ok before we start this chapter, you have to know that I'm really proud of
it. I don't think it could have come out any better than it did, and I ask
you to be gentle with it. I don't think I could stand to have this chapter
flamed.
Chapter 14 Tears of Sorrow, Tears of Joy
Though Mararion had promised that Elrond would give him answers, the arrival of the mysterious elf had only left Eladlín with more questions. He understood none of Mararion's parting words, or the sympathetic glance of Haldamir. And worst of all, he did not understand the reaction of King Gil-galad, and the elf that Siriondil had called Elrond. He looked as though he should be Eladlín's brother, but countless years and an entire race separated them. Nor could he comprehend the strange feeling he had had in his chest when he saw Elrond for the first time. "Arggh!" he yelled, venting his frustration on an unsuspecting table. He upended it and watched its contents spill to the floor, a strange desire rising in his chest. "I am no longer a child!" he screamed to no one in particular, "I can take what you have to tell me! I wish only to understand!" Tears filled his eyes again as he glanced out the window to find Haldamir and Radagast conversing. His mind filled with hatred. He knew they spoke of him, of his fate, but Mararion had locked him in the room, and they could not hear his cries. Exhausted, Eladlín fell onto the soft bed. "I wish Haldamir had never found me," he mumbled as sleep took him, "Better to have died than to suffer such a fate."
Meanwhile, Elrond sat by the lake, his mind consumed with grief. The arrival of the child stirred the painful memories from so long ago. It seemed like many ages had passed since his brother had left him.He should have fallen into the unknown years before. Yet the arrival of the child also stirred hope within him. Perhaps their paths were not yet set in stone. "I may yet see the old fool before the sun wanes on our time here." he smiled. Though their parting had been hard and unfriendly, there were still many good memories from their years together. When Maglor had released them to the care of Gil-galad, and they saw the great city of Lindon for the first time, it was both the peak and the end of their relationship. It was on the journey to the city that they bonded together, for it was Elrond who was entrusted with his brother's care, and he performed his task diligently. Yet when they reached the city, it was Elros who chose to remain behind. Their parting was swift and angry, for Elrond truly believed that Elros denied the passion of his heart. That was the end, yes, and with it Elrond's heart had closed. He looked away from his reflection in the lake, for it reminded him of the bewildered child.
"Yes." called his mind, "the child. Elros sent him to you, there must be a reason."
He stood abruptly, and left for the visitor's quarters. Elrond would not leave the child to suffer the indignity and torment of not understanding. He had trodden down that path himself once.
From his perch at the window, Eladlín watched the strange elf walk up to the tower. A few hours had passed since his fit, and now darkness was creeping into the city. Mararion had stopped by for a moment to tell him that he would collect Eladlín for dinner in an hour, but he left before Eladlín could ask him any questions. Now, however, it appeared that the strange elf had come for him. He argued animatedly with Haldamir before Radagast interrupted and the elf was allowed to continue. A few minutes later, a soft knocking was heard at the door. Eladlín opened it eagerly to find a peaceful face staring down at him. "Hello, Eladlín." the elf said quietly, "My name is Elrond."
"Hullo, Elrond." replied Eladlín, lost for words now that he had the opportunity to take in the face of the elf. It was not unlike his own, and Eladlín found it odd that the two bore such a striking resemblance. Elrond stepped away from the door, beckoning for the boy to follow him. The two walked in silence through Gil-galad's private halls, finally coming to rest on a stone bench that overlooked the northern mountains. It stood on an elegantly carved balcony that curved gently around the bathhouse. The two looked out at the view for a long time, each unsure about how to proceed. Finally, Elrond cleared his throat and Eladlín nearly junped into his lap at the sudden noise.
"Eladlín?" he questioned in the soft voice he had used earlier.
"Yes?" replied Eladlín.
"Do you know why you are here?"
Eladlín shook his head. "I know only that you are supposed to give me the answers. Throughout my entire journey I have wondered why my father sent me away, but no one will answer my plea."
"I am afraid that I cannot grant your request without the approval of Lord Gil-galad, though I do know the answers. Will it suffice to say that I am glad to have met you at long last?"
Eladlín gave a forced nod as he fought back his frustration. However, Elrond's explanation, or lack thereof, had given Eladlín a clue about what was to come. "At long last." Did this mean that Elrond had expected him?
However, before his mind could reply, Elrond stood up. "I have heard that you have a soft hand with a horse. I can delay dinner for a few hours if you would like to go riding with me."
Eladlín followed him out into the courtyard. "I would. Do you know if Caranaur has healed?"
"Who?"
"My horse. Well, I suppose 'tis really Mararion's horse, but I rode him until we were attacked in the woods and I was injured."
Elrond spun around at these last words. "Injured? What happened?"
Eladlín raised his eyebrows. "You have not heard?"
"Who was it? Did you see them? Were they of elven kind?" These questions were asked in quick succession.
"It was only a pack of Wargs, there were no men or elves there."
"Are you sure?" persisted Elrond. "There were no other creatures?"
"No. What do you mean by that?"
Elrond relaxed visibly. "You would understand, had you seen them. The orcs' activity has increased of late, and it would be of great concern had they strayed so close to our borders."
"Well, we have been attacked by orcs before. Near Edhellond in the fields of Lamedon, they came at us, but then suddenly they turned and left. We never figured out why."
"I doubt you ever will." replied Elrond as they reached the stables. A familiar whinny cried out to them, and Eladlín swung the stall door open with great delight. "Caranaur!" The chestnut wheeled and stamped. Elrond reached up and grabbed a bridle and a saddle. Eladlín frowned. "I am not a child, I have no need of that." he said as he swung himself up with practiced ease. Elrond watched him carefully for a few moments, his mind refusing to believe what he saw. Not only did the boy ride without a bridle and saddle, he did not even use the horse's mane to control him! He rode with an elvish air, and the horse responded as such. Eladlín gave him a strange look as he trotted out of the stall. Did the elf know nothing? Who rode with such strange contraptions? A few moments later, his questions were answered. Elrond sat astride a great black stallion, who skirted dangerously when others approached, but obeyed Elrond's every whim. Only a very skilled horseman could have tamed such a beast. 'Twas not horses that Elrond knew nothing about, it was Eladlín. The stallion struggled against Elrond for but a moment, for it was resistant to travel alongside Caranaur, but it eventually gave in at a light tap on the hindquarters. Caranaur regarded the newcomer as rather insolent and proceeded to ignore him for the rest of the journey.
They rode out of the kingdom side by side. Eladlín found the courage to speak, and so he told Elrond of is journey. Elrond, however, found more comfort in silence, and was content to just listen to the boy. The trail led them into a crowded wood, for Elrond had taken care to avoid the ocean. He knew that Lord Gil-galad took solace there. "If it were I that grieved for a son, I would not want to be disturbed either." he thought to himself. Though truly Elrond and Elros were not bound by blood to Lord Gil-galad, it was he that had raised them. He had loved them as though they were his own. But Elrond shook such thoughts from his mind, for 'twas impolite to ignore the child.
"And then Beritaur led us to the house of healers, and a few days later, Radagast brought us to court!" he finished triumphantly.
"Who are these men you speak of?" asked Elrond gently, "Of Radagast I have heard but the others are unfamiliar to me."
Eladlín continued, "Mararion is of the Noldor and I believe he held a position of some importance in Edhellond. Haldamir lived with his friends in the mountains, but he left his home to guide us through the pass. And Siriondil." he stopped short. Until now he had left his friend out of the story, for mentioning his name hurt beyond words. He could blame none but himself for what had happened between them. What had he done wrong?
Elrond watched him carefully, "Was he the one who threatened Lord Gil- galad?"
Eladlín nodded and looked away, trying to camouflage the tears in his eyes. But Elrond had seen the depth of his pain and he understood immediately. Resolving not to dwell on the matter any longer, silence ensued as Elrond searched for a new topic of conversation. "Did you have many friends in Númenor?"
"No. I did not have any."
"None? Why not?"
Eladlín looked up at him slowly. "They wanted nothing to do with me. Their interest lay in swordplay and the farmland. I wanted only to meet an elf."
Elrond could not hide his surprise. "Why?"
Eladlín brought a tattered manuscript out of his pocket. "Mama's book. I wanted to learn to ride," he patted Caranaur gently, "to hunt with a bow, and I loved the sea. They did not understand, for my desires frightened them."
Elrond smiled again. He had given the book to Elros at their last parting. He never realized that it would lead his nephew back to him.
"I suppose I am strange, after all. Even my companions have seen fit to desert me. You are the only one who can still speak to me without clenched teeth. I am naught but a burden." Eladlín finished, finally voicing his concerns.
Elrond reached over and lay his hand on the child's back, "I know that my words must mean nothing, but that is not true. So much has happened in the last few days, and no one knows how to deal with it. Confronting you means confronting their fears. They will have to face reality when they speak truly with you, and they know it."
"What has happened?" he said firmly, pulling away from Elrond's touch. "If someone would at least have the decency to explain it to me.Do you see these scars? These muscles? I have earned them, I have toiled to earn my keep. I do not deserve this." He spurred Caranaur roughly and the horse spooked and flew for the protection of the woods. Elrond lingered for but a moment, reflecting on what Eladlín had said, before following him into the forest. If only he could catch him, he would tell him everything. The boy, though a child he was no longer, was right. He did not deserve his pain.
~~~~~~~~~~
Back in the city, life was also amiss. Siriondil was trying vainly to figure out what to do, and the cryptic words of Mararion were of no help. "I want to stay but it is my duty to return to my men and captain the ship back to Númenor. And I do miss the sea so." he voice faded out and he inhaled deeply. He could almost taste the salty water.
"Follow your heart." replied Mararion as he settled himself on a chair by the door.
"But that is the problem!" exclaimed Siriondil, "My heart is split, I do not know which path to follow!"
"Follow your heart." replied Mararion with a sly grin.
Siriondil turned on him, now brandishing a hot fire poker. "If you say that one more time, you may never speak again."
Mararion stood abruptly and made to leave. "I have told you once before, the advice of an elf is given rarely and should always be heeded." He turned on his heel and walked out of the room, leaving Siriondil looking rather odd indeed. The servants, who had been cleaning the room until the argument had started, looked at each other strangely. Siriondil glared at them. "Scat! Get out of here!" he yelled, waving the poker around dangerously and succeeding in injuring none but himself. As he sat down to nurse the growing blister on his hand, he glanced out the window. "What am I to do?" he asked softly.
Mararion made for Eladlín's room. It was high time the boy was readied for supper. As he approached, he found Haldamir napping in the bench near the tower. "What are you doing?" he asked as he reached over and shook him. The elf leapt awake, and pulled out his dagger before Mararion could even react. "Since when do you attack your brother?" he demanded.
"Since I have not slept in many moons." He walked away from him, his demeanor strange and wistful. "It is hard to come by these days."
Mararion softened immediately. "I know what happened in the Wild, Haldamir. You do not need to hide it from me."
Haldamir raised his arms as if to reply before they fell sadly to his side. "It was just.real. I have dreamed of her, of what could have been so many times. But this was different. I saw her, I felt her fingertips brush my face." he turned away again and started to walk out towards the stables but stopped short.
"What is it?" asked Mararion.
"Nephredil. I had forgotten, what with all the excitement and all. But she is no longer there." he turned away again and struck out for the shore. Mararion let him go, for he understood that some wounds could not be healed.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Lord Gil-galad collected himself and stood, brushing the grainy sand from his clothes.
"My, my Lord?" called Nurnon cautiously.
Gil-galad turned to face him. "I believe that I have grown weary, Nurnon."
Nurnon's expression was grave. "It is not you, sire. 'Tis your heart."
The King stared hard at Nurnon, who squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze. "Though you are young, and have yet to see battle, there is much wisdom in you, Nurnon. Do not forget that."
"Thank, thank you my Lord." he stuttered.
Gil-galad started to walk back towards the city. "Why have you roused me?" he asked.
"Elrond seeks your guidance, my Lord. And the welcoming feast grows cold." he added as his stomach grumbled involuntarily.
The elf quickened his pace. "Thank you, Nurnon. You may start the feast without me. Send Elrond to my private chambers."
"As you wish, my Lord." said Nurnon as he bowed and took off at a run for the city. Gil-galad felt a smile creep up on his face as he watched Nurnon bowl over a merchant's cart. To Nurnon, making sure the orders were completed in a timely matter were of incredible importance. The lad was strangely loyal, but that was a fine trait to have in a servant. He just had yet to prove himself in battle. For war-strewn had been Gil-galad's life, and he judged his people on their experiences.
A few minutes later, he arrived in his chamber to find Elrond already there. He was clearly anxious and pacing. As Elrond heard the door creak, he glanced up, his eyes wide. "What is it, Elrond?"
"The boy. He has gone. I took him for a ride in the woods, but he grew angry with me and left. I cannot find him."
Gil-galad did not waste time replying. He left the room with a sweep of his cape and Elrond followed on his heels. "He is somewhere in the Northern Forest. His steed is fast, and his hand is steady. I could not catch him."
By now the pair had already found their way to the stables. "Ready Hrívërámar!" he called as they walked up to the stable. One stable hand flew into the stable, but the other lingered. "What of Avadthurin, my Lord?" he asked, directing his question at Elrond, for even as he spoke the stallion thrashed at the stall door. Elrond disappeared into the barn in reply. A few moments later he reappeared, his horse almost magically calmed. Gil-galad waiting impatiently for him, and Hrívërámar, his white mare, wheeled and stamped. "Take the eastern path. I will spread the word to the west." Elrond left at once, but Gil-galad looked down at the nervous stable hand. "Go to the Great Hall and tell Nurnon to spread the word. The boy is missing." If the stable hand found this message strange, he did not comment, but left at once. Hrívërámar leapt into the woods, for although she was a seasoned mare, she was also a descendent of the Mearas, and did not tire easily.
~~~~~~~~~~
Caranaur stumbled over the undergrowth and Eladl(n pitched forward, nearly tumbling from his perch. He urged the horse on faster, but Caranaur slowed as they left the trail behind them and reached a small stream. Eladlín dismounted, ready to yell at his steed, but then he got a clear look at him. His head was down and his sides struggled to bring in enough breath. He coughed, and a shiver of pain coursed through his body. All anger was forgotten, and Eladlín immediately regretted hurting his friend. Though truly hurt was not the word, for he had nearly broken him. He walked back over to him and Caranaur made a great effort in lifting his head to greet him. Eladlín winced, for the horse's continued friendship hit him harder than the sight of his troubled breathing. "I am sorry, my friend. We will not continue until you are ready, and even then at a slower pace. We are far enough away, they will not catch us."
Caranaur swung his head back and nudged him. He had been bred to ride, and the fact that his body slowed him down was an embarrassment to him. His heart was still full of pride, and he would not fail the boy.
Eladlín laughed softly. "No Caranaur. We will rest. I am tired as well." The horse gave him a quizzical look and walked slowly over to the stream to drink. Eladlín settled himself under a large beech tree and drifted slowly off into sleep. Though he knew not where his newfound freedom would take him, he knew what he had left, and that was enough to comfort him.
~~~~~~~~~~
The stable hand broke through the doors of the Great Hall and stood panting amidst the others.
Nurnon looked at him kindly. He had been in similar circumstances frequently. "What is it?" he asked.
The stable hand looked up, "Lord Gil-galad and Elrond sent me here. They are searching the northern woods. The boy.the boy is gone."
The hall stood at once in a sudden wave of motion and noise. Mararion found his way to Siriondil and Haldamir. They both looked up at him, unsure of how to proceed. "We ride." he said shortly before sweeping out of the hall. They followed on his heels, and within a few minutes were mounted on their respective steeds. Siriondil struck off at once for the shore. He could feel it pulling at his heart constantly, and he knew that Eladlín felt it as well.
Siriondil's intuitions were right, though Eladlín did not realize where he was headed. When he awoke, he mounted the recovered Caranaur and trotted slowly down the river. He knew that it would hide their scent, and the cold water soothed Caranaur's sweaty flanks. Eventually, the river widened as it prepared to mingle with the salty seas. As the horse and rider stepped out onto the sand, it was a magnificent sight to behold. The wind whipped around them, giving life to Caranaur's mane and Eladlín's mop of hair. The horse sidestepped uncertainly, as he did not know what to do, and Eladlín tightened his grip in the horse's mane. He steered him over to the firmer sand, where the water crashed against the shore, and nudged him softly. The horse responded, his body leaping out of sand as though he intended to fly. His hindquarters gathered speed until he could travel no faster, for the confines of the world held him back. He slowed after a few minutes and returned to a walk, his desire fulfilled. Eladlín smiled. Though he had forgotten the smells and the sounds, the sea had still crashed within his heart. "I know not where our road takes us, my friend, but as long as we are near the shore, I doubt we shall be of want for happiness." Caranaur whinnied in agreement. Having been born near the shores of Edhellond, he too could appreciate the beauty of the ocean.
"Eladlín!" called Siriondil, "Eladlín!" He could see the boy's outline in the distance. The boy sighed and paused, for he knew that Tossgalenas would outrun them eventually as her legs were still fresh. 'Twas pointless to run. Siriondil nudged Tossgalenas into a gentle canter and reached Eladlín within a few minutes. "You are still here! Bless the sea."
Eladlín frowned slightly, as he did not understand Siriondil's meaning, and replied, "Not for long. My journey will take me farther north."
"Think not of where your journey takes you. Think of where your heart takes you. Would you leave those you have taken you in as their own? Mararion, who mended your clothes, lent you his horse? Haldamir, who has left his home in the mountains and nearly died to protect you?.Would you leave me?" As he spoke, the words of Mararion reverberated within him. He knew now that his heart was not spilt, but that his mind had spoken for his heart.
Eladlín's stern look faltered. Siriondil sat mounted before him, his tears glistening in the soft light of the sunset. "No. I would not leave you. I could never leave you, for you are a father to me, and I will never forget that."
Siriondil dismounted and looked up at him, "And you are more than I could have ever hoped for in a son." Eladlín dismounted as well, and embraced him firmly.
Mararion trotted out of the woods, and stopped short. He smiled broadly, for the bond between the man and the boy light a fire within his own heart. He turned and started the journey back to the city. Perhaps things were starting to go right after all. At least one of them had found the end to their journey.
~~~~~~~~~
Siriondil and Eladlín rode back to the city some time later. Mararion had informed the others of his findings, and the would-be rescuers had returned to the city, none more relieved than Elrond. He had taken responsibility for the boy's flight upon himself. It was all his fault, for he should have confided in him. But to trust a child with everything he had to tell.he did not know how Eladlín would be able to handle it. Yet somewhere within him he understood that Eladlín was not an ordinary boy, and he knew that he was underestimating him. As the pair rode into the stable's courtyard, he alone stepped forward from the others. Gil-galad lurked back in the shadows, his look hard and approving. He knew what strength it took to reveal the truth, and he was proud of Elrond. He had taught him well, but that was all he could do. It was not up to him, it was Elrond's decision, for it concerned his kin.
Siriondil nudged Eladlín gently. He whipped around, his eyes large and frightened. "What am I to do?" he asked quietly.
Siriondil smiled down at him, "Go to him. Though you do not know it yet, your heart leads you there."
"My heart leads me here." he replied, his stubbornness taking over his fear. He knew that Siriondil was sending him on alone, but he did not feel ready to leave his protection.
Siriondil's expression did not change as he stood motionless. Eladlín glanced between him and Elrond several times before he made his decision. He strode out into the courtyard and faced Elrond. "What is it that you wish to tell me?"
"Many things, some of which you will not want to hear, and some of which you will not understand. But I shall tell you regardless." He walked out into the darkness, but Eladlín faltered again. He looked back at Siriondil, who still stood alone and quiet. He hesitated and followed Elrond out into the darkness.
As Eladlín left the circle of light, Siriondil's worn heart finally broke. He knew that he had done the right thing by sending the boy on, but it was difficult nonetheless. Things would never be the same between them, for Eladlín would grow to love the elvish ways of Elrond, and eventually their connection would break. But such was the way of the world, and Siriondil was happy for the time that he had had. He walked away from the others, for their piteous looks were unbearable.
~~~~~~~~
Eladlín loped after Elrond, whose pace was swifter than usual. Suddenly he stopped and Eladlín almost bowled into him. "Where are we?" the boy asked quietly, for his awe consumed his senses. A large moonlit lake spread out before them, white rocks reflecting the soft light of the moon. Moss curled down over the banks, but the grass was shorn and thick.
Elrond seated himself on one of the larger rocks and Eladlín sat beside him. It took a few moments before he felt ready to reply, but reply he did. "I myself have not been here in many moons. This is the place where I last saw my brother." He registered the boy's surprise, and continued, "Yes, it seems strange, does it not? Even to me it does not make sense, though I have tried to sort it out many times. I suppose I should begin my journey with the leaving of my mother. When I was but a young child, a great war was waged near the tower where I lived. My mother bundled up my brother and I and snuck us out the rear entrance as the troops approached our home. We fled to the protection of the woods, and it was not until much later that I found out what had happened to my parents. As the war waged before her, my mother fled to the topmost floor of the tower. She leaned out of the window a Simaril in her hands. That stone was what caused the war in the first place, as it was the most beautiful stone ever seen in Middle-Earth. As she leaned out of the window, she wished for one last stroke of good fortune. She fell from the sill, but rather than go crashing to her death, she floated away. Ulmo, Vala of the Seas, had seen fit to turn her into a swan, and she flew gracefully away, on a journey to find my father. He was sailing the seas, looking for his parents and Valinor, among the other passions that ruled his troubled mind. Together they found Valinor and pleaded to the Gods to help defeat Morgoth, the evil Vala who had begun the war in the first place. After he was defeated, my father's ship was sent to the heavens to scan for his return, while my mother remained in Valinor and learned the speech and flight of birds, so she could fly to greet my father when his great journey brought them close."
"Papa told me that story once. I thought it very beautiful then, as I do now. But what of you and your brother?"
"Patience, young one. We were found by the enemy, the elves who were possessed with an obsession to find the Simarils. The one who found us, Maglor, took pity on us and released us to the care of Lord Gil-galad and he took us in. We remained with him until the time came for my brother and I to make our decisions. We chose to live separate lives, and I have not seen him since that fateful night."
"But why did you have to choose to live apart? Why could you not live happily together?"
"My life is both a blessing and a curse, Eladlín. My mother and father were both of the half-elven, meaning that each had a parent of elvish and human descent. As such they were given the power to choose their destiny. They could choose to have the immortality of the elves or the fleeting life of men. Both of them chose the elvish manner, but my brother and I were faced with same choice, and he chose mortality. I did not, and our parting was swift and bitter, for both of us believed that the other had chosen the wrong path. When I see you and your vivacity for life, I am reminded of myself as a child. That is why your father sent you to me, Eladlín. For your father is none other than my brother."
Eladlín backed slowly away from him. "You speak falsely." he muttered, his mind not wanting to believe what he had heard.
"I assure you, I do not. I am Elrond, and my brother is Elros. We were both named for the cave and the spray of the waterfall where we were found when Maglor discovered us."
Eladlín shook his head in disbelief, but the stern gaze of Elrond clearly showed that the elf spoke the truth. After a few minutes of silence, Eladlín looked up, "Why did my father choose that path?"
"I wish I knew, for if I did our parting would have been friendly, and there would be naught but good memories."
"May I?"
Elrond looked away for he had known that that question would come eventually, but it did not make it any easier to answer. "I do not believe so. Elros and I were both truly half-elven, but you are not, for your mother is of the race of men."
Tears of anger sprang to Eladlín's eyes. "I hate him!" he yelled, "It was always him who made me participate in those awful hunting trips, who made the decision to move to Numenor," He paused and looked away, "who made me a man." He stood and turned away from Elrond. "I must leave you now, but I thank you for telling me the truth."
"No." said Elrond calmly, "You cannot leave yet for I am not finished. I forewarned you that you would not want to hear much of what I had to tell you. Have you ever heard the tale of the Last Elf?"
Eladlín hesitated before he turned, finally realizing that Elrond would be able to understand his tears. "Yes."
"It is a tale that has brought comfort to me many times. Although he dragged you away from your destiny, Elros also deserted me. Can you understand what that feels like? Of course not, as I cannot fully understand your anger. But remember what you learned from the Last Elf. Never let your anger overpower your emotions. Consider the words of your mind before you act on your heart. It will not always lead you right. Though it seems like Elros did you a great wrongdoing, remember that he was trying to find a better life for you. He tried to give you everything he thought you wanted. And his way of apologizing was to send you to me. Though you may not have the longevity of elves in your blood, you are among us now and we will treat you as such."
Eladlín lifted his tear-stained face to Elrond, whose face glowed a pale white from the gentle moonlight. Though he held back his tears, for he no longer had tears to weep with, his face was creased with lines of sorrow. "I am sorry for your pain." he said at long last.
"As I am for your's." replied Elrond. When Elrond refused to elaborate, Eladlín fled from the lake. It held too many memories for him to linger any longer. Elrond watched him go, knowing that he had done the right thing but.now the boy would be haunted with the image of "What if?" It unsettled his soul, and he set out with his own journey to complete.
Eladlín halted in chilling white of the moonlight. Without knowing it, his heart had taken him to the sea. He fell to his knees, his fists clenched tightly. He knew now that his journey had been his father's way of making amends, but it did not soothe the frustration that rose in his heart. He sank backwards on the beach, his body so consumed with feelings that it physically drained him. His mind argued between betrayal, anger, sorrow, understanding, and yet, through it all, hope. Hope that Siriondil would stay with him, hope that Elrond would keep to his word, and above all, hope that Elrond was wrong about his future. He did not feel fit in a mortal body, and even as he looked at his outstretched hand, he wished for something more. This life should not have been his to live, the choice had been wrongly made. He looked out over the ocean, knowing that somewhere out there was his father. "It's not fair," he sobbed quietly, "It should have been my choice as well." A small crunching noise on the beach made him look up, and what he saw took his breath away. A magnificent white stag strode openly across the beach, its ivory hooves sinking in the soft sand. As it reached the waning tide, it heaved a great sigh and turned to look at Eladlín, who lay bewildered in sand. He turned away, hoping that it would ignore him and carry on its business.
"I know what it is you desire." said a voice inside his head. "I can see your thoughts and dreams."
He looked back as the stag strode towards him. But even as he did, it changed swiftly from a stag to a beautiful woman. And yet, at the same time, Eladlín realized that she was not a woman. Her beauty surpassed that of any she had ever seen, her flowing hair more golden then the sun, her face the very definition of elegance and grace. Flowers sprung up in her wake, as though her very footsteps were the salt of the earth. Her eyes shown a luminous blue. She wore a tightly fitted white gown, hemmed with the silvery shimmer of dew, and made of a fabric lighter and more beautiful than any ever seen on Middle-Earth.
"Who.who are you?" stuttered Eladlín, at a complete loss for words.
She laughed, a glowing, sparkling sound. "I am V(na the Ever-Young, wife of Orom( and a Queen of the Valar."
He nodded slowly, understanding and yet disbelieving at the same time. "Why have you come here? What of your own land?"
"I have come to speak with you, for you are a descendent of Elwing, or Ninqualqua, as she is known among my people. She has watched you from afar since you were a babe, and she has asked me to bequeath you one wish. She is one of my truest companions, and her favor I will grant freely. Speak wisely, for you may not change your mind. It must be a wish true of heart, for my powers alone will not grant it. What is it you desire?"
Eladlín did not reply immediately, for her understood the graveness in her voice. Her coming to the shores of Middle-Earth was not a trival matter, and he could not answer her without searching deep within himself. As the silence wavered between them, the strength of her beauty seemed to grow, for she herself had searched deep within the boy and found him to her approval. At long last, he looked back up at her. "Have you made your choice?"
"Yes, milady. I wish to become an elf."
Her smile broadened. Ninqualqua, though V(na had doubted her, had been right. Inside the child was a heart of gold, uncorrupted by the world around him. When he could have asked for the all the riches in the world, the fastest steed, the most beautiful castle, he had chosen that which he knew above all else would make him truly happy. "Kneel before me, Eladlín son of Elros." He did so obediently and looked to the ground. She strode the last few steps until she stood fully in front of him and laid one pearl- white finger on his forehead. Suddenly she was gone, and Eladlín would have thought it all a dream if not for the white flowers wilting in the sand. He raised his hand to his ear and traced the pointed leaf pattern. His hand unfolded in front of him, no longer with the chunkiness of a man, but with the slender beauty of an elf. He rose to his feet and his vision sharpened immediately as he discerned gulls playing in the tide pools a few miles down the shore. His hearing was also keener, and he heard footsteps approach him from behind. A ragged Elrond approached him, knowing nothing of what had just passed. At first his gaze lingered on the dying flowers, which without their maiden's beauty perished quickly in the desert of the beach, but then his gaze shifted to Eladlín. The boy had changed subtlety. Most striking of was the grin spread across his face, but that was not it. Something had happened, but he did not understand what. At long last they faced one another, and it was then that Elrond saw the gentle curve of his ear. He froze, not wanting to believe it, and slowly raised one hand to stroke the boy, as though he could not believe it without touching it himself. As his hand fell back, something seized him, and he flung his arms unexpectedly around Eladlín's shoulders. His sorrow and pity forgotten, Eladlín returned his embrace, knowing that his change had mended the loneliness in Elrond's heart.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Mararion readied Midheiliant. The companions had decided to partake on one last ride up the shore before they parted ways. Mararion and Haldamir were destined for the townships of the Noldor in the North, while Radagast had his own business to attend to in the forest. Siriondil and Eladlín were to remain in Mithlond, for Siriondil could not part with Eladlín, nor could Eladlín leave what remained of his family. They mounted as one and struck off for the shoreline. Eladlín sat astride Caranaur, and Siriondil was on Tossgalenas. Haldamir and Radagast were mounted on steeds of the deepest bay coloring. They were gifts from the court of Lord Gil-galad, as their own steeds had perished en route to Mithlond. Mith(l followed slowly behind. Even though there was no baggage for her to carry and her wounds had yet to heal, she would not be left behind. A laughing Mararion had released her from her stall and she followed them resolutely. "She is a stubborn beast." he remarked.
The tone of their outing was light, but with a serious undertone. Each knew that this may well be the last time they saw each other. "Even though we will not have to worry about losing you to the perils of old age!" joked Haldamir as he nudged the lad. Eladlín blushed and looked away. Since his change, the others had not treated him different outwardly, but he knew that deep within himself he now shared a kinship with Haldamir and Mararion.
Radagast smiled, his wizened face reflecting his happiness. His decision to go with them had been right after all. His influence had given Mararion the confidence to lead the others, and together they made it through the perilous wild. Though pressing business now lead him away, he knew that the small part he had played had indeed influenced the outcome of the journey.
Caranaur reared, his fiery legs kicking out in front of him. He bounded out a few steps in front of the others and turned to face them, as if challenging them to follow. Midheiliant responded, oblivious to the heading of Mararion. The others followed suit, and before long the five companions galloped as one down the beach. Mith(l limped silently behind, for she was content just to know the others were there; racing had never been in her blood. Suddenly, Caranaur spooked. He pawed nervously at the ground and sidestepped into Tossgalenas, who bucked in response. Mararion sat up and let his keen senses take over as his body struggled to contain his own steed.
But Eladlín beat him to it. "There, in the thicket!" he cried, pointing to the edge of the woods as he urged Caranaur on. The pair flew across the sand as Eladlín urged the fiery little chestnut on. Haldamir followed close on his heels, but with so little weight on his back, Caranaur started to pull away. "Eladlín!" called Mararion, "Stop! You know not what lies there!"
Eladlín ignored his words and rode until he reached the mysterious figure. As he dismounted, a weak wicker reached his ears, and he pulled back the thorns to find an injured Mânêl standing guard over Vinyayáviëiel, the elf from Edhellond. She looked up at Eladlín, her face a deathly pale. "I must find Mararion." she whispered as she collapsed on the ground.
~~~~~~~~~
And even more housekeeping notes.
Mearas: the strain of horses that Shadowfax belonged to. The greatest of the Horse "breeds", they were often thought of as the Lords of Horses and were thought to have been brought to Middle-Earth by the Valar.
Hrívërámar: Quenya for Winter's Wings, literally
Avadthurin: Sindarian for Secret Reluctance. *looks at all the reviewers rolling their eyes*.Ok, well I found it funny.
Wow, I'm really mean, aren't I? Yes, I know what a horrible ending that was..but hopefully my next chapter should be up faster, so don't get too mad at me. Thanks for all the reviews, everyone!!!
Chapter 14 Tears of Sorrow, Tears of Joy
Though Mararion had promised that Elrond would give him answers, the arrival of the mysterious elf had only left Eladlín with more questions. He understood none of Mararion's parting words, or the sympathetic glance of Haldamir. And worst of all, he did not understand the reaction of King Gil-galad, and the elf that Siriondil had called Elrond. He looked as though he should be Eladlín's brother, but countless years and an entire race separated them. Nor could he comprehend the strange feeling he had had in his chest when he saw Elrond for the first time. "Arggh!" he yelled, venting his frustration on an unsuspecting table. He upended it and watched its contents spill to the floor, a strange desire rising in his chest. "I am no longer a child!" he screamed to no one in particular, "I can take what you have to tell me! I wish only to understand!" Tears filled his eyes again as he glanced out the window to find Haldamir and Radagast conversing. His mind filled with hatred. He knew they spoke of him, of his fate, but Mararion had locked him in the room, and they could not hear his cries. Exhausted, Eladlín fell onto the soft bed. "I wish Haldamir had never found me," he mumbled as sleep took him, "Better to have died than to suffer such a fate."
Meanwhile, Elrond sat by the lake, his mind consumed with grief. The arrival of the child stirred the painful memories from so long ago. It seemed like many ages had passed since his brother had left him.He should have fallen into the unknown years before. Yet the arrival of the child also stirred hope within him. Perhaps their paths were not yet set in stone. "I may yet see the old fool before the sun wanes on our time here." he smiled. Though their parting had been hard and unfriendly, there were still many good memories from their years together. When Maglor had released them to the care of Gil-galad, and they saw the great city of Lindon for the first time, it was both the peak and the end of their relationship. It was on the journey to the city that they bonded together, for it was Elrond who was entrusted with his brother's care, and he performed his task diligently. Yet when they reached the city, it was Elros who chose to remain behind. Their parting was swift and angry, for Elrond truly believed that Elros denied the passion of his heart. That was the end, yes, and with it Elrond's heart had closed. He looked away from his reflection in the lake, for it reminded him of the bewildered child.
"Yes." called his mind, "the child. Elros sent him to you, there must be a reason."
He stood abruptly, and left for the visitor's quarters. Elrond would not leave the child to suffer the indignity and torment of not understanding. He had trodden down that path himself once.
From his perch at the window, Eladlín watched the strange elf walk up to the tower. A few hours had passed since his fit, and now darkness was creeping into the city. Mararion had stopped by for a moment to tell him that he would collect Eladlín for dinner in an hour, but he left before Eladlín could ask him any questions. Now, however, it appeared that the strange elf had come for him. He argued animatedly with Haldamir before Radagast interrupted and the elf was allowed to continue. A few minutes later, a soft knocking was heard at the door. Eladlín opened it eagerly to find a peaceful face staring down at him. "Hello, Eladlín." the elf said quietly, "My name is Elrond."
"Hullo, Elrond." replied Eladlín, lost for words now that he had the opportunity to take in the face of the elf. It was not unlike his own, and Eladlín found it odd that the two bore such a striking resemblance. Elrond stepped away from the door, beckoning for the boy to follow him. The two walked in silence through Gil-galad's private halls, finally coming to rest on a stone bench that overlooked the northern mountains. It stood on an elegantly carved balcony that curved gently around the bathhouse. The two looked out at the view for a long time, each unsure about how to proceed. Finally, Elrond cleared his throat and Eladlín nearly junped into his lap at the sudden noise.
"Eladlín?" he questioned in the soft voice he had used earlier.
"Yes?" replied Eladlín.
"Do you know why you are here?"
Eladlín shook his head. "I know only that you are supposed to give me the answers. Throughout my entire journey I have wondered why my father sent me away, but no one will answer my plea."
"I am afraid that I cannot grant your request without the approval of Lord Gil-galad, though I do know the answers. Will it suffice to say that I am glad to have met you at long last?"
Eladlín gave a forced nod as he fought back his frustration. However, Elrond's explanation, or lack thereof, had given Eladlín a clue about what was to come. "At long last." Did this mean that Elrond had expected him?
However, before his mind could reply, Elrond stood up. "I have heard that you have a soft hand with a horse. I can delay dinner for a few hours if you would like to go riding with me."
Eladlín followed him out into the courtyard. "I would. Do you know if Caranaur has healed?"
"Who?"
"My horse. Well, I suppose 'tis really Mararion's horse, but I rode him until we were attacked in the woods and I was injured."
Elrond spun around at these last words. "Injured? What happened?"
Eladlín raised his eyebrows. "You have not heard?"
"Who was it? Did you see them? Were they of elven kind?" These questions were asked in quick succession.
"It was only a pack of Wargs, there were no men or elves there."
"Are you sure?" persisted Elrond. "There were no other creatures?"
"No. What do you mean by that?"
Elrond relaxed visibly. "You would understand, had you seen them. The orcs' activity has increased of late, and it would be of great concern had they strayed so close to our borders."
"Well, we have been attacked by orcs before. Near Edhellond in the fields of Lamedon, they came at us, but then suddenly they turned and left. We never figured out why."
"I doubt you ever will." replied Elrond as they reached the stables. A familiar whinny cried out to them, and Eladlín swung the stall door open with great delight. "Caranaur!" The chestnut wheeled and stamped. Elrond reached up and grabbed a bridle and a saddle. Eladlín frowned. "I am not a child, I have no need of that." he said as he swung himself up with practiced ease. Elrond watched him carefully for a few moments, his mind refusing to believe what he saw. Not only did the boy ride without a bridle and saddle, he did not even use the horse's mane to control him! He rode with an elvish air, and the horse responded as such. Eladlín gave him a strange look as he trotted out of the stall. Did the elf know nothing? Who rode with such strange contraptions? A few moments later, his questions were answered. Elrond sat astride a great black stallion, who skirted dangerously when others approached, but obeyed Elrond's every whim. Only a very skilled horseman could have tamed such a beast. 'Twas not horses that Elrond knew nothing about, it was Eladlín. The stallion struggled against Elrond for but a moment, for it was resistant to travel alongside Caranaur, but it eventually gave in at a light tap on the hindquarters. Caranaur regarded the newcomer as rather insolent and proceeded to ignore him for the rest of the journey.
They rode out of the kingdom side by side. Eladlín found the courage to speak, and so he told Elrond of is journey. Elrond, however, found more comfort in silence, and was content to just listen to the boy. The trail led them into a crowded wood, for Elrond had taken care to avoid the ocean. He knew that Lord Gil-galad took solace there. "If it were I that grieved for a son, I would not want to be disturbed either." he thought to himself. Though truly Elrond and Elros were not bound by blood to Lord Gil-galad, it was he that had raised them. He had loved them as though they were his own. But Elrond shook such thoughts from his mind, for 'twas impolite to ignore the child.
"And then Beritaur led us to the house of healers, and a few days later, Radagast brought us to court!" he finished triumphantly.
"Who are these men you speak of?" asked Elrond gently, "Of Radagast I have heard but the others are unfamiliar to me."
Eladlín continued, "Mararion is of the Noldor and I believe he held a position of some importance in Edhellond. Haldamir lived with his friends in the mountains, but he left his home to guide us through the pass. And Siriondil." he stopped short. Until now he had left his friend out of the story, for mentioning his name hurt beyond words. He could blame none but himself for what had happened between them. What had he done wrong?
Elrond watched him carefully, "Was he the one who threatened Lord Gil- galad?"
Eladlín nodded and looked away, trying to camouflage the tears in his eyes. But Elrond had seen the depth of his pain and he understood immediately. Resolving not to dwell on the matter any longer, silence ensued as Elrond searched for a new topic of conversation. "Did you have many friends in Númenor?"
"No. I did not have any."
"None? Why not?"
Eladlín looked up at him slowly. "They wanted nothing to do with me. Their interest lay in swordplay and the farmland. I wanted only to meet an elf."
Elrond could not hide his surprise. "Why?"
Eladlín brought a tattered manuscript out of his pocket. "Mama's book. I wanted to learn to ride," he patted Caranaur gently, "to hunt with a bow, and I loved the sea. They did not understand, for my desires frightened them."
Elrond smiled again. He had given the book to Elros at their last parting. He never realized that it would lead his nephew back to him.
"I suppose I am strange, after all. Even my companions have seen fit to desert me. You are the only one who can still speak to me without clenched teeth. I am naught but a burden." Eladlín finished, finally voicing his concerns.
Elrond reached over and lay his hand on the child's back, "I know that my words must mean nothing, but that is not true. So much has happened in the last few days, and no one knows how to deal with it. Confronting you means confronting their fears. They will have to face reality when they speak truly with you, and they know it."
"What has happened?" he said firmly, pulling away from Elrond's touch. "If someone would at least have the decency to explain it to me.Do you see these scars? These muscles? I have earned them, I have toiled to earn my keep. I do not deserve this." He spurred Caranaur roughly and the horse spooked and flew for the protection of the woods. Elrond lingered for but a moment, reflecting on what Eladlín had said, before following him into the forest. If only he could catch him, he would tell him everything. The boy, though a child he was no longer, was right. He did not deserve his pain.
~~~~~~~~~~
Back in the city, life was also amiss. Siriondil was trying vainly to figure out what to do, and the cryptic words of Mararion were of no help. "I want to stay but it is my duty to return to my men and captain the ship back to Númenor. And I do miss the sea so." he voice faded out and he inhaled deeply. He could almost taste the salty water.
"Follow your heart." replied Mararion as he settled himself on a chair by the door.
"But that is the problem!" exclaimed Siriondil, "My heart is split, I do not know which path to follow!"
"Follow your heart." replied Mararion with a sly grin.
Siriondil turned on him, now brandishing a hot fire poker. "If you say that one more time, you may never speak again."
Mararion stood abruptly and made to leave. "I have told you once before, the advice of an elf is given rarely and should always be heeded." He turned on his heel and walked out of the room, leaving Siriondil looking rather odd indeed. The servants, who had been cleaning the room until the argument had started, looked at each other strangely. Siriondil glared at them. "Scat! Get out of here!" he yelled, waving the poker around dangerously and succeeding in injuring none but himself. As he sat down to nurse the growing blister on his hand, he glanced out the window. "What am I to do?" he asked softly.
Mararion made for Eladlín's room. It was high time the boy was readied for supper. As he approached, he found Haldamir napping in the bench near the tower. "What are you doing?" he asked as he reached over and shook him. The elf leapt awake, and pulled out his dagger before Mararion could even react. "Since when do you attack your brother?" he demanded.
"Since I have not slept in many moons." He walked away from him, his demeanor strange and wistful. "It is hard to come by these days."
Mararion softened immediately. "I know what happened in the Wild, Haldamir. You do not need to hide it from me."
Haldamir raised his arms as if to reply before they fell sadly to his side. "It was just.real. I have dreamed of her, of what could have been so many times. But this was different. I saw her, I felt her fingertips brush my face." he turned away again and started to walk out towards the stables but stopped short.
"What is it?" asked Mararion.
"Nephredil. I had forgotten, what with all the excitement and all. But she is no longer there." he turned away again and struck out for the shore. Mararion let him go, for he understood that some wounds could not be healed.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Lord Gil-galad collected himself and stood, brushing the grainy sand from his clothes.
"My, my Lord?" called Nurnon cautiously.
Gil-galad turned to face him. "I believe that I have grown weary, Nurnon."
Nurnon's expression was grave. "It is not you, sire. 'Tis your heart."
The King stared hard at Nurnon, who squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze. "Though you are young, and have yet to see battle, there is much wisdom in you, Nurnon. Do not forget that."
"Thank, thank you my Lord." he stuttered.
Gil-galad started to walk back towards the city. "Why have you roused me?" he asked.
"Elrond seeks your guidance, my Lord. And the welcoming feast grows cold." he added as his stomach grumbled involuntarily.
The elf quickened his pace. "Thank you, Nurnon. You may start the feast without me. Send Elrond to my private chambers."
"As you wish, my Lord." said Nurnon as he bowed and took off at a run for the city. Gil-galad felt a smile creep up on his face as he watched Nurnon bowl over a merchant's cart. To Nurnon, making sure the orders were completed in a timely matter were of incredible importance. The lad was strangely loyal, but that was a fine trait to have in a servant. He just had yet to prove himself in battle. For war-strewn had been Gil-galad's life, and he judged his people on their experiences.
A few minutes later, he arrived in his chamber to find Elrond already there. He was clearly anxious and pacing. As Elrond heard the door creak, he glanced up, his eyes wide. "What is it, Elrond?"
"The boy. He has gone. I took him for a ride in the woods, but he grew angry with me and left. I cannot find him."
Gil-galad did not waste time replying. He left the room with a sweep of his cape and Elrond followed on his heels. "He is somewhere in the Northern Forest. His steed is fast, and his hand is steady. I could not catch him."
By now the pair had already found their way to the stables. "Ready Hrívërámar!" he called as they walked up to the stable. One stable hand flew into the stable, but the other lingered. "What of Avadthurin, my Lord?" he asked, directing his question at Elrond, for even as he spoke the stallion thrashed at the stall door. Elrond disappeared into the barn in reply. A few moments later he reappeared, his horse almost magically calmed. Gil-galad waiting impatiently for him, and Hrívërámar, his white mare, wheeled and stamped. "Take the eastern path. I will spread the word to the west." Elrond left at once, but Gil-galad looked down at the nervous stable hand. "Go to the Great Hall and tell Nurnon to spread the word. The boy is missing." If the stable hand found this message strange, he did not comment, but left at once. Hrívërámar leapt into the woods, for although she was a seasoned mare, she was also a descendent of the Mearas, and did not tire easily.
~~~~~~~~~~
Caranaur stumbled over the undergrowth and Eladl(n pitched forward, nearly tumbling from his perch. He urged the horse on faster, but Caranaur slowed as they left the trail behind them and reached a small stream. Eladlín dismounted, ready to yell at his steed, but then he got a clear look at him. His head was down and his sides struggled to bring in enough breath. He coughed, and a shiver of pain coursed through his body. All anger was forgotten, and Eladlín immediately regretted hurting his friend. Though truly hurt was not the word, for he had nearly broken him. He walked back over to him and Caranaur made a great effort in lifting his head to greet him. Eladlín winced, for the horse's continued friendship hit him harder than the sight of his troubled breathing. "I am sorry, my friend. We will not continue until you are ready, and even then at a slower pace. We are far enough away, they will not catch us."
Caranaur swung his head back and nudged him. He had been bred to ride, and the fact that his body slowed him down was an embarrassment to him. His heart was still full of pride, and he would not fail the boy.
Eladlín laughed softly. "No Caranaur. We will rest. I am tired as well." The horse gave him a quizzical look and walked slowly over to the stream to drink. Eladlín settled himself under a large beech tree and drifted slowly off into sleep. Though he knew not where his newfound freedom would take him, he knew what he had left, and that was enough to comfort him.
~~~~~~~~~~
The stable hand broke through the doors of the Great Hall and stood panting amidst the others.
Nurnon looked at him kindly. He had been in similar circumstances frequently. "What is it?" he asked.
The stable hand looked up, "Lord Gil-galad and Elrond sent me here. They are searching the northern woods. The boy.the boy is gone."
The hall stood at once in a sudden wave of motion and noise. Mararion found his way to Siriondil and Haldamir. They both looked up at him, unsure of how to proceed. "We ride." he said shortly before sweeping out of the hall. They followed on his heels, and within a few minutes were mounted on their respective steeds. Siriondil struck off at once for the shore. He could feel it pulling at his heart constantly, and he knew that Eladlín felt it as well.
Siriondil's intuitions were right, though Eladlín did not realize where he was headed. When he awoke, he mounted the recovered Caranaur and trotted slowly down the river. He knew that it would hide their scent, and the cold water soothed Caranaur's sweaty flanks. Eventually, the river widened as it prepared to mingle with the salty seas. As the horse and rider stepped out onto the sand, it was a magnificent sight to behold. The wind whipped around them, giving life to Caranaur's mane and Eladlín's mop of hair. The horse sidestepped uncertainly, as he did not know what to do, and Eladlín tightened his grip in the horse's mane. He steered him over to the firmer sand, where the water crashed against the shore, and nudged him softly. The horse responded, his body leaping out of sand as though he intended to fly. His hindquarters gathered speed until he could travel no faster, for the confines of the world held him back. He slowed after a few minutes and returned to a walk, his desire fulfilled. Eladlín smiled. Though he had forgotten the smells and the sounds, the sea had still crashed within his heart. "I know not where our road takes us, my friend, but as long as we are near the shore, I doubt we shall be of want for happiness." Caranaur whinnied in agreement. Having been born near the shores of Edhellond, he too could appreciate the beauty of the ocean.
"Eladlín!" called Siriondil, "Eladlín!" He could see the boy's outline in the distance. The boy sighed and paused, for he knew that Tossgalenas would outrun them eventually as her legs were still fresh. 'Twas pointless to run. Siriondil nudged Tossgalenas into a gentle canter and reached Eladlín within a few minutes. "You are still here! Bless the sea."
Eladlín frowned slightly, as he did not understand Siriondil's meaning, and replied, "Not for long. My journey will take me farther north."
"Think not of where your journey takes you. Think of where your heart takes you. Would you leave those you have taken you in as their own? Mararion, who mended your clothes, lent you his horse? Haldamir, who has left his home in the mountains and nearly died to protect you?.Would you leave me?" As he spoke, the words of Mararion reverberated within him. He knew now that his heart was not spilt, but that his mind had spoken for his heart.
Eladlín's stern look faltered. Siriondil sat mounted before him, his tears glistening in the soft light of the sunset. "No. I would not leave you. I could never leave you, for you are a father to me, and I will never forget that."
Siriondil dismounted and looked up at him, "And you are more than I could have ever hoped for in a son." Eladlín dismounted as well, and embraced him firmly.
Mararion trotted out of the woods, and stopped short. He smiled broadly, for the bond between the man and the boy light a fire within his own heart. He turned and started the journey back to the city. Perhaps things were starting to go right after all. At least one of them had found the end to their journey.
~~~~~~~~~
Siriondil and Eladlín rode back to the city some time later. Mararion had informed the others of his findings, and the would-be rescuers had returned to the city, none more relieved than Elrond. He had taken responsibility for the boy's flight upon himself. It was all his fault, for he should have confided in him. But to trust a child with everything he had to tell.he did not know how Eladlín would be able to handle it. Yet somewhere within him he understood that Eladlín was not an ordinary boy, and he knew that he was underestimating him. As the pair rode into the stable's courtyard, he alone stepped forward from the others. Gil-galad lurked back in the shadows, his look hard and approving. He knew what strength it took to reveal the truth, and he was proud of Elrond. He had taught him well, but that was all he could do. It was not up to him, it was Elrond's decision, for it concerned his kin.
Siriondil nudged Eladlín gently. He whipped around, his eyes large and frightened. "What am I to do?" he asked quietly.
Siriondil smiled down at him, "Go to him. Though you do not know it yet, your heart leads you there."
"My heart leads me here." he replied, his stubbornness taking over his fear. He knew that Siriondil was sending him on alone, but he did not feel ready to leave his protection.
Siriondil's expression did not change as he stood motionless. Eladlín glanced between him and Elrond several times before he made his decision. He strode out into the courtyard and faced Elrond. "What is it that you wish to tell me?"
"Many things, some of which you will not want to hear, and some of which you will not understand. But I shall tell you regardless." He walked out into the darkness, but Eladlín faltered again. He looked back at Siriondil, who still stood alone and quiet. He hesitated and followed Elrond out into the darkness.
As Eladlín left the circle of light, Siriondil's worn heart finally broke. He knew that he had done the right thing by sending the boy on, but it was difficult nonetheless. Things would never be the same between them, for Eladlín would grow to love the elvish ways of Elrond, and eventually their connection would break. But such was the way of the world, and Siriondil was happy for the time that he had had. He walked away from the others, for their piteous looks were unbearable.
~~~~~~~~
Eladlín loped after Elrond, whose pace was swifter than usual. Suddenly he stopped and Eladlín almost bowled into him. "Where are we?" the boy asked quietly, for his awe consumed his senses. A large moonlit lake spread out before them, white rocks reflecting the soft light of the moon. Moss curled down over the banks, but the grass was shorn and thick.
Elrond seated himself on one of the larger rocks and Eladlín sat beside him. It took a few moments before he felt ready to reply, but reply he did. "I myself have not been here in many moons. This is the place where I last saw my brother." He registered the boy's surprise, and continued, "Yes, it seems strange, does it not? Even to me it does not make sense, though I have tried to sort it out many times. I suppose I should begin my journey with the leaving of my mother. When I was but a young child, a great war was waged near the tower where I lived. My mother bundled up my brother and I and snuck us out the rear entrance as the troops approached our home. We fled to the protection of the woods, and it was not until much later that I found out what had happened to my parents. As the war waged before her, my mother fled to the topmost floor of the tower. She leaned out of the window a Simaril in her hands. That stone was what caused the war in the first place, as it was the most beautiful stone ever seen in Middle-Earth. As she leaned out of the window, she wished for one last stroke of good fortune. She fell from the sill, but rather than go crashing to her death, she floated away. Ulmo, Vala of the Seas, had seen fit to turn her into a swan, and she flew gracefully away, on a journey to find my father. He was sailing the seas, looking for his parents and Valinor, among the other passions that ruled his troubled mind. Together they found Valinor and pleaded to the Gods to help defeat Morgoth, the evil Vala who had begun the war in the first place. After he was defeated, my father's ship was sent to the heavens to scan for his return, while my mother remained in Valinor and learned the speech and flight of birds, so she could fly to greet my father when his great journey brought them close."
"Papa told me that story once. I thought it very beautiful then, as I do now. But what of you and your brother?"
"Patience, young one. We were found by the enemy, the elves who were possessed with an obsession to find the Simarils. The one who found us, Maglor, took pity on us and released us to the care of Lord Gil-galad and he took us in. We remained with him until the time came for my brother and I to make our decisions. We chose to live separate lives, and I have not seen him since that fateful night."
"But why did you have to choose to live apart? Why could you not live happily together?"
"My life is both a blessing and a curse, Eladlín. My mother and father were both of the half-elven, meaning that each had a parent of elvish and human descent. As such they were given the power to choose their destiny. They could choose to have the immortality of the elves or the fleeting life of men. Both of them chose the elvish manner, but my brother and I were faced with same choice, and he chose mortality. I did not, and our parting was swift and bitter, for both of us believed that the other had chosen the wrong path. When I see you and your vivacity for life, I am reminded of myself as a child. That is why your father sent you to me, Eladlín. For your father is none other than my brother."
Eladlín backed slowly away from him. "You speak falsely." he muttered, his mind not wanting to believe what he had heard.
"I assure you, I do not. I am Elrond, and my brother is Elros. We were both named for the cave and the spray of the waterfall where we were found when Maglor discovered us."
Eladlín shook his head in disbelief, but the stern gaze of Elrond clearly showed that the elf spoke the truth. After a few minutes of silence, Eladlín looked up, "Why did my father choose that path?"
"I wish I knew, for if I did our parting would have been friendly, and there would be naught but good memories."
"May I?"
Elrond looked away for he had known that that question would come eventually, but it did not make it any easier to answer. "I do not believe so. Elros and I were both truly half-elven, but you are not, for your mother is of the race of men."
Tears of anger sprang to Eladlín's eyes. "I hate him!" he yelled, "It was always him who made me participate in those awful hunting trips, who made the decision to move to Numenor," He paused and looked away, "who made me a man." He stood and turned away from Elrond. "I must leave you now, but I thank you for telling me the truth."
"No." said Elrond calmly, "You cannot leave yet for I am not finished. I forewarned you that you would not want to hear much of what I had to tell you. Have you ever heard the tale of the Last Elf?"
Eladlín hesitated before he turned, finally realizing that Elrond would be able to understand his tears. "Yes."
"It is a tale that has brought comfort to me many times. Although he dragged you away from your destiny, Elros also deserted me. Can you understand what that feels like? Of course not, as I cannot fully understand your anger. But remember what you learned from the Last Elf. Never let your anger overpower your emotions. Consider the words of your mind before you act on your heart. It will not always lead you right. Though it seems like Elros did you a great wrongdoing, remember that he was trying to find a better life for you. He tried to give you everything he thought you wanted. And his way of apologizing was to send you to me. Though you may not have the longevity of elves in your blood, you are among us now and we will treat you as such."
Eladlín lifted his tear-stained face to Elrond, whose face glowed a pale white from the gentle moonlight. Though he held back his tears, for he no longer had tears to weep with, his face was creased with lines of sorrow. "I am sorry for your pain." he said at long last.
"As I am for your's." replied Elrond. When Elrond refused to elaborate, Eladlín fled from the lake. It held too many memories for him to linger any longer. Elrond watched him go, knowing that he had done the right thing but.now the boy would be haunted with the image of "What if?" It unsettled his soul, and he set out with his own journey to complete.
Eladlín halted in chilling white of the moonlight. Without knowing it, his heart had taken him to the sea. He fell to his knees, his fists clenched tightly. He knew now that his journey had been his father's way of making amends, but it did not soothe the frustration that rose in his heart. He sank backwards on the beach, his body so consumed with feelings that it physically drained him. His mind argued between betrayal, anger, sorrow, understanding, and yet, through it all, hope. Hope that Siriondil would stay with him, hope that Elrond would keep to his word, and above all, hope that Elrond was wrong about his future. He did not feel fit in a mortal body, and even as he looked at his outstretched hand, he wished for something more. This life should not have been his to live, the choice had been wrongly made. He looked out over the ocean, knowing that somewhere out there was his father. "It's not fair," he sobbed quietly, "It should have been my choice as well." A small crunching noise on the beach made him look up, and what he saw took his breath away. A magnificent white stag strode openly across the beach, its ivory hooves sinking in the soft sand. As it reached the waning tide, it heaved a great sigh and turned to look at Eladlín, who lay bewildered in sand. He turned away, hoping that it would ignore him and carry on its business.
"I know what it is you desire." said a voice inside his head. "I can see your thoughts and dreams."
He looked back as the stag strode towards him. But even as he did, it changed swiftly from a stag to a beautiful woman. And yet, at the same time, Eladlín realized that she was not a woman. Her beauty surpassed that of any she had ever seen, her flowing hair more golden then the sun, her face the very definition of elegance and grace. Flowers sprung up in her wake, as though her very footsteps were the salt of the earth. Her eyes shown a luminous blue. She wore a tightly fitted white gown, hemmed with the silvery shimmer of dew, and made of a fabric lighter and more beautiful than any ever seen on Middle-Earth.
"Who.who are you?" stuttered Eladlín, at a complete loss for words.
She laughed, a glowing, sparkling sound. "I am V(na the Ever-Young, wife of Orom( and a Queen of the Valar."
He nodded slowly, understanding and yet disbelieving at the same time. "Why have you come here? What of your own land?"
"I have come to speak with you, for you are a descendent of Elwing, or Ninqualqua, as she is known among my people. She has watched you from afar since you were a babe, and she has asked me to bequeath you one wish. She is one of my truest companions, and her favor I will grant freely. Speak wisely, for you may not change your mind. It must be a wish true of heart, for my powers alone will not grant it. What is it you desire?"
Eladlín did not reply immediately, for her understood the graveness in her voice. Her coming to the shores of Middle-Earth was not a trival matter, and he could not answer her without searching deep within himself. As the silence wavered between them, the strength of her beauty seemed to grow, for she herself had searched deep within the boy and found him to her approval. At long last, he looked back up at her. "Have you made your choice?"
"Yes, milady. I wish to become an elf."
Her smile broadened. Ninqualqua, though V(na had doubted her, had been right. Inside the child was a heart of gold, uncorrupted by the world around him. When he could have asked for the all the riches in the world, the fastest steed, the most beautiful castle, he had chosen that which he knew above all else would make him truly happy. "Kneel before me, Eladlín son of Elros." He did so obediently and looked to the ground. She strode the last few steps until she stood fully in front of him and laid one pearl- white finger on his forehead. Suddenly she was gone, and Eladlín would have thought it all a dream if not for the white flowers wilting in the sand. He raised his hand to his ear and traced the pointed leaf pattern. His hand unfolded in front of him, no longer with the chunkiness of a man, but with the slender beauty of an elf. He rose to his feet and his vision sharpened immediately as he discerned gulls playing in the tide pools a few miles down the shore. His hearing was also keener, and he heard footsteps approach him from behind. A ragged Elrond approached him, knowing nothing of what had just passed. At first his gaze lingered on the dying flowers, which without their maiden's beauty perished quickly in the desert of the beach, but then his gaze shifted to Eladlín. The boy had changed subtlety. Most striking of was the grin spread across his face, but that was not it. Something had happened, but he did not understand what. At long last they faced one another, and it was then that Elrond saw the gentle curve of his ear. He froze, not wanting to believe it, and slowly raised one hand to stroke the boy, as though he could not believe it without touching it himself. As his hand fell back, something seized him, and he flung his arms unexpectedly around Eladlín's shoulders. His sorrow and pity forgotten, Eladlín returned his embrace, knowing that his change had mended the loneliness in Elrond's heart.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Mararion readied Midheiliant. The companions had decided to partake on one last ride up the shore before they parted ways. Mararion and Haldamir were destined for the townships of the Noldor in the North, while Radagast had his own business to attend to in the forest. Siriondil and Eladlín were to remain in Mithlond, for Siriondil could not part with Eladlín, nor could Eladlín leave what remained of his family. They mounted as one and struck off for the shoreline. Eladlín sat astride Caranaur, and Siriondil was on Tossgalenas. Haldamir and Radagast were mounted on steeds of the deepest bay coloring. They were gifts from the court of Lord Gil-galad, as their own steeds had perished en route to Mithlond. Mith(l followed slowly behind. Even though there was no baggage for her to carry and her wounds had yet to heal, she would not be left behind. A laughing Mararion had released her from her stall and she followed them resolutely. "She is a stubborn beast." he remarked.
The tone of their outing was light, but with a serious undertone. Each knew that this may well be the last time they saw each other. "Even though we will not have to worry about losing you to the perils of old age!" joked Haldamir as he nudged the lad. Eladlín blushed and looked away. Since his change, the others had not treated him different outwardly, but he knew that deep within himself he now shared a kinship with Haldamir and Mararion.
Radagast smiled, his wizened face reflecting his happiness. His decision to go with them had been right after all. His influence had given Mararion the confidence to lead the others, and together they made it through the perilous wild. Though pressing business now lead him away, he knew that the small part he had played had indeed influenced the outcome of the journey.
Caranaur reared, his fiery legs kicking out in front of him. He bounded out a few steps in front of the others and turned to face them, as if challenging them to follow. Midheiliant responded, oblivious to the heading of Mararion. The others followed suit, and before long the five companions galloped as one down the beach. Mith(l limped silently behind, for she was content just to know the others were there; racing had never been in her blood. Suddenly, Caranaur spooked. He pawed nervously at the ground and sidestepped into Tossgalenas, who bucked in response. Mararion sat up and let his keen senses take over as his body struggled to contain his own steed.
But Eladlín beat him to it. "There, in the thicket!" he cried, pointing to the edge of the woods as he urged Caranaur on. The pair flew across the sand as Eladlín urged the fiery little chestnut on. Haldamir followed close on his heels, but with so little weight on his back, Caranaur started to pull away. "Eladlín!" called Mararion, "Stop! You know not what lies there!"
Eladlín ignored his words and rode until he reached the mysterious figure. As he dismounted, a weak wicker reached his ears, and he pulled back the thorns to find an injured Mânêl standing guard over Vinyayáviëiel, the elf from Edhellond. She looked up at Eladlín, her face a deathly pale. "I must find Mararion." she whispered as she collapsed on the ground.
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And even more housekeeping notes.
Mearas: the strain of horses that Shadowfax belonged to. The greatest of the Horse "breeds", they were often thought of as the Lords of Horses and were thought to have been brought to Middle-Earth by the Valar.
Hrívërámar: Quenya for Winter's Wings, literally
Avadthurin: Sindarian for Secret Reluctance. *looks at all the reviewers rolling their eyes*.Ok, well I found it funny.
Wow, I'm really mean, aren't I? Yes, I know what a horrible ending that was..but hopefully my next chapter should be up faster, so don't get too mad at me. Thanks for all the reviews, everyone!!!