The reflection in the mirror both revealed and hid his mixed blood. He was youthful, his ears pointed, his cheekbones particularly distinguishable as with most Elves, but he also looked more muscular and had a shorter build, common traits among Men.
He ran a hand, slender fingers with a wider palm, down his smooth, pale face. His eyes, dark but nondescript, were troubled and confused. His hair, as dark as his eyes, fell past his shoulders, just barely, and belonged to both halves of his heritage.
Elros was a Man and an Elf, both in looks and temperament. The world before him grew slowly, just as he did. He was for ever young, but at the same time he felt aged. The mirror could not show all of the conflict he now faced, given the choice between Ilúvatar's children.
As a child, he had always ignored someone when he heard whispers of him and his brother being labeled as 'Half-Elven.' He had never given thought to it, it seemed unimportant to his play. Maglor had never made comment or complaint of their mixed heritage, but taught them in the ways of Elves.
Neither he nor Elrond had given thought to having to choose between Elves and Men, but they had simply thought it made them different, that it was something to enjoy. Their friends would look at them in reserved awe, the way Men would gaze in wonder at the heavens and the dancing silver lights that were the dimmed radience of dying stars, and it was just something of which to bask in the glory.
Choices had always seemed so unimportant, the most dire he had ever had to make was which game he and Elrond would play that day, or which song he would ask Maglor to teach him, but now he faced a more difficult decision.
The Valar offered him death or life, and he had to choose. He was unsure of what to choose, for he was old among Men and so young among Elves, and his decision was blurred. He believed that if he chose to become a Man, his life would be over so soon, that death would come quickly; but he also worried that as an Elf that death would never come, or not quickly enough.
Instinctively he wanted to go to his brother to ask him for advice, but Elrond faced the same choice, and they had sworn not to reveal their decision to each other until they stood before the Valar and announced their fate to the world. They did not want to attempt to change each other's minds, but allow each to act a free agent on his own wishes without his brother's influence. And although Elros knew what they had promised, he also knew what Elrond's choice would be.
Yet still Elros wanted to turn to his brother, but knew he could not do that, and so looked for another way, and had found none. He had wanted to go to Glorfindel and ask him, or perhaps Gil-Galad, but no one before him seemed a wise place to seek an answer. He knew they would tell him to take the path of an Elf, and Elros knew that, though unspoken, Elrond expected him to take that road.
Though Elrond took that road, something held Elros back, for he was curious and brave. So still he stood in front of the mirror, reflecting, always reflecting. He could be found many days there, standing before the mirror, finding the Elf in him and the Man, and wondering who he should be.
Children do not face these decisions, and am I not a child? Elros would think to himself over and over. But ever would a little voice whisper in the back of his mind that for a Man he was an adult, even if for an Elf he still had seen so little that Elves should see.
Never before had he had to make such a difficult choice, one that tore away at him, leaving him wondering. Quite normally he and Elrond chose together what they were to play or sing, of how to spend their day; seldom did he have to choose for himself.
Yet still when he chose, none of his choices had ever left such a broken or cheerful on his brother's face as this one would, and none of them left him with inner turmoil even after they were made, but children don't make those kinds of decisions.
They grow, and they learn. The decisions become harder as they grow older as they begin to see more depth, when they see many possible routes and the decision has more choices. The decisions become more complex as they are full grown and see every possible angle. Those who are wiser see every result and consequence, the shades of grey, while the inexperienced children see no consequence, or perhaps only a few results, only the black and white of the world.
Elros remained undecided for as long as he could, having realized these truths, attempting to push them away, but they would always come back, just as he would always return to the mirror. Finally, though, in the end he chose what he thought in his heart would be best; and for his choice half of him wept despairingly at his fate, the other half cheered in triumph, but none of him was relieved that he was no longer undecided.
::A/N:: Disclaimer -- Elros doesn't belong to me, neither does LOTR.
Also, just so you know, there is canon evidence that Elves have pointed ears in Tolkien's world. I know it never says in The Hobbit, the Silmarillion, OR the Lord of the Rings, but in the fifth book of the History of Middle Earth series, it does, in fact, state that Elves have pointy ears.
Thought of the Day: It is a requirement to have lovely cheekbones to be an Elf.