This is my first LOTR fanfic.

I read the books before buying the films and after watching them this idea popped into my head. It will be a multi-chapter story but not entirely sure where it is going to end up as of yet. A mixture of movie world and book world.

Massive thank you to the website Merin Essi ar Quniteli and its founder dreamingfifi who has put up with my (probably bizarre looking) questions and translation requests. All elvish has either been gained from the phrase books on the site or those requests. Le hannon o guren.

The three Shire hobbits had left and everyone else was on the ship, somehow he'd ended up last in line. Yet the Elf-lord hesitated.

Suddenly a tingling came over his body, the present faded away into foresight;

Him standing in the great hall of Minas Anor, or as they now called it; Minas Tirith, with Arwen and Aragorn watching from their thrones on the dais. And then, tottering, came the boy Arwen had seen when she turned back from the Grey Havens. He was younger than in that vision, perhaps three, but clearly the same person. The child opened his mouth...

Cirdan touched his arm, jolting him out to the present "We must leave now" the shipwright's eyes were gentle "Tides are favourable and when they change the journey will only grow longer"

The half-elf shook his head and gestured, suddenly certain about what he must do "Their journey, but not mine... not yet" He looked up at the ship, scanning the deck for a trustworthy face... there. "Haldir" he called the name, the elf turned and looked down "I beg one more favour of you; take this ring into your keeping and see that my wife Celebrían is given it" in one swift move he freed the final one of the Elven Three from his finger and tossed it up onto the deck.

"But you're coming with us?" Galadriel's voice was clear through the cloaking mist.

"Nay, lady" he turned and strode back to his horse, leaping on. "For now at least I go to Minas Anor, there is still a life for me to make there" he wheeled the mare in a full circle and let her dance under him. He raised his voice as he had when a leader in the war "Navaer, Galu, No bain i sŷl lîn"

Even as the words fell from his lips the ship was vanishing out of sight. With a final raise of his hand Elrond turned his horse onto the road he had ridden just this morning. Bending low he spoke to the horse "Now Suldal shall we show those mearas a thing or two about fast riding?" He sat up and let her long striding canter eat up the road.

The rain was doing its best to drown travellers when Elrond finally pulled the mare up in the shelter of trees, thanks to good roads he'd already covered many miles, but a wish to stay away from anywhere connected to the fellowship had forced him to forsake the chance of spending a night in an inn. Instead of riding over the Baranduin Bridge and on to Bree he'd taken the road to Sarn Ford.

Loosening the straps of Suldal's tack he pulled out a bundle from his pocket and unwrapped it.

What on earth possessed me to pack a bag of lembas for the journey to Valinor I do not know, but I am grateful. The thought ran through his head and as he laughed aloud at his own confusion, his mare raised her head, shook it once and began to graze again.

"Oh Suldal, mellon nin, I wish that I had the horse sense you posses"

Finishing the wafer he stretched out on his cloak, rolled the edges around him and dropped into the light sleep so common of Elves who had fought in armies at some point of their long lives.

It was only when he woke that Elrond realised quite how far the mare had brought him. On an ordinary horse it would have taken perhaps a week to get here, yet they'd left Grey Havens only 3 days ago.

Still a long way to ride yet before all is said and gone stated a more sensible section of his mind, while the rest startled at the achievement. He retightened the tack and vaulted on again, Suldal setting off on the road without a word.

As they traversed the empty land between the ford and abandoned city of Tharbad Elrond had time to muse on his decisions. The more he thought about it the more foolish he felt, thrice ways foolish. Once; for abandoning Celebrían on the basis of a flash of foresight, which might not actually come true, Secondly; attempting to prevent Arwen from following her heart once she'd seen the child in his first vision, and thirdly: for being a hypocrite and doing exactly what she'd done, turning back from the Grey Havens into Arda. Yet somehow he knew that what he'd chosen to do was the right thing, and such certainty had not come for many decades.

Before he knew it the dark forbidding shadows of Tharbad were looming over him. The Elf-lord felt a tiny shiver run down his spine but ignored it. Pe-channas! If you had paid attention you would have seen the ruins on the horizon hours ago, even a man or hobbit would have spotted them

For some reason insulting himself made Elrond feel better, he sat up to his full height, lifting the hand that held Suldal's reins slightly clear of the pommel while letting the other idly rest on his sword hilt. Tharbad had too many nasty stories told about it for even the bravest of thieves to stand living there. But it would do no harm just to let any watching eyes know they were dealing with a warrior.

Looking around at the ruins he found it hard to realise that he had known, albeit distantly, this city at its height. Now it was a ruin, and no living man had anything but the faintest of fireside tales to remember it by. How different the lives of the Edain and Eldar truly were...

Suldal snorted, deliberately stumbling, jerking her rider so he lurched sharply sideways. With muttered curses unfit for his rank Elrond pulled himself straight and kicked her into canter. That wretched mare was far too smart, though it was probably his fault for breeding his previous mount with a meara stallion and keeping the foal for a replacement. It seemed a good idea at the time. Now? He didn't quite know what to think. Suldal was a good horse in her way and those wits would have come in useful with a war horse when he was younger... He quickly woke up to avoid being shaken off her back once more.

No, stated the sensible part of his brain It was not a good idea

Translations

Navaer = Farewell

Galu = Good luck

No bain i sŷl lîn = May your winds be fair

mellon nin= My Friend

Pe-channas= Idiot

Reviews would be lovely, I need to know if this looks to be a good idea