Numberless as the Wings of Trees by Laurëalúmë  

Chapter III. Departures and Arrivals

In this final chapter, characters meet the destinies that Eru has in store for them. 

After the hobbits emerged from Lórien healed of their hurts, they swiftly grew weary of Valinor, and a ship bore them to Eressëa. There, on a promontory that sloped southward to the sea, the Eldar built a house for them after the manner of hobbit dwellings, delved into a hill, with a round door and windows. On Eressëa, Bilbo discovered the flowers he loved best, for all the fairest things in Middle-earth were to be found in the Undying Lands, save that these flowers were without blemish and would never wilt. Bilbo also found on Eressëa a plant never before seen by the Eldar who dwelt there. It yielded the hobbits' 'pipe-weed', and ceased to grow after their passing. The hobbits and Gandalf would sit in the garden before their little house and smoke their pipes while they gazed out over the Great Sea, toward the eastern horizon. 

At times, Elrond and I would visit them there, and I drew comfort from Frodo's companionship, for between us was an understanding that set us apart from all others in the Undying Lands. In time, Bilbo passed away, and we buried him in the little garden. Frodo grew quieter after that, and though he had been healed of the shadow of Mordor, still there was an emptiness in him that all the beauty of the Blessed Isle could not fill. 

One morning in the twilight of Frodo's life, I made the short journey from Avallónë to tend to him. I rode beneath the morning stars and found Olórin sitting in the garden. While Frodo slept within the house, we walked down to the shore. A ship appeared on the horizon with the dawn, and I hoped that it might bear Celeborn, Elladan, Elrohir, or any of the Galadhrim. Yet I perceived that it was no elven swan ship, but a far smaller boat. As it drew near, we discerned the solitary figure at the prow. By the grace of the Valar, Samwise Gamgee had found the Straight Road and been admitted into the West.  

His curls had turned to grey, but his brown eyes, honest and thoughtful, were undimmed. Joyful was his reunion with Olórin upon the beach. We led him up the hill, through the garden, and into the little house. Frodo was ailing at that time, and Samwise sat by his bed, watching him quietly. When Frodo's eyes opened, he said, "I've waited for you, Sam. I knew you would find your way here in the end." 

In the company of his friend, Frodo's strength was renewed for a time, and they walked slowly but contentedly about the land with Olórin, or with Elrond, or alone together, talking of the Shire, their friends, and their shared days. On a morning as green and golden as the Spring of Arda, Frodo collapsed. The Elves bore him to his little house and laid him in his bed, where Elrond, Olórin, Samwise, and I held vigil. After a time, Elrond and I took our leave, then Olórin, and then only Samwise remained. When at last he emerged from the house, it was as though a weariness had descended upon him that all the nourishment of the Blessed Realm could not lift. He passed into the keeping of Mandos three days later with Olórin at his bedside. 

The bodies of Frodo and Samwise were buried beside that of Bilbo in the little garden. Upon their grave I cast some of the earth that I had brought with me from Lothlórien, just like that which I had given to Samwise in parting by the shores of Anduin. Whereas this soil surpassed that of the Shire and any other land in Middle-earth, it had less virtue than the hallowed ground of Eressëa, and yet I wished for it to adorn the hobbits' grave. The elves of Eressëa tended to the little house and garden, which they named Perianmar, Halfling Home. Olórin repaired there at times, but with the death of Frodo, I went there never again. 

I dwelt for the most part in Alqualondë with my mother and father. One morning, more than one hundred years after the hobbits' passing, word came of a most strange arrival in the haven on Eressëa, a being short of stature and stout, with a long, coarse beard. I sailed at once to Avallónë and there met Gimli, who, with Legolas his friend, had built a ship and come into the West. The Valar had accorded him this special honor for his part in the Quest of the Ring and in the reconciliation of Dwarves and Elves. The Elves of Aman were amazed by the dwarf, and for them there was no bitterness or distrust of the Naugrim. Gimli blushed and bowed low when he beheld me, and we exchanged many fair words. He and Legolas told me much news of Middle-earth, of how elves and dwarves together had aided in the rebuilding of Minas Tirith and Osgiliath, how the Dwarves had driven the remaining orcs from Khazad-dûm and begun to restore its ancient glory, how elves of Eryn Galen now dwelt in the fair land of Ithilien, and how Aragorn had made peace with the men of Rhûn and Harad and reclaimed the Kingdom of Arnor in the north. They told me also of the death of Aragorn in the manner of the Númenóreans and of the crowning of his son, Eldarion, as king. Eldarion, Son of the Eldar.  

"What of Arwen?" I asked.

"The Queen Arwen was dearly loved by the King, her children, and all of her people in Gondor and Arnor," said Legolas. "Her reign was joyful, my lady. Gimli and I were in the citadel at the time of Aragorn's passing, for he knew the end was nigh and wished to bid us parting words. After she emerged from his chamber, the Queen bade farewell to her daughters and entreated her son to be a just king in the sight of the Valar. Then she rode out alone from the city, westward, and none knew whither she went."

Arwen had died, and her spirit had gone to the fate of Men. I remembered then the vision of her death upon a bed of faded mallorn leaves that had come to me in the gardens of Lórien in my youth. Legolas spoke also of the great beauty of her son, in whom her likeness endured, even as Dior, son of Lúthien and Beren, had been of rare and surpassing beauty. Eldarion was also steadfast and just like his father Aragorn, wise for his years, and learned in Elven lore like his grandfather Elrond. I wondered if, within this king of Men, there was also something of myself. 

Through my intercession, Gimli was permitted to set foot on Aman and enter Valinor. The Pelóri filled him with great wonder and praise for Aulë, whom he named Mahal, and I brought him to the vala's halls, carved beneath the lesser mountains in the middle of Valinor. These were not unlike to Khazad-dûm, for the Dwarves were Aulë's children. Yet the caverns that Aulë had wrought in those hills when the Valar came to Aman far surpassed any in Middle-earth, even those beneath Helm's Deep. There still the Noldor labored joyfully under Aulë's tutelage, mining metals and gems and working in the smithies to enrich Valinor and pass the long ages. There, Gimli was granted an audience with the vala, and long and glad was that meeting, for not since the crafting of the Seven Fathers of the Dwarves had one of the Naugrim spoken with Aulë, and never again would one enter the Blessed Realm. Thereafter, Gimli dwelt with Legolas on Eressëa until his days, brief in the eyes of the Eldar, drew to an end. Legolas's grief was great, and after burying his friend, he took to roaming the vast forests of Oromë in Valinor, often in the company of Olórin, and came rarely among his kin in Eldamar.

In time - years and centuries meant little to the Eldar anymore - ships bore ever more Elves from Middle-earth to their long home, among them even Avari who had shunned the first invitation of the Valar in the deep past. All were welcomed, for in the end we were no longer Vanyar or Teleri, Tatyar or Nelyar, but Quendi, the Firstborn Children of Ilúvatar, bound to spend the ages together and await the same distant doom. Elladan and Elrohir sailed, and great was the joy of Elrond and Celebrían at that reunion. Many elves of Lothlórien and Eryn Lasgalen forsook their woods in sadness, even proud Thranduil, and yet in Valinor they found trees beyond their imagining. Celeborn was borne by one of the final ships, and the weariness of his heart was lifted by the beauty and wonder he beheld as we wandered the land of the Valar together. 

Last of all sailed Círdan, whose memory went back to the starlit darkness of Cuiviénen, on the fairest ship that ever his hands wrought. Then the Straight Road was closed, and the cord that tethered Aman to Middle-earth was cut, save only the thread that led to Mandos.