Disclaimer: Tolkien Estate, and New Line, the heirs to that estate, own all things Tolkien. I'm owned by an Arabian gelding and two cats. This is an odd ditty, born during the boredom of work, typed up at lunch. Please feel free to comment, I always welcome help!



He had never needed much sleep, even as a child. There was simply too much to see and do, too much always going on around him to watch and absorb.

He might miss something by sleeping.

Elros had always been more easy-going. The twin who would willingly crawl into bed, not to sleep, but to stare silently at the stars.

Twins, yes, but never identical. Close, but so very different, especially once out of childhood, when their personalities had settled.

Elrond never doubted his choice, not even for a moment. Of course he would embrace the immortal life of his mother's people! Only then could he have all of eternity to study and learn, explore, discover the hidden complexities of language and the races gracing Arda.

Only then could he discover the depth and reach of his healing.

And the Valar had rewarded him for his inquisitive, seeking nature, granting him great wisdom, even for those named Wise.

None of it a help as Elros lay dying. Old. Withered.


Helpless to do a thing, regardless of his wisdom, learning, and immortality. No healer, Elven or Human, could stop death once Mandos called. Elrond could only hold his twin to his chest, cradling him as they had held one another as children. Clung to him and felt Elros slip away, fëa freed of its fleshly confines.

To go to Mandos for a time and then…where? Elrond, for all his vaunted wisdom, all his knowledge, could not say.

Would they meet again, his twin and he? In the darkness of despair, he had not believed they would, ever could.

Eternal life had stretched long and bleak before him. Elros was gone, beyond his reach. Twin tie severed now not only by choice, but by death. Cut apart from the one whose heart had beat since the beginning of awareness. The one who had been with him when their parents left them, when their home was destroyed. The one who had always been with him, dark grey eyes full of laughter and the joy of living….


Elrond had grieved, long and hard, earning deep lines on his face few of his fair race ever gained. He had borne them with pride, a constant reminder of the human blood in his veins. Of his brother.

Gil-galad had been a source of strength. The Noldor High King had no lack of duties for Elrond, delegating increasingly larger and more difficult problems, and Elrond immersed himself in them. Lost in the complexities of Court and Kingdom, quietly advising Gil-galad. Always alert, watching, but content to have the attention fall on the king.

Much of his time was devoted to increasing his knowledge of healing, pushing to discover the limits of his gift. Others came to him then, some with brilliant but untrained talent, others with no strong gift, but the desire to help. He had added mentor to the titles increasingly added to his name. Teaching, helping others realize their potential, brought a joy and satisfaction he had not anticipated.

He was not an easy instructor, setting standards high and higher still, expecting those he accepted as students not only to achieve those goals, but exceed them. He was patient, but accepted nothing less than full dedication, always challenging them to surpass him.

In the teaching he also learned, and found a small measure of healing for himself. No longer feeling so alone as he had the first solitary years after Elros had chosen and been granted a kingdom of his own. It was hard to be lonely when there were others, gifted as he was, who sensed the sadness and emptiness when he stood gazing out to sea. They understood, and many had lost families as well.

Slowly a small group of friends, some students, some members of Court, began to fill the empty spaces in his life. He no longer spent all of his time in duty to king, court and students, or hunched over parchments by the light of candles, transcribing ancient texts before they crumbled away. Oh, he still did those things, but now he took time to savor life, to enjoy.

To live as he had not for a very long time. Eyes open to possibilities, he saw he had friends who supported him, believed in him. They looked to him, not just for advice, or to gain the ear of the King's Herald, but because they trusted him. Worried for him. They noticed the dark circles under his eyes and pulled him away for a meal and relaxation. They understood the long silences at certain times of the seasons when he stared out to sea, and kept silent vigil with him. These few alone understood those times were not attempts to distance himself, or holding himself aloof from court, but times he simply had no words for the melancholy.

Instead of judging, they simply offered comfort and company, or solitude if that was his desire, without holding it against him.

They understood, had their own stories of loss and love. Their own days of silent remembrance.

Slowly, as time proved them the most loyal of friends, they became more. A family of sorts. Some of the lines on his face eased, replaced by contentment. Love. Friendship.

The circle widened with the arrival of Glorfindel, an unforeseen, unlooked for and utterly unsought…ally? Friend? More. Elrond once again had a brother, not of blood, but friendship that tied them as deeply as kin. The staunchest, most loyal ally he could ask for, and one who fiercely guarded him and everything he worked for.

Far, far more than he had though to ever have again when Elros died. The thought came to him to wonder if Elros had sought out Mandos, somehow pleading, convincing the Valar to send someone to take his place at his twin's side. To be light to his darkness, as if somehow knowing his life and road would not be easy.

Elrond could only speculate. Glorfindel himself was silent on the matter, only smiling, eyes full of wisdom and secrets he would never reveal.

In time, Elrond had founded Imladris and created in it a haven for his people, and for any in need. Not just Elves, though it certainly was an Elven haven, but also a sanctuary for those hurt. A place of healing. A safe home to bring families, raise children.

To live.

As Elros would want. It would please his twin to see his descendants walking the pathways and open corridors of Imladris, finding a measure of safety and peace with his brother.

Elrond had pressed onward, beyond merely being a victim of wars that sunk an entire land, to being a guardian of his people…and of Mankind's best hope for a future.

These nights, if sleep eluded him it was not from loneliness, or the ache of a missing twin. Nor was it from the worries and duties brought to him by a king.

They were larger; the worries of a world, of all beings who sensed a darkness seeking to end their freedom.

Twin, parents long gone, Elrond never faced the future alone.

"Still awake and working, Peredhil?" A hand fell lightly on his shoulder, squeezing, before Glorfindel gracefully dropped into a chair facing him.

"No really, old friend." Elrond smiled, grey eyes peaceful. "Just…reminiscing."

Elros would be pleased.