Starlight on Western Seas
Chapter 2.
Disclaimers: See previous chapter.
Summary: Elrond reflects on the passing of the Elves from Middle-earth, and his own attachment to it. Angsty with a little sap thrown in for good measure. A little bit of Elrond/Celebrian. A fairly unusual take on Elrond's attitude towards Middle-earth, but I don't think that it contradicts canon.
Far, far to the west, beyond the reach of mortal men, beyond the pathless seas, Lord Elrond of Imladris stood, gazing at the tumbling waves. His grey eyes shone with an unnatural brightness in the gloom. Despite his misery, he smiled a welcome at the figure who glided to his side, the last rays of the setting sun tingeing her pale locks with a dull scarlet.
"They will be here tomorrow," he whispered. "She is dead, and they have left Middle-earth. They will arrive with the dawn."
Celebrian sighed, burying her face in the cloth of his robe.
"Aye, I know," she answered softly. "My mother told me. But how do you know?"
"There remains for me some connection to the lands where once I dwelt," he said, fiddling with the ring on his right hand. "I felt it. I know not how, but I felt the land itself change at the passing of the Evenstar. I did not speak, for I did not wish to worry you before I was certain. Yet now I perceive our sons drawing near across the waters."
His wife drew him close and wrapped him in a fierce embrace. Once he was freed from it, he was silent for some time, staring once more beyond the horizon.
"I still miss it," he exclaimed suddenly, failing to meet Celebrian's eyes. "I miss the way the dawn sounds in Imladris, the raucous noise of Men. I yearn for the spring sunshine on the Bruinen and the last light of autumn on the towers of Minas Tirith."
He laughed, melancholy infecting the usual warmth.
"I tell myself that it is not so, that I cannot want to return to imperfection and the lands of shadow when I am surrounded by such beauty, and I do indeed love the peace of Aman, but my heart betrays me. I remember the courts of Lindon, and the laughter of the Halflings, and the fleeting seasons, and I am not content."
Celebrian traced the strong line of his jaw with one loving finger.
"Yet you desired to leave?" she asked.
Elrond's grip on her other hand tightened affectionately.
"I wished to return to your side, meleth nin," he replied affectionately, "and I longed for tranquillity, and freedom from strife, but I never truly grew weary of Middle-earth. I never wished to leave there, I only wished to arrive here, to see your dearest face once more."
Celebrian giggled.
"Ah yes, my Elrond," she murmured, "how well I know your tendency to strive for the impossible."
"Only because my lady wife demanded it," he teased, the darkness briefly leaving his grave features, but only too soon solemnity returned to his grey eyes.
"Some days I awaken, and in that space between dreams and reality, I think that I have been gone too long, and that I must return to my responsibilities."
"I know. You make a most uncomfortable pillow on those mornings."
Elrond tried to look serious, but a glimmer of amusement appeared on his face. He continued quickly, as if afraid that she might leave before he had finished.
"Here I know joy such as I had never imagined could exist. I am safe, but I feel almost as if … as if I cannot be true to it, as if I do not belong here, and my soul knows it. It is … it is not…"
"Your home," she finished for him, intense compassion shining in her eyes. Elrond glanced quickly up at her, surprised by her intuition.
"No, it is not," he said thoughtfully. "Imladris will always be my home, even if I never see it again. I cannot explain it. I lost so much there, so many hopes were shattered, and those I love suffered greatly, especially you, dear Celebrian, yet I cannot allow it to fade into the dusk of Middle-earth. I beg your forgiveness for this."
He sank to one knee before her, his head bent over her clasped hands.
Soundlessly she sat down beside him, refusing to accept his obeisance, and lifted his head with one finger under his dimpled chin.
"Elrond Earendilion, there is nothing to forgive. I have always known. Imladris will always be here." She touched one hand to his shaking chest. "You will stay here many ages, but you will never call it yours, and if the rallying-cry comes, you will forsake the light, which you rejoice in without belonging, for the darkness in which you know yourself."
"I … I would not leave you, my moonlit Celebrian. I could not bear to leave you again. It was sorrow indeed to watch you sail across the sea without me," he sighed. "No matter how much I might choose to forsake peace I have sworn never to leave you again. My duty, at least, to Middle-earth, is discharged. For the sake of my soul, and my heart, and because I could not stand to do aught else, I shall keep my promise. I shall remain in Aman."
Celebrian moulded here body around his, and breathed deeply of the heady scent of his dark hair.
"I did not ask you to return without me. If you go, I shall accompany you. I may not have your love for the Hither Lands, but I do not intend to be separated from you, and I no longer fear the darkness of that land. Aman has healed me of its terrors," she countered in a voice laden with emotion. "If a day comes when your land calls you back, I shall go with you."
"I could not ask that of you," Elrond said in a cracked voice. "It would be selfish."
"You need not ask it," she whispered. "I shall come, regardless of your wishes. But, for now, let us leave that day to the future. The son of Arwen and Aragorn will govern Gondor and Arnor with both faith and justice. Let us, instead, watch the sea and the lights of Elbereth."
And so they sat on the shifting sands, enveloped by the soothing winds of the night and lulled by the balm of the heavens. They rested in one another's arms, flowing hair intermingling, black and silver, until the first rays of dawn lightened the sky, and with them, in the east, white sails fluttered against the blue sea.
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