Standing on a high place, watching the world sprawl out underneath you, your problems do not seem quite so intense. Not quite so pressing. Not quite so looming. After all, you are only one person in the whole world, one insignificant being with insignificant problems.
She belongs with her people!
The voice of your father tears through your mind, forceful with emotion. It stings, more than you wish to let on. He has always been your rock, your safe place, the one to give you love, discipline, encouragement, and yes, hope. Estel. But that voice that has always brought so much comfort was cold, hard.
I will not leave my daughter here to die.
Are you not his son? Does he not care for you as much as he cares for her? As much as he always professed? The many days that he, himself took off from his endless work to teach you how to ride, the countless times that he found excuses to watch you train, sometimes even joining in. The seemingly ceaseless stays in the Halls of Healing when he offered not only his healing skills but also a mug of tea – drugged for sleep though it may have been – and a comforting smile and gentle embrace. The stories he told you by the fire, with you curled up on his lap and your brothers sitting to either side, as raptly attentive as you were. The many nights you called out in your sleep, tortured by some terror, past or imagined, and he was suddenly there, swishing robes, long hair tangled in his haste, gentle hands, strong arms, soft voice and the safest place you had known as he assured you that you would grow to be great, unafraid of the demons that haunted you then. The times you shyly asked, mumbling, not meeting his gaze, if you were a burden to him, if he truly loved you, and his earnest eyes sincere as he held you close and told you that he would do nothing different even if he had the choice. The times your brothers brought you back home after you ran off, determined to keep them from the burden your presence brought them, finding him with tears of relief in his eyes that you were back home safely, reinforcing what he had told you. That he loved you. Did all of this mean nothing? Did all of those years, fleeting as they were in an Elf's lifetime, make no impact?
Did your love mean nothing to him?
She stays because she still has hope, you had argued. Was your love not enough?
She stays for you.
Were you not enough?
Then, like now, you have no words for him. The one who was your father, is your father. While he may have decided you are not fit to be his son, he is still your father. You hope that one day, you will be enough for him. His Estel. Ever green.
But never more than a memory.