Sweet, flowing music floated through the room. Like a warm spring day in the cool forest close by. A day when all one could do was bask in the glory of creation and marvel at its beauty. A day when one simply sat high up in a cozy grove, surveying the vast, homely land of Rivendell before them. When all her beauty and all her peace found their home in one's own heart. When the breath of God swept past in the wind, caressing long, dark locks, in a sweet breeze, as the sun shone down in the warm of the day. Sound like the running of a brook at one's feat, as the water splashed joyfully down, to join the great falls of the Baranduin, and come down crashing in a marvelous wall like a chorus of thunder.
Elladan's fingers moved swiftly. Up and down and up again, his skilled fingers graced the hallowed ivories with elven grace, eliciting from the well-crafted, highly-refined instrument, the harmonous joys of springtime in Imladris. Without a care in the world; and all the time in the world without a care. The wonderful sound echoed though the large hall; washing all of the house of Elrond with its wonderful tune.
Such was a common sound among these halls, but it was still hard not to fall into the wonderful spell that the young elf wove. Not far off, and without Elladan's knowledge, a young boy watched.
Little Estel sat amongst the many floor cushions beside the fireplace, his half-closed eyes getting heavier by the second. He had been in Rivendell for two years now, but his adoptive brothers continued to amaze him. The marvelous sound that now drafted elegantly down the halls had taken him hold long ago, and he did not wish it to stop any time soon.
Every once in a while, he was reminded of where he sat. He was brought back to the reality that this was simply music. No. He could never think of it like that. This was not just simply music. It could not be. He did not know how Elladan did it, but somehow, by his elven grace and centuries of trained skill, he could transport his little brother into other times, other places, and other worlds. Without ever saying a word.
As his eyes fell shut in the late morning light, he was taken once again to his favorite hilltop. High above the valley, in the grove of tall, green trees, there sat a certain rock that Estel had claimed for his own. The moss-covered stone was the perfect perch for him, as his feet dangled down to the valley below, the wind blew against his face, rustling musically in the trees behind him, and it was accompanied perfectly by the harmonous little stream behind him. He could spend all day on this hilltop and not grow bored; even a restless young soul like him.
There was something powerful that came from being at such peace. Perhaps it was all of the unknown trials that he was not even yet aware of - nor would he ever dream of facing for years to come. Maybe it was the sights he had seen as an even younger boy - of so much of his family's demise. Perhaps, even, it was a mixture of both past and future knowledge that made this peace so contenting. So wonderful. If only all the world could feel this. He thought, as the wind picked up once more. If only all the world were like this...
Birds sang in the trees overhead, and the creatures of the forest chased each other playfully, on the ground and in the trees, but Estel was content to simply sit. To enjoy. To soak in the beauty of one of the last unmarred homes in Middle-Earth. Countless times after this, he would return to this hill, and feel exactly the same. This was his refuge. His retreat. Countless nights, he had watched the sky fade from blue, to gold, to pink, to black. He had watched the stars appear, one by one, in the night. He liked to name them; as many as he could. And make up names for all the rest. The cool night breeze blowing through his wavy, dark tresses; somehow, in this peace, one could not grow too weary.
And if one did, all he had to do was slide off the little rock and walk a few paces to the base of the big tree. The ancient elven tree had stood for who knows how long, and its strong branches and deep roots both made wonderful beds; seeming to accommodate a sleeping man perfectly in the graceful bends and curves of its strong wood.
Countless times, his brothers had found him here, and carried him back into the house. And countless more they would do the same. No matter how old Estel got.
But now, as young Estel's eyes opened, he found that he was not at the base of the tree.
He lay still in his cushion bed, nodding off as his brother's fingers danced over the keys of the piano with elven grace. He smiled weakly as a soft breeze blew in through the open doors to his right. The sky was growing dark, but it was far from bedtime in Rivendell. No one ever had to go to bed before the stars came out.
Footsteps approached from the far side of the room, but the music did not stop. Estel forced his eyes open, to spot the figure approaching, not him, but his brother. The tall elven form was immediately recognizeable as the piano player's twin, Elrohir, and Estel watched as he sat down on the piano seat next to his brother.
If it were possible, the music only got more elegant, more beautiful, and more spell-binding. Without missing a beat, Elrohir lifter his fingers to the keys and joined his twin, weaving a brilliant duet in perfect time and harmony, the two never stumbled or bumped into each other once. This was something that they had many, many years practice at. Centuries, infact.
On the other side of the room, Estel's mouth dropped slightly open in awe. The music must have been the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. If only he could do that.
The soft lulling of the beautiful song, the warm crackle of the fire, and the cool night breeze all then conspired to make Estel's eyelids too heavy to old open. As he lay, falling slowly into a world or rest and comfort, the music played on, infiltrating his dreams.
Estel's eyes, ever so slowly, shut, sending him into a land of blessed rest.
-- -- -- --
Cool darkness flooded the quiet room. The previously spell-binding echo of the halls was now replaced only by the faint sounds of night. Crickets chirped, and the night wind blew through the dark boughs of the trees outside the window. But no sound could be heard from inside the house.
Little Estel opened his eyes slowly, trying to focus in the dim light of the moon. Where was he? He realized quick enough that he was not in his bed.
Looking up, he saw the dark shape of the piano that had been played so magically hours before. It sat silent now, but gave tribute to the young man's location. He had not been moved that night, when bedtime came. But he was now covered in a warm blanket, and Elrond had been kind enough even to bring his little night-light from his room; probably for just such an occasion as this.
The small lamp flickered dully in the large room, shedding just enough light to pick up the shines and shadows of the furnishings around him.
Standing slowly, Estel wrapped his blanket about his shoulders like a cloak, holding it in place with one hand, and picked up the small lamp in the other. His sleepy feet led him towards the passage to his bedroom; he knew his way there, but then he stopped.
Before him, the great piano sat, empty. The beautiful music his brothers had played still rang and played in his head. If only… If only he could play like that. The piano seemed to call him. What if… What if he was to try?
The light of morning was just dawning, and Estel knew that if he shut the top, and played softly enough, he would not wake anyone. The bedrooms were far enough down the hall, and everyone was fast asleep. He had to try.
Stretching up, he placed his little lamp down on the side of the piano, and then, standing on his toes, lifted himself high up onto the bench. His feet dangled off the seat, as he scooted over to the middle of the keys. One of his brothers had, thankfully, already shut the top, so he did not have to. He would try to be as quiet as he could.
A strange, exciting hesitation came over him, as he lifted his fingers to the keys. It was so quiet; he almost hated to break the silence. For a moment, he second-guessed himself. But in another moment, the guessing was gone. He was going to try.
His hand floated for a moment over the first key, before he pressed it down as lightly as he could.
doooong
The sound was quiet, but compared to the silence before still frighteningly loud. Little Estel gasped for a moment, as he pulled his hand away. Waiting a second to make sure he had not woken anyone, he tried again.
doooooooooooooooong
He played, pressing down the middle key. Some time ago, Elrohir had showed him a few things about playing the piano, but even after such short a time, many things he had learned had been forgotten. He strained to remember the one song that he had been able to learn.
The tune was short, simple, and choppy, and Estel played it slowly, softly; trying still to not wake the house. Using only his right hand, his little fingers picked out the tune; his other hand still holding his warm cloak safely around him. For a moment, he sat, happy that he could remember and play the tune. But then the song came to its end.
After only a few notes, Estel did not know how to continue further. But it was such a rich, beautiful noise the piano made - with little help from him - that he could not stop. Stopping, and sighing, he lifted his hand again and simply repeated the little tune.
C-F-A-G-F-A
Estel repeated the letters in his mind. Elrohir had taught him what letters corresponded with what keys and notes, and it made it easier to make sure he was doing it right.
G-F-D-C
He completed the first phrase of the song. When he had learned it, Elrohir had taught him the words to go along; but the little boy could not quite remember them now.
C-F-A-G-F-A
His fingers repeated the first section again, this time to move higher up the ivory keys.
G-A-C
The sun's rays began to dance in the golden sky behind him, casting light into the room, so Estel could better see his own movements.
A-C-A-G-F-A
He played again. The notes were repetitive, it was true, but it was the only song he could bring his mind to recall, and at the moment, he could not stop playing just yet.
G-F- D-C
The tune slowed as it descended on the long scale of ivory and ebony stripes, and Estel's little fingers tripped. He cringed as he hit the wrong note, but corrected it quickly and carried on.
C-F-A-G-F-A
He was almost finished. Only a few notes to go.
G-F
Lord Elrond watched quietly from the doorway, as his youngest son held out the last few note on his simple song. A warm smile covered his face, and pride shone in his eyes as he watched his dear son play quietly on the piano. The boy had done a good job caring for the others in the house, he had been quiet, but Elrond was awake long ago, and, like every morning when he woke up to early, he busied himself in his study, straightening and organizing, looking over papers, and then settling down to read a book. However, this morning, he did not find his comfort in a book. He found it right here.
Estel sighed, and placed his hand back in his lap, as he finished the song once more. Unaware of the elven lord he had drawn behind him, he considered for a second getting off and going to bed. His weary mind was tiring of this game; and even though the sun was taunting the horizon, he felt that his own bed would feel wonderful right now. But something told him to keep going.
After a moment, he lifted his hand, one last time, to try the ivories. He did not know why he kept doing this, but somehow, the simple noise he made echoed the elven grace of his brothers; giving hope that one day he might play like they had.
Slowly, silently, Elrond walked up behind his son. Making sure that not even his shadow fell upon the piano, he gave no hint that he was there. As his son played on, his little fingers continuing to pluck out the old, simple tune, he smiled. He knew this song well. He remembered teaching it to both Elladan and Elrohir. It was a good song; one from long, long ago. No one knew who had written it; it had simply been a part of teaching for as long as anyone cared to remember.
Slowly, carefully, Elrond came up beside his son. Estel focused still on his fingers, even though he knew the tune, and did not notice the silent elf beside him.
Halfway through the tune, Estel gasped suddenly, as Lord Elrond sat beside him on the piano bench. But he did not stop playing. Elrond's graceful hands laid on the piano, striking a small, harmonous chord, in perfect time and tune with Estel's song. Estel smiled up at his father, as Elrond smiled back down at him.
Little fingers carried the tune to its end, and then started up again, repeating the song. Beside them, elven hands composed a harmony, at times, even crossing over Estel's little hands, at times racing up and down the keys. Estel's smile grew, as, with his father's help, his simple tune was transformed into a brilliant song. Striking magnificent chords and playing brilliant scales, the tune surrounded Estel's simple song, and lifted it up, higher, and higher, until, together, the two played a glorious masterpiece.
As it to finish off the great song, Elrond smiled down at his son, and then opened his mouth in song; bringing the words back to the small boy's memory, the two sang together the next time they repeated the short tune.
The magnificent, strong voice of an Elven Lord mingled perfectly with the small, humble voice of a human child in Rivendell's halls that cool morning, in a song that joined their united need, and thanks to the God that allowed them this pleasure.
"Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost, but now I'm found. Was blind, but now I see."
As they continued, the song came back to Estel, and they went on to sing the rest of the verses together; Elrond's music growing grander, and grander, lifting up Estel's tune to measures the boy could not imagine.
"'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, and grace my fear relieved. How precious did that grace appear, the hour I first believed."
Recalling the words now, Estel smiled up at his father. It was a great song, and he knew its meaning well. The grace of God descending to earth; saving the lost, and the blind, showing them God, and vanquishing foes.
"Through many dangers, trials, and snares, we have already come. 'Twas grace that brought us safe thus far. And grace shall lead us home."
Elrond smiled down at his son. Already he knew that the boy would suffer. Yes, he would suffer, and he would fight; it would not be easy. But he would do it. By the grace of God, he would carry on. In this, Elrond put his hope. His Estel.
"The Lord has promised good to me, His word my hope secures. He will my shield and portion be, as long as life endures."
The song went on. Yes, that was Elrond's prayer for his son. That grace would guide him, and God would keep him; forever.
"The earth will soon dissolve like snow; the sun forbear to shine. By God who called me here below will be forever mine."
The song came to what was sometimes its end, but Elrond took this opportunity to teach the boy one more verse, as his magnificent music wound down to its end.
"When we've been there ten thousand years, bright shining as the son, We've no less days to sing God's praise then when we first begun!"
Estel smiled, his eyes lighting up at the idea; having forever and ever, to do just what he was doing now. To sing, and play, with his father, and worship God. To live forever in the peace he found; in a place called 'Home'. It was like a dream; too good to be true. But he knew it was.
As the music stopped at last, the little boy leaned over and wrapped his arms around his father; hugging him close, he pressed his head against the elder elf's shoulder fondly.
"Thank you, Ada." He said, a dream-like smile still on his face.
Elrond smiled down at his son, returning the embrace. An even bigger smile came upon him with his son's next words.
"Do you think… Do you think you could teach me another?" The boy's hopeful voice came in a strangely hesitant question.
Elrond smiled broadly, looking down on his son in loving pride.
"I would love to."
A/N: The name "Anwar Eruanna" was the closest elvish translation I could find to "Amazing Grace". Also, yes, if you playe those notes in the right rythem, that IS the song. ALSO yes, I know I used the amercian system, not the english one. I can change it if anyone is DYING for me to correct it, but I just... didn't.