(For my friend Fëanormiril for Remembrance of Voronmir)
Io anann telich enni, lhossol ne fuin
Ir minuial thiant haeron, nin tennich in elin
Long ago you came to me, whispering in the night
When dawn seemed far away, you showed me the stars
Gobadannem idh raid e-daur, gohogannem vîl
Ónel enni rovail adh reviad, am mathad i nîr e-geil
We walked together the forest paths, drank together of love
You gave me wings to fly, to touch the face of the stars
Hin lín tirir nan Aear, cirnich tharaearon
Si oer nín thian arnediad… Ui ingach o nin?
Your eyes looked towards the Sea, you sailed across the ocean
Now my days seem endless… Do you ever think of me?
Taur vorn pelia os-nin, idh raid bain gwethui
Ú-belin radad pen-le, im long na gaul ‘onui
The dark forest spreads around me, the paths are all shadowy
I cannot find a way without you, I am heavy with a stony burden
Estel drengen o guren, si gwathren go ereth
Thuio guil min faer charn nín, bodo i esgal hen e-naeth
Hope has fled from my heart, now dimmed with loneliness
Breathe life into my wounded soul, banish this veil of sadness
Gûr lín anirn i Aear, gwannech tharaearon
Erui môr nín thian arnediad… Uireb renich nin?
Reno nin… Le renin…
Your heart desired the Sea, you departed across the ocean
Alone, my nights seem endless… Do you forever remember me? Remember me… I remember thee…
A figure sat encased in firelight lost in their thoughts as a lone tear cascaded down their fair face of pale silvery-white. It came to land upon their hand that had awoken them from some kind of reverie. They glanced down and espied the ring they had dearly loved so, made of mithril and encrusted diamonds with a grey blue stone in between. Long ago they had given this ring a name ‘Ilúvilissë Yáréacorma…Olden ring spirit of everything’ they thought gazing at its fading glow, and felt a stab of regret and grief at the past occurrences of their life. Shaking from their head of such thoughts, they turned towards the flickering flames and were entranced by it, their emerald green flecked gold eyes glinting from it. A sound behind them caused the grieved figure to stir and gazed up into a fair face with silver hair and bright blue eyes, and beside them was a flame red-haired and light grey-eyed Elf. The two Elves nodded in recognition and one put their hand upon the figure’s shoulder.
“i telda ciryat na vanyarato londello, herinya, en né avaquétima Endórë, nan i quellë Eldar né arát. Elyë hilyanme númenenna ar yétanna i amannórë yáratalla, ar i hehta nor néthella.”
(“The last ships are to depart soon from the haven, my Lady, there is nothing that need not be said of Endor, but the fading of Elves is eminent. Thou must follow us Westward and look upon the Blessed Land of your Ancient Fathers, and forsake the land of your youth.”)
The Lady suddenly stood striding to the nearby window and hearing laughter was somewhat relieved of what is to be now. Turning to them with a glint in her eyes, which appeared to be tears, she softly replied. “Then it is to be a bitter parting all the more so from my land of birth. For I had come to love Middle-Earth, but I have always desired to look upon the lands of my fathers, and if it is to be so, then I and my beloved children will go.”
Therefore, it came to be that after a year of grieving over Boromir her husband Fëamiril Narilvrin gathered her children and relatives and gained leave of the King and Queen of Gondor and departed to Mithlond Northward; many sad partings were to be there and would always be remembered. Then, with one last look upon Endor her beloved Earthly home, the last prominent of the Elves passed into the West, to never return again to see the lands of their birth lest should the Arda be remade. It rather seemed to Fëamiril that she felt and saw a spirit float past her and within it she saw the heart and mind of her forefather Maglor Cánafinwë, and she was indeed happy to see him set free from Exile and the Curse. Now at the shores of Aman, those on the ship gazed on Westward and they saw a multitude of people awaiting them, but Fëamiril saw her father, mother, other brothers, grandfathers, and the likes of them. Casting aside her mantle of grief, she eagerly embraced joy and happiness, but it could not forsake the loss of her beloved husband. So, lying down in the Gardens of Estë beneath the moonlight, she passed away of grief and anguish, and her likes were never seen again in Arda as it had been with Fëanor her forefather. Moreover, coming to the Halls of Mandos, she discovered and met her forefathers whom had fought in many wars known, and was now satisfied with her life, awaiting for the Dagor Dagorath the Last Battle.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.