Chapter Seventy-Three: Westward and On

"Elrond, wake up!"

Elrond I stirred, blinking as consciousness washed over him. His younger self was calling to him, from quite close as it sounded. As his vision cleared he frowned at Elrond II, who was standing rather anxiously at the foot of his bed.

"Any particular reason why a body can't have a decent night's sleep all of a sudden?" the elder half-elf yawned, still half-asleep as he sat up and gazed blearily out of his bedroom window. "For goodness' sake, Elrond, it's hardly past dawn! Whatever reason you have, it had better be a good one…"

"You're leaving to pay a visit to Maglor in the Grey Havens today, remember?" Elrond II reminded him. "You've only been planning this for three weeks!" His good-humored wit was evident in his tone.

Suddenly quite wakeful, Elrond I flung his blanket off of himself, leapt from his bed and began hurrying around the bedroom. "Of course, yes! I'd completely forgotten about that. What would I do without you?"

"That was a very strange thing to say to yourself," Elrond II frowned, "but whatever. I'll help you pack, shall I?" He wandered in the direction of the wardrobe and pulled it open, peering inside.

"That was another very strange thing to say to yourself," Elrond I countered, grabbing up several articles of clothing from his wardrobe and stuffing them unceremoniously into a haversack. "But don't you have packing of your own to do? I mean… oh, you know what I mean!"

"I know what you meant." Elrond II smiled, absently tidying up his godfather's bed as he spoke. "But I'm not coming with you. This is a trip meant only for you, after all, not me."

"What?" Elrond I dropped an armful of tunics in surprise, and scrambled to pick them up. "You have to come! Lord Mandos said we can never be any more than five miles apart at any time! Remember what would happen? I told you all about the torn-kerchief thing—"

"That doesn't matter anymore!" his godson replied cheerfully, coming forward to pick up some of the dropped tunics. "Lord Mandos told me only last night that that business is over and done with. From now on, it doesn't matter how far apart we get. We could be on opposite ends of the earth, say, and we would be just fine."

"Well, that's definitely news to me!" Elrond I laughed, his disposition brightened greatly by this new prospect. "Excellent! The sooner I can get packed, the sooner I can leave, and the sooner I can leave, the sooner I'll arrive. The sooner I arrive, the sooner Maglor and I can start working on our big 'project'."

"You haven't even told him what it is yet, have you?" Elrond II asked. "And are you sure about this whole thing? It's a big thing, what you're planning, and it wouldn't be good if it turned out to be all a waste of time. And how do you know you're destined to do this at all? You could be headed in exactly the opposite direction that you're meant—"

"It will be fine, just fine," Elrond I reassured himself. "My instructions were clear. Trust me; I know what I'm doing."

----

"I'm glad you know what you're doing; I definitely don't," Maglor admitted, staring up at the dauntingly-high pile of stocked timber in the shipyard of Mithlond. "A ship is a big thing to build, and there are only two of us – one of us, technically, as you're the only one between us who knows the craft of building ships…"

"That's what I'm here to teach you," Elrond I replied amiably, clapping his friend on the shoulder. "We're both following together in Cirdan's footsteps, aren't we? I learned the craft of shipbuilding from Cirdan and my own father, Eärendil the Mariner himself, back when I lived in Sirion. I started just a few days after Elrond the Second was born. But my father's ship was a small one, meant only to carry four people, and no doubt we'll need a much larger one. A lot of elves will want to take the quickest route from here to Valinor."

Maglor was still anxious as he asked his kinsman, "And exactly how long will it take for us to build a ship like that?"

"Don't worry," the half-elf reassured him. "We'll tackle this one step at a time. Best way to get any job done. Besides, if Eru really means for us to do this, we'll get it done right when He wants it done, and not a moment sooner. But we should get started soon, if not straight away. One piece of timber at a time."

----

"Is something troubling you, Elwing?"

Elwing turned to look at the golden-eyed Valië seated calmly at her right side, and shook her head with a slight smile. "No, my lady, I'm just fine. On the contrary, I thought you seemed to be rather upset about something. May I ask what it might be?"

Vairë heaved a deep sigh, turning away from her loom to look into her kinswoman's face. "I have never thanked you properly for what you did for me in the Void. You freely took my place in the battle, you suffered for my sake, and you might have died in my place. It was completely selfless of you to do so. You could have declined, you could have turned from me when I told you of my intentions, but you did not. You passed through the Gates of Night perhaps even more fearlessly than your husband. I owe you more than I can tell of, Elwing, daughter of Dior Eluchil."

Elwing noted the use of her full title, and she bowed her head reverentially to the Weaver. "The world as a whole owes its existence to you, my lady."

Vairë's eyes glimmered strangely as she smiled, and she turned back to her loom, perhaps more than a little insecurely. For a while there was silence except for the loom's clicking, and at length Elwing plucked up enough courage to speak out again.

"My son always speaks quite fondly of you," she said nervously. "He regards you almost as a sister-in-law. And what with… recent happenings, I believe his affection for you can only have deepened after you saved not only his life, but the rest of the world as well."

This time the moist shimmer in Vairë's eyes was very noticeable, as was the pale crimson flush of her cheeks. "I would be far more than honored to accept his affection. Elrond is a most admirable elf; to think of him desiring me as a sister-in-law is more than gratifying. I can think of no other whom I would sooner choose for a brother-in-law."

"And I would be more than gratified to have you as a daughter-in-law," Elwing replied, a tender smile wreathing her lovely face. Her eyes were every bit as teary as the Weaver's. On a sudden whim she bent her head, gazing down at Vairë's nearly-complete tapestry. A vivid depiction of Elrond I and Maglor working steadily to finish building their ship was woven with exquisite detail.

"Well, Elrond certainly is his father's son," she murmured lovingly. "He and Maglor are nearly finished their ship. It has been more than half a year now since they started, hasn't it?"

"Yes," Vairë agreed. "These past seven months have been very long. It was the middle of June when Elrond the First traveled to the Grey Havens, and he and Maglor began toiling there." She cast a glance out of the window she and Elwing were seated by, taking in the snow that was tumbling down thick and fast outside, as it had been doing for the past few hours now. January had the valley of Rivendell caught tight in its frosty white clutches.

Elwing reclined a little where she sat, closing her eyes serenely. Even in the thickest part of winter she was obdurate to the cold, and the ambiance of fondness and warmth seemed to be embracing her like nothing she had ever felt before. It was almost as if a blanket of affection had been tucked around her. Deeply contented, Elwing soon drifted off to sleep, far from the norm of her kindred, with her eyes shut. But she neither noticed nor cared.

----

The month of March brought with it the termination of winter's reign for another year. It also came along with a large amount of planning, preparation and pressure. Mithlond was suddenly the center of elven attention, with many elves flocking west from Greenwood, Lothlórien, and Rivendell alike. The last few people to arrive were a group from Imladris consisting of Elrond II, Celebrían, Elladan, Elrohir, Elwing, Mandos and Lórien. Elrond I and Maglor, who were both in the haven already, came readily out to meet them. Elrond I had already gathered up all of his possessions for the long-awaited journey, but Maglor, it seemed, had not.

"I just didn't know whether I should or not," the lord of Mithlond confessed, shamefaced, as he stood in private before Elrond I and II and both Fëanturi. "Is it really my place to go back to Valinor? You all know what I was like when I left there, how I acted while I was in Middle-earth for the first long while, but now that I've been… redeemed, I'm just not sure anymore. I don't know, really, whether I deserve to even think of returning."

Mandos gave the former Kinslayer an almost tender smile as he replied, "The day I gave you redemption, I knew the matter would culminate for you here in due course. You have been granted liberty from your Oath of murder; the freedom to live as you once were long ago, in the years before you and your brothers made that promise, is now yours. Therein lies your answer, Maglor. I can assure you that you will be hailed as a great lord of elves, not as a slaughterer of them."

Besides that, he added mentally, it is exactly what Cirdan would have done.

Maglor bowed so lowly that the end of his nose almost brushed the ground. He couldn't possibly try to disagree with such a straightforward statement concerning his fate. "Thank you, my lord."

The Doomsman gently lifted him to a standing position, and clapped him on the shoulder with a cold, pale hand. "You had best hurry and pack your belongings – there is a lengthy voyage yet to take."

As the lord of Mithlond bowed again and hurried away, he reflected strangely that it had almost appeared as though Mandos, as he had spoken his last few words, had tipped him a very small and very fleeting wink.

----

"Elrond, you have certainly outdone yourself," said Elwing, as she stood gazing up at the ship that was to convey the elves to Valinor. Fashioned in the likeness of a great swan, its timbers gleamed white and silver in the evening sunlight. The prow was shaped like the swan's head, towering high above them all. Its beak had been painted gold, and its eyes glinted like a pair of black onyx stones. The tips of its wings had been painted silver, and the rest was like unsullied ivory.

Elrond I blushed modestly as he replied, "I may have outdone myself, but I'll never outdo the ones I learned from. Cirdan and Eärendil would certainly have done better – no doubt they have. This could never measure up to Vingilot."

"Eärendil would be proud to see this," his mother insisted, putting her arm around him. "I know he would. Have you given her a name yet?" she asked, referring to the ship.

"Maglor and I decided on a name quite a while ago," Elrond I answered, "but I wanted to wait until you were here to make it official. The ship's name will be Elwing."

The woman Elwing was silent for a moment, her silver-blue eyes awash with tears. "I am very touched, Elrond. Touched and honored. Thank you very, very much."

"You are most welcome," her son smiled fondly, brushing the tears gently from her face with his hand. "And now, my lady, I believe we should be setting off. It's time to say…" He faltered, uncertain of his aptitude to continue. Elwing quietly finished the sentence for him.

"Goodbye."

Nodding once and steeling himself with a careful breath, the elder half-elf turned around and mingled casually with the throng of elves, with his mother at his side. With nods and murmurs he encouraged his friends and family to come forth and board the ship. Kisses, embraces and tears were given freely, without discretion. Parents and children, brothers and sisters, distant relations and close friends all shared in this bittersweet time.

Elrond I calmly approached a group of his own close relatives; his younger self, his wife, children, mother- and father-in-law, son-in-law, and granddaughter. He smiled lovingly at them all as he addressed them, but he couldn't stop his tears from finally flowing.

"I understand that some of you will not be coming with us to the Undying Lands," he said softly, "and I want those few especially to know that no matter how many miles of earth, water or sky come between us, we will always be family. Love doesn't know distance; it doesn't know time, and it doesn't know death. As long as we have love, we will always have each other."

Then three elves out of the group came hesitantly forward: Celeborn, Elladan and Elrohir. They were the few that Elrond I had been speaking of, the few who were staying behind. The twins wore identical expressions of anguish and sorrow, and tears poured unheeded down their pale faces as their father embraced them. Celeborn, too, was deeply pained; he sobbed earnestly onto his son-in-law's shoulder. Then those three turned to others of their family, and received the same tender farewell.

But as all sweet things had their due endings, so that time of goodbyes had to come to a finale. Elrond I and II, Elwing, Galadriel, Celebrían, Arwen, Voronwë and Caranel II left their weeping kinsmen behind, and smiled faintly as they were joined by Maglor. Mandos and Lórien were nowhere to be seen; it appeared that they had already boarded the ship themselves. Together the eight elven companions also embarked Elwing and prepared for the ship's maiden voyage, just as Eärendil's star arose from the West, rivaling the fading sun with the radiance of his Silmaril.

Elrond I and II glanced sadly behind them, to where their twin sons and father-in-law still stood in silence, gathered together with all of the others who wouldn't be making the last journey into the West. The elder of the two sons of Elrond was now the second ruler of Imladris; his father's finest mithril circlet adorned his pale brow, and he stood up tall and proud as best befitted his lordship. But his grey eyes were still swimming with tears as he watched the ship vanish into the sunset's golden haze, gliding on a sea of silver glass.

----

Elrond I smiled to himself as he paced the deck of his ship, gazing up at the silver coin of the moon and the brilliant lamp of his father's star. The ship had only just passed out into the wide, dark waters of the Great Sea. A sweet melody drifted up and into Elrond's ears from belowdecks; Maglor must have been playing his harp. The half-elf turned, intending to join his kindred below, but he halted as Lórien swirled smoothly into view at his side.

"Good evening," the two friends greeted each other casually, and in unexpectedly perfect unity. They both also smiled and laughed at the same time. The Dream-lord was the first to break the strange concurrence. "How are you?"

"Perfectly fine, thank you," Elrond I smiled. "And yourself?"

"The same," the Vala smiled back.

Elrond nodded. "I'm glad to hear that."

They lapsed into a momentary silence, but then Elrond I gave an abrupt snort of laughter. His comrade frowned at him. "What is so amusing, may I ask?"

"I was just thinking," the half-elf replied, "about the day you and Lord Mandos first came to me. The evening before you arrived, I was telling my sons of how I'd felt that I hadn't done anything of importance in my lifetime. They insisted otherwise, giving me examples such as rescuing my wife from orcs beneath Caradhras, and bringing Andúril to Aragorn when he was most in need of it in the last of the wars with Sauron. But the strange thing is, most of the things I worried about then had nothing to do with this life. So really I was anxious about nothing."

"How very ironic," Lórien agreed. He glanced idly upward at the black sky, and noticed that Eärendil's star was about to vanish for another night. "You had better get on to bed, Elrond, it's late. I will be along shortly."

"Of course," Elrond I nodded, turning on his heel and moving toward the door leading to the barracks. He looked back for a moment before passing over the threshold, leaving the Dream-lord standing alone on the deck. But not for long: Mandos arrived in a shimmer of shadow, and his first words to his brother were, Have you told him yet?

Of course not, Lórien retorted. Why ruin the surprise?

Mandos nodded, satisfied, and smiled as his fellow Vala chuckled to himself aloud.

"Elrond, you poor fool," he sighed fondly. "If only you knew. 'One last adventure', hmm? Not likely, I'm afraid. Not likely at all."