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To Cairistiona and Estelcontar: my most grateful thanks for their ongoing encouragement and support.

And thanks to Cairistiona for the beta.

Chapter 40: The Gift of Men

   The hour is indeed hard, yet it was made even in that day when we met under the white birches in the garden of Elrond where none now walk.

The Tale of Aragorn and Arwen                                                       The Return of the King

~oo0oo~

   The stars are beautiful tonight.

   I can see so many old friends shining in the sky above me. There, very clear and bright, are the seven stars of the Sickle of the Valar and there also is mighty Menelvagor, the Swordsman of the Sky, a reminder that even now in this time of peace, there is at least one more battle yet to be fought. But brightest of all is Eärendil, the Evening Star, blazing in the night sky, his path lit as ever by the light of the Silmaril. On nights beyond recall in years gone by, the stars were often my only companions; my constant guides by whose light I gratefully found my way as I travelled many a long, lonely road. Now I come to offer my thanks to them all, one last time.  

   It is cold this evening on the embrasure; there is a sharp wind gusting over the White Mountains. Or perhaps it is just that I am old and I feel these things more keenly. But I would not have missed this sunset or my last view of my realm, lost now from my sight in the fading light. As the sun finally sinks below the mountains, a mass of twinkling lights from countless windows are kindled one by one below me, piercing the darkness of the Pelennor Fields. I am the only Man left in Gondor who remembers the great battle that was fought there so long ago. The days of the War of the Ring all seem very distant to me now, as if they happened in another lifetime. The children of the men who fought and died, like my own, have grown up enjoying a world of peace and for that I give thanks. I too have become used to a life of ease and it is my dearest hope that Middle-earth never again faces a peril like that of old.

    But if evil does arise again, it will not be I who fights it now. The long tale of my years is rapidly drawing to a close; my son, Eldarion, will take up the rule of my kingdom after I am gone. I have taught him all I can and he has learned his lessons well. In him, the mighty blood of Númenor is blended with the noble blood of the Firstborn; he is a worthy heir of both our Peoples. To him do I now entrust my legacy and the safe keeping of my realm.

    Tomorrow is the first day of Gwaeron, the day of my birth. I shall be two hundred and ten years old. It is a good age, even for one of Númenorean descent. I feel greatly blessed to have been granted such a long and fruitful time on this earth. But now, with every new day, I feel my strength waning and I know the time has come at last for me to depart from this life and to pass beyond the Circles of the World. I have made up my mind; I shall not linger. It seems only fitting that I choose the same day that I was born into this life to be reborn into my new existence. Tomorrow I shall lay myself down as the kings of old used to do, long ago in an earlier Age of this world. I shall relinquish my life and accept the Gift of Men. I hope I find the strength to do this willingly and without fear, but trusting in the love of Eru, into whose hands I place my doom. I have endeavoured to lead a life worthy of the grace I have been granted and so I trust that I shall not be forsaken now. This will be the last of the many trials I have faced in my long years and I pray I shall not fail at the final test. But this test may prove the hardest of them all and the most bitter to endure. Although I step upon this final road with my heart full of hope for that which is yet to come, still I must bear the pain of leaving behind so many whom I love. Most grievous of all, I must be sundered from my dearest lady, my most beloved.

   Oh Arwen, when I have gone, you and I shall once more be apart. How I will find the strength to leave you I do not know; I feel my heart breaking even as I think on it, but leave you I must.

   The Doom of Men, as Elrond once foresaw, will, I am certain, prove hard for you to bear. But do not grieve for me unduly. Have we not been blessed with great happiness and enjoyed a life together beyond even our own dreams and expectations when we plighted our troth under the golden trees of Cerin Amroth so long ago?   What joy you have given me. You are the light in my life, my wife and lover, and my greatest source of strength. To you I have often looked for counsel and, with your great wisdom, you have ruled dutifully by my side all the years of my reign.

    My dear Arwen, I owe you so very much, I would spare you this if I could. You were my beacon of hope in those empty years when I wandered alone in the Wilds; your love and faith succoured and nourished me when my own hope faltered. For you, I kept struggling on when my feet were sore and weary and I yearned to turn aside from my path, if only for a time. In my darkest hours, it was always your face that I conjured before my eyes to sustain me and carry me through those bleak times. Without your love, I doubt I would ever have accomplished all that I did. Your own sacrifices have also been many, but still our love has not been without cost and now it is time for us to pay.

   And so I must leave you for a time as I go to my long rest, but I shall await you in that place where the Secondborn find their true home. Be strong, my beloved, and do not despair; there is a light for us still beyond our parting. I believe, with all my heart, that a time will come when we shall be together again and then we shall be sundered no more. Follow me, my love, and trust that I shall lead you to a place where we may yet walk hand in hand beneath the stars at twilight once again; a place where the bliss that we have shared in this life shall be ours for ever more, even unto the very end of Days.

~oo0oo~

 ....and with that even as he took her hand and kissed it, he fell into sleep. Then a great beauty was revealed in him, so that all who after came there looked on him in wonder; for they saw that the grace of his youth, and the valour of his manhood, and the wisdom and majesty of his age were blended together. And long there he lay, an image of the splendour of the Kings of Men in glory undimmed before the breaking of the world.

The Tale of Aragorn and Arwen                                                       The Return of the King