This is a rather long chapter I admit, but I think it is one of my more well written ones; at least in my mind it is. Anyway, here I shall try to redress the rather cryptic ending to the previous chapter involving Elrond and his family.

Softly the green grass billowed in the bitter winter wind as the last vestiges of summer's foliage fell in autumn's coming. Of course the wind was always biting cold near the ocean, Elrond nearly forgot that- being in Rivendell for so long he had forgotten what it was like to live beside its ever churning waves and biting breezes. The whine of the white mare beside him brought his eyes to the silver hair of his wife, he smiled at how peaceful she seemed in that moment, gazing upon the Tower Hills where the land of men ended and the world of the elves began again. Of course he knew she was slightly timid of entering the land of Lindon; for there it was said the song of the sea was stronger than by Balar, where she had spent the last few decades of her maidenhood. With her waking eyes she had never seen the last pieces of Beleriand and if she were truly honest with herself her heart trembled as the very song of the stones was incomplete…like the songs her father sang.

Rambunctious laughter entered the ears of the Elven Lord and Lady as their twin sons had just finished telling a rather lewd joke to Glorfindel and Erestor, the later blushed at their impropriety, especially in his learned presence. Their mother laughed with her hearthy laugh that rang as a bronze bell ringing in the springtime, bringing a smile to her husband's face which faded quickly as they had passed unhindered into Lindon, passing under the Gate of Mithlond, which stood as a simple arched beam of stone cut from the mountain and bore runes of the ancient land reading "The End and the Beginning of All Journeys, Welcome Traveler to the Land of Song "…

"What troubles you husband? I thought this trip would do you good, seeing old friends and your old home again…"

"It is Celebrian…It's just…I never thought I would return here until a long time had passed…"

"One thousand years is long enough Elrond…even to the elves."

Reaching from where she sat upon her steed the she-elf winked to her husband, giving him strength to wipe worry from his face, he continued on another subject as though he did not wish to speak again of the cryptic message sent by the lord of the land they had just entered,

"Have you spoken with Arwen yet? About her…outburst."

"I did not have to…it is clear why she acts so…"

" Apparently dear wife you have a sight beyond my own…"

"Of course I do, I see her not as a doting father but as her mother, or at least how my own mother related to me…she questions her position and the duality within it."

"Duality? Never wife have I ever been duplicitous in my dealings in Imladris."

The elven lord became rather angered at that last statement, so much so that the term wife seemed to bite upon his tounge as though it were a word of insult than a loving endearment. His wife however, and rather diplomatically spoke in a firmer tone,

"I did not mean to imply that you were a hypocrite Elrond, only to look at the world you live in as your daughter sees it. Everyday you surround yourself with advisors of Noldorin blood, the books in your library are filled with the Tengwar of Feanor, written by Noldorin historians, physicians and philosophers and the banner of Gil-galad hangs high in your Hall of Fire…and yet your daughter is told everyday she looks more and more like her ancient grandmother; by her maids and cooks that she bears the eyes of Luthien and Nimloth…yet these people are not in your books, these people have no voice in your songs…she, like you, is only half fulfilled…is it any wonder why Elladan called his own people common elves"

At that moment Elrond saw that he angered his wife, for her voice grew rushed as his had become, yet as he was going to speak the guards before them called out to him,

"My Lord, we have arrived!"

Turning to face him he saw upon a gray horse sat a person he had not seen in many years and shock came to his face as he saw something unexpected, for the ancient elf that sat before him bore a full grown beard upon his chin of silken white hair that matched the braided tresses falling from his circlet crowned head. The elf wore simple garb, like a sailor in his truest fashion, yet round his shoulders he wore a faded blue robe that seemed ages old. The hale voice came from the ancient elf with the youth of his people, though now it lay heavy with wisdom,

"Elen sila lumen omentielvo Elrond Peredhel"

"It is good to see you again Hir Cirdan"

"I see you have taken the Common tongue as your own Elrond…So it shall be with me."

The two laughed as the took each other's arm in friendship and as they spoke the ancient elf's eye came upon the rest of Elrond's family who had uncloaked their faces and whose gray eyes looked about them as the sounds of flutes entered the noontime sky,

"Alas forgive me, I did not introduce…"

"It is quite alright Peredhel, I was not expecting you to bring them if I must be honest…But you are all welcome…"

And as though he had known them all their lives he greeted each one by name and with a warm embrace, he even astonished the twins by calling them by their correct names without flaw. When at last he came to their mother he looked kindly upon her and said in a low whisper,

"Greetings Celebrian, I know why you have come…speak with me when all has been said, then we shall have more time to talk."

Yet dinner came later in the evening than any of the Rivendell Elves had anticipated. Already the sun had set and the moon reached near the pinnacle of the sky when the meal was set for eating. Into the great hall of Cirdan they were brought- the tree-like columns reached high into the domed ceiling spreading their stone branches to the gray walls where hung great tapestries and lamps from smaller cypress-shaped stands, made of darkened silver and wood. Blue and violet banners, lined and embroidered with silver hung to the right of the hall, which was shaped like the prow of a ship, the center being the Throne of the Shipwright, which lay vacant. To the left hung banners of scarlet-red and blue, embroidered with gold; and to many eyes these could be seen as the greatest of craft for they seemed to sparkle as the sun-lit streams that flowed through Imladris. In the center however was a simple banner of silver and bronze embroidery that lay upon a field of gray and blue, the tip of it fell above the Throne of the Shipwright, and upon its edge was sewn a silver ship set before white gull wings that flew through sea-green sea foam. The ancient lord laughed as one of the twins remarked saying,

"Never in my life have I felt so hungry…I thought supper was meant to be at sundown."

To which Cirdan of the Haven replied,

"Alas young ellon, in Imladris perhaps it is so, yet here upon the shores the nights are for resting with fine company and to be with family…and the days are for working in the far off seas, just one hour hence the last boats arrived from their exploits."

"Just now Cirdan? Gil-galad would have had a fit if he were to know that the ships came in at dusk!"

"Ah yes, but Erenion was a lover of the daylight and expected his shops to be open in the morning, but you forget how many Sinda still live on the southern shore, and how many choose to eat and work beneath the setting sun when the stars are visible."

At that point they sat and before them was brought forth a vast and diverse meal caught fresh from the sea, as well as herbs, and vegetables grown upon the palisades on the warmer Harlindon soil. Before them was also spread wine of ancient vintage, bearing the mark of Forlindon from the second age of the world. Elrond smiled as he looked upon the bottle; clearly the ancient elf had made the menu for the evening. And at the beginnings of the meal no word of business transpired as laughter filled the hall of Cirdan even up to its top-most rafters. Surrounding them sat many lords of both the Northern and Southern shores, with the table of Cirdan and Elrond in between them. To the young Elrohir it was remarkable how the two areas surrounding him acted so differently fromone another. To the left, the meal was eaten in silence and proper hushed voices, indicative of the many courtly meals he had eaten in his father's home and yet to the left laughter blasted forth as from a trumpet and great heavy lungs let out boisturous sounds of merriment. And in the middle where he sat a small private conversation transpired between his father and the ancient shipwright, one that he had caught the tail end of,

"Perhaps, she could take a look at your great library?"

"Alas Peredhel, I would be honored to allow your daughter such a privilege, however I am sorry to say much of my…more Telerin texts are too few and in poor condition for a girl studying history…old maps and ship charts…though I believe young Arwen I do have something that may peak your interest in your Grandmother's people…"

"That is most gracious of you Hir Cirdan, but I could not…"

"Nonesense! Galdor!"

A young elf came rushing to the Shipwright's side, nervous he seemed, to have been called by the Shipwright himself. Bowing to Elrond and Celebrian he straightened his back and then bent down to Cirdan's whispering mouth which was covered by the youth's long hazel-hued hair. He bore silver garments that seemed a bit big for him and the Lady of Imladris noted that something familiar about their embroidery struck a deep-set memory. The youth whisked away and returned moments later carrying two large books, both of which were encased in a shimmering dull blue leather embossing; handing them to the Shipwright he bowed silently and walked to his place beside a ruddy haired Noldor upon the right table who bore a smug grin upon his face, patting the youth upon his stern shoulders. Placing his hand firmly upon the ledgers he spoke in his ancient form of voice, as though what he had held were sacred to him alone,

'Now young Lady Arwen…these are the personal ledgers of the Captain of the Tower Guard. They are of no use to me now for they are well over ten years old, but the one who wrote them had a knack for documenting the lives of the mariners who served with him upon the sea…and in them I believe you may catch a glimpse of your great matron's life, for the one who wrote them…Is of her kin by time and place…"

He spoke those last few words as though it was a hushed and guarded secret; his gaze fell upon the ruddy haired elf at the head of the right table and he stroke his beard as he passed them to the young she-elf as hidden from view as he could manage. As the meal ended and the last noble families left by ferry or by horse to their lands, and as the servants cleared the tables from the grand hall, the Lord of Mithlond and the Lord and Lady of Imladris walked to a small corridor behind the Throne of the Shipwright, which in the moonlight shimmered as a pearl upon its bed of muscle and shell. The corridor lead to a chamber filled with large hanging maps and dimly lit lanterns which illuminated books bound in red, blue, green and every other color imaginable that could ever be placed upon leather. To the western edge of the study grew a large ancient cypress that jutted out to a balcony which opened to a view of the harbor beneath and straight forward one could gaze the end of the Gulf of Lune, miles away, where four lamps blazed atop the high cliffs of broken mountains. At first they sat in silence gazing at the starlit harbor until Elrond at last spoke, unsure at first of what he should say,

"I wish to thank you for you gracious welcome, Hir Cirdan…you needn't have bothered with such a grand reception…"

"Would you have done less were I to visit you in Imladris?"

"I suppose not…I…"

"The message I sent to you was meant to be cryptic Elrond…as this very dinner, though in great part due to your return to friendly lands, was a means of secret planning and was for all intents made to elude one who should remain blind to our dealings, business or not."

Both Celebrian and Elrond looked upon one another puzzled as the shoulders of the Shipwright eased and his eyes glittered in the light of the crescent moon that hung low in the sky. He spoke again, recalling a voice of a lord who seemed beleaguered by warfare…

"Peace may be ever present upon my shores, and no strife has yet to escalade to violence, yet there is a silent war in my lands Elrond…and I, am the one being attacked."

"That cannot be…you are loved by all here upon the gray shores, who would dare threaten you?"

"The very elf who saw me give that message for you to Gildor, Cullofea of the Northern Shores…He is good at heart Elrond, he cares for his people and for the lands he possesses well…yet ever is he in this city, planning against my designs for a more unified Lindon, against a place where Sinda and Noldo can work side by side and not quarrel over the rights to fish in the harbor, or the wood in the forests. To him the old ways of Noldor supremacy in culture, politics and government are pure, as they were under Caranthir his ancient lord…and to a lesser extent under Erenion."

"I admit Cullofea was rather hard on the Sindar in Erenion's kingdom, but he has always been demanding of perfection…"

"Yet now Peredhel, he has a mind of lordship and through his very distant relations desires to take his seat upon the throne of Erenion himself…"

"How could he! He is a base elf for all I know!"

"Compared to your mother and father Lady Celebrian yes…yet in these darkening times, when many, especially in Forlindon cry for a King again…his distant relation to Caranthir through his mother's cousin gives him at least one right…the right to be called a Prince of the Noldor, of the blood of Feanor himself!"

"It is blasphemy for him to consider himself such! The Kingship of the Noldor passes to Finarfin and Fingolfin's lines first due to the oath Maedhros took, in apology for the leaving of Fingolfin's people to march through the Helcaraxe!"

At this Celebrian became flustered, her face flushed with anger and he hands tensed as she wished at that moment to lay her hands upon that smug smile…often she heard her mother tell her of the crossing of that plain of ice, and how many died along the way, alone and without hope…Elrond placed his arms around his wife, easing her tension, looking upon the ancient elf he spoke in a hushed voice,

"And you have sought my aid…"

"Naturally…I cannot hold off his political attacks with the same ease as I once did…I am no longer the benevolent lord who took in refugees, now I am as much a politician as he is…he would not dare attack me when Erenion was alive, or when…Celebrin was at my side… for who would dare attack my position when the very High King of the Noldor and the Sickle of Doriath reminded them of their folly in Beleriand. Yet now…with both gone he says I am no longer fit to lead the Noldor in Lindon and they are under his province as Chief Regent of mainly Noldorin lands."

"Yet what can we do? I am Lord of Imladris not of Lindon!"

"Unless…you were to return to Forlindon and take up the seat Erenion left open for you, as his adopted heir and Prince of the elves by the sea…And you Lady Celebrian, as his Princess would bring more right to rule in your direct descent from the royal bloodlines of Finwe and Elwe. Both of you have the ability to ease the tense peace here upon the shore…"

Shock spread upon Elrond's face and Celebrian wore a look of worry upon her face as the very thought rolled through her mind, and for a brief moment she enjoyed seeing herself in a position that her mother had longed dreamed of, holding lands of her own…yet the dream she shattered and returned to the present where the ancient elf looked upon them wise, noble and yet worried…

"You know I would not ask this of you both unless I was in dire need…If Cullofea succeeds in bringing all Noldor under his banner, whatever influence I have gained in the Council of Lindon will be shattered and he will break Forlindon from the South…taking with him the prized harbors and control of more than half of the Gulf of Lune…The Teleri, my…our people, will struggle in lands that were once fully theirs…that for the greater part of these past ages they shared…yet even they are not fully blameless, many have chosen to enact tactics similar to Cullofea to bar the Noldor from using their farm lands and their woods…yet they have chosen to hold back these measures for loyalty to me, in hopes that I could bargain with Cullofea to allow free usage of the harbors, woods, and Gulf. Yet my time in their patience is ending swiftly…even the Teleri will not linger forever."

At this Elrond sighed, he had grown tired and the lateness of the hour came upon him harder than he had originally anticipated. Cirdan, as desperate as he was in that hour, lead them to their lodgings beside the calm sea, and with what skills he possessed gave them a calm sleep free from worry, yet when they woke late the next day husband and wife dwelled upon the matters which the Lord of Mithlond had related to them…

Elrond, Prince of Lindon: As the Grandson of Dior, Elrond may be, as Celeborn, in line to the throne of the Sindar, however, as greater writers before me have related it is probable that the Sindar, like their Green-elf cousins, never again took a king after their kingdom was destroyed, that and being raised by Maedhros, Maglor, and Erenion may not hold him in good stead with his mother's people. And as for Elrond being in the line for Prince of the Noldor and by extension Lindon, through his close association with Erenion who had no children seemed somewhat natural and is merely this writer's imagination. The same goes for Cullofea Helkatil, there is no mention of him anywhere and he is a part of my own musings... Please do not flog me.

Thanks again to all those who have written reviews, you remain dear to me. thank you