My Son

by Eiladwyn-(T)
September 21, 2009

Stories > Authors > Eiladwyn's stories > My Son: Thranduil's PoV > My Son: Elrond's PoV
Elrond has sailed and awaits his sons' arrival. (Some say they sailed, some say they did not.)


Thranduil is at the foremost of the crowd, impatiently jostling aside any who dare try take his place. It is almost amusing, except that my wife and I are the ones being jostled. We retreat backwards, but only a little. Where are my sons? I long to halt everyone in their tracks, and simply go running on board, hunting for my elflings.
Glorfindel strides down first, and I greet him in delight. We babble about the most inane things for a little while, and then he spots his father.

I push him towards the ancient elf, and smile at his childlike expression. Thranduil watches them as well, with a slight hint of jealousy on his face. But then he too, is claimed by his son. Celebrían pulls me forward, and we look around in all directions. Elladan stands before, and time stands still. He laughs, and tries to talk from within our loving squeeze, but…Where is Elrohir?

We step apart. I already know, but…No. No, it cannot be! No! Not my little elf knight…Elladan holds my hand, and Celebrían’s too…He, who must be suffering the most, gives us strength.

I’m sorry, Ada. I tried.
Oh, I know, my son…I know how hard you tried...Please, don't be sorry, my brave one...
He…He said that his lot…was the lot of men. That he felt a bond with them.

I cannot speak anymore. I don't want to think anymore...

No...My Elrohir has made the choice of Elros...I hold my oldest tightly, as I feel the heartrending sobs emanate from deep inside him. I know how you feel, ion nin. But I do not speak the useless platitudes. They will be of no use. I know.

To have your twin taken from you is having half your mind and soul ripped away. Two sides of a coin should be never separated. But they can, as I know all too well…Long ago, my twin made the same choice Elrohir has.

I know Elladan will be strong. The pain will fade, for we are in Valinor, but always, always there will be a scar. And it will never heal. The three of us stand there, holding each other, yet somehow Elladan still seems alone. I do not know how much time has passed, but Elladan begins to breathe deeply, emerging from our protective cocoon. Oh, my little elfling...

He stands tall and straight once again, and our friends and people gather around us. Thranduil locks eyes with me.

We are here for you.

What can I say? I nod in assent.

I know.

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Contributed for the 12th Anniversary of the Valar Guild.