I was listening to Evanescence and felt like writing something angsty.

Prompt 44: Gift
Ficlet: Giving Back the Gift
Rating: G
Minas Tirith, Late February 120 FA

"I am the last of the Númenóreans and the latest King of the Elder Days; and to me has been given not only a span thrice that of Men of Middle-earth, but also the grace to go at my will, and give back the gift." -The Tale of Aragorn and Arwen

The King of the Reunited Kingdom was sitting in an armchair near the fire, a piece of needlework in his hands. It was crude and obviously the work of a beginner, but he treasured it as dearly as the embroidery his own wife did. It was the first piece dear Melian had done, and the young girl had decided to give it to her great-great grandfather.

Great-great grandfather. What a title to bear. It was one that he most cherished, yet it was one that made him think on a day that was soon to come.

Melian was his first great-great grandchild, and already another was on the way. If all went well, the baby was due for the summer. However, he was not sure he would live to see that day.

Aragorn was no dotard; he knew that he was long past his prime, and that Eldarion, if need had come, was ready to ascend the throne decades ago. His son was everything he could have hoped for, and more. The people loved him, and Aragorn knew that he and his wife would rule well.

The man sighed as he glanced down at the small piece of needlework once more. He knew that very, very soon it would be time to go. He would not be remembered as an old man who lingered past his time, but rather as one who embraced life and accepted death as a part of it.

No, death was not difficult to accept. He had lived a long and fulfilling life. The hardest part about this affair would be telling Arwen that he had made his choice.