On the Edge of Rivendell

They say that the Age of Man is neigh. Sauron has returned to reclaim his Dark Throne and draw Isildur's Bane back into his hold. They say that it is time for the Elves to leave Middle Earth forever. I wonder why it must be so. Haven't we lived with the men of this world in peace? Weren't there old alliances between our races? Didn't we fight with them to defeat Sauron in that first battle, the battle of the Last Alliance? We fought and died with them during that great battle, in which the odds were mightily stacked against both Elves and Men. Why must we run now and leave men to their fate?

Instead of standing and defending our homes we flee to the protection of our gods like frightened children! What will the race of men think of us now that we leave them to doom at the hands of the Orcs of Mordor? They fancy us wisest race of this world and surly there is often wisdom in retreat, but what wisdom is there in leaving one's allies to die? Are we not behaving as those traitorous men did when called by Islidur to help fight? The only difference is that we don't flee into mountains. Truly some oaths of friendship must still stand between our races.

Yet those words would fall upon deaf ears and the city empties. The horses are brought for those of a higher rank to ride, and others walk holding lamps to light the way. No weapons can be seen even in this dark time. Why would they be needed? What warrior would bother with retreating cowards?

I've been told that no matter if the War ends in victory or defeat we would have to leave our homes and sail over the sea. The power of the Three Rings will be broken if the One Ring is destroyed. Yet, if the One Ring survives then Sauron would cover the world in blackness and all would be caught in his net.

Perhaps if I was another I could stay in these lands, but I have no ties with Wizards or Kings of Men. I haven't even a horse to ride or an ancestor that can claim any great status. My deeds would have to be great, and they are not. There may be honor in taking care of your Lord, but there is never renown.

And so we stand, on the edge of Rivendell, ready to make the journey to the Grey Havens and the White Ships that will carry us to the Lands of Valinor and I'm afraid, more than I am angry, I am afraid. This place is the home that I have known all my life. I am too young, I have lived only 500 years; all I know is this place and now Lord Elrond says that we must leave. I've never even ventured far from the borders of this place.

And we need bring nothing except for the clothes on our back and what jewels that we care to wear. We leave all else behind us for Men and Orcs to scavenge. What myths will they construct about the ruins of our homes when we are gone? What songs will they make for cowards? The oldest elves say that this is a homecoming, we are leaving this world to return to our true homes. Perhaps for them it is so, and they will be greeted with love upon their return, but for the rest of us, this is an exile.