"This book was written using
100% recycled words."

― Terry Pratchett, Wyrd Sisters

Epilogue: The Gift

Foaming waves rolled in and withdrew, some of them reaching far enough to cover the old woman's bare feet. She didn't seem to mind; her gaze was set on the thin line where the dark sea met the grey, cloudy sky.

The Lord and Lady of Mandos joined her.

"Thou persistest in lingering," Námo stated.

She smiled distractedly. "Mm."

"The Halls of Waiting were never meant to be a permanent residence. Thy Gift awaitest thee; wherefore dost thou not go on?"

"Not yet."

"What art thou waiting for?"

"My husband."

Námo glanced at Vairë. "This hath happened before, hath it not?"

She smiled. "Aye. Young Beren was headstrong as well."

The woman finally looked up. "If he could do it, then so can I. I'm a Swede; we are good at waiting."

Vairë indicated a smudge on the horizon. "Methinks thy waiting hath come to an end."

The smudge was a ship. When it approached, the three onlookers saw that there were people on board: a white-bearded dwarf and two blond elves.

"Over here!" yelled the woman, waving an arm eagerly.

"Coming!" yelled one of the elves before turning to his companions. "It is time to part. I love you, Father. And... Please give my love to Mother, too. Tell her I am sorry I could not go to her."

The other elf didn't reply, he just took him into his arms and hugged him long and hard. When he released him lines of pain marred his ageless face.

With misty eyes, his son turned to the dwarf. "And you... My dear Gimli. You have been a true friend. I could not–"

"Yeah, lad, I know. I know." The dwarf wiped his face. "We've said goodbye so many times already. Now, go to your wife!"

The elf nodded his head quickly. "Aye, I will. It is just hard to let go." With that, he dived overboard in an elegant arc and began swimming with long strokes. "Farewell," he called over his shoulder. "I shall miss you!"

The woman ran towards him and they met halfway, clinging to each other in a wet hug with waves lapping at their knees. "Finally," she sobbed happily. "What took you so long?"

"It was only a few weeks since you died. I had to purchase the ship, gather supplies, pick up Father and Gimli, say goodbye to everyone... It took a while."

"Yeah, yeah, excuses... But no matter. You're here now, thank Eru!" She pulled his face closer so she could kiss him. "I missed you so much."

"Get a room," hollered the dwarf from the railing.

Grinning through her tears, the woman looked up. "Good to see you again."

"Not for long, dear lass," said the dwarf fondly.

Her smile waned. "I'm so sorry you two can't come too."

"Do not worry," said the older elf unsteadily. "We have others waiting for us; we will be perfectly fine. I am very happy for you."

"Thank you, Father," sniffed the woman.

"Welcome to my Halls," Námo cut in. He indicated a bluish outline in the distance. "Yonder art the Undying Lands, where thy friends await ye." Turning to the younger elf, he continued: "Thou, however, hast another choice."

"Aye, my lord." He bowed politely. "I have come to ask for Lúthien's Gift."

"It is thine."

His eyes became damp again. "Thank you for deeming me worthy."

"The Gift hath naught to do with worth; if it did, no one would receive it. Nay. Thine heart yearned for it and thy distress touched us."

"What happens now?" asked the woman. "Do we return to Middle-earth as two mortals, like Beren and Lúthien?"

"Thy destination is thither." He pointed.

At that moment the clouds parted above them, releasing a ray of sunlight. It bridged the expanse like a golden stairway.

The elf and the woman waved one last time before starting up the radiant beam hand in hand.

After a while her voice drifted down, faint and distant: "Why must there always be heights?" Then they disappeared behind a cloud and were gone.

Soon the ship had sailed away as well and only the two Valar remained on the windy beach.

"I wonder what lieth up yonder," said Námo wistfully, and not a little enviously. "Dost thou think the Creator dwelleth there?"

Vairë smiled to herself. Even her husband in all his wisdom knew not what she had seen in the weave; the final fate of Arda. A woman's heart was an ocean full of secrets.

"Who knoweth?" she replied innocently.

"Wherefore art thou smiling?"

"Let us go inside, husband; it hath become chilly."

Before turning away, Vairë regarded the spot where the mortal couple had disappeared, looking forward to seeing that mysterious place herself.

For, as it was said, indeed the elves' and the Valar's fate was tied to Arda, and they were destined to linger until the end of days – but no one but Vairë knew what would happen after the end of days.

It would be great fun to meet everyone again! She was patient; she could wait.

The End

A/N:

In my "headcanon" everyone is rejoined in the end: men, elves, hobbits, even dwarves. Call it Heaven if you will, or Paradise, or some other name – but it is a place of eternal happiness and bliss. Thus Legolas will soon meet his parents again (for a thousand years are merely a blink in their long lives...) Considering Tolkien's faith, I think he would agree the elves don't just cease to exist when the world ends. :)

Thank you for joining me on this journey! This has been so fun to write, and I've enjoyed myself immensely.

Final hugs and kisses for you who followed this story from the beginning and those who came along the way, for your invaluable encouragement and cheering me on. ♥

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Some advertising. :) I have begun a new longfic where my favorite elves Legolas and Thranduil both find love, called Matched From Birth. It's about an arranged marriage, family secrets and all the problems Legolas encounters in Ithilien.

And if you want to read something fluffy and romantic, perhaps you may enjoy my first completed Legolas fic, Riding With the Elves? It's about a young horse breeder who joins Thranduil and Legolas' new quest with a secret mission.

I've also written a fairly short, humorous Thranduil romance called The Librarian and the Elvenking. :)

Image Credits:

Pixabay, public domain.