Title: The Secret Under the Sea

Author: Talullah Red (talullahred@gmail.com)
Website: http://www.geocities.com/nottheredbarom2003/

Rating: R
Word Count: 5139
Characters: Elladan/Erestor
Summary: Not today.

Feedback: would be lovely.
Archive: please tell me where it is.
Disclaimer: The characters belong to the estate of J.R.R. 
Tolkien and others. No disrespect intended. No profit made.

Beta: the magnificent Kenaz! Thank you! All remaining mistakes are mine.

Notes: Written for the LJ challenge hall_of_books.

Prompts: fanfic100 prompt 090: home.


Dol-Amroth, 30 Fourth Age


//To hide a lie, a thousand lies are needed.// Proverb from India


Elladan squinted; that was the only way he could discern any details under 
the blazing southern sun. Every grain of sand and every drop of water 
seemed to agree on the point of reflecting as much light as they could in his 
direction. Not for the first time, he ran his finger under his collar, wishing he 
had not been so stubborn in his choice of clothing, and had taken his host’s 
offer of loosely cut cool linens. Around him, others less obstinate better 
enjoyed the day. Imrahil and his family were in their natural environment, 
comfortable and relaxed. His own family, Arwen and Estel, and the sparse 
escort they had brought on this improvised vacation, drank the refreshing 
wine sweetened with fruit and enjoyed the day. Some of them had ventured 
the cool waters for relief but not Elladan.

Eldarion ran to them from the sea, holding seaweed around his chin, trying 
to imitate his father’s beard. Arwen threw her head back in laughter, not 
quite as a polite elven lady would, but with deep, earthy joy. She reclined 
into Aragorn’s shoulder, her mirth waning into a content smile as Eldarion 
settled in her arms, and not for the first time, Elladan caught a glimpse of 
mortality hovering around her. His heart constricted, even as he wondered 
anew on the strange mystery that the most elven of Elrond’s three children 
should be the one who had most promptly relinquished her immortality. 

A breath of sea breeze offered momentary relief and cast shadows aside. 
Elladan enjoyed the scent so different from the freshness of his homeland’s 
forests. Eldarion continued with his antics, making Arwen laugh again. 
Elladan smiled and slowly rose from his blanket.

“Brother,” Arwen called in a Sindarin now tainted with an accent too 
southern, “you move like an old man.”

Elladan smiled in reply but wasted no words. Sometimes he did feel old, but 
not at this instant. He wondered if she saw the same fatigue in his eyes that 
had taken his father and his brother across the sundering sea. Squinting, he 
looked west into the haze and the lowering sun. There was nothing there for 
him but an empty promise.

He brushed the ever-present sand away from his clothes and slowly walked 
away, moving closer to the waterline, letting the surf touch his toes. The 
rolling of the sea mingled with the gull’s cries and the voices of the party 
left behind. Elladan felt lighter, as if the sea had washed though him, 
reclaiming long forgotten, decaying wreckage. 

From afar he could see Legolas knee deep in the water, his breeches starting 
to soak, in deep conversation with Gimli; that was still an unusual vision, 
but a warm, reassuring one. Decided to enjoy the beauty of a well-spent day, 
one of the last in this brief holiday his foster brother had finally conceded 
himself, he looked up to the sky, impossibly blue at its zenith and breathed 
in as much salt-scented air as he could. When his lugs threatened to burst, he 
exhaled, again a vague feeling of freedom and purification spreading 
through him. Were it that easy, he thought to himself, barely feeling the 
tinge of bitterness these long-repeated words usually carried. He walked past 
Legolas and Gimli, nodding a well-humoured acknowledgement and 
marched on to the distant tongue of rock that marked the end of the beach.

The crags grew as Elladan marched on and the voices dimmed until he was 
but a lone, small elf, standing at the end of the world, feeling small before 
the monster like the heroes of old. Only his monster lay inside himself, and 
defeating it would bring him no honour or joy. He took the first step in 
climbing the rock wall, knowing by the low tilt of the sun that his brother 
and sister and all their entourage would be preparing to leave, perhaps 
waiting for him... Aragorn would understand and not send anyone for him, 
he was sure. 

He continued with his climb, knowing it a futile gesture. His life felt like a 
long succession of empty, ridiculous moments so one more would be of no 
consequence. A petrel flew too close to him, perhaps warning him to stay far 
from his nest. He almost lost his grip, but tenacity was the most widely 
acknowledged virtue of the sons of Elrond and he kept on. 

He was sweating profusely and had gathered several scratches and stains of 
bird droppings on this clothes when he reached the top of the cliff. As he 
scampered the last steps, an amused voice cut through the mantle of 
isolation the physical effort had weaved about him. 

“Was it worth it?”

Elladan lowered his head and shut his eyes closed for a moment, regaining 
his composure. When he faced his greeter he was the Lord of Imladris again, 
despite his state of dishevelment.

“Ah, Erestor, how kind of you to join me. I suppose you will immediately 
proceed to informing me that there is a much quicker and comfortable path 
up here.” Elladan did not even try to disguise the acidity in his voice. 

“Quite the contrary... I merely intended to offer you a bottle from Dol-
Amroth’s most excellent cellars to quench your thirst.” 

Erestor walked past Elladan loosely holding a half-empty bottle to his thigh. 
Elladan wondered how much he had drank and how cumbersome it would 
be getting rid of him.

With a careless gesture, Erestor dropped to sit on a rock. He glanced back 
and patted the salt speckled surface in a mute invitation. Elladan contained a 
sigh and sat a few feet away, cultivating his annoyance in stubborn silence. 
The joy of the day had drained and now he was hot, soiled, tired and in 
unpleasant company. He waited patiently but Erestor did not speak. 
Gradually, a peace of sorts settled in, a soothing blend of foreign sounds and 
foreign scents, dulling the edges of the heavy silence. A couple of times 
Elladan stole his eyes from the splendid sunset colours to his companion, 
but Erestor lay reclined, bottle in hand and a smile of contentment on his 
lips. Only a faint wet glint betrayed that his eyes were open and that he still 
regarded the beauty offered before them.

Erestor sighed as the sun finally disappeared under the sea but said nothing 
as he companionably offered Elladan the bottle. The evening breeze had 
cooled the sweat on his skin and he gladly took a swig only to choke and 
spit a second later.

“Elbereth!! I thought this was wine!”

Erestor smirked. “It was once, before the distillation, I suppose.”

Elladan took a careful sip and swished it around his mouth. “One thing I 
have to hand to you: your taste in drink is flawless.”

“Not only in drink,” Erestor replied, “but you care none for that, nor do 
they.” He waved an arm in the direction of the ocean in a sad, drunken 
movement. 

Elladan rolled his eyes, considering what would be more painful: enduring 
Erestor’s drunkenness until he was in a shape to descend whatever pathway 
lay in the dark or trying to carry him now while there was still some light.

As if reading his thoughts, Erestor snorted. “I’m not that drunk, you know. 
Just a little bit. I thought you would take more time climbing.”

“So as I suspected, you are not here accidentaly...” Elladan had something 
more to say but he was reluctant to proffer abasing words.

Smirking, Erestor murmured a sarcastic “brilliant deduction,” avoiding 
Elladan’s eyes.

“The answer is still no,” Elladan spat, rising from his seat. “You needn’t 
have come all the way from Imladris to hear what you already know.”

He tried to walk past Erestor, but a wily hand took hold of his ankle tripping 
him into an ungraceful fall. 

Muttering a curse, Elladan strove to regain his footing but Erestor was upon 
him, still swift in his drunkenness. After wrestling for a few instants with 
him, Elladan hit his head on a protruding rock, diverting his attention from 
gaining the upper hand. Erestor sat on his hips, a smug grin dancing on his 
mouth. 

“Maybe I needed to hear it one more time, and perhaps this time you’ll 
manage to sound convincing enough.”

Elladan gathered all the might of his battle-hardened body and flipped them 
over, listening with pleasure as Erestor’s ribcage made a hollow sound 
hitting the ground. He rose to his feet, letting a cruel smile reach his lips. 
Erestor quickly covered his grimace with a simper.

“Like it rough, eh? That works well for me too.” Erestor moved his hips 
suggestively, repeating his invitation.

Elladan turned his face and spat to the ground. “You’re disgusting. One of 
these days you’re going to reap just what you sow.”

“So will you, my darling, so will you...” Erestor replied as Elladan’s furious 
stomps faded behind him.

~~~~~~

The next day, to Elladan’s satisfaction, Erestor arrived late for lunch. His 
knowing smirk quickly faded, though: Erestor wasted no time in cheerfully 
greeting, and being warmly greeted in return by his host, his family, 
Aragorn, Arwen… it seemed that every one at the table had a kind word to 
dispense to him. Elladan sighed. Apart from their little dispute, he had to 
hand to his former tutor that he was an affectionate, intelligent elf, who took 
true interest in others and thus easily gained their sincere friendship. He 
doubted that Erestor would be as esteemed was his little secret known… but 
he had no intention of revealing it. A twisted, dark part of him wanted to 
inflict a measure of pain upon his tormentor, that much he could admit, but 
not by stooping so low. 

Silenced by his musings, Elladan quickly finished his dessert, an elaborate 
local pudding too rich and spicy for his taste, and excused himself from the 
table. He managed to have a tranquil afternoon riding Imrahil’s finest beasts, 
but at dusk he had no choice but to return to the palace and prepare for 
dinner. As he looked into the mirror, making sure that no single strand of 
hair dared defying the strict order of his austere plait, a now familiar urge 
overtook him: he imagined himself confronting Erestor, engaging him in a 
powerful verbal duel and for once winning and forcing Erestor to confess 
his motives and his sins.

He returned from his reverie, frowning at himself. The last time, still in 
Imladris, that he had attempted something of the sort, it had been gruesome. 
Even now, remembering the heated kiss Erestor had forced upon him, 
Elladan felt both aroused and disgusted, a convulsion of feeling tightening 
his gut and his groin. He had only one thing to do and that was to stay away 
from Erestor, no matter what schemes and lies his father’s former advisor 
might attempt. Taking a deep breath to dissolve the knot in his stomach, 
Elladan left his room with a prayer to Elbereth.

~~~~~~

The dinner had been long but pleasant. Imrahil had sat Elladan next to a 
niece of his, perhaps hoping on an alliance, but fortunately, the girl was 
intelligent and not too committed to the idea of seducing him. It had been 
easy, even pleasant, to play the part, to charm her with educated 
conversation, to dance, and to kiss her hand. She was pleasing to the eye, 
too, though perhaps not a true beauty. Her smile lit her eyes every time, and 
her figure was flawless.

Now that the ladies and most of the men had retired, Elladan had found an 
empty veranda, perfect to dream of a different life, one where he would woo 
the girl, where he would be eager to fill his hands and his mouth with her 
bosom and bury himself in her willing body, enjoying the wet warmth 
around him. Could he marry her, sleep with her every night? Lovingly hold 
the children she would bear him?

“The night is fine,” a familiar voice cut through Elladan’s thoughts, sending 
a shiver down his spine. He would have liked to credit it to mere 
apprehension, but he knew better, thus his mortification. Barely turning his 
head, he simply acknowledged Erestor with a grunt, hoping that his rudeness 
would be enough deterrence for his adversary for once.

“Care for a sip?” Erestor offered, holding out a bottle. “This bubbly wine of 
Imrahil’s has its charms for nights like these…”

Elladan shrugged off the offer and returned to his silent contemplation of the 
silver moon scattered on the waters before him, trying to return to thoughts 
of naked, feminine flesh under his hands.

“It is interesting that you should choose to look at the reflection and ignore 
the full globe, so close tonight we could almost reach for it…” Erestor 
insisted.

“You sound inebriated, Erestor,” Elladan replied sternly. “Do not disgrace 
yourself by making a habit of it.”

Erestor laughed softly. “Indeed, I make a terrible ambassador for the famed 
elven composure. But I am alive and the time to be proper and stifled has 
passed.”

He stepped closer, venturing a hand just below Elladan’s waist. “Do you 
really enjoy being chased this much?” he whispered, standing slightly apart. 
“Take mercy on us both and give in. Give me one night and I will desist 
after. We will bury this secret under that glittering sea and no one will know 
or care.”

“I will know,” Elladan cut, louder than caution advised. “And so will the 
Almighty Ilúvatar and Those who serve Him,” he added in a lower, tense 
voice.

Erestor slowly exhaled, relaxing against the veranda. “Perhaps you will find 
me repetitive, but I have no other way of saying it: these laws and costumes 
where you have been taking sanctuary were not written by the Shining Ones, 
and who put these desires in your heart was the Same who gave you a soul 
and a heart and a body to use in love or lust or both.” He lowered his head in 
defeat. “I will leave the door unlocked as usual, if by any chance you change 
your mind.”

Erestor left holding his chin high, keeping enough distance for Elladan to 
feel the absence of his body heat and regret it. Standing still, trying to 
control the turmoil inside, Elladan could not help but to consider the 
tempting offer: one time and he would be free of this torment… Erestor was 
not known for breaking promises. What harm could one time do, except 
bruise his pride for not being able to resist? Only Erestor would witness his 
downfall and Erestor would be in no position to relate it. 

Elladan realised his hands were shaking. He flew to the refuge of his room, 
so unfortunately close to Erestor’s, and locked the door behind him. He 
changed quickly and snuffed the candles the servants had left lit for him. He 
would not fall this night. 

He would not sleep either, he thought to himself with a bitter grimace an 
hour later, after turning in the bed yet again. It was too hot, the room, his 
thoughts… Giving up on sleep for that moment, he rose and walked to the 
window. He could see from his room that Erestor had also put out his light. 
Did he sleep like the innocent, or did he burn like him, in desire and doubt. 
No, Erestor had no doubts, only maddening answers, long dug knowledge 
on the origin of customs, little trivia destined to weaken his resolve and 
justify his baser impulses. A bird called out in the night reminding him 
precisely of one of Erestor’s claims, that male birds sometimes nested 
together… Elladan bit in a sob. Certainly he would lose his mind before this 
ended his death. To one question he would have an answer, though. 

He left his room, not bothering to put a robe over his nightshirt, and crossed 
the few yards that separated him from his fate. He knocked, waited for an 
instant, then decided to open the door – he had been invited, after all. 
Erestor sat on his bed, looking startled and deliciously dishevelled. He rose 
even as Elladan shut the door behind himself.

“I didn’t think you would come,” Erestor said, unusually vulnerable in his 
confusion and hope. 

Elladan tried to keep at bay the overwhelming wave of feeling but his voice 
quavered when he spoke. “You never told me why now. Why did you wait 
all these years to tell me you wanted me? Is it because I’ll soon be dead and 
no one will know?”

“No, no…” Erestor said, stopping in his motion toward Elladan. A deep 
frown replaced the fragile hope that had lit his face instants before. “No,” 
repeated more firmly. “Nothing of the sort.”

“Why then? Why can’t you just let me go peacefully?”

Erestor advanced steadily but slowly, as if approaching a skittish colt. As 
Elladan stepped back and seemed to shrink, he cooed softly.

“Shh, do not fear me, I mean no harm.” Before Elladan knew, he was 
enveloped in two surprisingly steely arms. A hand patted his head and for a 
moment he felt like a boy again as he allowed himself to lay his head on 
Erestor’s shoulder and accept this comfort.

“I can’t let you go,” Erestor whispered after a long time.

Elladan’s eyes prickled. “You will have to, eventually, even if I yield now. 
And you will have to face judgement when you finally sail west.”

“Those are bogeyman’s stories, I’ll wager any day. I am willing to take my 
chances and if I do stand on the Máhanaxar someday on this account, I will 
be in good company.”

Elladan straightened up and looked into Erestor’s eyes. “You still haven’t 
told me why.”

Brushing his knuckles against Elladan’s face in a sombre caress, Erestor 
simply replied, “I would rather show you.”

Elladan still hesitated on the long way to Erestor’s bed but his reserve was 
slowly melted with sweet whispers and delicate touches. He had expected 
something altogether different, after months of brash and sometimes even 
salacious courting, but now Erestor dripped honey onto him, filling him with 
a joy that was almost painful. He was a drowning man on his way to the 
bottom of the sea, but what a glorious voyage that was… 

Erestor seemed to know enough of the ways of the flesh, surely more than 
he. The faintest flicker of jealousy lit his heart but tender words and kisses 
extinguished it before it had any chance of growing. They sat side by side on 
the mattress, Elladan’s hands resting timidly on Erestor’s waist, daring 
nothing, while his former tutor grew bolder in his kissing, making him feel 
short of breath. He let himself be slowly pushed back into the bed, caressed, 
denuded. He wanted to reciprocate with more than a few diffident touches, 
to be more active in his only indulgence, but he felt tied. Erestor 
overwhelmed him in every possible sense.

A silver light seeping in from the window made them beautiful, ethereal, 
almost. Erestor’s lovemaking resembled an act of adoration stretching far 
into the night and deep into Elladan’s heart. This was what being loved felt 
like, he thought, as their eyes locked and Erestor quietly slipped from his 
side to kneel between his legs. Again, his lover surprised him. Elladan 
expected to be taken now, but Erestor simply continued kissing him, tasting 
his abdomen, the skin of his inner thigh, and then, wonderment, his phallus. 
Elladan shut his eyes, unable to endure Erestor’s piercing gaze or the sinful 
and yet so terribly erotic vision of his wet flesh disappearing into his lover’s 
mouth.

Knowing he could not last long, he tried to draw Erestor away with a gentle 
caress to his face, but he only swallowed him deeper, extracting a ragged 
sigh. Elladan let his head fall to the pillow and Erestor have his way.

His climax came shortly, devastating in its intensity. His lonely indulgences 
were nothing compared to this feeling of being hurled into the infinite sky to 
fuse with the searing stars.

Wiping his mouth clean with his wrist, Erestor lay by his side panting 
slightly. Elladan, floating in a sea of contentment, only felt a pair of loving 
arms wrap around him, turning the bed impossibly hot. He did not mind it, 
nor the sweat on his skin or the idea of sin. He realised now that by finally 
giving in to this twisted nature he had found the happiness he never thought 
he would meet. 

Feeling Erestor hard against his hip, he moved his hand to carefully explore 
his groin. Soon Erestor’s hand joined his, their fingers interwoven in want 
and need.

“You don’t have to,” Erestor panted, his body denying his words.

Elrohir delicately pushed him back, whispering, “I want to.” He wanted, 
more than anything in his life, to give Erestor even a fraction pleasure he 
had received. He felt slightly unsure of himself, but Erestor’s small gasps 
punctuating their harsh breathing served as encouragement. 

When Erestor came, his seed spilling half across Elladan’s cheek, it felt like 
an accomplishment, and at that moment, the most important in Elladan’s 
life. He laid his head across Erestor’s chest, listening to his breathing as it 
quieted, revelling in his newly-found bliss. 

Erestor lazily played with his hair, until his hand settled on Elladan’s 
shoulder. They lay so quietly that Elladan feared Erestor had fallen asleep.

“Erestor?”

Erestor sighed and moved his hand on Elladan’s hair in response. “I’m 
awake.”

Elladan moved up and kissed him briefly. Even half-asleep, Erestor returned 
the kiss, inundating it with affection, sated desire, love.

“How did you know?” Elladan asked, kissing his shoulder.

“Know what?”

“That I would be receptive… to the nature of my desires? Am I that 
obvious?”

“Not at all.”

“How then?”

Erestor sighed. “An unfortunate accident. A long time ago, when you were 
forty-three and still under my tutoring I forgot my cape in the lesson 
room…” Elladan moved his head surprised but held his peace. “You 
remember, I see,” Erestor continued. “Another would have closed the door 
loud enough to warn you, and no words on the matter would have been said 
ever. I, I stood there watching you as you pleasured yourself to my scent, 
burying an expression of shame and ecstasy into the wool. I cannot tell you 
what that did to me.”

“This is why you went to Lothlórien for so long, soon after?”

Elladan felt Erestor nodding in response.

“So long… I can hardly believe. You never said anything.”

“You were the son of my lord and best friend… And I did not live all this 
time obsessed with that memory, truth be told, though it often returned to 
haunt me.”

“And now?”

Erestor turned to lie on his side and face Elladan. “I want you to fall in love 
with me and give up this preposterous idea of tying your fate to Man-kind. I 
want you to sail west with me. But if I can’t have that, at least I will not let 
you fade into oblivion without keeping a sweet memory for myself. And 
besides, neither of us has anything left to lose.”

“My decision cannot be changed now, and even if the Valar held some 
special sympathy for my cause.”

“Then I would stay to the end by your side. But I would rather persuade you 
to sail and plead for your immortal life.”

“I would not shame my father and brother.”

“Do you think, perchance, that your father knows nothing of my own heart? 
And yet he has given me nothing but friendship and honours all these years, 
entrusting me even with the education of his children.”

“But I am his son, his seed… and my brother; would he not be shamed 
before his bride and her family? My demise, and that of my sins, is 
necessary and useful.”

“Speak not such words!” Erestor sat up looking sternly at Elladan. “For long 
I have suspected that this might be one of your reasons, if not the main, to 
choose death instead of life. Your brother and your father would rather have 
you whole by their side than lost forever for such a futile motive. And your 
mother would die of grief. Have mercy on those who love you, Elladan.”

“I do.” Elladan sat up, drawing Erestor closer. “Before you spoke no words 
of love, only lust…” he asked, “and even now you speak of the love of 
others, not your own. Do you do this out of pity?”

Erestor lowered his head. “I thought I had shown you the love I feel,” he 
said, defeated. “I do not speak these words lightly, but yes, I do love you. 
Useless as that might be.”

Turning away from Elladan’s embrace, he rose from the bed and slipped 
into his trousers. “I didn’t expect you to change your mind too quickly but I 
confess that it cuts to hear you speaking so lightly. And yes, I chased you in 
the guise of lust, because I thought it would be less intimidating, easier for 
you.”

Erestor sat in the ledge of the window, looking out to the sea. “This is the 
first time that I felt completely hopeless regarding your choice… If Manwë 
himself called for you, you wouldn’t go, would you?”

“So you think I’m a stubborn fool, do you?” Elladan asked from the bed. 

Erestor turned his gaze from the night outside to Elladan’s stricken face. “I 
think you will break my heart. But I am willing to let you.”

~~~~~~

Long seasons passed from that night. Elladan quit his worries about his 
unhallowed nature and found solace and love in Erestor’s life. Erestor quit 
his words of persuasion, feeling them hopeless and useless. They lived for 
long alone in Imladris, first fighting its decay, then accepting it as gracefully 
as they could, seeing it as a herald for another death that would come too 
soon.

Elrohir had long sailed, Celeborn had left for Amon Lanc, Legolas rarely 
visited, and no other souls came, except for the occasional messenger from 
Minas Tirith, with letters bearing the seals of Arwen, Aragorn or their 
children. The days were tranquil, but sadness grew on them as the 
inexorable end came closer. 

Upon receiving word from Arwen, Elladan rode south to his foster brother’s 
funerary rites, regretting that he had not seen him one last time. Erestor 
followed, darkness shrouding his heart. That bright Summer when he had 
briefly believed he could change Elladan’s heart seemed so close and yet a 
lifetime away. He could not regret the few good years they had shared, not 
now nor later.

Arwen asked but one thing of Elladan, that he ride behind her to Lórien. For 
days Elladan and Erestor followed, taking discreet care of her, ensuring her 
safety. They crossed Gondor, then Rohan, not stopping at Edoras. Arwen’s 
grief imposed respect even to those who wished to pry on the elvish Queen 
of Gondor and Arnor.

Elladan and Erestor followed her deep into the Golden Woods, until she 
reached Cerin Amroth. She dismounted and sweetly patted her mount, 
setting him free with words of farewell. She sat on the grass, reclining 
against a tree, waiting for Elladan and Erestor to come closer.

“I will leave my life here,” she announced, as they knelt by her side. She 
took Erestor’s face in her hands and kissed him lightly on the lips. “I thank 
you for everything you ever did for me and for mine, my second father… 
my brother.”

Erestor shut his eyes and nodded in understanding. “It was my honour and 
pleasure to be part of your blessed life, my dear lady.”

She smiled sadly. “I would now speak to my brother, dear friend.”

Erestor nodded again and left her alone with Elladan.

“Estel, he chose his hour,” she started, “a privilege few have these days. 
Before he went, in his last words to me he offered me something…” she 
sighed deeply as if death weighed on her chest already. “He spoke of sailing 
west and retrieving my immortal life, but we both know that I am well 
beyond that choice. I belong with him well beyond this life, and the days 
that I have to wait to join him are nothing but a burden to me.”

“Arwen,” Elladan said, choked.

“Let me finish. My choice was made and sealed with love. Yours was made 
with guilt and that is such a feeble bind...”

Elladan backed away shocked.

“I know more than you think, brother, and now I break a promise I made to 
our father to never speak of these things, but I do it with a pure heart.”

“Father…” Elladan said incredulously.

“Father knows more than you think, but like our elven race, he is not one to 
act openly or readily. He thinks that your wish for privacy should be 
respected at all costs. But I, I learned with men that a well-placed word can 
speak louder than a thousand subtle gestures. He told me before leaving that 
he still hoped you would sail. And I tell you now, that I want you to sail. 
Honour my choice by making yours a truthful one. You want life in the 
circles of this world, by his side.” Arwen cast a glance at Erestor who stood 
at the edge of the clearing tending to their horses.

“You are not disgusted?” Elladan asked, stupefied.

“I confess that I shocked when I first realised, but no, never disgusted. You 
are my flesh and blood and I love you dearly and always will.”

Elladan took her hand in his and kissed it. “Oh Arwen, how I will miss you. 
I wish that we would have-”

“Wish not for idle things, my brother,” she pleaded, “but change those you 
can. Life is not a punishment you have to endure. This is my final wish, the 
only thing that I have asked you in a very long time. Live. Be happy. 
Honour your heart and tell our mother that I love her and that my children 
know her name, and that I will wait in my husband’s arms for the Dagor 
Dagorath, but that I will see you all again, even if once. Goodbye now.” She 
closed her eyes and rested her head against the golden bark.

With a last squeeze to her hand, Elladan stepped away, granting her peace 
and isolation. He walked toward Erestor and the horses, trying to chose his 
words. All he could say when he reached his lover was, “We ride to the 
Havens after she…” a sob cut his words, but Erestor was there, holding him, 
sobbing too in relief and hope, and in grief for all that was lost forever.

“We sail,” he said, holding on to Elladan. “We sail.”

Finis
February 2007


Notes

* “One of these days you’re going to reap just what you sow.” Taken from 
the lyrics of “Perfect Day” by Lou Reed.

* “Life is not (and should not be) a punishment you have to endure.” Taken 
from “Mudar de Vida” by António Variações.