Son of the Evening Star

[Willow Oran]

Glorfindel joined Elrond and Gil Galad and the three sat around a table that had been brought into the Hall for their use.
At this time of day only the greatest of the fires was lit, the one that had never been allowed to fully extinguish since the Hall had been built in that first, beseiged year, and the Hall was empty of all but them.
Glorfindel unrolled a map of Rivendell and the surrounding wilds that he had grabbed from his rooms as an after thought and began to point out areas where hostile creatures had been encountered.
"See here where I've marked the paths that lead into the valley," he said, "And then these areas marked in red are the places where we've seen enemies. Mostly wolves, a few orcs... spies, we think. You see the pattern on the map?
All are still quite far from the entrances to the valley, but they form a rough arc around it. It seems as though searches for our location have been renewed, for this pattern is very similar to what we saw from the Enemy's scouts during the seige.
Since we know Sauron is still a prisoner of Numenor, the source of these spies, if that is what they are, needs to be acertained, for it may mean that we have a new enemy to contend with or that our old one is gathering power again and is not so much a prisoner as Ar-Pharazon believes."

[Curufin]

'So you see, my liege, there is a darkness brewing. We know not yet how serious or dangerous it may be, or what it forebodes, but it is a darkness nonetheless, and something that must be faced before it is allowed to grow powerful.'

Elrond stopped for a moment, looking at Glorfindel, and then at his king.

'Perhaps we should also send for those of the Dúnadan who are still faithful? This darkness concerns them as well.'

[The Sasquatch of Fangorn]

"Good point." said Gil Galad, looking grim. "I shall send for my scouts to investigate this darkness and call the Dunadan."

[Curufin]

'Very well,' said Elrond, sitting back in his chair, his ebony hair catching the light from the fire as he looked pensively at Glorfindel's chart. 'I suppose it is all that can be done - for now.'

He paused for a moment, thinking deeply, then looked over at Glorfindel and Gil-Galad.

'So that is all for tonight, then. Glorfindel has ordered a chamber made up for you, my liege, and I expect you to alert me immediately if all is not exactly to your taste. For myself, I think I shall take some air. I am not in the mood for the warmth of the fire tonight.'

He bowed deeply to his king, and excused himself, stepping out to the balcony that overlooked the river valley. He face east, away from the westering sky and the twinkling of Gil-estel, clearly troubled.

[Willow Oran]

Glorfindel sighed, re-rolling the map, "He has been like that for the whole month," he told Gil-Galad, frustration marring the usually amiable face, "Brooding. He doesn't sleep well, he doesn't eat well, he insists on forsaking company to wander on his own through the halls and gardens, clearly distressed by some heavy thoughts but refusing to share that burden."
He sighed again and rested his chin on his arms, folded upon the table, looking mournfully up at the King, "They are, of course, his thoughts to be distressed by," Glorfindel continued, tone implying his disgust at his inability to vanquish thoughts as well as monsters, "But his sorrowing moods spread through the house and there seems to be nothing I can do to relieve it."

[Varnafindë]

Rameldir was on his way back to Imladris. He and a select group of his best archers had been out on a short mission towards the south. There had been rumours of Orcs being spotted. They had indeed found a band of Orcs and eliminated them. Was he just being gloomy, or had there really been more of them lately? If they had to fight lots of Orcs eventually, he was glad that he had his archers well trained. They were enough to form a considerable part of Elrond's army - if he needed an army again.

Rameldir thought back to the time when they had founded Imladris. As commander of Gil-galad's archers, he had been sent with Elrond to attack Sauron in Eregion. It hadn't been a success. Thanks to the Dwarves, they had survived - barely - and been able to retreat; which was when they had gone all the way up to that easily defendable valley that Rameldir had discovered some centuries earlier and shown to his friend and kinsman. After a siege, they had had help from Gil-galad, who again had had help from the Numenoreans. Elrond and Rameldir had stayed at Imladris ever since, making it a haven for the Elves, as well as a centre for learning, lore and music.

At this time of day it was a bit early for any stars to be seen. But when he was thinking of the past, his thoughts went all the way back to the time when his friend Eärendil - who now was sailing among the stars - instead was playing among the boys in Gondolin. Rameldir had been only ten, and Eärendil seven, when Gondolin fell. Rameldir had been orphaned, but Eärendil's parents had fostered him, Idril and Rameldir's mother being second cousins. Together they had lived at the Mouth of Sirion, until the colony was attacked and Eärendil's family had been scattered. Rameldir had instead stayed with Gil-galad, his cousin, son of the uncle that he had never met.

The group of archers reached their destination and went their separate ways to refresh themselves after their outing, and to have some refreshments from the kitchen as well. After a light dinner, Rameldir was informed that the High King Gil-galad had arrived that day, and was resting in his chambers. Rameldir decided that he would talk to him the next day, if they didn't meet in the Hall of Fire after supper. Instead he went outside for some fresh air - and to watch the stars.

They were out now. He stared up at the Evening Star. Thinking of Eärendil made him both happy and sad. Happy that his friend had been able to accomplish his mission and bring aid to his people and to all of Middle-earth. Sad that he wouldn't meet him again until the end of Arda ...

He heard steps, and realised that Elrond was walking a bit further along on the balcony.

[Curufin]

Lost in his thoughts, Elrond was nearly upon Rameldir before he realized he was there. When he noticed him, he stopped abruptly, raising his grey eyes to meet those of his father's friend.

'Rameldir,' he said evenly. He had known the elder Elf for a long time, but his feelings upon meeting him again were always confused. He trusted him with his life, and knew that he always held his best interests at heart, but there were too many memories, too many feelings mixed up with his presence. He almost felt like a child again when Rameldir was around, which was an uncomfortable feeling, to say the least.

'Good evening. I did not know that you had returned.'

[Varnafindë]

"My Lord," Rameldir answered, bowing to the Lord of Imladris. "A good evening to you, too. We only returned a couple of hours ago. But we did accomplish our mission. There were indeed Orcs where they said they had been spotted. There aren't any left now, though."

As so often - more and more often over the last years - he felt that Elrond wasn't quite comfortable in his presence. There was never anything he could pinpoint accurately - Elrond never expressed any unfriendliness towards him, and he had never felt that he was not trusted. On the contrary. But there was some uneasiness, and he had tried many times to find a reason for it.

The only reason he had been able to come up with, was to look back to Elrond's ancestors. Elrond was descended from Fingolfin, who had been ambitious and proud, and always worried that his half-brother would try to push him out of his position. What if Elrond thought that Rameldir might try to push him out of his position? As Gil-galad's cousin, there could be some ground for thinking that Rameldir might want the lordship of Imladris - but nothing was further from his mind. Rameldir descended from Finarfin, who had always stayed out of the quarrels between his brothers.

But did Elrond realise that there was nothing to fear? If things came to a peak, he might have to talk to him about it. But as long as he wasn't sure, Rameldir would rather not raise the issue.

"I was told that the High King has arrived today," he said. "Is there any message?"

[Curufin]

'None,' Elrond said simply. 'Glorfindel and I shared our fears of the growing darkness and the growing prevalence of Orcs, and we have agreed to look into it further. That is all we have decided as of yet.'

He crossed his arms and turned to look out over the darkened valley yet again, finding himself at a loss for words. He often found himself at a loss near Rameldir, who had known his father far better than he ever would. He couldn't help but wonder if he judged him: if he held him against Eärendil's standard, and found him lacking. For what had he done, truly? Elros had been someone, had done something. The kings of men would always have a touch of their blood because of him. But what of himself? He had no glorious deeds to prove himself. He was well-read and a master of lore. He had inherited healing skills from his great-great grandmother. But other than that? Nothing. Did Rameldir think that he was wasting his birthright? Was he ashamed of him, as he was quite sure his father would be?

He sighed, clutching the railing until his knuckles went white.

[Varnafindë]

Rameldir noticed Elrond's knuckles go white around the railing. He wanted to say, 'Don't worry, I'm not going to ask the High King to put me in charge instead of you.' He found something else to say instead.

"I have shared the same fears over a period of time. Even more so during these last two days. We've had peace - at least relatively speaking - for several centuries. Perhaps it won't last much longer. I would be sad to see it go - I'm no warrior at heart."

He sighed.

"War must be," he said. "But I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness - not that I could touch it if I did - nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend: Imladris, our home."

[Curufin]

'I worry most for the children,' Elrond said, his voice soft and distant. 'War is even more difficult when the horrors effect those too young to truly understand them. They become but more demons to haunt the mind; more phantoms to lurk in the deepening shadows.'

He turned suddenly to face Rameldir.

'And adults often lose not only their lives, but their minds, thinking that there are things greater and more important that must be accomplished; some transcendental truth for which all else can be sacrificed. And then they are lauded as heroes, and that they have sacrificed forgotten. Or, perhaps I should say 'they that they have sacrificed.'"

He turned away, his eyes gleaming in some long withheld emotion that he was desperately attempting to master.

[The Sasquatch of Fangorn]

Gil Galad stared at the fire and thought hard. He then got up, ran over to Elrond and said- "I have a plan! We must rally our troops. We ride at dawn."

[Varnafindë]

Demons to haunt the mind. Rameldir suddenly remembered the last few seconds of his mother's life again. The memories that rushed to his mind every time he touched a blade, and had made it impossible for him to choose the sword as his weapon. The memories of the Orc blade, cutting her down - he gave a shudder.

"We were both hit hard by war in our childhood, you and I," he said. "I was ten when my father died, defending the city - my mother at least died defending me, giving me time to escape. She sacrificed herself for my sake - would you say my father sacrificed me for the city's sake? And you, you were only six, when -"

He stopped. The implications of what his friend had just said, suddenly hit him, and he didn't know what to say.

Before he could find words, they were interrupted.

[Willow Oran]

"Gil-Galad! Wait..." Glorfindel followed him, laughing, onto the balconey, "Pay our lord no mind, Elrond, I did not warn him of the strength of the wine!"

Glorfindel turned to Gil-Galad, who seemed inclined to take offense at this interpretation of his announcement, "You've only just arrived and we've been poor hosts in keeping you inside this stuffy hall," that description was a gross exaggeration, but Glorfindel plowed on,
"and plying you with strong wine when surely you would prefer to rest after your ride. Come, I'll remind you of the way to your rooms and we will indeed ride at dawn, around the borders of the valley, I'll give you a tour of our defenses as they stand..."

Glorfindel's soothing voice trailed back into the house as he led the tipsy king upstairs leaving Elrond and Rameldir alone again.

[Curufin]

Elrond was thankful for the interruption, and by the time Gil-Galad had been removed, he hoped that Rameldir had forgotten the conversation sufficiently to let it pass. He had been getting too close.

Turning away from the elder Elf, he started back inside, in the direction of his chambers. He had spent many late nights speaking with Rameldir there, and although he did not feel much like spilling his heart tonight, he supposed that if he had to do such a thing, he would prefer to do it in the privacy of his own room.

Sitting rather heavily in the window seat, his back towards the western sky, Elrond crossed his arms across his chest rahter defensively, facing Rameldir with a rather stern expression on his face. Although he did not know it, he looked very much like his father at this moment. It was a defensive posture that both used when they did not want to speak further.

'What is it you wish of me, Rameldir? Speak quickly. I have much to concern me at the present.'

[Willow Oran]

Glorfindel did not go to rejoin Elrond and Rameldir after seeing Gil-Galad to bed. Whatever they had to say to each other did not require his presence and, loathe though he was to admit it, Rameldir made him uncomfortable as no other elf he had met since being reborn could.

It was the age thing, he thought as he entered the study he and Elrond shared, the sensation of being suddenly younger than a person whom he had last seen as a small child was disconcerting. A bit like being drunk...

It wasn't an issue with Gil-Galad only because he had never met Gil-Galad during the First Age and it was an advantage to be technically no older than Elrond, for he doubted the Peredhel would have warmed to an older companion as quickly, if at all.

...but the off-kilter, slightly out of focus discord in expectation that he experience with Rameldir was just weird. He always expected to see the young cousin he had known, rather than the experienced survivor that he was coming to know. An uncomfortable reminder of the centuries he had missed.

Glorfindel sighed and sat at his desk, picking up in the paperwork that seemed to breed in these moderately peaceful stretches from where he had left off the night before.

[Varnafindë]

When Elrond left, Rameldir had a distinct feeling that he was meant to follow, so he did. He trailed behind the other until they got to Elrond's own chambers, where they had had many deep conversations earlier. If at all possible, there would be another one tonight.

Why had he never made the connection before? Was it just because Elrond had never been as frank before? The events had become blurred in his mind, because the attack on the Havens of Sirion had been such a turning point in his own life. But that was of course not the whole picture ...

If he wanted a deep conversation, though, he would have to defy Elrond. That posture didn't bode well. He reminded him of Eärendil. So much it almost hurt.

"First of all I want to ask your forgiveness," Rameldir said. "For what I said out there just now. And for probably having had that attitude for years. I was about to say that you were six when you lost your family. And in a way you were. I suppose Sirion is the event that has stuck in my mind. I was less than forty years old, living in your father's palace after Tuor and Idril had left. I'll never forget how Maedhros' servants held me back when I tried to defend you and your brother. I was young, I had no sword, only my dagger - my bow was no use. They didn't even fight me, they just took my dagger away and held me while they were carrying you off."

He swallowed a couple of times before he went on.

"Yes, that was the day when your family was shattered," he said. "But it was not the day when you lost your father! I should have remembered enough to make that connection. You couldn't have been more than two when he departed - I never saw your mother truly happy after that.
He didn't go only to accomplish something important, Elrond. He was always restless. It was Tuor who started it. At the feast in memory of the fallen of Gondolin, he made your father a song about how Ulmo had called him at Nevrast. It awoke the sea-longing in both of them. I still remember the song, although I've never felt the sea-longing myself - I believe my doom lies elsewhere. You remember Tar-Aldarion? Your father was much like him."

He hesitated a little, before continuing, looking sternly at his friend.

"But I see now how you must have felt that he sacrificed you," he said. "You should tell me about it."

[Curufin]

'Of course I remember Tar-Aldarion,' Elrond snapped. 'He was my great-great-great-great nephew, after all.'

He turned and looked out the window. Was he to have to face the abandonment of Elros tonight as well?

'Why should I tell you, Rameldir? These feelings are mine and mine alone. As for the sea, I feel no such longing.'

That was not entirely true. He had felt the call of the sea years before, but had resisted it, as the memory of the sea for him was one of bitterness and loss. It was the sea which had taken his family from him - even sundering him from his only brother.

[Varnafindë]

"As for your feelings being yours and yours alone - yes, I know that you've been keeping them like that for rather a long time now," Rameldir answered. "And a lot of good it has done you. You're a healer, right? When your patient claims that his boil is his and his alone, you still insist on opening it to relieve the pressure and get the pus out.
I heard bitterness in your words out there, my friend. And bitterness can hurt you just as much as an infested wound. Even when there is good reason for it. I'm not saying there is none."

He went over to the window to stand next to Elrond. He looked up at the evening star.

"Your father was an adventurer, you see," he said. "Not primarily a warrior. He wanted the Valar to bring peace to Middle-earth - through war, which was inevitable, but in the end peace. The same work which you have continued. You've made Rivendell a haven of peace - even if it started as a haven in rather rough seas. Noone could have carried out what you've done, better than you - I certainly couldn't."

There, he thought. Now I've said it. He shouldn't believe now that I want to usurp his place. If only he believes I'm telling the truth.

"If your father can see you, I'm sure he would agree with me," he added. "He would have been proud of you."

[Curufin]

Elrond hugged himself tightly, finally raising his eyes to look at the star.

'Do you think...'

He stopped, his voice quieter and sounding much younger.

'Am I anything like him?' He paused. 'I can't remember him, Rameldir. At all. I have no memories to remember him by. Nothing. I don't even know what he looked like.'