Whispers on the Wind

by samwisegirl
Whispers on the wind:

“Tell me..........”

She could hear him speaking those words to her, even now, after he was gone. Time had passed, and yet she still held her grief close.

She could see it in her mind, crystal clear like the sun sparkling on a lake in early morning. The day he had left her. He had gone on without her, and she felt herself begin to fade the day he had died.

“Tell me..........”

That was their oath, their vow to each other in secret. Whenever they were in mixed company, he would catch her eye and mouth those words to her. She would whisper back............ “I love you.”

He was a gracious king; wise and kind to his people. And she was ever by his side, the beautiful Queen Arwen Evenstar, whom the people called Undómiel at the request of their king. Long they dwelled in peace and happiness, and were blessed with children, and the company of good friends.

He cherished her. He could never fathom the choice she had made, the sacrifices she had suffered for her love. He knew she missed her father, for he could see it in her eyes. But she never spoke of her pain, for her joy and love far outweighed any pain she might suffer. The people of Minas Tirith loved their elf queen, and saw that as their king Aragorn aged, she only grew more beautiful and in love with her king.

She knew the day would come when he would lie down to slumber and not awaken, but she could not dwell on that thought, for she knew that she would not stand to suffer that pain.

The day came. He called for her, and she came to his side, weeping silently; the tears coursing down her fair cheeks like twinkling jewels whose worth was beyond imagining.

“Estel, Estel!” she murmured, for she was so shattered that she could utter no other word but her beloved’s name. He took her hand, and kissed her, and murmured those words yet again....

“Tell me.............”

“I love you,” she cried, as the light in his eyes began to dim. He looked at his beloved one last time and said “Farewell, Arwen Undómiel, whom I named Tinúviel upon first glance, and loved ever after that day.” And with those words, he left her.

Her grief was so great that she began to fade, and not even her children could comfort her. She left Minas Tirith and walked in Lórien with her sorrow. The trees were cold and dead, for it was winter. They were suitable companions for her grief. She was lost, and everytime the wind blew and caressed her face, she could hear his voice whispering. Whispering in the wind.........

“Tell me..........”

Finally, it was time. Time to meet with her beloved again. She laid herself down and slumbered and did not awaken. And the world grew and changed around her, but the wind and the trees remembered her undying love, and rejoiced.