Part Two: Remembrances

For years beyond mortal count, the sky beyond the Ephel Duath had been dark and ominous, often colored red with the fiery explosions of Mt. Doom. Now, however, the sun rose over the mountains uninhibited, and although dark clouds hovered in the distance, they promised rain, not the wrath of a Dark Lord.

Of course, there were very few left in Gondor who remembered the Shadow of Sauron. One hundred and twenty years had seen much change in Middle-earth – especially in the realms of Men. They grew ever stronger while the Elven realms faded.

With a sigh, Elladan leaned against the battlements atop the bastion of stone that jutted like the bow of a ship out of the White City. His eyes traveled from the sunrise slowly down across the Pelennor to the walls of Minas Anor. The Great Gates of the City had opened to allow the emergence of a single rider, whose dark hair, unadorned by braids or jewels, fluttered like a banner in her haste. The horse, of the breeding of Rohan, flew as the wind across the plain, heading North – to the woods of Lothlórien, if Elladan were to hazard a guess, where none now walked, and the fading mallyrn stood in silence.

Elladan's gaze followed the figure of his sister until she vanished even from Elven sight. When he could see her no longer, he remained where he was and watched the city slowly come to life. Everything was subdued, as the people of Gondor appeared to be trying to grasp the reality of Elessar's passing.

Aragorn's loved ones, too, seemed to be moving in a daze. Elladan turned from the sunrise as he heard the light, almost silent footsteps of an Elf approaching. Legolas joined him without a word, light grey eyes sweeping over the Pelennor, lingering on the Anduin's Southern course, where, leagues away, it emptied into the Sea. "You will answer the call of the gulls, now?" Elladan asked.

Legolas nodded. "Aye. And Gimli will go with me." He looked from the South to Elladan. "There is room aboard for you and Elrohir."

"Thank you, but Elrohir and I will not sail just yet. Our folk await us in Imladris," Elladan replied. Legolas nodded understandingly. A few of his folk still dwelt in Ithilien, but most would sail with him within the next few days. "Do you wish for us to go by way of Eryn Lasgalen and take a message to your Adar?"

"Thank you; I think I will take you up on that." Legolas smiled gratefully. "When do you plan to depart?"

"Tomorrow morning. There is little to keep us here any longer." It was a sore blow to Eldarion and his sisters, but Elladan could no longer ignore the call of the Sea that sang to him constantly.

The day passed slowly and quietly. Elladan kept to himself, and spent most of the afternoon packing his things, dreading the rising of the sun, when he and Elrohir would say farewell to their mortal kin, and depart from Minas Anor for the last time.

Not long after the evening meal, Eldarion's son Elendur found Elladan. He stood in the doorway, an envelope in his hands. "Elendur," Elladan greeted him. "What brings you here?" The boy seemed unsure of what he wanted to say, and so Elladan waited patiently.

At sixteen, Elendur was all awkward arms and legs, not yet having fully grown into his height. His hair seemed to always appear as though he had just rolled out of bed, and he was often found in the library, nose buried in a book or scroll. That was where he had been the past day or so, Elladan thought, trying to distract himself from grief.

Finally, Elendur blurted, "I know it sounds a bit childish, but…this is for Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrían." He held out the envelope. Bemused, Elladan took it.

"What is it?"

"Drawings, mostly," Elendur replied. "Most of them are Ada's – portraits of everyone. I drew some, too, and there are also letters." He was bright red now. "I thought perhaps they would want to see that we are all happy and well."

Elladan smiled. "This is a wonderful gift, Elendur. I am sure they will enjoy it immensely." Elendur grinned, clearly relieved that his idea would be well-received. Elladan carefully packed the envelope away, wondering just which drawings Elendur and Eldarion had seen fit to include.

Then the grin faded, and Elendur said quietly, "I wish you did not have to leave."

Elladan sighed. "We made promises many years ago, Elendur, after the War of the Ring was ended. Our promises to Estel and Arwen have been kept, and it is now time for us to keep our promise to our Adar." He looked around the room, at the tapestries on the walls, at the elegantly carved furniture, the beautifully sculpted doorways and windows. "The world is changing, Elendur. You are too young to have known Imladris or Lothlórien during the time of the Three Rings, when they were preserved from the ravages of time. Now that the Three have sailed, Lothlórien stands empty, and Imladris, too, will fall silent when the last of us depart for the Havens.

"There is little left for us here, and the longer we linger, the more bitter the leave taking will be. It is the Age of Man, now, and my heart tells me that it will last far longer than did the days of the Eldar."

Elendur's brow creased. "I will still miss you." Elladan only nodded in agreement. There was little to be said to ease the pain of a parting as permanent as this. Saying farewell to Elrond had not been nearly as painful, for Elladan and Elrohir had known they would see him again in a relatively short amount of time. But, as had been so with Estel and Arwen, saying good bye to Elendur, Eldarion, and their families would be forever. Perhaps it was because of his mortal blood, but even Elladan could not comprehend forever. Certainly, mortal Men could not.

Maybe, Elladan thought, the inability to comprehend Eternity was what made it so painful. He sighed, and put his arm around Elendur's shoulders. "Come, let us rejoin our family." Just one more evening, and then Elladan and Elrohir would begin their last journey through Middle-earth.