On the dock, Gandalf, Elrond, Galadriel, and Legolas were already waiting.
Their smiles were bright, and a peaceful, joyful aura surrounded them as they warmly welcomed Sylas and his family.
"Welcome, my friends!" Gandalf said with a laugh.
Clad in pure white robes, he radiated gentle light, his eyes shining like distant stars. Looking at this familiar yet profoundly changed Gandalf, Sylas could feel an immense power within him, vast, serene, and perfectly restrained.
"Gandalf, my old friend," Sylas said with a delighted smile as he embraced him. "You look so different now that I almost didn't recognize you."
Then he asked curiously, "But how did you know we would arrive today?"
Gandalf chuckled and winked.
"I happen to be on rather good terms with the Lord of the Western Seas," he said lightly. "He informed me that you had finally sailed west. So I arranged for us to welcome you here at Swan Harbor."
He gestured toward Galadriel with a knowing smile.
"And Lady Galadriel foresaw your arrival long ago. So naturally, we came together."
After greeting Gandalf, Sylas turned to Elrond and bowed respectfully.
"Lord Elrond, it is a joy to meet you again in the Blessed Realm."
Elrond smiled warmly, his expression gentle and composed.
"Was the journey smooth, Sylas?"
"Relatively so," Sylas replied. "Aside from a month of relentless rain, there were no real obstacles."
Then his gaze shifted to the graceful elf woman standing beside Elrond. She had long golden hair and a face that resembled Arwen in many subtle ways. Sylas already knew the answer before he asked.
"And this must be…?"
Elrond's eyes softened.
"This is my wife, Celebrian."
Sylas inclined his head respectfully.
"Greetings, Lady Celebrian. It is an honor."
Celebrian smiled gently, her gaze warm and kind.
"I have heard much about you, Sylas," she said. "And I am very glad to see you here at last."
Long ago, during her travels between Rivendell and Lórien in the Central Continent, Celebrian had been captured by orcs and cruelly tormented. Though rescued by her sons Elladan and Elrohir, her wounds, both of body and spirit, had been too severe to heal in Middle-earth. She had been forced to sail west to Valinor for recovery.
Now, after many long years in the Blessed Realm, all traces of that suffering were gone. She stood serene and radiant, her presence filled with quiet peace.
When she looked at Sylas, her son-in-law, her expression carried deep satisfaction.
"Welcome, Sylas," she said softly.
Then she turned fully toward Arwen, opening her arms without hesitation.
"Arwen, my beloved daughter… how have you been all these years?"
At the sight of her mother, Arwen's composure finally broke. Tears welled in her eyes as she let go of Sylas's hand and stepped forward like a child returning home, throwing herself into Celebrian's embrace.
No one interrupted. Gandalf, Elrond, Galadriel, and Legolas all smiled quietly, allowing mother and daughter their reunion.
After some time, Arwen reluctantly stepped back, her cheeks flushed.
She then gently pulled Elroth forward.
"Mother, this is Elroth, my eldest son with Sylas."
Elroth bowed slightly, a little shy but sincere.
"Grandmother, it's an honor to meet you."
Celebrian studied him with clear affection, then smiled warmly.
"He is a wonderful young man. Arwen, you raised him well."
Then her gaze shifted, searching.
"And… isn't there also a daughter? Elseth? Why do I not see her?"
The cheerful atmosphere faltered.
Arwen's smile stiffened slightly as she answered,
"She did not come with us this time."
At those words, Elrond's brow furrowed, and Galadriel's expression grew solemn.
"Sylas," Elrond asked quietly but urgently, "what happened? Did Elseth choose the fate of mortals and remain in the Central Continent?"
Elrond loved his granddaughter deeply. When he had not seen her earlier, unease had already taken root. Now, hearing her absence explained, sorrow stirred in his heart.
Sylas shook his head.
"No," he said calmly. "Elseth did not choose mortality."
He paused, then continued,
"She chose to remain behind to protect the Wood Elves of Lórien. She could not abandon them. Elseth is now the Queen of Lórien."
At this, Elrond and Galadriel both exhaled quietly. Their expressions softened, relief easing the tension in their eyes.
As long as she remained an elf, alive, enduring, and true to herself, they could accept the distance.
Though unwilling to be separated, they respected Elseth's choice, just as they had respected so many others across the long ages.
Gently, the elders guided the conversation away from sorrow, restoring a lighter tone.
And so, beneath the golden light of Swan Harbor, Sylas, Arwen, and Elroth were reunited at last with old friends, and family.
Among the people present, Gandalf now resided in Wilma, the principal city of Valinor and one of the primary dwellings of the High Elves. Elrond and Galadriel, on the other hand, lived in the city of Lickan, closer to the inner lands of Aman. As for Legolas, he had chosen to settle on Thor Island, southeast of Swan Harbor, a place where Elves of different kindreds lived together in harmony.
To welcome Sylas, Arwen, and Elroth, they had all gathered here at Swan Harbor, the ancient residence of the Teleri Elves, coming from their respective homes across Valinor.
Sylas looked around, his gaze instinctively searching the crowd. After a moment, he frowned slightly and asked,
"Where are Bilbo and Frodo? Where are they now?"
Logically speaking, given Bilbo's close relationship with him, if news of their arrival had spread, Bilbo should have been among the first to come. The absence felt wrong.
Before anyone could answer, the atmosphere subtly changed.
Silence fell.
Legolas lowered his eyes, and after a brief pause, he spoke in a restrained, sorrowful voice:
"Bilbo, Frodo, and even Gimli… they have all passed away."
For the first time since arriving in Valinor, Sylas's expression faltered.
"What?" he said sharply, disbelief evident in his voice.
"How could that be possible? I prepared enough for them."
He frowned deeply.
"The Elixir of Immortality, I left a large supply with Bilbo. Before you and Garmoli departed Middle-earth, I even entrusted you with additional vials. It should have been more than enough for them to live until I arrived. How could they have died?"
Gandalf sighed softly, his expression gentle but solemn.
"Sylas," he said slowly, "Bilbo and Frodo were Hobbits who found contentment easily."
He looked toward the distant hills of Valinor.
"They lived in Valinor for many centuries. They enjoyed peace, healing, and a tranquility beyond anything they had known in Middle-earth. In time, their hearts were satisfied."
Gandalf paused, then continued:
"Eventually, they chose to stop taking the elixir. Not out of despair, but acceptance. They wished to continue their journey onward, freely, without clinging to unending life."
Sylas fell silent.
"And Gimli?" he asked quietly.
Gandalf nodded.
"Gimli also refused the elixir."
He smiled faintly, tinged with sadness.
"Valinor is beautiful, but it was never his home. There were no halls of stone, no voices of his people, no forges echoing with the sound of hammers. Though he had friends here, he felt a deep loneliness."
"So he chose to walk his own path," Gandalf continued.
"He went to the Halls of Mandos, to reunite with the spirits of his fellow Dwarves."