Chapter Text
Elrond stood on the top of Elwing’s tower with the wind whipping his hair. He was holding hands with his wife, Celebrían, who was looking at the sunrise and smiling. She noticed his glance. “Elrond,” she scolded, “Stop looking at me! You’re going to miss the best part.”
“You are the best part,” he said.
“Shh! You’re such a romantic. Isn’t he?”
“He gets it from the best,” Elwing said proudly. She was standing sedately in the center of the tower, her hands clasped and her face turned towards the rising sun. She really did look like a female version of Elrond, which now seemed a resemblance to his daughter Arwen. He’d always known his first real meeting with his mother would be painful; he hadn’t even remotely guessed that. Celebrían had visited Elwing often since she’d first come to Valinor, but she’d confided in him that she still hadn't really gotten used to it. (His sons, for their part, had a skill and penchant for fighting that he suspected came directly from Eӓrendil.)
“I’m surprised you’re so calm about this,” Galadriel noted. “This is the first time you’ve ever met your father, isn’t it?”
Elrond shrugged.
The sun at last detached itself from the horizon in a flood of pink and violet. A small light shone brightly below it. “Ooh! Ooh! This is it!” Celebrían said, tugging at Elrond’s sleeve. “Look carefully!”
“Just be careful,” Elwing said. “The transition back home can be hard for him sometimes, especially after these longer trips.”
Before she could explain, the light at the horizon grew in size. Larger, and larger, and then suddenly it was a ship, sailing steadily towards the tower. Celebrían and Elwing whooped and clapped, and after a moment Elrond joined in, followed by Galadriel.
The Vingilot looked just as he remembered it. And above it, heaving a rope ladder over the side—
Eӓrendil.
Gil-galad.
His father.
Elrond hesitated for a moment, then climbed up the ladder. (Behind him, he heard Galadriel splutter. Good! About time she was surprised by something.)
Elrond’s father reached out a hand and pulled him up the last few steps. Elrond hopped onto the deck, and regarded him.
Eӓrendil had the silmaril bound to his brow, glowing with a beauty so sharp that it hurt to look upon. His raiment was of pure pearlescent silk below a long sleeveless surcoat threaded with gold and silver. His clothes were open about the neck, a sailor’s shirt, but there were no scars or flaws there—not even a memory of the burning hand that Elrond had seen clasp around his throat. Even his old scars, the burn on his arm that Elrond eventually learned came from his fight with Ancagalon, were missing. His hair was a golden halo about his head, cut about the shoulders in an unfamiliar mannish style. He stood slightly lifted on his toes, as if he himself was flying.
His eyes were the same shocking blue as always, but there were no shadows in them, nor recognition. Eӓrendil looked at him evenly, calmly, and for a suspended moment Elrond didn’t know if his father even knew who he was.
Stars don’t feel pain. Stars don’t feel anything. …All these centuries, and Elrond hadn’t really thought about what that might mean.
“Greetings,” Eӓrendil said. “My name is—”
Elrond lunged at him and flung his arms about his neck.
Eӓrendil stepped back, then, hesitantly, curled his arms around Elrond’s back.
“El—El—”
“It’s me,” Elrond said. “Your Majesty, don’t you remember me? It’s Elrond. It’s your son!”
“You… Elrond?“ Eӓrendil hesitated a moment longer—then he cried out and embraced Elrond back with a fervor, and buried his head in Elrond’s shoulder. “Oh! Elrond! I’m so sorry! I’m so… I’m sorry, Elrond, I’m sorry for everything.”
Elrond nodded into his shoulder.
Behind them, Celebrían clambered off the ladder. Elrond finally let go and turned back to his wife.
“Well, as I told you ahead of time, there won’t be any issues making introductions at all,” Celebrían said primly to Galadriel. “See? All done. So you really didn’t need to keep reminding me.”
Galadriel informed her, “I am restraining myself because we are in polite company. But we will be talking about this.” She stabbed a finger at Eӓrendil. “You too, Gil-galad, you bastard. Everyone told me you were still locked in the Halls of Dead! There’s talk of rioting if they don’t let you out soon! People miss you, goddammit!”
Eӓrendil bowed. “I apologize for the deception. It was a necessity, but an unfortunate one.” He was clearly still off-balance.
“Didn’t you always tell me not to share other people’s secrets, Mother?” Celebrían asked, batting her eyes innocently.
“You are a different problem altogether!”
Celebrían laughed, then looked around. “Where did Elwing go?”
On cue, a white bird landed on the railing, shimmered, and turned into a woman in a white dress. “Just keeping an eye out,” she said cheerfully. “Eӓrendil, darling, did you remember the gift?”
“The what?” Eӓrendil blinked. Then recognition hit. “Oh! Right! Yes! One moment please.” He dashed over to a random section of the deck, yanked open a panel, and returned with a piece of stone dangling from a cord.
“Elrond. I… It’s been a long time. So much has happened that I could only see from afar. I wasn’t there with you, and—you were right, and—”
“Don’t try to say it,” Elrond said. “I understand.”
Eӓrendil struggled with himself more, then finally said, “I got you a present. It might not be a gem of Fëanor like you got from Maglor, but I think it’s quite a tidy gift regardless.”
Elrond examined the stone closely. It was made of nothing he’d ever seen before, in all his thousands of years on earth. He looked at Eӓrendil questioningly.
“A moon-rock. From the moon—but not from Tilion. It seems that when the world was bent, removing Valinor from mortal lands and rounding the world to a sphere—well, there were some side effects. There’s a lot more to heaven and earth than we ever dreamt of, Elrond, and since I’m not quite a full elf, I’ve been - well. Exploring. Some of my friends join me from time to time. Celebrimbor has returned, and he joins me from time to time. If—you ever want—you’re welcome to as well.”
“You found another way to cheat the system,” Elrond said.
Eӓrendil smiled crookedly. “I suppose I did.” He took a deep breath. “God. I’ve missed you, kid.”
“Yeah,” Elrond said. “Me too.”