Chapter 23: Dragons, Silmarilli and Decisions (Part II) Anor had risen and Elrond and Elros were walking back to their tents when a messenger mounted on horseback passed them. The messenger greeted them cordially, continued on to deliver the message and was returning along the path by the time the twins walked past the tent of Gil-Galad.
"You have both been summoned by Eönwë," Gil-Galad greeted them.
Elrond took the small parchment roll from the king and read the words requesting the presence of the sons of Eärendil. "We are expected upon receipt of the message," Elrond said to Elros. "It does not say why we are being summoned."
Elros read it and then shrugged, his appearance nonchalant, but it was clear to Elrond that his brother was as tense as he was. "Breakfast first," decided Elros.
Fed, their hair brushed and braided and their clothing refreshed, the sons of Eärendil walked down the path that led to the camp of the Valar. Many watched them leave, curious, but only Gil-Galad was aware of the summons and his face was carefully impassive. Elrond did not look back, but kept his eyes on the road ahead, until they came to the camp of the Valar.
The structure of the Valar could hardly be called a tent, so magnificent was its façade. Elrond and Elros approached it together, their shoulders nearly touching. Awe and fear consumed them, leaving no room for words, and so they approached silently. Their passage went unchallenged; shining elves with the light of Valinor gleaming in their eyes and Maiar of great power and might watched them pass with looks that hovered between curiosity and an almost paternal love. At last they came to a guard who lifted one hand in a signal to halt, then motioned for them to follow him.
They entered the tent and found it lit more brightly than the outdoors, but the source of the light was neither the beams of Anor nor an external flame. The light seemed to emanate from the beings who sat in the court, and the mightiest of these sat upon a magnificent dais. Despite the glory and beauty of his surrounding, Elrond found that his eye refused to linger on the inanimate objects, for the ones who sat upon the thrones demanded his attention by their mere bearing. In front of the dais sat Eönwë, whom they recognized from the incident the night before.
Eönwë rose, and the guard halted and then turned aside, leaving Elrond and Elros standing together before the Maia. Both knelt and bowed their heads before the dais.
"Rise, sons of Eärendil," said Eönwë. When they had done so he continued, "I am Eönwë, herald of Manwë, the High King of Arda.
"Elrond and Elros, you are begat from the lines of the Eldar Kings and the three houses of the Edain, Fathers of Men. To each kind Ilúvatar has appointed a doom: for the Eldar not to die, but to live bound to Arda for so long as it shall endure, and for the Edain a Gift, to die as mortal beings, and travel beyond the circles of this world upon passing.
"To you of the peredhil a choice of destiny has been granted: You may choose to live and be judged as the Firstborn, or you may choose to live as mortal men. Even as the end of Beleriand draws near, the Edain shall not be forsaken. As heirs of Eärendil you would lead your people in their new land.
"For two days you will consider your choice. On the third day you will choose your destiny.
"Go in peace, sons of Eärendil."
Elrond and Elros bowed and turned, a guard again at their elbow, and they were escorted from the tent. Many eyes followed their departure and as they returned to the camp of Gil-Galad it seemed as if the entire host was gathered, waiting for their return.
The brothers had not yet looked at each other nor spoken a word, both yet overwhelmed by the experience of meeting with Eönwë and the choice they had been given. They entered the camp and Elrond felt a momentary panic fill him as all seemed to be waiting for them to speak. He breathed a sigh of relief as Gil-Galad spoke.
"Elrond, Elros, please come to my tent."
They entered the cool darkness and sat as Gil-Galad motioned to several chairs. Elrond glanced down at his hand and realized it was shaking. He quickly pressed it against his thigh to still it, and felt Elros' hand cover it a moment later. Elros' hand was warm and strong, and Elrond drew comfort from his brother's touch, as he knew Elros did from his. He heard laughter, and finally turned to look at his twin.
Elros was laughing. His grey eyes were twinkling and his body shaking as mirth overcame him. Elrond felt himself drawn in by the absurdity of it all, and began to laugh as well. Finally, tears streaming down their faces, they calmed.
"I feel much better now," sighed Elros.
"As do I," agreed Elrond.
"Good. Now, are you ready to tell what has happened?" Gil-Galad asked, amused.
Elrond exchanged a quick glance with his twin, both of their faces sobering immediately. As Elrond was pondering how to answer the question, Elros spoke.
"The herald of Manwë has informed us that being half-elven, we must choose with which kindred we are to be judged. We may live as the Firstborn, or choose to be mortal men. The Edain are to be given a new land, and if we choose that fate we would lead them in this new place."
"When must you make this choice?" asked Gil-Galad, his face suddenly serious.
"In three days," replied Elros.
Gil-Galad was silent for a few moments, then spoke cautiously, "I encourage you to speak to those with whom you might have questions as you make this choice. To be allowed to choose your destiny. . . perhaps none can truly understand what you are facing as the fate of mortals is not known to us." He paused, seemingly at a loss for words. "Take what time you need," he finished, then quietly left the tent.
Elros rose immediately, and with a final squeeze of his brother's hand left the tent as well.
Elrond breathed a long sigh, grateful for the quiet and calm. Standing amidst all that power and grandeur had been overwhelming, but the choice was not. There was only one choice - they had been born and raised amongst the elves. While Elrond respected Men and had even come to love them, he was not one of them.
* * *
Elros left the king's tent and walked to his own, finding it amongst the tents of men whom he had led and fought with for these last many years. After Tauron had been killed, he had taken leadership of the main army of Men. The men were brave and courageous fighters, and Elros took pride in their abilities.
He thought back over the meeting with Eönwë. The herald had seemed to look within him, into his very soul, and a great promise had been communicated to him. 'You will lead your people in their new land.' The words were meant for him. At some point in this war Elros knew that the Men had become his people. For a great many years he had felt a kinship with them, even before the war, but it had heightened as they fought together and become sealed in his heart in the battle in which Tauron died. He was one of them.
As he confirmed his choice in his heart a great pain nearly overwhelmed him, for although he knew he must choose as his heart led him, he also knew his choice would separate him forever from the one he loved most in the world.
* * *
Elros awoke early on that third day, and was sitting at his table preparing himself for the meeting with Eönwë when Gil-Galad entered his tent unannounced. The king motioned for him to stay seated when he pushed his chair back to stand, and instead sat down across from him. Their eyes met, and Elros saw the pain in Gil-Galad's. Elros lowered his gaze. Neither spoke for a few moments.
"Elrond is blind to your destiny," Gil-Galad finally said, and there was no question in his voice.
"Yes," whispered Elros. He took a deep breath, "Whether he truly does not see it or chooses not to see it, I do not know."
Gil-Galad reached out and took both of Elros' hands in his own. "You will make a fine leader, Elros, of a fine people. Your grandsire Tuor and great-grandsire Beren would be proud to see you take the mantle of leadership of their houses. From your line a great people will grow."
Elros rose and allowed Gil-Galad to envelop him in a warm embrace, and tears slipped unashamedly from both of their eyes.
"You and Círdan have been as fathers to me, and I will miss you both," Elros said, his voice rough. "You raised me to be who I am today." He paused. "Elrond will not…," Elros' voice broke, "he will not understand, Gil-Galad. Please help him to understand."
Gil-Galad stroked the dark hair, pride and grief and love for both of the children he had helped raise flowing through him. "I will try, Elros. I will try," he promised.
* * *
Many eyes watched as the peredhil twins walked the long path to Eönwë's tent. Word had quietly spread of the decision the two would need to make, and although not discussed in their presence, it had been heavily debated and discussed among both the hosts of Beleriand and the hosts of the Valar. The elves of Aman had been unfamiliar with Men prior to the War, and were curious about them, impressed with the valor with which they fought and gave their mortal lives.
Elrond felt the eyes on him, but felt less apprehension than he had the first time they had trod this path. They were led inside by the same guard, and bowed low before Eönwë again. His powerful voice soon filled the tent.
"Rise, sons of Eärendil. On this day you are summoned to choose your destiny. Are you prepared to make your decision on this day?"
"Yes," the twins answered in unison.
"Elrond, son of Eärendil, son of Tuor and Idril of Gondolin; and Elwing, daughter of Nimloth and Dior, son of Beren and Lúthien, daughter of Melian of Doriath, how do you so choose?"
"I choose to be counted among the Firstborn, my Lord," answered Elrond solidly.
"Your fate shall be of the Eldar, Elrond Peredhil," Eönwë answered, with a slight nod of his head. "The west is open to you, and I bid you hearken to my call to live in the peace and tranquility of that land."
"Elros, son of Eärendil, son of Tuor and Idril of Gondolin; and Elwing, daughter of Nimloth and Dior, son of Beren and Lúthien, daughter of Melian of Doriath, how do you so choose?"
"I choose to be counted as a mortal man," answered Elros.
Elrond jerked his head to the side, but Elros was focused on Eönwë; indeed, he seemed held in place by the eye of the herald of the High King.
"Your fate shall be as that of Men," answered Eönwë. "A new land will be prepared for you, and you will be its first King, Elros, son of Eärendil. Long life you will be given, but the Gift of Ilúvatar not even Manwë may renounce."
Elrond felt the sights and sounds of the tent recede, and even the voice of Eönwë dimmed and vanished from his mind. He felt the ground shake and then someone steady him as he swayed. He reached for his brother, but the farther he reached the farther away Elros seemed to be. He saw the pain in his brother's eyes, saw Elros stretching his hand out to him too, but he could not reach him. Pain gripped him, squeezing his chest, forcing the air from his lungs and refusing to allow another breath to be taken. He felt his heart would burst, and he clutched at his tunic as if to throw off the vise that held him so tightly. Instead the vise tightened, and to that unrelenting pain Elrond succumbed.
* * *
Elros was held in Eönwë's gaze as the Maia spoke his fate. When Eönwë released him he bowed his head, and then turned to his brother, ready to face the disbelief and hurt that he was sure would greet him. Instead he saw Elrond falling, one hand reaching for him, his name on his brother's lips, while Elrond's other hand clutched his tunic over his heart.
Elros' mouth gaped open as the most beautiful female he had ever seen easily picked up his brother, and carried him to a private antechamber set up nearby. Elros did not remember it having been there before. He attempted to follow, but found Eönwë at his side, gently holding him in place. He clenched his jaw, tears pooling in his eyes.
"Estë has come for him, and Nienna waits for him," said Eönwë kindly. "Their comfort and healing will sustain him."
"They are Valar," breathed Elros in awe.
"Yes," said Eönwë simply. "Elrond was unprepared, as we knew he would be. The bond you share has been partially sundered, and his spirit, being of the Eldar, has felt it keenly. You also feel the pain, but are better prepared."
"I did not wish to cause my brother such pain," Elros said, a single tear slipping down his cheek.
"Arda has been marred and pain will always be with those who reside here. If Elrond hearkens to my call to sail West, he will be healed there and live in peace," answered Eönwë gently. "Come. You and I have much to discuss about the lands being prepared for you."
Elros allowed himself to be led away, but to his sorrow, when he felt for the bond with his brother, he found himself unable to discern the state of Elrond's well being. The bond had already diminished.
* * *
Gil-Galad looked up for what felt like hundredth time that afternoon, wishing to see Elrond and Elros coming down the path from the camp of the Valar. They had been gone for hours and his concern was growing. Celeborn had come and gone twice, organizing the warriors into groups to prepare for departure. The earthquakes and floods continued, the sea drawing ever nearer, while the elves stood watch on the high cliffs.
With a sigh, Gil-Galad returned his attention to the reports in his hands. Elven slaves had escaped from Angband when the mountains were thrown down. Many were Noldor - his people, taken from the Noldor strongholds - and others were Falathrim - Círdan's people captured at the Falas. They would nearly all sail west with the Valar, their hurts and pain only able to be healed there. Círdan had sent word that he had begun filling the ships with people as the lowlands began to sink into the sea. The Teleri from Valinor were tending the freed slaves and would begin transport of them to Tol Eressëa. Calendîn had sent his people east to their usual homes in Ossiriand only to receive news that the Blue Mountains were breaking apart near the Ascar River.
Gil-Galad stared towards the camp again, but no movement was to be seen or sound to be heard. He forced his thoughts back to the matters at hand, of those who might need homes yet in Middle-earth when the destruction ended. Homes for elves who would not heed the call of the Valar. Tol Eressëa was open to them, they were promised, a place where they could build their own cities and harbors. They could then all come to Valinor, even the exiles, for the ban was lifted and they were forgiven.
Most of the Noldor would go and some of the Sindar, but many of the Moriquendi would not leave their homes. Many like himself, Gil-Galad thought, who were born in Middle-earth amidst her wars and struggles, wished to live in the only home they had known in peace.
If he were honest with himself, he might admit that he did not wish to move to a settled land full of Kings and Princes, where he would have no people to serve and no lands to rule.
"Gil-Galad!"
Elros' voice broke through his thoughts and he looked up to see Elros finally approaching him. He seemed excited, yet Elrond was not with him.
"Elros, come and tell me what has happened," answered Gil-Galad, relief in his voice. He stood to lead Elros into his tent, then looked once more down the path. "Is Elrond coming?"
Elros shook his head and lightly touching Gil-Galad's elbow, let him lead into his tent. Gil-Galad frowned but entered, seating himself and motioning for Elros to sit.
"I have been sitting all afternoon," Elros declined the offer. "I have much to tell you." He seemed then to note the concern on the King's face. "I will start with Elrond. He remains with the Valar, and they will continue to watch over him for the rest of the day. I was not allowed to see him, but Eönwë had word sent before I left. Gil-Galad, I have caused my brother great pain."
Gil-Galad had watched the excitement left Elros' face as he pushed aside his news in favor of delivering the news of his twin first. Despite his earlier statement, Elros now sat, and he even slumped slightly in the chair.
"We knew your choice would be difficult for Elrond to accept," agreed Gil-Galad.
"It is more than that," explained Elros, grief in his voice. "The bond we share as twins was partially sundered when Eönwë accepted my decision and pronounced my fate. Elrond looked as if he were stricken with great pain, as if I had stabbed him through the heart. He was reaching for me, and I could not help him. Estë appeared, and carried him away to Nienna. They are tending him."
Gil-Galad sighed and closed his eyes. The image of the twins at the age of five, when Maglor had freed them, came to mind. He recalled his thoughts then, about how young they were to have lost so much. So many bonds broken - no parents, no grandparents and then even Maglor who had loved them gave them up. The weeks and months of investment in those small children had led to great reward as they grew older and seemed secure. Neither Círdan nor Gil-Galad had over-protected them, for the world they lived in was one of sorrow and grief. But this pain Gil-Galad would have spared them if he could. Choosing different Kindreds for their destiny would separate them for all eternity, or at least until the end of Arda.
A hand covered his, drawing him back to the present. He opened his eyes to see Elros kneeling before him.
"I did not wish to harm him," whispered Elros. "If I had known of this sundering pain, I might have chosen differently."
Gil-Galad shook his head at the words. "No, Elros. That would be the wrong reason to make your choice. In your heart you know you have made the right decision. Hidden in your eyes I see great joy at news you have received. Elrond is in the care of the Valar. Tell me your news now."
A grin spread across Elros's face, and he sat down across from Gil-Galad. "A land is being prepared for us to the west. It will be an island, nearer to Valinor than to Middle-earth. Andor the Valar call it, for it is a Gift of Land to Men. I have been named her first King. The Valar will prepare the land for us, and when it is ready they will calm the seas and the star of Eärendil will guide us there. I am mortal, Gil-Galad, but the Valar have promised long life to me and my descendents."
Gil-Galad stood, drawing Elros to his feet as well, and he clasped arms with him saying, "King Elros! Congratulations!" Then he had him in a bear hug, holding him tight. "Imagine a land free of evil and deception, Elros. You will be able to build and sail and do all that you have dreamed!"
Elros laughed then, the happiness and cheer in him obvious. "Eönwë will announce this to the Men in the coming days, and when we move to Andor, Eönwë himself will come to aid us."
When Celeborn returned, he found Gil-Galad and Elros sharing a triumphant cup of wine, and Elros was only too happy to pour another cup and repeat his news.
* * *
Elrond awoke in the warm glow of firelight, a thick blanket covering him. The bed was softer and more comfortable than anything he had slept on since leaving Balar decades earlier. A dull ache within notified him that all was not well, and he began to wonder where he was and why. He started to sit up, but found himself restrained by a slim hand on his shoulder.
His mind was unable to form words adequate to describe the ethereal beauty and tranquility of the female before him. Stunned, he lay silent as she moved to kneel gracefully next to the bed.
"I am Estë," she said in a low, musical voice. She ran her fingers across his forehead and then down to cup his cheek. He could feel a soft probe of his heart and something told him she had been there before.
A rush of memory came to him then, of the words Elros spoke and the crushing pain that had overwhelmed him. With the memory came a sudden resurgence of that pain and he gasped aloud before he could even think to stifle the sound. Almost immediately he felt a soothing calm brush his spirit and he heard the Vala speak, "Calm, Elrond. Allow the pain to flow through you."
The pain diminished but did not leave, and when he focused his eyes on the healer again he saw not a face of tranquility, but one of great power and determination. Her eyes were like fire then and he felt her strength flow into him as well.
"Elrond, son of Eärendil, your heart bears many wounds, the scars of many losses. These wounds cannot be fully healed in Middle-earth." Estë's voice wove a melody about the words that surrounded and enveloped him. "The cares of this world will weigh upon you and crush your hope if you do not learn to temper your desires and rest and refresh your own spirit."
Elrond felt as if he were floating on air, mesmerized by the sound of her voice, and yet her words confused him. "I do not understand, my lady," he whispered.
A hooded figure appeared next to Estë, and Elrond never saw the face of the one hidden within. Her voice was haunting, and he sensed a deep sorrow within her. She raised his hand in her own and Elrond's eyes opened wide in surprise as he felt her tears dampen his skin.
"I am Nienna, son of Eärendil. For the marring of Arda I grieve, and for all that is blemished and lost I mourn. Hearken to me, Elrond," she commanded gently, "for it is through pity you shall replenish your own soul. You shall find hope through endurance, and in compassion for all who come into your care you shall find strength."
A tear slipped from Elrond's eye as his grief began anew. "My brother will be lost to me forever," he said as the understanding of Eönwë's pronouncement settled upon him. Nienna bent over him and he felt her tears fall softly to mingle with his own. He felt strangely comforted and his grief lessened as she spoke above him.
"Mourn freely, my child, for in this you will receive comfort."
An understanding began to grow within Elrond, and as the meaning Estë and Nienna intended dawned on him, they both rose, and with final caresses that touched his face and delved deep into his soul, they departed. Elrond felt a great peace wash over him at their touch, and he slipped into a deep, healing sleep.
* * *
Gil-Galad and Celeborn spent the night seated beneath the starry sky. They had toasted Elros as Anor set, and the new young king drifted into sleep as Ithil began her night's travel and Eärendil sailed overhead, the Silmaril shining gloriously and triumphantly down upon them. Few words were spoken between them, and it was Celeborn who broke the long hours of comfortable silence as Anor's light first broke upon the horizon to their east.
"The sea does not hold sway with me and Valinor is not my home. For many an age we lived in twilight, but with Anor came evil and destruction. Morgoth is vanquished now, and we shall see what is new under the sun in the lands to the east, on the paths our forefathers walked so long ago."
"I am glad you will be here with me," answered Gil-Galad with a smile.
A grin spread across Celeborn's face. "Aye, this land yet needs a king, my friend."
Their decisions made and announced at least to each other, they resumed their patient waiting. A short while after Anor became fully visible, Elrond appeared on the path, finally returning from his audience with Eönwë.
Gil-Galad rose, but his greeting faltered as he found himself fumbling for words. Elrond was no longer a child, even in the eyes of the elves. Despite the irrationality of the thought, Gil-Galad felt he had failed him. He had seen this painful separation coming, and yet not prepared Elrond to face it. But as Elrond drew near, he merely folded him into his arms and held him tight.
"I am sorry I could not spare you this pain," he whispered in Elrond's ear.
Elrond did not answer, but instead drew in a deep breath and steadied himself. He pulled back, and turned to greet Celeborn. The words died on his lips as he looked beyond the elf, and Gil-Galad and Celeborn both turned to see Elros step from the tent.
The twins stood facing one another, a distance between them now where once there had been no separation. Elros took a step forward, but stopped as he saw a shadow of pain cross Elrond's face. Elrond's hand again clutched at his heart, but only the sounds of his deep ragged breaths could be heard. As they watched, he seemed to gain control, and he took the next few steps forward and in only a moment had his brother in his arms. Elros' control broke then and he clutched his twin as tears streamed down his face. In that moment all was forgiven between the brothers, and they held each other as if it were their last day together.
* * *
Elrond slipped from the warmth of the tent into the coolness of the night air as the others continued to discuss the future, grateful that no one stopped him. His emotions were in great conflict, and he hoped that some time to reflect on the last two days would help to give him perspective.
Eönwë had summoned Elros at dusk, and together they had gone to speak to the Men. Elros had been flushed, excited, and Eönwë's eyes had twinkled, reflecting Elros' excitement in his otherwise peaceful countenance. Elrond had forced himself to smile and laugh with the others, when inside he felt as if a part of him had died. He hoped he had appeared genuine in his joy at Elros' good fortune and happiness, and in truth he was glad for his brother. Now, however, he wished to be alone.
He walked slowly down to the same rock he had leaned against the night before, and with great weariness sank down upon it. He turned himself around slowly, until he faced west, and let his thoughts drift to Valinor. When he had awakened in the early morning hours, one of the Noldor elves of Aman had brought him food and drink. While Elrond ate, the elf told him about the peace and beauty of the land of the Valar. All hurts were healed there, and the elf told him he would feel young again. Elrond had not bothered to tell the elf that in the eyes of the elves he had only just recently reached his majority - that he was young. Then Eönwë had summoned him once again, and spoke words whose meaning Elrond did not understand.
"The way West will ever be open to you, son of Eärendil. Yet your destiny lies in the shared blood of the Secondborn. Hearken to Nienna, Elrond, and you will find your way."
I do not feel called to Valinor, he thought. Perhaps I am too young, or not weary enough of Middle-earth. He turned, looking east, to the tent of the King. Gil-Galad had not talked about whether he would sail west. He did not know what Círdan would do. He did not think Celeborn would go. What would I do if I stayed here?
He sensed the presence of another before he felt a hand come to rest on his shoulder, the comforting touch of one he knew well. He instinctively leaned into the touch, suddenly finding he did not desire to be alone.
"May I join you?" asked Gil-Galad.
Elrond nodded gratefully, and Gil-Galad sat down beside him. They were quiet for a moment, staring at the western horizon, and then Gil-Galad began to speak.
"Many are preparing to sail West, eager to begin new lives on Tol Eressëa. Some will be reunited with families long parted, and others seek the peace and healing promised to them. The Sea calls to them and their hearts are turned ever westward."
"Your heart, Gil-Galad, is it called west?" Elrond asked quietly.
"No, it is not," sighed Gil-Galad. "Others will stay, as will I. I will build a new Kingdom, Elrond, and explore the lands to the east of the Blue Mountains. Our people will increase again, children will be born and grow up without the threat of Morgoth that has shadowed this last age. We will live and not just survive."
Elrond was silent, but he felt a new tug on his heart, and realize it was hope.
"If you decide that your heart is also not called West, Elrond, I would hope that you would come and build this new Kingdom with me."
He drew in a deep breath, ensuring he had control of his emotions, and then turned slightly to face Gil-Galad. "I would be glad to still call you my king," he answered.
"Then come, my son, for you need to sleep so that tomorrow we may begin planning for our future," said Gil-Galad as he wrapped an arm around Elrond's shoulders and pulled him from the rock. "I am sure Círdan is already searching for a worthy port."
"Círdan will stay?" asked Elrond hopefully.
"Círdan will not leave these shores yet, not while there are elves left who wish to dwell here," answered Gil-Galad.
Elrond realized that the pain in his chest had lessened as he and Gil-Galad had talked, and a momentary panic rose in him - that he also could not sense Elros' presence. But as he thought about his twin, he realized the bond they shared was still present, merely diminished, and he took comfort in the ache he could feel in heart. It was emptiness he would fear, for then he would know Elros was truly separated from him forever.
~ ~ ~* * *~ ~ ~
Elrond finished speaking and the room remained silent, as all seemed lost in their own thoughts. A small hand covered his then and tugged, and Elrond was surprised to realize that his own hand was twisted in the fabric of his tunic over his heart. Elladan was pulling on Elrond's hand, and when Elrond looked down at his son, the child's expression reminded him of Elros - a mixture of fierce determination and stubbornness and love. Elrond forced his fingers to relinquish the fabric and instead engulfed Elladan's small hand in his own.
"All is well, Elladan," he said soothingly.
"But it was not well, Ada," argued Elladan. "Your brother hurt you and brothers should not do that."
"I do not think Uncle Elros meant to hurt Ada," Elrohir broke in. "He did not hurt Ada . . . intentionally."
"Sometimes we make choices that cause others pain, but if it is the right choice," explained Elrond, pausing as his own thought seemed to stun him, "then you must make it regardless of the pain it causes."
"Was Elros' choice the right one, Ada?" Elrohir asked.
Elrond felt his breath catch as the pain and emptiness in the spot of his fëa reserved for Elros swept over him. His mind flew over several thousand years of history, of the rise and fall of Númenor, and the rise of the Kingdoms of men in Middle-earth. He thought of how men and elves had stood and fought together, how the weakness of one man had destined them to have to fight again one day. But did the current state of the Men of Westernesse reflect whether Elros' decision was right? Would another have been named King if he had not? Would he have been as good a leader as Elros? Better? Worse? How was he to know if Elros' choice was right?
"I think it is too . . .," began Elrond, his voice trailing off. He drew in a deep breath and looked at his sons, now both clinging tightly to him. "Elros believed it was the right choice." He raised his eyes to meet those of Celeborn and Galadriel, who had joined them midway into the story. Galadriel's mind brushed his and he heard her words repeated, 'Elros was a man. He had to choose the destiny that fit who he was.'
"It was the right choice," Elrond finally admitted. He felt tears welling in his eyes, and then heard Celeborn and Galadriel coaxing his children from his arms with promises of bedtime snacks and more stories about the dragons. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and then felt the soft, soothing, loving touch of his wife on his body and in his heart. He wrapped his arms about her as she curled up next to him.
"The husband I love has been shaped by pain and separation and loss," Celebrían whispered in his ear, her breath warm on his cheek, "but more so he has been tempered and refined into the finest gold by mourning and compassion and hope."
They sat in silence for a while, the room darkening as Anor was hidden behind the steep slopes of their secluded valley. Glorfindel had left them quietly, his eyes dark with emotion. Alone with his wife, Elrond twisted strands of Celebrían's hair around his fingers, watching as it sprang free each time he let the end loose. He smiled at the low sound coming from her.
"You, dear wife, are purring," he laughed.
"And I shall growl if you remove your fingers," she threatened playfully. She then turned to him, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Elrond, I understand what Eönwë might have meant by telling you to hearken to Nienna, that she would help you find your way, for I see evidence of this in your life. But what did Eönwë mean by saying that your destiny lies in the shared blood of the Secondborn?"
"I do not know," answered Elrond honestly. "Perhaps he meant in the alliance of men and elves, or maybe it is something yet unseen. Isildur may have failed, but there is still strength in the blood of Men. They may yet rise to some great deed, and perhaps our fates will again join together."
Careful to keep one hand stroking her hair, Elrond pulled Celebrían to her feet. "Let us put our sons to bed; otherwise questions will bring them to us in the night."
Celebrían's eye lit with pleasure. "That will not do," she answered as she slipped her hand around Elrond's waist. "Your time this night is already claimed."
As they walked down the hall to their sons' bedroom, they heard laughter and arguing pouring from the room. They paused outside the door and Elrond had to purse his lips tightly together to keep from laughing.
Celeborn sat on Elladan's bed and Glorfindel on Elrohir's bed, each with a child in hand, snarling at each other as the twins shouted and bounced in excitement.
"A Balrog is scarier than a dragon!" shouted Elladan, pointing at Glorfindel.
"No, the dragon is!" squealed Elrohir, motioning wildly at his grandfather.
The contest moved from snarling faces to roars and growls, and Celebrían shrugged Elrond's hand from hair. "I will handle this," she said.
She walked calmly into the room, not flinching at the awful sounds coming from her father or the golden one. She held her arms out to Elladan, hugging and kissing him, and then to Elrohir for the same. Glorfindel and Celeborn both quieted, watching her in amusement. When the twins were occupied with saying good night to their father, she whispered something in her father's ear, then Glorfindel's.
Celebrían slipped her arm back through Elrond's then, and they left the room as the twins leaped back on to their storytellers. Elrond glanced back once to see looks of pained resignation on the faces of his father-in-law and seneschal.
"What did you say to them?" he asked.
Celebrían smiled sweetly. "Nothing, meleth-nín, but we will not be disturbed this night."
* * * * *
meleth-nín = my love
Author's Notes:
From the Silmarillion, the 'Valaquenta':
Estë the gentle, healer of hurts and weariness, is one of the Valar. She resides in the gardens of Lórien with her spouse Irmo, the master of dreams and visions. The gift of Estë is rest.
Nienna is sister to Mandos and Irmo, and dwells alone. 'She is acquainted with grief, and mourns for every wound that Arda has suffered in the marring of Melkor.' Those who hearken to her learn pity, and endurance in hope. Those in Mandos' Halls cry out to her, 'for she brings strength to the spirit and turns sorrow to wisdom.'
* * * * *
Chapter 24: New Lives * * * * *
Elrond awoke in the early morning hours after only a few hours of rest. He and Celebrían had talked long into the night about Elros, and he felt a wonderful lightness in his spirit. He glanced down at her, peacefully sleeping, and tenderly stroked her hair from her face, then bent and kissed her. She stirred, but did not wake, and he smiled as he considered his silver queen. She seemed to know just what questions to ask to cause him to remember something special about his twin, or to recall a wonderful memory of something they had done together.
He had never talked about Elros this much to anyone, and had not thought this much about their younger years together in a very long time. Through the second age discussions about Elros had been about his kingdom, about Númenor, or his people, but seldom about Elrond and Elros as brothers, as twins. Only with Gil-Galad or Círdan had he spoken personally of Elros, for they missed him too. But now his wife and his sons wanted to know their husband and father - what was important to him, what he thought, what he felt, whom he loved, what had made him happy and what had caused him pain.
I did not realize that in the silence about us as brothers I had again grown bitter and resentful about losing him, he thought. I have long known that Elros made the only choice he could make; yet it seemed like a new revelation to me. I cannot let this happen again. Elrond glanced at his wife and smiled, for he knew she would not let him.
He rose and dressed in the darkness, the sun's light barely peeking through the trees on the cliff above them, and decided to check on his sons. He had been surprised that with the Balrog and Dragon roaring contest the night before, he and Celebrían had not ended up with one, if not both, of their sons in their bed. He entered their room quietly, and nearly burst out laughing.
Glorfindel lay on his side on Elrohir's bed, his knees bent and touching one end of the bed while his head was pushed up against the other. Elrohir was spooned up against his chest, his hands wrapped in the long golden mane of hair, pulling it around him like a blanket and cuddling it to his chin. Celeborn had apparently given up such contortions, and lay on the floor next to Elladan's bed, Elladan sprawled out on top of him, sound asleep.
Elrond moved first to Elladan, gently prying his fingers from Celeborn's tunic, and then placing the sleeping child in his bed and covering him with his blankets. Elrohir was easier, his small fingers gladly exchanging Glorfindel's hair for his favorite cuddle toy. Elrond stepped back, hands on hips, as the two old elf-lords stood and stretched, and then followed him from the room.
"Your wife is cruel," Celeborn commented as soon as the door closed behind them.
"Your daughter learned from the best," replied Elrond with a grin.
"You are obviously speaking of her mother, as I would not inflict such torture upon another."
"What did she say to you last night?" Elrond asked, curious.
"She thanked us for keeping watch during the night on her impressionable children, who might have scary dreams of balrogs and dragons," said Glorfindel, yawning.
A smile crossed Elrond's face as he considered the Lady of Imladris. A mother lion when it came to her cubs, or himself, he thought wryly, yet she was gracious and hospitable to guests; ran the house as if she had been organizing and caring for many people her whole life; and commanded his warriors - and her father - fearlessly and with great humor. He gave a sigh of satisfaction. Gil-Galad had told him before the war to marry Celebrían, that he would find no greater love and no better wife. Gil-Galad always was a good judge of people, he thought.
"I am going to go soak in the hot spring," said Celeborn.
Glorfindel stretched again, pondering his morning run against the thought of hot water soothing his contorted muscles. "I will join you. So will Elrond," he decided.
Elrond arched a brow in response to his seneschal speaking for him, but decided it did sound like a fine idea.
The baths were quiet at this time of morning, and they had the large hot spring to themselves. The three were quiet for some time, enjoying the soothing warmth in silence. Elrond closed his eyes as his mind reviewed all that he had to do that day, foremost being to check on Albast. He expected improvement today.
"Elladan said last night that he wished he had known King Gil-Galad," said Glorfindel unexpectedly.
Elrond opened an eye and looked at Glorfindel, who was wide awake and watching him closely.
"I wish Gil-Galad could have known my sons," he agreed.
"He would have cherished them like grandsons," said Celeborn.
Elrond opened both eyes and sat up straight. He eyed the two before him, wondering what purpose they had in speaking of something so obvious, yet something which obviously could not be.
"Of this I am sure, but it was not to be," he finally answered.
"But they can know him through your memories," said Celeborn gently.
Elrond closed his eyes again, his fists clenching and unclenching under the surface of the water, as he considered both Celeborn's words and why he spoke them.
"In some ways you have changed little since you were a child," Celeborn continued, his voice soft and unusually gentle. "Even then you held all your emotions inside. Only with Elros would you really let loose and laugh or cry. Gil-Galad was steadfast after Elros departed, and perhaps he was one of the few people who you let get close to you. Now you have Celebrían and Elladan and Elrohir, and you do laugh and you love them, but you have kept part of yourself hidden from them too. Until these history lessons and stories were started, you had not spoken of Gil-Galad or Elros, or of your life before this age."
Elrond's eyes opened in a flash of fury clearly seen by Glorfindel and Celeborn. His anger died, though, as he really looked into the faces before him. He had long been able to read the hearts of others, and what he read here was love and truth. He suddenly wondered why their words had angered him.
"You lost your mentor, friend, king and father on that battlefield a century and a half ago," Glorfindel said. "You have settled back into Imladris, you care for all who pass your way; you have even found love in Celebrían and now you have your own children to love too. You are a fine father and husband; and you lead your people and your house wisely. But you had locked away your old life since returning from Dagorlad. Share your memories of Elros and Gil-Galad. Let others know who they were through your own stories and experiences with them."
Elrond listened to the words and a litany of emotions raced through him, though the shadow that had crossed his face was visible only to those who knew him well. He knew about grief; he had certainly mourned the passing of those he loved. He felt anger that they were bringing this up at all, anger that they would bring it up today after he awoke feeling so refreshed from talking to Celebrían. But were they not saying the same thing he had told himself this morning? Had Celebrían not just said this past night how glad she was that he was sharing this part of his life with her?
He again closed his eyes, and this time they remained mercifully silent as he gathered his thoughts. When he next looked at them, he unshuttered his emotions and they saw the depth of his feeling, the depth of his grief. They had not caused him new wounds with their words; they had merely allowed him to see old wounds that had never fully healed. Gil-Galad's death had been a terrible blow to them all; that he and so many others had died for only a temporary victory only salted the wound.
"You are both right," he finally said with a sigh.
The patter of small feet on the stone interrupted them, and they watched as Elladan and Elrohir flew into the room. Their faces lit up with joy at seeing three of their most favorite people together, and they began stripping off their night tunics immediately. Celebrían entered at a more sedate pace behind them, an indulgent look on her face as her now naked sons jumped into the pool, splashing water over their father, grandfather and Glorfindel.
The twins immediately swam to their father, and Elrond found himself hugging those slippery little bodies close to him. He kissed them each on the head before returning his gaze to Celeborn and Glorfindel.
"For them, Elrond. They deserve to know you and to know about those you loved," Glorfindel finished.
"Your clean clothing is here," Celebrían gained her sons' attention and pointed to the low shelf. "Make sure you wash your hair." With a smile and one last rather maternal sigh at the relaxing elves in the pool, she left the bathing room.
Elrond looked at his sons, now bouncing in the water and splashing water at one another. He smiled as Elladan shrieked when a large hand closed about his foot and his grandfather began pulling him through the water. He did want them to know about Gil-Galad and Elros, and he did want Celeborn and Glorfindel to tell them about Eärendil and Elwing, Tuor and Idril, Dior and Nimloth, Beren and Lúthien and Turgon and Melian and Elu-Thingol. His sons were descendents of people both ordinary and extraordinary, and were fortunate to have elves like Glorfindel and Celeborn who could tell them first hand accounts about their ancestors. The same feeling of lightness he had felt earlier that morning floated over him again, and he slipped under the surface of the water and tickled the bottom of the smaller sets of feet. He heard their delighted cries even below water, and surfaced between them.
"Ada, this is fun! We should all take baths together more often!" Elladan laughed, then splashed water at his father.
Elrond laughed as he agreed, and then began washing his sons' hair. He saw the glance shared between Celeborn and Glorfindel, a rather triumphant look, and then they were climbing from the water, leaving Elrond to finish with his children. He watched them go, silver and gold, and shook his head. They argued and fought like small children sometimes, to the absolute delight of the twins, and yet they were obviously working together when it came to Elrond.
He played with the twins for a while longer, then helped them to dry and dress. As they ran ahead of him to the dining hall, his thoughts turned from Elros and Gil-Galad to Celeborn and Glorfindel, and he smiled. He had been fortunate in each age to have beings such as these around him.
* * *
Elrond heard laughter and talking as he entered the healing rooms, and he was unsurprised to see Albast sitting up in his bed and eating breakfast. A smile lit Albast's face as he saw Elrond, and Elrond noted that the man's color was vastly improved, and his eyes were clear and bright.
"Good morning, Master Elrond," said Albast cheerfully.
"A fine morning it is indeed," replied Elrond, "for you have improved much in the night."
The faces of the healers who had faithfully changed bandages and cared for Albast beamed with pleasure as they stood near him during Elrond's examination. Elrond carefully inspected the wound on his leg that had been responsible for the infection that had nearly claimed his life, pleased when his touch did not cause further pain. He could not help the small smile that tugged at his lips as he ran his fingers lightly over Albast's face and neck, wrists and hands, and down his ribs.
"No fever, no swelling, and well on the mend," he pronounced. "We will recast the leg in several days, and have you on your feet with aid not long after that."
Albast grinned. "Thank you, my lord. I hope I will see my small friends soon, then, too? They are a balm for the soul and their entertainment has helped pass many a long hour."
A true smile did cross Elrond's face then, and his whole demeanor softened. "Elladan and Elrohir have been most concerned for you, and are only awaiting word when they may see you again. They have spent hours planning the picture they will paint on your cast."
As Elrond moved away, he thought how glad he was that there would be a cast for his children to paint. They were so young, and while he would not hide truth from them, he was more than willing to let lessons of mortality wait until they were older. The years of childhood were short enough without adding such burdens.
* * *
Elrohir carefully wrote down his questions, then folded the scrap of parchment and tucked it into his tunic pocket. At a nod from Istuion, the brothers raced out the door, glad to be done with lessons for the day. They ducked under the arms of big elves coming in the front door of the house, and then jumped off the porch and rolled in the sweet smelling green grass.
"Let us go ask Daerada if we can practice archery today," suggested Elladan.
"He will say no," answered Elrohir after a moment's thought.
"We could find Glorfindel and see if we can practice with our training swords."
"He will say no, too."
"How do you know?" asked Elladan in an exasperated tone as he sat up, crossing his arms over his chest and staring at his twin.
"I heard Ada tell them that we could not practice every day. It is not good for our growing bodies and our bones need to rest because they were broken," explained Elrohir.
Elladan flopped back down in the grass, and rolled to lie near his twin. "How do you find out about these things? You knew about Nana and Ada kissing like they did in the library too."
Elrohir shrugged. "I do not know. I just hear things, I guess."
"What other things do you know?"
Elrohir chewed on a blade of grass for a moment, thinking. "Remember how we wondered why Daerada painted a gown on my cast? I heard Daerada telling Daernaneth that Erestor put that dress in Glorfindel's pack."
"Erestor?" said Elladan in disbelief.
"Glorfindel thought Erestor put a gown in his pack, and Erestor thought Glorfindel did something to make his hair smell funny. But Erestor did not do it," replied Elrohir with a giggle.
"Who did?"
"Nana!" answered Elrohir through his laughter.
"But how do you know this?" Elladan sat back up and poked his brother in the shoulder.
"Daernaneth told Daerada that Glorfindel and Erestor were planning to do something and it was exasperating Ada. So Nana got them both first!"
"Our Nana?" asked Elladan incredulously.
"Our Nana!" laughed Elrohir.
"When did you hear this?"
"In the garden yesterday."
"What did Daerada say? Does Glorfindel know? Does Erestor know? Did Daernaneth help?"
Elrohir dissolved in giggles again. He finally sat up, and held up his hand to stop the questions, just like Ada did when he wanted them to stop talking. "Daerada seemed very proud of Nana and said she was a credit to them, whatever that means. I do not know if Glorfindel or Erestor know. But I do not think Daernaneth helped. She did not sound like she did."
Elladan leaned back into the grass again, crossing his hands over his chest as he stared at the bright sky. "Our Nana did that," he repeated proudly.
"We have a very good Nana," agreed Elrohir.
* * *
Dinner was finished, but the twins had not asked to be excused. Instead, Elrohir waited patiently at his father's elbow until Elrond had finished speaking, and then carefully laid out his piece of paper.
"Ada, Istuion asked us questions about the First Age today, and we could answer almost all of them," explained Elrohir, pointing to the paper.
Elrond picked it up, and looked at it closely. "Your penmanship is improving nicely," he said. "The fate of the Silmarilli and the name of the new city Gil-Galad founded. These are the questions you did not have answers for?"
"Yes, Ada. I do not think you have told us that part of the story yet," said Elladan.
"I think we can finish the First Age and tell a little about the second age for tonight's story," said Elrond.
Elrond's pronouncement was met with grins of delight, and the twins danced and skipped their way from the dining hall and towards the family sitting room. Elrond offered his arm to Celebrían, and they walked slowly after their children. Once settled together on the large couch, Elrond said, "Now where did we end last time?"
"Elros made his choice and you forgave him because it was the right choice, Ada," Elrohir reminded him. As he spoke the words, Elrohir patted his father comfortingly on the leg.
"Even though it hurt you," added Elladan, a little fiercely. "You were going to go with Gil-Galad to build a new kingdom. And Círdan was going to stay, and Daerada and Daernaneth."
Elrond smiled at their very good memories, while also noticing that hearing Elros' choice spoken of this way did not cause his heart to ache. Glorfindel, Celeborn and Galadriel had followed them into the room, and he looked at them and smiled. In that moment of silent communication they acknowledged his unspoken 'thank you', and he knew no other words were necessary.
"We had moved to the highest spot on the hills of Dorthonion, and the Valar were holding back the floods. The lands were soon mostly covered in water, and we were waiting for the ships to come to us . . ."
~ ~ ~* * *~ ~ ~
Night had descended on the camp, and for the first time in recent memory nearly everyone was relaxed, sleeping or involved in discussions of the future. The hills they were camped on were now surrounded by water and for several days now there had been no signs of any enemies.
Elrond leaned back against a log, watching the camp activity with curiosity. The elves had split into two divisions: those who were sailing west and those who were staying in Middle-earth. The men were visiting with both groups, for their immediate plans involved staying with those elves who would be remaining in Middle-earth, but they were fascinated by the Valar and spent time speaking with those elves who would be moving to live among them.
He watched as one figure left the group of men and approached him. Elros had been full of joy these last few days as he discussed the future with the men of the Edain. Elrond had purposefully kept his distance, for he sensed that he was a damper on that joy. The shock of Elros' decision had finally diminished, but Elrond found acceptance was slow in coming.
He shifted slightly as Elros sat down next to him, their shoulders touching, and Elros leaned into him. Elrond felt the tension in his brother, and shifted again to maneuver Elros in front of him. He began to massage Elros' neck and shoulders, imparting calm and healing in his touch. It was several minutes before Elros began to speak.
"I knew the moment Eönwë looked into my eyes which destiny I would choose. I gave it no thought, did not even consider what I was giving up. My spirit heard the promise to Men, the chance for them to throw off the yoke of slavery that they fled from years earlier, but which had pursued them. My heart heard the promise made to me, to be able to lead them into a new life. I had no fear of mortality, for it seemed to be a promise and a gift to leave the weariness of life when I tired of it."
Elros paused, his eyes closed, as he relaxed into his brother's touch. Elrond had determined he would listen, and he concentrated on soothing the tension from his brother's body. After a moment Elros continued.
"You are my earliest memory. You protected me, picked up the pieces when I tried new things, and were always there when I came home. You always loved me, always listened to me. You are the one person I cannot imagine leaving, and yet I have chosen to do just that."
Elrond gripped Elros' shoulders and buried his face into the black mane of hair before him. He bit the inside of his lip to hold back the tears, tasting blood. Elros' fingers covered his, and he could feel Elros' chest heaving as he struggled to control his breathing. It was several moments before Elrond could speak.
"You have been fascinated by our human heritage since you were old enough to understand it. You have long seen the good in Men, and all they could accomplish given the opportunity. You have led men in battle. But in all your interactions with Men, you lived among Elves. It never occurred to me that you would choose their fate to continue with them. It never occurred to me that you would leave us." Elrond's voice broke.
"It does not mean that I love you less," answered Elros, his voice shaking.
"I will love you until time ends," Elrond said, and a single ragged sob escaped him as he considered how long he might exist with emptiness where his bond with Elros belonged.
Elros turned and pulled Elrond into his arms, and a low growl escaped him as he felt Elrond tense and shutter all that emotion inside of him.
"Do not hold your pain inside! I would rather you were angry at me!" Elros shook him.
Elrond drew in a deep breath and raised his eyes to meet his brother's. He could not be angry with Elros; he would not burden his brother with his grief. He pulled from Elros' arms, and resumed his ministrations on the tense shoulders. Even as Elros relaxed against him and accepted his comfort, Elrond could feel tears splashing down on to his hands from their tracks down Elros' cheeks.
* * *
Gil-Galad watched from the shadow of his tent as the brothers talked, and then Elros passed by him and returned to his tent in the early morning hours. He waited to see if Elrond would follow and seek the rest of a more comfortable bed, but it appeared he planned on spending the night on the hard ground. Elros had found release in tears and a soothing touch; Elrond seemed determined to remain stiff and cold. A slight sound caught his attention then, and after a moment he realized what he was hearing. He pulled a blanket from the tent and then walked to where Elrond sat. He sat down in the spot where Elros had been, wrapped the blanket about Elrond's shoulders and then pulled him into his arms.
"Still so stubborn; still trying to be strong for your brother," Gil-Galad scolded him gently.
The dam broke then, and shuddering sobs racked the slender frame in his arms.
* * *
Dawn had not yet come when a strange light was seen in the distance. The first rays of the light seemed to spread through the sea, moving through the water quickly, far faster than the tide could carry it. It then emanated upward and into the sky. At the same time a brilliant flash of light lit the mountains, the earth quaking and then rising in a sheath of orange light that spread out across the surface of the earth, seeping deep into her chasms and then rising high above her surface. The light rising from the sea joined the light rising from the earth, and the Star of Eärendil set forth a sudden burst of light as they all met.
Gil-Galad had watched in wonder, and a number of elves who had been awake walked near. Murmuring, they questioned what they were seeing.
"The light can only be from the Silmarilli," Celeborn finally said aloud.
They all watched as the light faded, and then Anor rose and the day began. Before they could even seek answers about the strange light, the guard watching on the highest hill point called out more news: the ships had arrived. An array of ships approached, the beautiful swan ships of the Teleri, and Círdan's beautiful ships of natural wood and white. The ships dropped anchor in the deep water, and then small boats were lowered and rowed to the shores.
Elrond watched as those paddling the small boats from Círdan's ships pulled the crafts on to the shore and came to greet long missed friends and family. Those who paddled the small boats of the Teleri remained in their crafts, though they appeared equally glad to see those they had dropped off so long before. Eönwë appeared then to speak to Gil-Galad, King Finarfin with him.
"The Silmarilli have gone to their homes, where they will remain until the end of Arda," Eönwë said, answering the question lingering from the morning. "Maedhros held on to the end, and cast himself with the Silmaril into a fiery chasm of the earth. Maglor has cast the other into the sea." Eönwë paused as he looked over the camp, then turned his attention to Gil-Galad.
"The time has come to leave these shores. Ereinion Gil-Galad, are your people prepared?" Eönwë asked.
"Yes, my Lord," Gil-Galad answered.
"Do you sail east or west?"
"I sail east, my lord, though many others will sail west," Gil-Galad answered.
Eönwë studied the still-young elf, while behind him the face of King Finarfin reflected sadness.
"I understand the tie to the land of your birth," Eönwë finally said. "It has been a joy to know you, Gil-Galad. Come when you are ready."
Finarfin then stepped forward, and with grief in his eyes and voice, he embraced his nephew. "I had wished to bring you home. Know that you will be welcome, when you do come."
Finarfin drew Elrond into his embrace next, and he traced his long fingers over Elrond's face, from his forehead to his chin. "I am memorizing you, son of Eärendil, that I might adequately describe you to Elwing. Come soon, Elrond, that the scars of your heart may be healed."
Elrond found he could not speak, but fortunately Finarfin did not seem to expect him to. He watched as Eönwë moved among the men and elves, speaking to those who would stay and those who would go, organizing them and sending them to appropriate ships. He saw Eönwë come to Elros then.
"Elros, son of Eärendil and first King of Andor: Stay with the elves of Middle-earth and aid them in building their new kingdom. When your land is prepared, the Star of Eärendil will guide you to your new home. I will be there."
Farewells were said, and ships were loaded, and the majority of the ships sailed West, while Círdan's minority that would be staying in Middle-earth sailed east. The sun was setting as the last sails were seen on the horizon. Elrond and Gil-Galad had been the last to board, and now as they watched the ships disappear into the sunset, they heard a familiar voice.
"Ereinion! Elrond!" Círdan called.
Círdan stood before them, silently surveying them, and Elrond and Gil-Galad both smiled as he looked them over. While his words were few, the embrace he pulled them into spoke of his love.
"I have found a perfect place to build a port, on either side of the new bay where the Ascar River used to run. The lands of Ossiriand west of the Ered Luin have survived. The shape of the earth has changed, but already Galadriel has sent out scouts to map the land. A small village has been built on the southern shore, and all from Balar and the Edain who were rescued from along the coast are already there."
Elrond listened as Círdan laid out the plans to them, his mind noting all Círdan said and all the questions Gil-Galad asked, but his sight was drawn to a ship near theirs. It was the Mîriel, and Elros was at her helm. He felt Círdan's arm slip around his shoulders then and Elrond leaned unconsciously into that comforting presence. Elrond suddenly thought of the way that Círdan had taken over the direction of Elros from a young age, pointing him on paths that allowed him to meet and interact with men, build and sail ships, and in many ways prepare him for the destiny he had chosen. Elrond looked at Círdan then, and Círdan fell silent as he met his gaze. There was pain there, Elrond thought, but also acceptance. Elrond thought of the ships they had built long before war had come and of the foreknowledge Círdan had gained from the Sea, from Ulmo and Ossë. Círdan had prepared Elros for this time, he realized. He opened his mouth, the words about to pass his lips both questioning and accusing, but Círdan held up his hand for silence and Elrond had been long trained to obey that command. Instead, Círdan pulled him close, and he buried his face in the white beard, and in both of their eyes Elrond was five years old again and learning to trust in what he did not understand.
* * *
SA 32
Círdan had begun assembling the people and ships a week before the Star of Eärendil appeared in the sky and stayed present even in the morning light. The seas grew abnormally calm, and it was with great excitement that the Edain gathered at the docks in the harbor of Lindon.
Elrond walked out of the palace in Gil-Galad's kingdom of Lindon and followed the brick streets to a garden overlooking the Havens. In only thirty years they had built a city, fortifying her walls and havens against any enemies that lay beyond them to their east, and work was well underway to the North in Mithlond, where Círdan would rule the second haven. The Edain had aided them, and in turn developed tools and skills, textiles and other items they would need in their new home.
He knew they were anxious to be settled and have their own kingdom and their own king. While Gil-Galad had not required any loyalty from the Men, they had lived and served under his rule. None could complain of their treatment, but they still longed to be their own people. Soon they would be free to build their own destiny far from the shadow and curse that hung over Middle-earth.
Elrond watched as people began boarding the ships. It would take most of the day, and they would sail when Elros determined all was ready. He saw his brother calling orders and moving through the chaos below, solving disputes and problems with calm and grace. Elrond was torn between an overwhelming pride in Elros' abilities, and the knowledge that today was the last day they would spend together. They had not spoken the words, but both knew that they would never see each other again. A clean break from Middle-earth and all ties to her shores, thought Elrond.
By late afternoon the ships were loaded, and still Elrond sat beneath the arbor in the gardens above the havens. He knew Elros had seen him, and would come when he was ready. He turned his gaze away as Elros said goodbye to Gil-Galad.
He sensed his brother's presence before Elros came into sight, and he stood to meet him. Elros walked to him, and the two stood facing each other for a long moment. Each reached out at the same moment, hands tracing the line of the face, the curve of the cheek and the cleft of nearly identical chins. Elros took his face in both hands then, and kissed him on each cheek, then ran his hands down Elrond's shoulders, to his arms, and finally took both hands in his.
"Goodbye, my brother," Elros finally said, his voice sounding strangled.
"Farewell, Elros. May the Valar guide and protect you, and may you live long and well in this new place," Elrond managed to say.
Elros pulled him into his arms, and they embraced. For some minutes they stayed like that, and Elrond memorized the feel and smell of his brother, the feel of his heartbeat and the depth of his breaths. Elros finally pulled away abruptly, and walked away without looking back. He ran down the path to the havens, and up on to the docks and on to the Mîriel. The gangway was pulled back, and Elros steered the ship from her dock. Some of the ships would be staying with the Edain in Andor, but most would be returning with their crews and captains. Círdan was at the helm of the Alphiel, long his favorite ship.
Elros turned the wheel over to another as soon as the Mîriel had left her berth, and he climbed into the rigging, up to the crow's nest. He stood against the mast, watching the land recede from sight, until he could no longer see Middle-earth or his brother.
Elrond watched the ship until he could no longer see even one sail on the horizon. Still he sat in the garden as darkness fell; the Star of Eärendil, though, still shone brightly as it led the ships westward. It was the darkest hour of the night before he rose and walked back along the brick paved streets of Lindon.
The fountains bubbled, and the lanterns were gaily lit, as they were every night. Elves danced and sang in small groups in the streets, and many of the songs were for safe passage and joyous life for their friends, the Edain. He entered the palace, the guards nodding to him respectfully as he passed, and walked the silent halls to his suite of rooms. He entered the antechamber, and noted that someone had left a lantern burning for him in his study.
He pushed open the door to find Gil-Galad sitting in a comfortable chair before the fire, his feet stretched out on a footstool before him. Elrond moved silently to sit down in the other chair, and accepted the glass of wine Gil-Galad offered to him.
They raised their glasses, and Gil-Galad said softly, "To new lives."
The glasses clinked, and they sipped the wine in silence.
~ ~ ~* * *~ ~ ~
"Oh, Ada," said Elrohir and he rested his cheek against Elrond's as he hugged him. "I am trying to be happy for Uncle Elros but I am too sad for you."
Elladan had both of his arms wrapped around his father's arm, and Elrond could feel tears against his hand.
"Do you see now why Albast and the other Men like him are special to us?" Elrond asked gently.
"Yes, Ada," sighed Elrohir.
"It was a time of joy," said Elrond, surprising himself with the words. "Morgoth was bound and evil banished, at least for a time. Gil-Galad was right - it was a time for us to live and not just survive. Living in Lindon was unlike anything I had experienced before."
"Was this the Second Age, Ada?" asked Elladan.
"This was the very beginning of the Second Age, and a time of peace in Middle-earth."
"Will you tell us about living then, Ada? Did good things happen?"
"Many good things happened in the Second Age, Elladan. I can name two quite easily," said Elrond. His sons both sat up and waited expectantly for him to continue. "Your Nana was born, and Glorfindel returned."
Elrond found his lap quickly deserted as his sons turned to their mother.
"Well, I can tell you about the first time I saw your father, and how handsome I thought he was and how I fell in love with him. . ." Celebrían explained, laughing as she was cut off by groans from her sons. "Well, perhaps I could find a story more to your liking. Although. . .," she paused dramatically, "Glorfindel drove Sauron from the land, and could tell you what it is like to be the mightiest and bravest warrior the second age has ever seen."
The whoops of delight as the twins dove on top of Glorfindel made everyone laugh, and the golden warrior scooped up the twins effortlessly and stood.
"At least some people recognize mighty feats of courage and bravery when they hear of them. Come, I will tell you my story . . ." With a wink and a grin, Glorfindel carried the twins from the room.
"Who knew that a mighty Balrog slayer would make such a fine nanny?" mused Celeborn.
Galadriel stood with a long suffering sigh and held out her arm for her husband to rise and depart with her.
Once they were alone, Celebrían moved to curl up at Elrond's side. He pulled her close, his hands delving into her hair to stroke the beautiful mane in the way he knew brought her pleasure.
"Did you ever see Elros again?" Celebrían finally asked.
"No, although a few letters were exchanged when Círdan's ships met Elros' on the seas. I knew he married and had children. He said his oldest son was much like me, and this was both a blessing and a curse to him. His wonderful humor came through even in his letters."
"Did they send word when Elros passed from this life?"
"They did, but there was no need," answered Elrond slowly. "The emptiness I had long feared descended upon me one day while I was in Gil-Galad's court. The bond that tied us together was just a mere thread at that point, but I always felt it. At times that thread brought comfort and at times it brought pain. Then it was gone, and only emptiness remained. I am not sure there are adequate words to describe that hollow feeling."
"Is it still there, this empty feeling?" asked Celebrían tenderly.
"I think it will always remain, but I have learned how amazing the heart is, and how resilient the soul. Around that empty spot new bonds have formed, and their strong threads insulate and protect and strengthen the spirit, so that the hollowness is but a tiny gap in a finely woven tapestry." He leaned down to kiss her gently on the lips, and brushed a tear from her cheek.
"I love you, Elrond," she whispered.
"And I you, my silver queen," he replied, "for so long as time exists."
THE END
* * * * *
Final Author's Notes:
The Silmarillion does not say how the elves knew that Maedhros and Maglor had met the ends that they did, so the descriptions of the light are my own liberties taken to show that something occurred that the elves could see. "Unfinished Tales" tell us that Círdan's ships and sailors transported the men to Andor (Númenor) and left some of their ships there. I could not find any information to suggest that Elros and Elrond had much contact after Elros departed Middle-Earth. I think a clean parting was best, given time, distance, the need for Men to build their own lands and kingdoms, and the ongoing heartbreak that would otherwise occur between the two brothers. The Númenorians sailed back to Middle-earth in the year SA 600. Elros died in SA 442.
I had considered adding a few scenes from Elrond's life to the end of this story, but have decided to hold off as I consider whether I wish to tackle the Second Age (or maybe the Third Age - can you see Elladan and Elrohir teaching Estel?). These included Gil-Galad's death, Arwen's birth, Celebrían's departure, and Arwen's decision. Each one is another significant event - but most are another blow, another loss, to this incredibly tragic character. It seems that all he loved were taken from him, some temporarily and some permanently. All of these things except the last had occurred by the time of "The Hobbit", and yet Tolkien described him thus:
"He was as noble and as fair in face as an elf-lord, as strong as a warrior, as wise as a wizard, as venerable as a king of dwarves, and as kind as summer." ("The Hobbit"; 'A Short Rest').
It was a challenge and a pleasure to explore some ideas of what made Elrond into the person described above, despite his many losses. Thank you to all who read, and especially to all who encouraged me with reviews and emails.
Nilmandra
Chapters 20 - 22
