I stood watching the sea once again. It seemed to me that a storm raged in the West, as it had overmuch these past days. Far off, amidst the salt spray of the ocean, a strange flickering blinked and trembled, a flickering as of lightning. The Sun was setting, and her brightness appeared to dim as she was drawn behind the holy mountain of Taniquetil, in Aman where dwell now most of my kin. Would the Moon dim even so when I sailed from Mithlond? But surely centuries would pass before that came to be. I could not trust so well in the strength of men.
"Gil-galad," a voice murmured in my ear. Elrond's hands encircled my waist, his delicate fingers brushing my skin through my silk tunic. If I sailed to Valinor, I told myself, Elrond could take the kingship for me. He had claim in the blood of both Doriath and Gondolin, and he was wise and valiant. But I would never sail without him.
"It storms in the West," I told him, leaning back against his slender body, my cheek next to his. "In Númenor some battle rages, some folly of the noble men come to its full audacity."
"If the heirs of my brother are as foolhardy as is told, the battle may be farther west than that, in Avallonë or even on the shores of Aman," said he. His voice grew sad and solemn. "I fear the noble blood has passed out of that line of men, and they are even as the wild men of the south and east, beyond your kingdom."
"Nay," I replied. I clasped his hand in both of mine where it lay on my stomach. "For since Morgoth has been cast into the Void, how could the power of Sauron his minion dare to assail the Valar? No matter what lies he plants in the hearts of men, they have the blood of Lúthien herself in their veins, even as do you."
"Perhaps the news that has reached me has not reached you." He let go my waist and leaned past me, gazing into the sunset. The sea was bright crimson as if awash with blood, bathing the wounds of the Sun that she had received in passing over mortal lands. "Even now they worship death and call false the name of Iluvatar." He turned away. "Gil-galad, I am leaving tomorrow for Rivendell."
"No!" I cried. "For if what you say is true, they will dare to assail us even as they assail the Valar. If they have no respect for the Lords of the West, what respect will they have for us? Will they place value in my title as King of Elves? We must concentrate our force here, and along the coast. And Sauron will make use of his power here, using that demonic ring he forged for war against us. We must prevent his return when he has gotten his desire from Valinor."
"He will return whether our force lies here or no," Elrond insisted. He still gazed into the West, not looking at me. "But Rivendell must be strong if our power is to extend beyond the Great River even to the borders of Greenwood, as it has done in recent years. Do you wish to be pushed back, caged at Mithlond, or even resigned to the tall ships on the sea?"
"The sea calls me as it does not call you," said I. A touch of bitterness entered my voice, and I pushed back from the window. "Strange in the son of the Mariner that he should have no longing for the sea."
"And strange in the son of Fingon that he should have no heart to rule his people," he retorted. I bit back the sharp words that formed on my tongue and leaned beside him again at my balcony window. The waves lapped gently on the shore beneath us, and the sea-birds mewed. There was a fair breeze, and even as we stood there a gentle rain began to fall. Yet beyond that was ever the lightning and the anger of Ulmo and of Ossë.
"It pains me to let you go," I told him. I laid my hand again on his. "In Imladris you do not think of me. Your heart is turned always to your people living there, people who have never heard of me and of whom I have never heard. What news I receive tells of naught but you and the daughter of Galadriel."
"Celebrian is-" he began sharply, and then cut himself off. He turned his hand up so that his palm faced mine. "Forgive me. I do not wish to hurt you, but think of the laws of our kindred. They do not understand. Even the good and wise of your subjects begin to think it more than the friendship proper to men when we are together night and day, and there are some who look at us strangely when we pass in the street. It is unsafe."
"You are right. You must leave, even as you have said." I turned from the window, taking my hand from his and silently pledging to leave my heart behind me there. I strode over to my closet and began to sort through the robes hanging there. "Yet I will not let you leave this final time without some sort of public recognition. We will hold a feast tonight. What would you have me wear?" He took my arm and turned me to face him, pinning me close to the wall.
"Absolutely nothing," he whispered, his hands running down my sides as he leaned in to kiss me.
"All the eagles are flying out to sea," Ruiniel stated plainly, gesturing with a glass of sweet southern wine. Her copper-red braid swung as she turned to each elf to make her point. Her hair color was not usual to the elves, and almost unheard of among the Noldor, but from time to time it would turn up in one of the Vanyar, like her mother. Yet in most respects she took after her Noldorin father- her sea-gray eyes, her knowledge, her valor, and the stubborn streak that had led her to choose exile.
"All the West is laced with lightning," she continued. "My keen-eyed brother can descry the ships of Númenor tossed at sea when the mists are thinner. The wrath of the Valar is upon the kings of men. We must then be wary in our own lands, for if the noblest of the Followers are corrupt, we can place little trust in the base-born wild men. Know you that I have long had misgivings about the traffic of these mortals in our lands. I call for vigilance. What do we know of the fate of Sauron, who of late troubled us with war and strife? How can we have grown complacent?"
"Quite clever, that one," commented Elrond quietly to me. "Very beautiful. War-mongering, sooth, but none even among the Noldor is without fault. When Celebrian and I wed, you might court her."
"She might not take to being courted," I replied, accepting the glass of red wine he handed me. I grew quiet at feasts and celebrations, as Elrond well knew, and he had helped me to find an undisturbed spot in the corner. "I would not take to courting her."
"Gil-galad, you must have some love in your heart for women. Have you no appreciation of her fine figure or her lovely face? Come, tell me truly you do not feel a fluttering in your chest at the sight of her impassioned bosom." I looked. I did not. Then I turned back to Elrond, who raised his glass cheerfully.
"I fear you have been too long at the wine," I said. "This is overly strong. How much have you had? You are not a heavy drinker, and you cannot stomach this." In defiance of me, he drained an entire goblet.
"Watch me," he said. It came to my ears as "washt me". He was quite clearly tipsy, for this wine came of a stock I had long been hoarding, and it was thicker than our normal white. I suspected that I had forgotten to inform the gathering of this. I hauled Elrond to his feet, my arm under his shoulder, and dragged him discreetly away from the feast. Almost as soon as we were out of sight, he collapsed entirely. I picked him up and carried him to his room.
I set him gently onto his bed, and waited a moment to ensure that he was safe. Soon his eyes flickered open, and he frowned at me. It is characteristic of many elves that wine affects them quickly, but not for long.
"Why are you standing away, Gil-galad?" he asked. "Come to bed." I obeyed, for if the strong wine of the south takes away a man's capacity for thought, it only increases his capacity for love.
I awoke with the rising of the Sun, finding Elrond still in my arms. Knowing all would soon rise, I quickly found my robes and rearranged my hair. His chamber was airy and open to the air and the trees, in the style he had developed in Imladris, far removed from our fortress-like buildings. The sunlight and a faint morning breeze streamed in. So did Ruiniel, without even a knock.
"Still here?" she asked, arching an eyebrow. Her smirk might have driven Varda herself to violence. As Elrond had said, she was beautiful, but I cared for her far more as a warrior or a hostler than as a lady.
"I came to see Lord Elrond off, only to discover that last night's rich wine still leaves him sleeping," I answered, patiently ignoring her expression. The half-lie tripped off my tongue glibly.
"I would not mention it," she replied infuriatingly. I fear I scowled. The grace of the Valar protect me from gossip-scroungers! And yet it reminded me to take care, for the love between Elrond and myself would not be permitted among the Noldor. She at least did not find it repulsive, merely amusing. Still, something in that amusement irritated me no end.
"And you? Why do you enter his private chambers?" I asked. I hoped that I appeared to be calm, as I found an armchair and leaned back in it casually, putting on my most kingly air.
"I bring word of the horse he is to ride," she told me, crossing her arms. "You know he has none of his own at the moment, and we at the stables have consulted and determined that Ernil may bear him to Imladris, but we trust he shall be returned. I keep careful watch on our horses, sire, more careful a watch than you keep on your own secrets." It seemed she was warning me for my own safety, not amusing herself with my errors.
"I will pass the message on," I assured her. She glared at me suspiciously, but that is the manner of all hostlers who lend their mounts. With a curt nod she left. Watching her stride out of the room was akin to watching the tallest of our vessels pass majestically out of the narrow harbor onto the open sea, for she left behind her a wake too large for the space to contain it.
In order to avoid any further encounters of this nature, I shook Elrond awake, whispering in his ear to rise. When this did not wake him from his wine-induced sleep, I kissed him soundly on the lips, and with that he rose. But that was the last time, I promised myself. I would not leave my heart in the hands of one who could not love me back. I tossed him some traveling clothes- a leather jerkin and leggings.
"My head pounds," he informed me, grimacing as he lifted himself from the bed. With a yawn and a groan he attempted to stretch. "May Estë grant that my horse be gentle."
"Your horse is a favorite of Ruiniel. I would hardly hope for a pony," I pointed out, handing him a basin of cold water. "She was in here only moments ago, gleefully noting how early I was in your room. That harridan, Elrond, how could you have suggested I court her?"
"I have no recollection of that. I must have been very drunk," his voice emanated from within the jerkin he was struggling to pull over his head. "I do admit that I think better of the fiery maiden than you do, but how could I wish to lose you to any woman? I do not love you the less for the love of Celebrian, but at least if I wed her we may still meet here. If you were wed where then would we meet?"
I did not answer him, we cannot meet thus again. I knew so firmly in my heart that I would not let my love go with Elrond when he loved another and would so soon forget me, yet I was tempted still.
"Do you remember aught of last night?" I asked. He was now fully clothed, a fact I distinctly regretted.
"Not a thing," he answered, dashing the water on his face. He shook himself, prepared to meet the day, and then failed, collapsing again onto the bed and furrowing his brow in frustration.
"Then we shall have to do it all over again," I said. My hand traced idly over his braided hair, and I brushed a kiss over his lips. His hands slid up my back, under my tunic, sending a shiver up my spine. I began to pull him down into the bed, when I heard someone knock on the door. I jerked away, straightening my clothing and hastily running my fingers through my hair. Elrond went to the door.
"Mae govannen, Elrond," exclaimed the young elf who stood there. His hair was sandy blond and his eyes were bright blue, the marks of a Silvan elf. He was fair and noble in manner. I despised him immediately. "I heard you were leaving for Rivendell today, and I thought to accompany you."
"Indeed, Thranduil, it is well thought," he replied, clasping in greeting the hand that this youth extended. "You will accompany us first to breakfast, I trust." Thranduil noticed me suddenly, but did not seem to think it odd that I should be in Elrond's chambers at this time of morning.
"I have not met your friend," he said. He smiled at me, and I forced myself to smile back. I chided myself, knowing I had no reason to hate him, but merely dismayed at losing Elrond. Why should some youngling of the Moriquendi be as good a friend to Elrond as I? Why should he part from me, to live in his mountain refuge amongst elves I had never met?
"He is Gil-galad, High King of the elves in Middle-earth," Elrond informed him. "Gil-galad, this is Thranduil, who rules many of the woodland elves." I barely kept myself from protesting that he was but a boy. He greeted me, and I him, and he instantly forgot my existence and fell to chatting with Elrond of I knew nor recked not what.
O Elrond Half-elven, have you utterly forsaken me? New loves, new friends, a city and a lordship all your own. Your habits and speech every day less Noldorin. With the end of the Second Age- yea, for it is ending- comes the end of your love for me. Mel fíriel, mel vanwa, Edhilaran egla.
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