Disclaimer: Not mine. Definitely not mine, in this case. I really have no interest in Círdan. The Twins on the other hand….
Summary: It was said that Círdan would wait in Middle-earth until the last ship sailed. How long, exactly, was that?
AN: It's my own plot bunny. It hit me a few weeks ago out of the blue, but I was on vacation last week, and so, it got written. It is very short, but it's just a question I wanted answered, and this answer seemed long enough!
Of all the elves remaining in Middle-earth during the Third Age, Círdan was by far the oldest. And although it was rarely admitted, he was almost the most blessed with foresight. For ages he had been able to see further than any other and know he saw the truth of things.
But not even he had foreseen this day. Had he realized an Age before that he would have had to wait to sail this long, he might never have promised to wait. But in his heart he knew that was untrue. Even if he had not made such a promise, for the love he bored Elrond, his adopted grandson, he would have waited neigh on forever to bring the twins home to their parents.
Though there had been days it felt like forever. And now he stood upon the deck of the last ship he would ever build on this side of the sea, and watched the twins take leave of their nephew Eldarion, now the King of Men.
It was a joy for Círdan to be, finally, returning to his people. These shores no longer brought him joy as they once had. And yet, this was a bitter parting. He had been born here, in this land, long ages before when the world was much different. But it was still home. He had never felt entirely comfortable in Valinor.
But he realized as well how much more bitter this day was for the twins. His heart nearly broke to think of it. They sailed today, not because they desired to; not because they were tired of Middle-earth, but because they had made a promise to their father, as Círdan had done.
The Shipwright made a mental note to himself to stop making promises.
The sun was beginning to go down; they would have to get underway soon. He saw Eldarion gesture to the ship and then turn away towards the city. The twins lingered for only a moment longer, until the man disappeared through the harbour gate, and then they too turned away.
The twins looked nothing short of crestfallen. This was a bitter parting from both family and the only life they had ever known. Círdan uttered no words, for there was no comfort he could give that they would receive. Instead he motioned to his sole two deck hands to hoist the sail and get underway; there was no use lingering.
As the wind caught the sail and the swan prow broke into the waves, Círdan gave one last glance to the retreating shore. Many things were about to change, but it was time. He had no desire to be the last remaining elf in Middle-earth.
