White shores, water nearly transparent and yet blue as the sky on a summer day, every wave sparkling in the light of the sun as it rolled softly onto the beach, never even feigning harm to any creature in its path. Elladan had heard the descriptions from his grandmother on occasion, in the rare moments that she spoke of her homeland. It did sound beautiful, but that is where his feelings towards it stopped. Such yearning to go to the sea, to sail across it and leave all of Middle Earth behind…he didn't understand it. The idea frightened him greatly, but one by one, his kin fell under the spell; one by one, they all vanished to this promised land, that supposedly could not even be found within the confines of the world.
What frightened him even more was what the lack of sea-longing could imply. There was still a choice for him and Elrohir to make, and he could indeed choose not to sail, to stay at home and live a mortal life as their sister had once done, and an uncle, too, that they of course had never met. It felt right, somehow, and he could not tell if the chill of his skin was from life leaving him as an immortal (it had nearly happened once, long ago, although he had felt just fine since), or if he had inadvertently made the choice already, and mortality was rushing in to pull him away from the few loved ones that he had left.
Elladan nearly knocked his chair over as he stood, fear threatening to drown him, but determination just barely managing to keep him afloat. He and Elrohir needed to talk, and it could not be postponed any longer.