Mirax: Um, well, let's see what you think of Elrond after this. I didn't like how they changed Elrond, either. But. . . .
Steph-h: Hold your horses. It's coming.
KatAleson: I thought about having an Aragorn flashback. Can't remember why I threw it out. As for the songfic thing *shrugs* Is there a specific formula for it? I know some of the dialogue stinks. It's hard to go from emotions to dialogue, and that was as good as I could get it without agonizing over it for weeks. *g* Dialogue should be better here. I know all about some of the really bad fanfics on this site. But I won't go into that or I might say something I regret. The good news is that for all the bad stuff, there's a few nuggets of gold if you look hard enough.
Celebroch: I'm glad my emotions meet with your approval. *g* I hope you enjoy this chappie too. Thanks; I don't write poetry all that often, so I'm glad it doesn't stink.
Grumpy: *smiles jauntily* I keep forgetting where I am on this story. But there's more on what Elrond wants in here. I'm glad you're loving it.
Taraisilwen: Thank you. *smiles brilliantly* You made my day. I try to go for real, because the realer it is, the bigger impact it has. At least, I think so.
Now, onto the next chapter. This one is even almost a decent length. Hehe. Have fun. Enjoy. Review. And I'll see you all next chapter. *smiles*
Let's Talk About Love
Aragorn blinked. In that flicker of an eye, that brief moment in time, all emotion was wiped from the human's face, leaving nothing behind. "What of her?" he asked.
Neither twin spoke, momentarily thrown by the callousness of the question. Elladan recovered first. "She seeks the Undying Lands."
"This is your news?" demanded the king, voice hard before he turned away. "Your haste was wasted."
"She seeks it for a broken heart," Elrohir continued, watching as the man moved away from them and paused by a couch, low-set and plain. Neither could see his face. "Long has she waited to be by your side, to take your hand in matromony and so proclaim your love to all the free peoples of Middle-earth. Her heart breaks that all was in vain, that all of your and her suffering has gone for naught. It breaks for you."
"I have made my decision," countered Aragorn, his tone unchanged, and had the twins not konw the situation and the human so well they might have thought it final.
Instead, Elladan stepped forward. "No, you have made Father's decision."
Aragorn still did not face them, and the twins tried desperately to guage the one they called brother through his body language and found themselves thwarted. Whatever he had learned in their long years apart, or unlearned, he had mastered his body and hid his feelings well. They could make no headway in his feelings.
Finally, the man sighed and turned to face them, weariness and an age he had not previously borne written over every inch of his face, held in the very depths of his soul and glimpsed in his eyes. "Father's decision is the right one," he said. "I cannot give her what she deserves. I am doomed to leave her alone and heartbroken. That is a thought I cannot bear."
"It is not yours alone to bear," Elrohir denied. "What of Arwen? What of her desires? What of her happiness?"
Aragorn did not reply immediately, his face set, his eyes staring blankly somewhere past them as if watching something they could not see. "She denies that her heart would break. She does not understand the fate she chooses."
"Is it so difficult to think she would love you? Would you not bear anything for her?"
A slightly trembling hand came up and covered his mouth, only to be removed a moment later, the man once again composed. "There is nothing to bear," he said flatly.
"Estel!" Elladan cried out in frustration. "You do not have to pretend with us! We know how you feel. It does no good to deny it."
"What would you have me say?" burst Aragorn, anger flaring in his listless gaze. "Tell you my heart burns at her absense? That I cannot go a day, nay a minute without thinking of her, her laugh, her smile, her eyes, her voice? That I can scarce breathe knowing she shall never be by my side? That I die a little bit inside for every moment that we are apart?" The mad declarations dwindled to a hoarse whisper, rough with pain. " That hope is lost without her? Nay, brother, I must hide it. Even from you. To do otherwise would destroy me."
"It already destorys you," Elrohir offered softly, pain wracking his voice. "Arwen would not--"
"Why do you torment me?" Aragorn cried sharply in dismay, pain twisting his words, choking them. "Why must you speak of the one thing I have been trying all these years to bury, to forget; the one think that would take the heart of me? Why can't you leave me alone in my pain?"
"You have been alone too long," Elrohir answered quietly.
"It is all I can bear," Aragorn insisted. "It is all I have strength for. I have no hope. Let me be."
"We do not want to torment you, little brother. We want to help you."
The human went very still, seeming to not even breath, and longing flared briefly in his eyes. Then it was gone and Aragorn shook his head. "You cannot help me." He turned away and sank down onto the couch then dropped his head into his hands as if he no longer had the strength nor will to hold it up. Mayhap he did not.
Elladan followed him and sank down beside the human; his hand rested on his back. "You will not let us."
"There is nothing you can do."
He removed the hand and reached into his robes. "Then maybe Father can help." He held an envelope over the human's shoulder and waited for him to take it. Slowly, the man did.
A hesitant hand came up and snagged the paper. Aragorn turned it in his hands as if it would break, eyes avidly taking in the flowing script of Elrond on the front that spelled his name. Then he broke the seal and eased the folded paper from its envelope. The twins waited with baited breath as he read.
Dearest Estel,
Long has it been since I could address you thus, yet I can think of no way more fitting to ask your forgiveness: as a father of a son. I have wronged you more than words could possibly tell. It hurts more than I can say to know I am the cause of your pain, that it has been born through me.
It is for that that I must beg your forgiveness now, knowing I do not deserve it. My son, forgive me your pain and know I never wished it, that my heart shuddered everytime I thought of what I asked of you. But my fear of losing Arwen was greater and I could not stop myself. Never in all my long years did I think you would deny her hand once it was held out for you, yet I feel I should have known. You were ever a son I was proud to call my own, always more concerned with the happiness of others than your own.
I wish I had your strength, my son. I wish I could have denied my own pain and spared you your misery. I see too clearly now what I have done and I cannot bear it. Faced with my final journey, I find I cannot pass with this undone.
Ever were you and Arwen meant to be. So much can I see now that time is almost done. My words have done such harm! But I would take them back if I could. I would erase them from your mind if such was within my power. But I cannot.
I was prepared, once, to offer you Arwen's hand. I would do it again without my hurtful words to cloud your judgement. If you love her still, I bid you ride for the havens with all haste and claim her hand. She will not heed my words where you are concerned, her heart too burdened with sorrow to be swayed by another's word. She can only be swayed by the one who holds her heart.
Ride hard, my son, and claim what I should never have denied.
With love always,
Elrond
Elladan watched as tears sparkled in Aragorn's eyes and gathered to drip slowly down his cheeks unheeded. He moved closer and gripped his brother's forearm, squeezing gently in support. At the touch, the man looked up, the pain in his eyes nearer the surface yet not so deep. "Will you ride?" he asked, his eyes sympathetic yet intent.
"She would have me?" Aragorn asked instead, looking more like a child than he had in decades, vulnerable.
Elrohir stepped forward and dropped to his knees, drawing Aragorn's gaze. "She would, but you shall have to convince her that you love her still. Too well did you play your game for wounded heart to see the pain pain has caused.
The man nodded slowly. "Then I will ride."
Ere the passing of the morn, three riders departed the city in great haste.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Elrond stood on his balcony overlooking the road, Vilya glinting with the light that hit it as it edged past the trees, a beacon to draw others near. Blue eyes watched the only path intently, desperate to see the ones he knew could not reach him yet. Gondor was too far.
Light footsteps approached, more an impression than anything tangilble, but it was enough and Elrond turned to look into clear blue eyes that pierced his thoughts and a face as radiant as the sun. "My Lady," he greeting with a respectful dip of his head.
She returned the gesture and completed her approach, studying him a moment with her calm and knowing eyes, both soothing and irritating the elf lord. "You have decided, then" she said, voice as calm as her eyes.
He nodded. "I should have made it long ago."
"The heart is not so easy to convince as the mind, unrulable by laws or logic."
"Yet I am supposed to be wise," Elrond commented, his gaze turned back to the road, contemplating his own words.
A teasing smile ghosted about Galadriel's face. "Even the wisest cannnot see all ends."
His eyes slanted towards her. "You saw."
The Lady of the Golden Woods stared out about Rivendell, taking in the beauty of the land, and after a few moments, Elrond copied her, staring about him at the place he had called home and seeing it with new eyes after thousands of years. It was a changing land.
"Celebrian loved it here," Galadriel offered suddenly, just as calm as ever. "Whenever I saw her, she spoke of nothing but the beauty of these woods, the peace of the land, the belonging she felt. And she spoke of you. Her eyes would light up with the brilliance of many suns, the stars held forever in her gaze. She sang, and I knew her heart would never waver." Her voice trailed off and Elrond knew she was seeing something from the past.
She placed her hands lightly on the banister. "I saw the same again when Arwen came to Lothlorien, but she did not proclaim it. There was room for doubt. For me, doubt was erased when Elessar came to the Golden Wood, weary from travel and much toil. They could do much together, reclaim much that has been lost in the weary years of creeping darkness. It is up to them."
"And we will not be around to see it."
"The world is set for a new generation," she answered. "It is their time now."
"All that remains if for them to take it," Elrond agreed, nodding.
Galadriel glanced at him. "Their fates still balance on the edge of a knife. A stumble in weariness could undo all that has been done." Clear blue eyes gazed into his own. Elrond knew of what she spoke, and the apprehension that had settled in his stomach twisted tighter. She took a deep breath. "It is time to go."
"Past time," Elrond agreed, voice low.
"Yes, but I find myself desiring a lingering look at this land I have called home, ere I leave it forever. Would you mind overmuch, my lord, taking the scenic route?"
"An easy thing to grant, my lady," he replied with a small smile. "Hopefully, it will be enough."
Both cast a last glance at the road before turning and heading back to prepare for their journey. Elrond reached out with his thoughts, knowing he would find nothing. Hurry, Estel, he thought. Time grows short.