Elenna by Grundy
Fanwork Notes
Written for the Utopia/Dystopia challenge prompt "We have to build the Republic of Heaven where we are, because for us there is no elsewhere." - Philip Pullman, The Amber Spyglass
- Fanwork Information
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Summary:
Elros is building his new country - and missing those he left behind.
Major Characters: Elros
Major Relationships:
Genre:
Challenges: Utopia/Dystopia
Rating: General
Warnings:
Chapters: 1 Word Count: 1, 496 Posted on 10 September 2020 Updated on 10 September 2020 This fanwork is a work in progress.
Chapter 1
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Elros tried not to let his disappointment show when the last sailors disembarked.
He had so hoped this ship might bring his brother instead of just another letter.
Three years on, half a dozen ships had borne as many packets from Mithlond but no Elrond.
The captain looked apologetic enough as he handed over a neat bundle of papers that Elros suspected he wasn’t doing as good a job as he ought at hiding his feelings.
He should be rights be pleased – another twenty families had arrived, with three stonemasons, two weavers and a woman with a widely admired talent for growing fruit trees among them. He needed all the skilled craftsmen and -women he could entice to his new land. If the War had been hard on the elves, it had devastated the Men caught in it, destroying several generations’ worth of knowledge and skills.
It was hard work, building this new kingdom. When he’d imagined the new land Eönwë spoke of, he hadn’t pictured it quite so bare of everything. The Valar had gifted them the island itself, raising it from the ocean floor as he understood it. By the time they arrived, the land was blooming, in a spring that seemed as wondrous as the very first one must have been. But making the houses, farms, and towns he and his people envisioned was up to them.
He trudged up the hill from the quayside – improving on the excellent natural harbor gifted them had been their first priority, for ships would continue to arrive for several years yet at least. Maybe decades, if he was lucky.
It was only when he was safely in the privacy of his own tent that he cut the string and shuffled through the papers, ignoring for the moment the ones that bore Gil-galad’s seal in favor of the letter that was not only his brother’s handwriting, but addressed to ‘Elros Hardhead’ rather than ‘Elros Tar-Minyatur’.
My stubborn ass of a brother,
Despite the colorful insults included in your last reply, I do appreciate that you are eager for me to visit, and I am curious to see your Elenna. However, I would point out two things.
First, you are not the only one engaged in building projects at the moment. Though I do not doubt that your oversight is vital for your new kingdom, I must inform you that in your absence, the joyous task of making sure the Sindar and Noldor are both equally displeased with all compromises here fallen to yours truly. If you think Gil-galad is in any hurry to give up such an excellent buffer between him and all the bickering, you are very much mistaken. (It is apparently beneficial for one’s royal dignity to delegate such matters. That is Gil-galad’s excuse, at least. I suspect it’s more a matter of being able to avoid a royal headache, but not being a king myself, I am poorly placed to argue. You may perhaps make better headway.)
Elros snorted. He couldn’t imagine delegating the task of managing the various groups here to anyone else. Then again, he’d only been doing it a few years. After a yen or so of having to put up with Thranduil without the luxury of being able to tell him what a donkey he was, he’d probably be happy to stick Elrond with dealing with him too.
Second and more importantly, I am certain I told you before you left that I would wait until you had a spare room to put me in. Unless you’ve changed greatly in the past few months, you’ve been much too busy building and planning your grand cities to think about housing yourself properly. I spent more than enough time in tents the last few years of the War to not be nostalgic for camp beds and canvas walls yet. If you’re really so impatient for a visit, you know perfectly well what to do!
Elros couldn’t help feeling nettled at that. Oh, yes, brother dear, I have so much time for building a house of my own with all the rest of the building to be done on this island!
Stop pouting – and don’t pretend you aren’t, I can practically see it from here. I very much appreciated the sketches you sent of the docks and your plan for the city. I don’t think you need to fret about the name, Rómenna sounds very well for now, or it does to me at least. If your people feel otherwise and it doesn’t stick, there’s plenty of time for them to settle on another one.
Let me know if you’ve changed your mind about having some of the books sent to you. It really doesn’t feel right for me to keep them all. Surely Elenna will need a library as much as Mithlond? And anyway, some of them I should be happy to get rid of. There’s one about the Battle of Unnumbered Tears that’s truly awful to read – though it doesn’t seem to affect Men as badly. That young scholar I told you about thought it was a splendid account.
Elros had to smother a laugh, because that ‘young scholar’ was sixty if he was a day, and while the man hoped to see Elenna before he died, the weak heart he’d been left with after the fouls gases Morgoth’s people had released in the fens of what had once been Nan-Tathren meant it was a gamble whether he’d manage it. Though he supposed if Elrond had taken an interest, Brandulf’s odds were improving.
It should go without saying that I miss you, and unlike you I don’t have the comfort of thinking you’ll come visit to see what I’ve been up to here. I’ve enclosed some sketches, and I suspect Gil-galad has written a fair bit about affairs here, so I won’t bore you with covering the same ground twice. Though I should mention that I suspect Thranduil has met someone – I shall keep you informed!
He could practically feel Elrond shying away from asking if he had met anyone – which was as well, for he still felt practically a stranger to most of his people, and wasn’t feeling terribly confident he’d ever be a normal enough man for one of the women to see Elros rather than Tar-Minyatur. He’d just as soon not burden his brother with that. And it wasn’t as if he needed to ask in return, given the sense Elrond had that family was some time in his future. Bloody foresight was such a tease.
In all your letters you’ve said precious little about friends; it would be reassuring to know that you have made a few. I know we aren’t exactly rich in relatives, but the ones we do have are still around and doing an excellent job of looking after me as the youngest kin they have. I would be happy to send them to visit if I thought they would take any notice of suggestions from me. (Pelendur has remarked that you are quite welcome to Uncle Celeborn, but I suspect that’s wishful thinking on his part – I’m not sure we’ll even be able to persuade him to visit.) I regret that you have no one to look after you in that way, and I worry.
Elros regretted it too, but their living relatives were all elves, and there had been no question that Pelendur would remain with Elrond. Even if no one had ever said so, it was his own foolish fault Handelon wasn’t around to play the same role for him.
The flat out truth was he missed his brother and his family, such as they were, and much like the lack of Handelon, it was because of his own choices.
I regret that you cannot visit and must wait on me to be able to slip away, but I trust you will use your time well until the right moment presents itself. Gil-galad cannot need me so urgently forever, and you will be shocked to hear that even Thranduil is my ally in this matter.
That was indeed a shock. Elrond and Thranduil had more often been at loggerheads than of the same mind on any particular point under the sun. Then again, maybe Thranduil was just seizing the chance to get rid of Elrond for a bit.
I will visit, and when I do, I trust you will have much to show me. But for now, letters will have to do, and this one must be finished quickly or it will have to wait some months until the next ship is ready to sail. We may be separated by many miles, but never forget that we look on the same stars!
Your loving brother,
Elrond
Not even the stars would see his tears. And in the morning, he would put on a king’s face and get building. His brother was coming, after all.
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