The Straight Path. by hennethgalad

Chapter 1

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   They were waiting for Elrond to return. Lindir had fallen asleep, his hair pooled about his head sprawled on the table. Círdan leaned forwards and lifted the inkwell out of reach of the flailing arm, still gesturing, even in sleep, at the altered sky.
   More had changed than the great wave, they now knew. The Music had sounded, clearer than had ever been heard by the eldar, in one resounding chord of unimaginable power, and everything had changed. It was stranger and more shocking even than the Darkening, many new differences becoming apparent with each passing day, and each night.
   But strangest of all was the dream, shared by the bearers of the Three Rings, a dream of sailing.

   The ship was silent, no sound of bird nor wave nor creak of board intruded upon their vision, the ship cut cleanly through the swell of the deep sea, alone with the empty horizon. But deep within them, felt, rather than heard, the Music rose in intensity, melodies of eerie beauty counterpointing storms of turbulent rhythm. But the ship was silent. They could not tell that it was rising, so smooth was the motion, until there was no doubt that the keel had lifted above the water, sailing now only in air. The Music diminished, until only a few simple notes sounded, horncalls of travellers crying farewell, and greeting.
   Each had felt fear, until as their course became known to them, each laughed, for the ship was driven forward by the very wind of the stars, carrying them on to the glittering path laid so clearly across the sky by Elbereth, or by Eru Ilúvatar himself. 
   But as the Music grew again, into a mighty fanfare of resonance with the wondrous stars that lit their path, that made their path, and they felt their cares fall away as they marvelled, they turned their thought to middle-earth, and looked back, and were silenced in turn, with spirit-shattering shock. The unimaginable hands of Eru had reshaped middle-earth altogether, in a moment of boundless power, into a solid sphere, separated and utterly apart from Valinor and all elvenhome. 

   Elrond returned, his face more drawn and wretched than ever. For Elrond took upon himself the guilt for the deeds of his kin. Galadriel sighed, his kin were so numerous that he would have been unhappy even if they had not been kinslayers, and invaders of Valinor. "Elrond! You are not to blame! They are distant kin, they paid no heed to your counsel, nor any other! You must cease this punishment of yourself!" She paused and looked at his bowed head "We need you, Elrond, we need your wisdom, your strength, and indeed, your tidings. How is it with Elendil?"
   Elrond lifted his head slowly, but his eyes remained unseeing, and his voice was toneless "They know nothing. They saw Númenor fall, they sailed here on the vanguard of the storm, on the very crest of the wave, but they did not hear... they know nothing."
   Lindir stirred and muttered in his sleep. Gil-galad looked at him with a sad smile "Can someone help our star-gazer to his bed? Few have worked so hard to study these... these things."
   As guards half-led, half-carried the exhausted scholar away, Círdan said "This dream... Do we take it to be... Is it..."
   Gil-galad looked at Galadriel, who sighed and looked out of the window "You mean, do I think that what we saw was something that will happen, something that can happen? That we can sail through the sky? Rise to fly among the stars as though they were mere birds upon the wave?" She paused and stared out through the window. Night had fallen, the lights of Mithlond glittered on the dark water like stars fallen to earth. For a moment she pictured each light rising into the sky to form a new star, and smiled. But there, far across the sea, the path of stars rose shining into the dark sky, and she laughed aloud "Yes! Yes I do. What clearer sign could we ask? The path is here." Galadriel paused again, and in a voice she scarcely recognised, the voice of the child she had once been, said "The world is changed."