Author: Arinya
Rating:R
Summary: Sam is forced to retell all the things that happened after the Fellowship had succeeded in destroying the Ring. All the members of the Fellowship have their own problems. Darkness returns, and Love struggles to conquer all. But as the problems mount up to a peak, can they survive? And can Sam bear telling his audience the true story?
Chapter Five: The Voices on the Wind
Lord Elrond was truly old. Over four thousand years old, and the War of the Ring had made him feel more tired. The Grey Havens were calling to him, he could hear Celebruin's voice at times when it was very quiet. His sons now lived in Gondor, working as healers. His beloved Evenstar was aging rapidly while living happily married to Aragorn. Rivendell was almost empty, only a few elves had stayed and the meager visitors and guests did not help to brighten up the Last Homely House. It was so quiet...the trees and flowers were in full bloom...such a beautiful world, but it was becoming empty, and he yearned to go to the Grey Havens. Yet still...Middle Earth held an importance for him and he did not want to leave, not yet.
Vilya was around his index finger on his right hand and he used that hand to rest his chin on while thinking. He was sitting in a chair set out on a high balcony, overlooking the valley. He closed his eyes for a second, letting a breeze of warm air encircle him. With the wind, he felt warm arms.
"Celebrian..." he murmured and the feeling grew.
She was here, she was wih him.
"Lord Elrond" her voice said playfully.
"Are you too busy with business affairs to tend to your wife?"
"Never" he said.
"You are too serious...you grow older looking whenever I see you"
"Nonsense" he said, smiling faintly.
"Only one word answers my Lord?" she asked.
"Loosen up Elrond...I do so love you"
"I love you too" he whispered, and the illusion broke.
He opened his eyes and the warm arms were gone. Her lovely voice had dissipated. He wept silently.
"Celebrian, why do you taunt me so?"
And he could mentally hear her answer.
"Because I love you Elrond Peredhil...forgive me"
The breeze abruptly went away and he sighed. The wind had dried his tears and he stood to go into his private chambers, to wallow in self-pity, no matter how unelf-like it was.
His regal crimson velvet robe trailed on the polished marble floor, and he closed the door to his quarters.