A short story I did on the last day and death of Arwen, rating is K. Enjoy
Reunion
He watched her wander through the faded trees of Lorien, sometimes pausing at certain spots and remembering stolen kisses or a gentle caress. “Do you remember when you kissed me right here under starlit sky ?” She murmured, lost in the memory which he could also see. “Yes, he replied back, “can we repeat it?” He strode up to her and touched her hand, but his hand fell through hers. A tear formed as he cursed his decision of leaving the world too early. He should have waited until he had naturally died, but the fear of her seeing him as an old dolt had forced him to make his choice. Now his beloved was far from home and alone, except for him and for their memories.
Arwen paused and felt a slight tingle in her hand, as if some invisible hand had been trying to hold it. For the first time in months a slow smile crept across her wrinkle-lined face. He’s here she thought, knowing that her intuition had been right, she was not alone. She had been carrying this feeling for more than year, when on the morning of the third day of her return to the silent country, she had awoken with a tingling sensation on her lips, the same sensation she had felt on her hands. He’s here and he was never going to leave me, even in death, she mused again. Suddenly, she felt all of her 2900 years catch up with herm making feel as ancient and tired as an old oak. She desired eternal rest and to see Aragorn again. Picking up her dirty, torn skirts she walked to Cerin Amroth.
Aragorn watched with alarm as she made her way to the hill. What was she doing? Was she going to jump? He wished that she could hear him, he would tell her to go back to Minas Tirith and to advise their son how to rule and to be a grandmother to their grandchildren, not here wandering in this land, trying to relive the memories. He followed her, yelling at her to go back, but when it came to their love, she never listened; instead she would listen to her heart. Finally he gave up, and instead quietly followed her up the hill. She would need him there, in case she did something drastic. He watched as she approached a hole covered with a faded cloak. Did she have something buried underneath it? He watched with interest as she peeled it back, revealing a grave. He remembered watching her endlessly dig it, now she had decided it was time. Arwen looked around at her surroundings one last time. She took in the gold, purple, and pink colors of the setting sun, the snowcapped hats of the Misty Mountains as they marched on, and the trees. “Goodbye” she whispered as she leapt like a deer into her grave, pulled the cloak, and settled down for eternal sleep. Aragorn waited.
It was night when Arwen awoke and climbed out of the grave. Above, stars twinkled in greeting. She no longer felt like the tired old woman she was that day, but was her youthful self again. She was also no longer wearing the midnight blue robes of mourning, but a heavily beaded white dress held with straps. Diamonds glittered on her neck and brow in the moonlight. She drank in the night air and began to dance lightly on the grass until she stumbled and fell over something that felt like a log. “I feel no pain, I must be dead.” She said aloud, noting the transparency of the grass through her hands, which led to her confirmation. “But if I’m dead, where is Aragorn?” She looked down at the supposed log she tripped over and noticed it was leg clad in grey breeches. She turned to her right and found him sleeping peacefully under a mallorn tree. He was handsome and youthful. His long brown hair had no grey, nor did the brown stubble on his face. He was the same Aragorn that had proposed to her on that midsummer’s night many years before. Changing position, she kneeled over him and kissed him lightly on the lips, his stubble tickling her.
Aragorn awoke to a soft kiss and saw a pair of familiar grey eyes staring at him, studying the youthful white skin around them. “I must be alive,” he said astounded, “Oh Arwen.” He returned the kiss with more passion, letting his hands walk through her long black hair and caressing her long neck. She broke the kiss laughing. “No darling, neither one of us is alive any more.” He laughed with her. “I cannot believe you waited for me, I thought you had passed on.” She cried, returning his caresses. “I could not leave you, even death you are the Queen of my heart and I could not bear to wander the afterlife alone.” She gave him a quick kiss, got up and held up her hand. This time he took it and his did not fall through. He pressed her to his chest, and tilted her head back. “And yes, I remember kissing underneath a starlit sky.” They exchanged one last kiss in Middle Earth as they floated away to eternal bliss.
