Ch 3 Sorrows

As they continued to walk, the being broke the silence that had settled around them. “You are wondering who I am. You may call me Yaaraen, if you wish a name.”

Elrohir started a bit. How did the being know what he was thinking?

“Do not worry, Elrondion, the question was there for all to see.”

“Please, Elrohir is my name, I would prefer to be called so.” Elrohir looked at Yaaraen.

“Very well, Elrohir, I shall do as you bid. Ah, we have arrived at our destination.” With that, Yaaraen released the elf’s hand.

Elrohir looked around. He did not recognize his surroundings. It appeared to be a glen, with large trees surrounding a rich green grassy area. In the middle was a mound, with a stone with elvish writing. He moved forward, staring at the writing.

His blood froze as he read the name. Megilindir. He fell to his knees.

“NO! It cannot be! He did not pass from this world! He is my friend!” He turned tear-filled eyes on Yaaraen. “How..,” was all he could get out.

“You were not there to save him from the arrows of the Orcs. Your brothers were not able to see him go down under the crush. By the time they noticed, it was too late. He had gone to Mandros’ Halls,” explained Yaaraen.

“Come, there is still more for you to see,” commanded the being.

Elrohir stumbled to his feet and found himself holding onto the other’s hand. The glen disappeared, and again they found themselves walking, this time in a grey mist.

Nothing could be seen. Finally, the mist cleared, and he found himself in Rivendell. The doors to his home were ahead. He could feel his heart start to beat a little faster. He was sure Elrond would help him understand what was happening.

“Adar!” Elrohir called out. Elrond continued down the hall without stopping. “Adar!" Elrohir noticed his father was grim-faced, with no joy in his eyes.

“Why did he not see or hear me?” he asked, upset at being ignored.

“He can neither see nor hear you. Come, we will see the reason for the grimness of Elrond.”

Elrohir was not sure he wanted to do so, but was pulled along when Yaaraen moved down the hall. He could see that they were headed for the study.

They entered, standing near the door. They could see, and hear, everything. There was a map on the table. Glorfindel was standing near the window, looking at the map.

Elrond’s seneschal turned, saying, “Where were they attacked? We must send out riders to find Celebrian.”

Elrond’s hands were shaking as he replied. “Near this pass. I only hope her end was swift, with no pain.” His face crumpled as he spoke.

Glorfindel put his hand on Elrond’s shoulder. “We will bring her back. I promise that. Elladan will ride with us.”

Elrond just nodded, unable to speak. He looked out of the window, sorrow etched on his face.

Elrohir turned his face away. He could not bear to see his father’s sorrow.

“What is the matter? Without you, your naneth was never found, never returned to Rivendell, and never sailed to the Undying Lands. Let us look in on Elladan and Estel, shall we?” With that, the grey mists surrounded them again.

Translations:

Megilindir - Bladesinger

Yaaraen - Ancient one