The Havens by MaedhrosFeanorian

Farewell

Maglor says farewell to the last of his kin.

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I can hear the singing from here. Somehow I cannot help but join in, however softly. I knew this day would come, and I have waited for many years to see it. The last of my kindred depart for the West. If only I could follow. I could not, even if I wished to. I cannot expect the Valar to forgive me, not after all I’ve done. I don’t have the resolve to end it, like Nelyo. Nor do I truly wish to. I am a living memory now. Without me, many things will be lost. I must stay here. I belong in this world far more than I belong in Valinor. I made that choice long ago.
Now they begin to ride past, first the young ones, then the others. Well, I say young. All are young to me, save Artanis and Olórin. Each of these elves is at least a few hundred years old or more. Yet they already return to the Blessed Land. Perhaps it is better. They will never bear the pain that we Ancient Ones do. I can see Olórin, waiting for them at the havens. He still appears as an old man. So different from when I knew him in Valinor. I don’t suppose I’ll ever see him in that form again now.
Suddenly I see Artanis. She is as beautiful as ever, glowing with more power than she ever had before. She has fulfilled her wish. She is a queen now, and a radiant one at that. Better than all of that, she is going home at last, to see all of her siblings and other relations. To see Maitimo. I wish I could attach myself to her spirit and thus escape my curse, but such is beyond my power. Beside her rides Elrond. What an elf-lord he has grown to be. He has come so far from the defiant peredhel I discovered in the ruins of Sirion. His wisdom and power far surpass mine, and his life choices exhibit his superior judgement. Perhaps that is my doing, by showing him what not to be. I cannot count the times I have wished to visit him, but that is not my purpose. It is better for him to think me dead. Soon I will be the last high-elf in Middle Earth. The last rebel in a world intended for men. At least the others will be home safely.
The ship that waits at the harbor sends its own pang of grief through me. It is so like the white ships of the Teleri. I close my eyes against the screams and clashes of steel that flood my memory. Forgive me, I plead, as I have for thousands of years. When I open my eyes, Elrond has almost reached the ship. Before he boards, he turns to look back for a moment. A tear glides silently down my cheek. “Namarie,” I whisper. Suddenly our eyes lock. He couldn’t have heard me, but perhaps he sensed my presence. He was always perceptive. After a moment, he looks away, stepping off the pier. The others board, and the ship begins to sail off into the distance. I stay here, watching, until it vanishes over the horizon. In that moment, I hear a distant voice, singing of freedom in my native tongue. I smile sadly. It is Maitimo’s voice. Though I have no right to, I thank the Valar for this gift. I sigh softly. then turn, vanishing into the darkness of the woods. Perhaps someday, when all have forgotten my bloodstained name, I will return, but for now, at least, I will remain a ghost.