How it should have started… (if Elrond was not his many times great uncle, but his only his great-uncle, and had forced him to be rid of the ring instead of allowing him to keep it.)
Disclaimer: I do not own any LOTR or Hobbit matterial, nor do I receive anything for it.
Elrond drags Isildur to the heart of Mount Dûm. The heat of the fire swirls around them. Elrond brings Isildur to the edge of the natural pedestal. At long last, we shall finish this.
"Isildur, thrust it into the fire!" Elrond's voice is barely hear over the crackling brimstone. Isildur pulls out the ring he had just obtained from his fallen enemy. Its simple gold gleamed menacingly in the fire's light. What do you see in it? It is the reason your father is dead! And my brother's son...
"I cannot… It has become... precious to me." His voice sounds dreamlike, as if in a trance. Elrond stares at his friend, incomprehension apparent on his face.
"Isildur, this is a creation of darkness that ties the shadows to our world." Elrond cannot begin to understand this unexpected resistance. What did Sauron infuse into this thing? Why... "Thrust it into the fire and be done with this, forever!" Isildur yanks his arm out of Elrond's grasp, stepping away from the ledge.
"No.. I cannot… I shall keep it, forever, and bind my decedent's to it's protection!" Isildur gazed lustfully at the trinket. Elrond stood as if in a stupor over his former friend's insane proclamation. Bind your decedent's to it? You would tie Elendil, Araton, Ciryon or little Valandil to this darkness? It is precious to you? You have had possession of it under an hour! It has taken your brother and father by it's evil!
Flashes flittered into the young elf's mind, images of the ring taking hold of Isildur's heart. Orcs attacking, killing off Elendil, Araton and Ciryon, of Isildur's falling and the kingdoms in chaos. He saw a creature possessed by the ring, armies of light and dark amassing to again fight the power of Sauron. It was then that he knew what he had to do to prevent this horror.
"I am sorry my friend, but this could eventually lead to the destruction of all our world! We just prevented it from doing just that!" Elendil, your father… my brother's son… died to do so. You were willing to do so as well. Elrond realized that he had few options available to him. Either he could spare his friend and allow him to keep the evil talisman and allow that vision to occur, or force him to destroy it before those things could come to pass. "Isildur, if you do not remove that thing into this fire, I will do so, and you with it!" Even this did not stir Isildur's gaze from his new treasure. "Think of your son! Your wife! Would you lose them to this trinket?" No sign that he even registered his friend's presence.
Elrond's heart grew heavy as he grabbed the man, his nephew, pulling him back to the edge. He could not risk coming under the thing's evil trance by touching it, or he would not be doing this. If it had taken such hold so quickly, no telling what would happened if it latched itself to elfin power. "I am sorry, my brother's blood, but for all of our sake's, I must do this." Just as he was pulling him over the edge, Isildur looked up, confusion and insanity clear in his eyes as he clutched the ring to him as his fell to his doom. A wave of dark power released as he and his dark treasure were consumed by the liquid fire.
Slowly, sorrowfully, Elrond made his way back to his camp. How will I… How can I tell Nadi'all?
Just as he was setting aside his armor and weaponry, there was a fluttering of curtains. Sighing, he turned to greet his guest.
"Mithrandir, my friend. I am glad to see you unharmed." Almost carelessly, he gestured for the wizard to sit. The wizard's face told him all he needed to know. "I suppose we much to speak of."
Pulling out his pipe, Gandalf leaned back and began to slowly puff, seemingly ignoring the comment. After a few moments, he spoke. "The ring's taint is powerful. We have all seen it's corruption and power. It was nearly the ruin of us all, until today." Taking a puff, he let it out slowly. "Much blood has been spilt. So much darkness still taints the lands after so long in the shadow of this great evil. A taint that can corrupt the hearts "
"My brother's blood was nearly consumed by that shadow." Elrond had pulled out a bottle and glasses. Handing one to the wizard, he sat across from him on the soft cushioned couch. "I brought him to the fires of Mount Dûm, to destroy the tainted metal. Not even an hour with the thing and it had already consumed him, Gandalf. The memory his father, his child and wife were nothing to him so long as that ring was in his hands." There was a resounding clang as the cup in his hand was thrust upon the table between the two men. "An hour, Gandalf, an hour and he had forgotten that he had willing to die to rid this evil from our world! I could not allow the blood of our kin to be forsaken, all for his obsession over a plain metal trinket! And," He paused, collecting himself as he found his voice, "and I could not chance it consuming me as well."
Hours seem to pass in that heavy silence. Slowly, Gandalf stood and made his way to the sorrowing elf. "Time alone will tell if this was an act of reason, or an act of folly. Many women and children will learn of their husbands and fathers death as result of this war. How much worse would it be for them to learn that their husband and father had not been slain by the shadow, but rather consumed by darkness nonetheless. "
"Wise as always, Mithrandir." Elrond put his. "Nadi'al and her sons… I will leave at first light."
As he slept, visions of what could have been, and what was now possible encompassed Elrond's sleeping mind. In his first set of visions, he saw the his brother's line as more human, himself being a more distant relation. His brother's grandson falling under the power of the ring, his older sons, and himself, falling because of it. He saw the division of the kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor, a dark shadow hiding before the land, seeping in and laying in wait. A creature coming from the evil of the ring, goblins and orcs and all manner of dark machinations preparing for battle. A small, innocent finding the ring and facing a dragon! This innocent becoming corrupted over time from the ring, only to pass it to another who resisted it's power. There were nine, he saw, to rise and stand with the new ring bearer and their struggles and the wars that would nearly destroy before this one would have the power to destroy the ring. He felt the pain of that future, and then a peace that it would now never be.
The second vision showed the sorrow at the loss of so many in this last battle, a council of light rising to ensure that it would never be again. He saw this council sending warriors to eradicate that darkness which had overshadowed them for so long. Creatures of darkness being cleanse by light magic, and where it was not enough, the darkness being destroyed off the land. He saw his brother's bloodline spread over the land, keeping it safe from the evil that took their forebears. Countless cities and villages prospering, small strives rising up and quickly brought down. He saw the progress of men, dwarves and halflings as they came together with elves. He saw many of his kin leave for the west, bringing dear friends of other races with them to the undying lands. Magic and peace flourishing, love and kindness taking the place of hate and greed, until there was no more in all the land.
As the sun's light began to stretch over the horizon that morning, Elrond knew he had done the right thing.
10,000 years later…
"Grampa! Grampa!" A small child ran down the glistening corridor, just out of his father's reach as he made his way to the peaceful library. "Look Daddy maked me!" The child held out a carved figure as he tried to climb, one handed, onto his grandfather's lap.
"Well, that is indeed a marvelous… creation, Eldarion." Elrond puzzled over the shape as his son-in-law came around the corner.
"I am sorry, Lord Elrond, Darion knows better." Panting, Lord Aragorn tried his best to give his son a stern look. "Come along, little one, Grandfather has important work."
"No, Aragorn, it is quite alright." Elrond gestured to the extra chair at the table. "Come, sit. Eldarion, tell me of this carving your father has made you." Eldarion snuggled into his grandfather's lap and looked at his father, beaming in pleasure at having both of his favorite people in one place.
"It is nothing, really. Darion desired a dragon for a tale he was making. He had his dwarves, and a hobbit, but insisted that he needed a dragon." Aragorn laughed softly, as his son bounced excitedly on his grandfather's knee.
"Da hobbit is going to help the dwarves get their moun'n from the dragon!" Eldarion said, waving the dragon around as he explained.
"Oh really? And where did this dragon come from?" Elrond indulged, the story sounding so familiar, like a forgotten dream.
"I dunno… bu' he a bad dragon. Berry ba'." Elrond and Aragorn chuckled as the little boy leapt up and ran out of the room again.
"I'd best go after him." Aragorn took chase down the hall, hoping to prevent any disasters, leaving Elrond to his thoughts. He stood and walked to a corner of the library, searching the shelves until at last, he came across an old scroll. It had been 10,000 years since he had thought about it, but as he read over the account he had given of his visions the night after the final battle, he found the account of the small hobbit who would have found the Ring of Power.
Well, Bilbo, your story is not forgotten. Arwen's son has the gift. I wonder… what ever happened to you? The Elf Lord wondered as he sat mussing in his now quiet library. Aragorn, being of the first High King's line through his youngest son, had not been required to become the new High King, but it had fallen on his distant cousin, of the eldest son's line. He was able to peacefully grow up as the Lord of a prosperous village not far from Rivendell, falling in love with Elrond's daughter. They were able to live a peaceful life together.
Elrond had taken time to find those he had seen in vision, but some he had not yet found as he had, quite honestly, forgotten after so many millenia. Legolas had grown up with his loving parents, in the woodlands near the dwarves Lonely Mountain, growing alongside the Mountain king's children and relations, including the young Gimli.
The dragon that was to have ravished the area had long been hunted down and given it's own horde, which the dwarves gave to yearly to keep the beast at peace and remind them not to become greedy. Upon the discovery of the King Stone, it was decided that the stone was compatible for magic and given to the dragon, with an enchantment to keep the beast calm and cleanse the area of any residual dragon-sickness.
Along with the Dragon Tax, the dwarves had agreed long ago not to go too deep into the mountains, as it was considered dangerous. Any strange findings were brought to the Council of Races, who would thoroughly exam any possibility of danger or darkness, and had been able to keep peace these long millenia.
It was a help that the land of the hobbits was not completely isolated from the rest of the world as there had not been any reason to fear the big folk all that time. The hobbits and river folk had flourished in their simple peace and were well known for their pipeweed and ale, drawing great crowds during their festival month.
Now, as Elrond's thoughts began to turn to the Shire, and the vision he had had so long ago, another vision filled his mind, of the Young Bilbo, finding love and settling down after traveling the trade lines, and, later, adopting his orphaned nephew, the young Frodo. Frodo and Samwise grew and found love of their own, never having to leave the peace of the Shire. The cousins, Merriweather and Peregrine, also grew, found mischief and were shaped up from work on the tradeline, which lead them to finding love outside the Shire, among the dwarrow women. It had become a common thing, after so long without strife between the races, for there to be uniting of culture and people.
As Elrond's vision came to a close, he realized now, more than ever, that the ring's destruction was worth this peace to envelope the lands.