A Little Hope
Imladris
Summer storms had swollen the Ford of Bruinen and the soft, velvety air carried the scent of the thousands of roses that bloomed in the gardens of Imaldis. The rains had ended just before dusk Lord Elrond walked in his gardens, oblivious to the damp rose petals that clung to his jewel-toned robes and long black hair. He was not contemplating the white roses glowing in the sliver-blue light of the most serene hour of the day. He was consumed with thoughts of what had taken place that day.
The end was near. He had known this but to see the instrument of that end delivered to his doorstep was still a shock. Yes, he knew that this was as it must be but he had seen visions in the summer breezes that told him of great losses to come. He knew that these were mirages of what might come to pass and not unavoidable. In the meantime, there was simply a distraught woman and a small, confused child who needed healing and sanctuary. His desire and duty was to provide that, no matter what it might cost him in the end.
"My Lord," asked a concerned voice, "are you all right."
Elrond turned. It was Erestor.
"Yes, Erestor," he replied wearily, "I am well. How are Gilraen and the child?"
Erestor nodded and said, "They have been settled into their rooms, Lord Elrond. Gilraen was exhausted from the journey and grief for her husband. She is already asleep. I came because the child will not stop crying. I did not want to wake the lady, she needs her sleep, but neither the maidservants nor I could soothe the little one."
"I will see what can be done," said Elrond, "it has been quite long since I have tended one so young. Celebrian once told me that I had a better way with the children than she did."
Elrond strode purposefully to the child's room, where he found no less than four of his people attempting to quiet and soothe this small stranger. All elves had a reverence for children and he was not surprised that so many were attending the child. This reverence was especially strong in Elrond and the sight of the red, tear-streaked little face stirred all his instincts as a healer and a father.
With hiccupping sobs, the toddler insisted, "I want my mama!"
Elrond knelt down, looked the child in the eyes, and said, "She is sleeping, little one. She will be with you in the morning."
This did not assuage the little boy who demanded, "I want my Da!"
"Oh, child," said Elrond, "he would be with you if he could. He will be waiting for you beyond the stars. Would you like to see the stars?"
The child looked at the elf lord with solemn eyes and nodded his assent. He took the little boy out to the gardens and told him the story of how Varda kindled the stars. It was not long before he carried the child back to his bed, fast asleep in his arms.
He looked at the small one sleeping with his thumb in his mouth and thought how he had seen this child become a king who would be the hope of the west and of all men. He had seen no hope for his people, though. He had seen that he would lose his daughter to mortality as he had lost his brother, Elros. Still, her descendants would carry his bloodline though the ages, however diluted with mortal blood. There was some hope in that. It was little hope, as small as this child. It would have to be enough. It also occurred to him that this child should bear and elvish name, if he was to unite the bloodlines of man and elf.
Elrond smiled softly at the child and whispered, "Goodnight, little Estel."
Summer storms had swollen the Ford of Bruinen and the soft, velvety air carried the scent of the thousands of roses that bloomed in the gardens of Imaldis. The rains had ended just before dusk Lord Elrond walked in his gardens, oblivious to the damp rose petals that clung to his jewel-toned robes and long black hair. He was not contemplating the white roses glowing in the sliver-blue light of the most serene hour of the day. He was consumed with thoughts of what had taken place that day.
The end was near. He had known this but to see the instrument of that end delivered to his doorstep was still a shock. Yes, he knew that this was as it must be but he had seen visions in the summer breezes that told him of great losses to come. He knew that these were mirages of what might come to pass and not unavoidable. In the meantime, there was simply a distraught woman and a small, confused child who needed healing and sanctuary. His desire and duty was to provide that, no matter what it might cost him in the end.
"My Lord," asked a concerned voice, "are you all right."
Elrond turned. It was Erestor.
"Yes, Erestor," he replied wearily, "I am well. How are Gilraen and the child?"
Erestor nodded and said, "They have been settled into their rooms, Lord Elrond. Gilraen was exhausted from the journey and grief for her husband. She is already asleep. I came because the child will not stop crying. I did not want to wake the lady, she needs her sleep, but neither the maidservants nor I could soothe the little one."
"I will see what can be done," said Elrond, "it has been quite long since I have tended one so young. Celebrian once told me that I had a better way with the children than she did."
Elrond strode purposefully to the child's room, where he found no less than four of his people attempting to quiet and soothe this small stranger. All elves had a reverence for children and he was not surprised that so many were attending the child. This reverence was especially strong in Elrond and the sight of the red, tear-streaked little face stirred all his instincts as a healer and a father.
With hiccupping sobs, the toddler insisted, "I want my mama!"
Elrond knelt down, looked the child in the eyes, and said, "She is sleeping, little one. She will be with you in the morning."
This did not assuage the little boy who demanded, "I want my Da!"
"Oh, child," said Elrond, "he would be with you if he could. He will be waiting for you beyond the stars. Would you like to see the stars?"
The child looked at the elf lord with solemn eyes and nodded his assent. He took the little boy out to the gardens and told him the story of how Varda kindled the stars. It was not long before he carried the child back to his bed, fast asleep in his arms.
He looked at the small one sleeping with his thumb in his mouth and thought how he had seen this child become a king who would be the hope of the west and of all men. He had seen no hope for his people, though. He had seen that he would lose his daughter to mortality as he had lost his brother, Elros. Still, her descendants would carry his bloodline though the ages, however diluted with mortal blood. There was some hope in that. It was little hope, as small as this child. It would have to be enough. It also occurred to him that this child should bear and elvish name, if he was to unite the bloodlines of man and elf.
Elrond smiled softly at the child and whispered, "Goodnight, little Estel."