Chapter 2


Lord Elrond stepped off of the boat, and he marveled at the fact that the shores had not seemed to have changed, though forty years had passed. He had vowed to himself that he would never return…yet return he had.

Elidea had never left his mind, and he hoped against hope that she might still be alive.

No one knew that he was here.

He had come in secret, knowing that to make his presence known would only invite danger.

He had only one reason for being there and one reason alone. He wanted to find her. No…he needed to find her. He needed to find her and tell her that he could not live without her, that the past forty years had been painful for him and that no one came close to meaning as much to him as she did.

He headed for Rivendell, first, hoping to find a sign of her there.

As he arrived, he again noted how little had changed since he and his people had left it. The wild had not yet overtaken it.

He walked down the familiar paths and followed them to the walkway where he'd said his last goodbyes to Elidea…where he'd last held her.

His hand brushed against the wall, much like it had the last time that he'd been there. He relished the familiar feel, but at the same time ached to be holding her instead of simply recalling the sensations of touching her skin.

He wandered for several hours, but could no sign of anyone being there since he'd left.

Going back to where his horse was waiting, he carefully probed his memory, trying to think of any place else that she might be, other than with her family in the north.

He was hesitant to go north, as he knew what dangers lurked there, and that many of them were hostile to the Elves.

But he also knew that she was most likely in Ered Mithrin, the Grey Mountains. A place he'd only been once in his long, extensive lifetime. He could only remember miserable rain and not being dry for several days in a row. He did not want to go…but he had to. For her. It had been her home and where she would go back to.

As he journeyed, he kept his hood up and disguised his voice, hiding his identity. Being one of the Elven Lords, he was bound to draw attention should anyone realize that he was back in Middle Earth.

Elidea could very possibly still be alive…she would be in her eighties, but look to be in her forties. She was alive; he could feel it in his bones.

But would her heart still be his?

He remembered some of her last words to him… "My heart is yours. Ilyamenie."

She had promised him forever, and he had promised the same to her, words that were not taken lightly. When Lord Elrond made a promise, he kept it, and he had. His heart was forever in her hands. But the question remained…was her heart still in his?

The journey was long, taking more than a few days, and he had a few brief delays as the weather was not permitting at times, making difficult or nigh onto impossible to travel.

Finally, he arrived, his body tired, but his mind fiercely alert.

The royal hall was large and grand, and he was surprised to be so readily welcome, as he'd kept his hood up and his face hidden.

Two men welcomed him at the gates to the city and offered to find him lodging, which he gracefully accepted, and then asked…

"Where might I find a woman by the name of Elidea?"

At this question, the man who'd been about to take his horse to the stables suddenly stopped and shared a look with the guard who stood next to the Elvish lord. The man shifted on his feet, looking down at the ground and then back to the stranger.

"The Lady Elidea is, of course, at the Hall. If you wish, you may announce yourself and she will decide whether or not to receive you," said the guard next to him.

He could see the respect they had for her in the way they spoke her name, in hushed and reverent tones.

Elrond nodded, and slipped up past them to walk the path to the Hall.

He had seen it as he'd approached the city, the stone walls reaching high towards the mountains behind it, its presence a powerful and strong one, undiminished by the fact that it had started to rain yet again, and storm clouds seemed to sit right above it, bearing down on the massive stone court.

His leather boots made no sound on the floor as he passed through the doors into the royal hall.

It wasn't silent, but as he made his way to the central hall, passing by those who worked in the court, the sounds of human interaction diminished from loud, loose, carefree, and casual conversation, to whispers that drifted on the air for a mere breath before finding their way into the ears of the few people that were huddled close together, papers in their hands, their eyes much more sharp and almost accusing as they watched him pass through.

Everything was immaculately clean, as well as everyone, and he became aware of the fact that the mud that clung to the hemline of his cloak and caked his shoes was distinctly not welcome.

But then he heard a voice that, for some strange reason, seemed familiar…

"Let King Aragorn know that we are more than willing to help, but we have few men, and I'd like to see that they have rest between their raids."

A low voice answered, "Yes, sir," and then he saw a man disappear down a narrow hallway off of the room where he stood. He could only see the man from the back, but he could tell that he was young…only in his twenties.

Long black hair tangled over his shoulders, and when he turned, Lord Elrond found himself looking into eyes that he would recognize anywhere.

They were her eyes.

So, he thought to himself. She has moved on. She'd obviously found someone, as she had a son.

He started to turn away, but the young man's voice rang out, a tone of authority lacing his words in such a way as to command the Elven lord's attention.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?"

Lord Elrond kept his face cloaked, but let his voice ring out, feeling the need to voice his own authority, not letting himself be run over by a young man. He squared his shoulders as he spoke, straightening his spine so that he was at his full height, which was usually intimidating to most men, but he found that the young man was practically his own height.

"I am here to see the Lady Elidea. Who are you?"

The young man did not answer his question, instead his hand going to the sword at his waist, his eyes flashing accusingly.

"Remove your hood and let me see your face stranger, else I remove it for you," he said, his voice low and dangerous, and Elrond could see the man's fingers tighten on the hilt of his weapon, a clear sign of how he meant to remove the hood.

Slowly, Elrond brought his hands to the edges of the hood…and let it drop.

The young man gave him a slow look his eyes narrowing.

"Have we met before…?"

Elrond shook his head, and slowly came to the realization that there was something else that was disturbingly familiar about the man in front of him. His bone structure was finer than that he'd seen of Men from the northern lands, his weight on his feet more light.

Almost as though he had…no, it was impossible.

Quickly, he turned his face, but then the young man stepped forward, dropping his hand from the sword.

"I am Elros, son of Elidea. Now I ask for your name, stranger."

Elrond froze. The man could not have said what he had just said; it was not possible. That name…he knew that name intimately. But why did this man have it? How had he come by it? Elrond then slowly realized that he had said that he was Elros, son of Elidea. He had not given his father's name, but his mother's. Did he have no father?

Quickly, he responded.

"I am Elrond, son of Eärendil." He tilted his head towards him, a show of respect, and Elros returned it. "I wish to speak to Lady Elidea."

He gave Elrond a long look, unsure of how to take the man in front of him; whether or not he should take him at his word…but then he relented and motioned his head towards him in deference.

"Follow me."

With long strides that quickly carried him away, Elrond followed, unable to not notice the fact that the man moved just as lightly on his feet as he did. His stride was as long as Elrond's as well, but his bearing was slightly heavier in the shoulder.

Soon, they were in what Elrond assumed to be the throne room, and Elros lifted a hand towards him.

"Stay here."

He then walked further into the throne room and approached a woman from behind, gently placing a hand on her shoulder, wordlessly asking her to turn around. She had dark hair, and as she turned, he suddenly recognized who it was.

She was several years older, but it was still her.

Elidea.

Their eyes caught, and though he couldn't hear her, he could see her chest rise as she drew in a sharp breath. Slowly, with a hand outstretched, she walked towards him, not noticing the look of confusion that cross her son's face.

"It can't be…?"

Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it sounded as loud as thunder to his ears.

Before anyone could react, she had lunged forward and her arms were around him; in gentle reciprocation, his slid around her waist, holding her a carefully as he could.

He could feel her crying into his neck and he wanted nothing more than to lift her head and kiss away every single tear, but he was very aware of the fact that nearly every eye in the room was on them, but he couldn't help but feel a bit selfish, tightening his hold for a brief second around her waist.

He slowly let her go, giving a nod to her son behind her, and then whispered into Elidea's ear.

"We should talk."

She nodded, lifted a hand to her face and quickly brushed away the hot trails of wetness that tracked down her cheeks. She then turned her head and motioned to Elros, who stepped forward and she lovingly patted a hand against his chest and said, "I would like to walk with this man for a few minutes…alone."

She gave him a pointed look, and Elros simply nodded and turned towards the two guards who had been lingering nearby the entire time.

They left, but just before she departed she briefly wrapped her arms around her son's shoulders, giving him a hug, and whispered into his ear…

"I will explain…I promise."

And with that, she let Elrond take her arm and escort her to just beyond the room, where they could walk along one of the many covered pathways that surrounded the massive structure. He was still trying to realize that she was here, that she was real; that it was her hand on his arm.

They said nothing for the longest time, simply basking in each other's presence. She finally broke the silence.

"What are you doing here, Elrond?"

He turned to her, lifting a hand to her face, running his fingers down her jawline.

'I would think that the answer to that question is apparent," he said, his voice low and promising, giving her a look with a raised brow.

She ducked her head, feeling her cheeks burn at the warm sincerity and hopefulness of his words. He had always been able to put so much meaning into a few simple short words, and she both loved and hated him for it. How easily he could make her blush.

Elidea lifted her eyes back up to his, and he could see that she was older…but she was still as beautiful to him as she was the day that they had parted.

His fingers slid down to her neck, caressing the soft skin that he found there and a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he saw and heard her react to his touch with a sharply drawn in breath.

Gently, she put her fingers over his and pulled his hand away, holding it tightly in her own fingers.

"That's not an answer," she said, her tone low and serious, and he felt his chest tighten in response to her words, and he quickly replied, his tone biting and scathing as he did.

"Why do you think I came back, Elidea? I came back for you! Only for you…" His voice drifted and he gave her a look full of pain and he saw her eyes darken slightly as he then said, "But it seems that you have moved on. Your son…who is his father?"

At this question, she abruptly pulled away from him, her posture becoming defensive, and he immediately worried.

Was the man dangerous? Had he hurt her? Had he tried to hurt Elros? What on earth would make her react this way to such a simple question?

He reached out for her arm, but she pulled back, her eyes clouded over, almost as though she were recalling a painful memory, and all he could think about was what he could do to ease her pain. What he could do to remove that look from her face.

Finally, she said, "If I tell you, do you promise not to hate me?"

"Hate you?" he asked her, confused. "How could I ever hate you?"

She let out a short, painful bark of laughter and gave him a look that had his heart aching for her all the more.

"You'd be surprised how easy it might come to you, my love…you'd be surprised."

He merely reached back out to her and took both of her hands in his, trying to convey to her that he would love her no matter what she might tell him. That he was prepared for the answers that she was to give him; that he could endure it.

"Please, Elidea…tell me."

Her gaze turned soft, and she said, "Do you remember the day you left?" He nodded and she continued. "Yes, well…so do I…" She turned slightly, though her hands were still in his and then she continued to speak, her voice impossibly soft.

"There was so much that I wanted to tell you that day…so much that I wish that I could have said. However, this was the hardest to keep from you…"

She looked up at him and he was surprised by the naked honesty in her gaze.

"You see, Elrond…you are his father."


Part 2/?