One Shots » LotR

As Arwen, As Lúthien

So it was to be.

Once, the lands of Lothlórien had been Arwen's youth. The hill of Cerin Amroth had been her home and the forest had been her companion. Years ago, the trees had held her close in their branches and the wind guided her through the forest trails during her adventures.

Many, many years ago.

But a lifetime had passed. The old mallorn trees spoke still, but their words were sorrowful whispers, creaking in the breeze. As the time of the elves came to an end, the trees browned and withered, fading with the Children of Ilúvatar.

Arwen bowed her head against the smooth bark of one mallorn, closing her eyes softly. The once golden leaves fell like rain, landing on her head and shoulders, brushing past her face and drifting to the ground.

A single tear trickled down her cheek.

Her heart was at war, a bittersweet taste lingering in her mouth. Faintly, she was aware that the sun had begun to set on the horizon, its warm glow fading along with the day.

And so it was to be.

Sinking to her knees at the base of the tree, Arwen tried to calm the quelling of her heart. It was so broken in her chest, that she could barely breathe, the tears beginning to fall freely. They splattered like crystals to the forest floor, reflecting the fading golden light of day.

Her long life, Arwen had been compared to the maiden of old, Lúthien. But even growing up, she had never quite understood how such things moved at work. She had never seen the similarity.

Yet was at this time, that Arwen realized just how cruel fate could be.

How cruel love truly was.

For the love of a mortal, she knew not what the fading of her soul held for the afterlife. She only knew that never again would she see her father or kin; never again would she see Estel or her brothers.

As Arwen, as Lúthien; she had given up her soul for love.

The wind blew through the branches, bringing with it whispers of far off seas and echoing cries of long since extinct seabirds. But the sound comforted Arwen slightly, calming the trembling of her fingers. The air was cool now, the sun barely a glow.

So it was to be.

Her fingers grasped suddenly at the trunk of the tree and Arwen threw back her head, crying at the fading sky. The trees swayed and groaned with her shouts of pain, as if they could somehow comfort the elleth.

"For I am the daughter of Elrond. I shall not go with him when he departs to the Havens: for mine is the choice of Lúthien, and as she so have I chosen, both the sweet and the bitter."

Arwen's cry cracked off and she clasped her hands together, gazing dully at the ground. Then slowly, she pushed herself up, hands beginning to shake once more.

The trees wept leaves.

She turned away.

From the top of the hill, Arwen could see Lothlórien in all its beauty, spread below her feet. Years ago, she had given her vow upon the very hill, surrounded by singing birds and padding across white flowers.

Years ago, she had pledged her life to Estel and to Middle Earth, standing in the very spot which she now swayed.

But the flowers were dying and the green grass was turning sharp and unforgiving. Sinking to the ground, Arwen gazed down at her childhood home, which now seemed so empty and treacherous.

Her heart twisted painfully in her chest.

Both sweet and bitter... Arwen tilted her head to the fading sun and closed her eyes, as if such would stop the death of daylight. The warmth caressed her face softly, bringing a small smile to her face.

So it was to be.

As the sun faded into night, Arwen offered up her soul, her smile fading. As Arwen, as Lúthien, she embraced the departure of her life, laying back her head on the bed of dying flowers.

Around her neck, the Evenstar glowed.

The stars claimed the night sky and the mallorn trees whispered soft creaks of sorrow, shedding their once golden leaves upon the body of the elleth. The vow that had taken place so many years ago faded with her mortal lifeforce, taking its place up in the stars.

And as the Evenstar, as the Morningstar, love wove a story that would forever go down in history. That night, Arwen took her leave of Middle Earth, never to grace the land with her presence again.

As Arwen, as Lúthien; so it was to be.

A/N: this one has been sitting at the back of my mind for a little while, but I took forever to get around to writing it. I really wanted to enhance the comparison of Arwen and Lúthien, plus I really wanted to write her death from her own PoV... so here we are!

I feel like I am so behind in my writing, I just need an entire week or so to just WRITE. Now wouldn't that be fun? Maybe? Anyways though, as always, I'd love to hear thoughts! Thanks guys!