#i've been filling prompts for the event for the past month and have crossposted all of my current fills to ao3 but forgot to crosspost here

[emyn-arnens]

west, west away

written for the Three Sentence Ficathon on Dreamwidth, also crossposted to AO3

prompt: Tolkien, any, it is strange, living, to journey west

Sam stood on the deck of the Elven ship, feeling small and out of place in the presence of so many great Elves; greatest of all was the Elvenking of Bilbo’s tales, who stood several feet away, gazing at the disappearing haven and the hills encircling it with a strange, sorrowful expression upon his face, as if he felt the same uncomfortable tug of uprooting that Sam did, feeling as if he had been removed from his familiar soil and planted somewhere he didn’t belong—though he wanted with all his heart to sail West and to see Frodo again.

It was strange to think that a king of the Elves might feel as displaced as Sam did, but Sam felt in that moment that he understood the Elvenking, high and lordly though he was: Legolas had spoken at times, in the early days of the quest, of his people’s history and how they had never known any home other than Middle-earth; they did not know the country that lay over the sea that beckoned to the likes of Lady Galadriel, and the longing for it was slow to waken in their hearts.

And Sam guessed that it was for Legolas, too, that sorrow cloaked the Elvenking’s face; his son did not stand at his side on the ship, but dwelt still in Ithilien; with a pang, Sam thought again of his children, who had been the hardest part of leaving the Shire, and with a sudden flush of bravery, he moved to stand at the Elvenking’s side, and looking up into the Elf’s fair, mournful face, he said, “Begging your pardon, sir, but you look a bit down in the mouth, as we say in the Shire, and I thought I might come and share a few words with you, being out of place myself here among all your fine folk”—a blush crept over his face as he realized he was rambling, and he crumpled the band of his hat in his hands as the Elvenking watched him with curiosity—“and what I mean to say is, I understand this sailing West not being what you expect and leaving behind everything you love for something you’ve never clapped eyes on, sir,” he finished, crushing his hat harder between his hands, and a trace of a smile curved the corners of the Elvenking’s mouth.