by Eonwe-(Valar)
Feb. 13, 2003
[Note: Happy Valentine's Day to all the lovers in the Guild :}]
“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. Then she said farewell to Eldarion, and to her daughters, and to all whom she had loved; and she went out from the city of Minas Tirith and passed away to the land of Lorien, and dwelt there alone under the fading trees until winter came.
There at last when the mallorn-leaves were falling, but spring had not yet come, she laid herself to rest upon Cerin Amroth…”
Far she walked on paths well trodden.
Before
her was a path, but behind was only mist. As she walked, she saw
things
she knew once were. She saw herself in her childhood in the Vales
of
Imladris, where she ran carefree with her brothers. She saw her
father
concerned as the North Kingdom fell to the Witch-King. Many years
did
she walk through, and she saw them again as she walked.
Then she saw him. Their first meeting in
Imladris,
when he was but a score of years. Far younger was he than
Arwen.
Estel was I called, but I am Aragorn… Then she was swept off to
Lothlorien,
where she sat under the trees. She looked up, and saw someone
walking
toward her. An Elf-Lord he appeared to be, clothed in silver and
white,
with a cloak of elven-grey and bearing a gem on his brow that shone
like
a star. Then she knew she loved him, and the choice was made…
On she went, walking through her memories, until
near
the end she once again halted. There she knelt by him, crying, as
he
spoke his last words. Let us not be overthrown at the final
test,
who of old renounced the Shadow and the Ring. In sorrow we must
go,
but not in despair… He kissed her hand and fell into sleep.
In vain she called to him Estel, Estel!
Then she passed through it all, and she stood upon the Gates to
Mandos.
The enormous doors slowly creaked open, and through them came a Maia,.
He
bowed to Arwen, and motioned to the door.
“This way Milady. Lord Namo is expecting you.”
Arwen stepped through the doors, followed by the
Maia.
The doors drew closed. Before her was a great corridor. Lanterns
hung
from hooks in the walls. No turns to either direction could be
seen.
Only a single door could be seen at the far end of the
hall.
The Maia motioned for Arwen to follow.
As they walked, the Maia asked Arwen questions about
her
life in Arda, and of what she enjoyed while there. As they drew
near
the end of the corridor, the Maia asked one final question. “Is
there
anything you regret?”
Arwen thought for a moment, recalling her life as
she
had seen it on her journey to Mandos. Finally, she said, “No.”
The two came to the end and stood before the great
door.
The Maia halted before opening it. “I have walked with you this
far,”
he said, “ but I am not permitted beyond. Those who go before
Namo
must do so alone. Fare well, Lady Arwen of Minas Tirith!
May
you find what you seek.” The Maia opened the door, and with a
final
bow from him, Arwen walked through the door.
“Come, Arwen Undomiel,” boomed a voice from the far
end
of the Chamber. Lanterns lined the walls on either side, but they
did
not give off enough light to illumine the center. There was a
throne
at the far end, and to either side there was a door. Each led to
a
separate hall. He who sat on the throne between poured the light
that
revealed the Chamber’s entirety, from the carpet leading to his throne
to
the ceiling’s dome several spans above. It was night in the world
outside.
Arwen’s eyes strayed upwards for only an instant, then they came down
to
look upon Namo, Lord of Mandos, Doomsman of the Valar. Arwen
approached
him.
“Hail and well met, Lady Arwen of Minas Tirith,”
Namo
said when she was before his throne. “It has been many years
since
Luthien Tinuviel stood before me. Indeed, your doom has not been
too
unlike hers. You surrendered immortality for love. Think
not
that such a thing has been done in vain, for you, better than even I,
should
know well the fruits brought forth from your choice. Yet your
doom
is to leave here, and that time will not be far off. Take counsel
with
yourself, and be prepared to leave when you are called. He
motioned
to a door, and she went through. She was in the Halls of
Man.
Many halls there were. A Maia came and led her to a vacant
chamber
where she awaited her time. She spent much of the waiting in
thought,
remembering her life.
Indeed, it was not long before Arwen was once again
summoned
to come before Namo. “The time has come for you to depart, Lady
Arwen.
Remember us fondly, for we shall not meet again until the End.”
Namo
rose and bowed, and Arwen returned the bow. She walked once again
through
the Halls of Man, but she no longer needed a guide. Her path was
straight
ahead, to the end of the Hall, where now shone a bright light. It
was
not painful to look at, but beyond the threshold nothing could be
seen.
As she came closer, she saw someone was standing
there,
waiting. An Elf-lord he looked to be, clad in silver and white,
and
about his shoulders hung an elven-grey cloak. But his face was
what
she first saw when he turned toward her from the light. He looked
as
she had last seen him, the grace of his youth, the valour of his
manhood,
and the wisdom and majesty of his age blended to reveal a greater
beauty.
Tears welled in her eyes as she rushed toward him.
“Estel!” she called, and fell into his arms.
“I waited for you,” he said softly into her
ear.
They embraced, standing there for some time without word. At
length
they released their embrace, and stood gazing into the light. “We
shall
not be parted again.” Aragorn took her hand and kissed it.
“This journey we take together,” Arwen said as she
looked into Aragorn’s eyes.
Hand in hand they walked into the light, stepping
beyond
the Circles of the World, leaving behind pain and loss and care.
For
beyond Arda is more than memory.