A/N – Trying my hand at Elros this time.

Disclaimer – I don't own Elros, the Silmarillion, or anything else of the Professor's. Don't sue.

A New Hope

In this new land of theirs, this Numenor, the Edain have little time for looking back. Their days are spent in backbreaking work, carving their first settlement out of untouched wilderness. With their hearts filled with hope, they dream of a glorious future; they left grief and despair behind long ago, and they are wholly committed to their new course.

Unlike the Elves, they are not preoccupied with endless reflection on the past.

Sometimes, in the evenings when the fires have died down, the Edain – fatigued after their long labours – call for music and tales. Elros has not his foster-father's extraordinary gift, to weave chords of gold and silver into imagery so pure it is almost tangible, but his own modest talent is enough. With his old, mellow lap-harp, the only thing he kept of Maglor's giving, he gives them ancient tales of courage and daring, and songs of great love and tragedy. He makes them laugh, he makes them weep; he uplifts their hearts and fills them with hope and joy. As time passes, he creates new songs for his chosen people and their new world.

The one song he will not sing is the Noldolante.