Elrond stood on the hilltop, his hand on the warm, heaving flank of his favorite horse. Below him was the fertile, green valley that served as the feet of Lindon. Above, the sun was setting, the reddish hue spreading across the sky.
It was a lovely sight, and one that, on any other day, would have pleased his heart to behold.
But not today. And not on any other day that he can foresee in the near future.
Was it only the day before that his entire world seemed to have fallen in on itself? When he watched his trusted mentor stride into the gathering to champion the dreaded rings that Celebrimbor had unknowingly forged under the tutelage of Sauron?
"How could they be so easily swayed?" the Half-elven whispered to himself.
His horse whinnied and shook its ears. A sad smile graced Elrond's face and he patted the chestnut mare's flank gently as acknowledgment.
The one bright spot he could find, if he could even call it that, was that Galadriel surprised everyone at the gathering and declined to put on the ring with the clear stone. Nenya, Cirdan had called it. Elrond didn't know why she had refused it and he dared not hope that it was because she saw it now to be folly.
No, it could not be that. He had seen for himself the longing in her eyes as she handed it over to the High King Gil-galad for safekeeping while they sought out a worthy ring bearer.
She may not have donned the ring, but that does not mean she is free of his influence, he thought.
Cirdan had advised him not to abandon his friends now. If he truly believed them to have lost their way, then they needed him on their side now more than ever.
But Cirdan also wore the ring with the red stone. What was its name? Oh, yes. Narya, the Ring of Fire.
Surely, even he disagreed with Elrond that the rings were evil.
The Half-elven's shoulders stooped. He felt as though all the troubles he had been through in his life were visiting him anew and they weighed him down.
He had never felt more alone.
"I thought I might find you here."
Elrond stiffened. He looked over his shoulder and quickly erased the sorrow and confusion that he knew was drawn so flagrantly all over his face. He cleared his throat and faced the new arrival with shoulders squared. "Rima," he said, nodding politely. "I'm glad to see you are well."
"Well enough in body to have sailed with the rest of my company to Valinor, alongside Commander Galadriel, at any rate." As always, Rima's face was set in stern lines, though they have been known to soften into laughter from time to time.
Usually, it was when she hunted and cornered particularly destructive orcs.
But today, she simply seemed…serious.
She was a tall elf, broad of shoulder and long of limb. Her hair, a red so dark it almost resembled some long-forgotten bloodstain, was pulled back into a tight braid.
But she was dressed in the long, flowing dress favored by nissi when staying within the safe confines of Lindon, and so Elrond knew that she had no intention of heading off into any skirmish. The way she wore her hair must simply be habit to her.
"The High King Gil-galad felt it was too soon. You have carried the cold of Forodwaith in your very bones for weeks even after your return from your…sortie."
"Our sortie…and our mutiny." Rima had turned towards the setting sun, but she cast a sidelong glance at Elrond as she spoke. "You have become adept at diplomacy, not even deigning to mention how we turned our backs on your closest friend."
"Both the king and Galadriel had seen it fit not to hold you accountable. Who am I to say any different?"
"I've heard you've been at great difference with Galadriel. So great that you dove off a waterfall than submit to her will. Perhaps you don't mention the mutiny because you, too, agree with it."
Elrond narrowed his eyes at the nis. "Why were you looking for me, Rima?"
She took so long to answer that he thought she would not answer at all. "The king has asked me if I would be Nenya's ring bearer."