Title: Yours to Hold

Author: Raina

Summary: An elleth of Rivendell watches over Elrohir from afar, but she is just another face in the crowd to him; however one of these days, he will see that through all of his hardest and darkest hours, she was his to hold.

Disclaimer: Not my stage, I just write performances for it from time to time.

A/N: This was written as a surprise gift for a dear friend, Tira Archer; I wrote it for her birthday earlier this month, and only just now had a chance to sit down and write it, as I was busy finishing up some stuff for some challenges. This took me a little less then half an hour to write, and I tried to make it make sense without the lyrics, but if you would like to read that version, drop me a line and let me know.

This is a song-fic of sorts to the song Yours To Hold by Skillet.


I stand here and watch quietly as you walk past me, your look suggests that you are not fully here at this moment. So much of me wants to reach out and touch you, let you know that you don't have to go through the loss of your mother alone. I starve for your attention, but you do not know who I am, what my name is, or of what house I belong. To you, I am just another by-stander; another person in a valley of elves. One more face in the crowd.

I can see that you are going through so many things, but I know that, if given the chance, I could be the one that holds you.

As the days pass, and more and more you are farther away, I find it ever so difficult to say that I could be yours alone. I know that one day, you will see the affection I have for you, and someday you will see that along the way I was yours to hold. Truly yours to hold.

Once more another day has come that I see you. I see you walking by me, your hair hides your face as you stumble up the path to the Last Homely House. It is obvious you have sustained an injury from the orcs you seek revenge upon, and when you stumble I make a bold move and step out from the shadows to steady you.

"Le hannon," I hear your voice, husky and hoarse from pain and laced with fatigue. You never once look at me as you continue on your way, gripping your mount for support as you stagger beside it on your way home.

"Gell nîn." I mutter quietly, wishing you had at least glanced at me. I turn to go and wonder why you have been hurting - though I know of the loss of your mother. This cannot be all of your pain, can it? Surely not. There has to be something else keeping you incomplete, something else keeping a hole inside of you. I desire to fill that hole, but I do not mean anything to you at this time.

I wish I had some way to tell you of how I feel, someway to tell you that I am yours. Manen pelithon le peded i le melon?

You are going through so much, Elrohir. You don't know, but I will be the one to hold you.

It gets harder with each passing day to find a way to tell you, for every day you grow more and more detached from your family, your home. I hope sometime in the future, you will see that all along this hard way, I was yours to hold.

I stretch for your attention, but you are just out of reach. Too far gone from this place, at this time, for me to reach you. I want you to know, I am ready when you are ready for me. And I am just waiting for the right time, for the very day I catch your eye. To let you know, that I am yours to hold.

Every single day, and I continue to find it hard to tell you. I know, I could be yours alone. One of these days, you will look and notice me, and see that through all of this difficult journey, I was the one for you to hold.

I am stretching, Elrohir, but you are beyond my reach. When you are prepared for me, I am ready. Cín ni a eriol cín, an-uir.

I Veth

A/N: I do not claim to have great Elvish knowledge, and have asked around and used, from what other great authors have told me, a great site for useful Elven phrases and things If there are imperfections in the Elvish and the tranlsations, the fault is my own.

Translations:

Manen pelithon le peded i le melon? How will I be able to tell you I love you?

Le hannon I thank you.

Gell nîn It was my pleasure (literally: my joy)

Lín ni a eriol lín, an-uir I am yours and yours alone, for eternity