The eyes of Elrond Half-elven were a calm, cool grey rung by amber and only they could see the sorrowful fate toward which Middle Earth was headed.
The end of the Elves was nigh at hand. He could feel it deep inside his blood as he wandered the stone terraces that overlooked the great river in Rivendell. Tears tugged at the corners of his eyes these days. Every time he looked into the gently smiling youthful faces of his subjects, he had to fight them back.
Elrond knew, in his heart, that the Elvish peoples must solve their differences and depart for the West. Too long, they had grown distant. He feared that the disagreements that had grown over the centuries might cause irreparable damage to the relations of the Elven races. But most of all, he feared kin slayings. Thus, he decided that there should be a Gathering: each race would have representatives sent to meet and discuss the fate of all Elves.
Immediately, he sat down at the great mahogany desk in his study so full of books and took up the quill. "Dear Lady," He wrote to Galadriel, "The time has come for the Elves of this world to decide on what fate should be theirs. I seek your counsel in this issue, for you are wise and good, and well-respected in all lands. I wish to call a Gathering. From every forest, every mountain... From every gully and river... All Elves are to send diplomats to discuss these issues that now face us. Please, Lady, tell me your thoughts on it, for I much desire to know them." He signed his own name in a flourishing hand and sealed the envelope with his particular wax of scarlet. Then he dispatched a messenger to take it to Lothlorien.
For days, Elrond waited for an answer. Then, on a morning two weeks later, his messenger returned to Imladris bearing a new letter sealed with the silver wax of the Lord and Lady of the Galadhrim. It read:
My Dear Elrond, Lord of Imladris: As to your question of my counsel, I would of course readily give it. It seems, however, that you've no need of it! A Gathering is all well in order for the calling, and please to know that I would gladly and fully support you in this endeavor. My representatives are already chosen, and we await your word.
Ever yours truly, Galadriel
Elrond smiled. He held the letter for a long time before him, reading and rereading thoughtfully. Finally, he took his pen once more to put it to paper. This letter, he would send to his scribes to copy. From there, it would go into the hands of his messengers who would carry it to every corner of Middle Earth. Silently, Elrond called upon the Valar to favor his decision.
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Chibi Legolas: Doing some editing, and have cleaned this story up, taking out the spelling mistakes and the Elven name errors. Hope you still like it! ^_^ A note about the Dark Elves that will appear in this story: they are my own race, based loosely on Tolkien's Dark Elves. The Dark Elves of Tolkien were not dark in appearance. Rather, they were known as "dark elves" because they lived in a different part of Middle Earth, outside the light of the famous Silmarils. They did not live within the realm of the Silmarils, thus they were called "dark elves." Mine are based on those, so you will see some of their characteristics incorporated into my story. However, the Elves themselves are more like Native American Indians in culture and appearance. Their language is one that I developed for a race on my invented planet "Evaland." Therefore, it belongs to me.
Now that these details are out of the way, I hope you enjoy the fan fiction!
P.S. This is a mild slash story, but the slash is not the focus. And it's not graphic at all, for those of you who don't like slash.
The end of the Elves was nigh at hand. He could feel it deep inside his blood as he wandered the stone terraces that overlooked the great river in Rivendell. Tears tugged at the corners of his eyes these days. Every time he looked into the gently smiling youthful faces of his subjects, he had to fight them back.
Elrond knew, in his heart, that the Elvish peoples must solve their differences and depart for the West. Too long, they had grown distant. He feared that the disagreements that had grown over the centuries might cause irreparable damage to the relations of the Elven races. But most of all, he feared kin slayings. Thus, he decided that there should be a Gathering: each race would have representatives sent to meet and discuss the fate of all Elves.
Immediately, he sat down at the great mahogany desk in his study so full of books and took up the quill. "Dear Lady," He wrote to Galadriel, "The time has come for the Elves of this world to decide on what fate should be theirs. I seek your counsel in this issue, for you are wise and good, and well-respected in all lands. I wish to call a Gathering. From every forest, every mountain... From every gully and river... All Elves are to send diplomats to discuss these issues that now face us. Please, Lady, tell me your thoughts on it, for I much desire to know them." He signed his own name in a flourishing hand and sealed the envelope with his particular wax of scarlet. Then he dispatched a messenger to take it to Lothlorien.
For days, Elrond waited for an answer. Then, on a morning two weeks later, his messenger returned to Imladris bearing a new letter sealed with the silver wax of the Lord and Lady of the Galadhrim. It read:
My Dear Elrond, Lord of Imladris: As to your question of my counsel, I would of course readily give it. It seems, however, that you've no need of it! A Gathering is all well in order for the calling, and please to know that I would gladly and fully support you in this endeavor. My representatives are already chosen, and we await your word.
Ever yours truly, Galadriel
Elrond smiled. He held the letter for a long time before him, reading and rereading thoughtfully. Finally, he took his pen once more to put it to paper. This letter, he would send to his scribes to copy. From there, it would go into the hands of his messengers who would carry it to every corner of Middle Earth. Silently, Elrond called upon the Valar to favor his decision.
------------------- ------------------- --------------------
Chibi Legolas: Doing some editing, and have cleaned this story up, taking out the spelling mistakes and the Elven name errors. Hope you still like it! ^_^ A note about the Dark Elves that will appear in this story: they are my own race, based loosely on Tolkien's Dark Elves. The Dark Elves of Tolkien were not dark in appearance. Rather, they were known as "dark elves" because they lived in a different part of Middle Earth, outside the light of the famous Silmarils. They did not live within the realm of the Silmarils, thus they were called "dark elves." Mine are based on those, so you will see some of their characteristics incorporated into my story. However, the Elves themselves are more like Native American Indians in culture and appearance. Their language is one that I developed for a race on my invented planet "Evaland." Therefore, it belongs to me.
Now that these details are out of the way, I hope you enjoy the fan fiction!
P.S. This is a mild slash story, but the slash is not the focus. And it's not graphic at all, for those of you who don't like slash.