NOTES: So it is implied that the Elf-friends sailed off to Numenor before Beleriand was destroyed, but some of the notes in the UT have their distant kin who are also descendants of Hador and Bëor living in parts of what would later be Arnor, so I decided to go with having them camped out there, after the destruction.

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The Sons of Eärendil

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Celebrimbor had departed again, and then after some years of growing up in peaceful living by the bay the king's distant nephews Elrond and Elros began to feel in their hearts the call to make their own journeys beyond the havens. Elrond had a passion for lore, and had been living by the shipyards with Círdan the Master Shipwright, who had been instructing him in the long histories of the elves and the elf-friends, and their kingdoms and journeys and wars and battles, and the wisdom that might be gleaned from those stories. But he had recently returned to the king's palace to visit his brother, who was less patient in such studies and more keen on athletics and combat and hunting and craftwork and all manner of active arts. One evening Elros found his brother in the courtyard gazing up at their father's bright ship Vingilot as it sailed over the northern skies.

"How are you liking your stay with the shipwright, brother?" he asked. Elrond was pulled from his wandering thoughts, which had been on the melancholy fate of their mother and father, and the tragic end of their grandparents' kingdoms.

"Very much," he replied with a smile. "It seems that no matter how many stories I record for my reference there is always more to hear and learn. I think there might never be an end to them, which would suit me well enough."

Elros snickered a little laugh. "You always were content to idle with your nose in the scrolls," he said.

Elrond furrowed his brow. "Why do you ask?" he replied. "Are you not content?"

"This realm and its peoples are lovely and peaceful, but I begin to grow weary of idling within the confines of these hills. Little have I seen of the lands east of the Blue Mountains," said Elros. "If we are to heed the wisdom of Galadriel and keep up with news of the wide world, should we not go and explore it? What do you say to a journey inland?"

Young Elrond was himself still quite at ease in the fair elf realm by the Gulf of Luhn, but his brother's eagerness stirred his own curiosity. He remembered Círdan's guidance not long before that along with learning in lore he also needed the teachings of experience before he could lead, and decided it best to indulge his brother's wanderlust. He nodded. "Yes, we should start exploring," he answered, "to learn what experience would teach us, and what news we might be able to find. Perhaps we might also find these other fair lands about which master Círdan has told us."

As it turned out some of the woodland elves who had been living in the hills nearby were planning a journey to visit their kin who had fled eastward before the great battle. They heard about the brothers' desire to venture inland and invited them to walk with their folk as far as they were willing. And so on a fine day in late spring the brothers set out with a large company of their elf friends past the reaches of the inlet.

They passed out of sight and hearing of the waters of the great bay, and came into view of grassy hills rolling out a long way before them like the tall waves of the sea. After they passed through the downs the company of elves went toward the south side of the rolling plains and along the edge of the great forest that bordered it. After a few days they veered northward again toward an island of woodland amid the open fields, and soon they came to an old hilltop clearing hidden within a thicket of underbrush and dense trees, where the elves had stopped many times in their travels over the ages. While their traveling company settled in for the night and sang and danced and refreshed themselves, Elrond caught sight of his brother wandering back out the secret path through the thicket, and stood up to follow him.

"It is late, brother, and very dark under this new moon. Where are you off to at such an hour?" Elrond asked when he caught up.

"I thought I saw something earlier, in the woods on the way here. Come! Let us inspect it. There may be some other folk about."

Elrond hesitated, looking back up the path toward their company. "Should we tell the others?" he asked.

"Do not worry," he said. "They are elves, and woodland elves at that. It is certain that at least one marked us leaving." A fair point, thought Elrond, and off they went into the night together.

In the shade of the trees with no light but small and faint gleam of the stars, Elros led the way, westward again for a while back the way they had come. After a while he veered north off the path. The night was growing old, and Elrond began to wonder where his brother was leading him, and if they weren't simply chasing ghosts in the woods.

It was the last hour before dawn when suddenly they heard the lonely baying of an animal break the still quiet air. It was answered by more such calls in the distance. The brothers turned toward the noises and headed in their direction. As they grew closer to the noises the sky was just beginning to lighten. But it was still dark when they came to a clearing and suddenly before them stood a large boar lumbering along the field, foraging its breakfast as the early morning mists were forming along the ground. The brothers stood hidden amid the trees and watched it for a while, feeling as if they were waiting on it for something.

Just then the cracks of snapping branches and crunch of dead leaves were heard faintly from somewhere in the trees and bushes away to their right. To the brothers' surprise the beast was shot through in the blink of an eye with a long sturdy arrow. But it was not quite a clean kill shot, and the creature squealed and ran a short distance before it began hobbling and panting over the field. Elros took pity on it, and stepped out into the open, pulling a large knife from his belt.

"No!" Elrond whispered nervously. They had no idea who made the shot, it could be a wandering band of trolls for all they knew. But no, dawn was breaking, and trolls would not be out at this hour. Unlikely to be Orcs, either, he thought, this far from the mountains. At last he stepped out and followed, and walked up to the site of the fallen beast, where his brother had already ended its suffering. Elrond crouched down next to him, inspecting the nock and fletching of the arrow.

Suddenly trotting up to them came a pack of large dogs. They surrounded the carcass, growling low at the two strangers squatting over it. Elros tightened his grip on the hilt of his knife. Elrond looked at them nervously, noticing to his relief that at least they were not wolves. But then Elros nudged his arm, and he looked up. Before them he saw that a shadowy figure draped in a dark cloak had stepped out into the clearing, holding up a large bow with an arrow trained on them.