Summary: Just a brief, attempted look into the minds of Elrond, Elladan, Elrohir, Arwen, and Glorfindel of Imladris as the Fellowship leaves for Mordor. Based loosely on the loving relationship between the Elven Lord and his foster son featured so prominently in the 'Mellon Chronicles' by Cassia and Siobhan.
By Ivy Tanté
Part One; Elrond…
Gazing into the newly risen dawn, Elrond of Imladris struggled to conceal his emotions. Beneath him, marching in solemn procession, the Fellowship of the Ring began its epic journey. Nine defenders pitted against the might of Sauron, led by Gandalf the Grey. But it was the black-clad figure trailing behind the great wizard that held Elrond's attention.
The Noldor Elf did not understand the feeling of utter helplessness that besieged him at the sight of Aragorn leaving. The mortal was doing as he must, as fate had destined he would. Aragorn had taken the first step to claiming the true heritage Elrond had strove to teach him. Yet it hurt to release him. Hurt in ways the Elven Lord was little prepared to handle. It ate at his resolve, eroded away the courage and strength of will that had sustained him for all the eons of his life.
'Why this pain?' The bleak, unanswered question rose up to smite him as the Fellowship disappeared into the distance. It reverberated through his being, leaving tingling trails of fear and doubt in its wake. For the first time, the mortal was truly shorn of the Elven Lord's protection and guidance.
Elrond remained standing on the balcony, letting the morning sun gilt his features and paint vivid red streaks into his dark brown hair. Yet he did not see the golden glow that surrounded him, did not feel the warmth of a new day building. Instead his thoughts returned, over and over, to the monumental events of the past few hours.
Well he remembered his argument with Aragorn in the stillness of pre-dawn. Kneeling at his mother's grave, the man had seemed so vulnerable, almost lost. Duty required Elrond to remind Aragorn of the fate that awaited him, but the father's heart within balked at the task. Aragorn bore much upon his shoulders, to burden him further seemed cruel. But duty won, forcing the Elven Lord to bear home the unwelcome truth; Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir of Isildur -- he alone could reunite the scattered factions of Men. But it was a power Aragorn did not wish to wield.
The further words spoken burned within him still. Instead of voicing his concern for Aragorn's safety, he had pleaded once more for the freedom of Arwen Evenstar. Shame withered his pride as he recalled the harsh reality of his words. Surely Aragorn believed his fate of little importance compared to that of Arwen. So the Dúnedain had left Imladris, bound on a journey from which he might never return, leaving behind a father who had not remembered to speak of the love that lay within his heart.
The Lord of Rivendell continued to stare into the distance, ignoring the tears that dripped rhythmically from his eyes. The haunting question 'Why this pain?' echoed in his thoughts, hammering away at the serenity of his surroundings. He had just sent his son into almost certain doom for the sake of Middle-Earth, and the agony seemed worse with each passing second.
'Why this pain?' then? Because you are Estel, Aragorn. You are my hope.