel.
End
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