Fourth Age
Caras Galadhon grew silent. East Lórien offered sanctuary awhile, but became desolate without family.
After Eldarion passed, I stopped visiting Gondor: Arwen's descendants had forsaken their Elven heritage.
I dwell now with our grandsons, finding refuge anew at Imladris.
Yet still I grieve Galadriel's absence. When we were apart in Middle-earth — no matter how far — we could sense each other's well-being... but our thoughts have been sundered. I yearn for her touch, body and soul.
Tonight, I dreamt she beckoned to me. My heart grows restless... I cannot abide these faded lands any further!
But will Elladan and Elrohir remain?
Daybreak. Elrohir bursts into my bedchamber, blurting, "A dream last night disturbs me, my brother: Mother and Father were walking by the waterside, as they once did — remember? Strolling to the falls, holding hands, smiling, jesting. Yet, in the vision, something seemed amiss...."
"I, too, dreamt it. They were pacing alongside the Sea, staring eastwards, scanning the horizon...."
"Watching for us."
We face each other, confronting our long-deferred choice.
"Do we sail West?" I ask. "Or stay here — and die?"
He hesitates. "Once... I would gladly have given my life to protect Middle-earth, but...."
"We are no longer needed here."