Elrond Peredhel's heart sank, when the elves scattered across the Hall Of Fire started calling out for the Minstrel of Imladris to sing the Fall of Gil-Galad. He knew full well the contents of that ballad, as he had been there. He was Gil-Galad's herald and had watched his beloved King and cousin die at the hand of Sauron, leaving him, quite literally, with the throne of the High King and in command of the survivors. Feeling his wife's eyes on him, he breathed deeply to calm himself before nodding at Lindir his assent, preparing to relive the pain.
Lindir breathed deeply, playing the introduction as he relaxed, opening his mouth to sing:
"Gil-galad was an Elven-king.
Of him the harpers sadly sing:
the last whose realm was fair and free
between the Mountains and the Sea."
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Sitting in his chair, Elrond listened, waiting for the memories to wash over him when he heard shrieks of happiness and opened his eyes. He watched as his twin sons crawled all over his seneschal , squealing as the elf lord made a playful grab for various body parts to pull them off. Elrond smirked slightly, not envying Glorfindel's task, albeit it was a favor as one friend to another. Erestor and Glorfindel traded off watching the boys during the nights in the Hall of Fire, especially now that Celebrian was pregnant again.
As he watched his sons, his mind slipped into the past, remembering his own troublemaking with his brother and cousin. Gil-Galad was the High King, so was always busy learning how to rule properly and never had much time. But when he did, the pranks that they pulled made them laugh for hours, even through their varying punishments. Lindir's voice penetrated his memories, bringing the present to the forefront again:
"His sword was long, his lance was keen,
his shining helm afar was seen;
the countless stars of heaven's field
were mirrored in his silver shield."
Elrond smiled, remembering his cousin's fondness for Aeglos. His over-protectiveness of that spear was well known and laughed about, although never challenged. The Elf-Lord remembered the time of the Last Alliance, seeing the men giving Gil-Galad strange looks as they observed his single weapon. He had heard the whispers, about how the elf King wouldn't last long in a fight with just a puny spear and a shield. After that first battle against the forces of Mordor, all the Edain and Elves were in awe and never demeaned any spears again. In fact, they cheered when they saw Aeglos lofted high as they charged into the fray.
"But long ago he rode away,
and where he dwelleth none can say;
for into darkness fell his star
in Mordor where the shadows are."
Elrond sighed, remembering the argument he and his cousin had had, before Gil-Galad had ridden off, and as the tears rushed to his eyes as usual, he heard more joyful squeals. He smiled reflexively, wondering at the sudden dry feeling instead of wet. Lindir was still singing, and as Elrond listened, he realized that this is what Gil-Galad fought, and died for. Freedom for all elves, and safety for elflings to live and thrive in happiness. Elrond reached over and grasped his wife's hand, smiling, and beckoned to his sons, settling them on his lap as they reached him. As Elladan and Elrohir snuggled in their Ada's lap, Elrond looked squarely at Lindir and sang the last verse with him, smiling as his minstrel's eyes widened in surprise.
"But long ago he rode away,
and where he dwelleth none can say;
for into darkness fell his star
in Mordor where the shadows are."
As the Hall burst into applause, the Minstrel bowed to his audience and looked at his Lord with awe and wonderment. Elrond nodded at him, tears running down his smiling face. He could feel his wife smiling at him, and his sons were patting at his face, telling him not to cry. Elrond knew, after all the years of guilt and sorrow, he had finally healed. All was well.