He waited, and watched. He'd become all too good at it; watching while events swirled below him.

But today was different. Today he would greet his son.

But first, he had to wait. He waited while the ship came into the harbor. Watched while the lines were secured. Waited while the passengers unloaded. Watched as his son greeted his wife, black and silver hair flying together.

Then, finally, the wait was over. He stepped forward, hesitantly. His son looked up. He smiled, and stepped into his father's embrace.

"My son," the Mariner whispered.

"Ada," Elrond replied.

Eärendil tightened his arms.