Finding Home by Independence1776

A Way Forward

Elrond and Elwing reunite.

Elrond released a deep breath when he heard Celebrían and another woman approaching the salon, though he couldn’t understand what they were saying. He turned away from the view of the garden and faced the door. Celebrían shot him a smile and waited for Elwing to enter the room before closing the door behind her. Elrond swallowed and said, “Welcome.”

Elwing’s green and white pinstripe dress rustled as she moved toward him, a wooden box under her arm. Her eyes-- old, as he’d not expected-- met his. “I… I missed you, Elrond.” She set the box down on the table, next to the tea service. “I hardly know where to begin.”

Elrond let the twitch of a smile show. “Neither do I. I suppose a cup of tea would be appreciated?”

Elwing nodded and sat down while he poured her one. He then poured himself a cup and sat opposite her. She ran a finger around the rim of the cup before saying, “I should start with an apology.” Elrond merely raised an eyebrow, knowing that if he said anything, it would come out sarcastic, which was not how he desired this reunion to begin. “I truly am. I know it’s hard for you to believe me, to understand why I acted--”

“I do understand,” he said softly. “I spent the past six thousand years trying to do so. I know that what happened was the awful convergence of several things, not the least that every single party involved was both wrong and right. But ignoring the political matters, ignoring what the Silmaril meant-- you abandoned us. And that I still find difficult.”

Elwing nodded and put her teacup down. “I know you’ve heard the theory that the Silmaril had an addictive influence. Or that I acted out of revenge. Or that I didn’t care about you. Or who knows what else. But there was no guarantee the Fëanorians would stop the slaughter even if I had given it to them. And…” she hesitated, just briefly. “I thought you two were hidden well enough that the attackers would overlook you but that any survivors would find you and bring you to Balar. I was wrong. And for that, my sons were raised by Kinslayers.” She reached out and pulled the box in front of her. “Elros corresponded with me. He said that you viewed Maglor as family. I do not pretend that did not break my heart. But Maglor raised you well. I cannot deny the evidence that I have heard over the Ages nor the man sitting in front of me despite every reason to refuse to see me. I only regret that I could not watch you grow to adulthood.”

Elrond nodded, not quite sure what to say. He hadn’t realized-- hadn’t guessed-- that the Elves on Tol Eressëa would pass letters between Elwing and Elros, nor that Elros would write more than one or two. He had been just as betrayed, angry, and heartbroken. “Are his letters in the box?”

Elwing smiled a little. “Some of them. He knew you would sail eventually, so he sent here the ones he wrote to you. I brought all of them, and a few of the ones he sent to me. I thought it would give us something else to talk about.”

Something else besides the accusations, the complexities, and the guilt. They could build a new relationship from Elros’ letters. It would never be what he mourned for as a child held and cared for by those who had destroyed his home around him, but both Elwing and he had matured since then. Elrond would not ignore this chance. “Yes, it does.”