Disclaimer: I do not own anything from LoTR, I do not own LoTR. The only things I own in this story are Telvar, Alassante and Náremiri.

Just Once

I, Telvar of Rivendell, now a widower, write this. It is my tale of only a few short years, but I feel they are important enough to commit to paper, not for fear of forgetting them- I do not forget- but for those who follow, for the children of my children's children. I am foolish though; there is no way to ensure that they will ever know. This manuscript may be lost for ever- or it may be preserved with care. I hope it is the latter, for when I am gone, and my children are gone, none will remember her, my fair Alassante. Please, all that read this remember her.

Alassante was beautiful. She was not elven-fair, those who think on Luthien and Arwen would find her dull and lusterless, but I found her a gem, her flame-red hair and emerald green eyes will never fade in my mind. Alassante was mortal. Mortal. One word meaning such a difference. A few short years are all they are alotted, then death, then Eru only knows where. I pray that it is peaceful, that is all. Alassante was the youngest daughter of King Arathorn the III of Arnor and Gondor, the tenth king descended from King Aragorn Elessar. I met her when I came to Minas Tirith to pay my respects to the new king. She was all of fourteen then, I remember she nearly ran into me while chasing a friend. Instead, she tripped and fell.

I reached down and helped her up, she was so intent on finishing her chase that she barely looked at me at first. "My thanks!" she said hastily and began to continue the chase- then stopped to look at me. "Who are you?" she asked curiously.

"Telvar of Rivendell my lady," I said with a half bow.

"Are you- are you of the Firstborn?" she asked, brushing some stray red hair back.

"I am," I replied.

She half turned to go after her friend, but curiosity won out. "Will you tell me about Rivendell?" I smiled. "I would be honored to..." I waited for her name.

"Alassante," she smiled.

"Alassante," I repeated, smiling back. "I would be honored. Perhaps at dinner this evening?"

"Perhaps," she smiled. "If you will excuse me," she said and ran off again.

Hours later, after presenting my credentials several times, taking a bath, and arranging to give the King the letter of congratulations from those few that remained in Rivendell the next day, I made my way to the Great Hall and in the milling confusion of people took what I thought to be my place at the middle table where high ranking messengers and lesser nobles sat. A young page came up to me. "Your pardon sir, but I believe that you have the wrong seat."

I stood and let the page show me to my place- at the high table?

"I fear I still have the wrong seat," I said with a slight smile.

"You are Telvar of Rivendell, sir?"

"Yes."

"Then this is your seat sir," he said and went off to serve some wine.

"Hello!" someone said and took the seat next to me.

"Alassante?" She smiled at me.

"Now we can talk of Rivendell, or rather in a minute."

It was the custom of the Gondorians to stand and face west for a moment before sitting to eat and we did. I let my mind wander for a moment. West...far over the sea was Valinor, the Undying Lands. My heart thrilled slightly at the thought that I might one day go there, the sea calling was strong for a moment, so strong that I had to close my eyes and think hard of other things, green forests, the life I knew in Arda. I felt before I heard that the moment was over, opened my eyes and sat down with the others.

"Now, tell me of Rivendell!" Alassante commanded, and I obliged. For about an hour that seemed like minutes, I told her of Rivendell, of the trees and the land and of the people who had dwelt there. She seemed amazed at all of this, and at the detail I gave her. After a while I noticed that she had not eaten and stopped.

"Go on, please. It's like being there!"

"Lady," I said with a laugh, " if I tell you everything now, you will not remember any of it tomorrow!"

She sighed. "I suppose you are right. But will you be here tomorrow to tell me more?"

"Of course, I have a message for the king to deliver tomorrow morning, but the rest of the day I am at your command!"

"Good!" she smiled. "Then will you meet me in the South Garden at noon?"

"I will," I promised.

"Then sir, I bid you goodnight!" she said and rose.

I stood as well. "Goodnight my lady." I watched her leave, then sat and finished my wine, thinking on what exactly I would say the next morning to the king. After awhile I also left for my room.

Next morning dawned what humans would consider cold, but to me was no more than chilly. I took my light cloak though and walked off to my audience. The king was pressed for time, but he thanked me and asked after the health of some that he knew in Rivendell and the surrounding area. I replied to the best of my knowledge, was told that I was welcome in Minas Tirth and dismissed.

I still had time before noon, so I found the library and began to read one of the 'older manuscripts'. It was old for the Secondborn of Eru, but I saw that I was slightly older and smiled. I turned the pages gently, feeling traces of those who had read it before me. Some joyful, some sorrowful- one page in particular had such a deep impression of sorrow that I turned back to it after skipping it. The impression was painfully sorrowful, but dulled by age. I wondered what had happened to cause such grief in the reader. I began to read the page.

But lost she was,

lost to me forever.

Death has claimed her for his own.

And I shall see her never.

So death I will seek

and death defy

and win her back to me

Reader, can you know why?

This poor poem is all that is left

of she, myself and my quest

For long has the earth lain over our bones

Both she and I now rest.

I wondered why the poem had been put in this book, it was not a very good poem, not nearly as good as some of the others in the book. It was a strange poem and I felt slightly unnerved by it, for a reason I could not name. I looked at the light coming through the skylights. It was about noon. I put the book back and headed for the South Gardens.

The South Gardens were in full bloom, not too early, not too late, beautiful. I admired the care with which they had been treated and took a seat where I could study them all until Alassante arrived.

I waited several hours, but I did not see her. Finally I despaired of her ever coming and left the garden. I asked a guardsman if he knew where the Lady Alassante had her residence and he replied rather strangely that she lived at the palace. I returned to my rooms and began to pack my few things. I would leave Minas Tirith after dinner; perhaps I would see her then.

Dinner came, as did a repetition of the intense sea calling and Alassante came, with an explanation, she had forgotten a previous appointment. We talked further of Rivendell, and I told her I would leave. She protested against me leaving in the dark, but I told her that it was necessary- and it was. I was needed in Rivendell. Though no summons could have possibly arrived in Minas Tirith soon enough to let me know, I knew I had to return. I wondered- and worried to think what had happened in my absence. We parted after dinner that night, though not before Alassante had extracted my promise to return.

"Soon?" she wanted to know.

"When I may my lady," I told her and left.

My journey home I remember little of, only I do remember thinking often of Alassante. In all my years, I had not met a human like her before, but then I had not met many. She had so many questions about Rivendell...I sincerily hoped that one day she would see it, and perhaps I could show it to her.

I finally arrived home, to find that my family had left to cross the Sundering Seas, my mother Melde and my brother Arcalimo. My father and most of his family had left decades earlier, but now out of my family I alone remained. They were not the only ones to leave Rivendell. When I had set out, the household that remained had eighty-five. Upon my return only fifty remained, and most planned to leave soon. I sought out one of my few remaining friends, Náremiri, to help him pack if he truly meant to leave, and also to try to convince him to stay, but he would hear nothing of it.

"Telvar, why must you so stubbornly deny what you know to be true? You feel the sea-calling too, do you not?" Náremiri asked, looking around his room trying to decide what to take and what to leave.

"I do," I said, looking out the window.

"Then why can you not accept it and leave?"

"I do not know." I did not. For a reason I could not name, I was determined to stay until I could no longer stand it.

"It is said that once one of the firstborn in Arda catches their first glimpse of the sea, it is always in their mind, even as they sleep. It is true, is it not?" Náremiri asked.

"It is, but I will stay."

"Telvar," Náremiri began. "I will ask you only once more, why do you tarry here?"

"Náremiri," I began, unsure of what to say. "My heart is spoken for, and it is neither the sea nor Valinor that has it."

Náremiri sat down abruptly on the edge of his bed. "Telvar, this is joy unhoped for!" he smiled. "Who is she?"

"I...I will not say..." I said, feeling too warm suddenly. I had not meant to say that, had not known that I would.

Náremiri looked at me closely, but I could not meet his searching grey eyes. "Telvar," he said gently. "If all was well with you and she, you would tell me. I will not press you for an answer, but please know that while I remain here I am always ready to listen and help in any way I can."

"I thank you, friend." In my heart I was deeply troubled by what I had said though. I would never lie to Náremiri, so had I…had I told him the truth? Had a mere fourteen-year-old mortal spoken for my heart? We talked twice; she is a child, a mortal! This is ridiculous! Firmly I put all thoughts of Alassante out of my mind, determined to keep them out.

Then, ten short years later, I was sent to Minas Tirith again…