Parting Ways

Parting Ways

Summary: The Peredhil are each given the choice of following the ways of the Edain or the Eldar. The first, Elwing, chose to be counted among the Firstborn. Now, the choice has fallen to her sons, the twins Elrond and Elros. Elros has chosen to live among the Edain, much to the disappointment of his brother who has not made his choice yet. How will Elrond choose? And, how will the brothers part ways?

Disclaimers: Don’t owe them, don’t claim to owe them, wish I did owe them but I’m not as brilliant as Tolkien was so I will settle for merely borrowing them for the purpose of my story.

A/N: Elrond/Elros.
This story, like The Flower and the Fountain, I have based heavily on the Silmarillion. Though, I’ll admit, I got the inspiration for this story from another slash fic I read; I forgot who you are, but if you wrote a slash fic about Celebrian describing to Elrohir the story of a half-elf and his brother, then please let me know so I can give you proper credit.
I couldn’t decide who I wanted to be the elder, so I’m leaving that decision up to the readers. Let your imaginations run wild!
I’ve written slash, but this is my first attempt at writing slash that involves incest (though I’ve read plenty of those before). I hope I didn’t botch it all up.
Reviews, suggestions and comments are welcome. Flames will be ignored, as the content of this story should be made fairly clear seeing as where I am posting this.

~~~~~~~~~~ denotes changes in scene.


Lighting flashed across the darkened sky, illuminating the valley beneath it. A moment later, thunder sounded, filling the air with a loud clapping that drowned out the pounding rain. Seconds passed, and then the process was repeated. First, sheering light, then rolling sound. The sky was bleak, a dark gray color that blocked out all of the sun’s light and warmth. The rain that poured from the overflowing clouds was tremendous, washing through the ground in torrents before weaving small rivers in the grass and joining the Bruinen. The storm was fierce, but admired greatly by the elves.

The inhabitants of Imladris did not lock themselves indoors, like the race of man, when a storm was brewing. They relished the storm and its fury, preferring to dwell outdoors in the soaking rain than remaining inside and dry. Wet robes clung to pale skin as musical voices lifted in laughter and delight. Bare feet danced in the muddy ground, the owners not caring if they looked presentable or otherwise. Anyone observing them would not have thought them to be the same pristine, elegant and formal elves they were on a daily basis. Indeed, they weren’t elves today, they were children again. And, they loved being out in the rainstorm. There wasn’t a dry head in all the valley dwelling…save for one.

Elrond chose not to venture outside on this particular day. From the covered balcony of his study, he observed his children and friends acting anything but their age as they tarried out in the rainstorm. Normally, he would have been outside with them, slinging mud at his twin sons alongside his only daughter, laughing merrily with his seneschals and friends as they danced among the wet grass and little rain-made rivers. But, not today. This particular storm held too many memories. It was similar to the one that had occurred that day, the last day he had seen his brother. The day Elros chose to become mortal.

~~~~~~~~~~

The storm brewing overhead threatened to upturn the tents that had been recently set up. The men of the camp huddled inside their shelters in an attempt to stay dry, wincing each time lighting flashed or thunder sounded. In contrast, their elven counterparts were merrily playing outside like children; Círdan and Gil-galad seemed the most child-like as they laughed and wrestled one another. Again, the thunder sounded, drowning out the laughter, and a somewhat heated discussion that was going on in one of the tents.

“You’ve decided what?!” Elrond asked in exasperation at his twin. Elros sat across from him on a cot, his gray eyes downcast to the ground, raven hair spilling over his shoulders. He did not look up at the face of his brother, who stood over him, long hair framing Elrond’s pale face in the dim light. “You decided to become mortal?”

“Yes, I have, Elrond,” Elros replied. A small sigh escaped him as he looked up at Elrond. They were twins, so much alike many of the edain had a difficult time telling them apart; the eldar were more keen on distinguishing one twin from another. Neither knew who was the eldest; they barely knew their mother, who had joined their father in sailing across the sea with the Silmaril Elwing was keeper of. Maglor had fostered the boys for some time, but then they came into the care of Gil-galad and Círdan. Elwing’s sons had not been named until the day the high king and the shipwright found them.

The twins had always been together. They became closer after joining the high king of the Noldor and fighting in battles at his side. There were nights when they wondered why their mother chose to follow their father instead of staying with them. Those were nights they sought comfort with one another, hugging their double closely as they fell asleep. They did not reproach Elwing for leaving them to follow Eärendil; that was her decision which, they knew, she made out of pure love for their father. But, the twins wished to know why she abandoned them rather than taking her sons with her. It was a question they ceased finding the answer to, and instead lived their lives day-by-day in Gil-g’s c’s company.

Now, the Second Age was upon them. The Valar presented Elrond and Elros with a choice, the same choice that had been presented to their mother years before: to join the Firstborn, or be accounted among the Secondborn. As Elrond had just learned, Elros had already made his decision.

“But…why?!” Elrond was having a difficult time believing what his brother had just told him. He had always assumed he and Elros would be inseparable until the day of their death. He had been hoping the two of them would sit down and discuss the matter of their mortality together before coming to any conclusions. But, here Elros was saying that he had already made his choice. And, Elrond wasn’t too sure if it would be the same choice he would make.

“I dowantwant an immortal life, Elrond,” Elros tried explaining, running a slim hand through his hair. “Our grandfather, Tuor, was mortal. So was Beren, whom we are also related to. One was given a second chance at life, the other was granted immortality in Valinor. I want neither. All I want is to become mortal, and live a mortal’s life.”

“But such a life is so short! What can you do with such time? What can you do knowing one day, any day, you will cease to exist in this world?!”

“Everything I can, Elrond. Everything I can. Just because a man’s life is shorter than an elf’s does not mean the man is less capable of performing great deeds. Indeed, Beren performed aber ber of notable deeds in his lifetime, did he not? And what of Tuor? Did he not lead the survivors of Gondolin to safety? Even with a mortal‘s life span, I too can do something for this world before I leave it behind.”

“Elros…”

“Make your decision on your own, Elrond,” Elros interrupted gently. His voice was kind, urging rather than insisting. He wanted to make his brother understand that Elrond held his own fate in his hands and should not base his decision on Elros‘ thoughts and deeds. “We are twins, gwanur. We will always be close kinsmen. But, do not let my decision affect yours. Follow your heart, and never regret the path you choose to walk. Especially if your path runs a different course than mine.” Elrond pondered his words for a moment before silently leaving the tent. Elros did not follow him, but remained on the cot where he sat. Elrond needed time to assess his feelings, his brother knew that.

~~~~~~~~~~

The rain had slackened little as Elrond began to wander the camp. He purposefully avoided the other elves, not wishing to trouble them with his thoughts; the storm had lifted their spirits, made them forget the worries of the world. The droplets of water wet his hair, causing the raven strands, as well as his robes, to cling to his skin. Elrond cared little about where he was going; all he knew was that he needed to put some distance between his brother and himself so that he could think in a clear manner. His efforts at concealing himself had been in vain, however, when the young Peredhel walked straight into another body.

“Forgive me,” he began to apologize. “I should watch where I am going. I didn’t realize…”

“Elrond?” The young elf looked up when he heard the voice of his teacher, his confidant, someone who had known his father as a child before the fall of Gondolin.

“Erestor.”

“Is something wrong, pen-neth?” Erestor had been childhood friends with Eärendil; he had witnessed the twins’ birth and had been the one who insisted that Gil-galad and Círdan find the boys when they had gone missing. A lore master at heart, Erestor was also well-versed in the arts of combat. His figure was more willowy than other male elves, his body’s likeness more like that of a she-elf’s. As a warrior, he was just as fierce as the others. But, in his natural, lore master’s state, Erestor was kind and caring though his exterior looked stern. Elrond had always found him the perfect company and confidant; but, today, the Peredhel just didn’t feel up to sharing his thoughts with his teacher.

“No, Erestor,” Elrond replied. “There is nothing wrong; I’m all right. I just need to watch where I’m going. The storm is dropping a thick rain tod He He hoped Erestor would buy his story, but, of course, the teacher didn’t.

“Yes, indeed. The rain makes it difficult to see, and the blackness of the night is not helping. Come, let us slip into my tent and warm up for a bit.” Before the young elf could protest, Erestor had taken a firm hold upon his arm and deftly began to steer Elrond towards his awaiting tent. The Peredhel had no choice but to follow; he entered when bidden.

He sat on a cot at Erestor’s insistence while the teacher swept around the tent gracefully. First he gathered blankets, handing one to Elrond before wrapping up in his own, after which Erestor proceeded to make them each a cup of tea. The rain outside was warm and pleasant to the skin, but the elder elf liked shared company and a cup of tea after a romp in the rain. Erestor handed Elrond a cup as he sat across from the younger elf and waited for him to begin his tale.

“Did you know my mother, Erestor?” Elrond asked, holding the cup in both hands close to his face, the steam warming his cheeks. The other nodded, taking a sip from his own cup before replying.

“I knew your father better but, yes, I did know Elwing. She was a fine lady, very kind and loving.”

“Do you know why she left us then?” Erestor thought on the question as he quietly sipped his tea.

“I can only speculate; I have no definite answer. But, she was the guardian of a Silmaril. My belief is that she wanted to keep it safe from the hands of the sons of Fëanor, as she was uncertain as to what they would do once they reclaimed the jewel. In addition, she loved your father greatly and hoped to join him upon the sea.”

“Did she not have any love for her sons?” Elrond questioned, his voice insistent and demanding answers. “Did she not love her children enough to stay with them and protect them? Why did only father command all of her heart?!” At the anger beginning to swell in Elrond’s eyes, Erester reached over and lightly cupped a hand around the youth’s knee, squeezing gently for comfort.

“You mother did love you, pen-neth. I believe she left you as a way of protecting you. It was not widely known that Elwing had given birth to two twin sons. Perhaps she left to protect you, for there was a chance that Maglor and Maedhros would not know you were her sons, and, therefore, would not be used to bargain with.” Erestor sighed, releasing Elrond’s knee as he sat back. Observing his student carefully, the teacher noted a pain present in the stormy gray eyes. Elrond had always been troubled by his mother’s past actions; the idea that she loved her husband more than her sons always troubled the half-elf. But, today, there was something else haunting the young eyes.

“There is something on your mind other than Elwing, isn’t there, Elrond?” Erestor pressed gently. A long, sad sigh escaped the younger elf’s lips, stirring the surface of the tea as he brought his cup to his lips and took a long drink.

“It is Elros.”

“Yes, what about your brother?”

“He…he has decided to become mortal.”

“I see. And?” Elrond frowned, suddenly disliking Erestor’s keen observant nature. The lore master could read through almost anyone as easily as he flipped through the pages of a book. He almost seemed to be able to read the thoughts of others, though Erestor’s own thoughts were completely hidden. Elrond suddenly didn’t feel like speaking about the matter troubling him; he knew he had to, otherwise his problems would slowly eat away at him.

“I don’t like it.”

“Don’t like what?” Erestor questioned. “Don’t like him becoming mortal? Or, don’t like him making a decision without first speaking with you?”

“Both.” A pale hand wandered through Elrond’s hair as the youth spoke. “I can’t understand his decision. Why become mortal? Why choose to live a shortened life when you could have one that last an eternity and watch the beauty around you? Why did he hto cto choose to die? Why did he have to choose without asking me first?” His voice choked as the last words left him, tears just beginning to spill over his cheeks. In silence the pair sat, Erestor allowing his student to release the flood of emotions he had been keeping inside of him. Resting his cup on the ground, the lore master reached over to gather Elrond into his arms, setting the other‘s cup next to his own. The younger elf didn’t protest but, rather, sank into the welcoming, warm embrace as his tears began to stain his teacher’s tunic.

He cried for his mother, for his father. He cried for his lost youth without parents, for the brother he loved and who was leaving him. He cried for himself and the overwhelming decision he had to make. Both Elrond’s mind and heart were in turmoil. He had so many questions that he knew no one would have an answer to. The future felt so uncertain at the moment; he wished he were a child again and in the safety and comfort of his mother’s arms. But, he wasn’t. He a h a half-elf and old enough to make decisions on his own. Whatever decision he came to, Elrond would have to live with the consequences.

“Feeling better?” Erestor asked soothingly. The lore master had allowed his student to cry, offering Elrond comfort by his mere presence. He could only imagine how difficult it was for Elrond to accept everything that had happened to him in his short life. Erestor had lived through the fall of Gondolin and the sack of the Mouths of Sirion. But, that was nothing compared to what Elrond must be feeling now.

At the sound of his mentor’s voice, Elrond gently disengaged himself from Erestor’s embrace. He sat up, wiping the remaining tears from his eyes as he composed himself. It had felt good to cry and be comforted. But, now Elrond had things to do, things to discuss. He nodded at Erestor’s question as his teacher took hold of his hands.

“Now listen to me, Elrond Peredhel,” Erestor said in a low voice. “You are your own person. Your brother has made his decision; your mother before you made hers. You must choose your own path regardless of the path others lead or what they may think of you. No one knows who or what you will become; indeed, not even you may know such a matter unless you have been granted the gift of farsight. Trust in your heart, Elrond; you can never go wrong if you believe in yourself and trust in your instincts.” Elrond nodded before embracing his tutor.

“Diola lle, Erestor.” The lore master smiled, gently patting his student’s back.

“Now, I think it is time you go speak with your brother.” Elrond nodded before pulling away. He flashed the other elf a small smile before leaving the tent and stepping out into the rain again. The warm droplets seemed to cleanse his soul as it soaked through his clothes once again. With firm, even steps, Elrond quickly made his way back to the tent he shared with his twin. Silently he slipped inside and shut the flap behind him.

Elros had not moved from the cot in the time Elrond had been gone. Rather than sitting, he had stretched himself out on the bedding, his head pillowed on one arm with his back to his brother. Quietly Elrond approached, seating himself on the cot before touching his brother’s shoulder lightly. There was a small stir of movement followed by a sigh before Elros turned onto his back, identical gray eyes staring up at his twin.

“Where did you go?” he asked.

“I needed some time to think,” Elrond replied, removing his boots before he too stretched out upon the cot. The space was large enough to accommodate their two lithe forms, with some space to spare.

“And what did you think about?” He sighed deeply as Elros shifted, reaching over so that his arm was slung about Elrond’s waist, bringing them even closer together.

“Lots of things.”

“About mother?”

“She was one of them.” The twins were quiet for some time afterwards, listening to the rain mingled with laughter and hugging one another close.

“What is your decision?” Elros finally asked, unable to stand the silence any longer.

“I don’t know.” Absentmindedly, Elrond reached up, first fingering his brother’s ear then his own, both pointed at the tip in the manner of the elves. Since deciding to become mortal, Elros physical appearance had changed a bit; he still possessed the same lithe elven form, but his shoulders had become slightly broader, his arms a little thicker. The heightened senses his elvish blood entitled him had also diminished somewhat. But, Elrond quickly noticed, they were still very much identical to the other. “I’m still not sure at this moment,” Elrond spoke again, his voice a quiet whisper.

“You’ll need to decide soon, gwanur.”

“I know.” Elrond sighed deeply, closing hies. es. “I just don’t know what to decide.”

“Become an elf, gwanur.”

“What?!” He couldn’t believe what Elros had just said. Elrond sat up quickly, his face betraying what he really felt though he tried to hide it behind a mask of impassiveness. He was shocked at what his brother had said. What had Elros meant by asking Elrond to become an elf? He could only stare down at Elros as his twin stared back up at him. “What do you mean ‘become an elf?’ ”

“Exactly whasaidsaid, Elrond. I know you love the majesty of the elves. I also know how much you desire to become a lore master and collect as much information about the eldar as possible. I’ve seen how attentive you are during Erestor’s lessons. It would suit you better to become an elf lord than it would I.”

“How can you ask me such a thing?!”

“Because I know it’s what you want.”

“I…” Elrond fell silent at the gentle finger placed upon his lips. Elros sat up, dark hair swirling about his shoulders as he fixed his gaze on his brother.

“We are brothers, Elrond. Nay, we are more than brothers; we are twins. Even if one of us dies, the bond between our souls will never be broken. When all else seems lost, when darkness closes in and it feels as if nothing is left, we will still have each other. You will never be alone, Elrond, not even when you believe you are. Because I will always be there. I will always be with you, in spirit.” The tears were coming again as Elros pulled his brother into a warm embrace. “You are my brother, Elrond. You will always be my soul.”

“Gwanur…” For the second time that night, Elrond shed his tears. But, the voice whispering comforts into his ear was that of his brother, not of his mentor. And, he would now have to say good-bye, forever, to that voice.

“This is farewell,” Elros whispered. “In the morning, we will go our separate ways. I will go with the edain and we will find our own lands to inhabit; you will go with the High King and Círdan to Lindon. These are our paths, Elrond. We must walk the paths the Valar have set before us.”

“I do not wish to say good-bye.”

“Then, let us not say good-bye, but, rather, create a memory.”

“A memory?”

“Aye. One that will see us through all the dark times ahead. Let us share a last memory together, my dear brother.” Elrond nodded, feeling the chaste kiss being placed upon his forehead. He opened his mouth to let out a gasp as he felt Elros’ lips trail across his temple and cheek before pressing upon his own; the joining of their kiss drowned out the sound. The kiss was sweet, the beginning of the mingling of souls, bound together forever. Elrond leaned back, stretching out upon the cot and drawing Elros’ slightly larger frame with him. Tongues danced and wrestled, slipping across kiss bruised lips. The kiss ended as they both gasped for breath, chests heaving against one another. Silence fell upon them agand,and, for a long while, all they did was lie together, arms embracing their double tightly.

Slowly, Elros’ hands began to move, first unfastening the laces of his tunic before beginning work on his brother’s. Elrond watched him with curious eyes, following his every movement intently. He obediently moved his limbs as Elros pushed the tunic away from his shoulders. A small moan escaped Elrond as his now naked torso came into contact with his brother’s. Lips brushed together again in a brief kiss before Elros trailed light kisses across his double’s neck and chest; all the while, his hands were busy undoing the laces of their leggings, discarding the garments when he was done.

It seemed like agonizing torture as Elrond felt his brother’s lips move lover, grazing lightly across his abdomen. He surpassed a giggle as one of Elros’ hands passed over a particularly sensitive spot on his side. A warm, wet tongue dipped into his navel before moving lower, brushing lightly across the tip of his arousal. A harsh, ragged gasp sounded as Elrond became overwhelmed by the mind-numbing sensations such a simple touch could bring. He groaned deeply when his erection was swallowed whole, buried into the heated cavern of his twin’s mouth.

Elros’ tongue was unusually skilled, Elrond quickly learned as he felt his twin’s tongue swirl around the base of his cock before sliding up and down the length; Elros’ fingers were gentle as they lightly probed the sac underneath, and the twin globes it held. He made some sort of purring noise, to which Elros chuckled, the vibrations of this throat sending tendrils of delight creeping over Elrond’s skin.

Elrond could do nothing but writhe and squirm as his twin continuing his slow ministrations, bringing the both of them closer to their climax. He closed his eyes as he felt slippery fingers tease his opening before pressing in, slowly stretching and preparing him. As his brother’s hands prepared and pleasured him, Elrond gave into the swirling array of emotions and pleasures spiraling through his body. He arched his back, seeking to press himself further into the hot cavern of his brother‘s mouth, but a firm hand held Elrond‘s hips down. A deep throated groan sounded from his lips as Elros’ fingers brushed against the hidden spot deep within him.

No sooner had the pleasure begun when it was taken again. Elrond grimaced in frustration, but the scowl ended with a soft gasp as Elros replaced the fingers at his brother’s entrance with something harder, thicker. Gently, he pressed his erection against the tight entrance, slowly pushing in until he was fully sheathed. The twins were slightly thicker than normal elves; being stretched by three fingers didn’t feel as painful as this. Elrond winced as the pain caused by the breached entry spasmed through his body, before slowly subsiding and giving way to more pleasure. Elros paused for a moment, allowing the both of them to adjust; his tongue flickered out to wet the tip of his brother’s ear before he lightly sucked on the lobe, feeling his twin shutter at the action.

“Shall I continue?” Elros whispered gently, one hand gently stroking the skin of his brother’s hip in calming circles. Elrond nodded, his voice a hushed whisper as he spoke.

“Uma, gwanur. Saes.” Their lips met again as they built a rhythm together with their bodies’ joining. Elros thrust in again and again, slowly at first but then with increasing speed; Elrond’s hips lifted with each movement to meet his brother’s motions. Gasps and pants mingled with their kisses; hands busied themselves with exploring the identical body pressed against them. Elrond worked to ingrain this last memory of his brother, in the throes of passion, into his mind so that he may recall it again when all seemed lost to him. His back arched in pleasure, lifting his shoulders off the cot, as, with each thrust, Elros managed to find the prostate hidden within him. Then, with a burst of light behind his closed eyes and a deep throated moan, they came in unison, the other’s name leaving their lips in a quiet whisper.

Minutes ticked by as they lay together. With an identical smile on each of their faces, they switched places and roles; Elrond suddenly found himself in the dominate position with his brother becoming submissive beneath him. He was unversed in this role of a joining between males, but went with his instincts as his hand wandered to Elros’ slowly returning arousal. With a light grasp, Elrond slowly worked his twin into another full erection, fingers dancing slightly over the taut, heated column of flesh. His gray eyes sparkled as he caught the gasp issuing from Elros as he toyed with the head of his double’s erection. Experimenting, Elrond flicked his thumb gently over the slit of Elros’ erection, swallowing his groan as his twin gripped his arms and shuttered in ecstasy.

Quickly, Elrond used the dewy droplets of pre-cum on his fingers to slowly prepare his brother, as had been done for him, before entering. He winced at the flash of pain across his brother’s face; had he looked the same when Elros had pushed into him? Elrond feared for his brother and moved to withdraw, but was stilled by a hand on his arm and a reassuring smile. Returning the smile with a kiss, Elrond set up another rhythm, another dance of joining they could remember. A purring sound issued from Elros as his mirror found his prostate; Elrond took a moment to angle himself, aiming for the same spot again and building up his speed.

Each would remember their brother’s face as their joining occurred. They would remember the faces flushed in pleasure and love, the raven hair spread out in a dark halo around their head or as a curtain about their face. Gray eyes filled with longing would haunt their dreams for nights to come, while the touch of soft hands and gentle lips would linger on their skin for ages. Last of all, they would remember the serenity that showed itself when their orgasm passed and the first bouts of exhaustion settled in. That would be the face they would remember the most in the years to come.

When it was over, Elrond fell forward, exhausted but satiated, his seed spilling deep into his brother‘s body. He felt his body being caught and cradled in the strong arms of his brother; with a sigh, he settled his head upon Elros’ chest and listened to the steady heartbeat next to his ear. He smiled as a kiss was placed upon the top of his head before sleep claimed him, and he knew no more.

~~~~~~~~~~

The rain had ceased sometime in the middle of the night. The laughter and mirth of the elves of the cams gos gone, replaced by the calming silence of a still night and a sleeping camp. One lone figure stood awake, standing in the opening of his tent and staring up at the stars, dressed in nothing but his leggings and the night air. One particularly bright star caught his eye, twinkling as if in greeting when the gray eyes settled upon it. Elrond smiled as he watched the star that was his father sail across the sky. Taking a deep breath, he began in a low voice, speaking in the tongues of the ancient elves.

“I hendi Valaron no, inyë, Elarondo Perelda, maquetan nië nótina Estanessë o si nóreva Ambarenya.” The stars above seemed to brighten after his decision, as if to welcome him among their children. His choice thus made, Elrond let out a long, slow sigh as he closed his eyes. He opened them a second later as a pair of arms clasped him loosely about the waist, drawing him back. A breath of wind stirred his hair as his twin buried his face into Elrond‘s hair, gently nuzzling the pointed ear before sighing again.

“So, your decision is made,” Elros whispered, hugging his twin close. “We part ways tomorrow. We may never see each other again.”

“Yes, we may never. But, we have a memory we can share now. A memory that will last us to the end of our days…and beyond.” Elros smiled and nodded as Elrond twisted in his embrace. The twins shared a long embrace and kiss, their last, as the stars held witness to the final good-bye between them.

~~~~~~~~~~

They had parted early the next morning as the elves set out for Lindon. Elrond remembered looking back once, catching a brief glimpse of his brother at the head of the edain procession; Elros had also turned back in hopes of catching a brief glimpse of Elrond. Their gazes had locked, slow smiles playing across their identical features, before they turned back and saw each other no more. The lord of Imladris had often thought of that night and of his twin, as he did now. Whenever he needed strength, he had thought of Elros; whenever he needed peace, he thought of the single night they had shared.

Watching his own twin sons wrestle in the rain and muddy earth brought back memories for Elrond. His eyes glazed over as he thought of other times and memories he shared with his twin, and of the many memories he shared alone. So lost in this thoughts was he that Elrond completely missed the departure of his sons until they stood breathless and dripping at the door of his study.

“What are you doing inside in such soppy clothes?” he scolding, scowling at them while trying to hid a smile. “Go get changed if you want to speak with me. I will not have you wetting my papers and making them unreadable after Erestor’s painstaking copying.” Elladan grinned, ignoring his father’s reprimand as he stepped into the room, his soaking robes sloshing around behind him. Elrohir’s own robes dripped across the floor as he followed his elder brother, not realizing that he got a few scrolls damp during his short walk. Elrond scowled as he watched the ink slowly began to bleed. He was about to protest again, but soon found each of his arms taken hold of by one of his sons.

“No arguing, Ada,” Elladan chided as he and Elrohir proceeded to haul their father outside, ignoring the glares they were given.

“You shouldn’t be inside sulking on a glorious day such as this,” Elrohir said as they neared the entrance of the manor. “A storm like this doesn’t come often, and it feels so invigorating. You should be outside and enjoying yourself, Ada.”

“Do not presume to think I was not enjoying myself,” Elrond replied, trying in vain to disentangle himself from his children. “I was perfectly fine being inside and out of the rain for once. Sometimes it is better to stay inside during a storm than venturing out.”

“Yes yes, Ada,” Elladan said with a roll of his eyes. “We have heard this speech before.”

“Then release me this minute or…” SPLAT! Elrond looked down to find the front of his burgundy robes covered with mud. The twins instantly released their father as they broke out into fits of laughter as the shocked expression on his face. Raising his eyes, Elrond found both his seneschals and his daughter welding balls of mud behind their backs and innocent expressions of their face. Glorfindel, in particular, was having a difficult time disguising his smirk; it could only be assumed that the blond had thrown the mud at his lord.

With a huff of annoyance, Elrond crossed his arms over his chest, smearing the mud on his robes. His actions brought about more howls of laughter. Finding the opportunity ripe, with a sly smirk, Elrond kicked at some mud at his feet, the little ball landing squarely in Glorfindel’s face and dirtying his golden hair.

“Now that was the last straw, my lord!” the elda shouted, launching himself at Elrond and throwing them both down into the mud. The others joined in and a dog pile ensured, arousing laughter from the other inhabitants of the valley as they watched their lord, his children and advisors thrashing around wildly.

As he wrestled with his eldest child, Elrond felt remarkably cleansed in the rain and mud. His laughter was heartfelt as he and Elladan twisted in the mud, dirtying their clothes and tangling their hair. Thoughts of his brother returned but, this time, they were of happier moments. He felt, not for the first time, that he had chosen right.

/I miss you, gwanur. But, I know we led the paths we were destined to follow. I don’t regret a day that has gone by, by I miss you all the more. I watch my sons and I think of us. Wherever you are now, Elros, I am with you. Im mela lle, gwanur./

Translations:
Gwanur-Brother
Pen-neth-Little one
Diola lle, Erestor-Thank you, Erestor
Uma, gwanur. Saes-Yes, brother. Please
I hendi Valaron no, inyë, Elarondo Perelda, maquetan nië nótina Estanessë o si nóreva Ambarenya-Under the eyes of the Valar, I, Elrond Peredhel, choose to be accounted among the Firstborn of this land known as Middle-earth
Ada-Father
Im mela lle, gwanur-I love you, brother