He begins to feel it before they pass through the rain-curtain; tingling at his fingers' ends, joints cracking, knots straining to undo themselves. Elrond and Galadriel exchange glances. Yet for the sake of the Hobbits' Mortal eyes, he holds the power in check, even when he sets foot on Valinor's shore and feels it crackling through him.

At last, high in the hills above Valmar, he is alone; he closes his eyes... and lets go. Feels flesh and bone and sinew falling away, finally parting mortal frame from immortal spirit, an instant of regret – 

He is free.

Welcome home, Olórin.