So here me be…
Disclaimer: You know the drill. I am not the Man-man and I take no credit for his works. Ever.
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Ch.8
S.R. 1538, Spring
Anarion sat in some garden, playing a cheerful tune on her harp. She had been playing more merry notes, of late, due to a request from her niece.
Imladris had grown quiet, and many- nearly all- of the Elves that had once resided there had left for the Grey Havens, and then on to Valinor and it's white shores. The days were long and without occurrence in Rivendell, and it had Aratan, son of Elladan, and Anrion Lomë -Lí re, were constantly getting into trouble.
Still the twins were loved dearly by their small family, which consisted only of their loving aunt Anarion, energetic uncle Elrohir, and their wise, old grandfather. In age the children were well over one hundred years, but in body they looked to be no more than the tender age of nine.
Anarion kept playing her harp, even as she heard the soft, sure footfalls of her nephew. He appeared moments later and stopped before her, not moving or speaking, but clearly holding in his excitement.
Anarion set down her harp and looked up at the elfling. He was fairly tall for his age, and his hair was in tangles from running, but his eyes were clear and violet as her own. "Are you not supposed to be with your uncle, Aratan?" she asked, sternly.
The boy's face took on a quick look of one who had gotten caught with his hand in a pie, but he shook it away. "I am, but grandfather wants to speak to you, Auntie." He said, proudly. He had always admired Elrond, and he was overjoyed when he could run a errand for the elder Elf.
Anarion nodded and sent the boy on his way, then headed to Elrond's study. She found him standing behind his desk, ready a letter, and he wordlessly held another out to her. She took it, and read who the sender was. "Arwen?" she asked the elder, and he nodded.
"Yes. A ship is being planned in Ithilien, and she wishes for you to stay in Gondor until it is begun."
"A ship?" Anarion repeated. "A ship to…?"
"To send you and the Elves there to Valinor." Elrond replied, and returned to his own letter, thoughtfully.
The she-Elf before him was speechless, and she nearly gasped. "To Valinor?" she said aloud, and sat in a chair behind her.
At the incredulous tone of her voice had the elder looked up. "You are surprised, Anarion?" She didn't reply, but looked out the window to the empty haven of Imladris. "You have been alive since Isildur passed away, yet you still wish to see more of Middle Earth? I would have thought you would be most eager to leave?"
Anarion looked back at him and shook her head. "I have been here nearly my entire life, Elrond. Of course I want to stay in Middle Earth. I haven't grown weary of these lands yet."
"But you will see plenty in the next few years to satisfy your curiosity. I believe you will have grown weary Middle Earth by the time you must leave, and you will wish to see the wonders of your true home. The one that awaits you in Valinor." Elrond said, and the harpist shook her head.
"And what of the children? I won't leave them."
"I have thought of that, too, and the answer is simple: they are leaving with you." Anarion was shocked at the Elf's words.
"But they are too young!" she cried, and shot out of the chair. "They haven't yet seen enough of these lands, and I will not take them to another."
Elrond shook his head. "You have to take them. Where else can they stay? I will not have them raised in Imladris, where it is merely a ghost of it's former splendor. There is nothing for them here. In a few years I believe I will be the only one left here."
"I won't take them from their home, Elrond." she said, on a last attempt to change his mind.
"Then you would have them despair? Their hearts may be young, but they wish to see the vastness of the sea. You can give them that by taking them to Ithilien when the ship is complete."
He had a point. She didn't want to agree, but he did have a point. Anarion took a deep, frustrated breath and looked out over Imladris again. "I will miss this place." she muttered, and Elrond laughed.
"Of course you will. It has been your home for a long time."
Anarion nodded, and looked up at her once-guardian. "Thank you, Elrond. Not just for your words."
"Your father was my mentor and also a great friend. I am honored to have known his daughters." He bowed his head, and she returned the gesture.
"I suppose I should pack." she said, simply, and he smiled.
"Arwen wrote that Elessar could send for some escorts, but there are several here that I can send with you. They wish to leave to Valinor, and this is the perfect time."
"Right. I will see you tomorrow morning." she said, and left the study.
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Anarion had lied to Elrond when she said she did not wish to see the crisp, salty waters of the sea, and when the day came for herself and her sister's children to leave Imladris for Gondor, she was excited.
The three Elves said their goodbyes to Elrond and Elrohir, and- with the six escorts Elrond had given them- they left their home and headed for the White City.
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S.R. 5038 Autumn
I feel it safe to write that I was at my wit's end by the third week of travel. Aratan had chosen to try both mine and his sister's patience.
He was constantly tossing insects and twigs at Aniron and she returned the assaults in kind by putting pinecones into his boots and thorns in his bed.
Yet, I suppose their endless pranks kept each other sane, and though I discouraged such activity, I suppose it kept me sane as well.
The six escorts Elrond had sent with us we proving to be more difficult to have than be without. Especially one particular Elf, Roquen. His advances to me are getting more than just merely annoying; at one point I considered using the reins of my horse to strangle him.
I shamed myself for such thoughts, but only until he began touching my shoulder, or trying to hold my hand when he spoke; then I considered accidentally tripping into him, and causing him fall into the fire. The twins would have seen right through my supposed accident, and what's worse...they would have been proud.
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There you are, please review.
