Kindreds Apart by Cirdan

[Mithlond, in the year 442 of the Second Age]

The preparations for the Sea Festival began weeks before the opening of the festival itself, and many also began their merriment before the appointed day of midsummer, for there was joy in their work: the decorating of the great Sea Palace on the Gulf of Lune, the catching of fishes and shellfishes from the waters, the sewing of bright and new raiment, the stringing of pearls and other fine jewelry, and many more labors of pleasure. Elrond was, however, not able to partake in these crafts and preparations, for his days were spent in the Library of the Eglain, where he and Pengolod oversaw the transcription of scrolls and books for the library that would be in Gil-galad's palace. The evening before the opening of the Sea Festival, Elrond was still in the library when most of the other scholars had already retired for the night to fully rest for the next day's celebration. A servant boy came to fetch Elrond. Cirdan requested his presence. The boy led Elrond to the great fountain before the Sea Palace, where the Lord of Mithlond watched the sun set.

"Elrond Peredhel," Cirdan greeted him.

"Lord Cirdan." Elrond bowed.

"Come. Let us watch the sunset at the shores." Cirdan said nothing else, but there was a faint smile that danced on his lips. The Sea Palace was on the water's edge, so they did not have far to go. Elrond could not enjoy the sunset's light flickering over the faint ripples of water. For days now, he had been feeling a growing dread, inexplicable yet smothering, as the Sea Festival neared. Thus, Elrond was lost in his thoughts and did not notice the approaching ship until it was close to shore. The ship was that of the Egladhrim. It was fleet, swift, and shaped like a great swan.

"Are you expecting guests so late in the day?" Elrond asked. The Elf- lords had long gathered at the Sea Palace, for they would not miss the Opening Ceremony of the Sea Festival unless Morgoth should arise again. Even the Silvan Elves who wished to attend the festival had arrived weeks before. The guestrooms of the massive palace were all filled, and some guests were even forced to share quarters with others, though none minded doing so as they were often lodged with their immediate family or close friends.

Cirdan smiled. "I do not wish to spoil the moment for you. Wait but a little longer, and all will be made clear to you."

The swanship moored in the second quay, and Cirdan and Elrond went down the pier to meet the mariners. Much to Elrond's delight, the three elves stepping off the white ship were Falathar, Erellont, and Aerandir. The loyal mariners had accompanied Earendil to the Blessed Realm and then returned to Middle Earth, but after the War of Wrath, they had left the shores of Middle Earth and settled on Tol Eressea, as had many of the Elves of Middle Earth. Although the Eressean Elves often visited the Isle of Elenna, they rarely sailed as far east as Middle Earth. Having Elves from the West attend the Sea Festival was unusual but a very pleasant surprise. Elrond moved to embrace one or all of them, he knew not which, but the disembarking of a fourth mariner stopped him.

"Elerondo," greeted the fourth mariner, a man neither old nor young and as beautiful as the night. His raven hair gleamed iridescent in the sunset, and in his smile was the Light of Aman that was before the rising of the sun and the moon.

"Elerosse!" Elrond called out the name of his brother in Quenya only because Elros had done so first. It didn't matter. Elrond hardly knew what he said. He didn't notice the appearance of a fifth mariner. He closed the short distance between him and his twin brother, and the meeting of the brothers on the shores of Mithlond, with the last rays of the golden- orange sun streaming out across the waters of the long Firth of Lune, was very glad. They embraced and held each other until the sun at last disappeared under the horizon and the myriad colors of the sky faded into darkening shades of blue.

"We should be getting back," Cirdan said. "Tomorrow will be a very long day."

"Of course, Lord Cirdan," Elrond said. He put an arm around his brother's waist, and Elros did the same. Together with their companions, they returned to the Sea Palace. "Surely it is not mere coincidence that brings you to these lands the very day before the Opening Ceremony for the Sea Festival."

"Indeed it is not," Elros said. "However, although it is true that I did not wish to miss tomorrow's appointment, I came first and foremost because I wished to see you, Elrond."

Elrond smiled and squeezed his brother around the waist. "The Sea Palace is overflowing with guests. Why don't you stay with me in my quarters?"

Elros bumped hips with Elrond. "Nothing would please me more."

"I'll have a cot brought to your quarters," Cirdan said.

"Thank you for the offer, Lord Cirdan, but it's not necessary," Elros said. "I want to spend the night close to my brother. It's been a long time since Elrond and I have shared a bed." Elros pulled Elrond closer to him, yet they managed to keep in step with each other without tripping.

Elrond kissed Elros on the cheek without breaking their strides. "My dear, dear brother. I have missed you."

Elros said nothing but returned a kiss to Elrond's cheek. As they entered the Sea Palace, the last bit of light slipped away. Only the stars lighted the pitch black sky, and brightest of all shone Gil-estel.

---

The sun had not set for more than an hour when there was a knock on Glorfindel's door. Although it was not considered impolite to visit after dark, visits on the night before the Opening Ceremony for the Sea Festival could only mean a tryst, for anyone other than a lover, even a casual one, would be resting for the week of celebrating and feasting. Glorfindel had thought himself immune to such overtures now that he'd returned from the dead and held an odd place in Elven society. He donned an outer robe so that his visitor would not think him open to the idea of a pre-season night of romance. Of course, he had little worry of this once he answered the door. A figure tall and proud and arrayed with diamonds and crystal stood before him.

"Hail Glorfindel, Lord of the Golden Flower and Balrog Slayer Extraordinaire!" cried the fair voice of Ecthelion.

"Ecthelion of the Fountain?" Glorfindel said. "Is it really you?"

"Yay, it is I. The guestrooms of the Sea Palace are filled, so I thought to stay with an old friend." The smile of Ecthelion in that hour was like the first rising of the silver moon over the world amidst the trumpets of Fingolfin. Ecthelion embraced Glorfindel heartily. "Dear golden-haired Glorfindel. It has been much too long."

"Indeed it has been." Glorfindel led Ecthelion into his room. "But how come you here? For were you not slain in that last, fateful fight with Gothmog, Lord of Balrogs? Heh. And you call me a Balrog Slayer Extraordinaire. And let us not forget the slaying of Orcobal in your long list of achievements."

"That is nothing compared to the slaying of the fire drake by the House of the King or to your achievements in the War of Wrath by the side of Eonwe, Herald of Manwe," Ecthelion said. "Indeed, I was released from the Halls of Mandos just before the beginning of the Great Battle, and by then, you had already departed for the shores of Beleriand with the Hosts of Valinor. But my part in that war was not to be at the forefront of battle. Believe it or not, my role was to be a flutist by the side of Lord Salmar. Our music was to protect Middle Earth from the great tumult that was wrought by the fighting, but even then, we were not able to save all the lands, and Beleriand was rent asunder and drowned under the waves."

"A strange fate," Glorfindel said. He searched his friend's eyes, bright yet sorrowful. This was ever the way of the Teleri, yet Ecthelion seemed unlike even the Eldar that had seen the Light ere the Death of the Two Trees. "Yet a stranger fate awaits you still, I see."

"Nay, I think not," Ecthelion said. "After the Great Battle, Lord Salmar and I aided Osse in the raising of the Isle of Elenna, where the realm of Numenor came to be." He smiled and put a hand over his friend's. "Since then, I have been aiding you from afar and protecting Elros Tar- Minyatur, descendant of Tuor and Idril, though, of course, Elros's descendants will not be of Idril's lineage. He has come here now, Elros that is. I think this the end of my strange fate."

"Here? To the Sea Festival? I find it hard to believe, for Elros has not returned to these shores since his departure to Elenna and the founding of Numenor. He has not even come to visit Elrond, and it was Elrond who had to visit his brother." Glorfindel paused. "And where were you during those visits? I accompanied Elrond and saw you not!"

"I was away by ill-chance. Lord Salmar comes forth very rarely, and although I knew of your visits, I could not deny my duties to the Maker of the Ulumuri. If you would only visit when I was not needed elsewhere, all would be well, but you refused to do so in all these 400 long years!" Ecthelion smiled wanly. The sorrow that Glorfindel had before perceived was now stronger, and at last, the reason for Ecthelion's visit became apparent.

"What veil was over my eyes?" Glorfindel's heart sank. "This is not a visit. Elros comes to see his brother one last time."

Ecthelion nodded gravely. "Elros Peredhel is not like the others of his line. He has not aged, Glorfindel, not like Mortal Men, not even like his sons who were granted a span of life greater than most men. Elros surrendered the scepter to Vardamir Nolimon, but Vardamir abdicated immediately in favor of Tar-Amandil. Vardamir will not live long now upon this world. Elros though."

"Elros is not a Mortal Man," Glorfindel finished. "He is one of the Peredhil, even as Elrond is."

Ecthelion nodded. "He and Elrond are no different physically. But the aging of Elros's children has saddened him, and he regrets holding the throne beyond Vardamir's time, for he did not know and could not have known that the lifespan of his children would be much shorter than his, which seems as long as that of the Eldar. He wishes to accept the Gift of Man, as was offered to him now so long ago, not because of old age-indeed, he is tireless-but because he has grown tired of the realm of Arda. He is neither Man nor Elf and feels out of place. He wishes to see what lies beyond Arda and to seek new adventures."

"Has he told Elrond?" Glorfindel asked in a quiet voice.

"I do not know." Ecthelion's eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "But Elros will not be dissuaded from his path even by his brother. With the setting of the sun, he will relinquish his life and pass beyond the confines of Arda."

On the morning of the Opening Ceremonies, Elrond and Elros awakened before the sun had risen. The soft moonlight illuminated Elrond's face, and Elros reached out to touch his brother's cheek even as Elrond did the same. Their fingertips touched skin; this was no dream. They both began to laugh and embraced each other.

"I thought you were merely an image in a mirror," Elrond said.

"If I had been, I would have reached forth with my left hand, not my right as you did," Elros said.

"A dream then."

Elros stroked Elrond's cheek. "I thought you were a sweet dream as well."

The twin brothers rose and bathed together in lavender-scented water. Elrond wore a robe of deep burgundy with golden embroidery; Elros chose a robe of similar fashion but in royal purple with silver embroidery. Even so, the two were splitting images of each other, and the night of restful slumber in the Elven lands had wiped away even the minute traces of care- worn wrinkles about Elros's eyes and smile. Elros had been closer to Maglor than Elrond and had learned from their foster father the art of caring for hair. Elros brushed his brother's silky black hair then combed it through with various scented combs to produce a most exotic, layered scent to his hair. He braided it in a fashion popular in the Blessed Realm: eight long braids in honor of the Aratar, four on either side of his head, each fashioned from seven strands of hair (for the seven Valar and seven Valier) and one braid of three locks that was wound about the head in a closed crown to represent the elements of air, water, and earth that had been brought together by Iluvatar. Elrond apologized (unnecessarily, Elros said sternly) for not being able to return the favor since he'd never leaned the more difficult and elaborate aspects of hair care, but he did braid Elros's hair in the manner favored by Gil-galad.

Elrond had duties to attend to for the Opening Ceremony of the Sea Festival and urged Elros to join him, but Elros refused. Elros did not even want to see the High King immediately, which was not required of him since he'd already met with the main host of the Sea Palace, Cirdan, the night before. Elros wished to mingle among the Elves as an Elf, if even for a day, for he had been a Man for far too long. Elrond did not fully understand but did not withhold his brother; instead, he went to join Cirdan in the greeting of the Lord Osse and Lady Uinen of the Seas and later assisted in the welcoming of guests to the mayhem of festivities with Gil-galad.

The excellent cuisine of the Eglain was nothing new to Elros, for he had been in close contact with the Egladrhim for over 50 years after the establishment of Numenor, during which time the Cirdain of Mithlond had ferried the remnants of the three Houses of the Edain and the Druedain to the Isle of Elenna, but the delicate flavors of the Eglain never ceased to please, for even the most skilled chefs of the Numenoreans were not so skilled. The seafood of the Mithlondrim were not only delightful to the palate but also a feast for the eyes, for the thin slivers of fish-red, orange, and white in color-were cut in the shape of autumn leaves and snowflakes in honor of the seasons to come and rested atop crackers or balls of sweet, vinegared rice. Larger helpings of various fishes were available steamed for the true connoisseur, lemoned for those that disliked the smell of fish, baked with other seasonings to mask the true flavor of the fish, or grilled or fried for those who desired the extra crispiness. These were set beside lobster tails, crab claws and shells, mussels, oysters, and many foods beside, all of which were available both shelled and without shell, and most were offered in or with a variety of garlic sauces, mixed seasonings, butter oil, soy sauce, fruity sauces and compliments, or plainly and simply as themselves, without the extra garnishes to hide the natural flavor of the seafood. For those who were squeamish about eating the bounty of the Sea, the Mithlondrim served chicken, quail, duck, pheasant, goose, turkey, and even some swan, which was rarely served because of the reverence that the Sea Elves held for the favorite bird of the Lord of the Seas. They even offered some beef, pork, lamb, deer, rabbit, and the very rare horse meat, just as infrequent as swan as a dish because of the importance of the animal in travel over land. And for those who loathed to eat any animal, great or small, there were fruits of all kinds, nuts, vegetables, and sweet desserts of flaky pastries, custards and creams or flavored mousses, white, milk, and dark chocolates, some as truffles, cookies, cakes decorated with fruits and whipped cream or buttercream or sometimes even chocolate cream, and more than could be tasted in one day, which was just as well since the Sea Festival lasted for six days.

Elros practically lost himself in the elegant Egladrhim cuisine as he ate and sipped on his drink of finely crushed ice, honeydew melon, and sparkling white wine. As he feasted, he watched from behind the glass panes of the dining hall, which was located underwater as opposed to most of the rest of the Sea Palace, the fine swimmers among the Cirdain compete with the dolphins of the Sea in a game of waterball. The Cirdain were winning by a score of 2, but perhaps the dolphins, which all knew to be Maiar in other guise, were not yet playing their utmost. The competing Elves were clothed only in simple loincloths, and their bodies were lithe and smooth, a marvel to admire as they darted to and fro in the water as the waterball was passed between them or brought out of range of the equally quick dolphins. Lord Cirdan of Mithlond was among them, and although there were some wrinkles on his otherwise youthful and muscular body, he seemed little aged and certainly unslowed by the passage of time to Elros's eyes. Beyond the Elves and dolphins were the pearl thrones of the Lord and Lady of the Seas, and though they had earlier come forth amidst great white foam and silver surf of the waters, they were now again submerged in their native element and watching the waterball game with much interest. Around Elros, the guests cheered as the Elves scored a third point against the dolphins. Lost in the crowd, Elros felt like just another Elf among Elves, a Peredhel to be sure, but at least not a Peredhel who had chosen to be a Mortal Man.

Now with a content stomach, Elros traded his empty glass of honeydew melon for a strawberry mixed drink and mingled with the other Elves, occasionally turning his attention from his conversation to check the waterball score. For the most part, perhaps because the morning was still young, the Elves mistook him for Elrond, and Elros chose not to correct them. They chatted about the food, the game, the wonderous Sea Palace, and the Sea Festival. It was light conversation, but there was something Elven in their very conversation style that made Elros feel that he was at last home after having been abroad in a grand adventure for over 400 years. Is this how the Noldor felt when they were at last permitted to return to the Blessed Realm? Elros wondered. And there was a personable friendliness between Elves that was only possible in the merry folk that reveled in Midsummer's Day as no other creature could, for no other race was so in tune with Arda as the Firstborn Children of Iluvatar.

Gildor came and greeted Elros as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do, undoubtedly because he did not realize the Peredhel to be the younger, not the older, of the twins (and probably didn't know that there were two of them about on this day). The young Elf had hair as golden as the Light that Elros had seen in visions created by the songs of Maglor, and his manner was as bright as one from the Days of Bliss. It took very little time for Elros to identify the descendant of Finarfin, whose resemblance to Finrod Felagund was even stronger than Inglor's, as the same boy who'd been pampered and praised in the days after the War of Wrath on the shores of a broken world. Elros did not dislike the Prince, per se. He'd always been awed by the tale of his stepfather's friend Finrod, who'd given his life to fulfill an Oath in a quest that had no hopes of success. In truth, Elros was drawn by Gildor's noble bearing underneath his light and easy mannerism. But he couldn't help but to resent him a little. There was something about his life, seemingly unmarred and untainted, that grated on Elros's nerves. And that was exactly the kind of edge that appealed to Elros at the moment.

Elros had never really flirted with his wife Nerdanwen, not in this manner, for she was not an Elf. As they chatted casually about the waterball game and the seafood delicacies, Elros scratched lightly behind his ear and then pushed the loose strands of silky black hair back. Gildor's eyes flickered for just a moment at that succulent, pointed ear. His brief gaze made Elros's blood run hotter, and his ear became faintly flushed. Elros tried to play it smooth and turned his attention to the food offered on a nearby table. He selected a peach, but when he sank his teeth into it, with the sweet juices trickling into his mouth, he found his mind on other matters.

"This is a delicious peach," Elros said. "Please, have the rest, Lord Gildor."

"How sincere is your friendship for me," Gildor said. "You immediately forget your own appetite and think only of giving me good things to eat." Gildor took a bite of that peach, which truly was delicious beyond other peaches, and then licked the juice that threatened to spill out over his hand. Elros felt more than his ear becoming rigid. Each motion of Gildor's lips brought to mind images of that same action running over the length of his arm, down his chest, and along his inner thigh. Even before Gildor laughed at him, Elros knew that he was blushing like a youth who had just reached maturity. Gildor leaned over and whispered into Elros's ear, "You need only ask, Half-Elven, and I would gladly share the pleasure of Midsummer's Day with you." Gildor's tongue flickered out and touched the tip of Elros's ear. Elros gasped softly.

"I would not know how to ask," Elros confessed, "and there are too many people here." He pushed Gildor away. Elros's eartip was still slightly moist, and the rest of his body seemed keenly aware of it.

Gildor smiled and took Elros's wrist. "Come with me, and I will gladly teach you how to ask," Gildor offered. His finger traced senseless patterns in Elros's palm. Elros only nodded.

Once away from prying eyes, Elros no longer felt the need to be proper, to be Elven, so to speak. Between kisses, he pulled Gildor's clothes half off his body but did not entirely undress him. Thus, Gildor found his arms partially pinned, but he was not about to let that stop him. He nipped at Elros's ear, and though Elros drew away, the very sight of Gildor lightly licking his lips forced him to offer up his other ear. Gildor took it into his lips and sucked gently on the tip before sliding his tongue along the earlobe and encircling his mouth around the entire ear. Elros pulled Gildor close to him and felt the heat growing at Gildor's crotch. They moved against each other, and sometime while Gildor was tugging gently on his earlobe, Gildor slipped out of his clothing and was undressing and caressing Elros. Gildor finally released the wet ear and crossed over Elros's face and open mouth. They shared heated kisses and found themselves on the bed, neither able to stay still against the other's body, neither staying on top for very long. Gildor found the other ear, the more sensitive right ear, and then he was able to hold Elros down and thoroughly torment him with his nibbling and licking and kissing. Elros squirmed underneath him but when he turned his head away from Gildor's mouth, Gildor found him again and took his ear in his mouth anew. Gildor tried to pour lubricating oil on Elros, but their frolicking was such that the oil got everywhere on their bodies and on the bedsheets. The oil certainly helped them move against each other though, and still, there was the matter of the ears, which Gildor attacked mercilessly, either one or the other, once he realized how hypersensitive they were even for an Elf. That ear thing proved to be Elros's undoing, for when Gildor, with mouth fully engulfing Elros's right ear, plunged his tongue into that ear, Elros cried out in helpless abandon and finally offered himself up to Gildor. Gildor's entry into him matched the thrusts of his tongue. Elros took Gildor's rear in his hands and helped him find a rhythm by pulling him in at just the right moments (while parting his halves, for there would come a time in the near future when Gildor would have the favor returned, and his ass was much too stiff and in much need of serious preparation). Shortly after they finished, Elros had completely forgotten that he wished to make love like an Elf and climbed on top of Gildor anew, and Gildor, being born to rule, could not let the challenge go unanswered, and so they began another and then another round of frenzied coupling.

Cirdan had only stayed with Gil-galad in the very early morning, when they first greeted the Lord and Lady of the Seas upon their arrival, but thereafter, the Lord of Mithlond had left Gil-galad, as High King of the Elves, to deal with the festivities and had joined the waterball game that was held primarily for Lord Osse's pleasure. Gil-galad had been greeting various guests for hours, but he did not dislike his responsibility, for Elrond was with him, and every time a guest complimented Elrond on his beautiful hair and elaborate hairstyle, Gil-galad had an excellent excuse to gaze upon the attractive Peredhel. Indeed, Elrond's hair was normally unmanageable (because of his human side, it was said), and usually, thin, weightless-seeming strands would become undone from the braid as time went on or as he moved about, but on this day, each and every hair was staying in its appointed place, and the tight side braids did not make him look severe because they hung amidst the rest of his luxurious, unbound black hair. Elrond had been troubled for days, and it had been showing in his mannerism and furrowed eyebrows, but today, his thoughts seemed bent on the gaiety of the Sea Festival, and his step was again light, eyes bright, and face alive with a hint of an excited flush from time to time and always graced by a warm smile. Just seeing him made the more bureaucratic and political moments of the Sea Festival worthwhile.

After the sun had passed its zenith, Elrond became a bit restless, but when Gil-galad inquired about it, Elrond only said, "I'm expecting someone." Elrond's expected guest did not show up by lunch, and Gil-galad had to remind Elrond to eat instead of look around the vast dining hall.

It was some time after lunch when Glorfindel, Galdor, and Legolas came to pay their respects to Gil-galad. This was not an obligatory part of the feast, but many members of Elven nobility took this as an opportunity to become better acquainted with the High King, though in this particular case, the Elves simply wished to share the merriment of the feast with Gil-galad. With them was a fourth friend, Ecthelion of the Fountain, who had exchanged brief greetings with Gil-galad in the early morning.

"The cuisine could not be more wonderful, your Majesty," Glorfindel said, as if the entire festival was somehow Gil-galad's doing instead of Cirdan's.

"Indeed," Ecthelion agreed. "The waters by which I dwelt lacked the larger lobsters that I have today feasted upon, and the seaweed rolls of rice and fried soft-shell crab are most excellent."

"He's been doing this since morning," Galdor said. He swayed slightly as he hit Ecthelion's shoulder. "Always food. He goes from one dish to another as if it will all disappear if he looks away."

"Better than you and your lecherous gazes at the waterball players!" Legolas teased.

"I am glad that you are all enjoying yourselves," Gil-galad said. He'd been saying such things for most of the later half of the morning and early afternoon. Now that the more important guests had been properly addressed and pampered, all that remained were the compliments and merriment. "Please, continue your merrymaking. There is still more food being brought out, and the pecan and caramel pastries are particularly good."

"In fact, my King, we did not come solely to share in our delight of the summer solstice," Glorfindel said. He turned to Elrond. "Have I told you already how lovely your hair looks today?"

Elrond bowed. "Yes you have, Lord of the Golden Flower, but I thank you again for your kind words. By some miracle, I am actually having a good hair day today."

"Definitely his work," Galdor said, nudging Glorfindel. "He can even manage Elrond's free and willful tresses."

Glorfindel nodded gravely, too gravely; apparently he was also slightly tipsy. "So it would seem." He sipped from his glass of bright red and blue drink, undoubtedly another one of those clever Egladhrim alcoholic mixes. "Well, then, Peredhel, where is your other half? I have yet to exchange words with him, yet I have not seen him all day, and lo, over half the day is over already."

"Do two Peredhil make one Elf and one Man?" Legolas giggled to Galdor. Galdor laughed, but Ecthelion whacked them both for the mean- spirited joke.

"I too have not seen him since we parted early this morning," Elrond confessed. "He wanted to mingle amidst the Elven kindred, but his wanderings seem to have taken him from the center of the festivities. We were at the dance hall up above only moments ago, and I did not see him there either."

"You see, you see! Did I not tell you that he was enjoying himself in the manner of the Grey Elves?" Legolas said. He leaned in closer, pulling Galdor and Glorfindel into a conspiratory huddle closer to Gil- galad and Elrond so that others would not hear his words. He would've undoubtedly pulled Ecthelion in too if he had been standing close by, but as it was, Ecthelion obliged him by joining the huddle. "I suspect it is Gildor Inglorion the Golden-haired who has so occupied Elrond's double. I saw who I thought was Elrond speaking with Gildor earlier-and sharing a peach no less!-and leaving for the gardens or perhaps for their chambers, but when I saw the Peredhel again, he was dressed even as he is here, in wine red rather than royal purple. 'Tis him, I swear!"

"He did indeed dress in a majestic, deep purple this morning." Elrond said. He looked concerned. Gil-galad was not pleased. There had always been a certain amount of animosity between Gildor and Elrond that seemed without cause or reason, but now, if what Legolas was suggesting was true, then perhaps the tension between the two was of a romantic nature, not simply a matter of radical personality differences as Gil-galad had surmised.

"Of whom do you all speak?" Gil-galad asked, though he was already beginning to have suspicions as to whom they were speaking about.

"Elros Tar-Minyatur, the First King of Numenor and now King Emeritus," Ecthelion said. "He arrived yesterday night with me and three others. Surely he has been by to see the High King of the Elves?"

Elrond coughed delicately. "Nay, Lord of the Fountain." He avoided Gil-galad's stern gaze. "My brother wished to mingle among the Elves without being announced, and so he has not yet been by to see his Majesty, High King Gil-galad." The titles did little to improve Gil-galad's mood. The King did not like being left unaware of important matters. "Since he had seen Cirdan yesterday, he considered his obligation to exchange courtesies with the host fulfilled. Doubtless he will be here soon to pay his respects to the High King, for we were to meet at noon and it is already past that time. But Falathar, Erellont, and Aerandir have been by to share in drink in honor of the Sea Festival." The mention of the three mariners also did little to mollify the King.

"So your twin brother is here?" Gil-galad asked, though of course by now he knew the answer. He watched with a twinge of pleasure as Elrond squirmed at the harsh tone and nodded sheepishly. "And you chose to say nothing?" Elrond looked away and nodded again. "So this is the 'someone' whom you were awaiting for lunch."

Elrond bowed before the king three times, bobbling almost ungracefully (and yet not) in his haste to apologize. "Please forgive me, my King! He persuaded me to leave him free to wander the festivities. He knew that if he were to reveal himself to you, he would be expected to join in the royal duties as a host of the Sea Festival, and though he does not begrudge such obligations, he wished to first immerse himself in the Elfiness of the moment." At the last charming little bobble, Elrond kept his head bowed before the King.

Gil-galad needed only to say that Elrond was forgiven, but instead, he chose to take Elrond's chin under his hand and lift his head so that their eyes met before granting him the King's grace. "You are forgiven." Elrond stared lost into Gil-galad's eyes for a moment longer before blushing faintly and looking away. At that moment, a servant boy came forward and whispered into Gil-galad's ear that a cloaked stranger was at the front gate of the Sea Palace and refused to enter but requested audience with the Lord of the Sea Palace, who was still playing waterball and thus the responsibilities of dealing with this stranger fell on Gil- galad. "It seems that the 'someone' whom you were expecting has finally made his appearance," Gil-galad said to Elrond with a touch of harshness in his voice, for though Elrond was forgiven, Gil-galad was still not wholly pleased with him for withholding information. "He is out at the Gates of Mithlond."

"At last!" Glorfindel said. "I was beginning to fear that I would not see him before the sun set. If you don't mind, my King, we would like to attend you as your entourage as you greet the King Emeritus of Numenor." Gil-galad consented.

At the front entrance, still many steps from the elaborate gates that led to the first courtyard of the Sea Palace, was a figure in a brown summer cloak. His hood was drawn up so that his face was hidden in shadows, but his very stance was that of a royal elf: tall, straight, proud and graceful. Elrond shifted uncomfortably, but when he leaned to whisper to the King, Gil-galad ignored him and stepped forth to greet Elrond's doppelganger, the one who Legolas claimed to have seen with Gildor.

"Greetings Elros Peredhel," Gil-galad called out.

The figure stiffened for a moment then chuckled softly. "Nay, High King Ereinion Gil-galad, son of Fingon the valiant, I am not Elros, though he is the one I seek," he said in fair voice. At the sound of his voice, Ecthelion, Glorfindel, Galdor, and Legolas whispered amongst themselves and hurried to retrieve Lord Cirdan though he was still playing in the waterball game. Before the Gates of Mithlond, the three remaining Elves- Gil-galad, Elrond, and the traveler-stood in silence and bathed in the radiance of the afternoon sun until, at last, Elrond spoke in broken voice.

"Father." Elrond's movements were light and quick as he covered the short distance to embrace the stranger. There was something unreal about the scene before the High King. Even as Elrond crossed that distance, the braids in his hair, even the braided crown upon his head, became undone in the sea breeze, as if somehow all restraints had been released (or perhaps this power over his hair was descended from Melian the Maia and simply underused). As Elrond approached, the stranger dropped his cloak to the ground to reveal the fair face of a son of Feanor and fine raiment of red silk and gold embroidery and with the emblem of the House of Feanor proudly displayed upon the chest of his tunic. Elrond's embrace hid the hated emblem of the House of Feanor, and, if there had been any allowance for doubt, the lozenge upon the upper shoulder of the tunic was clearly revealed as the Elf's arms wrapped around Elrond, and it was the emblem of Maglor, second son of Feanor, now with the many colored fields and eight silver spikes of the Silmaril added behind the picture of a harp and surrounded by the red rays of flame that showed him to be a prince of the Noldor.

When he spoke, Maglor's voice was choked with emotion. "I thought you hated me, Son of Earendil."

"I do," Elrond said as he hugged Maglor still tighter, "but that does not mean that you are not my father. Even if I never called you 'Father' before, even if I proclaimed my hatred with all my strength, still, you have always been and still are my father."

Maglor stroked Elrond's soft black hair and clasped him close, and tears streamed openly down his face. "I came to find my son and have instead found that I have two sons."

Elros sleepily nuzzled his face in Gildor's golden hair. "If I do not leave now, I shall never leave," Elros muttered to himself.

"And why would you want to leave?" Gildor absently stroked Elros's hair in turn. His other hand rested at Elros's hip. Elros knew that he should've stayed quiet. Now awake, Gildor began to gently nibble on Elros's ear. "You are not what I expected, Peredhel."

"Perhaps because I am not Elrond." Elros hoped that would deter Gildor from his distracting ear nibbling, but it did not.

"I know. You are Elros, twin brother of Elrond."

Elros stiffened and drew away. "You knew?"

"How could I not?" Gildor tugged Elros back to him and kissed his cheek before returning to more ear nibbling. "You do not act or react like your brother. Though you resemble your brother in face, your heart is like mine." He ran his finger over Elros's chest. Elros laughed and straddled Gildor. There was no hope now of leaving before having one last round.

"My dear Prince," Elros said as he moved against Gildor and felt the flesh harden beneath him, "if only I'd met you at the end of the First Age, but you weren't born then." The oil from their previous bout had by now dried or soaked into the bedsheets. Elros poured fresh oil onto Gildor and massaged his length.

"What would you have done differently?" Gildor asked, mildly amused. "Would you have given up the Kingship of Numenor to be with me?"

"Nay, my Lord," Elros confessed. "I enjoy ruling, even as you do." He kissed the fair, golden-haired Elf beneath him and sucked Gildor's tongue into his mouth. Below, his hand worked Gildor's length still harder. "But," Elros said when he at last broke away for breath, "I might have chosen differently had I known you." Elros impaled himself on Gildor in a now all-too-familiar motion. He wanted to be in pain for their last round. Rather than withdraw and allow himself to rest and prepare for still deeper penetration, Elros pushed himself down the hard length and gritted his teeth. "We are cursed, those of us with Noldorin blood who remain in Middle Earth. We are arrogant," he withdrew, "and driven to rule," and impaled himself again. "Your fate will be no different from that of the sons of Feanor, but I will escape before the curse finds me, though my descendants will not be so fortunate." Elros found it far too difficult to do two things at once, so he abandoned speech and turned his attention fully to pleasuring Gildor, repeating in his mind "cursed, cursed, cursed" with each pounding, though he knew not for certain why he should suddenly feel cursed at the end of his 500 long years of life, a span of time only slightly shorter than all the time of the First Age.

When they were spent, Elros slipped his ring off and put it on Gildor. "When I am gone, take care of my brother."

---

Elrond felt as if he were in a dream as he beheld his foster father for the first time since the War of Wrath. Gil-galad woke him from his daydream.

"You were never to come back among the people of the Elves, Son of Feanor," Gil-galad said. Elrond wanted to protest but knew better than to speak against his King. Gil-galad was not armed with his sword, but his fists were clenched tightly, and his knuckles were white.

"I have not yet broken my word in that matter, High King of the Noldor," Maglor said. Though his face was still wet with tears, his voice was strong and undaunted by the King. "For this reason, I have refused to enter the Gates of the Eglain. I come only to see Elros Half-Elven."

"Be at ease, my Lords," said Cirdan. Though he must have come straight from the waterball game, he was dressed in snowy white robes adorned with small pearls and groomed as if it were the beginning of the day. Some of his hair was pulled back in a bun and pinned in place by two decorative hairsticks; the rest of his silver hair fell about his shoulders like liquid moonlight. On a heavy necklace of platinum hung a single perfectly round white pearl. Beside him was Celebrimbor, son of Curufin, dressed in silver with black embroidery and adorn with no ornament save a ring of mithril (a new silver substance that had been found in the eastern mountains) with neither stone nor gem set upon it. Cirdan put a hand on Gil-galad's shoulder. "Prince Maglor is here at my behest, though as you say, King Gil-galad, he is not welcomed and will not enter the Elven kingdoms. I have called for Elros Tar-Minyatur. He will be here shortly."

"I am here already," Elros called out as he crossed the courtyard to the main gates. Beside him was Gildor, dressed in royal blue and silver. Like Elrond, Elros's hair was no longer braided. At first, it seemed ridiculous that the two walk together, as if they were purposefully encouraging the rumors that Legolas had spoken of earlier. But when Elros and Gildor came to stand by them, Elrond at last understood that this was the assemblage of the remaining male descendants of Finwe Noldoran. And yet, Inglor was not among them, and Finarfin was in the Blessed Realms, so it was not, after all, the full assemblage of the male descendants of Finwe. Elrond looked curiously at Gildor, as blond as the Vanyar, and wondered at his presence, and yet, it did indeed feel right, for Gildor alone of his family seemed intent on remaining in the Hither Lands. Of the descendants of Finwe, Elrond found that he resembled Celebrimbor most closely (aside from Elros, of course), for Celebrimbor was like Curufin and Feanor in appearance, raven-haired and porcelain fair of face. Elrond wondered at this, for he had not since his childhood given much thought to his ties, both of blood and of spirit, to the House of Feanor.

The Princes of the Noldor stood together in a Ring of Silence (for Cirdan had stepped away from them) on the shores of what remained of the otherwise drowned Beleriand, representing all Three Houses of the Kings of the Eldar, the Three Houses of the Noldorin Princes, and, in the Peredhil, all three Houses of the Edain. The meaning of such a moment was impossible to fathom, except perhaps to Iluvatar.

Elros at last broke the Ring of Silence by addressing Maglor: "Father." They embraced and shared kisses on the cheeks. Elrond had seen such shows of affection before, but for the first time, he felt as if he was a part of the unlikely family. "I am going with Father," Elros said to Elrond.

"Then I am coming with you," Elrond said.

Elros shook his head. "Like Maglor, I will not return again to the people of the Elves. You cannot come with me to where I go now." The dread that had been building for days before the Sea Festival crashed over Elrond again like a great tidal wave. Even before Elros explained himself, Elrond's heart knew what was to come. "I am accepting the Gift of Iluvatar to Man and will pass beyond the confines of Arda." For many moments, silence as heavy as darkness on a clear sunny day descended upon the assembled Elves.

"Allow the Princes of the Noldor to travel at least as far as your resting place, Elros Peredhel," Cirdan said. "Thus requested Ulmo, Lord of the Waters, in return for permitting Maglor to step foot before the Gates of Mithlond."

Glorfindel stepped forward and bowed before Elros. "I had wished to see you before your departure, but now that the hour is at hand, a part of me regrets having come to see this." He kissed Elros's hand, for Elros was descended from Idril Celebrindal, daughter of King Turgon of Gondolin. Galdor and Legolas stepped forward and paid their respects to Turgon's descendant in like manner.

Ecthelion, who had escorted Elros from the Isle of Elenna to the Land of the Eglain, was the last of the Noldorin Elf-lords to pay his respects. "May the stars shine upon your face." As Ecthelion kissed the hand of his lord, his silver hair cast an odd play of shadows upon the sleeve of Elros's robes. Cirdan and the four Noldorin Elf-lords departed quietly back to the Sea Palace with somber faces.

"You are the First King of Numenor," Gil-galad said. "Why not lie among them in the end?"

Elros shook his head. "I was the First King of Men in the New Age, indeed, but I am no Man. But nor am I an Elf. I chose to be of the Dispossessed, and so my body will remain in the House of the Dispossessed." Gil-galad nodded, not understanding the plight of the Peredhil but accepting Elros's final decision. Though Gil-galad was King of the Elves, it was Elros, King of Men, who led the descendants of the King of the Noldor along the shores.

---

Glorfindel and Ecthelion had no desire to return to the festivities after they had taken their leave of the Son of Earendil the Blessed, and so they retired early to Glorfindel's quarters, where they shared a bottle of strong wine. For many moments, they spoke no word, and when the sun's rays began to slip beneath the horizon of the waters, the two went out onto the balcony overlooking the Firth of Lune and watched the light pass into the West. Even after the sun had passed from their sight, its light lingered in the dimming sky, and the Elf-lords put an arm on the other's waist and held each other to support their heavy hearts.

"What will you do, Lord of the Fountains, now that your charge has passed on?" Glorfindel said at last. "Dare I hope that you will remain here by the shores of Lindon? Or will you pass over the Sea to the West?"

Ecthelion stared out across the starlit waters, now dark and frightful, for the waters were not tranquil and still as those about the Blessed Realm. "I will indeed remain here, for I have chosen to share in your great task for love of our late Lord, the King of Gondolin. And though Elros is now beyond harm, what will you do, Lord of the Golden Flower, if you protect Elrond for the many years to come only to find that you cannot guide him over the waves to the Blessed Realm? I hear that High King Gil-galad wishes to establish his own capital of Lindon elsewhere, and doubtless Elrond Peredhel will accompany him, and thus you will follow him. But I will not go forth when that time comes. Instead, I shall abide here by the shores and guard over Mithlond so that the white ships of the Teleri, once wrongly taken and burned at Losgar, which is no more, will remain safe in this Haven until the time when the Elrond chooses to depart from these lands forever."

"Morgoth has been defeated. What darkness now remains to threaten the white ships of the Mithlondrim?" Glorfindel asked, but even as he said it, he knew in his heart that the fear and foreboding was unfounded, for Eonwe had warned upon his announcement to remain in Lindon that the Prophecy of the North was a prophecy, not a curse, and that all that had been proclaimed would come to pass, though none save Mandos could see the manner of its passing. Perhaps Ecthelion felt something of Glorfindel's thoughts, for he said nothing. "It bodes ill that such a thing should happen on the night of the Sea Festival," Glorfindel said.

Ecthelion put his head on Glorfindel's shoulder, and his silver tresses mingled with the golden hair of his friend like the blended Light of the Two Trees that were no more. The circlet of pale niphredil upon Ecthelion's head seemed to sigh with the yellow elanors woven in Glorfindel's wreath like the sorrow of Arda that whispered in the waters of the Sea. At last, night fully descended upon the longest day of the year. Above them shone Gil-estel, the Star of Hope, and the Elf-lords took comfort in its light, though they had not known that hope was needed.

---

The Princes of the Noldor traveled in silence westward, and when they reached Maglor's cave along the shores of the Firth of Lune, the sun was almost set. There, Elros lay down on the long bed that had been prepared for him. Maglor kissed Elros's brow and left with tears unnumbered streaming openly down his face, and his song of grief could be heard echoing in the winds of the Sea. Gil-galad and Celebrimbor bade Elros farewell and left. They did not know him well and did not wish to dwell upon the moment. Gildor clasped forearms with Elros, squeezed him tightly, and departed as well. Then all had left Elros save Elrond, and he stood alone by his brother's bed and wept. And for all of his long years of both war and peace, death and life of friends and foes alike, and wisdom gained from experience, Elrond could not forbear to plead with his brother to stay yet for a while, for Elrond was not yet weary of his days.

Elros's face softened but he was resolved. "I will not be seen among the Eldar again, and it may be that we shall not meet a second time in death or life, for the fates of our kindreds are apart. But do not now repent of your choice, for our past and our love cannot be changed, not now or ever, and in you and your love for me lies my immortality for as long as Arda remains. I speak no comfort to you, my brother, for there is no comfort for such pain within the circles of the world, but beyond them is more than memory. Farewell!"

"Elros, Elros!" Elrond cried, but even as he took his brother's hand and kissed it, there, in the House of an Exiled Elf, as an image of the splendor of the Kings of Men in glory undimmed before the breaking of the world, Elros fell into sleep.

Elrond returned late in the night, and it seemed to all who saw the Peredhel that the light of his eyes was quenched and that he had become cold and grey as nightfall in winter that comes without a star. He passed soundlessly through the halls of the Sea Palace and spoke no word, not even to those who addressed him or inquired about his health. He did not bathe or refresh himself after his journey from Maglor's House. He simply lay on his bed and waited to see if, somehow, the Gift of Man would take him as it had taken his brother, for though he had before not yet been weary of his life, he was now, and if death did not claim him, he felt certain that he would be slain from grief. For he was a Peredhel, half Elf and half Man, yet neither Elf nor Man, and he was a Gwanunig, a single twin in a pair of twins, and if half of himself was now gone beyond the very circles of Ea, then was he not incomplete and unable to be whole even in the Blessed Realm, even in a world after Arda was broken and remade?

The tears were dry now, as was his voice, which could no longer echo his lamentations in sobs or song. If neither death nor sorrow would give him release, then he would call upon himself the Everlasting Darkness, the last privilege of his heretofore unclaimed kinship to the House of Feanor.

Elrond paid little heed to the opening of his door or the approaching footfalls. And though golden hair gleamed in the moonlight above him like a memory of Laurelin, Elrond's eyes looked without seeing at Gildor Inglorion of the House of Finrod.

Gildor nuzzled his face to Elrond's midnight hair. He pushed the hair back with his lips and gently nibbled on Elrond's left ear. In any other situation, Elrond would've become a puddle of jelly, but on this night, he remained still, as if he hadn't even felt Gildor's overtures. Gildor remained undeterred. He ran his hands along Elrond's body, seeking the sensitive spots that he'd discovered earlier when exploring Elros's body. Gildor slowly parted Elrond's robes and sucked at the base of his neck. His kisses flittered along Elrond's collarbone before tracing its way down. Gildor's golden hair tickled Elrond's thighs. Try as he might, Elrond found it impossibly hard to continue to await death. His breath was fast and heavy, and he arched to meet Gildor's rhythm. It was awfully hard to think about darkness taking him when his thoughts were filled with more basic pleasures. A part of Elrond felt guilty, for he knew he should've been mourning his brother and feeling great sorrow-and he did, part of him did-but mostly all he could think of was Gildor. Any who thought the Blessed Realm lieth in the West had apparently never been in Gildor's mouth.

Elrond was not healed, for only time could heal grief at such partings, especially of two who had been together since birth, but he definitely felt alive.

---

Elrond awakened in Gildor's embrace and sighed, to which Gildor said sleepily, "Do not sigh, Half-elven, or I will have to comfort you anew, and to be quite honest, I think I am too exhausted for the task."

Elrond smiled faintly at that and kissed Gildor. Elrond no longer had any doubts that Gildor had indeed been with Elros, but he found that he did not mind, for Gildor was but a lover whom Elros had chosen for the Sea Festival and not the one Elrond truly desired to make his own. Though Gildor called him Half-elven, making love to him made Elrond feel like a Man. It was not manhood in the sense of physical fulfillment. The sex was not the cure. Gildor and Elros had not bonded in the marital sense of the word, but Elrond could certainly feel something of Elros each time they joined, and what he felt was a sense of peace, of a Fate fulfilled, for the Fate of Man was to live and then pass beyond Arda. Elrond, as an Elf, would not be able to fulfill his own Fate even after death should he be slain by weapon or by grief, for the Elves were appointed by Iluvatar to abide in Arda until its unmaking. His Elven half was yet incomplete, but his Mannish half felt complete in Elros's absence, and fulfilling the designs of Iluvatar was apparently a very pleasant, almost euphoric feeling.

Each time Elrond was made to feel like Elros in his sex with Gildor, he was able to share that heavenly bliss that belonged to Man after the fulfillment of Man's destiny. Who would have thought that Elros's wanton pursuit of physical pleasure before his death would have provide Elrond with a bridge to the spiritual pleasure that Elros enjoyed in his afterlife? It certainly meant that sex with Gildor was the best that Elrond had ever experienced (not that Elrond had had that much past experience with sex). Or perhaps Elros was lingering about even after death as a ghost and that his presence somehow enhanced the sexual experience. Elrond missed his brother, but he rejoiced in knowing that Elros had found his place in the created world of Ea in his death. Elros was no longer a misfit, and Elrond was certain that he was not one either.

"I have just lost my brother, who was brought into this world just moments before me. I am in need of much comforting," said Elrond in an attempt to draw Gildor into yet another round.

"Hm." Gildor ran his hand over Elrond's bare buttocks but did not move to return his kiss. "You lost your brother well nigh 400 years ago. Why mourn it now?"

"Nay, Gildor, for though I myself have sometimes thought such things to be true, whenever I saw my brother again, it was as if no time had passed at all, and we were together and comfortable in each other's presence, as if we'd never been parted, but this time, there will be no reunion." Elrond kissed Gildor on the cheek. Gildor brought a hand up to play with Elrond's ear but it slipped onto Elrond's cheek instead as Gildor dozed off again. Well, it was no surprise that Gildor should be so exhausted; Elros could not have been an easy lover (certainly not as easy as me, Elrond mused), and after that, they had traveled far to Maglor's house before returning to the Sea Palace. Elrond took Gildor's hand and kissed it, and only then, though they had been together for many hours already, did Elrond notice Elros's ring upon Gildor's hand. "The Ring of Barahir!"

Gildor awakened again. "Verily. It is the Ring of the House of Finarfin." He absently kissed Elrond's hair and held his hand before Elrond so that the ring could be studied. The heads of the two emerald- eyed serpents met beneath a crown of golden flowers that one upheld and the other devoured, and for the first time, Elrond thought of the serpents as twins set in the circle of Arda, like himself and Elros, and wondered that the badge of the House of Finarfin had been passed to them from their mortal ancestry. "How came Elros to possess it," Gildor asked, "for though I knew it to have passed from Finrod to Barahir in the Dagor Bragollach, I had thought it long lost."

"The ring passed from Barahir to Beren, as you must know from the Lay of Leithian." Gildor nodded, lips still caressing Elrond's silky hair, but he was certainly awake now and intent on hearing the story of the ring of his House. "Beren passed it on to Dior the Beautiful ere they parted, and when the sons of Feanor attacked Doriath in search of the Silmaril, Maedhros found it upon Dior's slain body. He took it and purposed to give it to Dior's sons should he ever find them in the wild, and though he did not, he kept the ring until he gifted it to my brother Elros, descendant of Barahir." Elrond looked at Gildor, who was the striking image of Finrod Felagund, more so than even Inglor, and at last understood why Elros had sought Gildor for his last moments of life.

"Speak your mind, Peredhel," Gildor said, for Elrond's look could not go unnoticed.

"I understand at last what Elros saw in you," Elrond said and kissed Gildor's cheek. "When we were young, the tale of Finrod Felagund was his favorite, and he bade Maglor tell us of Finrod many times. I could not have known that, even then, the seed of Man had been planted in him." Elrond ran his hand along Gildor's golden hair. "Finrod was first of Elves to see Man die at the death of Beor Balan, my ancestor, and he was the first, maybe only, Elf to die for Man in turn, for though Elves and Men have died side by side, it was always for the cause of the Noldor, not for the individual. At the end, when all others had left, Elros spoke to me the words that Finrod the Faithful spoke to Beren: 'I will not be seen among the Eldar again, and it may be that we shall not meet a second time in death or life, for the fates of our kindreds are apart.'"

Gildor studied Elrond for many moments before taking the Ring of Barahir from his finger and placing it in Elrond's hand. Elrond tried to object, but Gildor stopped him and said, "I realize now that you know more of my grandfather than I do, for you were raised by one who knew him personally. I give this ring to you, Elrond Peredhel, and in return, I wish for you to tell me of Finrod Felagund, mightiest of the House of Finarfin."

Elrond shook his head. "I would gladly tell you such tales without a fee."

"Nay, keep it." Gildor closed Elrond's hand around the ring and kissed his fist. "When you deem the time right, gift it to a mortal descendant of Elros, for though I was at first overjoyed to receive the ring of my household, I perceive now that it has passed out of the House of Finarfin to be the heirloom of the descendants of Barahir, and in this way may we be reminded of the bond that Finrod forged between Elves and Men." Gildor's bright eyes shimmered. "It seems to be a night of mourning, for though I knew my grandfather not, I now find myself moved to grief at the thought of his death."

Elrond pulled Gildor on top of himself and drew Gildor's face to him for a long kiss; no one should be unhappy at the Sea Festival. "The night has passed, Lord Gildor," Elrond said. "Dawn is at hand, but before the sun begins another day of the Sea Festival, let me comfort you as I may, and in so doing, I will myself find comfort for my loss."

Gildor laughed and kissed the Half-elven. "Very well. The stories of Finrod the Friend of Men can wait."

---

Cirdan came to Gil-galad's chambers before the beginning of the day, for there was yet much for the High King to do and each day of the Sea Festival was another day of ritual as well as of celebration. Gil-galad needed little instruction, for he had aided Cirdan in the Sea Festivals of years previous, but even so, Cirdan preferred to remind the King of certain things and to groom him personally for the festivities, for Gil-galad had been as a son to him since Fingon had first sent him to the Falas after the Dagor Bragollach. He found Gil-galad already awake and sitting before the open window, waiting for the sun to rise.

"My King?" Cirdan said. He set a tray of morning refreshments on a small table beside Gil-galad.

"I did not want to see the end of such a high and mighty king," Gil- galad said without preamble, and Cirdan knew immediately that Gil-galad spoke of Elros. "He left at the time of his choosing, but the same will not be true for me, I suspect. A darkness is coming, one from which he chose to flee, for he did not wish to see his Paradise on Middle Earth tainted."

Cirdan took up his brush and began to run it through Gil-galad's hair, knowing such an action to be soothing to Gil-galad from the days when he was still a child. "Your forefathers fell fighting the Darkness and their memories live on in song. You will be no less great. Indeed, you will be the most renown High King of the Noldor since Finwe, who I knew in the days before the Noldor departed from these shores."

"I do not know if what you say is true, but nevertheless, I mourn the passing of the Kings: Finwe, Fingolfin, and Fingon. It is a heavy burden, to be the scion of so many great kings," Gil-galad said. Though he awaited the rising of the sun, his gaze was to the West. Cirdan said nothing and continued to sooth Gil-galad with the brushing and stroking of his dark brown hair. At last, Gil-galad said that which was most strongly on his mind, before even the matter of Kings and Darkness. "I had wanted to be the one to comfort him."

Cirdan braided Gil-galad's hair in his favorite fashion and then kissed the back of his head. "You will in time, my Lord, but you could not this night, for you are the King of Elves, not of Men, and Elrond Peredhil is not himself right now. When the shadow of Elros has passed from his heart, then he will receive you." Gil-galad only nodded, and at that very moment, the first rays of the golden sun touched the horizon.