Alagos
---Chapter Four---
Elrond Peredhel, descendant of Thingol and Melian, Idril and Tuor, Beren and Lúthien, son of Eärendil and Elwing, wife to Celebrían and father to Arwen, Elladan, and Elrohir, at that moment, lost faith in the Valar completely. When the last of Elladan's song finally drifted into silence, he remained standing there, gazing at the lifeless faces of his sons, becoming progressively more soaked as the rain ran unchecked over his body. He simply stared at first Elrohir, then Elladan, then Elrohir again. A icy cold that had nothing to do with the rain took a hold of his heart. Finally he moved - but it was not a very big move. He dropped onto his knees between Elladan and Elrohir - his sons - his firstborn - and reached out gingerly to twine his fingers in their soaked, raven-black hair, a gesture of affection he had always used in times when they were upset or in need of comfort.
But they did not laugh and shake his fingers out of their hair.
They did not even move in the slightest.
They - were dead.
Glorfindel did not realize what had happened until several moments later - he had moved some distance away, and had not heard the song. So when he came tramping back, he was surprised to see Elrond kneeling there, knee- deep in mud, completely motionless save for the rain that trickled to the ground after running off his cloak and clothes. Then realization washed over him, and he stood rooted to the spot in horror for several minutes. Neither he nor Elrond moved.
Until, at last, Elrond rose to his feet. He glanced once at Glorfindel, and the seneschal was startled to see him completely devoid of emotion whatsoever. With a last glance at his sons, Elrond began to walk away - not in the direction of the Last Homely House, but away, towards the falls and the Bruinen.
With a cry of dismay, he ran after his lord.
"Elrond! My lord, what are you doing?"
"Nothing," Glorfindel caught the whispered word when he was but a step behind me. "Leave me, Glorfindel."
"By Elbereth, Elrond," he gasped, fear rising in his heart. "You're going the wrong way!"
"I am not."
"Yes you ARE!" Glorfindel grabbed his shoulder. He glared at him. "Elrond, come to your senses! I know that th--"
Elrond spun on his heel and hit his friend as hard as he could. Shocked and stunned by the blow, Glorfindel reeled to the ground, and did not get up again. The lord of Imladris gaped in horror at what he had done, and without further ado turned and fled into the forest.
And as if by some horrid jest of irony, it seemed that the wind and rain let up-even if it did so only slightly. The moment it didn't matter anymore if the large drops were mounding down onto the earth, and the wind was blowing leaves into oblivion. the storm began to calm. As if Elrohir's and Elladan's death was a sign that the job was done.
If it was indeed a kind of joke, it was a cruel one at that.
Erestor who had nearly gotten lost, finally made his way back to the fallen sycamores with a heavy sigh. Yet that sigh caught in his throat as a horrendous sight greeted him, causing him to drop the large piece of wood that had been resting in his arms. First Erestor's eyes rested on the seemingly lifeless forms of the twins, before moving over to the fallen Glorfindel. And no matter where he looked, he could no longer see Elrond.
The Elf blinked, coming out of a shock-induced trance, and sprinted over to the seneschal. "Glorfindel!? What has happened?" Erestor queried urgently, shaking the captain rather roughly. The whole area had taken on a dreadful atmosphere.
Glorfindel was shaken and disoriented when Erestor began to wake him. His first conscious thought was, 'Why in the name of the Lady am I lying on the ground?' The second, after he began to stir, 'Why am I so wet?' And it took the third, 'Oh good Elbereth!', for him to remember fully what was going on. Memory came flooding back to him in the form of a distraut groan as he hurriedly sat up. He grabbed onto Erestor's shoulder to help him drag himself to his feet, and then abruptly fell again. The blow had made him unpleasantly lightheaded.
"Elrond!" he snapped, not exactly having enough of a handle on his words yet. He shook his head sharply, spraying droplettes everywhere and in so doing clearing his head. He got up at a slower speed, still holding onto Erestor's shoulder for support. He looked around him with wide eyes. "Erestor - where is Elrond? We- by Elbereth! Where did he go?"
He cursed fitfully - everything seemed so terribly confusing to the elven lord. Then, dragging Erestor behind him, he began walking off on the most likely direction Elrond took.
The Peredhel did not stop until he had reached the very banks of the Bruinen. Only then did he pause. He leaned against a tree, panting from the exertion. Slowly he sunk to the ground, and hid his face in his hands. What had he done? Glorfindel had only tried to help him - he tried to stop him from - doing exactly what he was doing now. Elrond shuddered and lifted his eyes around him, his eyes drifting to the angry waters of the Bruinen, being disturbed by the storm. For a long time he gazed at them.
His sons were his life. When Celebrian passed on to Valinor, his heart had been broken into pieces - he had lived only for the fact that his children - and Imladris - depended on him. Now Arwen was in Lórien - his sons - dead. Glorfindel and Erestor were more than capable to watch over Imladris.
He blinked at the stormy grey waters. How much was he willing to sacrifice to be with his family again?
"ELROND!" He started. Glorfindel's voice. "ELROND! Where in Elbereth's name are you?"
He got quickly to his feet, shaking now. He did not have very long to make up his mind.
Glorfindel remained calling and chasing through the pine grove for a while, tugging Erestor behind him, looking for his lord. It was not difficult to follow his trail - while the storm died, it was easy to see the broken branches and muddy footprints that Elrond left behind. He wasn't trying to conceal himself. Glorfindel tried to tell himself this was a good sign - for, if Elrond did not want to be found, he would not leave such an obvious trail, would he? He tried not to acknowledge the fact that if Elrond did not care anymore about such things he would not have bothered to hide his tracks.
As he went, the sound of the falls that ran into the Bruinen became louder in his ears, and still Elrond did not answer.
"ELROND!" he hollared, beginning to get really afraid. "Elrond! Stop being rediculous!"
But he was afraid that Elrond was being rediculous, for, as soon as he and Erestor broke out of the forest, he was faced with nothing but a short epanse of greying grass, and then the ground abruptly dropped down, and the roaring of the water was loud in his ears as he stepped forward - he followed Elrond's steps right to the edge. Then he stood still, gazing down into the swirling white foam crashing against the rocks with wide, fathomless blue eyes. He looked around him once again, shocked. No. Definitely, no steps led away from there. That could only mean...
Glorfindel blinked, too shocked for words.
Elrond had made his choice.
Some called it the coward's way to go, but for Elrond, he could see no other way. A life without his sons was a life without meaning.
------
Nyerrr. Xx;; The end.
Cast list. Talon ~~~ Elladan. Furbeh ~~~ Elrohir, Erestor. Rochwen ~~~ Elrond, Glorfindel.
This is the first draft. When I have enough time I'll fix it up and make it more like a story and less like a copy/pasted RP. ^^
---Chapter Four---
Elrond Peredhel, descendant of Thingol and Melian, Idril and Tuor, Beren and Lúthien, son of Eärendil and Elwing, wife to Celebrían and father to Arwen, Elladan, and Elrohir, at that moment, lost faith in the Valar completely. When the last of Elladan's song finally drifted into silence, he remained standing there, gazing at the lifeless faces of his sons, becoming progressively more soaked as the rain ran unchecked over his body. He simply stared at first Elrohir, then Elladan, then Elrohir again. A icy cold that had nothing to do with the rain took a hold of his heart. Finally he moved - but it was not a very big move. He dropped onto his knees between Elladan and Elrohir - his sons - his firstborn - and reached out gingerly to twine his fingers in their soaked, raven-black hair, a gesture of affection he had always used in times when they were upset or in need of comfort.
But they did not laugh and shake his fingers out of their hair.
They did not even move in the slightest.
They - were dead.
Glorfindel did not realize what had happened until several moments later - he had moved some distance away, and had not heard the song. So when he came tramping back, he was surprised to see Elrond kneeling there, knee- deep in mud, completely motionless save for the rain that trickled to the ground after running off his cloak and clothes. Then realization washed over him, and he stood rooted to the spot in horror for several minutes. Neither he nor Elrond moved.
Until, at last, Elrond rose to his feet. He glanced once at Glorfindel, and the seneschal was startled to see him completely devoid of emotion whatsoever. With a last glance at his sons, Elrond began to walk away - not in the direction of the Last Homely House, but away, towards the falls and the Bruinen.
With a cry of dismay, he ran after his lord.
"Elrond! My lord, what are you doing?"
"Nothing," Glorfindel caught the whispered word when he was but a step behind me. "Leave me, Glorfindel."
"By Elbereth, Elrond," he gasped, fear rising in his heart. "You're going the wrong way!"
"I am not."
"Yes you ARE!" Glorfindel grabbed his shoulder. He glared at him. "Elrond, come to your senses! I know that th--"
Elrond spun on his heel and hit his friend as hard as he could. Shocked and stunned by the blow, Glorfindel reeled to the ground, and did not get up again. The lord of Imladris gaped in horror at what he had done, and without further ado turned and fled into the forest.
And as if by some horrid jest of irony, it seemed that the wind and rain let up-even if it did so only slightly. The moment it didn't matter anymore if the large drops were mounding down onto the earth, and the wind was blowing leaves into oblivion. the storm began to calm. As if Elrohir's and Elladan's death was a sign that the job was done.
If it was indeed a kind of joke, it was a cruel one at that.
Erestor who had nearly gotten lost, finally made his way back to the fallen sycamores with a heavy sigh. Yet that sigh caught in his throat as a horrendous sight greeted him, causing him to drop the large piece of wood that had been resting in his arms. First Erestor's eyes rested on the seemingly lifeless forms of the twins, before moving over to the fallen Glorfindel. And no matter where he looked, he could no longer see Elrond.
The Elf blinked, coming out of a shock-induced trance, and sprinted over to the seneschal. "Glorfindel!? What has happened?" Erestor queried urgently, shaking the captain rather roughly. The whole area had taken on a dreadful atmosphere.
Glorfindel was shaken and disoriented when Erestor began to wake him. His first conscious thought was, 'Why in the name of the Lady am I lying on the ground?' The second, after he began to stir, 'Why am I so wet?' And it took the third, 'Oh good Elbereth!', for him to remember fully what was going on. Memory came flooding back to him in the form of a distraut groan as he hurriedly sat up. He grabbed onto Erestor's shoulder to help him drag himself to his feet, and then abruptly fell again. The blow had made him unpleasantly lightheaded.
"Elrond!" he snapped, not exactly having enough of a handle on his words yet. He shook his head sharply, spraying droplettes everywhere and in so doing clearing his head. He got up at a slower speed, still holding onto Erestor's shoulder for support. He looked around him with wide eyes. "Erestor - where is Elrond? We- by Elbereth! Where did he go?"
He cursed fitfully - everything seemed so terribly confusing to the elven lord. Then, dragging Erestor behind him, he began walking off on the most likely direction Elrond took.
The Peredhel did not stop until he had reached the very banks of the Bruinen. Only then did he pause. He leaned against a tree, panting from the exertion. Slowly he sunk to the ground, and hid his face in his hands. What had he done? Glorfindel had only tried to help him - he tried to stop him from - doing exactly what he was doing now. Elrond shuddered and lifted his eyes around him, his eyes drifting to the angry waters of the Bruinen, being disturbed by the storm. For a long time he gazed at them.
His sons were his life. When Celebrian passed on to Valinor, his heart had been broken into pieces - he had lived only for the fact that his children - and Imladris - depended on him. Now Arwen was in Lórien - his sons - dead. Glorfindel and Erestor were more than capable to watch over Imladris.
He blinked at the stormy grey waters. How much was he willing to sacrifice to be with his family again?
"ELROND!" He started. Glorfindel's voice. "ELROND! Where in Elbereth's name are you?"
He got quickly to his feet, shaking now. He did not have very long to make up his mind.
Glorfindel remained calling and chasing through the pine grove for a while, tugging Erestor behind him, looking for his lord. It was not difficult to follow his trail - while the storm died, it was easy to see the broken branches and muddy footprints that Elrond left behind. He wasn't trying to conceal himself. Glorfindel tried to tell himself this was a good sign - for, if Elrond did not want to be found, he would not leave such an obvious trail, would he? He tried not to acknowledge the fact that if Elrond did not care anymore about such things he would not have bothered to hide his tracks.
As he went, the sound of the falls that ran into the Bruinen became louder in his ears, and still Elrond did not answer.
"ELROND!" he hollared, beginning to get really afraid. "Elrond! Stop being rediculous!"
But he was afraid that Elrond was being rediculous, for, as soon as he and Erestor broke out of the forest, he was faced with nothing but a short epanse of greying grass, and then the ground abruptly dropped down, and the roaring of the water was loud in his ears as he stepped forward - he followed Elrond's steps right to the edge. Then he stood still, gazing down into the swirling white foam crashing against the rocks with wide, fathomless blue eyes. He looked around him once again, shocked. No. Definitely, no steps led away from there. That could only mean...
Glorfindel blinked, too shocked for words.
Elrond had made his choice.
Some called it the coward's way to go, but for Elrond, he could see no other way. A life without his sons was a life without meaning.
------
Nyerrr. Xx;; The end.
Cast list. Talon ~~~ Elladan. Furbeh ~~~ Elrohir, Erestor. Rochwen ~~~ Elrond, Glorfindel.
This is the first draft. When I have enough time I'll fix it up and make it more like a story and less like a copy/pasted RP. ^^