I have lost count of how many nights I have sailed this sky alone onboard Vingilot. I must sail alone, for there is none who would accompany me on these lonely voyages. Even Elwing chooses to remain in her white tower upon the shores, awaiting my return; Ada and Nana also remain behind in Valinor, waiting as patiently, if not more so, than my beloved wife. The thought of sailing alone does not matter much to me; I enjoy the solitude at times as I silently glide through the darkness. I have sailed alone before, or in company so few it seems as if the ship housed no one. Silence is my companion, and I am content with that. Sometimes words are more of a curse than a blessing.
I sigh deeply as the ship moves forward into the still night. My warm breath crystallizes in the cool air about me, the light of the Silmaril on my brow causing the small crystals to shimmer and dance before fading. My fingers ghost across the jewel glowing with its own inner light; it seems to grow warm at my touch as if to soothe any hurts I might have. I smile faintly at the idea.
I think about the history of the Silmaril, the battles fought over it, the people who died trying to obtain or protect it. There was a night once when I tried to wrench it from its resting place on my brow in order to cast it away; the idea of what people had to go through because of the jewel sickened me at the time. But now it has become a guiding light, and a constant source of calm for me. It is the Silmaril that lights my way as I sail, and it aids in illuminating the night.
The other stars in the sky seek to comfort me from time to time, drawn to the jewel I carry; I have learned much from them of the changing of the world, which I can only bear witness to. Sometimes the stories they tell sadden me, other times I am envious of the time they spent on Arda. I can never set foot on the land of my birth, or I shall lose the immortality I have gained. Knowing such a fact pains me at times, especially when my son or his children call out to me for guidance. All I am able to do is listen to their questions, their pleas, and send their words on to Elbereth, hoping she will aid them when I cannot.
Dearest Elrond, I could have been a better father to you. As I sit on Vingilot and ride over the beautiful home you have created, I wonder how your life would have been different had your mother and I been by your side. Would Elros have chosen immortality rather than wishing to become a part of his Edain heritage, leaving you alone in the world? Perhaps not, for I too favored the lineage of my father though I chose to account myself among the Eldar. I made such a sacrifice for your mother even though my heart told me otherwise; I loved her dearly, and could not leave her side for long. But you know well of sacrifices, Elrond. I dare say you've had more than your fair share of them in your long lifetime.
I lean forward towards the bowsprit, trying to get a closer glimpse of the grandchildren I can never met so long as they reside in Middle-earth. They are chasing one another by the banks of the Bruinen, laughing merrily as if they were elflings again. Such beautiful children you've created in your union, ion-nīn. I see much of you in Elladan's eyes, and there is much of your brother in Elrohir. Fear not, your sons will not chose to lead opposite paths as you and your brother did. They are twins in ever sense of the word; the bond Elladan and Elrohir share is stronger than the one that had been between you and Elros. They will follow you to Valinor, though I feel they will delay their choice.
But your daughter is a different matter. Her path lies elsewhere, but you should not fear for her either. There is much of Nana's courage and strength in little Arwen. I have heard many tales of the Lady Luthien from Elwing; I believe Arwen will follow her path, and be all the more happier for her choice. Your children will make you proud, Elrond, just as you and your brother have made me.
What is this? Elves of Mirkwood in Imladris' borders? I thought you had cared little for them, Elrond. But I see I am mistaken. You care very deeply for them, and for their King I see. You are walking hand-in-hand with him, and a bright smile is upon your face. You have always felt love towards Thranduil since your days in the Last Alliance. Love too you felt for the Lady Celebrķan, the mother of your children. Your marriage vows to her cannot be broken, even now that she has long sailed, but your heart has gone out to the Woodland King. Fear not, ion-nīn. You have not betrayed your lady by uniting with Thranduil, for she too has found another and wishes you all the best. As do I and your mother.
Ah, now I understand where your eldest inherited a liking for Woodland Elves. Legolas is a match for Elladan, I must say; they will perform many great deeds together in the coming years. Elladan seems happy, and very much in love. The Woodland Prince is very fair indeed, I can easily understand how Elladan fell for him. Did you know he sent a prayer up to me the first time Legolas visited, Elrond? He was afraid the young prince would not return his affections. Imagine that! But he had no need of fear then, nor does he now. You are greatly loved, Elladan; never doubt your beloved's feelings towards you.
A party from Lothlórien, how very unexpected. No doubt Celeborn and Galadriel were anxious to visit their grandchildren, but it seems some of their Galadhrim were anxious for a visit as well. Do you see it, ion-nīn? Do you see how Elrohir's eyes light up seeing the eldest brother of Haldir? Of course you see; you've known about them for years. There you are, smiling brightly as your youngest son enthusiastically greets silent Orophin. It seems there are two others of your household who share a liking for the brothers three.
Ah, my dear child, how I long to hear you speak of your children to me, but alas, I am denied such an opportunity. I can only sit upon my vessel and watch the happiness you all are experiencing. It is enough for me to see the light shining in your eyes. I hope, though, that one day you and I may reunite, and I may be able to hear your voice. I have almost forgotten how you sound; indeed when you gaze up at me, I can only catch the faintest of whispers of the speeches you might utter.
Do you resent me for not spending enough time with you and your brother in your youths? I see no resentment in your eyes, but I doubt myself sometimes. I did love you, ion-nīn; I still do. Forgive me for not being there for you in person. My heart goes out to you, dear Elrond. Be there for your children as you always have been, be the father I could no be. I hope one day, on the day you arrive to Valinor, we can be what you are to your children. I look forward to that day.
And now you are all retiring; no doubt the feast earlier and the unexpected arrival of the Lórien party has worn you all out. Or has it? I can't help the laughter that escapes me as I watch Elladan nearly hauling the Prince of Mirkwood from his seat and off to bed. Elrohir is more subtle, but in no less of a hurry I see. Do not deny you feel the same as your sons; I see it in your eyes, Elrond, how you hunger for Thranduil's touch though you remain reserved. Go ahead, ion-nīn, be a giddy little elfling again, no one will fault you.
I sigh deeply in contentment as you retire and I am left alone once again. Ah, but look! Oropher is coming my way; no doubt he wishes to speak of the union between our sons. He will be pleasant company until my journey comes to its end.
Sleep well, my children; I will help guard your dreams and your hearts. Tinnu maer.
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Night Voyage by Aduial
Story notes: EƤrendil's point-of-view. No real slashiness, just mentioned of pairings and the barest hints of what's occurring. It's mostly all about EƤrendil in a one-sided conversation he has. There seemed to be a lack of stories focusing on EƤrendil so I decided to write an innocent one.
Inspired by a drawing made by Yu Nazuki.
Chapter end notes: Translations:
Ada-Father
Nana-Mother
Ion-nƮn-My son
Tinnu maer-Good night
