No Road Home

Part the Tenth (R)

A shudder violently rocked Elrond's frame, and he clutched Windwalker close to his breaking heart for a long, tortured moment, then tenderly laid her limp body down on the bed, arranging her arms, and closing her dark, empty eyes. He looked up at the others, and they saw the bleakness in his own grey eyes before he turned away. "Bitter indeed, the meal of my words, Mithrandir," he whispered raggedly. "Happiness was in my hands, and I cast it aside, like a fool."

"Wait, my friend," Gandalf touched Elrond's shoulder. "All is not over yet. Her choice was made."

Elrond turned, despair etched in his face. Shocked, the others saw the weight of the Ages in his dull grey eyes and feared for him, knowing his immortality weighed heavily on him in the anguish of his grief. "She did not finish. She did not indicate either Man or Eldar."

"She did more," Galadriel said comfortingly. "She chose you." The Elf Queen pointed at the still, quiet body. "Look."

A mist seemed to hang before Elrond's eyes as he gazed at his beloved's body, a moonlit mist, stars shining through its fog. He shook his head, trying to clear his vision, which was blurred by more than mist. It was then that he saw it.

Her ears.

Windwalker's ears were developing graceful upsweeps, the hints of gentle points at the top.

Her face.

The eyebrows' arch increased just a bit, her features, already delicate in her fragile, declining health, becoming even more sculpted. Soft, rich color returned to the cheeks.

Her hands.

Fingers lengthened slightly, becoming almost translucent in their delicate beauty.

Her body.

It seemed to elongate even as it filled out, the muscles strengthening, emaciation vanishing. The pearlescent skin sparkled, as stars seemed to fall from the sky to take up residence in her body.

Suddenly she took a long, deep breath...

...And opened her eyes. Elrond's own breath departed him momentarily. Her dark, shining eyes were present, and yet deep, as if years of wisdom lay there. They glowed softly with an Elven light. She smiled up at him.

With a wordless cry, Elrond caught her up in his arms.


"She must be named," Gandalf declared. "We have a new Elven Lady in our midst. She requires a Sindarin name."

"That honor, I think, belongs to Elrond," Cirdan noted.

"Agreed," Celeborn said quietly.

"She already has a name," Elrond said softly, still holding her close, gazing into her eyes. "Her name is true, for she led me upon the wind during our joining. Her Sindarin name is Gwaepadir, the Lady Windwalker. But she will be known by the Tsalagi version of that name, as well." Wind pressed close against Elrond as he spoke, and the others saw the love and happiness in her eyes.

"I will answer to any name you wish to call me, Elrond," she murmured, "as long as you want me beside you."

"Then the matter is settled," he smiled at her.

Galadriel glanced at the Peredhel. "Celeborn and I have already informed the rest of the Council of how matters stand with our daughter," she informed him softly, "There will be no opposition on the subject. Unlike Finwe, there are none other here to object." Then she bent bent low, to whisper in Windwalker's ear. "Stay here with him tonight, lovely one," she instructed. "This is a place sacred to the Lords of the Eldar. Humans have their marriage ceremonies, but we have this place. In bringing you here, Elrond declared you his consort, after long years alone. You are his wife now."

"His...his wife?" Wind breathed, scarcely believing it.

"Yes, meleth nin, you are my wife." Elrond's eyes glowed like molten mithril. "Does this please you?" (my love)

Wind's eyes spoke her affirmation for her, in words all present could understand. Then she paused. "Am I...healed?"

Elrond stopped breathing for a moment, his heart in an agony of suspense, as Gandalf laid a gentle hand on her head and closed his eyes, searching. When the wizard's eyes opened, he smiled. "You are Elven, Gwaepadir," he pronounced, "with all that that implies." (Windwalker)

Elrond's lungs resumed function. "You are healed, beloved." He smiled. "We have long years together ahead."

"Then let us depart, so they can begin those years," Gandalf chuckled mischievously. "I am sure they do not need us now." He waved the Council out.


Elrond waited until the rest of the Council had disappeared into the trees, then he quickly removed his overgarment, slipping between the covers next to Windwalker. She glanced at him curiously, noting his unaccustomed haste, and he shrugged, smiling. "I wish to see what has changed," he informed her, and her laughter rang out, echoing through the forest.

"I think little of importance has changed, dear Elrond," she informed him affectionately. "My heart's the same, I know."

"You cannot see yourself yet."

"How so?"

"Look at your hand."

She held her hand up, noting its grace, the lengthened fingers, the way both moon and stars seemed to have blended in her skin. Elrond heard her breath catch. "I AM Elven," she whispered, astounded. "I thought Mithrandir just meant that figuratively." Her hand went to her ear, then to his, tracing the curves. "It isn't as pointed as yours," she noted.

"But it is more so than it was. I...am glad it did not change so very much," he admitted. "I loved you as you were."

"Does it change the way you feel for me?" Wind asked, suddenly worried.

"No, meleth." Elrond gathered her into his arms, nuzzling the delicate point of her ear. "It only makes me happy to know that we have all the time in the World together." (love)

Windwalker's eyes grew heavylidded. "Elrond..."

"Yes?" he breathed into her ear.

"Make me scream again...please..."

"Until your voice has departed you, beloved."

Elrond slid his body over his bride, and they joined again, under the stars of Varda.


In her sleep, Windwalker heard Elrond calling her. "I'm here, Elrond," she answered, glancing around to see him walking toward her through the suimhallorn forest of her dreams. (like-mallorn)

"I miss you, beloved," he told her as he took her hand. "You are not one with me yet."

"But...we made love."

"There is more to Eldar love than the physical," Elrond told her. "Awake, and I will show you."

With a sigh, Windwalker pulled herself from her dreams and woke, finding Elrond lying beside her, his long fingers idly stroking her naked breast. "There you are," he smiled down at her. "We are not finished quite yet."

"I don't understand."

In answer, Elrond bent his head to hers. But instead of kissing her, he pressed his forehead against hers. "You must give me permission," he told her. "I heard your thoughts once, by accident. But to be truly one with me, you must accept a level of intimacy that includes thought shared."

He heard her breath catch in excitement. 'YES!' came through to him clearly then. Suddenly his being was flooded with love, her love, as their minds merged, and he saw himself through her eyes. He blinked, seeing a being that seemed almost demi-god, but with his own face, and abruptly Elrond understood her shyness around him and his people.

'Do you see me so?' he asked, startled.

'You ARE so,' came the decided response.

'No, I am not, beloved.'

'To me, you are.'

Elrond had no argument for that.

Instead, he showed her his own image of her, and she gasped. 'That isn't me,' she informed him. 'It can't be.'

'Why not?'

'I've never been that gorgeous. I'm not even very pretty.'

Teasingly, he reflected her words back at her. 'To me, you are.'

'I wish I knew how to tell you how I feel.'

'You are doing an excellent job, Wind.' His arms tightened about her.

'This helps,' she admitted, snuggling close, 'but...Elrond, I don't even understand how I feel myself! The last time I had anyone to love, who loved me, was when I was a small child. This is...like flying. I want to dance.'

'Then we will dance.'

Elrond got out of bed, pulling her up with him. He drew her out onto the grass of the clearing, their bare feet wet with the dew, and he pulled her against his chest. In the distance, they could hear Elven-song floating on the breeze, and he began to move to it, leading her along in a simple dance. As she learned the steps, he felt something change in her. Glancing behind them, he saw...nothing. No footsteps in the dew, no bent blade of grass. No sign that two sets of feet had ever passed through the glade, save where they had exited the gazebo in the enthusiasm of lovers. Their naked bodies glistened in the starlight, shimmering, moving close in the dance of love, until they could stand it no longer, joining under the stars, bodies wet with dew as they eased into the soft grass. This joining, intensified by the sharing of minds, was even more exquisite than before, each knowing exactly how to please the other as soon as the other realized it. She leaned over him, her long dark hair spilling around them like a curtain, and he smiled as he felt her passion peaking.

'Elrond!' he heard her mental cry, 'Please! Don't ever let me go...'

'Never, beloved!' he gave answer, letting her pull him over the edge of the abyss, falling deliciously with her into desire fulfilled.

Then he lifted her into his arms and bore her back to their bridal bed.