Partings
By Cheyenne Dancer
Partings by Cheyenne Dancer
Times were changing. Quicker than even an Elf could expect. Darkness hovered just outside Imladris. Only the power of his ring-Vilya-helped stave off the demands of time and the powerful forces that sought to pull his home and his loved ones to ruin.
The One Ring had been found. Somehow, the darkness seemed to hover much closer, to press in against the precious sanctuary of Imladris.
Elrond had thought that he might not see such a time come again. He had hoped that he would not. All too soon, the Fellowship would leave upon their quest-a tiny band of mismatched heroes against the power of a demon. Whatever the outcome, Imladris would no longer be the sanctuary it had once been. The time of the Elves was over. His time-his time was over, as well.
Squaring his shoulders, Elrond faced his decision, he could wait no longer.
The Elven Lord knew he should have spoken sooner. Days ago-months ago. But he had not been able to find it in him to do so. Time and again he had found reason to remain silent. Yet time had taught him well that even indecisiveness could be a decision-one without direction, one that would court disaster. He could not make the same mistake twice. Somehow, it seemed fitting that his heart should be shattered, again, on this of all days. Although this time, it would be broken by his own doing.
He must speak tonight. If he did not, it would be too late. A melancholy-filled sigh dogged his steps as he walked out upon his balcony lifting his head to the bright lights, blessings of Elbereth, far overhead. He wished there were someone he could speak with. Someone whose advice he could seek. Yet his path had determinedly set him alone and apart. There were few among the Elves who understood him as it was, fewer still who would understand where his heart had been drawn and none who would appreciate the pain of this choice. Many would call him foolhardy. No, there were none to whom he could turn. Loneliness settled about Elrond like a well-worn cloak.
Standing upon his terrace in the gathering twilight, Elrond searched the starlit sky with a pensive air. A promise of rain was hinted upon the evening air, small dark clouds scudded across the face of Ithil. Night-blooming jasmine lightly tinged the breeze and a night bird's call echoed eerily through the valley of the Bruinen stilling, for a moment, the soft chirruping of insects singing for rain.
The small crystal beads leading from his sitting room to his private chamber chimed quietly. A light step sounded behind the Lord of Imladris. As he began to turn to greet his guest, two strong arms coiled about his waist. Elrond's lips twitched into a welcoming smile as his lover's chin settled on his shoulder.
"I sought you after dinner, but you had left already." The words rumbled deeply against Elrond's neck and Elrond twitched in response. Though there was neither anger nor accusation in the words, Elrond felt a twinge of guilt. He leaned back against the strong chest of his beloved.
"I am sorry, a'maelamin."
Snorting softly, his lover teased gently, "You may make it up to me tonight, melethron."
Elrond tensed just a little, a bevy of dragonflies fluttering nervously in his belly as he thought of what tonight would bring. He did not think he would ever in all his long life be able to make up for what he was about to do.
Behind him, the arms tightened reflexively about his waist, as if his beloved could sense the deep pain and sorrow that painted Elrond's mood. "You are quiet tonight, melui hir-nin."
Folding his slender hands over the pair clasped about his waist, Elrond spoke quietly, as if his words would sunder the serenity of his valley. "'Tis an age ago this very day. 'Twas this very night when I had my heart torn from my breast."
His love's breath stirred Elrond's hair, and the Elf Lord felt him brush aside the thick dark tresses, exposing his neck. Elrond shivered as warm lips gently caressed the tender flesh and soft hairs at his nape. The warm voice rolled over him comfortingly.
"You speak of Isildur." Did Elrond imagine it, or was there a tint of remorse, a hint of anger beneath the lilting accent? Yet the arms that were wrapped tight about the Master of Imladris pulled Elrond tighter against the warm body of his lover, as if his beloved would protect him even from the ghosts of the past.
Elrond could feel the heat of his lover radiate through his robes and he leaned his head back against the strong shoulder, his hair a dark waterfall cascading around them. Raising his eyes to the star-strewn sky once more, Elrond spoke softly, a thread of sorrow reverberating through his deep voice, "I saw the strength of Men fail-there was naught that I could do to aid him." A bitter regret pervaded Elrond's normally even tones, "He was weak. And I-I was not enough."
Strong hands, made so by hard work, roughened by weaponry, pulled free of Elrond's grip. With a gentleness surprising in hands so careworn and rough, his lover turned Elrond to face him.
Gazing into the blue fire of his lover's eyes, Elrond searched the strong face, noting the aristocratic features, the small scar half-hidden in the hair that grew upon his face.
Speaking with harsh assurance, as if willing Elrond to heed and believe, "You did not fail. The fault was not yours. Deep within, you *must* know this." He had the audacity to give Elrond a firm shake.
Elrond spoke quietly, as if to himself. "It is folly to love Mortal Man. Yet, it would seem to be my doom." Elrond touched the whiskered cheek with two fingers, searching the intense blue gaze. "I have missed you, Estel."
With grave intent, Aragorn held Elrond at arm's length, seriousness coloring his expression darkly. "I will not fail you, gur-nin. This I promise to you. We shall return from this journey-*I* shall return.
Elrond raised his hands, clasping Aragorn by the elbows so that they stood braced one against the other. Tilting his head, Elrond agreed. "And when you return you shall be King, anu-hen. And you shall wed Arwen."
Frowning Aragorn spoke, "Your daughter is beautiful beyond measure. She is the Evenstar of your people. And I love her deeply. Yet, not as I love you. She is not you."
Raising his hand, Elrond ran his slender fingers lightly over Aragorn's firmed lips as if learning their shape anew. "A King must put away a young man's folly, meleth. What is meet within the boundaries of Imladris will have no acceptance in the Halls of Men. Even by decree, you could not will it so."
Aragorn paused, raising his hands to cup Elrond's face, holding the Elf Lord's head still and searching the Elven Lord's midnight gaze. "What is it you are telling me, meleth?"
Elrond rubbed his face against one of the palms before turning to kiss the rough hand. He felt the coarseness of the calluses upon Aragorn's hand-calluses gained in honourable discharge of the Man's duty-tug at the delicate flesh of his lips. Elrond smiled tenderly.
With a heavy sigh, Elrond responded slowly, as if fearing his words would cause as great a pain as he sought to alleviate, "I will not fail you, too, Estel." Elrond held up one of his hands between them, laying it lightly upon the dark embroidered surcoat Aragorn wore. He could feel the Man's heart pumping rapidly beneath his palm. "I have wrestled with the rightness of my decision these many long days. But there is only one true choice-one honourable path. I do not think it will be easy-for either of us, but I believe it is the right thing to do." Elrond started to pull away, he thought it would be easier if he did not watch the pain twist the Dunédan's beloved features.
Aragorn refused to free his face, the intensity of the Man's gaze frightening. Harshly, the Man demanded, "What are you saying?"
"When the quest is done," Elrond paused, gathering his strength and steadying his voice, "And I have seen you joined with my daughter; I shall depart Middle-Earth for the Blessed Realm."
"What? You are leaving? Why?" Aragorn pushed Elrond arms' length from him, and beheld him aghast. He searched desperately within the depths of the Elf Lord's face for some trace of uncertainty.
"Yes." The word lay between them, a double-edged sword sundering them in twain. "I cannot remain."
In quiet desperation, he gave Elrond a rough shake, speaking angrily, "I do not wish for you to go!"
"Estel. I cannot stay. You know this. We have spoken of this eventuality many times." Elrond ran his fingers along Aragorn's jaw, feeling the stubble bend beneath their tips. Aragorn snatched it from his face, holding the slim fingers tightly between his hands.
"I do not accept this! You are making choices without my say that affects us both. Do I not get to choose as well?" Aragorn's eyes flashed with anger and hurt.
Before the Man could continue, Elrond hurried on, as if in need of convincing himself as well as his lover, "You knew these trysts to be ephemeral, yet you chose to pursue them nonetheless-"
Aragorn pushed Elrond from him, eyes wide with pained disbelief. "I heard no complaints!"
Bowing his head once in both shame and in acknowledgement of Aragorn's protest, Elrond looked to Aragorn once more. His face set in calm, regretful lines, Elrond continued as if uninterrupted, "No, but, perhaps, I should have. It was wrong for me to indulge in your caress-"
Furiously, Aragorn pulled Elrond back to him, pressing his lips to Elrond's with angry passion as if he feared to be denied. Refused to have their love denied. The passion of Men had ever been Elrond's failing. Their hates went deep and their love burned like midsummer sun. Elrond moaned, parting his lips and letting Aragorn's savagery scorch through him. When Elrond felt dizzy and thought he must break from Aragorn's mastery, the Man pulled away, his voice harsh, "Do not say thus to me!"
Breathless, Elrond's face flushed and his eyes eclipsed by the night, he spoke, "I must. This is folly, Estel. We cannot do this any longer."
Forlornly, Aragorn brushed the dark hair back from Elrond's face, twining one of the knotted locks about his finger. "Did you never love me, then? Was it my folly to believe I was worth your time-your care-your desire?"
"No! Do not believe yourself foolish. You know what truth dwells in my heart." Drawing slowly from Aragorn, with a measured step Elrond strode from his lover, stopping near the intricately wrought balcony, his gaze once more pulled skyward. Wrapping his arms about himself, he spoke softly, "Your destiny is here, anu-hen. Mine is not. I made that choice long ago."
Staring out beyond the treetops swaying in the evening breeze, Elrond noted Eärendil rising and smiled sadly. Ah, Father, he wondered, what words could you give me to ease this pain? Would you understand? Could you help me in this?
He spoke with his back turned to Aragorn, for it was too painful to watch the play of emotion across the Man's face, so like, yet so unlike Isildur-oh so many years ago. "My daughter is enamoured of you, Estel. She will be good to you and care for you, as I cannot in your land of Men. She will bear you many children-beautiful bright daughters and stubborn, brave sons."
Aragorn stepped up behind Elrond, placing his hands upon each shoulder. "Stay." Pulling Elrond back into his embrace anew, Aragorn enfolded him tightly, as if the Elf Lord would fade like the morning mists before Anor's bright blaze.
"I cannot."
Sweeping Elrond's night dark hair forward over a shoulder, Aragorn kissed the revealed flesh with tender entreaty, causing Elrond to shiver and draw in a sudden breath. "I will not make this easy for you, melui hir." Splaying his hand across Elrond's narrow waist possessively, Aragorn lay a trail of tender kisses from the base of the Elf Lord's neck to just behind his ear, nuzzling gently among the soft dark hair. Aragorn sent a puff of hot, moist breath across the Lord's ear and Elrond trembled.
"You do not fight fair, Estel." Elrond's eyes fluttered closed and he felt moisture behind his lids. He could not afford to weaken. Too much hung in the balance-Estel's future, Arwen's happiness and even the fate of Gondor. Surely he had learned the lesson well of what awaited if he chose in favor of his passions rather than reason?
"I do not mean to." Aragorn spoke with grim resolve, sweeping his hand along Elrond's body using all he had learned in their years as lovers to sway the Elf Lord.
Abruptly, Elrond shook his head, as if coming from a waking dream. "What would you have me do?"
"You know what I wish. Do not leave Middle-earth. I will do all that you request. All that you have mapped for me, but-" Aragorn's voice faltered, falling quiet, almost too quiet for Elrond to hear. "Do not leave me. I could not bear it."
Elrond rested his forehead against Aragorn's chest. He could feel the deep, erratic shudders as Aragorn breathed as if in pain. The Man's heart thundered so loudly that Elrond believed he could hear its sorrowful beat. Elrond felt his heart was heavy beyond measure. Why did doing the right thing have to hurt those involved? Why had he allowed Aragorn to come to him all those many years ago? Questions that, even answered, would not make this task easier.
Sadly, Elrond asked, "Would you have me watch all that I have labored for in Imladris fail and fade? What would you do with me, Estel? Lock me in some high tower within Minas Tirith and betray Arwen when you can slip away? Should I live with the knowledge that I am my daughter's husband's lover?" Melancholy threaded through the deep timbre of Elrond's voice as he spoke barely above a whisper, "Would you have me watch both you and Arwen age and grow old, wracked with pain? Do you wish me to sit by your deathbeds? Yours and hers-one after the other? How much pain must I suffer to amend this hurt I have caused you?"
Aragorn lay his head atop Elrond's, rubbing his face into the hair. "Do not." The Man gave a shaking sigh, his hands running soothingly up and down Elrond's back. "I am selfish. You do not deserve such a grim fate. I would never do such a thing to you."
"Then, please, Estel, do not ask me to stay. I do not believe I am strong enough to withstand both you and my heart."
Aragorn spoke with pained longing, "You will not stay."
"Cannot, meleth. It will be beyond me to watch you both. My daughter and my lover. I love you both. I cannot choose. Estel, do not ask this of me."
With a gentle touch to the Elf Lord's beardless chin, Aragorn tilted Elrond's face up to him. Elrond reached up, brushing his fingers across damp, dark lashes. Aragorn's eyes gleamed brightly with unshed tears.
Sorrow colored Elrond's midnight gaze; his dark lashes damp upon his cheek, yet Elrond felt calmness underlying his sadness. He found some small measure of peace in having reached the rightness of his decision and he allowed it to show in his demeanor.
Clutching Elrond close to him, Aragorn nuzzled through the soft dark hair near the Elf's temple until his lips brushed against the tip of Elrond's ear. Aragorn whispered against the point, his lips brushing the sensitive flesh enticingly, urging a shiver from the ancient Elf. "I would do you no dishonour, melui hir o gur-nin. I shall not beg you against your wishes, though I do not like your decision."
Relieved that this discussion was drawing near its end, Elrond relaxed back against Aragorn.
Aragorn released him slowly, reluctantly. Sliding his hand down one of Elrond's arms, he laced his fingers through Elrond's and tugged him with gentle insistence towards the archway that led to the Elf's private chambers. Elrond stiffened, raising a surprised brow at the Man. "Estel?"
"I will ask this of you." Aragorn gave a small beseeching smile, as he drew Elrond step by step towards the inner rooms, "Let me take this sadness from your eyes, meleth. Let me lift the darkness from your heart. Tonight, tonight I am yet free to love who I wish and am in love with the most beautiful Elf upon Middle-earth. Give to me this night, beloved. Let me fill it with a lifetime of memories for you."
"And what of my daughter?"
Drawing the reluctant Elf Lord into his arms, Aragorn kissed his brow, tasting the cool metal of Elrond's interwoven coronet beneath his lips and the slight tang of salt sweet flesh. Whispering softly, Aragorn urged, "We have not spoken-Arwen and I. I am not pledged. I love her dearly as a sister and will cherish her for her sake, as much as your own."
Elrond closed his eyes briefly, "And, if the Valar are willing, one day love of Man for Woman shall bloom."
Shaking his head in mild disbelief, Aragorn sought to assure, "Whether we are so blessed or no, the Lady will know no difference. To this I will give you my pledge."
Accepting Aragorn's vow, Elrond nodded once. His voice hesitant and unsure in his own ears, Elrond wondered where the self-assured Elf Lord of Imladris had gone, "Just-we will not speak of my leaving again. Do not... "
Understanding dawned and Aragorn spoke thickly, "I will not ask, again, a'maelamin. But know this-Elrond, Lord of Imladris-I would change my destiny for you. I would seek not the throne of Gondor, but rather remain a simple Ranger until the end of my days if it would mean a single night longer in your arms."
"Ai..." Elrond could not hold back a sigh of regret, "melui anu-hen, meleth-nin, you would have me undone with your words."
Finis
********Glossary*********
a'maelamin - beloved
anu-hen - male child - in this context I'm intending an endearment and a taunt 'little boy'
gur-nin - my heart
melethron - lover(male)
melui hir-nin - my lovely Lord
melui hir o gur-nin - lovely Lord of my heart
meleth - love
meleth-nin - my love
Sindarin Dictionary Project: hisweloke/sindar/
Lord of the Rings, Fellowship of the Ring; J.R.R. Tolkien