The Calling
Elrond stared solemnly over the edge of the boat. The sea was calm, the gentle tugs of the waves propelling the heavy boat through the cerulean ocean. The bright sun nearly blinded him as it reflected of the surface of the water. After many years he was finally taking the boat to Valinor. The sea was calling to him, as it had called his wife long before him. He was eager to see her again, to gaze upon her pale face and lose himself in her eyes. They had been separated by a vast ocean for a while now and his heart had grown weary over the years.
Although the elf lord was excited to see his wife once more, he couldn't help but wonder whether he was making the right decision. He was leaving behind more than he could comprehend. He was leaving his children - all four of them. He was leaving them behind with uncertain fates and the lord's heart was heavy with worry for his four children.
No amount of forsight could have predicted what Elladan and Elrohir would do. Elrond had never met such an indecisive pair. They spent their lives on the battlefront. Elrond could not recall a time where he had seen their swords clean from orc blood. Their hearts once innocent were long tainted by the need for vengeance. They would never rest until every orc was wiped from the planet and every trace of them burnt to the ground.
They had been irrevocably changed that night, when they had seen their mother, covered in her own blood pleading for a merciful end to her torment. They had never cried after she had left for the undying - this had confused Elrond at the time but much later he had realised that instead of crying like Arwen, their grief had been translated into hate. They were thirsty for the blood of orcs, a thirst that Elrond had realised could never be quenched. He had a feeling they would follow in his brother Elros' footsteps. They had always reminded him of his long passed brother. It pained him more than imaginable that he might never see them smile again - like they had when they were children.
Elrond thought of Arwen. His only daughter - the apple of his eye. Her smile had made CelebrÃan's absence almost bearable. She was the embodiment of hope. She was the flicker of light in the long dark tunnel Elrond thought himself to be lost in. She had pulled him through the darkness, whether she had known it or not. But now, now, she had been stolen from him. Stolen from him by the ranger and Elrond was doomed to lose her regardless of him taking the ship or not.
He could still remember her face and he hoped that he would always remember it. Although she had his hair, everything else belonged to her mother. From her smile, to the way her eyes twitched whenever she was concealing laughter. She was Luthien, born again, and in Elrond's eyes no man or, elf for that matter was worthy of her hand. Yet Aragorn had taken it anyway, stolen her away and doomed her to a mortal end. Elrond had cried when she had married Aragorn - but not because he was happy, because he knew deep down that he would one day lose her forever.
His fourth child was not his by blood - although distantly related through his brother Elros. Elrond had not wanted another child nor had he expected one but he had recieved one anyway and he was thankful for it. Aragorn had many names but too Elrond he would only ever be Estel - his star amongst a midnight sky. Elrond had grown to love him as a son and Estel had even called him ada which had brought pleasure to Elrond's old weary heart.
The years had turned Estel into a fine young man - a fine young man that seemed determined to steal his daughter away. It would have been easy for Elrond to hate Estel for taking Arwen from him, but no matter how hard the Elf Lord tried to hate him he couldn't. Whenever he thought of Estel he saw the wide toothy smile of a freckled child and the look of utter glee on his face when he took Arwen as his wife. And like Arwen and most probably the twins, Elrond was doomed to lose him as well.
Elrond cursed mortality. It had brought him much pain over the years, from the loss of his brother to the loss of his children. Elrond had given everything yet required nothing in return. The boat began to slow giving way to the thrashing of the wide ocean. The anchor had been dropped. Elrond could already see her on the shoreline. Her face the mirror-image of Arwen's. CelebrÃan was smiling brightly. Elrond did not know how he was going to break the news of Arwen's decision, but that was another day's problem. All he could think of now was his wife and her beautiful and warm smile. Looking at her face he forgot all his problems and for that one tiny moment, he was content.