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Shoutbox

Narya
12/12/17 11:12 pm
Oh, ziggy, btw, are you happy with Friday or is Saturday easier for you? I can do either.
Narya
12/12/17 03:27 pm
Great pair of chapters, ziggy and cheeky! I'm so excited to see what happens next.
NelyafinweFeanorion
12/12/17 02:12 pm
Ok Ziggy Thursday it is for me!
cheekybeak
12/12/17 10:28 am
I managed it :-) and even got the next chapter up early! Not my best, but it was a busy day. That's my excuse.
ziggy
12/12/17 07:26 am
@Cheekybeak- Haha! Serves you right for the last curved ball:D Nelya- yes, fine. You do Thursday, I'll find it easier doing Friday anyway.
NelyafinweFeanorion
12/12/17 01:14 am
Ziggy do you have Thursday too? If not I can do Thursday instead of Friday if someone else wants to pick up Friday? Let me know!
cheekybeak
12/12/17 01:05 am
Oh, seriously, Ziggy?? What are you doing to me?! How do I follow that???
cheekybeak
12/12/17 12:58 am
Me!
ziggy
12/12/17 12:16 am
OK- sorry ! Who's next?
ziggy
12/11/17 10:41 pm
I am onto the next chapter but got home very late- apologies. Scribbling away as we speak (sort of)
Shout Archive


This Time... by Ysilme

[Reviews - 2]   Printer
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Disclaimer: This is a work of transformative fiction based on JRR Tolkien’s creation, done purely for enjoyment. No infringement is intended and no money is being made.

Written for Independence1776 for her fandom stocking 2014. She requested “Elrond at any point in time” and this image: Strandhill, Ireland, which has also been used for the story banner. Photo courtesy PDPhoto.org.

Many thanks to Lordhellebore for the beta. All remaining mistakes are my own.

Estuary with rainbow and story title

 

Elrond dismounts, gesturing to his escort to stay behind. He needs to do this alone, so he walks down to the beach, leaving it to his men to make camp. When he had got word that he would be here, Elrond had left Imladris in a rush, travelling to Harlindon as quickly as he could, to a wide estuary to the south of the Blue Mountains.

Elrond stops at the bank, looking out. The area is deserted, the next settlement, a village of Men, half a day’s ride away. A darker shade in the slope to the north suggests a cave, and a fine tendril of smoke rises into the crisp air. He lets his mind wander, remembers. Sirion, his mother flying away. Feeling deserted, just he and his brother left, and despair as people around them fled the burning city.

He senses a presence behind him. He knows who it is, can still feel it after all this time.

“Atto,” he says with a smile. He turns.

“Elrond.”

The tall, dark-haired Noldo looks at him solemnly. There is no smile in his eyes, just the barest recognition of his visitor, but he does not refuse the tight embrace Elrond is giving him.

He looks worn out. What little Elrond knows about him these days indicates a bleak, a solitary life. But this is what Maglor wants, what he sees as his punishment. Ever since that fateful day when he had lost his last brother, Maglor has been wandering the lands of Middle-earth, never accepting company nor staying anywhere close to where people live, living off the land with the occasional trade of a fur or two. He prefers the company of trees and stars and to observe, but not to take part. Elrond knows he is trying to escape his pain this way, but he doubts that it is very successful.

“Come,” he says, “I have food, and clothes.”

Maglor nods and follows him to the camp. This is not the first time they meet, since Sirion, but it does not happen often either. No matter how much Maglor refuses, Elrond always insists that he eat and accept some bare necessities like a new knife, clothes, boots and such. But he has given up inviting Maglor to come to Imladris, even just for a visit.

This time, however, something is different.

After the meal and an afternoon spent mostly being silent together, they stand at the beach again, looking out. A rainbow spreads over the estuary, painting the leaden sky behind in bright colours and, wher it ends, making the dark woods glow in reds, oranges and yellows.

“I will come,” Maglor says.

Elrond spins around, staring at him, a spark of hope lighting up in his eyes.

“What do you mean?”

Maglor gives a crooked smile. “To your home. Not today, but soon. I will come.”

~ finis ~

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