# 39 Ship
Eärendil was shining brightly as he sailed the night sky in his ship Vingilot over Middle-earth. Often, he would look down upon the inhabitants as they went on with their life, but the one person he often looked upon was his only living son, Elrond. Elros had long since passed on, forever sundered from him and Elwing as he chose to be counted among the race of Men.
Frequently, Eärendil wondered if his son thought about him or if he remembered him and his mother. He wondered how things would have turned out if the sons of Fëanor had not sacked Sirion, and Elwing had not thrown herself into the sea. Would they still be a family, would the Valar have still intervened?
Sighing, Eärendil slowly made his way back toward Valinor. Before he was out of sight, he turned and looked back down one last time and there looking up at the night sky was Elrond, his beloved son. Eärendil smiled a sad smile as he knew it would be many long years before he would be reunited with him. Slowly he sailed out of sight. "Be safe, my son."
Elrond waved, and when his father was no longer visible, he turned and walked back in his house. "Until we meet again, Adar."
As he was getting ready for his day he thought about his father, wondering if he ever saw him from his mighty ship high above. Did he often think about him and would he be proud of the ellon he had become? Only time would tell, and all he could do was hope he was making his father proud.