I had searched the whole house for her and finally found lady Arwen by a small niche down the hall. Bowed over a large book she was writing something, her wrist twisting gracefully. For a while I allowed myself to admire her soft features, long lashes, the wave of hair and the way the purple of her dress lovingly caressed her pale cheeks with a reflected colour.

She put down the pen and smiled at me. There was sadness to that smile, and I wondered if it was due to king Elessar's absence or the fact that in the city's walls, even so white and beautiful, she was suffocating. My words forgotten, I reached for her hand and did not let go until we left the city. As helpless as I felt, I was determined to give her comfort, and warming her delicate fingers in mine was a start.

---

By the end of the day we were both exhausted after hours of walking, running, fishing like bears would do, chasing the wild horses and playing a "healer's game" with every plant and tree we saw. We were panting and laughing, wolfing down roast fish, and her smile was at last the genuine one - the one bringing springtime to my heart - and her face was beautifully flushed.

We talked about being a healer and how it had changed my perception and then, with a twinkle in her eye, Arwen came up with yet another game and closed my eyes with her hand. My senses were already so acute it was almost painful and so I recognised every little leaf and petal she would let me touch and smell.

The last one was difficult, though. The smell and softness were definitely of a raspberry, but there was something else about it. Before I could speak or open my eyes I felt the "riddle" being moved to my mouth. Parting my lips I accepted the gift... and knew I lost the game. Unless raspberries can murmur sonorously...

"Diola lle**, Eowyn."

Everything is fading in me, slowly but inevitably. I feel like someone who has just lost her sight and fights in vain to keep the memory of beloved faces, colors and light. Eowyn asked me once if I could still hear trees and plants talking to me. I said yes... and I was lying. I write down everything I remember for I fear it won't be long before I get completely useless - to her, to him...

My father foretold me that my life as a mortal would grow hard on me, but when I pledged myself to Estel I was so sure of my love, sure of my strength. This struggle proves how wrong one could be. I do not know myself anymore... When she's with me I find myself being swept away by a whirlwind of emotion, leaving me breathless, shaken to the core, one with the whole world. When she is not near, I cannot help but question my heart - do I love her? Or do I long for this feeling she creates in me, the feeling of being First Born again, something I gave up for the sake of the mortal I am afraid to face now?

"Do you miss Eowyn already?"

He knows... How could he not feel her scent and touch imprinted on me, with those Ranger senses of his?

"Amin hiraetha**, Undomiel. I shouldn't have stayed away for so long."

"Do not take my feelings lightly, Estel. I am not a child, who easily replaces a toy taken away for a while with a new one."

I see my words sink in those smoky eyes, as old and wise as those of an elf.

"I have no doubts you are not. And yet you expect me to believe you love her as strongly as me?"

I am afraid. Afraid, that I use her to feel everything become clearer, louder, more intense once again. Afraid, that she loves me... Afraid that I do not love Estel anymore.

"I have no expectations towards you!... Estel. You always had the patience of stone. Please, do not let it shatter now. Give me some time."

I am afraid of this weakness in me.

The mortal concept of time still confuses me. It could have been three years... I have finished my book. I feel empty. My dreams full of salty winds carry me to the sea... The eternal whisperings it keeps [1] are the last audible voices of my past left. I feel longing... It is strange that the waves don't sting, even though there is an open wound in my heart. I follow the distant call, each step bringing me deeper and closer to it. Everything turns grey and the only sound I can hear now is the murmur of my blood.

The Rangers are wise men. They know that we can have anything of this world - as long as we look at it. What we truly possess are our memories and the moment we live in, nothing more. But love makes us greedy - and suddenly we wish our sight was ten times sharper, for we cannot see everything at once, and we fear our hands are not strong enough to hold what is dear to us. We fear the loss...

---

I never doubted the choice of my heart - it wouldn't have listened to me anyway - and I lost myself in a golden maze of your hair, willingly. I often watch you soak up the sun, the wind kissing your face, mimicking my caress. It is the wind you whisper your secrets to... As you turn to me, letting me walk your path, trace every slope and curve, track the core of your pulse, follow the ragged breath - I suddenly catch a glimpse of the hidden landscapes of your soul. For a moment, I am blessed.

---

I agreed to give her as much time as she needed to think things through. I would give her everything if she asked me... save immortality. It is the gift I cannot return and should have never accepted, for even she had not fully understood how the life of a mortal would change her. What do I do if she decides to leave? What shall I tell our people? How would they possibly react when told their Queen had given her heart to another mortal, a woman no less!

---

I never doubted your love for me was true. It was there, in the laughing crinkles of your eyes, in the way your fingertips brushed my closed eyelids, in the way you breathed my name and laughed at the gateways of a new day. I know you loved me - and for this I am grateful.

---

I have waited for her for so many years, keeping her image inside to help me go on when my strength seemed to falter. We have never really talked to each other - the conversations we've had during those years were always of poignant importance - and I can see now that although I have loved her, I haven't truly known her. Whatever she decides, she will be mine in my memories. For I remember every single kiss, every time I lifted the raven curtain off her face, every time I made love to her... She will not forget it, either. Will she?

---

Nothing can stay untouched, and everything changes. I do not know where this road will take us, or if we'll walk together - for even when our bodies become one, our souls are still hidden and guarded. I asked you once to have hope again... and I believe I was one of the reasons you stayed. Today, I ask you of only one thing. Every time she looks at you... every time she smiles... don't forget I love you more. [1]

The sea-gulls are very different from the birds of the forest. I hear myself in their anxious cry, in the way they skim the waves as if drawn to and scared of them at the same time. Salt on my lips, I remember the green halls I used to roam, my father, my brothers, my folk. I can still see them in my dreams, but remembering does not grieve me anymore.

At least now I know the turmoil in me. Maybe it was there all along, but had I not chosen this fate it would not have revealed itself... A challenge and a trial. Now I can turn these feelings around, examine them, shape them as I please. As I must... I must see Eowyn.

---

She walks along the shore, laughing at the waves fawning on her, kissing her feet, the wind weaving her hair into the rays of the sun [1]. As if moved by a gale I fall into her arms and she kisses the tart taste of longing and loneliness off my lips. Then I move away.

"I have something for you..."

She looks at the book I have offered to her.

"This is my knowledge, my thoughts, everything that is in me."

"I... I cannot..."

"It is mine to give to whom I will..." Like my heart. Why do the tears not come?

"Please. I want you to understand..."

She inhales sharply, as if the warm fingers of the wind caressing her face suddenly pressed on her throat. Then she nods.

"I will stay with Estel."

"... Of course."

"He... he needs me."

Hiding her eyes behind her hair, she nods again, her exhalation slow and deliberate.

"I know."

I wish she told me she needed me, too. I wish she got angry with me. Instead, she traces the gilt adornments on the cover, splinters of light stinging in her fingertips.

"This is farewell, then..."

"No!" I cling to her as if I was another layer of her dress, the one closest to her body. She holds me tight, the book clasped between us.

"Do you want me to read it now?"

---

Beads of water slide down my palms, translucent jewels of the moment. I hear the whisper of the sea, ancient mystery that even the wisest elves cannot conceive. No. I do not belong to them anymore. I turn away, feeling the wind playing with my hair, reminding me again - always - of her. She raises her head, her gaze soft and warm.

"My lady... when I woke up in the Houses of Healing I thought I would never be able to feel again. No sorrow, no anger, no hope. I could have been dead, it would not make any difference. Faramir..." she pauses and I see her eyes grow full of tender care. [2] I wonder if she ever thinks of me wearing that smile...

"He taught me there are seasons within us. If you are able to cry..." she touches my face gently. No, I am not! "... then the winter of your heart is passing away. And the spring is near."

"You are the reason" I whisper fiercely, leaning into her touch. "You are the warm wind melting the snow in me."

And so my world narrows to her slender form shielding me, her lips taking my breath away, making me feel the most precious and worshipped person ever. I respond eagerly, desperately, pouring my soul into her hands... Lacing our fingers together we exchange broken phrases, engraving this perfect moment on the inside of our eyelids. And as her arms tighten around me I hear the sea and sands, the fire and the flutter of the moths, nay, not whispering - they sing!... And I cry.

Everything you hold so dear will disappear one day. No matter how hard you try not to, you will have to loosen your grip eventually. But if you turn your palms up, so your hands become open as the sky -your treasures will stay with you freely, safe in a loose embrace of the wind.

I kiss her eyelids, brushing away the diamonds sparkling on the raven lashes. I place a kiss in the middle of each silken palm.

"Aa' menle nauva calen ar' ta hwesta e' ale'quenle...**"

Then she is gone.

King Elessar, maybe the first thing about the mortal life you should have told her is that for us each night is an end, and each day - a new beginning, and everyday we renew our vows to the world. So now, as she has made hers to you, please hear me, even though you may despise me, even though you may fear that every time you look into her eyes there I too will be.

When you saw her for the first time, was it not her beauty that drew you to her? You know that beauty is useless, if there are no virtues, no righteousness, no sharp mind behind it. Therefore love her not for her beauty, merely for the sparkle in her eyes when she tells you she loves you, merely for your wish that the day would never come when she covers you with the midnight cloak of her hair...

Love her not as a symbol of the long years of waiting and yearning, not as a prize you have finally collected for your great deeds. Love her for herself. Love her for the way she tilts her head while listening to your words as if you were the centre of her world. Love her for the way she looks at you, every time with the same curiosity and receptiveness as if it was the first. Love her for the way she touches you, every time with the same awe and gentleness as if it was the first... Love her for her smile, her tears, her wisdom and courage, her fears and doubts. Love her for herself... Promise me you will be there when she needs you. Promise me this.

---

As Queen of Elves and Men she dwelt with Aragorn for six-score years in great glory and bliss; yet at last he felt the approach of old age and knew that the span of his life-days was drawing to an end, long though it had been. Then Aragorn said to Arwen: "At last, Lady Evenstar, fairest in this world, and most be-loved, my world is fading. Lo! we have gathered, and we have spent, and now the time of payment draws near."

Arwen knew well what he intended, and long had foreseen it; nonetheless she was overborne by her grief. "Would you then, lord, before your time leave your people that live by your word?" she said. "Not before my time," he answered. "For if I will not go now, then I must soon go perforce. And Eldarion our son is a man full-ripe for kingship."

Then going to the House of the Kings in the Silent Street, Aragorn laid him down on the long bed that had been prepared for him. There he said farewell to Eldarion, and gave into his hands the winged crown of Gondor and the sceptre of Arnor, and then all left him save Arwen, and she stood alone by his bed. And for all her wisdom and lineage she could not forbear to plead with him to stay yet for a while. She was not yet weary of her days, and thus she tasted the bitterness of the mortality that she had taken upon her.

"(...) In sorrow we must go, but not in despair. Behold! we are not bound for ever to the circles of the world, and beyond them is more than memory, Farewell!" "Estel, Estel!" she cried, and with that even as he took her hand and kissed it, he fell into sleep. (...) And long there he lay, an image of the splendour of the Kings of Men in glory undimmed before the breaking of the world.

But Arwen went forth from the House, and the light of her eyes was quenched, and it seemed to her people that she had become cold and grey as nightfall in winter that comes without a star. [1]