A/N: This fic is born of a situation I'm currently in, and I suppose was looking for a way to work through it, and find the answers I needed. It's a labor of love, so be nice in reviews.

Thanks to Cathy for beta'ing and making sense of my insane emotional ramblings.

This is dedicated to my favorite mal-typist

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Legolas sat on the shore, his knees drawn up to his chest; his elbows rested upon them, and his chin was on his forearms. He had been sitting there for quite some time, though he wasn't sure exactly how long. As he stared silently out at the sea, he wondered if he had done the right thing. This past year had probably been the hardest of his life, even harder than the War of the Ring, one hundred and fifty years before.

One year and three weeks ago, Aragorn Elessar, King of the Reunited Kingdom, and best friend to Prince Legolas Thranduilion of Eryn Lasgalen, had passed into what was known as the Fate of Men. It had been a hard time for everyone in Middle Earth, for all loved the King dearly. No one had suffered more than Arwen Undomiel, though.

For one hundred and fifty years, she had been bound to him, body and soul, and she had loved him even longer, still. She had given up her immortality, her family, everything she had ever known for the love of this man. To lose him, even if it was inevitable, was a heavy blow indeed.

Though she remained dignified in the days following his death, and strong for their children, their friends, and her chosen people, Legolas could clearly see her heart was broken.

They had known each other since childhood, after Legolas' mother had died tragically, his father had taken to sending the young prince to Rivendell every summer. There Elladan and Elrohir became like brothers to him, and Arwen his sister. Celebrian had often filled the hole his mother had left behind and Legolas still regarded Elrond as a second father, and respected the ancient elf's great wisdom, and gentle spirit.

When Aragorn had come into their lives, a young child without a father in need of protection from the dark forces in the world, Elrond had dutifully taken him in. He was, after all, descended from Elrond's only brother, Elros, and the Elf Lord had always done his best to help his nieces and nephews, no matter how many generations removed. What began as an act of duty, soon became an act of love, as Aragorn's bright spirit and winning smile won the hearts of every elf in Rivendell. That same spirit won Legolas over when they met a few years later, and Arwen succumbed to his charms many years after that.

Though many had opposed the union between Arwen and Aragorn, Legolas had seen how truly happy they made one another. It always seemed that their souls were destined for one another, it had only been a matter of time until they came together as one.

Sighing, Legolas watched the waves roll up to the shore.

The ocean always gave him such a sense of peace. It was the rhythm of it, he supposed. The way the waves get sucked back out to the ocean, but always find their way to the shore again.

After Aragorn had died, nothing had given Arwen such peace.

As a duty to his mortal friend, as well as the maiden who was like a sister to him, Legolas had taken residence in the room next to the queen's chambers. Long ago, it had been a nursery, each of her four children had slept there as infants. Legolas had taken odd comfort from that fact, that those four little pieces of Aragorn were in the world, and as long as his line continued, some part of him would live on through them.

But when Legolas went to bed at night, he could hear Arwen weeping, sometimes crying out in her sleep. At first, he would go to her, try to give her what comfort he had to offer, but to no avail. Soon, she would not leave her bed, and stopped eating. It broke Legolas' heart all over again, to see the maiden who was once hailed as the most beautiful in all of Arda dry up, as though she were a fruit left in the sun too long.

Indeed, her days in the sun were numbered, though Legolas did not know it at the time. Six months after Aragorn's death, she began asking him to take her to Lorien. He would tell her there was nothing there, that her grandmother had left long ago and the magic that once inhabited those beautiful mallorn trees no longer lingered. Arwen was insistant, though. Every morning, when Legolas brought in her breakfast, she begged him, "Please, take me to Lorien, mellon nin. Take me home!"

For a month, this went on, every day she asked, and every day he refused. She would then pick at her food, and eat as little as he would allow. Arwen's stubborn streak proved useful once again, for the day eventually came when he could refuse her no longer.

Her always slender form had become hollowed, you could easily count her ribs, and her face was marked with sorrow. She was barely a shadow of her former self. So, Legolas prepared a horse, in hopes the journey would refresh her, and perhaps give her the strength to live whatever time Iluvitar had allotted her. The Queen bid farewell to her children, though her daughters wept much, for they seemed to know what Legolas had yet to accept, and Legolas and Arwen set out for Lorien.

So weak was she, that he had to cradle her against his chest as they rode. At night she would shiver, and whimper in her sleep. He pressed his body against hers in a vain effort to share his own warmth with her. She took no comfort from his companionship though, for what comfort can be found when one is incomplete?

Though it took many days longer than it should have, they finally arrived in Lorien. Arwen could see that Legolas had indeed been correct, nothing remained of the great elves who once made their home beneath these trees.

The flets had been disassembled, and all the things that had once marked it as the home of the galadhrim had vanished into the mists of time. A single tear of longing slid down Arwen's porcelain cheek, she had been hoping to find some comfort in the Golden Wood. But, there was none to be found, indeed she knew now there was no more comfort in this world for her.

She was too weak to walk, so Legolas carried her in his arms, like one would a child. She rested her head on his strong shoulder as he carefully stepped amongst the snow-covered trees, searching for some sign that the woods remembered the time when elves had slept cradled in their boughs.

Finally, Arwen whispered in his ear, "Take me to Cerin Amroth, please."

Legolas wondered at her request, but did as she bade him. He sat down on the snow covered hill, and she rested in front of him, letting him support her meager weight.

There they sat upon that golden hill where the last king of Lorien had built his home, though it had vanished into memory long before the War of the Ring. Arwen whispered the story of how she and Aragorn had pledged their eternal love upon that hill. "I miss him so, Legolas."

A tear trickled down Legolas' face, as she rested her dark head back against his chest and closed her silvery eyes. "I wish you would not do this Arwen. Please, let's have something to eat, and I'll take you back to Gondor. Your children need you."

Arwen smiled wearily, she had known what was going to happen for some time now. "I wish you could understand, mellon nin. I am not going back, I have not the strength, nor the will to carry on any longer. My children do not need me, they have all grown tall and strong, with families of their own. It is time for me to accept the fate I chose on this hill, when I promised Aragorn that I would be his for eternity."

Legolas shook his head fiercely, "No. No it's not. Come, I can take you to Valinor, you can see your family again! It's too soon..." His voice trailed off, choked with grief and frustration. She did not have to die now, she could have two or three hundred years more in Valinor!

Arwen did not answer him right away, she merely studied the trees, their branches laden with snow and ice. The late afternoon sunlight shone through them, creating little rainbows here and there throughout the glade.

"This is my choice, mellon nin," She finally replied. "I can not live with the memory of his love. I know you don't understand, and I know you're hurting, but I don't have the strength to ease your pain. I wish I did." She did not weep, though the tears were now coursing freely down Legolas' face.

He knew what he had to do, what she wanted him to do, though she did not ask it of him.

Taking a shuddering breath, he bid her farewell. "Then, I will leave you to your choice, my lady."

He laid his cloak upon the ground, and rested her upon it. She smiled up at him peacefully, and for a moment, Legolas caught a glimpse of her former beauty. "Be at peace, my oldest friend. Aragorn and I will ever be with you, I promise."

Legolas sobbed once, a choked sound, and gently pressed a kiss to her forehead, then stepped away. "Namaarie, mellon nin."

He then left Arwen to her chosen fate, and made for the Grey Havens, having no more desire to remain in Middle Earth.

Which brought him to where he was, sitting on the shore, staring out at the ocean.

Off to his right, one last ship was docked, left behind for him when the last of the elves had departed for Valinor. It was a tiny vessel, meant to be manned by one person, the prow was carved into the form of a graceful bird, with the wings forming the body of the ship. A single sail rose from the center, and though it looked fragile and delicate, it was actually quite strong.

He had sailed it down the Anduin, after collecting Gimli who would not allow him to sail alone.

Standing up, he boarded the ship, and cast off almost mechanically. He caught himself up in manning the sails, and the many things that needed doing as the last grey ship sailed away, thankful for the distraction from his sorrows. Gimli made some rather loud conversation, in an obvious, but kind-hearted, attempt to cheer his melancholy companion.

Finally, he was able to take a break, and Legolas found himself leaning against the railing staring eastward, at the swiftly receding shores of Middle Earth. "I hope you and Aragorn are together, Arwen. I hope you are at peace, and happy, where ever you are." He murmured softly.

"What?" Gimli called from his seat at the base of the mast, where he was puffing away on his pipe.

"Nothing." Legolas called back, and turned his attention back to the water.

One final elven tear dropped into the ocean, as Legolas turned to face the sunset his mind full of memories of his friends, his heart full of sorrow, but his soul full of hope.

The sun slipped below the horizon, and the stars began dotting the skies.

Tomorrow was a new day, Arwen had made her choice, and followed her destiny. It was time for him to do the same.

~*~

"It's choice - not chance - that determines your destiny." ~ Jean Nidetch