Summary: A sequel to Gil-Estel. Eärendil watches the events of the War of the Ring, and the events after it. Some of them touch him more deeply then if would seem, and at the end - what is the hope of the Star of High Hope?

Disclaimer: No rights, no money, no profit. Just the good feeling of writing a story about my favourite characters...

Rating: K+

Beta: Cairistiona

A/N: Unlike Gil-Estel, this is not a "real-time story". Actually, the chapters can be considered as stand-alones... You don't have to read Gil-Estel first, but you may understand some of Eärendil's thoughts better if you have.

1. The burden of leadership

January 15th, 3019 T. A.

They were nine. Nine entered the gate leading under the mountain. Only eight came out... I have been watching them for many nights. A strange group – two Men, an Elf, a Dwarf, one of the Istari even, and four from the strange little folk that came to dwell in Eriador.

Only eight came out... the ninth will not come. I see it in their faces: Olórin will not come out of the mines of Moria. The Maia... oh no! No... merciful Valar! I felt it – the heavy silence that veiled the whole of Valinor. They were five, the Istari, the only way the Valar could help the Children of Ilúvatar on these shores after Valinor had been taken from the circles of the world. Now two are lost. One has a different task – not with the children of Ilúvatar, but with Yavanna's children in these dark times. One betrayed... and the last one... The last one has fallen today. I felt the sadness of Valinor, the quiet mourning in the wind in the branches of dead Trees. Now the Children stand alone against the shadow of Mordor, and nobody is left to show the way...

I mourn with the Valar – and I mourn for them, because I know the fate of a helpless watcher. My light burns still, but the Flame of Anor sent by Valar was extinguished, and the whispers in the air are telling about the Flame of Udûn. When I set my sail today, it was almost as if I could feel their voiceless blessings. "Shine," they were saying, "shine for the distant shores. Show them in your light that we care. Show them our love and the love of Ilúvatar..."

And so I shine – the Star of Hope. That is my purpose that I accepted when I set my sail with the intention to reach the far West, for all the Ages to come, through all assaults of darkness to come. I didn't know then how many there would yet be, and how terrible. Through the ages I could only watch – and I despaired. But then came a man from my own line, who found hope in my light. And in his hope, I found my own again. Hope was his name – Estel.

Today I sail and shine for the whole Middle-earth, a messenger from the Valar saying that they didn't abandon the Children of Ilúvatar in their darkest hour. My light can't fight the dark things under Moria, it can't shorten the road under the feet of those who have the need for speed this night. It can do only that for which the Istari were sent: show the way, that you have to walk alone, and give hope – estel...

Estel... I want to shine for you, because I know... they mourn for Olórin, the Valar, and for their helplessness. But you, you mourn for a dear friend. I have seen the friendship of a Ranger and a Wizard through the years, the journeys that you have taken together, the quarrels and reconciliations. I will never forget the expression in the Maia's face when he came to Mirkwood in all haste. It was after you arrived with the creature, Gollum, there - on the very border of your strength. I watched you on that arduous journey, and my heart bled for you. Never before have I seen a journey so hard, a will so strong. On the last bits of your strength you reached the halls of the Wood Elves' kingdom.

"My dear Aragorn, how are you?" he asked when he arrived, and his eyes spoke about all his worries and regret for not accompanying you on that journey, and of his love. He did not wait for your answer – it was too evident in your sunken cheeks and dark circles under your eyes, although it was already a week since you arrived. He embraced you, and then he wouldn't stop his chiding for a few hours. It was good that someone did, because in that moment I would embrace you and chide you myself, if I could, and then embrace you again and personally bind you to bed with several plates of food. Sometimes he seemed like an old moody man, didn't he? But you knew him. You knew all his faces: Gandalf, Mithrandir, and, most deeply beneath the surface, Olórin.

I watched you now, on this last journey. Sometimes you sat with Gandalf at the fire after everyone else has fallen asleep. You spoke about things both common and serious or just sat quietly in a companionate silence. Now that friend is no more...

I'm watching you now – running at the head of the Fellowship – leading them. They do not see your face... but I do. There are no tears in your eyes, and your face is pale and like carven stone. Only your eyes speak about the depth of your grief. You run first now – for the first time since the Fellowship left Rivendell. Until now, Gandalf was the leader, and you... you walked most often at the end, helping those who faltered and grew weary of the pace of the hard traveling. Now you walk first, alone with your grief – the leader. A leader is always alone... It's a heavy burden and hard decisions that await you, like my own decision to sail to the West.

I wish I could tell you that you are not alone. I am here, and all who love you are with you in their mind. Elrond, your father, stands at the window in Rivendell in this moment, and looks to the South-East. His daughter is sitting in the light of many candles in her room, and doing embroidery. It is a big piece of silken cloth she has in her hands, and black like the night sky is its color. The light of the candles is reflected on the gems that she is weaving into the cloth, placed around a magnificent white tree and a winged crown like seven stars. I wish I could tell you about the Rangers in the North, sitting around a fire in this moment. "I would gladly give my life to be at his side when he needs me..." one of them is saying. Halbarad is his name...

But you are not looking to the sky. Forward is your look directed, and a grim expression of responsibility is in your eyes. The sky darkens and the orcs are coming out of the gates of Moria. You must lead the others to safety, they rely on you, and you will not disappoint them...