Fatherhood
Tobi is a good boy
I do not own the works of JRR Tolkien
-Earendil-
Once, long ago, he had held his sons.
The memory to him seemed soft, as if he could feel the warm swaddling clothes beneath his fingertips.
They were twins, alike and yet different.
The elder, Elros, seemed to be more mischievous and had a quick temper.
The younger, Elrond, was more thoughtful and often just gazed above at the stars. As if the babe knew where his fate would lead him: to look upon his sons from the heavens.
He could not protect them from the designs of Melkor, nor could he prevent the Sons of Feanor holding his sons captive.
Anger burned in his heart as he thought of that wretched day, when his sons were taken, taken from their home.
From him.
From their birth-father.
Other ellon would step into that role for him and become fathers to his sons. They would never know him, other than to perhaps glimpse him at night.
It was his fate, to be separated and yet to be part of their world, overlooking them from above.
He was a story, and they were his sons.
How could he ever be a father to them?
Elros had chosen the Fate of Man and had passed into the halls of Mandos long ago. It pained him to know that he could never look upon his eldest son again, and that his children's children should pass into Mandos's halls as the years passed.
Long ere had he thought that Elrond, too, had chosen to be man. It seemed to him, unlikely, given Elrond's temperament as a babe.
However, as the years passed since Elros's death, and Elrond still did not face the doom of man.
He was certain now, in his heart of hearts.
Elrond had chosen to be Elven-kind. He had chosen to be one of the Eldar.
His son would eventually sail to the Undying Lands.
Perhaps, Elrond would greet him there on the shore line.
And he could clasp his son to his breast once more, and keep his child safe.
Onwards, he sailed, only to be seen to the onlooker as a shining star.