Though many Elves have departed over-sea, others still remain here at the Grey Havens. Not least amongst them is our lord, Círdan, who waits for the last ship to sail to the West.

Alas, for some of the halls and chambers built at the end of the First Age are now empty and silent; ever the Elves dwindle whilst the race of Men grows and prospers. Yet many Elves remain here, and our numbers are at times grown by our cousins who have come from Lothlórien and The Greenwood beyond the Mountains.

Yet often they tarry here for awhile, resisting the call of the sea and rejoicing in song and the small crafts that we undertake here. For though the great masters of smith-craft and jewelry have passed over sea or been taken by the darkness, we still strive to some small artistry here, and above all in ship-craft.

Never will the first ships of the Teleri be improved upon, but they were burnt long ago in moments of rash deeds, and each ship we now launch, being the fruit of many years of our labour, is a fitting monument to those ancient works.

The Fourth Age finds us surrounded by friendly lands, for with the fall of Barad-dûr and all of its master's works peace came again to the Northern lands, and the King Elessar brought a new order to the Northern Kingdom of Arnor. Fornost Erain, city of the old kings, has been rebuilt and, we are told, plans are afoot to restore the ancient city Annúminas by Lake Evendim to its former glory. These are glad tidings, for it was a beautiful city and held a great store of knowledge in its famous library, though none know if it survived the fall of Arthedain.

Yet the skies are not always clear, and evil will gather in the shadows whilst men and Elves rest. Mariners from the south come to us with tidings that the Corsairs of Umbar are abroad again, harrying the coasts and attempting piracy where they may. And whispers of Orcs are heard from those few dwarves that come trading iron and gold from the Ered Luin, or Rangers come from beyond the North Downs where once was Angmar of old.

The Eastern road remains free of threat, passing to the Tower Hills where our neighbours, the Hobbits have enlarged their realm of The Shire. They are a peaceful and curious folk. Having won renown for their deeds in the War of the Ring they have fallen back into obscurity and seek no more than to tend their lands in isolation. Yet occasionally we will pass through their quiet forests and fields, when the wandering mood takes us, and those few Hobbits that stray outside are glad to see even a fleeting glimpse of Elven-kind.

"And when they had passed from the Shire, going about the south skirts of the White Downs, they came to the Far Downs, and to the Towers, and looked on the distant Sea; and so they rode down at last to Mithlond, to the Grey Havens in the long firth of Lune."

- The Return of the King