Author’s notes: Uh…I don’t think that the title is really appropriate, but I can’t think of anything else. Treat this as the early Forth Age, where the Fellowship is old but not dead yet; and Frodo didn’t leave for the Blessed Lands.
I don’t know what I’m writing. This idea just came when I was listening to In Dreams in the LotR soundtrack. Please R/R.
Disclaimer: All LotR characters belong to JRR Tolkien. In Dreams performed by Edward Ross; Lyrics and music by Fran Walsh and Howard Shore. No intentional copyright infringement is intended through their use. The Song of the Sea is taken from The Two Towers.
When the One whom the Eldar call Ilúvatar created the Firstborn, he bestowed the gift of immortality upon them, to last as long as Arda did, and only to die when Arda perished.
Of Secondborn, he gave mortality, a curse as seen by those who received them, to live only a small fraction of years even as Arda continued.
Of gifts and curses both were, for they were given in pairs, not singly.
The Firstborn were loath to see the lands change, even as they remained unchanged, and that curse was theirs to bear, seeing all which they loved fade away.
The Secondborn were spared the grief of losing the things they loved, and death was their gift as well. Yet none knew where their souls went nor what happened to them after.
I stand at the prow of the ship that sailed across the waters, barely rocking as it cut through the Sea. Long had I traveled the Sea by Mortal reckoning, yielding to the calling of it which slumbered in the hearts of all my kindred, never to be appeased once awakened.
Ere the One Ruling Ring of Sauron’s was destroyed, I had taken leave of my friends to sail the Sea, and mayhap the Straight Way to the Blessed Lands.
I came in sight of Tol Eressëa once, but did not set foot on its shores, for it was decreed by the Valar that all who entered the Blessed Lands were not permitted to turn back.
With few others who were yet unwilling to leave the Sea, we took one ship and sailed the waters for long.
The wind-blown spray on my face brought back memories of a song I sang ere the defeat of Sauron:
“To the Sea, to the Sea! The white gulls are crying,
The Wind is blowing, and the white foam is flying.
West, west away, the round sun is falling.
Grey ship, grey ship, do you hear them calling,
The voices of my people that have gone before me?
I will leave, I will leave the woods that bore me;
For our days are ending and our years failing.
I will pass the wide waters lonely sailing.
Long are the waves on the Last Shore falling.
Sweet are the voices in the Lost Isle calling.
In Eressëa, in Elvenhome that no man can discover,
Where the leaves fall not: land of my people for ever!”
My eyes spotted the dim outline of the starting of land, and my heart was strangely lifted, as if it had been burdened with a thing I knew not until now.
Patience, Legolas, I told myself. It is only one hour more ere the ship reaches shore.
My mind remembered the time many months ago when we spotted a flock of gulls overhead our ship, crying out in their shrill voices. But it was the voice of Manwë, the Lord of the Valar, that we heard: “Granted you were with the life of immortals, to live and die as Arda did. High is the hour which now comes the doom of Arda. Whither you will go, I know not, except it is to the One himself, yet I call you back to Tol Eressëa to your people.”
I had shouted back: “What of the Secondborn, Lord? What of Mortals?”
“Their souls depart to where even I cannot see.”
What I chose in that instant, I do not regret. I prayed to Ilúvatar, and in my heart, I knew he heard.
Astaldonil called to me that we had reached shore, but I had already climbed down from the ship and hurried through the slight haze, for the time drew near.
I saw those whom I had left years ago, and was surprised to know that it had indeed felt long, even in the reckoning of Elves, ere I had seen my friends.
Frodo. Samwise. Pippin. Merry. Faramir. Éomer. Éowyn. Gimli. Arwen. Aragorn.
Those faces felt fairer than my own folks now. Ai! How I had missed them!
We embraced, and there were tears, more apt than laughter.
The rest of my kindred stood with us on the shore, and we faced the west from whence we came.
We held hands, the Fellowship and I, for the Fellowship we still was, though the Ring had been destroyed many years ago.
My still keen eyes saw a small black line at the horizon; it grew larger very quickly.
When the seas and mountains fall
As they will one day, and the day is now.
And we come to end of days
Indeed the end comes.
In the dark I hear a call
The call came not of my kindred, nor of the Sea.
Calling me there, I will go there
Middle Earth called to me. My friends called to me.
And back again
And indeed I was back, to where I belonged. My heart told me so.
The darkness had eaten half the star-filled sky, leaving a void in its wake. I smiled at my friends, and they smiled back. No words needed to be said.
But in dreams
I still hear your name
The names of my dear ones; all of us bonded in friendship thicker than blood.
And in dreams.
Our memories and dreams are one. The land of our souls is the same, though unclear. I chose mortality in my prayer, and it was granted. Though Arda may die, we will still live on. We will meet again. Boromir, Son of Denethor, you will complete the Fellowship with us ere we meet again.
We will meet again
I smiled as the darkness reached and consumed us. We will indeed meet again. In the Land I have chosen.
In the Land we have chosen.