The darkness was warm and fragrant. Elrond slowly rose and rubbed the sleep from his eyes before scanning the tent. He saw a dark figure sprawled atop a bedroll. His son had enjoyed himself during the evening. Elrond stood silently, grabbing his towel and other accouterments. A soak in the waters of the Mitheithel would do him well. His sons always referred to the river as the Hoarwell, its name in Westron, as did the Rangers. But Mitheithel rolled beautifully from the tongue. He yawned. Apparently, his encounter with Maglor had drained him more than he realized, for he had slept the day and night away. "Maglor," his heart rose at the name of his protector from childhood. How many years had he agonized and wondered about the elf's fate? Life was circuitous now – with faces from long ages ago resurfacing in his dreams. He stepped out of the tent and was greeted by the slight blush of the predawn sky. Elrond waved at Cirulian, lifting his towel and clothes to express his destination. The Teleri nodded. The enticing music of the rushing water guided him to the Hoarwell's banks. No one else was about, apart from Cirulian, who was discrete. Elrond filled his wooden pail from the Hoarwell's water. Then, he stripped and splashed briefly in the river before climbing ashore, picking up his bucket, and walking a little back from the river behind a welcoming willow tree to soap up. Then he rinsed himself off, taking care that the suds soaked into the soil instead of meandering towards the river. It was a natural precaution. With so many of them traveling, allowing their grey water to soil the Hoarwell would be unwise. Too many people downstream relied on the river.
'Do no harm,' was the first tenant of healer training. Elrond squeezed the water from his hair, satisfied that it did not hold much soap residue, and walked back to the river.
"Rejoice, rejoice, rejoice!" The river burbled and frothed along its banks. Its song was wild, jubilant, and free as the water rushed downwards, guided on its journey by mysterious and mystic forces that endowed the waters with joy. He sighed quietly as he entered the water. The crystal mountain water was naturally brisk. It welcomed him as he crouched then leaned back to dip his head into the water. The sky reeled and disappeared from his vision as the water rushed possessively around him.
"Come West Elrond." The seductive cry of the sea ebbed and flowed around him. The tide buffeted his body, caressing his cheek like a lover. He sunk deeper, allowing the sea to fill him with its desire.
"I am coming." He promised. His lungs burned, reminding him that he was under the water. He pushed upward, breaking the surface and thrusting up into the air. Then he stood, breaking the water's connection. The water droplets slid enticingly along his torso like sweet touches of beloved fingers.
"Elrond," Glorfindel's voice broke through the fog. "Not thinking of swimming to the sea, I hope? The ship does not sail from Lond Daer but from Mithlond." The golden Vanya smiled teasingly, then threw him a towel.
"I do believe that Aragorn plans to renew the shipyards at Lond Daer." Elrond smiled as he caught the towel and quickly wrapped it around his torso as he stepped from the river. "But it will be years until the population of Gondor grows large enough to consider such endeavors."
"If that occurs, I will be sure to visit before I take the ship West." He handed Elrond a tunic and leggings, then motioned to him. "Sit, for I wish to reassure myself that you are no mere apparition." The Vanya took the towel and vigorously rubbed at the silken locks before moving to comb them methodically. "You can give in to the longing. You have been holding back for too many years."
"Then I might be overcome and not reach the sea." Glorfindel laughed in disbelief at Elrond's statement. A small sigh slipped from the Peredhel at the simple pleasure of having his hair combed. Elves needed the closeness of their people. The drop of Maiar heritage in his veins gave him a greater longing for connection to others, but fate had often induced abscissions. He thanked Eru for the gift of the golden warrior's abiding love and friendship.
"Yes, you would not want to stare off into space like Erestor." Glorfindel's voice was louder than necessary.
"We have little choice once the sea longing overcomes us." An offended Erestor retorted, but his voice had an undertone of anguish. Elrond turned. His councilor held a tray with breakfast items and bent to place them beside him. Dark eyes filled with pain met silver.
"We are journeying to the sea. It is fine to give into the longing." Elrond coaxed as he grabbed Erestor's hand.
"I dare not, for I may not find my way back." Erestor had never come to Elrond for help. The Lord of Imladris had been suffering from the sea longing for hundreds of years. Surely, Erestor could wrestle with the longing and persevere for a handful of years.
"Most elves sail quickly once the longing is upon them." Elrond paused.
"But not you. Legolas also plans to stay, although he hears the call." Erestor stepped away.
"You know I have spoken long with Legolas about dealing with the longing. I hope that it will not become unbearable."
"He will come to me if it gets to that point." Glorfindel held back a smile at Erestor's look of surprise. The chief councilor looked back and forth between the two. "I know things that will help."
"Glorfindel helped me also. You are not alone. Giving in briefly to the longing helps keep it at bay, especially as we journey towards the ship. Do you not trust me?" Elrond looked squarely at his friend and held his hand out. Erestor nodded. They walked forward to sit on the banks of the river, dipping their feet into its water. Erestor moaned at the contact. "Close your eyes." Elrond instructed quietly. "I will be with you as we seek the song of the sea together. There is much to rejoice in. We are called." Erestor felt the healer's song engulf and strengthen him. Elrond's calm voice floated in his mind when he would have pulled away. The longing was a flash - an intense burst of pain. "Let us greet the sea together." Soothing warmth flowed into him, which was characteristic of the singular healer. Their spirits were swept away in the rushing water. Glorfindel watched them closely, noting how Erestor relaxed as the two elves sought the song of the sea, bound in meditation. Elrond looked far too pale for the Vanya's liking but was still every inch the formidable elven Lord of Imladris. He would not gainsay the noted healer even though privately, he feared for his welfare. Minutes passed slowly. In the background, the camp was springing to life as elves ate their morning meal, began to dismantle tents, and prepare for their departure. Footsteps behind him included Elrohir and, if his ears did not deceive, Erestor's wife Gwidian. He turned to assuage their fears.
"Fair morning." Glorfindel greeted them with a bright smile. Elrohir was dressed and carried what could only be a healing draught for his Adar.
"What is happening?" Gwidian was fearful, for she knew how her beloved suffered under the longing.
"Elrond is tutoring Erestor in how to give into the sea longing without losing oneself. They shall be back among us shortly." Indeed, he could see that Erestor was beginning to stir. Elrond was still pale and in what, to the untrained eye, resembled a healing trance. Elrohir placed his hand on his father's shoulder. The simple act was an anchor acting to call the other back. Across from them, the councilor's dark brown eyes blinked dazedly as his spouse caressed his cheek.
"Gwidian?" Surprise filled his voice as his beloved reached out through their bond.
"The longing, it has receded." Gwidian smiled in delight.
"Not receded but brought in check by acknowledging it." A broad smile brightened his visage. "Soon, we will be standing at the shore, and as our friend Bilbo says, ready for our next adventure." His wife agreed as she held his hand. Both were smiling as Elrond's eyes slowly focused.
"Le fael Mellon-nin. (Thank you my friend.)" Erestor bowed his head in reverence.
"No thanks are needed. It was my honor to help." Elrond said softly as his son passed him a cup of tea.
"You are far too generous, Elrond." Erestor slowly shook his head. Gwidian passed them bowls of cracked wheat porridge sweetened with fruit and nuts. Though now cool, both Erestor and Elrond accepted them gratefully.
"I have gathered your pack. Cirulian was bringing Celthúl. But perhaps you should ride with me this morning, Adar." Elrohir suggested.
"I feel like songs this morning. If you could locate my harp." Elrond smiled reassuringly, then sipped the draught and took a small bite of the porridge. "The sea awaits us."
"So it does." Galadriel floated regally over. "What melodies spring from your memory, Earendilion?"
"Ancient ones that Cirdan used to sing to us." Silver eyes glowed while a slow smile spread over the usually too-somber face. So, the morning passed on horseback with the former Lord of Imladris strumming ancient melodies on a silver harp surrounded by singers whose memories reached back into those ancient times. Lindir, Elrohir, and their contemporaries marveled at the lilting Sindarin and stirring Telerin in the sea tunes that were nearly unrecognizable to their ears. The days passed swiftly as the elves traveled the old roads past Bree. Elrond and his son, at times, sought solitude for mediation. Elrond shared methods for gleaning remnants of the Ainulindalë in the melody of the trees and helped Elrohir adjust to his newly awoken Maiar traits. Finally, they came to the outskirts of the Shire. Just past the green hills, the elves heard a new song float towards them on the breeze.
"Still round the corner there may wait
A new road or secret gate"
"Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee await us." Galadriel intoned to her spouse. Celeborn gave a signal. Once Frodo's song ended, Gildor's tune began in answer.
"A! Elbereth Gilthoniel!
silivren penna miriel
o menel aglar eleneth
Gilthoniel! A! Elbereth! (1 Tolkien's words)
Sam and Frodo watched the elves ride past. So many were leaving! Master Elrond signaled them forward.
"May a stars shine upon the hour of our meeting." Elrond fingered his harp and bid the hobbits welcome. "We are honored by your company." Frodo and Sam coaxed their ponies forward to join Master Elrond.
"Well Master Samwise," the Lady Galadriel began as she pulled near on her white palfrey. "I hear and see that you have used my gift well. The Shire shall now be ever blessed and beloved." (1 Tolkien's words) Sam bowed at the waist but was tongue-tied. The Lord Celeborn greeted them both before motioning behind them. Following behind on a grey pony rode Bilbo half asleep.
"Hullo Frodo!" He said. "Well, I have passed the Old Took today! So that's settled. Now I think I am quite ready to go on another journey! Are you coming?" (1 Tolkien's words) Elrond, Galadriel, and Celeborn joined the others in singing a hymn to Elbereth. In this small way they sought to preserve the hobbits privacy, for Sam was distraught at the revelations.
"Master Gamgee should not have to make the journey back alone." Elrond was concerned. Perhaps he could ask his son or Glorfindel to look after the noble hobbit.
"There is no need to fear." Galadriel smiled slyly. "Mithrandir will not be alone when he rejoins us." Elrond waited for further explanation, but none was forthcoming. Nonplussed, he turned back to his harp, joining in the melody that Lindir led from afar. They traveled past the outskirts of the Shire all evening and into the night. At times, each hobbit took their rest by joining one of the elves on their horses. Yet the elves were called. The sea longing drove them forward, banishing weariness and focusing them with a singleness of mind on their destination. For many, a great sigh of relief was audible as they passed the Towers and looked upon the sea in the distance. The melody of the sea heartened many who suffered under the longing. Several days later, they approached the Gulf of Lhûn. It was a vast expanse. An official welcome party from the Havens approached, though it was still miles to the docks where the ships were berthed. Lord Elrond, Lady Galadriel, and Lord Celeborn stepped forward to talk with a tall elf with a white beard.
"That is Cirdan the Shipwright." Elrohir leaned over to whisper to Frodo and Bilbo. "I should help organize our people into smaller groups."
"Whatever for?" Bilbo asked.
"Would you not prefer to sleep in a bed for a few nights? We can not all stay at one house." Erestor cheerfully explained.
"Our group will stay at Lord Cirdan's house while the others will spend the next few days in lodgings further down in the Havens or in and around the Gulf of Lhûn. Our numbers are too great to burden a single host." Gwidian added.
"I release my charge to you, Erestor." Glorfindel smiled cheekily as he dismounted. "It is your duty to keep him safe on the passage and beyond."
"Who is your charge, Lord Glorfindel?" Frodo asked curiously.
"It has been my honor to be a friend to Master Elrond for more than an age of this world." Glorfindel sketched an exaggerated bow and then stroked Asfaloth's mane. The horse nickered happily.
"But is he not a healer and has been safely ensconced in Rivendell?" Frodo mused. "That does not seem like too dangerous."
"You would be surprised," Glorfindel said. "But I dare not divulge any information, especially as Erestor and Cirulian have graciously agreed to accompany all of you west."
"I propose we survey the kitchens." Bilbo intervened. "I have heard tale that the dishes of the Teleri are like no others."
"That is well stated." Erestor agreed as he helped Bilbo to dismount. Gwidian smiled and led Frodo forward. "Are you coming, Glorfindel?"
"You are not staying with Elrond?" Glorfindel teased Erestor.
"He is in Cirdan's company at our destination by the sea. What could possibly happen?" Erestor laughed. Elrond looked up from where he was talking with Cirdan. His brow raised in question.
"There are refreshments on the veranda for those who wish." Cirdan directed with a sweep of his arm. "I trust you all know the way." Glorfindel, Erestor, and Gwidian waved and led their small company towards the kitchens. Galadriel and Celeborn climbed the stairs with Elrohir, but Elrond looked out towards the ocean.
"I would like a short walk first." Elrond looked to Cirdan momentarily. The Mariner nodded, instantly knowing that Elrond wished to speak privately. Cirulian followed them, assuming his customary role as Elrond's guard. Along the shoreline, in soft and diplomatic words, Elrond described his meeting with Maglor to one of the few left who had understood their relationship. Only Cirdan's great age and experience helped him to keep an unreadable visage at these surprising revelations.
The others receded to the palatial abode that had welcomed visitors of the highest importance for millennia. "Why would my Maiar heritage be stirred now?" Elrohir mused. "Soon, there will no longer be Maiar in these lands."
"Mithrandir passes away, as does your Adar." Galadriel began softly. Celeborn continued.
"But Radagast remains and perhaps one of the blue wizards." Celeborn saw Elrohir tense and reached to grasp his shoulder in support. His Adar had suffered at the hands of what they believed had been one of the blue wizards. "Also, who knows if anything yet remains hidden in the tunnels of Moria or Mordor or the arid lands of Harad. Arwen and your gifts may be needed in the coming transition. I will remain to aid you."
"For your presence, Daeradar, I am truly thankful." Elrohir turned to his Galadriel. "I know well how difficult separation can be – how difficult it was for Adar when Naneth sailed."
"We pray to find her whole and well on the shores of the West." Galadriel rose and kissed her grandson on the brow. The wind picked up suddenly. She saw her grandson stiffen. "What do you sense, Elrohir?"
"A new song approaches – a Maia is coming." Elrohir shivered, his silver eyes suddenly glassy as he turned to face the shore. He saw his Adar standing on the beach with Cirdan and Cirulian. Elrond was looking out over the ocean.
"Go to him," Galadriel ordered. No further word was necessary. Elrohir bounded down the steps and out onto the sand. Out on the beach, Cirdan had halted, perplexed.
"I would not be averse to meeting Maglor." Cirdan paused. "Although his hands have carried out great evil, I have always seen him as the most reasonable of Feanor's sons. His deeds towards you and Elros and his long years of repentance do much to redeem him. I would consult with Ulmo." Cirdan met Elrond's eyes steadily. "Your task is more difficult."
"I do plan to bring his case before the Valar," Elrond promised softly, then turned to continue walking along the shore. The Mariner paused, stroking his white beard methodically as he looked over the ocean. Cirulian had kept some yards behind them to protect their privacy but still guard Elrond. Both of them gasped as a wave rose large and narrow. It lurched mercurially, crashing over Elrond like a net of water. Like a trap sprung by some unknown force, it grabbed the elf as if it were its single target. The Peredhel had spent much of his life near the ocean and was an excellent swimmer, but they saw him fall limp into the surf and disappear into the frothing tide.
"Adar!" Elrohir ran into the surf, screaming for his father. Cirdan also ran forward into the water but detected no sign of Elrond. He saw Elrohir dive left, guided by his bond to his Father. Precious moments ticked by with no sign of either Peredhil.
Cirdan strode deeper into the water, fearless. For he now recognized the power behind the waves. He had dealt with Ossë and Uinen many times and knew it was the latter with whom he had to negotiate now. Ossë would never choose stealth.
"Uinen, release them. Ulmo will not be pleased if you cause their deaths." Cirdan strode into the water. A large pearl on a chain was glowing in his hand. "Uinen! They do not have the skill of the Maia to change their hroar! They will drown." He cried and thrust the chain underwater. Moments later, Elrohir surfaced twenty feet off the shore.
"Help!" He coughed, sputtering in the water as he crushed a limp figure to his chest. Cirulian and Cirdan dove into the water instantly, adrenaline pushing both to cover the distance in record time. Cirdan grasped the limp figure and pulled him ashore as Cirulian aided Elrohir. The son of Elrond sank gratefully to the sand coughing violently as he tried to expel the water from his lungs. Cirdan already had Elrond on his back and was compressing his chest. Elrohir heard his father cough weakly and looked over as Cirdan turned Elrond on his side.
"There is more than that in his lungs." Elrohir wheezed and crawled over to his father. The elder Peredhel's lips were already blue.
"Uinen!" Cirdan shouted at the sea, while Elrohir desperately crawled to Elrond. "You will not want to face Ulmo's wrath should he die." The words sparked an immediate reaction. A wide expanse of water rose upwards. Instinctively, Elrohir clutched his father to himself, but the water did not overwhelm them. Instead, it grew into a vortex and eerily took the shape of a gigantic woman who suddenly bent over them.
"Elwing visits us. Why not them?" She seemed to pout but placed her hand on Elrond's back. Elrohir's whole being was caught up in the power that tingled in the air. "He always ignored my summons." She frowned. Cirdan held Elrond's head as he vomited up water. Elrohir sank beside them as still as a statue. Cirdan finally breathed again when he saw color return to Elrond's lips. Water still trickled out his mouth, evidently expelled from the lungs by the power of the mercurial Maia that leaned over them. Suddenly, the silver eyes focused. Cirdan could read shock and awe in their depth. Uinen laughed – a haunting sound that seemed to shake them from within. "You could have come before." She laughed at Elrond. Then, the singular water lady turned to Cirdan.
"He is not like Elwing. His soul is strange and full of contradictory colors, disciplined but rushing, fierce and generous, protective and passionate, strong yet injured. So many competing tendencies!" Uinen shook her head in confusion.
"These things do not have to be incompatible," Cirdan noted even as he wondered how different the Maiar were from elves. "No, it was this Maia and her husband," he reminded himself, "so different from Mithrandir and Melian." Uinen stepped back from Elrond and turned towards Elrohir. Her disturbingly sea-colored hands were long-fingered with nails the color of red coral. The long braids that formed her hair seemed woven out of the water and gave off rainbows in the sun. Cirdan gaped as Uinen pressed her hand against Elrohir's chest. Elrond's son looked as if he were frozen, immobile under the power of the Maia. She smiled wryly with an almost satisfied grin as she gripped his tunic. "This one has a wild spirit. You will come to visit me again." She bent lower to kiss his brow.
"You will not harm them like you did Elros." Glorfindel suddenly appeared to confront the Maia.
"Elros," Uinen repeated as a small smile flitted across her face, followed by feigned offense. "I did not hurt Elros." She protested under Glorfindel's hard stare. "You are bold twice-born." The golden warrior forced his way in between Uinen and Elrohir.
"Release them." Glorfindel ordered.
"These Peredhil are a mystery. No one is the same as another. I have not hurt them Nowë." She turned towards the Mariner, but the golden warrior followed her. She relented. "I release them." She laughed, and the water that formed her image suddenly crashed to the ground, abruptly released from its constraints. Of Uinen there was no sign. The water soaked them as the tide swept away. Elrohir blinked dazedly at Glorfindel as if awakening from a deep sleep. Elrond groaned and clutched his head as he sat up, finally covering his eyes with his hands. Cirdan was kneeling by him in an instant.
"Elrond, are you well?" Cirdan did not know where to begin. Cirulian bent near them, ready to offer any aid necessary.
"I am fine." Cirdan nearly snorted at the understatement. Elrond wondered where his sons had inherited this tendency! "Where is Elrohir? Is he hurt?" Elrond whispered. Cirdan looked over to where Glorfindel was assessing the younger Peredhel. Elrohir was shaking violently in the aftermath of his encounter with Uinen.
"Elrohir will be fine. You are my charge today, Mellon-nin. Where are you hurt?"
"Headache … Elros said it was Ossë, who was wild and rash." Elrond rasped.
"Your Naneth and brother loved the sea?" Elrohir asked weakly as Glorfindel ran his hands over his torso.
"I do not remember Elwing," Elrond admitted softly. "But Elros loved the sea."
"Yes, Elwing loved the sea." Cirdan corrected as he helped Elrond to his feet. He fought the urge to swing the regal elf Lord into his arms. The said Lord looked more like a drowned Elfling. "But for now, let us get you both up to the veranda, where at least a glass of Miruvor is called for, if not something stronger. Once you arrive in the West and feel stronger, you should inquire about the relationship Elwing has nurtured with Uinen. I think neither one understands who you are."
(1 Tolkien's words) These are Tolkien's words from the Chapter on The Grey Havens in The Return of the King.