I watched him when he was a child. I did not and could not imagine that one day he would indeed grow up and take his place. Even at a mere twenty years old, I could see his fear and shame. What he was ashamed of, I still do not know. I was his father and healer, his protector and his teacher, and I tried to shield him. Like his father, he would not be shielded. He would forever remain a mystery, though I knew him intimately. He was my son; what was to be expected?
I never thought he'd love her. I never thought I would have to part with two of the greatest gifts I had ever been given. But I did. I saw the love in his eyes and the anguish in hers for me to let go and let them love each other. I have never been helpless, save four times. The first was when Elros left me to die. The second was when Isildur would not cast the Ring aside. The third was when my wife finally returned to be, battered and scarred in ways I could not heal her. The fourth was letting go of a son and a daughter.
What is right and what hurts is often the same thing.
As I watch him hold her hand delicately in his own as they glide across the floor as husband and wife, I am at peace and content to see their love and know. Know they are safe and they are together. I will not diminish from grief, for I have a wife to return to soon.