Going Through These Stages by Lyra

1.

Two letters arrived from Númenor, and Elrond had opened the less official-looking one, bearing an unfamiliar seal, first. Now, the sheet of papyrus slipped from his fingers.

Vardamir Nólimon to Lord Elrond Eärendilion, greetings.
Most worthy and well-beloved Uncle, I am penning these lines in great sadness and beg you to forgive that my writing is less clear than you could normally expect. It is my painful duty to inform you that your brother, my beloved father, has taken the Gift of Ilúvatar this past week, laying down his life on the third day of Quellë. I know that these news are going to be as hard on you as the loss of our dear father is to myself and my siblings, and we debated long whether we should wait until one of us could speak to you in person, but we decided that the news would reach you long before that is possible, one way or another, and that it would be better if you were informed by family, not rumour. Uncle, the world is terribly empty without Father, but we take solace from the certain knowledge that his life was long and content, having brought hope, good fortune and security to many people, and that he may have been allowed to see his parents again. Surely he will now come into the presence of Eru Himself, being free of the trappings of his ageing body. I hope that you will find these thoughts comforting...

Elrond did not. Even if the letters had not blurred in front of his eyes, even if his hands hadn't begun to shake so badly that he could no longer hold the letter, he did not want to read any more of this. It could not be true. It must be some kind of mistake. Elros was alive, he was certain of it. He would have felt something when his own brother, half of his being, had died. The world was still turning; the sun was still shining. Vardamir must be wrong. Perhaps Elros had fallen ill - ill enough to make Vardamir fear the worst - but he must have recovered. He must have.

He did not pick up Vardamir's letter again, taking the second folded sheet in his hand instead. There, it bore Elros' familiar seal, a wave crowned with an eight-spiked star. Elros had written him this letter, explaining the mistake, not doubt. His heart beat faster as he broke the seal, only to constrict painfully at the first sentence:

Elros to Elrond, beloved brother, greetings. My dearest Elrond, I beg you do not be alarmed: But by the time that you will be reading these lines, I shall no longer be among the living...