6. Arwen: Death of A Dream
Disclaimer: why do people still bother to write this, it's obvious.
This is based on something that was based on something that I wrote at the same time as Maglor's suffering, or even before that.
Death of a Dream
She had always known this day would come. She had spied the end lurking around the corner for many years now, she had known from the very beginning that this moment was inevitable and yet…
It was too soon and a hundred years from now it would still be too soon. This was not the happy end to their fairytale like love, this was real. The bliss that had clouded her vision had grown as she wallowed in it. Blissful denial. The cold wind that ripped through every human's life just once, had come and chased the sweet scented illusion away. There were no screams to proclaim its arrival and there were no agonised coughs to announce its victory. It had come gently and, though small as it was, it was a blessing.
His eyes were open, though barely as they sought hers, in hope of finding comfort in the security her presence presented, a final attempt to hold on to the familiar and beloved before he departed to the unknown abyss and what lay beyond. For him and him alone did she manage a small smile. He was afraid she knew. A brave man he had been, still was. Steadfast he had taken on any challenge that came his way and he had hardly ever faltered, but this final test, one each mortal must take, he had to face alone. She had never stood beside him in his greatest battles, but her heart had been with him and always there had been the unwavering knowledge –hope- that somewhere someday they would meet again. But know, there would be no such reunion and the understanding this brought of their own insignificance was frightening.
'Don't leave,' she murmured, 'don't leave me.' And as she spoke her voice broke and her smile waned. What she had asked had been selfish. Why was she unable to comfort him in his hour of need? Now was the time, to show him one final time how she loved him and she could not even smile for him. He did so for her, and as he did this, she saw him as he had been and still was underneath the pale, wrinkled skin, strong and powerful, compassionate and passionate. She had loved him then and she did so now. Why could she not say it? Would it make a difference? Would it spare her a broken heart? Would it spare him? She knew it sounded dim even as she thought of it, but perhaps… perhaps that was the password to send him on. If she were to say it now, it would be the very last time those words would pass her lips. She wanted to leave, she didn't want to see him, didn't want to speak to him. There was a cruel hope inside her that made her believe that, if she ignored it, than this wouldn't happen.
Outside the guards had been talking about a funeral and she had screamed at them. He wasn't dead, he would pull through this and life would continue as before. But she had known then that it was futile hope and now she had seen him and knew it was the very last time she would lay eyes on him.
'I love you.' It was barely a whisper, but it was there. He deserved that. She could no deny him this last bit of comfort, just like she couldn't deny the truth of her statement. He still looked at her, secure within the knowledge that wherever he would go, he had her love. A small part of her shied away from that love, it had given her a few blissful years but at the same time so much heartache. No, it was not the love she pulled away from, she realised, but the pain it had brought and would bring, from reality that had so suddenly and yet expectedly put an end to their joy.
She sat by him, holding his withered hand in hers, as the hours crept by. She spoke no more and he had no longer the strength to do so. Few tears escaped her. And as his breathing finally faded away, so did the light within her eyes.
The truth lies hidden in moments
And only a moment to speak
Of what lies hidden in our hearts
Time slower in silence
In silence most things said
No one speaks
Our eyes say a thousand words
And our eyes window on our soul
In silence our souls linger
Between the two of us
In those moments they mingle
And in silence they speak.
The poem doesn't really fit but I was reminded of it immediately when I wrote the story.
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.