Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR...sad...
Author's Note: Well, here is the end. A long bit for the last part, since I couldn't decide where to break it up. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy it, and please review!
Carlon stumbled wearily through the trees. On her back, Éowyn sat slumped. They had searched the forest for what seemed like hours, but had found nothing, not even a clearing. Éowyn knew they would have to stop soon, but she wanted to find Táralonde.
A sound in the trees above her head caused her to jerk Carlon to a halt. Listening closely, Éowyn heard a wailing scream that echoed through the forest. Again, there was a rustling in the trees. Peering into the forest, Éowyn spotted a dim light and spurred Carlon toward it with a new hope, but also a dreading fear.
The light grew steadily brighter as horse and rider drew closer to the little cottage in the clearing. Smooth, round stones were embedded around the doorway and the window frames. The door was cracked open, so Éowyn wearily dismounted and pushed it open more.
An elf maiden sat cross-legged on the floor in front of a sphere of brilliant light. Her long black hair flowed down her back in gleaming tresses. Her violet eyes reflected the sphere's light like glowing orbs.
When Éowyn entered, the maiden looked up, startled, and quickly whispered an elvish word. The sphere's light began to dim.
"Who are you?" she whispered. "And why do you enter this place?"
"I am looking for someone," Éowyn replied. "Someone who looks very much like you." The elf smiled.
"You are looking for my sister? She is not far from here, with Elrohir."
"Your sister?" Éowyn looked confused. "But you cannot be Eledhriel, can you?"
"I thought you left for the Undying Lands with Elrond and the rest!"
"I was planning to…" Eledhriel turned her eyes back to the dimly lit sphere in front of her and softly spoke an elvish word. "…but something held me back, more than one thing, in fact." The sphere's light grew brighter and swirled round and round like a whirlwind, faster and faster. An image began to form in the swirling colors. The picture became clear, and Éowyn gasped.
"It's Táralonde! And…that elf beside her…is it Elrohir? I cannot tell from this angle."
"Yes, it is he." Eledhriel whispered something else, but Éowyn only caught the word 'brother.'
"Is Elladan coming?" Éowyn asked in surprise. Eledhriel spoke an elvish word and stood up.
"Na'vaan!" she called. The sound of hooves galloping up to the cottage reached Éowyn's ears. The elf maiden picked up the now black sphere and placed it carefully in a silken bag. She turned toward Éowyn.
"On the mantel you shall find something that belongs to Táralonde. Tell her that she can make its call because Father always used to make it for us when we were younger." Eledhriel swept out the door, mounted her black mare, and galloped away.
Éowyn looked on the mantel and found Táralonde's sculpted seagull, along with a note with 'Tára' written on the front in a delicate, flowing script.
"Éowyn!" cried Táralonde.
"Táralonde! How did you know I was here?"
"My sister told me," she replied, smiling happily. "And she said you had something for me."
"Yes. From her, I think. And she said to tell you that you can make a seagull's call because your father always made it for you when you were younger." She handed the letter to Táralonde.
After scanning the letter, Táralonde looked up. "She says that she has gone to find our cousin, and that they will meet us in Rivendell."
"My poor Carlon needs a rest first though," Éowyn commented. "She's not as young as she once was."
"Of course," Elrohir consented. "And even my Maethen will need to take an easier pace carrying two of us."
"We cannot stay here any longer than that?" Táralonde asked, saddened.
"No, my dear," Elrohir replied gently. "We would not wish to keep your sister and your cousin waiting."
When the three returning from Mirkwood entered the hall of Rivendell, Elrohir chuckled. "Ah, a room full of friendship, as in the old days." And indeed it was.
In a secluded corner, Eledhriel and Elladan sat pouring over what appeared to be stacks of very old manuscripts. Shiraen and Emril sat in the middle of the room on a round carpet, laughing over a book they were reading. Legolas and Gimli lounged in front of a roaring fire, the dwarf puffing contentedly on an ancient pipe.
As soon as they stepped in the door, Faramir jumped up from his chair, dropping a book in the process.
"We've been waiting for days!" he cried, hurrying up to them and slipping an arm around Éowyn's shoulders.
"Not exactly days," Elladan laughed. "And besides, it's not like we've been bored." He smiled at Eledhriel and she smiled back. "Anyways, we've been discussing a few things, and I think we came up with an idea that will be satisfactory to all. Legolas?"
"Right." Legolas nodded. "Cirdan left a ship for me at the Grey Havens. I was planning on taking it to Valinor once Gimli and I have seen all the elven and dwarven masterpieces in Middle Earth. If any of you wish, you may accompany me, excepting of course…"
"Us," Faramir filled in. "That's fine. We would rather stay here." Éowyn smiled and nodded her agreement.
"Right," Legolas continued. "So whenever you all want to go, I'm ready."
"Really Legolas?" Táralonde asked excitedly.
"Really Cousin," he replied, smiling.
"And Elrohir? Elladan? Will you go with him too? She asked.
"I will," Elrohir stated. Elladan looked at Eledhriel questioningly. She sighed blissfully.
"Ah, to see the Undying Lands at last." Elladan smiled and squeezed her hand gently.
"We will go as well."
"And us too!" Shiraen and Emril cried, entering into the conversation for the first time. "You're not leaving us behind!"
"Of course not," Táralonde cried. "You must come!"
"Well lads and lasses," Gimli said. "I'd better interrupt and make sure you know that a dwarf'll be traveling with you as well."
"Oh good," Shiraen giggled. "There will be comic relief on the ship after all." Gimli harrumphed gruffly and returned to smoking his pipe as everyone laughed.
Soon everyone broke up into groups to discuss the journey. Táralonde turned to Éowyn.
"You don't mind me going, do you?" she asked uncertainly. "You are pretty much my mother after all."
"Oh, I don't mind, my dear," Éowyn replied. "You must go. I understand that. You go and meet your real mother and father and be with the rest of your kin. Besides, you wouldn't be comfortable around here once Faramir and I get old, now would you?" Táralonde laughed.
"I suppose not." She paused. "But I want you to keep my seagull." Carefully taking the figurine out of a pouch at her waist, Táralonde handed it to Éowyn. "Keep it in memory of me."
A strong wind blew across the bay. A white sail billowed out, and the ship was blown out toward the west.
Táralonde stood at the stern, waving her final farewell to her adopted parents. Elrohir made his way back to stand beside her.
Impulsively, Táralonde slipped the leaf-engraved silver band off her finger. After one last loving glance, she threw it as far as she could into the sea. The ring glinted in the sun as it twisted in the air, then was lost beneath the waves.
Táralonde and Elrohir stood, hand in hand, waving until they could no longer be seen.
Thus ended the last bit of magic from the Third Age. And thus began the undying love of Elrohir and Táralonde.