A young man stands in front of a mirror. He is dressed for dinner in his best clothes which have been carefully chosen for him by his mother. His dark hair is washed and brushed over his ears to frame his face. He studies his reflection.

"Estel, son of Elrond," he says, for that is his identity.

For his whole life - all twenty years of it - this is who he has believed he is. He knows this dinner is important although not the reason why. But it will not change the truth - he is not an elf.

The funeral will be grand. The procession will be led by elegant black horses, who will parade around the city for all to see and mourn. All will have a chance to say goodbye to their old king and greet the new, for I will walk with it.

My sisters will cry. My mother will comfort them. I will do my best to comfort her. It will not work because there is nothing I can say to make her feel better - and nothing she can say will take the pain away.

Nothing we do will bring my father back.

I watch the little boy playing in my garden and I must make a decision.

The one that means Imladris is his home I made long ago and I will not rescind it. This distant nephew of mine needs help, support, and a father. Should that father be me?

In two hundred years he will be merely a memory, another name in history. I am not sure I want to watch this boy die as his fathers did. Yet when I look at Aragorn I know I cannot refuse him.

There is no decision, my mind is already made up.

Double drabble

***

Rivendell was the first home I remembered. My family live there among the green grass and the woods, between the river and the mountains. Although other races visit, only the elves really live there. To them I am The Dúnedan - the only one they know.

I was born in the Angle, where my mother lived for a time, and my father too. It is less pretty and more functional for the men who live there, and the Rangers who call it home. The people there know me as their Chieftain.

Minas Tirith, the white city, is where my heritage lies. Far to the south, it is also home to Rangers. I did not live there long and those who might recognise me would not know my name.

I made my home in Rohan for a time. There are no Rangers there - none of the Dúnedain - but they do have many fine horses. Those who knew me are now dead.

I do not have one home, unless you call it Middle-earth. Home is where I sleep. Tonight it is Bree, tomorrow it may be somewhere different. Perhaps one day there will be only one place I call home.

Half drabble

***

Elrond looked behind him to see the landscape of an Imladris that was no longer his. He remembered building this place and defending it; raising children and tending to the wounded. Now he found that the hardest farewell was to the valley he had called home for over an Age.

Aragorn rummaged through the box of his belongings that Elrond had left for him. He pulled out a spinning top and smiled - he'd had no idea Elrond had kept this. Elrond had never been particularly sentimental.

"That's my top," Arwen said. He was getting too used to peacetime - he hadn't heard her come in.

"Your top? It was my first toy when I arrived in Rivendell."

"Elladan and Elrohir made it for me. I didn't know father had kept it."

"It must be as dear to him as it is to us."

They didn't know, but it was.

Elrond surveyed the room and considered Lúthien's story. He knew how similar Arwen's was to it and he was determined not to repeat her father's mistake. Arwen was more precious to him than anyone or anything else in Arda but that did not give him the right to keep hold of her forever.

As she danced Arwen looked towards Elrond and gave him a smile that proved her to be the most beautiful person there. He could not help but smile back. All he wanted was his daughter's happiness and as long as he got it he would be content.

Elrond surveyed the room and considered Lúthien's story. He knew how similar Arwen's was to it and he was determined not to repeat her father's mistake. Arwen was more precious to him than anyone or anything else in Arda but that did not give him the right to keep hold of her forever.

As she danced Arwen looked towards Elrond and gave him a smile that proved her to be the most beautiful person there. He could not help but smile back. All he wanted was his daughter's happiness and as long as he got it he would be content.

When Estel lunged, Elrond came around to his side and adjusted his stance once more.

"Again," he commanded.

Estel did as he was told.

"Good, now do that again."

Estel could have sworn his sword had got heavier throughout the lesson. Elrond seemed determined that he get this move right and Estel wondered why it mattered. When fighting orcs what difference would it make?

Estel repeated the move perfectly once more, only now Elrond parried and hit him, startling Estel.

"Where was your response?"

Estel sighed. At this rate he was never going to be as good a swordsman as Elrond.

"The shards of Narsil. Elendil's own, used by his son, Isildur, to cut the ring from Sauron's finger in revenge for the death of his father. It was once such a beautiful sword, now it lies in pieces in Rivendell, waiting for the right time and the right person for it to be re-made. For now it is kept lovingly, the edges still sharp... oh, it is not as sharp as I thought it would be. Come to think of it, it looks fairly nondescript as well."

"Actually, that isn’t Narsil, it's the sword I broke in practice this morning."

For Jay of Lasgalen

***

The decision is made.

Although father cautions us to be careful and tells us it will not bring back that which was lost, nor restore our broken family, I can tell he would do the same in our place.

Arwen cries, for she does not wish us to leave. But home will never be the same again and there seems little point in staying. There is nothing for us here any more.

The decision is made and we will ride out tomorrow. We will not rest until we kill all orcs so no others will suffer what our mother did.

For Imhiriel

***

Elrond found Gilraen in the garden doing nothing. He sat beside her and waited for her to speak.

"I got used to having him at home," she said, "but now..." she trailed off.

"Do not worry, Elladan and Elrohir will protect him."

"The last time Arathorn went out with your sons he didn't come back."

There was silence.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply they were responsible."

Elrond turned to look her in the eyes. "I cannot promise you your son will return and I cannot promise mine will either. We share the same fears."

Gilraen smiled in understanding.

For Sphinx

***

"Did your father speak with you?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied. "When we marry you will be King."

"It is better than we hoped," he said, taking her hands. "I feared he would not let you go."

"He would if I wished it." She knew if she pleaded with him she would be able to marry Aragorn sooner, but that she would not do, for he only wished to ensure it was truly what she wanted. "I fear," she continued, "that you will go and I will never see you again."

"Not when I have you to come back to."

For Flick

***

Faramir walked the city, desiring solitude. He tried to shake off his feelings of guilt for giving Boromir's clothes to the poor of Minas Tirith. Boromir no longer needed them, yet Faramir was not ready to give his brother up.

He was not allowed to be alone, though, for Aragorn fell into step beside him.

"I always wondered what it would be like to grow up with a brother," he said.

Faramir gave a rueful smile. "When we were younger and we fought I would wish I didn't have a brother."

Aragorn frowned. "Tell me," he said and Faramir did.

For nutterzoi

***

"Adar."

Elrond turned to her and there was a tear in his eye. Arwen stepped back - her father never cried. But he held out his arms and smiled at her, so she stepped into them.

"I wish things were different," she said.

"We cannot change the past."

Arwen said nothing, wishing she could hold on to childish fantasies.

"I should not have let your mother go, but now I must, though I do not want to."

"Neither do I."

But they both knew he would do what was best for Celebrían, not Elrond. He always had and always would.

For Starlight

***

The day was warm and there was a breeze to speed the travellers on their way - a perfect day for sailing. Would that this was only a trip.

Elrond stood on the shore, his hair blowing in his face. He did not notice because he was watching the ships as they moved further away. As his brother moved further away from him.

He knew not whether he would see Elros again. It did not matter though - his brother had eagerly anticipated this day, looking forward to his new life. Now it was time for Elrond to begin his.

Double drabble for Gywnydd, Avon, Nickey and Lady Aranel

***

"No, older."

"Come on, Pippin, he doesn't look much older than you."

"Why don't we ask him? Loser buys the beer at the next inn we see?"

"That could be a very long way," but Aragorn was smiling as he dropped back level with the two hobbits. "What is the wager?"

"Legolas' age."

"Ah," Aragorn nodded, pretending not to hear Legolas catch up to them.

"Do you know?"

"Yes, Merry, I do."

"Tell us!" Merry and Pippin exclaimed at the same time.

"Legolas might not want me to reveal it. Elves keep their ages a secret, you know."

"We won't tell him you told us."

"Well, if you promise." Aragorn bent down to whisper to the hobbits, "He is older than me, but younger than an Age."

"Strider!"

"I can tell you Aragorn's age to the day," Legolas said, giving Aragorn a wicked grin.

"Traitor," Aragorn said as Merry and Pippin turned round, all thoughts of Legolas' age forgotten as the Elf whispered more quietly than Aragorn had.

When Legolas straightened the hobbits gave Aragorn a pair of smirks and ran to tell Frodo and Sam.

"And just what did you say, my friend?"

Legolas' only answer was a smile.

For AfterEver

***

When he first saw her he knew at once he could never have her. Not only was she the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, she was also intelligent and caring. But she was young - too young.

It did not matter anyway for he could not remember how to speak. He wanted to approach but he could not think of a single good thing to say. If he told her his thoughts they would scare her away.

She must have seen him staring because she came over.

"My lord, Arathorn."

When she smiled he forgot how to breathe.

For RubyGamgee

***

Sam carefully gathered up the daisies and buttercups, being sure to pull the weeds out by their roots before cutting the flowers off. The little vase had stood empty for long enough and once again there would be colour in the kitchen of Bag End.

When Sam had explained why they had to be dug out Mr Frodo had not understood. Eventually they had compromised and Sam had been allowed to tend the weeds as he wished, as long as he saved the flowers. Sam was glad he did for he agreed with Mr Frodo - they did look pretty.

For Rainsong and Marta

***

The moment Elrond saw her he threw himself into her arms and held on tight. He reminded himself of her touch and her scent, but most of all that she was there and she was whole again.

He never wanted to let go but had to pull back to better remember her kiss, finding his memory a pale comparison to reality. He fortified himself with the look in her eyes directed at him and knew he could deny it no longer and would had to face reality.

Taking a deep breath he said, "I have to tell you about Arwen."

For fileg and Uineniel

***

"Who was he?"

Aragorn and Eldarion had spent many nights going looking at the list of names of those who had died fighting in the Ring War. As they went Aragorn described the actions of each of them: why they were heroes and how they came to die. He was confident their stories would inspire Eldarion, although Aragorn hoped his son would never have to face a war as desperate as the one he himself had.

"What did he do?" Eldarion asked.

Aragorn looked to where he pointed and saw the name written. He told him, "He was my friend."

How can I pack all my worldly goods? I have lived in Rivendell for so long and I have accumulated so much.

What shall I take with me? How much do I need and how much do my sons need here with them?

Can I really leave my daughter here to die? What shall I do with her possessions? She may want to give any of them to her children, the grandchildren I will never see.

As I feel unsure of my answers, I think of who awaits me, beyond the sea, and I know I need nothing, only myself.

For Jay of Lasgalen and Malinear

***

I feel so alone.

The house seems empty now that mother has left. I miss her. I still need her.

I cannot stay here, there are too many people. My brother feels the same way. We made a pact to avenge her suffering; to ensure no others have to endure what she did. It gives us the perfect excuse to leave.

We prepare our horses in silence for there is no need for words. We will not allow our family to be split apart any more, so we journey together.

My brother is with me; I am never alone.

"That's a good pot of flowers you have there, Mister Frodo. Where did you get them from?"

"I'd rather not say, Sam. They're a gift, you see."

"I do, Mister Frodo. I do."

But the flowers in his hands were the most healthy looking, prettiest ones Sam had seen in a long while and he could not help but be jealous.

"Whoever it is, they're lucky to get a present like that," he said, turning sadly away.

Frodo stopped him. "Yes Sam, they're for you," he said with a smile Sam could not help but return.

"Happy Birthday, Mister Frodo."

For Nessime

***

I will not fail my people: we will hold the Fords, though it seems I am more important to Saruman. His orcs would have killed me if Grimbold was not here. He thinks me dead but I cannot be, I am needed.

I can no longer move, yet I can still think, worry about my cousin's life and whether they will slay him next.

When I feel hands on me, I speak to those I can barely see, "Let me lie here - to keep the Fords till Éomer comes!" I need to say more but I haven't the time.

***

Note: Théodred's last lines from The Battles of the Fords of Isen, Unfinished Tales

Celebrían awoke, puzzled to be able to smell breakfast. Upon opening her eyes she quickly discovered why: Elrond stood in the doorway with a tray of food.

When he saw she was awake he put the tray down and came over to the bed to kiss her. The passion of it surprised Celebrían.

"What is all this for?"

Elrond looked slightly embarrassed. "We've been married a year and our anniversary just seemed so far away. I thought..."

Celebrían smiled. She quite liked Elrond nervous and speechless. "I agree completely," she said, and kissed him, this time matching his earlier ardour.

Double drabble

***

"I wish," Frodo said, "I was back in my bed in Bag End."

They slept on the ground under the stars and Sam could not remember the last time he had a good nights sleep. He wished for his own bed but he said nothing for fear of Frodo sending him home alone.

"I wish," Frodo said, "it was summer, and dry."

The rain had not stopped all day and everything they had was wet. Sam wished it too but said nothing because no amount of wishing could change the weather.

"I wish," Frodo said, "that Bilbo had never found the ring."

They had made it to Mordor, but Sam just wanted the ring destroyed so he could once again recall the taste of food and the sight of the sun. He said nothing because if Mr Bilbo had never found the ring he would never have destroyed the dragon, the ring would have stayed with Gollum and the Shire would still be in jeopardy, with no hope.

"I'm glad," Frodo said, "to be home again."

Bag End had never seemed so comfortable and inviting. But as long as Sam was with Frodo he was home, so he said nothing.

Double drabble for Mysterious Jedi and Tanuswolf

***

"So, what do you think?"

Aragorn looked thoughtful, appearing to give the question great consideration. "I think you are mad, my friend."

"You don't think she will like it?"

Aragorn grinned. "You are marrying Eowyn. I am not sure those are the actions of a sane man. And, no, I don't she will like it," he said, becoming serious at last.

Faramir sighed. He was, he had to admit, at something of a loss. "She's from Rohan, so she likes horses. I thought I couldn't possibly go wrong with horses."

"Just wait until she beats you round the head with it." Aragorn could not help but chuckle at the notion.

"You think this is funny, don't you?"

"Well, yes," Aragorn conceded.

"So," Faramir turned on his friend, "what have you got for the Lady Arwen?"

"Ah, well, I'm... working on that."

"Hmm."

There was a pause. "Help!" Aragorn pleaded.

"Only if you help me first."

"Agreed."

The two friends shook hands.

"Just don't tell Arwen."

"I won't. As long as you don't tell Eowyn."

And the two women never had any idea what their future husbands originally had in store for them, so pleased they were with their eventual gifts.

For Vistula the Dunedain

***

"Master Elrond, I wanted to thank you. Mr Frodo would have died without your help."

"That is what I am here for, Master Samwise."

"I also wanted to apologise for my actions. You offered us a place to stay and we are grateful for it. And for everything else you have done for us."

"Think nothing of it. Frodo was ill and you were worried. Now Frodo is awake he will be needing your help."

"Thank you, sir." Sam took his leave and Elrond fondly watched him go, knowing there would be harder things in store for the two hobbits.

All of Imladris stood enchanted as they watched their Lord and Lady dance. It had been many months since Elrond had taken up this duty and, although his face was still grave, they hoped this was a sign that the dark days were now behind them.

Their eyes slid away from the Lady, yet if they had looked more closely they would have noticed the couple's eyes did not meet and they did not dance together as easily as they were used to seeing. In time, they would improve, as both Elrond and Arwen grew used to her new role.

Faramir gripped the wooden sword tightly in both hands. He looked at his opponent, who could easily reach out and touch him without moving, and tried hard not to be frightened. Boromir would not be scared, he thought.

An image came to him from a story he had been reading. He imagined himself to be the warrior in it, who was quick with a blade and could defeat any enemy. It was no longer Faramir facing an unbeatable foe, it
was Daermaethor who won every fight.

When they began, this time, it was Faramir who got a hit in first.

*Daemaethor - literally great warrior in my dodgy Sindarin (ie entirely got from Dragon Flame)

"It's just not possible," Estel said, "to skim a stone that many times."

Elrohir grinned. "Try it and see."

Estel did and, as predicted, he only managed to skip the stone over the water three times before it sank.

Elladan followed and his stone did twice that. He stared at the river. "I've done better."

"It is possible," Elrohir said, "but you have to believe."

Estel tried again, with no improvement.

"And practice," Elladan added.

"I will practice, then, and prove to you it is impossible for us mere mortals to do what you do."

"I look forward to it."

~*~*~*~

"It's just not possible to skim a stone that many times," Merry complained.

Aragorn grinned. "Try it and see."

Merry did but, despite many attempts back in the Shire, his stone only skipped three times.

Pippin tried to show off but could only manage four. "I've done better," he sighed.

"It is possible," Aragorn said, "but you have to believe."

Merry had another go but his stone sunk after two skips.

"And practice," Aragorn added.

"I will practice, then, and prove to you it is impossible for us mere mortals to do what you do."

"I look forward to it."

"It's just not right, Mister Frodo. Hobbits belong on the ground."

"What if you needed to trim some of the higher branches? Surely it would be easier if you were in the tree."

"Hmm," Sam conceded, but still eyed the tree dubiously. To him, climbing was as unthinkable as building a hobbit hole with more than one storey.

"Come on up, Sam," Frodo called, having scrambled up the tree while Sam was thinking. "There's a great view from the top."

Sam sighed and gave in. Sometimes it was simpler that way. "All right then," he said, "but just this once."

Elrohir was watchful. He was on guard against any attack, taking his turn at defending the Dúnedain camp.

From his position, he could still hear the Men behind him as they talked and sang before bed. The songs were old and good, and he hummed softly along with them. The smell of their pipeweed hung in the air, but it was not so overpowering he would miss the stink of an Orc, should one come close.

He smiled. He had enjoyed their company, but he was glad of the solace, away from the bustle at the end of the day.

Elladan was watchful. He was on guard against any attack, taking his turn at defending the Dúnedain camp.

In the distance he could smell the flowers that opened with the dawn. He saw the sun come over the horizon, and paint the sky in pinks and reds that reflected their battle the previous evening. The flash of a white tail told him a rabbit had dashed back its burrow, too fast for him to catch. Behind him, he heard grunts as the Men began to rise, in preparation for the new day.

He smiled, anticipating the pleasure of their company.

The sun shone brightly on Rivendell. The last of the spring blossom coloured the pathways, the river trickled peacefully and there was a sweet smell on the air. Summer had arrived once more.

The Rangers seeking sanctuary only required rest, not warmth. Elrond greeted them with a smile, made sure they were well fed and given cool beds. He healed the injured and heard the stories of orc activity.

All who dwelt in Rivendell walked with a spring in their step and no one could be sad, sick or worried for long with the twin kindnesses of Elrond and summer.

"I have a son!"

Arathorn was wet and muddy, and undoubtedly cold and hungry as well, but he’d postponed his bath and meal to rush to Elrond and tell him the good news.

Elrond well understood this and greeted Arathorn with a smile and a handshake.

"We have called him Aragorn," Arathorn continued. "I will bring him to see you when he is old enough to appreciate it."

"I look forward to meeting him. Now, you must not neglect yourself in your joy."

Arathorn grinned and left. Elrond watched him go, wishing he could see more children in Arathorn’s future.

Elrond smiled at seeing Arwen and Aragorn so happy. Any doubts he ever had at their union were dispelled upon seeing how much joy it brought to them both. That Middle-earth was now a safer place than it ever been during Aragorn’s life only added to their happiness.

Elrond was also terribly upset that day. Arwen had been torn away from him and when he went to the West he would never see her again. He would not be there to see how she prospered, nor to greet his grandchildren.

But today he could be happy, tomorrow he would grieve.

"But why did you do that?"

Elrond heard the question and leaned over the balcony to find out why Elladan was asking it.

"But you do it wrong," Elrohir replied. "You're supposed to grip it like this."

Both Elrond’s sons held swords and neither had yet seen their father watching them from above. Elrond smiled as he watched them demonstrate the effectiveness of their different holds and try each others out. He resisted telling them they were both right. They would work it out on their own eventually and the knowledge would be sweeter for having been gained by themselves.

The Dúnedain entering Imladris were weary but cheerful. From her vantage point Celebrían could hear that they had killed several orcs and were eager to proclaim it to any Elf who would listen.

Yet their party was not without injury and Elrond left her side to tend to them. There were others who made sure they had hot water for bathing and good food to eat.

Celebrían saw to those who had not been to Imladris before and were looking round in wonder. She smiled and greeted them, and soon they felt as if Imladris had always been their home.

As Elrond held his daughter for the first time he was unable to take his eyes off her. He was amazed to finally be able to see her, though he had already loved her for months. "She's beautiful," he said, in wonder. He should not be so surprised at this, given the beauty of her mother.

"She will break many hearts in the future," Celebrían said with a smile.

"She will break mine," Elrond said quietly. Although he could not imagine how or why she would do such a thing. It was a vision he would remember, but not anticipate.

Sam let the soil dribble between his fingers. It was damp and some of it stuck rather than falling back to the ground. But it was enough to tell him what he needed to know.

"This is rich soil, Mr Frodo," he said to the hobbit watching him.

"That's good, isn't it?"

Sam nodded. "It was too poor to grow much before. But now I can grow any vegetables you want."

Frodo thought about that for a minute. "I don't know, Sam. What do you think is best?"

Sam smiled and told his master his plans for Bag End's garden.