Far Longer Than Forever 4

Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Universe: 100% AU. Sorry not sorry, Professor T.
Chapter Rating: K+
Pairings: past Elrond/Gil-galad, Gil-Galad/??

If you haven't yet read One Hundred, I strongly recommend that you do so, because the events of that ficlet play a pretty big role here.

This chapter gets a bit strange, but stick with it. It may not be what you think.

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Chapter Four - Could we start again, please?

Elrond was strolling down an aisle in the library, looking for a certain historical text that he could remember nothing about, save that it was bound in green leather, when Erestor called out to him.

"Elrond, the post is here."

The half-elf abandoned his search and headed over to the reception desk where Erestor was thumbing through a pile of envelopes, checking the seals and sorting them into, presumably, urgent and non-urgent piles. Erestor thrust a single letter at the half-elf.

He barely took the time to say "it's from Círdan," before going back to his sorting.

Elrond raised an amused eyebrow at Erestor's young apprentice Annaeth, who smiled back and shrugged.

"Did you find the book you were looking for?" she asked.

Elrond shook his head. "No. I think it's called The First Horse-Lords, or something to that effect. But I don't remember who wrote it which is making it harder to find."

"Is that the one with the horsehead on the top of the spine? Bound in green leather with gold leaf lettering, written by what’s-his-face? The one with the beard?"

Elrond nodded, "Yes that's the one."

"I know where that is, hold on!" Ann practically leapt out of her chair and disappeared down one of the aisles in search of the elusive tome.

Elrond smiled at her enthusiasm and turned his attention to the letter in his hand. Erestor finished his sorting as Elrond read through it, and took note of the deep frown on his friend's face.

"What is it? What does he say?"

Elrond shook his head. "I don't...it makes no sense." He turned the page over in search of more writing, but there was none. "It says," he began, looking up at his advisor, "that Ereinion's body is gone."

"Gone?"

"Yes, apparently. He says 'In short, the King's body is missing. I woke in the night with the feeling that I needed to go to the Hall of Kings, and when I got there the casket was empty. The glass was intact and the locks show no sign of being forced. It's as if he was never in there at all.'"

Erestor was baffled. "But...who would take it? And for what purpose? This isn't some human's sensational mystery novel, people don't actually go around stealing bodies. Especially not Elves."

"Maybe he's been reborn," Ann suggested as she returned, the subject of Elrond's search in her arms. She placed it down on the table in front of the elf lord. "It was in the wrong section. I noticed it yesterday when I had my hands full and forgot to go back and move it."

"Thank you," Elrond said. "Did you say 'reborn'?"

Ann nodded. "Embrethil's friend Colyávëwen has a cousin whose mother's friend's daughter...or was it sister?...anyway, whoever it was said they saw him in Mithlond."

Elrond raised his eyebrows. "Busy elf. That's, what, the twenty-fifth time he's been reborn this century?"

"Maybe it's true this time?" Erestor suggested.

Elrond shook his head and picked up the green book. "Erestor, I've heard this rumour far too many times for it to ever be true. Even if the Valar did take it for him, it's probably so he can be re-bodied in Valinor." He sighed. "Nienna, give me strength. I know this is everyone's favourite rumour but I wish they would just stop. For those of us who actually knew him, it just...hurts."

He crumpled up the letter and put it in his pocket, then indicated the book in his arms. "I have to take this to the bookshop. Colm needs to borrow it so he can make a copy. Keep the place running, will you?"

Erestor nodded and Elrond turned and left the room.

Ann looked worriedly at her mentor. "Was that me? Did I upset him?"

Erestor shook his head. "It's alright, Ann. Elrond won't be upset with you. He's right, we've heard this rumour far too often now. The first few times we hoped it would be true, but it never was and hoping just started to hurt. Somedays, even hearing it is enough to cause him pain."

"They loved each other, didn't they?" she asked quietly. "As more than just friends."

"Yes," her mentor said with a sigh. He gave her a searching look. "How did you know?"

She shrugged. "It's there in all the texts, if you know how to read between the lines. The chroniclers are forthcoming about the specific nature of every other relationship except theirs. It was the fact that everyone's so vague about it that made me wonder. And now..."

"...no one ever speaks of Gil-galad," Erestor finished with a rueful smile. "Especially not in front of Elrond." Ann nodded.

"That's very perceptive of you," he praised. "Not many people have picked up on that, well done."

Annaeth glowed under the compliment as Erestor gathered up his papers. "Alright, kid. Looks like it's me and you in charge today. Let's go."

Ann smiled and hopped off her chair again to follow him out into the house.

<><><><><>

"I've been living to see you
Dying to see you, but it shouldn't be like this
This was unexpected, what do I do now?
Could we start again, please..."

<>

In short, the King's body is missing...

missing...

The King...

The words that had troubled Elrond all day haunted his sleeping mind as hissing whispers. Missing, Círdan had said. There one day and inexplicably gone the next; the locks unforced, the glass unbroken. There was no need to specify which King it was. Only one King's body was kept there. Elrond frowned in his sleep, his dream-self opening his eyes to find himself in Mithlond's Hall of Kings. He walked through the hallway, past the standards of various fallen kings, Sindar and Noldor alike, to the one he was seeking.

He always knew the way to Ereinion's memorial, but it was even more familiar to him now, given that he had visited it just three seasons past when escorting Celebrían to the Havens so she could sail. Elrond's dream-self closed his eyes again as the wave of recent heartache crashed over the rocky shore of the ever-present pain of the past.

He opened his eyes and saw the glinting gold edge of Ereinion's standard, hanging above the ledge that held his coffin. Filled with apprehension but unable to stop, he moved forward. A few steps more revealed that the casket was indeed empty.

"My Lord!"

The voice calling Elrond's name was distorted, as if heard from under water. His dream-self had no time to react to the absence of Ereinion's body as his mind began to kick itself to the surface of sleep. After two more repeats of his name, it managed to emerge into the daylight. Elrond passed his hands over his face and succeeded in getting onto his feet, staggering sleepily to the door of his rooms and opening it to find a page, who was looking unnaturally alert for such an early hour of the morning.

"Yes?"

"There are travellers approaching the border. Erestor thinks one of them is Círdan, and told me to wake you up to tell you."

Elrond frowned as his mind slowly processed this information. "Erestor told you...to wake me up because Círdan is arriving."

"Yes, my Lord."

Elrond didn't see how this news was important enough to warrant specifically waking him up to hear it, but he brushed it off. He should probably be awake anyway. "Who is the other?"

"I don't know, sir. They're wearing a cloak with the hood up."

"Alright. Thank you, I'll be down directly."

The page nodded and hurried off on his next errand.

Elrond wearily shut the door of his rooms and went to make himself presentable. It took substantially less time to do so than he was anticipating, so it felt like only minutes later that he was on his way.

He entered his study and sat down to begin the day by reading his correspondence. He had just opened the first letter when Erestor appeared in front of the desk. Elrond glanced up and jumped.

"Círdan and his companion will be here in an hour," Erestor announced serenely, oblivious to the heart attack he had nearly caused.

"By the Valar, Erestor!" Elrond pressed a hand against his pounding heart. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"Sorry," Erestor said mildly.

"An hour, did you say?" Elrond repeated. "But they were beyond the border not long ago," he continued when Erestor nodded.

"They aren't wasting any time," Erestor replied. "Their errand must be important."

"Yes," Elrond agreed. He frowned at the letter in his hands. He knew there were words on the page, but he couldn't concentrate on any of them long enough to make them out. A glance up at Erestor's face revealed a similar inability to concentrate. Elrond blinked to clear his vision but couldn't get it to cooperate.

"Are you alright?"

Elrond nodded. "Yes. I think I'm getting a headache."

He was just reaching up to rub his temples when the gate-horns sounded the approach of the travellers.

Elrond looked up sharply in the direction of the window, and then at Erestor. "I thought you said an hour!"

Erestor just shrugged. "I'll go down and meet them." He opened the door to leave and found that Círdan and his mysterious hooded companion were already standing outside the door.

"Mae govannen, Otaro," Erestor greeted, hugging his foster father. If he was surprised at the haste of their arrival, he didn't show it.

"I apologise for not being in the courtyard to meet you," Elrond said, standing and moving out from behind his desk, "but I'm afraid you arrived rather too quickly for us to get there. Do you have wings on your boots?"

"I wish I did," Círdan grinned, letting go of Erestor, who went back to his own study with little more than a curious glance at Círdan's companion. "It has been a very long and difficult trip. I feel like we have been travelling for days just to get here from the border," the shipwright continued.

"Truly? It feels like scarcely hours for my part." Elrond looked at the hooded traveller, and a curious, shivery feeling shot down his spine. "Who is your companion?"

"Ah," Círdan smiled a knowing smile and turned to the hooded figure. "Hâlpen, I will leave this one to you."

Hâlpen? But...no, it can't be...

The shipwright slipped out of the room. Elrond registered in the back of his mind that being left alone with an unknown person was not a good situation to be in, but he could not move or cry out even if he wanted to. The figure stepped forward, lifted his hands to the edge of his hood, and flicked it back.

Elrond stared at him in shock. The surreal, blurred-at-the-edges quality the world had had all morning suddenly disappeared. Everything snapped into acute clarity, then hazed, and then he saw nothing.

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"Elrond? Elrond!"

"Stop shouting," he muttered. He became aware that he was lying on the carpet, his torso supported by a pair of solid, muscled arms that were wonderfully familiar. He opened his eyes with some effort and looked at the long-unseen face that was smiling at him.

"O for the touch of a vanish'd hand, and the sound of a voice that is still," Elrond murmured, still not quite with it.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, never mind. Sorry." Elrond shook the last of the cobwebs from his mind and sat up, disentangling himself reluctantly from those arms. He passed a hand over his face. "Did I pass out?"

"Yes," Ereinion replied.

Elrond regarded the elf in front of him, still not quite believing his eyes. "Ereinion."

"Yes."

"You're...alive."

"Yes."

Elrond nodded, slowly. "...Why?"

Ereinion shrugged. "I don't know. I don't remember anything after the...the fire."

"Nothing?"

Ereinion shook his head.

"This doesn't make sense," Elrond whispered. "Nothing about this day makes sense."

He sighed, and then smiled at Ereinion. "It is so good to see you."

Ereinion grinned back at him and leaned forward to wrap him in a hug. "You too. I have missed you, my friend."

Elrond was troubled by the strangely impersonal endearment, but put his worry aside and hugged back. So much about this situation was uncertain, on both their parts, so perhaps it was best for them both to err on the side of caution when it came to interacting with each other.

Their hug was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," came Erestor's voice, "but news has spread so Ereinion should probably come out and make himself known."

"How does he know it was you?" Elrond asked. Ereinion shrugged again as he stood up. "Maybe Círdan told him."

He put a hand out to Elrond, who took it and allowed the reborn elf to pull him to his feet. Elrond dusted himself off and straightened his robes and followed Ereinion out of the study to reintroduce him to the world.

<><><><><>

Later that night, after a full day of introductions and a lavish welcome feast, Elrond and Ereinion were relaxing with a glass of wine each in front of the fire in Ereinion's room.

"You look as if you've never seen this room before," Ereinion commented, watching Elrond look around with interest.

The half-elf laughed once. "I just...forgot that it looked so much like your chambers in Forlond. I was sure it was blue, not red." He shook his head. "Never mind, I must be remembering wrong. It has been a very strange day, after all."

Ereinion smiled and nodded and agreement. "That it has. I wanted them to be as much like my other chambers as possible," he added after a minute.

"Hm?"

"These rooms," Ereinion explained. "They're an almost exact replica. So it would feel more like home."

"I thought Imladris was your home." That's what Ereinion had always said. After spending most of his life in Balar, Forlond had always felt too transient and temporary to be like home for him, even after it became the biggest city in Forlindon. It was even less like home when Elrond moved east and built his own city. But Elrond distinctly remembered finding Ereinion on his balcony one night with an unfamiliar expression on his face. When asked, the King had said that he felt like he belonged in Imladris in ways that he never had anywhere else. Even after being there for less than an entire day, he felt like he had lived there his whole life.

"Imladris is everyone's home," Ereinion replied, startling Elrond out of his thoughts by vocalising the same words that the half-elf had, all of those years ago. But the tone was different, slightly mocking and sarcastic. Ereinion smiled to soften the effect, then went back to looking at the fire.

Elrond frowned for what seemed like the thousandth time that day. Something was wrong, he had felt it ever since he woke up. He glanced at his glass of wine and took a sip, thinking perhaps there was something in it that shouldn't be there. It was not the best wine, oddly tasteless for vintage Dorwinion, but it seemed innocent enough. Regardless, he put it aside. He needed to go and sleep this off, whatever it was.

"I should go," he said quietly. Ereinion looked a bit sad at the prospect, but nodded. They stood and embraced, and when they broke apart Elrond hesitated as he turned to leave. There was something he had wanted to do ever since Ereinion had appeared in his study, but he had resisted it all day. Heart pounding, he threw caution to the wind and grasped Ereinion's face, leaning in to press their lips together.

Ereinion went motionless in surprise...and did not relax. Elrond immediately stepped back, now absolutely sure that things were not as they should be.

"What was that for?" Ereinion asked, genuinely confused.

"What do you mean, 'What was that for'?"

Ereinion shook his head. "I did not know your tastes ran such ways."

"What? Of course you do! We-" A sudden, sick realisation dawned on Elrond. "Ereinion, what happened in your study the day before my centenary?"

The reborn elf frowned, not following this sudden change of topic. "We... played chess, I expect."

"You're not even going to accuse me of cheating on that game?"

"No, you never cheat. Elrond, what is going on?"

It was a long-running in-joke of theirs that Elrond had made an illegal move in order to get the upper hand that day, and then somehow hidden the rulebook so that Ereinion couldn't check. Elrond took a deep breath in an attempt to steady himself. If Ereinion didn't remember that day, what else didn't he remember?

Elrond could barely bring himself to ask, but he knew he had to. "What about on my centenary? You threw me a begetting day party. What happened afterwards?"

"We went back to my rooms for a nightcap."

Elrond brought a hand to his mouth, hardly daring to hope. "And then?"

"You...went to your rooms and I went to sleep."

Elrond broke.

He hid his face in his hands as his heart seized. The strange lack of intimacy that he had first noticed in his study and that had been present all day now made sense. He wished it didn't. "You don't remember. Valar have mercy, you don't remember."

Ereinion was alive again. Alive, but without the memories of their relationship. Three thousand years of the deepest, truest love Arda had ever known, and Ereinion remembered none of it. Elrond knew that everything had a price, but he had never dared to think that the Valar would be so cruel as to give Ereinion back to him but ensure they were kept apart in the most brutal of ways.

"Remember what? Elrond..."

Ereinion had moved forward in concern when Elrond's shoulders started to tremble. He put a hand out in an attempt to comfort him. "My friend..."

Elrond abruptly straightened and moved away. "Don't! Do not touch me. I- I have to go." He bowed hastily, struggling to keep his voice from breaking. "Goodnight, my lord, I apologise if my actions have caused offence. I fear I am not myself. Goodnight."

"Elrond, wait!"

Elrond didn't turn back, but headed straight for the door that adjoined their rooms. Since when were these rooms adjoined? Once again, it did not seem right, but he brushed it off in his need to be anywhere but in that room. He made it through the door moments before Ereinion reached it, and closed and bolted it from his side. As an afterthought, he stumbled to the main door of his apartment and bolted that too.

He tried to breathe deeply as he opened his eyes and looked around. His rooms looked strange too. His bedroom should be to the left, where that door was, but the bed was visible instead through the door on his right. He could hear the waterfall rushing past but couldn't see it through the balcony doors. It looked like these were the rooms he'd had in Forlond, but how could they be here in Rivendell?

He felt sick. Everything hurt, inside and out, and he was dizzy. He pushed himself away from the door and took a step, aiming for the bedroom, but never made it. The spinning in his head intensified and his knees buckled. He only just managed to catch himself on his hands before he hit the floor.

He could feel his grip on the present beginning to slip as a vision took over.

"No...no, please, not now..."

His pleas did nothing, and Elrond fought against it even as he opened his inner eyes to find himself in the courtyard at the palace in Forlond. He could hear traditional wedding music playing and he looked up at the couple on the stairs.

It was Ereinion, and a woman he didn't know.

Mithrandir was presiding, and was speaking about how Ereinion's return was a gift from the Valar and how Elvenkind could only benefit from having its High King back. He wished them a long and prosperous marriage, blessed with many children.

Elrond turned to his right and nearly melted with relief when he saw Ereinion's sister sitting there.

"Eäthiriel, what is going on?"

"It's a lovely service, Elrond," she replied, as if she hadn't heard what he'd said. "You really outdid yourself this time."

"I organised this?"

She nodded. "How nice it is for him to finally be able to marry his childhood sweetheart," she said, her voice dreamy.

"He didn't have a childhood sweetheart..." The closest thing Ereinion had had was a crush on one of his teachers. One of his male teachers.

Eäthiriel didn't reply. He frowned at her and turned back to the couple just in time to see them kiss. It lasted for much longer than etiquette and protocol required, and as the people around him cheered, Elrond felt like he was being split open.

He opened his eyes again and found himself in a nursery, looking down at a tiny elfling in a cradle. It was undoubtedly Ereinion's child.

"I'm glad you could make it, Elrond," said a voice. Elrond glanced up and saw the elf woman Ereinion had married. She smiled, the expression kindly enough but still distant, as she walked towards the cradle. "Ereinion wishes that you could spend more time here."

He didn't answer but she didn't expect him to. She gazed adoringly down at her baby. "Elflings never cease to be a marvel to me, even though we have three already. How are your children?"

Elrond opened his mouth to answer but found that he couldn't. A strange ache was crawling through his empty chest that he couldn't place, despite its familiarity.

"My love," Ereinion admonished from the doorway. "Elrond's children made their Choice. They passed from this life many years ago."

His children chose mortality?

No.

No...

The scene shifted, sparing him from the pitying looks of Ereinion and his queen and putting him instead under the gaze of Námo himself.

"What do want from me?" the Vala asked.

"Peace," Elrond heard himself saying. "Please. I have nothing and no one here. Let me have oblivion."

"Mmm. Your brother and children chose mortality, your wife denounced you when she learned their fate. Your parents do not know you, Maglor and Maedhros are forsaken. Your King, for whom you have nursed a one-sided love for your entire life, is married to someone else."

"My Lord, I know this," Elrond said quietly. Námo did not reply, and was silent for a long time. It was only when Elrond began to find the sound of his own heartbeat monotonous and unbearable that the Vala spoke again.

"Denied."

Elrond glanced up sharply. "What?"

"Your request for oblivion is denied. You will be alone for the rest of your days. This is your punishment."

"P-punishment?"

"You turned from your true path when you developed affection for the kinslayers. They were your captors and yet you loved them like you never loved your parents."

"My parents didn't l-"

"YOU WERE NOT WORTHY OF THEIR LOVE!"

Elrond shrank away from the Vala's wrath.

"That is why they left you. Regardless, you should have stayed true to them. You failed elsewhere too. You became a healer of great repute, and yet you failed to heal your King, causing his death. You failed to heal your wife. You failed to heal the broken hearts of your children. You will live forever, unloved and alone, with nothing and no one to soothe your soul. Even my sister has forsaken you. This is your lot and your fate."

"No, my Lord...please..."

"Be gone."

Námo waved his hand and Elrond found himself outside of the gates of Mandos, unable to get in and with nothing waiting for him without.

The numbness that had infused him for the last age suddenly gave way to a searing pain unlike any he had ever known. The weight of his failures and shortcomings crashed down onto him, forcing him to his knees. The reality of an eternity alone broke over him like a tidal wave, and he could not stand it.

He took a deep breath, and screamed. It was an unearthly sound that burned his tortured throat, but he couldn't stop until he ran out of breath. When that happened he found himself simply inhaling and starting again. When that one too broke off, he closed his eyes, and when he opened them again he saw the carpet of his rooms.

His head jerked up and he looked around him. His Forlond rooms, inexplicably in Imladris. Any relief he might have felt disappeared when he remembered that Ereinion was in the adjoining room with no memory of how important they had once been to each other. The vision replayed rapidly in his mind and he recognised his inevitable fate. He gasped for breath, the pain upon him once again. His hands clenched into fists on the carpet, and he inhaled and screamed again.

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Erestor awoke mere moments before the unearthly sound ripped through the manor, and was on his feet and out of his door before it had finished. He did not even stop to put his slippers and dressing gown on over his pyjamas, nor did he waste time wondering who or what could possibly have made that sound. He did not need to. He had heard it once before, on a dusty, sulphurous plain in Mordor, and it had echoed in his dreams every night after for an entire decade.

Erestor gained the second-floor landing just as the second scream rang out, and he bolted up the next set of stairs with renewed speed. The set after those led up to the residential wing, and Erestor found that more than a few elves had wandered out of their chambers to see what the commotion was. He began to reassure them - "It's nothing, it'll be alright, just go back to sleep" - when the sound came again, longer this time and far more raw. When it finally subsided, the silence in the hallway was deafening. Erestor dispensed with pleasantries.

"Go back inside," he ordered.

"My Lord Erestor, is that-?"

Erestor turned on the elf who had spoken. "Go back inside."

The elf nodded and did as he was told. Erestor strode down the hallway with renewed purpose. One look at the expression on his face all that was needed for the rest of the curious elves to wisely retreat back into their own rooms.

Only one flight of stairs now separated Erestor from the part of the house where Elrond lived, and Erestor's heart was pounding in his throat as he climbed them. He was met at the top by Eäthiriel, who wordlessly handed him a lit candle. Erestor took it and nodded his thanks, and continued on. He noticed as he passed that Elladan's door was open, and found Elrond's eldest standing outside of his father's chambers, one hand over his mouth in wordless horror, scared and worried sick by the sounds that had woken him.

Erestor swallowed as he drew nearer to the young elf, who turned at his approach. Elladan took his hand away and tried to speak, but managed only to whisper Erestor's name, the tone pleading and desperate. Erestor put a hand on the younger elf's shoulder.

"I will handle it. Go back to bed, Elladan."

"Is he...?"

"I don't know." Erestor licked his lips and exhaled shakily. "I don't know, Elladan. I will find out. Please, just go back to bed."

Elladan nodded, and with one last glance at the door to his father's chambers, turned and went back to his own rooms.

Erestor took a deep breath, and turned to face the door himself. It could not have been more than five minutes since the end of the last scream and the present moment, but Erestor felt like the last stretch of his journey had taken weeks. He steeled himself and pushed the door open, swiftly making for the bedchamber. He found Elrond tossing violently, lost in the throes of some terrible dream. Erestor sighed in relief at finding his best friend alive, and rushed to the side of the bed. He placed the candle safely on the bedside table and, after waiting for the opportune moment, seized his chance and grabbed Elrond's arms, holding them in place as he urged the half-elf to awaken.

"Elrond, wake up!" There was no response, save that the half-elf thrashed harder against the hands that held him captive.

"No...no..."

Erestor moved his hands up to Elrond's shoulders and shook him. "Elrond!"

The half-elf's eyes shot open, and his gaze flew around as his mind struggled to orient itself.

Celebrían's rooms...no, his rooms, now...the bed against the correct wall, window to the left, partially open, the rush of the waterfall audible and the highest of the spray just visible, glowing in the starlight...

Elrond weakly pulled himself free of Erestor's grip and passed a hand over his face. His rooms looked right, but he still wasn't quite sure where he was or what was happening. He looked at his advisor and noticed for the first time the worried expression Erestor was wearing.

"Erestor? What's going on? Are you alright?" he asked urgently, afraid that something bad had happened. Talking aggravated his inexplicably dry throat and he suppressed a cough.

"Am I alright?" Erestor repeated incredulously. "Elrond, you were screaming!"

"Screaming?"

Erestor nodded and Elrond frowned, trying to remember. All of a sudden the swirling remnants of his dreams slammed into him - Ereinion...the kiss...his marriage, his son, Elrond's children, leaving him, and Elrond himself left with nothing, as nothing... - and he frantically clambered out of bed, pushing past Erestor to get out of the door.

"Elrond? Where are you going?" Elrond didn't answer and Erestor chased him out of the apartment and across the hallway to the blue double doors on the opposite side.

"Elrond..."

The half-elf continued to ignore his best friend and shoved the doors open, marching inside. He had to speak to Ereinion, he had to apologise, explain, beg, something, it couldn't end like this, he wouldn't let it!

He threw open the door to the bedchamber proper, and stopped short. He had expected Ereinion to be there, but the moonlit room was empty. Not just empty; the furniture was all covered with sheets to protect it from dust, as if it had been vacant for centuries.

"What?" Elrond breathed, still not quite awake and unable to reconcile what he was seeing with what he thought he should be seeing.

He heard Erestor come up behind him and whirled around.

"Where is he?!" he demanded. "Where did he go?"

"Who?" Erestor asked. "Elrond, what's going on?"

"Ereinion! Where did Ereinion go? He was just...here..." At the sound of the King's name Erestor's expression changed, a series of emotions flickering across it too fast for Elrond to read.

"He's not here, Elrond." Erestor spoke slowly and quietly, his voice pitched low.

"But he was! He...he was. Where is he?"

"He's dead." Erestor swallowed. "He's still dead. We heard a rumour this morning that he'd come back, but you brushed it off. We all did, because it's not true. They never are."

"Dead?"

Erestor nodded. "If you saw him, it was a dream. Nothing more."

"A dream," Elrond murmured to himself, looking around the room once more. "A dream."

Erestor looked on, still concerned but no longer afraid. "Just a dream," he said.

Elrond nodded and breathed out, slowly. The adrenaline that had carried him through the last few minutes subsided, leaving him exhausted down to his very bones as he tried to sort through what was left of the emotions that had been swirling through him only moments before. Elrond wasn't sure he could name them all, but it was mostly an unholy mix of relief, confusion, residual anger and the ever-present, soul-deep sorrow that had been his constant companion for the last two and a half thousand years. Even though the dream-Ereinion hadn't remembered their relationship and had cast Elrond aside so easily, at least he had been alive.

But now, Elrond found himself once again in a world where Ereinion no longer existed, and it was all the more empty for that. The world was empty as Elrond himself was empty, and he was so unbelievably tired.

All of a sudden his knees gave out and he sank to the floor, and Elrond, who never cried, put his head in his hands and sobbed with the profound anguish of a spirit pushed beyond the limits of all endurance.