~*~

Nearby candles and lamps lit a table laden with plates, but the rest of the chamber remained dark. Little conversation passed between the two lone diners, and privacy had been requested of the staff. Yet the occasional Elf would hurry through the room, eyes aglow with curiosity and awe owing nothing to any errand.

Reaching for a pitcher, Elros refilled both goblets with water. "Is there something else I can bring you?"

His companion spared attention from his mutton to assess the table. Finding the sliced bread, fresh fruit, spiced wine and cheese adequate, he nodded in accord, then reengaged his meat.

Sitting back, Elros glanced at the empty bowl before him. One ladle of stew had satiated his own appetite; the same had merely whetted Elrond's. "You must be famished. I wonder if there is any substance under that gear you wear." Seeing his brother chew faster to answer promptly, he added, "I suppose there is now, hm?" Both showed identical smiles.

For a while there was quiet. In that time Elros waved two passing Elves to go along their way swiftly; but he marked their gazes linger with trepidation upon the warblade laid across the table. His own eyes traced the runes writ athwart the scabbard even as he murmured, "You must meet the King." Blinking he said, "The High King of the Noldor here; Gil-galad he is called, and Ereinion also."

After a drink of water, Elrond replied, "I know who the High King is."

At this oversight Elros felt his cheeks tingle and warm. A portrait of young Ereinion had hung --and later burned-- in the library of their childhood home, and his was a familiar household name. "Of course you do, forgive me. Seems I am befuddled with excitement tonight."

"But where is he now?"

"Nenuial, though that is not his abode." Elros considered, then laughed away a developing frown. "Now, tell me again: which side of the Ered Luin did you follow south?"

"Inland." Surprising his brother, Elrond tilted his head in the correct direction.

"Then you might have seen the Emyn Uial in the east, if you stayed near enough to the river, and have eyes sharp as your sense of location. Well, beyond those hills lies a lake some call Evendim; Elves dwell thereabouts, and some Men also, if temporarily."

"Nenuial..." now Elrond became thoughtful, but Elros spoke in his place, letting his brother eat uninterrupted.

"Yes, that is where Eonwe led the Host, and where for half a decade I watched in vain for your coming." Dispelling the image of a bare horizon from his mind, he recalled happier things. "Ai Elrond, you should have seen it! Our encampment was a forest of waving standards and polished helms. We lived close but merrily, for there was much rejoicing in that time, even as the land was still changing. First to depart were the Teleri, mariners from Balar, of whom Cirdan is Lord – would you believe that those folk built these Havens fast as a beaver makes its damn? In woodcraft and all matters of sealore they are masters, and from them we Men have learned much. Yet the High King would have a stronghold of stone in Forlindon north and west of the Gulf of Lhun, and its construction took the longer.

"A colony of Elves we found at Lake Evendim when we arrived there, refugees chiefly from Doriath and Ossiriand. I think they were not sad to see so many uninvited guests take leave! But Gil-galad has gone now to invite them into the southern lands, called Harlindon. You see, this realm west of the Ered Luin has been named Lindon, which Gil-galad reigns even as he welcomes any to come hither who will. I must introduce you! He is a good King, brother, mark my words."

With a sigh, Elrond put down his half-eaten fruit, eyes settling with little tolerance upon his twin. "I would rather mark your meaning, if you would but speak it plainly."

Smiling sheepishly, Elros stammered, "A-aye, you caught me. 'Tis just... well, I only mean to say that there is a place for you here." Seeing that familiar gaze narrow, he surrendered the rest, "Gil-galad has offered to me positions among his court, first as an advisor, then as a captain when I declined, and recently as his own herald. And he is not the only one; many Lords here seek to fill ranks spread thin after the wars past. Surely someone would take an interest in you, and gladly I would vouch on your behalf."

Elrond sat back, and if possible his stare grew more intense. At length he made a hand gesture to the table, and spoke in a humorless tone, "Naught but scraps remain between us, it seems."

Perceiving no remorse after those cold words, Elros turned his face away as if slapped. "Scraps! Think you I would pass aught to my brother that I deem unfit for myself?"

"You speak of declined positions, and offer to help my chances of procuring them with your endorsement. How to you does that seem?"

Simultaneously realizing and denying his guilt, Elros had no answer, save to balm his wound by dealing another. "That armor is prettier than it is effective. I fear the icy winds of the north have pierced your heart unhindered."

No footsteps sounded after the dull thud of a heavy coin hitting wood, but when Elros shifted his eyes from the empty room the sword was gone, and with it Elrond. Upon the table shone a branded gold coin embedded with a seashell. Elros guessed correctly that it was hastily forged out of metal and ornament scraps -- its insignia was that of Finarfin.

~*~

Stepping into the tent, Elros stood blocking the door. "I know what you mean to do, and think less of your captain for permitting it. Had you come under my command instead... are you listening? Were it in my power, I would forbid this madness."

"Yet Eonwe himself has not done so," said Elrond, busy packing less than wise to take – yet all that was at hand. "He bade me follow my own council, and in wisdom I cannot abandon honour. Though the road be dark, I will tread it still, alone since I must.

"Wisdom, you say? Honour?" Elros came forth, halting his twin by the arm. "Of folly you speak, and naught else. Hearken! What will you do, if you find them? Or if you cannot find them, what then?" Seeing no answer forthcoming, he turned away. Sounds of packing began again. At a loss, Elros gazed around. The tent served another purpose for which it was over-large; Elrond only occupied unused space within, and owned little to leave behind.

"Was a time when I aspired only to master a trade, and stay alive long enough to be useful." The tent fell quiet. Elros continued, "I was thirty years of age when I first commanded a battle, winning the victory. Eonwe said I was born a leader that Men and Elves should follow one so young. But I did not ask for recognition that has yet to cease, nor foresaw coming this far in high regard. And you have moved like a ghost through this war, unseen, triumphant, yet esteemed only by rumor. If what I have heard is true, you have accomplished as much as you have missed: acknowledgment, responsibility, promotion--"

"Elros, I have no time to lose. Why are you saying this?"

"Because I look into your face, and though it be a reflection of my own, it is unfamiliar to me. Chance has led us apart since we first came to this war – do not leave now when it is ended at last."

"I am bound by my word, not choice." At the door, Elrond gave pause. "I head north."

In a sigh Elros said, "And I south."

"Look for them, if you can." Elrond was gone before the reply came, or else it was lost to the rain.

~*~