A/N: Hi everyone! So sorry that I am such a rotten liar and took so long with this chapter. To make up for it, it is really long and has a lot of resolutions to a few things. The next chapter is also mostly written, and while it is a filler chapter with only a bit of action, it is an important filler chapter. Hopefully, I should have it ready in a few days, and then you can enjoy it. And then it is on to the big battle at the keep. That may take a while to write because I want it to be perfect, but I think you will like it.
And now please read, review, and enjoy! And thank you to all our first responders and frontline workers! We appreciate you and honor you every day. Stay safe and healthy!
A week of steady travel and the Steward and his company were at the borders of Rivendell.
At least, he thought it was the border. He had never been to Rivendell before and was guessing as to its exact location. But what rumors and stories he had heard led him to these woods in particular, and so he could only hope he was right. He slowed his horse, those behind him doing the same, and Hithaer asked, "What is wrong, my lord?"
He surveyed the woods carefully, then said, "It is too quiet."
Hithaer hesitated a moment, then her eyes widened as she listened for any sound. Even though winter was ending and the world was stirring again from its winter sleep, birds were already starting to appear. Now, though, the bird calls were silent and it seemed as though nature was waiting for something.
Or someone, Cirion realized.
He turned his head slightly, keeping his eyes on the trail before him, "Stay vigilant but do not draw your weapons. We are not the enemy they are guarding against; let us give them no reason to think so."
"Well said, Master Human," a voice to his left said, and Cirion whipped his head around, along with everyone else behind him. At first, he saw nothing, and then he slowly looked up into the trees. Again he saw nothing at first, but then a shadow broke away from the others clinging to the trees and leaped to the ground. It straightened, revealing a being with a face that was elven-fair, pointed ears, and long, silver hair. He looked at the Steward with wary eyes that were cold as ice, distrust easy to see.
He stared at the Steward a moment longer before surveying the rest of the men, stopping for a slight second on Hithaer and Reineth before returning to Cirion. He then asked, "I wonder what your business is here, so far from anything?"
Cirion answered, "We are looking for Rivendell, or Imladris, as I heard it is called in the elven-tongue."
The elf's stance tensed slightly, and his eyes hardened, "And why are you searching for the Last Homely House?"
Cirion's attention stayed on the elf, "I am the Steward of Gondor, Cirion. We have come to aid in the search for the hunters."
The elf tensed even more and raised a hand. Immediately the area was flooded with elves, surrounding the troop and watching them warily. Several had arrows drawn, others had their swords at the ready. All were ready to fight and defend.
Cirion surveyed the elves carefully, then looked at his men. Many were watching the elves nervously, and some had hands on their own blades. None had drawn them yet, and Cirion only said, "At ease," turning back to the elf that had appeared first. He was still standing where he had been before, only this time he was looking at the Steward curiously. In response to the Steward's look, the elf said, "You say you are the Steward, and you are here for hunters, but what proof as to your identity do you have?"
The Steward smiled slightly before reaching inside his cloak and slowly pulling out the Seal of the Steward. That the elf recognized it was clear, but he only said, "No message was sent in regards to your arrival. We were not told to expect you."
"That is my failure, master elf," the Steward said, "I did not want a message intercepted, so I sent none. I should have known that it would cause some tension, given the circumstances."
The elf nodded and snapped a command in Elvish. Immediately the majority of the elves disappeared back into the forest, while some stayed and horses appeared on their own. A large, red stallion went to the silver-haired elf, while another elf mounted his horse and raced away.
"He will let the valley know you are coming," the elf said in response to Cirion's confused look, "And we will escort you the rest of the way," nodding at the elves that had mounted their horses.
"My thanks, master elf," Cirion said, waiting for everyone to get ready. The elf nodded and mounted his stallion, then said almost as an afterthought, "I am Lieutenant Gilornor of Rivendell. Apologies for my lack of manners, and rather cold reception."
"No apologies necessary, lieutenant," Cirion said, "I understand. Things are very tense right now, and aren't likely to change anytime soon."
The elf only nodded, glancing behind himself briefly to make sure all were following. He said nothing during the journey, and Cirion did not press. Everyone was on edge right now. Eventually, they arrived at the pass overlooking the valley, and Cirion drew in a deep breath. Even under a slowly melting blanket of snow Rivendell was breathtaking. Reineth behind him said it best a moment later, "It is so beautiful here!"
Gilornor's lips twitched slightly, while Hithaer quickly hushed her daughter. The other elves also quickly hid smiles, and then they began their descent into the valley. As they did so Cirion looked around, taking in all the buildings and people that gathered to watch them pass. The elves were clearly from different realms, and Cirion remembered belatedly that Gandalf had said in a message that elves from all realms were gathering in Rivendell to march on the fortress of the hunters.
Gandalf had not been exaggerating, Cirion realized as he followed the lieutenant. Also in Rivendell were several Men, and looking close Cirion realized they were Dúnedain, 'They must be here to help in finding the fortress,' Cirion thought as he looked at them, 'They are distant kin to Lord Elrond after all.'
The Dúnedain all nodded and bowed their heads respectfully, except for an older man.
'Isildur's Heir,' Cirion realized, and bowed his head to the man instead, receiving a rather regal nod in return. Cirion could only smile inwardly; that one was definitely a king, even if he would never sit on the White Throne of Minas Tirith.
They continued on, coming quickly to the courtyard of the Main House. There stood Gandalf, alongside many elves. Glancing over them quickly Cirion could see the twin sons of Elrond, a few other lords of Rivendell and the other realms, and...Lord Elrond.
He stood tall and proud, eyes calm and face serene, if a little thinner than the last time Cirion had seen him years ago when he had visited Minas Tirith. But he was there, standing tall and healthy, and he smiled slightly when he made eye contact with the Steward.
He had not changed much, the Steward realized with relief.
He was drawn out of his thoughts by Lord Elrond stepping forward and saying, "Welcome, Steward of Gondor. It is good to see you again."
"And you, my lord," Cirion said as he dismounted and then bowed, "I am afraid I must apologize for showing up unannounced. I hope it is not an inconvenience?"
Elrond smiled again, "We are always ready for travelers my lord. I hope you and your company will be comfortable here and will enjoy your stay."
"Thank you for your hospitality, my lord," Cirion said, watching as his men rode in the direction of the stables, led by Lieutenant Gilornor, while Hithaer, Reineth, Famir, and Haedirn stayed behind after dismounting. Their horses followed the others quickly.
"It is indeed good to see familiar faces again," Lord Elrond's voice drew his attention, and he saw that Lord Elrond was looking at Famir and Haedirn as he said this. The two men bowed and Elrond smiled again. He turned back to the Steward and said, "There will be a feast tonight to celebrate your arrival. I hope you will attend?"
"Of course, my lord," Cirion said, and Elrond nodded. Greetings finished the elves began to disperse, but Lord Elrond stopped for a moment and turned to them, looking at Hithaer and Reineth as he said, "If you go to the gardens, you might see a few flowers in bloom right now," he smiled mysteriously, "It truly is a beautiful sight. Merilinel can take all of you, if you wish," nodding at the she-elf standing nearby.
The two ladies nodded immediately, while Merilinel smiled and led them to the gardens. Elrond smiled to himself and walked away, deciding not to intrude, knowing Merilinel would tell him about it later.
Sure enough, she did, telling him about how Hithaer had run to Cendar and not let go for several long minutes. Cendar, in turn, had not let go either, and they stayed locked in each other's embraces until Hithaer remembered everyone else there and had introduced Cendar to his daughter. That first meeting had been heartwarming, as Cendar had held his daughter for the first time and nearly cried, tears streaming down his cheeks.
The reunion between him, Famir, Haedirn, and Cirion was just as joyful, and then Merilinel had left, deciding to leave them be for a while to reunite properly. Elrond had smiled then and returned to the book he had been reading and the water he was drinking, his body not ready for alcohol and wine just yet. He could not wait for that to change. He was starting to get slightly tired of water, even if it was flavored with lemon or some other fruit.
But first, he needed to do several things.
Many days later, Elrond walked down to the pastures and stables in the pre-dawn light. The Men from Gondor had settled in well and were doing fine, many of them glad to see Cendar again, even though he spent the majority of his time with his wife and daughter.
He had missed a lot and was eager to make up for it. He had also introduced Hithaer and Reineth to Tordag and Eafled, and the two girls had become friends right away. Hithaer had fallen in love with Eafled as well and often looked after her.
Elrond was glad for them, but also excited for another reason: Hadlathon and Mistaro both agreed he was ready to begin his usual level of activity again. He could begin sparring and riding again.
'It has certainly been a long time,' Elrond thought as he entered the stables and walked to Veryafion, who was already awake and was nickering excitedly.
She knew what was about to happen.
"Calm yourself, little lady," he said quietly, "I'm not ready to race your sister, yet," he hurried to say to her disappointed look, "but I am ready to start riding again. Why don't we take it easy today? No saddle, no bridle, like we always do?"
Veryafion was already nodding. She would agree to anything as long as Elrond was on her back again.
Elrond smiled and grabbed her halter and a rope, securing it to her head and tying the rope to both sides of her halter. He led her out of the stables and to her usual pasture, opening the gate and leading her in before shutting it. Once finished he mounted, Veryafion standing completely still as he adjusted and got settled.
She wouldn't do anything that would hurt him.
Once he was settled he gathered the rope and took a deep breath, hoping he still remembered how to ride Veryafion.
It had been a long time.
He gently pressed with his knees, and Veryafion started walking, her stride smooth and easy. She snorted slightly and Elrond pressed a bit harder with his knees; Veryafion moving into a trot in response. He sat quietly, Veryafion's stride so smooth he didn't need to worry about posting. After a few circuits around the pasture, Elrond felt confident enough to ask for one more thing.
He moved his left hand in, Veryafion bending her head in response, and gently squeezed with his outside leg, hoping Veryafion understood what he wanted.
Sometimes Veryafion skipped the canter and went straight into a gallop.
He needn't have worried, Elrond realized as Veryafion transitioned from a trot to a canter smoothly and stayed smooth in her stride. Elrond smiled as he felt the wind pick up slightly. This was where he belonged when he rode: on Veryafion, the wind blowing his hair back, not a care in the world. He could always leave his troubles behind when he was riding Veryafion, and today was no exception.
He could forget about how difficult Elladan was being and how reluctant he was to let Elrond begin his responsibilities again fully and how he was trying to stop Elrond from doing things he could do, like riding.
Which was why Elrond was riding in the dawn of the morning, where none would notice and when none would be awake, especially his son.
Elladan was not an early riser by any stretch of the imagination.
After a few more circles around the pasture at a canter, Elrond turned Veryafion and rode a few circles in that direction before slowing her to a walk to cool her down, not that she had worked up much of a sweat.
"Thank you, Veryafion," Elrond said quietly, his mare turning an ear back to listen, "It has been too long. We should do this every day so that I can build up the strength in my legs again. Then we can race your sister. How does that sound?"
Veryafion bobbed her head, not caring what they did as long as Elrond was riding her.
Elrond smiled as she walked over to the gate, stroking her neck before reaching down to open it and walk Veryafion through.
At least one friend hadn't changed how she treated him.
He latched the gate behind them before riding Veryafion back to the stables and dismounting. Laeron was there already and waiting for him. He only said, "This is a sight I have been waiting to see for a long time, my lord."
"I as well," Elrond said as he rubbed Veryafion's cheek, "I never realized how much I had missed her until I was on her back just now. It felt so right, riding her like we both prefer: bareback."
Laeron nodded, smiling as Veryafion pushed her head closer and closed her eyes, eager for more attention, "She agrees as well, my lord. She has missed you. A lot."
"I have missed her," Elrond said quietly, rubbing Veryafion's head and holding her close. After a few minutes, he looked up and said, "I should brush her out before it gets busy here."
"As you wish my lord," Laeron said, "and perhaps you should visit Urelais? I'm sure he would like to see you."
"I will," Elrond promised before leading Veryafion to the grooming racks and brushing her thoroughly, being gentle with her sensitive spots and massaging other areas deeply. She sighed and relaxed, the tension melting out of her.
She had missed this more than she had realized.
"I missed this too," a voice whispered in her ear, and she nickered. She was so glad he was back and things were getting back to normal.
Once finished Elrond led Veryafion back to her stall, pulling her blanket over her before saying good-bye. She snorted and nudged him in the direction of Urelais' stall before going to investigate what was for breakfast. Elrond smiled as he turned away and walked over to Urelais' stall.
When he got there he was greeted by a heartwarming sight: Urelais was standing!
He was standing on his own with no help, even though Elrond could see that there was a strong splint on his broken leg that was helping support his weight. Urelais wasn't heavily drugged either, as he turned his head in Elrond's direction and nickered, his eyes clear and bright. A blanket still covered him, but Elrond noticed that his weight was improving and so was his health.
Urelais whinnied a throaty greeting, as he always did, before hobbling a few steps closer to the door. Elrond met him halfway by entering the stall and stroking his head, tears in his eyes as he saw how far the stallion had come.
"Urelais, you amaze me every day," he whispered in the stallion's ear, "It is incredible what you have survived. What we have survived," holding the stallion close for a brief moment before pulling away. The stallion shook his head and snorted, snuffling along Elrond's pockets and hands for treats.
Elrond smiled; some things would never change, and Urelais always looking for treats was one of those things.
"I don't have any treats, old friend, but if you let me look at that leg, I will definitely find some later for you," Elrond said, hoping the stallion would agree.
Urelais nodded and Elrond crouched down, running a hand along his leg as he felt where the break was. He found it, and reached out with his senses, smiling a moment later. The fractures and break were healing well, albeit slowly. It would be a long time before Urelais was racing the wind again.
No sooner had that thought entered his mind did Elrond feel a rush of energy and healing as Vilya poured healing into Urelais' leg. Without Urelais' determination and loyalty her Bearer would not have been able to return home, and she had every intention of thanking the stallion.
And this was the best way she knew.
As for Elrond, he could only wait for Vilya to do what she wanted. Once she was finished he checked the leg again, already finding it markedly improved. It still had some healing to do, but now it would take a month instead of a year.
'Thank you, Vilya,' he sent to her and she replied with: 'He deserves so much more than this, but it is a start.'
'I understand what you mean,' Elrond said to her, 'It will be done.'
'Good,' was all she said and was silent again.
Elrond stood carefully and watched as Urelais walked around his stall, no longer hobbling as much. He smiled and turned away, coming face-to-face with Laeron, who only said, "I don't want to know."
"That is likely for the best," Elrond said as he took the carrot Laeron offered and gave it to Urelais, "Just know he will be fully healed sooner than expected."
"Good," Laeron said, "He will be glad to get out of that stall."
Elrond smiled and left, stopping briefly to greet Gledswith as she was led out to pasture, eyeing her stomach for a moment before leaving the stables and going back to the House. He had to speak with Mistaro and Hadlathon, then try and find Galadriel. She had been avoiding him for a long time, and it was getting ridiculous.
What was she so afraid of?
The next day, hundreds of miles away, Goliath sighed as he read the message from his lady. He had been hoping it would not come to this, but alas...it had come to this, and he had no good way to help the she-elf. The entire fortress knew what their lady wanted him to do, and even though he had been able to spare Mariam and Conner, there was no way to help the she-elf.
Almost everyone would be watching the show from the seats.
Goliath sighed again; there was no way out of it now. He could only hope the she-elf was still a fighter and as fast as the day she had nearly escaped. He walked down the hallway, coming to the cell the she-elf was held in. He entered along with his men, taking the she-elf while his men held the Rangers at bay. She went willingly, but Goliath could tell from how tense she was she still had a lot of fight left in her.
Good, she was going to need it.
He whispered to her, "You only have one chance now. That warg is hungry."
She tensed, eyes wide with fear, and said nothing as he led her to the largest room where the warg was kept. The room was like a small arena, where people could watch, but not many did often. Today was different though, there were many people there eager to see the warg kill the elf that had given them so much trouble.
Sometimes their lady fed their friends to the warg, but the elf was not a friend and they were all ready for a good show. Goliath seldom stayed to watch, unable to watch as living beings were fed to a warg for other's amusement. Today though, Goliath would stay and he would watch. He would try to help her as best as he could, even if that meant giving himself away.
"Breathe," he said quietly as they came to the door, "You are not alone, even if you think you are," pressing something into her hand that she gripped as hard as she could.
She would not go down without a fight, Goliath could see that and he nodded inwardly.
Maybe she did have a chance after all.
Avorneth was terrified, but the knife Goliath had just given her gave her some confidence and allayed the confusion in her mind. He was a friend in this terrible place, and he would help her. He already had, she realized, feeling the edge of the long knife. It was sharp and keen, just what she needed. She had never fought a warg before, but she knew how from stories the Marchwardens told. It was difficult, especially when alone, but not impossible.
When Goliath opened the door, Avorneth was surprised to see an underground arena. The pit with the warg was below, and there were even seats above to watch what happened to those unfortunate enough to be forced to combat the warg. There were many in the seats, watching and waiting for a show that would end in death for one of them.
And snarling in the pit, tied to the wall, was the warg. It was a southern warg, but no less ugly than a northern one. It was a dirty yellowish-brown with a short snout and beady eyes. It was thin and clearly starved, which became even clearer when it struggled against the rope, even trying to scratch the rope off with its filthy claws and cutting its neck open.
It was desperate for meat and would rush her as soon as it could. She would only last a few minutes, meaning she would have to be faster than the warg.
And more cunning.
"Its stomach is its weak spot, and the underside of its neck," Goliath whispered to her, "Just be faster than it, and you'll be fine. I will help if you need me. You won't be a meal for a warg today."
Avorneth nodded shakily, then inwardly steeled herself. She was no weakling or coward, and she had always faced her troubles and never run from them.
She would not start running now.
Goliath led her to the side of the pit, and then she was pushed in. Expecting it, she landed lightly on her feet and oriented herself, making sure the knife was still in her hand. A snarl drew her attention, and she turned to the warg. It was straining against the rope, eager to get to her and feast.
It knew what she was and was eager for elf-flesh.
There was a flash of light above the warg, and it was free!
Someone had cut it loose!
It ran straight towards her, desperate for meat. She timed her moves carefully, then sprang into action. She pivoted to the side and ducked low, slashing at the warg's stomach with her knife. The knife came away red with blood and the warg jumped away, howling with pain. Avorneth watched it carefully, and above her, Goliath smiled inwardly.
This she-elf knew how to fight, and fight well.
The warg charged again, and this time Avorneth let it leap into the air. She leaped as well, knife at the ready. She cut the warg again, this time cutting from its neck all the way down. But it wasn't a deep cut, and the warg retreated again. It didn't stay away and almost immediately charged. This time Avorneth dropped low and disappeared under the warg, which suddenly went limp and collapsed on top of her.
Goliath drew in a deep breath, as did others that were watching, and he didn't let it out until he saw Avorneth struggle out from under the dead warg. As she did so the warg moved limply, revealing the knife she had thrust into its brain from the underside of its jaw.
She had succeeded, Goliath realized, and more importantly: proven that the woman had no control over her life or will. She would live or die by her own choice, not anyone else's. And that, Goliath realized as he went down to collect the she-elf, was the most important thing of all. Today, that she-elf had proven that nothing they did to her could break her.
And that was the best lesson to learn, and the ultimate proof that fear never wins in the end.
Avorneth, back in the cell, only told the Rangers a summary of what happened before she fell asleep. She was exhausted and desperately needed rest, and the Rangers let her be.
But they all admired her bravery and courage.
Her dreams that night were restless and chaotic, but when she woke she realized they weren't dreams. Seeing Lord Elrond free, in Rivendell, his eyes calm and face serene, said everything to her.
They would be free again, soon.
They just needed to keep fighting and hoping.
Days after Avorneth fought the warg and survived Elrond stood in front of the doors to a place he had been avoiding for a while now. Not because he was afraid, but because he knew he hadn't been ready for a long time.
Now he was...he hoped.
Steeling himself and taking a deep breath, Elrond reached out and opened one of the double doors, then walked into his study for the first time in almost three years.
Not much had changed, he realized as he looked around. Everything was exactly as he had left it when he had left the valley so long ago. His desk was still a mess, books and scrolls he had been transcribing and translating were still on shelves and book stands, his favorite letter opener was still next to a few paperweights and inkwells on his desk.
Turning around slowly, Elrond took in his study. Everything looked the same, but as he came around to look at the wall where many different paintings and scenic tapestries hung, he stopped short.
There was a new painting there, and Elrond smiled as tears came to his eyes. It was a beautiful scene of Veryafion and two little black fillies, one almost completely hidden behind her mother while the other stood brave and proud. The background and stream Elrond recognized from Veryafion's favorite pasture, but there was no fence stopping her from racing the wind.
"Edhelvain painted it," a voice behind him said, and he turned quickly in surprise. Galadriel stood there in the doorway, and she smiled as she shut the door behind her, "She wanted you to know what the fillies looked like when they were young."
Elrond smiled softly, "It is a beautiful painting, I will thank her as soon as possible."
Galadriel nodded, but her eyes were uncertain and she wouldn't maintain eye contact with Elrond. Elrond cocked his head in confusion, then said, "You aren't here to talk about Edhelvain and Avorneth, are you?"
Galadriel only shook her head, and Elrond sighed inwardly. He had been expecting this conversation for months and was honestly surprised it had taken so long.
Galadriel never hid if she could help it, and was always straightforward. For her to be hiding now, it must mean that things were worse for her than she was letting on, and needed some help coming to terms with things and guilt she had been dealing with for a long time. He motioned to the couch and she followed, sitting next to him silently. Elrond only waited patiently, waiting for her to find the words she needed.
Eventually, she did.
"I am sorry, Elrond," she whispered, eyes on her hands in her lap.
Elrond raised an eyebrow and cocked his head, completely confused, "Sorry? For what?"
"For doubting you, for not believing in you, for not trying harder to find you, for so many things I should have done but did not," Galadriel said softly, "I failed you in so many ways, I did not want your blame or contempt, and so I stayed away. I did not deserve anything from you, other than contempt, and so I stayed away."
Elrond was silent for many long moments, trying to wrap his head around what she was saying, and could not keep the shock off his face. His own kin and mother-in-law, who had helped raise him and his brother so many years ago, thought he hated her!
How could she think that?!
Elrond finally collected himself after many long minutes, reaching over and grasping her tightly clenched hands in one of his. She looked up in surprise, and tears came to her eyes when she saw no apathy or contempt, only love and sincerity, in Elrond's eyes and on his face. He pulled her gently to him and held her close for many long minutes, then said quietly, "I could never blame you for anything, Galadriel. You don't need to apologize for anything."
"Yes I do!" she exclaimed, pulling away from his embrace, "I gave up Elrond! I gave up on you! How could I do that? Why didn't I try harder?"
"Because, Galadriel, you worked with the best information you had," Elrond replied calmly, "You did what you thought you should knowing what you did. I do not fault you for that."
"Then what do you fault me for?" Galadriel asked bleakly, certain there was something he would blame her for.
"Nothing," Elrond said bluntly, "Absolutely nothing. You are not all-seeing, Galadriel, and you are not Eru Ilúvatar who sees and knows all. How could I blame you for anything?"
"But –"
"No," Elrond said firmly, "I hold no blame or contempt against you, not now, not ever. I owe you more than you can imagine, Galadriel, I will not taint our relationship with blame and hatred."
Galadriel smiled faintly, "You certainly are the wiser of us, my son. I can hear the wisdom of experience in your words. I will certainly take it to heart. And I don't think I ever did say this, but welcome home. You have been greatly missed."
Elrond smiled, letting her pull him into her embrace this time and holding her close, so glad to hear those words from her. It truly meant he was home once more.
They embraced for many long minutes until Galadriel finally ended it and held Elrond at arm's length, looking him over carefully before smiling gently and saying, "We just need to put some meat on those bones now. You are still too thin," but her words were gentle and motherly as she said so.
Elrond smiled in return, "I am gaining back my weight and strength steadily. Maeassil is making sure I am well fed. Soon I will get fully back into my routines."
"I know," Galadriel said softly, "Almost everyone knows you are riding Veryafion every morning. It is good to see things returning to normal."
Elrond nodded happily, "I am glad things are returning to normal," he looked around his study, "And I am glad for the peace of this place. It has healed me more quickly than anything a healer could devise. Now I understand why other races call our realms havens. We truly can heal anything here, in time."
Galadriel smiled, "Yes we can. But we both know it is only temporary healing for you, my son," he looked at her but did not deny it, "You will soon need healing this valley cannot give."
"I know," Elrond said softly, "But not for many long years," and Foresight was evident in his eyes.
As for Galadriel, she only shuddered slightly, knowing Elrond did not feel the pull of the Sea very strongly yet. He still had much to do and see in Middle-Earth before the Sea called him home, and Galadriel could only hope none of it would destroy him, but she doubted it.
The line of Turgon and Elu Thingol was often blessed and cursed at the same time, and it would be no different in later years.
But until then Galadriel decided to not borrow trouble and only said, "Well...now we only need to get you back in fighting shape. We can't have Thranduil thinking he is better than you; it would inflate that arrogance of his too much!"
Elrond stared at her in surprise for several long minutes before starting to chuckle. It soon dissolved into full-blown laughter that Galadriel gladly joined, grateful the tension was broken and everything was truly back to normal between them.
It had been too long since they had been so carefree.
And when she left awhile later, she turned to shut the door and saw Elrond sit in his chair behind his desk, and it was then that she truly believed everything would be fine, truly fine. Elrond was truly back, and she smiled as she saw Elladan come her way and looking ready to enter the study, "Your father is already there Elladan, make sure you knock."
"Yes, Daernaneth," he said quietly, then asked worriedly, "Is he ready?"
Galadriel smiled gently, "More than ready, my heart. He has been more than ready for a long time."
Elladan bowed his head, "I know, daernana, it is just hard to think so after what we saw when we found him."
Galadriel smiled again gently, "I understand your uncertainty, Elladan, but know that he is ready. Have faith in him, Elladan, just as he has faith in you."
Elladan nodded quietly and continued on his way; Galadriel watching as he quietly knocked on the study door and entered after being invited in. Father and son were very much alike, Galadriel knew, and soon they would butt heads in such a way the entire valley would know.
Elladan was about to realize why none dared tell Elrond Half-elven what he should do with himself in terms of his activities and his health.
It would not be a pretty sight or sound when it finally happened.
Two weeks later, deep in the forests surrounding Rivendell, Elros and Feren watched the hunters. Watched as they went about their daily lives and watched as the woman became crueler and crueler to her men.
Clearly, she was getting tired of waiting for something to happen.
One day, as they watched, the woman received a message by dove that so infuriated her that she lashed out at one of her men. Her rage was such that the man never even saw the knife coming or his life ending, surprise the last emotion he felt before his life and spirit left his body.
As for Feren and Elros, they were disgusted and dismayed by what they saw, but were given no time to react as they continued to watch the woman. Right now, she was talking to her second-in-command and the young one Aran Thranduil had thought was her son:
"What happened, my lady?" her second asked.
"She survived," the woman said angrily, "By everything unholy in this world, she survived."
"Who?" her son asked.
"That she-elf!" both elves immediately had their full attention on the conversation as the woman continued: "She survived and even killed the warg that was supposed to end her existence. According to the message, Goliath decided to give her a knife to make the fight more interesting. Apparently, he didn't know she knew how to use it!"
The two elves exchanged satisfied glances and relieved smiles at hearing that news, but their attention was still on the woman as she continued, "Her punishment for her near-escape must still be given, and I know what to do. Deliver this message to the keep, and make sure Goliath does not receive it. I am starting to doubt his loyalty to me," handing her second a message she had been writing during the entire conversation.
"Yes, my lady, it will be done," her second said promptly and walked away quickly after a bow, leaving the woman and her son alone.
She looked at her son and smiled, "Soon, my son, soon the hunt will begin again, and we will be rewarded for all our hard work."
Her son smiled at that and nodded before walking away to tend his horse and get it ready to move out once more. Elros and Feren knew that their camp still moved every day, making it difficult to find them unless one already knew where they were. The two captains looked at each other and nodded before slipping away, the two elves on watch duty staying behind. Once out of earshot of the hunters Elros said, "We need to inform Aran Thranduil and Ernil Legolas of this immediately. Perhaps they can do something, or at least have a plan in place."
Feren nodded, and the two captains quickly went back to the flet to send Mithien on her way, only to arrive and see that Mithien was in no condition to fly anywhere, her wing badly sprained. They would have to wait to send her with a message for the king.
Almost two weeks after Elros and Feren saw the woman kill yet another one of her men, Elrond was getting ready for something he had not done for a while. He was dressed in a simple tunic and trousers, with strong boots and wrist guards. Normally he didn't wear wrist guards while sparring, but he knew his wrists were still a bit weak and would need some support until his muscles were stronger.
Finally dressed, Elrond turned to the weapons rack in his room, already knowing what he would see: Hadhafang, his knife, and belt were there. As soon as his vision had returned he had looked for his blade and knife, not remembering what had happened to either when he was captured, and terrified that he would never get them back. The blade had belonged to his grandmother, then his father, and now him, and he saw it as a physical reminder of those that had come before him. His knife held as much importance to him: a gift from Círdan that reminded him of the love the old mariner had for him and his brother, even after all these years. It was a reminder that even if he was an orphan in some aspects, he still had family in other aspects that were just as important, if not more so.
He walked over and strapped the belt around his waist, the weight familiar and somewhat comforting. He drew Hadhafang, feeling the edge of the blade with his finger and finding it sharp and smooth. It had been so long since he had held his blade, and he was acutely aware of how much he owed Gandalf and Coruon. Without them, he doubted he would have Hadhafang and his knife back, or his wedding ring.
The beautiful ring was back on his finger where it belonged; Elrond having put it on as soon as he had had the strength to do so.
He never wanted to be parted from it again.
Realizing he was keeping Glorfindel waiting, Elrond quickly sheathed his sword and left his chambers and walked to the training grounds, glad it was still very early morning.
He did not want an audience for his first sparring session in years.
When he arrived he saw that Glorfindel was already there and ready. He smiled when he saw Elrond, "Are you ready? I will try not to go too hard today," his voice mocking and lighthearted.
"You might regret that," Elrond replied lightly, and Glorfindel laughed as he began to warm up. Elrond followed him and was surprised at how easily his body remembered the exercises.
Perhaps he remembered more than he thought he did.
After warming up both elf-lords drew their blades but did not spar right away. Instead, they practiced moves and combinations, techniques and footwork, reminding Elrond of all he might have forgotten, although Glorfindel immediately knew they needn't have bothered.
Despite his misgivings, Elrond was a born fighter and a natural swordsman.
After a few more repetitions Elrond nodded and the two elves faced each other. Glorfindel nodded back and said, "If you feel the need to stop, just say so. This is not a fight to first blood, merely a chance for you to feel out your blade again."
Elrond nodded again and got into a ready position. Glorfindel mirrored his actions and they began to spar. They parried and ducked, clashed and retreated, came together again in a deadly dance of lightning-fast moves and glittering blades. Fighting him, Glorfindel knew immediately that Elrond was ready for a fight the next day. Almost three years away from his blade had not diminished his skill, and it showed in how Glorfindel could not break through his defenses no matter what he tried.
Elrond was still the best swordsman he knew in Middle-Earth.
After about an hour of sparring, Elrond finally disengaged and stepped back, lowering his blade in the sign of someone tired and ready to rest. Glorfindel acknowledged it by lowering and sheathing his own blade, watching as Elrond did the same.
"Well done, my lord," Glorfindel said, to which Elrond replied: "I need to build up my endurance again, but I liked how that went. It all felt so familiar."
"It was," a voice interrupted, and both elves turned in surprise, only to relax slightly when they saw who it was.
Thranduil was sitting against a tree, leaning back and enjoying the show. He had also brought a light breakfast of fruit and cheese and bread, along with some juice and water. He smiled playfully, and both elves went and joined him with Glorfindel asking, "How long have you been there?"
Thranduil shrugged, "Long enough to know that Elrond could have won that match at least three times but didn't. I guess he wanted to see how long he could last," looking at Elrond curiously as he said this.
Elrond shrugged as he helped himself to some fruit and cheese, "I wanted to see how long I could fight before the fatigue became too much for me, or my wrists started hurting. It was longer than I expected. And before you ask," he said when both elves looked at him in concern, "my wrists are only a bit sore. They just need to build their strength again. It was no different from other sparring sessions I have had in the past. Glorfindel is an interesting partner to spare against."
"That's good to know," Glorfindel said sarcastically, "I like being played with like a cat with a mouse. It makes me feel so valued as a friend and sparring partner."
Elrond ignored him with practiced ease and asked Thranduil, "Why are you out here so early? Is something wrong?"
"No," Thranduil said bluntly, "I just wanted to speak to the two of you alone where none would overhear us. Legolas is watching the path to here as well to give us some added privacy."
Glorfindel and Elrond exchanged glances before Elrond asked, "What is going on, Thranduil?"
Thranduil smiled slightly before saying, "When I arrived here I brought one hundred of my best warriors and hunters down into the valley. But unknown to everyone, I also brought a group of twenty that did not enter the valley. They stayed outside the valley."
"Why?" Glorfindel asked although he had already guessed the answer.
His suspicions were proven true when Thranduil said, "I had them search the area for hunters after Elrond was found. They are the stealthiest of my people, many of them are Avari-kin, and are invisible in the forest. Elros and Feren lead them. Only I and Legolas knew they were here."
"Why are you telling us this now?" Elrond asked curiosity in his voice but no animosity. He knew how Thranduil thought and how it all worked out in his mind.
Thranduil smiled, "Because they found the hunters, and the woman, and have been watching them the past few months. The reason your regular patrols have not found them is that they move camps every day. That woman is paranoid and over-cautious."
To say Elrond and Glorfindel were surprised would have been an understatement. Both were shocked, and it showed in their wide eyes and the surprise they could not hide. After a few minutes, Elrond drew in a deep breath and looked at Glorfindel, who finally regained the ability to speak, "That is...incredible Thranduil!"
Thranduil bowed his head in acknowledgment before saying, "Elros and Feren, a couple weeks ago, overheard the woman saying that she had ordered Avorneth to fight a warg but she did not count on Avorneth fighting back. The warg is dead and Avorneth is fine. The reason it took so long for that news to get here is that Mithien sprained a wing from all the flying she has done and needed a couple weeks to heal."
Elrond waved a hand, "It's fine. It's a miracle that you found them, and I am glad that Avorneth is still fighting back and knows we will come for her. Now, all we need is a plan to trap them. And as much as I would hate to do so, I think we can all agree I would make the best bait," the two blond elves looked at him as if he had lost his sanity, but he ignored it and continued, "It is the only thing that will work, and Thranduil," the elf-king looked at him sharply, keen attention fully directed at him, "We will need Elros and Feren's help in this."
Thranduil nodded immediately, "Mithien can help us coordinate everything."
"Good," was all Elrond said, "Now let's eat. We can work out the finer details of this plan later. I have every intention of sparring or riding every morning before it gets too busy and people notice what I am up to, so we can talk then. Not many are up and about this early anyways."
"Very true," Thranduil said as he got some bread and cheese, "Although I think next time I will bring my blade as well as breakfast. I would like to have a try at you Elrond, just to see who is better," a challenge in his eyes and voice.
Elrond laughed and smiled, "You're on."
The three elves continued to joke and banter throughout the meal, although one was always aware of the eyes that watched them.
Not with hostility, but with concern and obsessiveness that was becoming irritating.
A few days later, dark storm clouds rolled in the sky, signaling the beginning of the spring showers and Yestarë. At dawn, it was still dark out, and the rain hadn't started.
Yet.
But there was thunder and lightning, and now Elrond was getting ready in the early hours of the day to do something he had waited to do for months.
And Veryafion had been waiting too, and now she was ready to run.
Elrond smiled to himself, he was looking forward to this even more than Veryafion was. He felt strong enough now, and this race would be the ultimate test of whether his strength had fully returned or not. He already knew his skills with a blade were as keen as ever, having soundly beaten Thranduil more than once over the past few days, and now he was ready to race Veryafion.
And out there he knew Gwaereneth was waiting, this storm of her calling; the mate of Nahar knowing he was ready for this.
He could feel her power in the air, he realized as he left his chambers and started walking quickly to the stables. The guards outside his chambers had been reassigned as soon as Elrond had started walking on his own; Glorfindel respecting his desire for privacy and knowing he could defend himself now.
Elladan had taken much more convincing and Elrond knew his son was still not happy about him not having guards around him constantly.
But Elrond was tired of the restrictions and more than capable of taking care of himself. He just hoped his son would realize it. Elrohir had accepted the return to normal rather quickly and was helping Legolas and the others keep all the warriors currently in the valley fed and content, but Elladan was causing unnecessary tension with all his obsessiveness and general disregard for his father's wishes.
It was truly starting to irritate Elrond.
Elrond shook his head and looked up, seeing he had arrived at the stables by now and was already inside. He went straight to Veryafion, who was awake and pacing in place, eager to run. He smiled at her antics; he would enjoy this race and then deal with his son.
He opened her stall and led her out into the semi-darkness of the morning. She went eagerly, knowing what was about to happen. He mounted her quickly, no rope or halter restraining her or saddle weighing her down, and she rejoiced.
This was going to be an amazing race.
She waited impatiently for her rider to get settled, which was made harder by the fact she would not stay still. Eventually, Elrond was settled and laid a hand on her neck, feeling her tremble with excitement. He smiled and said, "Time to race, wild one. Are you ready?"
Veryafion responded by bobbing her head, and Elrond's smile widened, "Then let's race!"
Veryafion whinnied and reared high, pawing the air before leaping forward and galloping toward the Ford, Elrond gripping her mane tightly and enjoying the ride. His blood was pulsing, his heart was racing in time with Veryafion's, and the adrenaline was flowing.
This was the moment he had been waiting for months for.
Behind them, another got his mount ready to follow, his fear driving his worry and his worry driving his obsession.
He would not lose his father again.
Elrond knew nothing of the other rider coming. He only knew that this moment right then, right there, was something he hadn't even known he needed. He had been restricted by injuries, sickness, and fear for far too long.
They raced through the waters of the Ford, Veryafion's ground-eating stride carrying them through in only four strides instead of more. She leaped up the opposite side and skidded to a stop, rearing and whinnying a challenge to the storm.
The storm responded with a roll of thunder and a crash of lightning, and the race began. Veryafion lunged forward, Elrond gripping her mane tightly, and the race began in earnest. Veryafion charged into the forest, racing through it quickly before coming to the grasslands beyond the forest. She truly hit her stride then, sprinting across the grasslands and dodging boulders and stone with ease. She whinnied as there was another crash of lightning and thunder, and then her sister was there.
Gwaereneth reared as well with a challenging whinny, before racing after her sister. She was alongside them quickly, and looking over Elrond smiled as he saw her look at him. She whinnied in joy and bucked, glad to see him where he belonged. He reached over and lay a hand on her neck for a moment, remembering a time when he and his brother would race the two mares in storms just like this one.
Judging from the tears in Gwaereneth's eyes, she remembered as well.
'We will see him again, Gwaereneth,' Elrond sent to her in his mind, 'Have faith.'
Gwaereneth whinnied in response and bucked again, fully believing his words, before racing ahead of them.
Elrond called to her, "Not this time, mate of Nahar! We will win this time!"
Gwaereneth only bucked again, daring them to try. Veryafion accepted the challenge, racing even harder and faster as the rain began in earnest then. In moments Veryafion and Elrond were soaked to the bone, but still, they raced.
Still, they raced on, coming level with Gwaereneth before racing ahead of her. She snorted in frustration and tried to go faster, but could not match her sister's speed for the first time in centuries. Veryafion whinnied in joy, having finally won a race, and Gwaereneth ceded victory to her.
Both horses slowed to a canter, then a trot, then a walk before finally stopping. It was still raining as Elrond stroked Gwaereneth's head, which she had put in his lap, and then gently embraced her for several long moments, murmuring in her ear, "Thank you, Gwaereneth, for all you have done and all that you continue to do. I will never be able to thank you enough."
'You already have,' he heard her say in his mind,'You have done more for Middle-Earth then anyone else, and have sacrificed even more. It will not be forgotten, I promise.'
"Thank you, my heart," he whispered in her ear, holding her close a moment longer before releasing her. She went to her sister next, putting her head near Veryafion's for several moments before also pulling away.
Elrond could only assume they were speaking as two sisters that had to endure years apart, and could only reconnect very rarely, but when they did those moments were what they cherished most.
Gwaereneth bobbed her head and trotted away a few steps before spinning around on her back hooves and pawing the earth for a moment. She looked at Elrond and Veryafion, both of whom seemed content for the first time in years and then snorted.
Elrond smiled and said quietly, "Until next time, heart of my brother!"
Veryafion whinnied and pawed the earth in response to her sister, and Gwaereneth pawed the earth again. She whinnied suddenly and reared, pawing the air as a bolt of lightning came down to earth. It seemed to strike her, and the flash of light blinded both Elrond and Veryafion. When their vision cleared Gwaereneth was gone and the rain began to come down even harder.
Elrond smiled and stroked her neck before saying, "Your sister was always over-dramatic," to which Veryafion nodded. He turned her towards home then, and only then did he see the four riders heading towards him. He sighed then, he should have known Elladan would not let this go so easily.
Was it strange that he was more than a little tired of this?
Veryafion shifted her weight and drew Elrond back to the present. He only patted her neck and sat still, waiting for the riders to come closer, which they did. The one in the lead was Elladan, of course, while the others were Heledhon, Belegon, and Idhrenor. All three looked as though they knew better and didn't want to be there, and Elrond couldn't blame them.
This was not going to be pleasant.
"Adar," he heard Elladan say, and turned to his oldest, trying his hardest not to glare at his son.
He was not succeeding very well.
"Is there something so urgent, my son, that it could not wait until I returned?" Elrond asked quietly, and the three elves immediately tried to become part of the scenery, backing up their horses out of earshot.
They all knew that tone, and it never ended well when it was used.
Elladan knew this as well but ignored it. At any other time, Elrond might have applauded his courage, but he was too angered right now to do so. Instead, he asked, "Why are you here?"
Elladan said, "I was worried, Adar. You shouldn't leave the valley. The hunters might take you again."
Elrond only said, "They will not, not in this weather. And they are not anywhere near here. You worry over nothing, my son."
"How do you know they aren't near here, ada?" Elladan asked, "They could be watching right now."
"They aren't," Elrond said bluntly, "Veryafion would have heard them long before now if they were. They are not so silent they could escape her notice. And as for my leaving the valley..." he paused, and the three elves instinctively backed up their horses even more. This was not good.
Knowingly or not, Elladan had just entered forbidden territory. Elrond continued, ignoring the rain that still pounded them, "You do not command me, my son. You have no say over my will, no one does. You would do well to remember that. When and if I leave the valley is my choice, you have no say in it whatsoever. I am not your subordinate, I am your father. Not once have I restricted your will; I will not tolerate you attempting to do so with me. Watch your step, young one."
Elladan only stared sullenly at the ground before saying, "I am only worried, ada. I just -"
"No," Elrond cut in, "Do not say you are trying to protect me or help me. You actively keep things away from me, you do not let Cendar or Tordag speak with me when they desire to, and you try to stop me from doing my work. That is not protection, that is something else. You do not decide what is best for me, only I do that. You do not decide what I can or cannot do, only I do that. You have no command over me, my son, and I am tired of this. From now on, until I decide otherwise, you will be guarding the borders. I have no time for your obsession or your perversion of protectiveness."
"You nearly died, ada!" Elladan exclaimed, "You expect things to be normal now, but you do not think about those affected by your absence! What do you want from me? I can't help it, not after what I saw that day on the cliff face. Why do you expect anything else?"
Elrond snapped, "I expect that you will not try to contain me! That woman did so, I will not tolerate my own flesh and blood doing the same! I am not some weakling," his voice snapping as hard as a whip, "I am well aware of what she did to me, and Cendar, and Tordag, and who knows how many others whose names I will never know. Even if your concern was warranted, your controlling me is not! Until you learn that, do not return from the borders! Perhaps some orcs will refocus your perspective!"
"Perhaps I won't come back at all!" Elladan yelled back, "I'm sorry that I was so scared because you looked worse than Naneth when we found you! I'm sorry that I can't get it out of my head no matter what I try! I'm sorry that I was terrified you were going to die!" tears in his eyes as he turned his horse and raced back to Rivendell. The three elves only exchanged glances before looking at Elrond.
As for Elrond, he had deflated at his son's words, and his anger receded when he heard them. His son's tears were not what he was expecting, and it took him several moments to realize Elladan was gone. When he did he turned to Heledhon, who only said, "He is right about how bad it was, my lord. Maybe you should heal him now, instead of punishing him?"
Elrond said nothing at first, then said, "Next time, don't follow him. None of you deserved to see that."
"We tried to talk him out of it, but he wouldn't listen," Belegon said, "He is stubborn."
Elrond only nodded before nudging Veryafion along in the direction Elladan had gone, the three elves following quietly behind. When they returned Elladan was nowhere in sight, and his horse was left standing in the aisle looking thoroughly confused. Elrond sighed when he saw the gelding, saying to Idhrenor, "If you could tend him, I'm sure he will appreciate it."
Idhrenor nodded and collected the gelding and his own mare and led them away. In the meantime the two captains left to tend their horses as well, leaving Elrond alone with Veryafion. He tended her quietly, lost in thought, and then left for the House, stopping only at Glorfindel's office to let him know about the fight with Elladan. Glorfindel only said, "This is something only the two of you can fix. I won't get involved."
"I'm not asking you too," Elrond said, "Just when Elladan asks you what patrol he should join, stall him. I know you know how to do that."
"Very true," Glorfindel said, "Very true. Alright, I will see what I can do. You work on repairing things with him."
Elrond nodded and left, and Glorfindel sighed. Just how much pain would this family know?
The next day came, and Elrond could not find Elladan at all. He had isolated himself so completely he could not be found, and none of his usual spots revealed anything. Wherever he was, he was doing an excellent job at hiding from his father.
Not even Elrohir knew where he was.
That was how Elrond found himself in the Hall of Fire in the middle of the day, just staring at the flames and trying to decide what to do, when he realized he was not alone.
Turning away from the flames revealed Cendar and Arahad, who had become firm friends and were never seen far away from each other. Both smiled sympathetically when Elrond looked at them and sat down nearby, waiting for him to speak.
Eventually, he did: "I am guessing you heard about my disagreement with Elladan?"
Arahad nodded, "Idhrenor is the worst gossip in the valley. He is worse than my mother, may the Valar keep her."
"And my own, may the Valar keep her as well," Cendar agreed, "but he did add that this argument was more fear-driven on Elladan's part than anything else."
"I know that now," Elrond said bleakly, "but it doesn't excuse the words I used, or how I said them to him."
Arahad shook his head, "Nothing excuses an argument between a father and son. All that matters now is how you repair the relationship."
Elrond nodded, "It would be easier if I knew where he was. His usual hiding places have revealed nothing."
Arahad looked thoughtful at that, truly having no idea where Elladan was, while Cendar decided to try and guess: "Maybe he is where this all started?"
Elrond turned to him in confusion, an eyebrow raised, before he truly thought it over and slowly began nodding. All he said was, "Thank you," before leaving the Hall of Fire. Arahad and Cendar looked at each other and shrugged before Reineth and Eafled called them back out into the sunshine to play and laugh.
The cliff face looked the same as always, Elladan realized as he stared at it. Nothing had changed and yet everything had changed. His world had tilted off its axis and he wasn't sure how to right it again.
He wasn't sure about anything anymore.
So lost in thought was he that he didn't notice another had joined him until they sat next to him. He didn't even look up to know who it was.
"How did you find me?" he asked dully.
His father shrugged, "Cendar suggested I look where all this started, and this is where it started. Not the fields, not my chambers, not anywhere else. Here, where you found me."
Elladan continued to stare at the sheer drop, "I thought Veryafion was crazy that day; wanting to climb down the cliff. I didn't know what she saw at first, but it just didn't seem possible. And she wouldn't stop staring down there. I finally dismounted and looked more carefully. And then I saw you. You were hidden under a bush and were nearly invisible from the road. I still don't know how Veryafion saw you. I remember calling out for the others, but I don't remember climbing down the cliffside. When I got to you I was terrified; you weren't moving at all, and it didn't look like you were breathing. I couldn't bring myself to look," he stopped there as tears threatened, then said, "The others arrived then, and Faneth took away the chance for me to check. It was the worst thing in the world, carrying you up the cliffside and hearing you struggle to breathe. The ride home was even worse. I thought each breath was going to be your last. And when we arrived Círdan took you, and then it was hours before we heard anything more," he stopped again then, and Elrond still said nothing, waiting for Elladan to continue.
This was a story he needed to tell; a story he had not told anyone and was eating him from the inside out.
"Hearing Erestor talk about the pact you and Thranduil made, I couldn't understand why anyone would do such a thing," Elladan continued, voice quiet and eyes distance, "But I am glad Thranduil didn't have to choose otherwise that day. Once the healers said they were hopeful for your recovery the fear lessened, but it returned when we found Cendar and Tordag and they said you were blind. And then, once that stopped being a fear, you started coming around as you got stronger. But you never recognized me, or Elrohir, or Arwen. It was like we didn't exist. You didn't know us. It was like we were invisible. It was like when we found Naneth; in those first few weeks she didn't remember us at all, and it was hard. But she got better, bit by bit, until there was nothing more any of us could do. Sailing was the best thing for her, but it doesn't make this easier. You seemed so much worse than her, ada, how could things end any differently?"
Elrond was shocked now, now fully understanding where his son's fear came from: Elladan thought he would sail! And likely still did!
Elrond immediately pulled him close, something the younger elf didn't resist. He held his son for several moments before saying, "I'm not sailing yet, Elladan. I will sail one day when the strain of living in Middle-Earth becomes more than I can bear, but it is not anytime soon. I have sworn to stay until Elros' heir takes his rightful place as King of Gondor and Arnor again, but that will not be for many long years. I am sorry Elladan, I did not mean to scare you in such a way."
"But you will still sail," Elladan said quietly, not pulling away from him, "And I don't know what will happen then."
"All elves that feel the Sea-longing will eventually sail, Elladan," Elrond said, "That is the way of things. Much still holds me to Middle-Earth: you, Elrohir, Arwen, my friends, and my people. But many call to me from across the Sea: your mother, Gil-galad, my parents, and so many others I have lost. They are waiting for me, I know this, but they will have to wait a while longer."
"But –"
"No buts, Elladan," Elrond said, "I have seen this. The night your mother sailed, a vision came to me, and I knew I would remain in Middle-Earth a while longer. Nothing done to me between now and my eventual sailing will change that, and that is how it must be. But even when I leave, whether you and your brother follow or not, know that I will always be with you. Your mother will always be with you. No matter what happens we will always be with you, and that love we have for you and your brother will never be broken, even if there is a vast Sea between us. Don't ever think I don't love you, Elladan; I love you and your siblings more than you can imagine. That will never change or end, no matter what happens. You haven't lost me, my son, and you never will. I promise."
Elladan said nothing for many long moments then whispered, "I'm sorry for everything."
Elrond smiled slightly, "And I'm sorry for not seeing your fear for what it was. I should have known better. After everything we have had to endure as a family, I should have known better."
Elladan nodded slightly before pulling away, wiping the tears away from his eyes. His father's hand was still on his shoulder, an anchor in a shifting world, "I think we were both in the wrong, ada. Let's just let it go."
"I agree," Elrond said, "on one condition."
"What is it?" Elladan asked worriedly.
Elrond smiled, "It's actually two conditions, now that I think about it. Peace, my son," he said to Elladan's fearful look, likely fearing some punishment, "tis nothing bad. Condition one: we both do as we will, and neither of us tries to stop the other without cause. You are still my son, that will never change, so I am fully prepared and willing to deal with the fallout of one of your pranks. But do not try to tell me what to do again. Agreed?"
"Agreed," Elladan said immediately, then asked, "And the second condition?"
Elrond's smile widened, "Accept a gift I am preparing for you. It is not ready yet, but it will be soon. I hope you will love it."
"I'm sure I will, ada," Elladan said, then asked, "What is it?"
Elrond laughed, "It would not be much of a surprise if I told you now, would it? You will have to wait and see."
Elladan sighed unhappily but smiled when his father laughed again, "You will like it Elladan, I promise. Now...should we return before half the valley starts looking for us?" standing as he said so.
Elladan stood as well, looking down at the cliffside one more time. He looked up when his father said: "Leave the past where it belongs, Elladan: in the past. Think only of the present and future, for they are what is important. Do not dwell on the past, otherwise, it will consume you."
Elladan nodded before walking back to his gelding; Veryafion standing nearby. They both mounted, Elrond riding bareback as he preferred, and Elladan riding to his right. They spoke as they rode of mundane things until they arrived at the stables. After tending their horses they almost left, but a call from Laeron stopped them. Turning they saw him outside Gledswith's stall, Tordag with him. They went quickly and looked inside, shocked at what they saw.
Gledswith was there, and she wasn't alone. A little colt was there, lying in the shavings and damp from his birth. Gledswith was licking him clean as he struggled to stand, soon standing on shaky legs and wobbling to his mother's side to sate his hunger.
Gledswith only looked at them all, shaking her head as if to ask: "What?"
The three elves and one human all looked at each other before looking back at the colt. He was a dark bay, with three socks and a white snip that went halfway up his face.
"He must be Urelais'," Elrond said, breaking the silence, "He is the only possibility," glancing at Cendar's gelding next door, who only looked curious about the new arrival. Gledswith's other neighbor, Idhrenor's mare, also watched curiously as the little one explored his new world.
"How did he find the time?" Tordag asked, "We were a little busy, the entire time."
"Love finds a way," Elrond said sarcastically, "I thought her stomach was a little swollen a month ago, but I just assumed it was because she was finally starting to put on some weight. I guess all the nutrition from her feed was going to her foal," looking at Laeron, who had finally gotten over his shock.
"We will start giving her larger helpings," Laeron said, "Just so that she gains some weight now. She is still too thin."
Elrond nodded and smiled at the colt before walking to Urelais' stall across the way. The stallion came to the door quickly, and Elrond smiled, "Do you want to see your colt, Urelais?"
The stallion nodded and Elrond haltered him before leading him to Gledswith's stall. The stallion watched his son curiously before nickering and lowering his head into the stall. The colt walked over and investigated his father's head before returning to his mother to nurse. Once he had drunk his fill he lay down to sleep and Elrond said, "Perhaps we should let them rest."
"And let Urelais run," Laeron said, getting all their attention. He was checking the stallion's leg and was pleased with what he saw. Elrond also checked it and smiled before saying, "It is fully mended now, like it all never happened," scratching Urelais where he liked it best. The stallion only snorted and looked down the aisle to the outside world, eager to see it after so long inside.
"Let me get Nortaro," Laeron said, "He will want to be here for this."
They all nodded and waited, Urelais shifting his weight and stamping impatiently. Finally, Laeron returned with Nortaro and they walked quickly to a pasture, Urelais eager and prancing every few steps. Once they got there Elrond removed the halter and Urelais immediately trotted away. He stopped and investigated his leg, sniffing both scarred knees and licking his formerly broken leg and hoof, before looking at those watching him. He snorted and tossed his head before breaking into a canter. He bucked suddenly and then took off galloping across the field, bucking every now and then as he reveled in being there and alive and racing the wind again. He whinnied in joy again and again and continued to run, not stopping for almost ten minutes. Only then did he trot over to those gathered at the fence, nickering and snorting in happiness.
Elladan said it best: "He is amazing and he knows it. Not many would survive what he has survived and still believe the best in others."
"He has a big heart, my lord," Nortaro said, "He doesn't have it in him to hate anyone," the stallion going to him and letting him stroke him. Tordag nearby also petted the stallion, marveling at his sleek, glossy coat and strong muscles. He had only ever seen the stallion when he was weakening and starved, and so to see him now Tordag was impressed at how bold and beautiful he was.
Laeron added, "His being a fighter doesn't hurt either."
Elrond said then, "I think everything is almost back to normal now. Perhaps a feast to celebrate the coming of spring and new beginnings in a few days wouldn't be a bad idea."
Everyone looked excited at the idea, and Elrond could tell it was the right decision. He would coordinate with Maeassil later, as he could see Thranduil and Glorfindel waiting for him and Elladan. Elrohir was with them as well, looking slightly confused about why he had been summoned by them.
It was time to include his sons in their plan.
And hope it would work.
Deep in the forest, the woman gave the order to move camp, coming closer and closer to Rivendell. Soon, very soon her prey would have to leave his little sanctuary again.
And they would be ready.
A few days later, as night fell, the Great Hall of the Last Homely House was filled with as many as could fit in their finest clothing.
Reineth, Eafled and many of the Edain had borrowed clothing for the occasion and looked more like elves than anything else. Their hair had also been braided in the styles of the Eldar and they sat amongst Edhelvain and Idhrenor, Echedril, Faneth and Heledhon, Quildolorë and Mistaro, and Belegon and Merilinel, and many of their children. Tordag had decided to eat with Laeron, Nortaro, and several other grooms and their families.
Cendar and Hithaer sat together, and with them sat Arahad and several of the Dúnedain. Famir, Cirion, and many of the Rangers of Gondor sat with them as well.
And at the high table sat Elrond and his family, Glorfindel, Erestor, Galadriel, Celeborn, Thranduil, Legolas, Gandalf, and Círdan. The twins sat to his right and Arwen to his left, along with an empty seat for a lady who was now beyond the Grey Havens and healing in the Undying Lands. But always would she be remembered.
This was not the first feast Elrond had hosted since his return but there was something different about this one as he stood from his chair, and it was not the fact the healers had cleared him to drink wine a few days before.
What difference could only be felt by a very few people in the room, and Cendar realized it was hope and courage as he watched the half-elf survey the room, taking in all those that had gathered to end a barbaric tradition. Cendar smiled when Elrond's eye lingered on him for a few seconds longer, which the half-elf returned with the barest of nods before continuing his scan of the room.
Elrond was the lord of this place, and it showed when he picked up his wine glass, and the room almost instantly quieted. All turned to him and he, in turn, said, "Tonight we celebrate the coming of spring. Spring is a time of new beginnings, but also a time to remember times past. And I remember a time when this hall heard the voices of Man, Elf, and Dwarf; voices mingled together and friendships formed in the direst of times. We may not be facing the same threat as Ages past, but this threat today poses a danger to all those who believe in the freedom of choice," he paused a moment before continuing, "Tonight, we gather for the coming of spring, but also to honor those that have come before, and those that may be hundreds of miles away but are always in our hearts," Edhelvain's hand was white from gripping Idhrenor's so hard, and Faelher stared at his plate with a clenched jaw while his father kept a hand on his shoulder, "Tonight, let us honor friendships and oaths that have brought us all together for the good of Middle-Earth, and pray that our vigilance in the coming years will keep this threat from rising again."
Elrond raised his glass, and everyone followed suit as he drank. He then said, "And let us honor those that labor from the shadows to deliver this meal and so many other small blessings to us. In the end, the small deeds of others will have ripples that will be seen and felt far beyond the horizon," raising his glass to the cooks standing along the wall and the healers throughout the room, and the everyday laborers and craftspeople of the valley. Without them, the valley would cease to function as a safe haven, and all should be honored for their work and skill.
Everyone drank to them as well, and then Elrond seated himself and the feast began in earnest, although there were several that had no true appetite that night. Edhelvain picked at her food, while Faelher couldn't bring himself to eat. Elrond watched them both carefully but knew that there was nothing he could do until the plan was carried out. All others at the feast indulged and ate well, going to the Hall of Fire afterward for merrymaking, although Elrond, Thranduil, Glorfindel, and the twins stood together and discussed something in low tones for many long minutes before joining the music and dancing. Their faces were grave and their eyes solemn, and anyone watching would know immediately they were discussing something important. What it was none could say, as they shooed away any that tried to interrupt or join the conversation.
Whatever it was, it was important enough to warrant complete secrecy.
Deep in the forest, the woman waited impatiently, waited for her quarry to grow tired of his little valley, and leave it again. She would be ready then, and the hunt would begin again. She had promised the half-elf would die, and she knew the consequences of her failure would be extreme.
Soon, very soon the hunt would begin again.
And it would not stop until the half-elf was dead.
Far away, Avorneth stared at the wall, dreaming of happier times and eager for those times to come again. She would wait and she would hope, as she knew that this darkness and danger would not last. She would be found and she would be free, this she did not doubt. She would be free again. And happy with Faelher, and then nothing would come between them ever again.
This she knew in her heart and every fiber of her being.
She would be free, and nothing would ever come between her and freedom ever again.
She knew it.
Translations:
Daernaneth/daernana – Grandmother/grandma
Aran – King
Ernil – Prince
flet – a high platform used by the elves to build buildings and cities in the trees
Yestarë – first day of the elven year, March 21st
Adar/ada – Father/daddy
Naneth/nana – Mother/mommy
Edain – plural form of "man"