A/N: Sorry about the mistake I made. I didn't pay attention that Gandalf actually could mind reading naturally. But it was true that he didn't use it as much as Galadriel did by choice.

Chapter 2: Confession

Several days had passed since the council was held. There were many clashes and mayhems occurred among people now that they knew about the One Ring. Shadow fell upon everyone's soul and getting darker each passing minute. Feasts and banquets were held, as usual, but the joy they brought had noticeably decreased. I, for certain, was not excluded from the dark atmosphere lingering in the air.

I walked down the winding stair. Each step was heavy, as if the world rested upon my shoulder. It was true, and untrue in the same time. I had failed this land once, and therefore had no right to claim myself as her protector. Nevertheless, I did not want to be drowned in self-regret, for such responsibility had not yet taken from me. I must do what needed to be done. People were looking for my leadership, and I must not fail them the second time.

First, I must contact Lothlorien ere the army of Sauron or Saruman besieged them unexpectedly. Both were most eager to seize the Elven Rings to aid them finding the One. I assumed Galadriel would have known, but there was nothing wrong by being careful. I needn't open words, neither company of messengers for the mission. She was but a thought away from me. All I had to do was find solitude to concentrate and reach her with my mind.

I went to the small garden where I usually meditate; the small garden which was hidden from most of people who were not familiar to Rivendell. It had a crystal clear brook running inside and flowers of various kinds. Trees grew unhindered. Sometimes there were several bird nests on their branches. I even found a nightingale once. In that garden, the night sky was most beautiful than anywhere else on Middle Earth. I could see the greatest creation of Varda, the stars. And father. My mind drifted away to him. My father, the brave mariner, the Earendil. A father I hardly knew, yet I always loved. 'When you looked down to your sons, would you take pride in us?' I asked myself silently.

I reached the garden, but Mithrandir was already there. Looking at him, I realized that I hadn't fulfilled my promise, to share with him my confession as soon as Frodo was awoken. He had never demanded me to, nor would he pry into my mind without my consent. It was not his nature, but such self-restraint from him did not assuage my guilt.

Mithrandir turned to me and smiled, "Morning, Elrond."

"I assume you come here for solitude. I apologize for disturbing," I said.

"Nay. I was just sending warnings to Galadriel about the Ring and Saruman, but it is done now." He leaned to his staff, looked older than usual, fatigued by heavy thoughts. His usual optimistic eyes were darkened by apprehension. I did not have heart to burden him even more, but it was not mine to decide.

I turned to leave, for I did not need to contact Galadriel anymore, but halted by his sudden question. "Why didn't you push Isildur to Mount Doom that time?"

"I think you can very well presume the answer, mellonim," I answered. He was watching me intensely during the Council and I had suspected that he was not satisfied by my version of the incident.

"You were hesitant because he was your brother's descendant?"

"More than descendant, Mithrandir. He meant a lot more than another descendant of my brother." I smiled ruefully. Unwanted memories came to me. Memories of Numenorean's swayed way, their growing hatred to Valar and Eldar, and their arrogant rebellion against the Ban, until the wrath of Eru crushed them and sunk their isle forever.* Elendil's house were the only survivors, but he himself was killed in battle with Sauron. He and Gilgalad. How deeply I had grieved. And in my sorrow I vowed silently to protect of what were left of my brother's line. It was my reason to care for Estel in my land. But it was not my only motive for my inaction on Mount Doom thousands years ago.

I looked away, hoping he would stop his queries. Unfortunately, my answer was not enough to convince him. The wisest of the Maiar was too wise to overlook a gap in my explanation. He looked at me inquisitively, but he respected my boundary and did not try to pry into my mind.

"You could have taken the Ring away by force." His voice remained soft, without accusation.

Sighing deeply I answered, "I could have, but I did not."

"Why?"He surely knew how to question gently, yet persistent.

I was silent, unable to answer him. My finger traced the rough scab of a tree trunk ardently, as if there was nothing else on my mind. That, of course, was untrue. My mind was battling between revealing my motivation and concealing it. There was no point of hiding the truth. In fact, I wish my confession would somehow release me from a burden I had been bearing all this time. But the other side of me opposed it. Unveiling one self's flaws was never an easy task; my pride was hindering me from doing so. Yet, I learned wisdom: without disclosure, healing would hardly come.

Finally, I forced out a smile and met his eyes diffidently. "I am afraid to fade."

From the look on his face, Mithrandir was clearly perplexed by my answer. Therefore I continued, "The demolition of the One will lead to the fading power of the Three."

His eyes met mine, still bewildered. But finally a realization dawn to his mind and he nodded. "I understand," he said.

(to be continued)

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*read Silmarillion: Alkallabeth for complete story. Shortly the Numenoreans, Elros' descendents, brother of Elrond, rebelled against Valar, and broke the Ban of Valinor. But Manwe prayed to Eru and He sunk the island of Numenoreans. Elendil's house, one of the Faithful, sailed to Middle Earth ere the catastrophe took place.

Elrond bore Vilya ( wind), Galadriel Nenya ( water), and Gandalf Narya ( fire). for complete history, read Silmarillion and Unfinished Tales.

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