****

I have loved you. I have loved you to my own loss, to my own helplessness. I have loved you with an ache so deep that even the words of the Elves cannot express it.

And now I must leave you. I must leave you. For my hair has greyed, even as yours has stayed youthful and bright, dark tresses against my dark tresses in my younger days.

The face of my wife, like yours, shows no trace of age or pain -- she could be mistaken for one of her own daughters. But the years have ravaged me, taken me as their captive, and bear me inexorably onward to a doom that I cannot escape. The lines in my face are deep, and my arm can no longer defend my land.

Your laughter left me cold when last you visited. You knew things I could not comprehend, and shared smiles with my son that left me wondering. Do you move on from generation to generation of mortal men, once the first has grown too old for your love?

Indeed, late at night, you leapt into my bed like a night-bird and even then you left me cold. I felt nothing at your kisses and caresses. At last you departed, smiling with a sober touch, as though you already grieved. "Such is the way of mortal Men," you said only, leaving me with a kiss.

Such is indeed the way of mortal men. And so, loved Legolas, I say farewell, as mortals must, to you and to your love. I have loved you. Beyond the stars, I will love you.

But it is my time, and so, I leave you with only the memory of my love. May it bring you joy in the days to come, and for all days, until Eru Illuvatar shall unmake the worlds, and maybe bring me back to you. I wait for that day.

END