The setting sun bathed the steps with red light as Gimli son of Gloin made his way up them onto the battlements. Looking around wearily, his aching eyes suddenly caught sight of a familiar figure standing at the wall looking out to the East. Relief flooded his heart as he made his way over to the tall shape. The Dwarf drew up alongside his friend who, though never shifting his gaze, acknowledged him with a small smile.

Around them flowed the sounds of Minas Tirith; the citizens preparing to retire for the night, the Royal Guard changing shifts - the people slowly coming to terms with the loss of King Elessar and Queen Arwen, and the new rule of their son; Eldarion Telcontar. Gimli, however, had eyes and ears only for the tall Elf at his side.

Long minutes passed. Neither spoke, each busy with his own thoughts. Gimli fidgeted uneasily. Never before had there been such awkwardness between them, the silence filled with words they longed to say to one another yet couldn't. Would it always be like this, now He had gone and left the two of them together? he wondered. No, there would be no 'always' for them, now the king had passed on. There was nothing now to keep Legolas from following his heart's call into the West.

Once again the Dwarf wished they had had chance to speak together before this - two weeks had passed since he had arrived in the city at the king's summons. He had been aware of Legolas' presence, yet they had both been too preoccupied with their old friend to spend time together then, and the Elf had kept to himself during the funeral and coronation, mourning in private. It was only today; as the entire city gathered on the battlements to watch the departure of Queen Arwen that Gimli had glimpsed his friend amongst the throng.

"Aragorn..." he said, breaking the silence and startling them both: he had not meant to speak.

"Yes," mused the Elf, "and where is he now, I wonder? Somewhere I cannot follow, cannot walk behind him into the darkness as once I did - you and I both. This time he is alone on his own Path of the Dead."

" 'Tis a strange Gift, to be sure, yet doubtless the One has a great destiny in store for those who accept it."

"Certainly the reports say he was not afraid at the end, but simply closed his eyes and gave himself up to it freely. He had great faith..."

"As should we," agreed the Dwarf softly.

Silence fell between them once more. Above them, the stars came out one by one in a glowing ribbon twisting across the sky. Earendil, the Evening Star, shone more clear and beautiful than any, seeming to Gimli to bathe his friend in a pale white light.

"I was afraid you had gone, sailed away without saying farewell," he said.

"No," sighed Legolas. "Not yet, but soon."
All this time the Elf had not even glanced at him, keeping his grey eyes looking out East towards Anduin, and beyond, to Ithilien. But the Dwarf knew what - or who - his friend saw over the many leagues with the power of memory.

"And your family?" he ventured.

"They know. They have always known," answered the Elf. "We have already said our goodbyes."

"They don't mean to go with you?"

Legolas smiled and shook his head. "Irimira is still in love with Ithilien; with the trees and fields; with the small streams and woodland creatures as on a time I was."

"And your daughter?"

The Elf laughed softly. "Gimli, Aiwe is not even 70 years of age; she has not seen enough of Middle-earth to be weary of it. And while she stays, Irimira will not leave her. Do not worry - in time they will join me."

For the first time Legolas broke his gaze and looked directly at his friend. What he saw made his expression even more sombre. He reached out and gently touched the Dwarf's hair where grey streaks now mingled with the brown.

"And now you too grow old," he whispered. His own hair was as black and glossy as ever, partly held in long braids down his back. A gentle west wind played with it, feathering it around his face; the raven strands in sharp contrast to his smooth white skin. "You should have married, my friend," he said. "It is not right that you should be alone."

"I was never alone while you were with me."

The Elf shook his head, but let the comment pass. He sighed and looked up at the stars, then leaned forward on the wall, resting his chin on his hand, now looking south towards the Sea.

"They are all gone now: Aragorn and Gandalf, Boromir the Valiant, Merry and Pippin, Frodo and Sam - we are the only members of the Fellowship left, the two of us, and you will soon be the last in Middle-earth."

And high above the Mariner sailed onwards through the nighttime oceans of the sky, the Silmaril shining upon his brow as a symbol of the hopes and triumphs of all the Free Peoples of Arda and Aman.

********

The early morning sun shone her rays through the window, illuminating a small but richly decorated guest room of the palace. Legolas reached into his pack and removed old, much worn and travelstained but well looked-after garments of green and brown, and old belt stamped with the emblems of the House of Thranduil and a rather tattered pair of light slip-on shoes. He put these on, then over them he fastened a light but silken cloak. It was difficult to tell its colour; at once grey and green or brown, changing to silver when he moved to fasten it about his neck with a brooch like a green leaf veined with silver. He took up the great bow of Lorien and the quiver of arrows and his knife, then turning caught sight of his reflection in the large full-length mirror.

Who is that boy looking back at me with surprise in his wide eyes? He has been gone so long I had almost forgotten what he looked like...but where did he go, that young Elf-prince who set out to deliver his father's message and came back only once, a changed person; who was once so carefree returned troubled with mortality and fading, and still more with the call of the Sea? Where did he go, who once ran lightly over snow to find the Sun, who sang and danced under the stars of Imladris, whose arrow caught a great Warg in mid-leap...who existed before the Balrog cast its shadow over the Company and into his heart?

Too much, too much. He turned from the mirror almost angrily and shook his head as if to clear it. Sighing, he shouldered his pack and left the room without a backward glance.

********

He paused at the city gates, studying them, then rested his forehead against the comforting coolness of the Mithril and closed his eyes. Gimli had made these, had forged them with the aid of his people from the Glittering Caves, and it was reassuring to stand here and feel his friend's presence through his work. He doubted he would see the Dwarf again and the pain of that thought twisted in him like a Morgul-knife. Last night had gone badly. He had made it clear that he would not, could not remain in Middle-earth any longer, and failing to persuade him otherwise Gimli had grown angry and stormed off.

"Selfish, Legolas - why are you being so selfish? Does our friendship mean nothing to you, or was Aragorn your only dear companion and now you are parted from him there is nothing of worth to you here?"

The words still rang in his ears.

The sound of hooves came to him, and looking up he saw the king and his courtiers coming down the street towards him.

They drew level and Eldarion jumped down from his horse and stood looking solemnly at the Elf. Legolas in turn regarded the king, noting that he was in face still little more than a boy, but a boy in which the blood of the Two Kindreds clearly mingled. He held his head oddly, not yet used to the heavy weight of the winged crown which, the Elf noticed with a smile, was rather too large for his head and kept slipping down over his eyes.

Eldarion repositioned the crown yet again, dropping the Sceptre of Annuminas in the process, but Legolas reached down with Elvish reflexes and caught it before it hit the ground. He handed it back to the king, who took it gratefully.

"Are you really going?"

"Yes, my Lord. My ship has been long prepared - I have been waiting only for this."

The king began to nod, then thought better of it and stopped. He sighed and looked northwest, towards Lorien. "My mother and yourself: the two most beloved and respected Elves in Gondor have left us in so short a time. What will we do without you?"

"There will be Elves in Ithilien for many lifetimes of Men to come, though perhaps they will not see them. But even so, our time is ending and the dominion of Men has truly begun - you yourself are proof of that, sire. Your people don't need us anymore, except maybe in songs and fireside tales of fairies and goblins and the like...and you will always have those," replied the Elf.

Eldarion looked troubled but said nothing. Then a puzzled expression came over him and he looked about. "The Dwarf, Gimli son of Gloin: your friend - is he not here with you?"

One of the Gatekeepers stepped forward. "Lord, he left the city last night with all his baggage - I thought you had been informed."

So this is it - this is his message to me; do as you will, it is no concern of mine...Ah, Gimli, now I feel the pain of desertion as keenly as you did last night; I know how you feel yet I cannot change it...Perhaps it is easier this way. Could I have boarded the ship, sailed away if you had stood on the banks of the river, asked me again not to leave you?

The Elf sighed. "Lord, I have to go."

"Oh, yes - of course. Would you like someone to accompany you?"

"No...thank you. I would prefer to travel alone on foot and appreciate Middle-earth as only the Elves can; I will never see it again."

The king smiled. "Farewell and good fortune, then. I hope you find what you are looking for."

Legolas bowed. "Farewell, king Eldarion Telcontar. May your realm endure forever; may your power grow unto the ends of the world; may your descendants become as numerous as the stars in the sky."

And with that the Elf turned and was gone, and was never again glimpsed by any mortal west of the Great Sea...save one.

(Should I continue with this, or leave it as a lost cause? Let me know what you think!)