No Peace in Imladris
Word Count: 719
Rating: K+/PG
Disclaimer: Normally I'm wittier, but... I got nothing. I would say I own nothing, but that's not true. I created the original characters that are driving the plot, so... I guess I own something.
Summary: Pre-fellowship. Late in the night, Elrond counsels a troubled young elf but is unable to reach him.
Author's Note: So while chapter thirteen of Storms is kind of a mess, one I might have to take down and redo since it tried to introduce too much and all of that might not work, I started thinking about Aragorn's reaction to his family knowing Firyavaryar and the others, and I was tempted to expand on their brief time in Imladris to explain that, and I almost did write a piece with the twins and Sérëdhiel.
I thought it was better to do this, though, the reason they left.
No Peace in Imladris
"Your sleep is restless," Elrond observed, coming up to stand beside the elfling looking down at the courtyard below. Perhaps the rain had drawn him here. It would not be the first occasion when he had found this young one staring at the rain, reminding him of Mithrandir's words concerning the child. Pity stirred in Elrond's heart, his healer's eyes aware of all the injuries that lingered, slow to heal, that the young elf tried to conceal. "This is the third night I have seen you walk the halls. You should be resting. Your body has not yet healed."
Yet it was the spirit that was troubled this night. That was clear in the child's words.
"Are all dreams portents?"
Elrond looked at him, uncertain why the child asked what he already knew. He had not shared this one's dreams—his mind remained unreachable even now when his fever had passed. "No. They are not. Some are memories. Some are what might have been. Some are what we wish to occur. Some are what may come to pass."
The elfling's lip trembled. "And if we do not want it to come to pass?"
"Many things there are that we do not want to see come to pass." Elrond had lived almost three thousand years in the shadow of such a moment, where the strength of men failed and evil was allowed to continue. That shadow continued to haunt the world. Sauron could regain the ring, and the world would fall. "They may still come regardless of your actions."
The voice that spoke seemed younger than the one Elrond had heard, younger than this one's years or the terrible understanding that he knew the child possessed. "It is my actions that I fear."
Elrond nodded. He knew that to be the source of this young one's distress, that which kept him from complete healing. This wound was in the spirit, and Elrond knew the elf would carry it for the rest of his life. "What is it you fear you will do?"
The elfling lowered his head. "I am going to betray him."
The elf-lord stiffened. He knew of only one person those words would apply to, and he knew what risk there was in any harm coming to the other elfling. "You have seen this?"
The young elf nodded, not looking at Elrond. "It has been in my dreams every night since we came here. I can find no peace. It is inevitable, isn't it?"
Some fates were set, but some were unknown. Some choices remained, and those choices still determined the fate of others. "You may yet make a choice that will change it. Often what we see most is our greatest fear."
"What happens when that fear is yourself?"
Elrond reached over to place a hand on the elfling's shoulder. "What we fear in ourselves is what we must overcome."
The young elf's eyes were bright when he looked up at him. "I cannot see a way to overcome this. If I must choose between my family and my friend, I will choose them. I will betray him."
Elrond did not envy the child that knowledge. Most would not even contemplate such a decision, but to know what that outcome would be was an altogether different sort of torment. "Then perhaps you must find a way that will keep you from making that choice."
"I can never go back, not to Greenwood," the child whispered, closing his eyes in pain. "I can never see him again."
Some would see that decision as a weakness. Others would consider it noble. Elrond made no judgment. "If that is your choice."
"I cannot say here in Imladris."
"Perhaps not."
This time the voice was resolute. "No. He would come here, and we cannot be here if he does. I cannot be here. We will leave in the morning. I thank you for your hospitality, but I know I cannot remain. I would ask for my family to be able to, for they have found solace here, but if they do—No. We must all leave in the morning."
Elrond nodded. He would not dissuade the youth from this course, nor would he waste time trying. "You will always be welcome here."
Dark eyes met his. "Not if I betray Legolas."
