By: Calypso
Summary: Elrond, Lord of Rivendell, is a hero amongst heroes. But he is also a husband plagued by heartache and a father capable of seeing into the deepest corners of his children's hearts. Can it be their darkness he sees -or his own? incestuous/slashy undertones
Disclaimer: Honey, if I owned it I'd be in a nice relaxing spa some where. Not stressing out over someone else's kid. I ain't making money, by writing this I ain't depriving noone o' nothing. (Well, except maybe my chem professor of the homework assignment she wants in by tomorrow.) Still, I make no profit, don't you DARE sue me.
Archive: Never without my permission; and if you do I'll put a gypsy impotence
curse on you!
~ ~ ~
"What other dungeon is so dark as one's own heart! What jailer so inexorable as one's own self!"
- Nathaniel Hawthorne.
The House of Seven Gables
Incest.
It is a word from the world of men. A word of shame for which there is no elven equivalent. A sin that is supposed to exist only in the hearts of men.
Yet I, the infallible Lord of Rivendell, am guilty of nurturing such sin. Guilty beyond all recourse, guilty so that I cannot allow myself to feel as I once did, guilty so that I cannot look my own children in the eye.
My daughter has given her heart to a son I raised as my own.
My sons depend upon each other beyond all reason.
These are the children I have raised.
These are the sins I have taught them.
So have I failed Celebrian; so have I failed as husband and as father.
For my folly Arwen will die a mortal woman.
For my folly Elladan and Elrohir will never trust to any but each other. Never love anyone but each other.
Dear Valar, what have I done?
Did I mourn too long for the living dead? For she who is dearest to my heart? Did I teach my sons to fear love by allowing her broken spirit to break mine as well?
My sons from birth they were unnaturally close; but Celebrian taught me to have patience, to let children grow and become men as time bid them.
But then she was gone, and I saw too late that brotherly love had become more than just affection. It had become so that each was the other's crutch; that without one the other could not - and would not - survive.
Such interdependence goes beyond the bond of brothers, and already I see it seeping from them.
Already, I see what they cannot.
Already, I know what will come of Elladan's dark passions.
Already, I sense what will happen when Elrohir comprehends his own inability to trust.
My twins who, like day and night, are too closely bound to ever become wholly separate. My darling sons who have suffered too much from the burden that Celebrian and I must bear.
But we are not the only ones who suffer.
I know that Arwen hurts too.
Though she hides it well the years that have passed in her mothers absence have not been as kind as she wishes me to think they've been.
The tears she has shed are not so sparse as she thinks I believe them to be.
My dear youngest daughter - how unkind your fate will be.
How truly unkind I have been to you. You, who saw the coldness within me when you most needed its warmth.
My dearest Arwen... may Valar be praised that Aragorn's viens flow heavy with human blood blood that is your blessing and your curse.
Humans such short lives they lead. Aragorn has grown from infant to man in less than a century.
Likely, he will not live to see the passing another.
The shortness of his life will be Arwen's most desperate pain.
Yet it is that very brevity that allows me to give my blessing to their union; for they have both forgotten:
Aragorn was raised as my son; he is in spirit her brother.
They also forget that he is the blood of Elros; that Aragorn is a descendent of my brother.
If his human blood did not flow so strong; theirs would be a sin twice over.
Elladan, Elrohir, Arwen, Aragorn.
Blood of my blood.
They trust their hearts only to each other; they comprehend and master only the most basic and the most natural tenderness.
I understand now.
It is clear to me.
My folly.
For in teaching my children to be strong, I have forgotten to teach them to love.
I have forgotten to give them the greatest strength of all.
Thus the blood of my blood, must suffer sins begotten from my sin.
The sin of abandoment... of neglect.
My children how I have wronged you.
~ Fini ~
Caresses, expressions of one sort or another, are necessary to the life of
the affections as leaves are to the life of a tree. If they are wholly restrained,
love will die at the roots.
- Nathaniel Hawthorne
AN: This story kind of wrote itself; I'm in one of those moods and felt like something darker than usual.
What do you think? Slash isn't usually my thing; I'm ok with reading but I'm uncomfortable writing it. I've always wondered how Elrond thinks of his family; I guess this was my way of trying to get into his head.
Aditional note: Thank you to Arachnae, AfterEver, and Eirtrie for pointing out my errors. I have corrected the spelling mistakes. However I would like to point one or two things out: The first is that this fic takes place before Aragorn dies - Elrond has no way of knowing that Aragorn will live for more than two centuries. I know he can sort of see into the future but hey - I'm the author, give me a little leway :P.
Also, about the Arwen/Aragorn not being siblings thing. I'm going to defend myself even though I really shouldn't (cuz the first cousin thing COMPLETELY blindsided me) however, I'm going to defend the sibling thing since my fanfic = my opinion. Elrond is six thousand years old. Twenty years in passing isn't that much time to him. He raised both Arwen and Aragorn (albiet at different times) to him they are siblings in spirit even if they didn't meet until Aragorn was fully grown. Also, this is sort of "I'm blaming myself for everything that went wrong" moment... he's not supposed to be all that logical.
10-25: Spelling edit and Addition Note added.