Until We Meet Again

Disclaimer – Anything you recognise here belongs to JRR Tolkien.

Chapter Two – Elrond

Elrond Peredhil, Lord of Imladris, made his way up the steps to the talan. Beside him, Glorfindel, the legendary balrog-slayer, of whom songs were sung and lays were written, was chortling heartily at one of his own jokes, while Elrond's chief advisor, Erestor, looked on in stern disapproval. Sometimes, Elrond felt that Glorfindel really was quite mad, and was forced to wonder if all that balrog slaying and heroism had merely been a fluke, or else if that balrog hadn't simply killed itself out of sheer despair at having to listen to one of Glorfindel's jokes.

Elrond was brought rather abruptly out of his thoughts by Glorfindel's hand slapping him rather hard (so it seemed to him) on the back, which caused him to stumble forwards onto the stairs. "Are you all right, Peredhil?" the balrog slayer anxiously asked.

"I'm fine, Glorfindel, honestly." Elrond knew that Glorfindel meant no harm, but was it really necessary to thump him on the back like that so often? Elrond was an excellent warrier himself, but not many could stand the might of the balrog-slayer.

Finally, after what seemed like ages to Elrond, they reached the talan. There were three elves standing there – two females and a male. He recognised the male as Lord Celeborn, and the taller female was of course Galadriel, the Lady of Light. Elrond had met both of them before, but never in Lothlórien. This was his first time here, and he looked forward to getting to know both the lord and lady well. They had met before a few times, in times of war. He knew the both of them, as excellent leaders and strategists, and both were very wise. Especially the Lady. And she was very beautiful; her beauty and radiance never failed to put him in awe of her.

He always felt so – so flawed when he looked at her, even though he was supposed to be a formidable elf lord himself. He was considered wise and brave, and had seen and done much, in his (relatively) short years. He was the lord of Imladris, brought up by Erienion Gil-galad himself, and had been his herald and heir. Gil-galad... No. He could not bring himself to think of Gil-galad now. Not yet, while the pain of his passing was still fresh.

He forced himself back into the present, and continued to look at the Lady. She seemed to radiate with power, and magnificence. He had heard before that her hair was so fair that it seemed that the light of Laurelin itself, one of the Two Trees of Valinor, had been captured in her golden tresses. Some even said that Feanor had been inspired to create the Silmarili by capturing the light of the Trees when he set eyes on her tresses. When he was little, Elrond had believed these tales to be nothing more than legend, told to him by Maglor and Maedhros as bedtime stories, but now every time he actually saw Galadriel, Elrond felt that maybe the stories were true, even though he had never set eyes on the Two Trees himself.

Elrond made himself look away from her when he realised he was staring. His gaze now moved to Celeborn, standing next to the Lady. His hair was as silver as Galadriel's was gold. And while Galadriel seemed so distant, as if she was one of the stars – beautiful, but far away, Celeborn seemed like the earth – calm, serene, and so patient. They were like night and day, totally different, but each was incomplete without the other. Elrond always hoped that someday he would find someone who was so made for him; just like these two were made for each other. Someone who would cure the weariness in his soul, the hurts he carried. Someday...

Elrond brought himself out of his musings, and finally his gaze moved on to look at the elleth standing a little apart from the Lord and Lady. He had never seen her before. She looked quite shy. She seemed much younger than them, even much younger than him. She was very fair, and the resemblance her face bore to both Galadriel and Celeborn's made him realise that she must be their daughter.

Just as he was looking at her, she looked up and met his gaze. His heart told him that in that instant somehow his life had changed forever. As he looked into her eyes, he realised that there was something ... different about her, something special. He could not understand what. It was as if... as if she was meant to be standing there, as if he was meant to meet her. As he looked her, he felt calm, at peace, a feeling unknown to him since... since Elros was lost to the world. Elros was gone, but he had taken with him a part of his twin's soul. His sorrows were only intensified by the wars he saw, the grief, the passing of those who were dear to him. But when he looked at this elleth, he saw the innocence of a childhood that he had not had. A childhood untouched by war, by sorrow. When he looked at her, he felt whole again.

------------tbc--------------

Translations

Peredhil – Half-elven

Note - Maglor and Maedhros were the oldest of the sons of Feanor. When the sons of Feanor attacked the place were Elwing was staying with her sons, Elwing jumped into the sea to protect the Silmaril. Maedhros and Maglor were slightly regretful of what they had done, and took in the twins Elrond and Elros, and looked after them for a while. Later on, they were fostered by Gil-galad, till they made their choice. Elros obviously became knig of Numenor, while Elrond stayed with Gil-galad and later on became his herald and heir (since Gil-galad had no children).

Hope you liked this chapter. To Malara – Thanks for reviewing! You say loads of nice things! (hands out yummy chocolate cookies to Malara) Your reviews really mean loads to me. Sorry for the delay in posting chapters, but I really was quite stuck (and caught up in homework as well). But now that this chapter is here, do tell me what you think. I really look forward to your reviews, you know. They make me feel all happy. :) That's all for now. Until the next chapter!

- Narwen Almiriel