Rating: PG-13 (nothing explicit)
Pairing: Elrond/Gil-galad
Summary: Elrond reaches Aman at last.
Note: Thank you, thank you, thank you to On the Shores of Valinor by Maybe, High Princes of Tirion by Nemis, Reunited by Ereinion, Crusade by Arctapus, and Happily Ever After by Manu for influencing and inspiring my idea of a post War of the Ring Aman.
Elrond and Galadriel were the last off the ship. Cirdan and the other Elves were already greeting the onslaught that came to welcome them. Mithrandir--who would soon return to his favourite golden-haired form as Olórin--was leading the anxious hobbits away from the crowd. The two remaining ring-bearers stood side-by-side as the crowd rushed toward them. Galadriel mentally put a consoling hand on Elrond's shoulder, and he returned the gesture.
The first to reach them was Celebrian. A smile graced her face such as Elrond had not seen since before she was captured. Elrond felt his eyes moisten as she embraced her mother. It didn't seem real until Celebrian embraced him, and he felt hot tears trickling down his cheeks to the corners of his mouth. After a moment she pulled apart and brushed his tears away with her gloved hand. Not seeing her children, and fearing the worst, she held her questions, and took her place between her mother and husband.
As she did, Elrond gazed toward the distant hills, admiring the landscape of Aman. He saw a figure standing on top of the nearest hill, staring his direction. The figure held that familiar slightly arrogant, regal bearing. His raven hair cascaded to one side in the northerly wind, as did the crimson cloak in which he was clad. An aura shone around him and rose above his head, a geyser.
This could have described any Noldo of noble blood, but nonetheless he felt that familiar spell realised in his body once again:
the wind blowing
his hair flowing
his robes billowing
my blood racing
my breath panting
my heart pounding
And it was without reason, but for the electric brush of his aura, that he felt even from the docks.
Gil-galad had been re-embodied and awaited him.
Elrond's stomach rumbled with anxiety and hope. The Elf on the hill caught his eye and Elrond was nearly knocked from his feet with the strength of the other's gaze. He realised that the Elf had been watching him since he arrived.
A touch on Elrond's shoulder interrupted the exchange. It was Gelmir who had led Tuor to the Gates of the Noldor so long ago, and who had frequented court in Lindon. There were many others that Elrond had met in Lindon, and more that he had only heard of only in song and legend. There were a few that he didn't recognise but that seemed to know him or Galadriel. Nearly all of Galadriel's brothers welcomed them with tears, and Finarfin himself greeted Elrond as a long-lost son. To Elrond's shock, Tuor and Idril were there.
Elrond's defences were low with exhaustion before he arrived, and now he could no longer withhold any emotion, so overwhelming was the meeting with his kin. He saw that Galadriel's face also streamed with tears, to his relief. They saw also Fingolfin and Turgon. Elrond was delighted to meet both of his forefathers, as Glorfindel had told him so much about Turgon. Elwë Thingol was there too, and he greeted Elrond as the son of Luthien and passed along Melian's greeting to them both. Last to greet them was Ingwion, and he had kind words of welcome for them, on behalf of his father, the High King of the Eldar.
Finarfin had remained next to Galadriel and now that the crowd was clearing out, he walked over to Elrond, who was talking to Celebrian. "Elrond," he said, resting an arm on his shoulder. "Go to him."
Elrond bowed and obeyed without comment. If Celebrian looked confused when he kissed her hand and walked off, the others knew exactly what Finarfin had referred to, and they were silent. Elrond did not look up as he approached the hill and climbed the narrow stair, nor did he look back to the scores of eyes that he felt on him. He survived the climb only by applying the fruit of two ages of meditation and mindfulness. He concentrated on each ripple of muscle in his legs and back, aware of each twig that lay in his path, each flower he passed, each fluctuation of the wind. He kept his mind firmly in the present that it might not dwell on the expectations of the future.
He was therefore astonished to discover that future had transformed into the present when he reached the top of the hill on which Ereinion Gil-galad stood. Unable go any further, he fell on his knees. But the king rushed to him and pulled him up to his feet, engulfing him in a possessive embrace. Elrond was numbly surprised that he had any tears left to shed as he sobbed into his king's shoulder. He soon felt his own head moisten with Ereinion's tears as well.
Ereinion held him for nearly an hour before he stepped back to looked at him. "The Third Age was not kind to you, my friend. Grief and care have aged and wearied you. No matter. Finarfin has his own house of healing. I will take you there directly. You are exhausted."
"You look...youthful, my lord," said Elrond.
"Mandos has restored me to my peak form. The battle scars and lines of care are all vanished. Yours will heal here as well." With that Gil-galad drew him close again and kissed his brow, before brushed it softly with his hand.
ooo*ooo
The next thing Elrond remembered was waking up in a soft bed. For a moment he thought it had all been a dream, and that he was back in Imladris. He even heard the familiar trickle of waterfalls and and fountains and the chirping and piping of birds. Anar warmed him, and yet he felt no cool breeze stir him.
Then his eyes focused. The architecture of the room was like nothing in any of the rooms of Imladris. The scent of the air was different too. There were pines in Imladris, but they were too far away from the house to smell except with just the right wind. He looked around and saw two figures siting by his bed, which had apparently been watching and waiting for some time. It was Mithrandir--Olórin now--and Ereinion.
They obviously knew each other and were grateful for each other's company. They must have met before Olórin came to Middle Earth in the Third Age, he thought. His eyes rested on them, and he waited for them to acknowledge his wakefulness and answer his questions.
"Ah, you are awake." Gil-galad saw the questions in his eyes. "You were exhausted. I put you in a deep sleep and carried you here."
"You were never a healer--" Elrond began, perplexed.
"One can learn many things in Aman, Elrond." The kings amusement reached his voice and eyes. "But be not afraid. Irímë did most of the healing, and Finarfin has been in to check on you as well."
"The Noldor have claimed me, then," Elrond stated.
"Aye, Finarfin has claimed you, citing your wife and your allegiance." Olórin spoke up.
"And what of Fingolfin?" Elrond asked.
"He and Turgon live as hermits in the hills. They have built no great house of their own but are very happy. They receive visitors often. They have entrusted you to Finarfin's house," Olórin explained. "Elwë feels that you will be happier with the Noldor, though you be the image of Luthien. Melian agrees."
"And Celebrian?" Elrond asked softly.
"Celebrian has been drawn to her father's people since she arrived. She dwells with the brothers Elwë, Olwë, and Elmo and their people," the answer came.
"So Galadriel will not dwell with her father?"
"On the contrary, Galadriel will not be separated from him and her brothers. Her mother dwells with them some of the time, and Galadriel has accepted that Celebrian will be happy with the Teleri. It is not that far away."
"I shall not be given choice, then, of where I dwell?"
Olórin's face softened. "If you do not wish to dwell with Finarfin, he will not command it, Elrond. Your blood gives you that freedom, at least."
"It is enough that I have the choice." Elrond decided. "I will abide here. Yet Celebrian--" he broke off.
"Celebrian has changed since she left Middle Earth," Olórin began gently. "She still loves you, but the bond is no longer there. The Valar have sundered it beyond repair. It has given you children and refreshed the line of men, but its purpose is through. They would not approve of reforging it. Not when there is another here who still exerts a stronger bond with you."
Elrond looked at Gil-galad with disbelief and wild hope in his eyes. "You have not been punished for our marriage? The Valar...approve?"
"The Valar have always seen our bond as legitament, and it has survived my death and your taking a wife. Nevertheless, if this is what you wish, then we must go before the Valar so that they might resanctify the bond." Gil-galad replied.
The Valar summoned them the next morning, before Gil-galad could request a meeting, and before he had spoken further with Elrond on the subject. Gil-galad lamely protested that Elrond was still not well, in a rare display of his nervousness, but Eonwë, who bore the message smiled and said, "He will be well enough, before ye are judged; have trust, Artanaro."
To be continued...
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