Sandcastles by StarSpray

Chapter 1

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It was a beautiful day, cloudless, the sun shining brightly on the sea and making the wave tips glitter like diamonds. Fishing boats dotted the bay, and in the distance Balar rose dark and solid out of the water. Gulls wheeled overhead, calling to one another, as Elwing followed Elrond and Elros to the beach. They scrambled over the dunes, laughing and chattering to each other about what they would build today.

Elwing herself carried a basket, with bread and cheese and blackberries for lunch, and a blanket to spread across the sand. She had also tucked a spyglass into the basket, a surprise for the boys, who liked to scan the horizon for a glimpse of Vingilot's familiar sails—or, failing that, counting all of the fishing boats they could find, and trying to identify the larger vessels that came and went on occasion from Balar.

As she dropped the basket to the ground at the base of a sand dune, the boys kicked off their shoes and fumbled with their clothes, eager to get into the water. "Don't leave them in the ground," she warned as Elrond finally got his shirt off. "Put your clothes on the blanket, or they'll be full of sand when you want to put them on again." Elrond made a face at the thought of sand-filled clothes, and both he and Elros even made an attempt at folding their things, with limited success, before darting out to splash in the waves. Elwing slipped off her own shoes and settled herself on the blanket to watch them.

She had vague memories of her brothers playing similar games, first beneath Lanthir Lamath on sunlit Tol Galen, and then in the shade of Doriath, on the banks of Esgalduin. She had only paddled a bit in the shallows with her mother or father there to hold her. And when she had come to Sirion she had avoided the shore, and hadn't learned to swim until Eärendil had found out she couldn't and insisted on teaching her. He had taught the boys, too, but Elwing didn't like to let them out beyond the shallows when Eärendil wasn't there to swim with them.

They tired of splashing swiftly enough, and turned their attention to building. In the past they had built simple towers, trying to make them as tall as they could, and enlisting Elwing's help when they could no longer reach the tops. But today they settled down in the sand and carefully crafted a city, with streets drawn with sand-crusted fingers, and buildings of various sizes, and populated by pebbles and seashells—several of which turned out to house hermit crabs, to the boys' delight.

"Look, Nana!" Elros said as they began work on the outer wall. "See our city?"

"I do see it," Elwing said. "It's beautiful."

"I'm going to build real ones, when I'm older," Elros informed her gravely. "Big ones, of stone!"

Elwing smiled, wishing there was hope for such dreams. For a moment she could see it so clearly in her mind's eye, Elros as a man grown in a grand, vaulted hall of marble, in a city with shining streets and tree-lined avenues. But it was only a passing fancy—where would he build such a place, and who would live there?

Elrond got to his feet, squinting across the bay. "Nana, Elros, look!" he cried, pointing suddenly to a dark spot on the horizon. "Is it Ada?"

Elwing pulled the spyglass from the basket and put it to her eye. She expected to see nothing but a fishing vessel, or some new ship of Círdan's returning from its maiden voyage. But when she focused on it she saw familiar sails and a banner bearing the sign of the House of Tuor—and at the prow a familiar figure with golden hair, leaning out into the wind.

Elrond and Elros had both come to stand beside her, waiting impatiently for their turn with the glass. "You have keen eyes, Elrond," she said, handing him the spyglass first, since he had been the one to first spot the ship. He peered through it and squealed with delight on recognizing Vingilot. Elros jumped up and down until Elrond handed the glass over to him. "Come on, then, both of you," Elwing said, getting to her feet. "Rinse off all that sand, and get dressed so we can go to the harbor!"
It was several hours before Vingilot reached Sirion's harbor. Eärendil leaped off the deck the moment it was close enough, and scooped up both boys when they ran to him. Elwing followed at a slightly more dignified pace. "Ah, my love." Eärendil kissed her, both of them ignoring the indignantly disgusted noises both Elrond and Elros made. "I missed you."

"We missed you too," Elwing said, smiling. He was back and safe, and it felt like a heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

The boys clamored about their city of sand, insisting that Eärendil go to the beach with them before they went home. Elwing tried to scold them, since it was obvious to her that Eärendil was exhausted and discouraged, no matter how big his smile, but he laughed and waved her off. When Vingilot was properly seen to, and his mariners dispersed to their own homes and families, he wrapped an arm around Elwing's shoulders, and they followed Elrond and Elros back to the beach, the boys running ahead and back.

"Oh no…" Elwing heard Elros' voice drift back around the sand dunes as they approached their picnic spot. When she and Eärendil caught up, they found the tide had come in, and only a small mound from the tallest sandcastle remained of the boys' city. "It's all washed away," Elros said, chin trembling.

"That's the fate of all sandcastles, I'm afraid," Eärendil said, kneeling between Elrond and Elros. "Even sand-cities. But perhaps tomorrow we can come down again, and build another one together?"

This cheered the boys immediately, and they turned away from the ruined sand-city, holding Eärendil's hands as they made their way homeward. Before she turned to join them, Elwing watched a wave rise up to wash the final mound of sand away, back toward the sea.