Into the West (A Lord of the Rings Fan Fic)

Chapter Thirty Four

Despite the wrongness which lingered in the air of Rivendell and permeated every stone of every building, the nagging feeling which loitered around every corner that everything was wrong now that the end of the Elves was coming, Amaruil enjoyed herself greatly. It was nice to be home once more and it was refreshing to be away from the worrying news of the destruction which had wrecked the lands east of the mountains and the hardships which troubled the people Aragorn now found himself King of. He was doing his best to rebuild the lands and his plans were working well but the land still bore many of the scars of war and in Rivendell Amaruil was able to pretend that her life hadn’t changed that much even though she knew that barely anything would be the same as it had been before.

She spent much of her time with Bilbo and much with the few of her old friends who still remained, most of whom were leaving on one of the ships very soon. “There are ships sailing throughout the summer,” Enelya said as they sat in her gorgeously overgrown garden, the sweet scent of honeysuckle and jasmine drifting on the air, “it will not be long before many of us are gone.”

Amaruil sighed and watched one of the birds circle lazily above the trees, refusing to look at Enelya. “I hope then that we will be able to enjoy as much as possible the time which is left to us.”

“As do I,” Enelya replied with a small smile, trying desperately not to be overcome by the sadness which threatened to drown her as she thought of leaving her friend behind.

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It wasn’t too long before Bilbo’s birthday came around along with the golden leaves of autumn. “I am older than the Old Took now,” he said to Amaruil proudly as they sat side by side one day, the soft scent of rain clinging to the damp earth and exacerbating the perfume of every flower and plant, the last stray drops rolling down their leaves. Over the past few months Amaruil’s final few friends had departed, leaving only Arwen waiting for her back in Minas Tirith and Legolas, who was away travelling, and both she and Bilbo felt all the weight of the sadness which pressed down on them.

“I will miss you Bilbo,” she said quietly as his head nodded, his bare and hairy feet swinging slightly in the air as they dangled from the bench.

“I will miss you too Amaruil,” he mumbled with a smile on his face, “but I think that it is quite time for another adventure. I have a great hankering to see the rest of the world and the sea is one of the best places to start.”

“Enjoy yourself for me would you Bilbo?” she asked as his wrinkly face turned to hers and his smile widened.

“Of course I will Amaruil,” he replied, “but let us not say our goodbyes yet for you are coming with us to the Grey Havens are you not?”

“I am coming most of the way with you I think,” she answered, “though I will most likely turn around before you reach the shore.”

“Well then,” he said, “we can forget about our sadness and celebrate my birthday properly. I do think that Elrond has organised a large lunch in the afternoon for us; I hope he has for there is nothing I would quite like better than a large lunch, especially to remember my surpassing the Old Took. It seems fitting to me to go out in style as some of the younger hobbits of The Shire are so fond of saying.”

Amaruil laughed and said, “Happy birthday Bilbo; I do hope that you will live to see many more which treat you as well as they have so far when you are living in the Undying Lands.”

The day passed away all too quickly once the large lunch – which Bilbo was quite right about – had finished and before too long, before the golden sun had lengthened the shadows of the trees, the elves were mounting their horses, Bilbo was helped up onto a small pony, Gandalf reappeared from wherever far flung land he had been conducting his business in and they rode out of Rivendell. As they rode under the arches of its entrance the elves who were leaving it for the final time all looked back one last time at their old home and, though they bore it stoically, Amaruil could see and sense the sadness which settled over them all. As they rode through the forest, taking the turn which put Imladris out of their sight, someone began to sing and, as the elves were wont to do when coping with things they found difficult, they all joined in, their voices fluttering through the trees above like light winged birds soaring above their heads.