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Return to Valinor
by DLR 2003

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'The Doom of the World,' they said, 'One alone can change who made it. And were you so to voyage that escaping all deceits and snares you came indeed to Aman, the Blessed Realm, little would it profit you. For it is not the land of Manwë that makes its people deathless, but the Deathless that dwell therein have hallowed the land; and there you would but wither and grow weary the sooner, as moths in a light too strong and steadfast.'
J.R.R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion, Akallabêth

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Chapter Eleven

Elrond reached out his hand and gently closed the hobbit's eyelids.  He sighed.  "I am sorry, Frodo, truly I am."

Frodo brushed away his tears, but they persisted in flowing.  "He was very, very old for a hobbit."

"Indeed he was."  Elrond placed his hand on Frodo's shoulder.  "He had a long and happy life, with an extra ten years here in Aman due to his healing in Lórien that he may not have had in Middle-earth.   He died peacefully, it was time."

"What happens now?"  Frodo asked.  "Do we bury him, or do we have a funeral pyre?"

"The elvish way would be to bury him," Elrond responded.  "But you may follow the customs of your own kind."

"We will bury him then.  May it be here close to me?"

"Of course.  There actually is a grave-site on the grounds, although not much used and unkempt."

"I wish to be able to walk to it . . . to visit him and talk to him."

Elrond's eyes glistened.  "And so you shall, my dear hobbit, so you shall."

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"Ada?"

Elrond looked up.  "Elanna?  It is late, why are you not asleep?"

The black-haired young girl stepped out of the shadows.  "May I sit with you?"

Culurien held out her arms.  "Certainly."  Her little daughter snuggled gratefully into her lap.  Elrond reached out to stroke her hair as they watched the flames dance amongst the logs in the stone hearth before them.

"Nana?"

Culurien sighed.  "You as well, Tithen-iôn?"  Elethîr smiled shyly and found a place on his father's lap.  There was a long silence while Elrond waited patiently for his children to speak.

"Ada?"

"Yes, Elanna?"

"What has happened to Bilbo?  Why can we not see him anymore?"

"Bilbo was mortal and mortals age and die eventually.  When they die, the life leaves their bodies and they are no more."

Elethîr twisted a button on Elrond's shirt.  "Ada?"

"Yes, Elethîr?"

"Will I die?  Like Bilbo?"

Elrond hugged his son tightly.  "Nay, you are an elf, therefore you are immortal.  You will not grow old and die."

"Ada?"

"Yes, Elanna?"

"Will Frodo die?"

"Yes dearest, he will age and die in time, but that will not happen for many, many years."

"Ada?"

"Yes, Elethîr?"

"Herenion told me his Ada died and he is an elf."

Elrond exchanged a quick glance with Culurien and ran his long fingers through his son's hair, combing out the unruly plaits.  "Herenion is correct.  His Ada did die; he was killed on a battlefield by a powerful Enemy.  So even though an elf does not age and die like a mortal, he may still be slain.  If this happens his spirit stays in a hall of waiting for a time and is then reborn.  This is what happened to Herenion's Ada."

Elanna looked at him with wide eyes.  "Have you ever been slain, Ada?"

Elrond chuckled.  "Nay, dearest.  I still inhabit the same old tired body I was born with, several millennia ago."

Culurien raised an eyebrow.  "Tired, you say?  However many times you may say that, I have yet to witness any fatigue in you, ever."

Elrond winked at her with a smirk.  "I am tired, truly.  In fact, it is my wish to retire to our bedchamber as soon as possible."

Culurien reached out a hand and traced the edge of his ear.  "Assist me in returning them to their beds?"

Elrond kissed her finger.  "By all means."

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He stood on the balcony outside their chamber and gazed at the stars.  She came up behind him, her arms encircling his waist, her head resting against his back.

Elrond sighed.  "More than ten years now, we have been in Aman and I still have not sought him out; something holds me back, although I am not certain what."  

Culurien made a guess. "You speak of Eärendil?" 

"Indeed," Elrond admitted.  "In essence, it is the one hurt that remains unhealed and in my mind it is a minor one, there are so many more important issues at hand."  He paused. "In my heart though, it carries a different weight."

"You are in a changeable mood tonight, Hervenn.  Why do you think of this now?"

"All this talk of mortality, I suppose, and of fathers and children." 

Her arms tightened around his waist.  "And why have you not sought him out?  Can you voice your doubts?"

"Recently I have been pondering this, searching my feelings."  His words faltered and fell into a whisper as his gaze remained fixed on Vingilot.  "Perhaps I am afraid to hear his answers.  Why were we so unimportant to him while he still walked among us?  If he can depart from his celestial path to slay a dragon, why can he not show me a small sign as well?"  Elrond sighed.  "I fear it is because he cares not."

Culurien pulled his shirt loose from the waistband of his breeches.  "Perhaps it would be easier to speak of this with your mother first."  She reached her hands beneath the garment and ran her fingers across his abdomen.

"That is an idea worth considering," he admitted.

Her hands crept lower, intruding under his clothing, caressing the soft hair they encountered.

Elrond's breath deepened.  "You would not be attempting to distract me from my dark thoughts, would you, Lady?"

"Indeed," she murmured into his back.  "A very astute guess."  Her nimble fingers opened buttons her eyes could not see and her hand moved to caress his buttocks, reaching further between his legs as he shifted his stance to give her access.

Elrond began to divest himself of his shirt, opening fastenings.

"Stay," she admonished him.  "I am in command here; you are not allowed to do anything without permission."

"Are you indeed?  I await your orders, then."  He submitted to her ministrations with a smile.  She was still behind him some time later as she pulled down his breeches with a swift tug.  Her hands moved to the front of his hips once more, touching him slowly, exploring everywhere except the one place where he ached to be touched.

Elrond started to pant.  "Ai, Linariel, you tease me so."

"Are you not enjoying this?"

His voice was beginning to grow hoarse.  "Yes . . . oh, yes . . . please . . ."

She moved to stand before him and pushed his shirt down from his shoulders, all of him now exposed to her appreciative gaze.  She ran a light finger from the tip of his nose all the way down to the tip of his arousal and he shivered, despite the hot bursts of sensation in his chest and his loins.

Culurien leaned forward and kissed his lips long and sensuously.  "Have I ever told you how much I love your tired old body?"  She lowered her head and her tongue twirled around one of his nipples while her fingers pinched the other.  He moaned and his hands traveled through her golden-red hair, caressing her neck and ears.

She backed a step away from him with a wicked smile.  "Stay now, did I say you could touch me?"

"Ah, you are too fond of games this night, Lady.  You do not wish for my touch?"

"I will decide when and where I wish it," she replied as she caught his wandering hand and opening her robe, guided it between her legs.  She and Elrond both gasped as his fingers made contact with her heated flesh.  He regarded her with smoldering narrowed eyes as he probed and tickled her, watching her face flush as he found her sensitive spot, sending her soaring over the edge rapidly.  Her knees buckled as waves of passion coursed through her, his arm catching her as she staggered and groaned out a small whimper.

"Enough of this game," he whispered with intensity, picking her up and carrying her to the bed.  "I am in command now."  He pushed her robe aside, parted her legs and drove into her with force. He abandoned all self control, taking her roughly as her fingernails dug into his back

"Ai, Mellhîr!"  Her muscles contracted around him as another spasm quaked through her body, her consciousness very nearly descending into sparkling darkness.

Elrond moaned as her heat engulfed him and the aching pressure became unbearable, his every movement increasing the delicious agony of his need.  It was impossible to delay much longer and his eyelids closed as the ecstasy reached its mind-numbing peak.  With a final deep stroke, he also sank at last into a near oblivious release of passion and rested against her, gasping for breath.

He opened his eyes and held her gaze for a long moment.

Culurien touched his flushed cheek with her finger.  "Yes?  What is it?"

A slow smile spread across his face.  "I was just wondering . . ."

"Yes?"

"Perchance you might be of assistance in distracting me from black thoughts tomorrow night as well?"

Culurien raised an eyebrow and chuckled.  "As you wish, Lord."

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Elrond poured Ereinion a glass of wine.  "Thank you for coming, Frodo will appreciate it."

"Tis the least I can do, truly."  Ereinion sipped his drink and placed the goblet on the table, twisting the stem with his fingers.  "I had many a chat with the old fellow during my visits here the last few years.  His interest in lore rivaled only your own."

"Indeed," said Elrond.  "We had much in common in that respect."  He raised his glass.  "Rîn ned Bilbo."*

"Rîn ned Bilbo," Ereinion echoed solemnly.

There was a discreet knock on the door and it opened to reveal Lindir's smiling face.  "A new arrival, Lord."

Elrond rose to his feet.  "Mithrandir!"  The Maia held up his hand.  Elrond smiled.  "Yes, yes, I know.  Olórin."

"Well, well, what are we drinking here, have you no gwiluvor?"

"Ah . . . nay."  Elrond grimaced.  "I find I am unable to develop a taste for it."

Ereinion took a sip of his wine.  "I cannot abide the concoction myself, nasty it is."

Olórin snorted.  "You lack a discerning palate.  Tis not a fault of yours, it is truly a taste born of Aman."

The two elves of Middle-earth looked at each other in amusement.  "Aman is welcome to it," Ereinion said under his breath as Elrond hid a smile.

Olórin accepted the goblet of wine Elrond offered him with a sigh.  "A sad occasion."

"Indeed yes," said Elrond, becoming serious once more.  "Frodo will be glad of your presence."

"How is he adjusting?"

"It was not unexpected, naturally, so he is quite calm.  He stays busy organizing Bilbo's writings."  Elrond poured out more wine.  "I fear for him, though.  It would be very easy for him to become lost and shrink away within himself."

"Suppose he returned to Middle-earth?" Ereinion suggested.

Olórin ran a finger around the rim of his glass.  "He cannot, his pain would return."

"You know this?"

The Maia nodded.

Elrond acquiesced.    "I can see that as well, that will not be his path, even should the Valar allow it, which is doubtful."

There was silence for a moment while they enjoyed the fruit of the local grape harvest.

Olórin turned to Elrond.  "I have been remiss.  Pardon my bad manners, please.  How is your fine family?"

Elrond sighed.  "The children are upset, of course.  As much as I have tried to explain it to them, I feel they are too young to fully comprehend."

"My offspring may be of assistance there."  Ereinion drained his glass.  "A child's perspective, you know."

"Indeed, thank you for bringing them."  Elrond reached for a fresh bottle and winked.  "Although I have already had to field awkward questions as to why Herenion's father could die when he was an immortal elf."  He sliced the seal open with a small knife.  "The finality of mortality carries much less weight when it does not apply to everyone."

Olórin rose.  "I thank you for the refreshment, by your leave I will seek out Frodo and sit with him."

Elrond rose as well and embraced him.  "Take this with you," he said, handing him the bottle of wine.  "Drink to Bilbo in our behalf."

Olórin returned his embrace.  "Indeed we will."

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Elrond solemnly closed the small book in his hand and beckoned to the two elves standing to the side, shovels in their hands.  He gave the volume to Frodo.  "You may find comfort in these pages in the days to come."

The hobbit seemed numb, staring at the grave but unseeing, silent tears coursing down his face. 

Elanna stood at his side with her arm around him.  "Please do not cry, Frodo dear."  She reached up a small hand to pat his hair.

Elethîr encircled the hobbit's waist with his arm as well and laid his head on Frodo's shoulder.  "Perhaps if we try to think of something cheerful."

Frodo shook his head and looked up at the many concerned faces that surrounded him.  He took a deep breath.  "You have all been very kind, I thank you.  May I just be here alone with him for a while?"

Elanna was dismayed.  "You wish to sit here and cry by yourself?  That does not seem good."

Elrond smiled with understanding and knelt before his daughter.  He gently pulled her away from Frodo into his arms.  He stood, and collecting the eyes of the other elves, led the way down the hillside, back to the house.

"Ada, you cannot leave Frodo alone like that, he is too sad."

"There are times, Tithen-sell, when one needs to be sad and this is such a time for Frodo, you must allow him his sadness for a while.  We call it a period of mourning, during which he will adjust himself to his loss."

Elanna was subdued, looking back over her father's shoulder at the lonely figure standing on the hill.  Her arms tightened around his neck and she laid her head down and wept with Frodo.

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* Remembrance of Bilbo.