𝗟𝘂́𝗺𝗲̈,𝗜𝗻𝗱𝘂𝗶𝗻𝗲𝗻 𝗮𝗿 𝗔𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗼 | LOTR & Marvel Crossover [PART3]✓

31 | Cracking the Code

31 | Cracking the Code

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Elrond Peredhel | The Lord of Rivendell

Location: Mithlond, Lindon, Middle Earth

Time: April 2981 T.A

The last time he saw Lindon like this was when darkness befell this world thousands of years ago.

It was on the eve of the fall, where even at this distance, the elven eyes could see the tempestuous seas grow bolder and grander. The skies would darken, clouds shrouding the stars above as there was nothing more but the bleeding sun setting across the horizon. And when the sun went over, what could only be heard were the seagulls squawking as the winds bristled against the falling leaves and the tides washing outwards.

Elrond was visiting from Imladris when Númenor fell, and all he could be hope that those faithful to once Eru Ilúvatar would survive. Kin of and descendants of his late brother and those he knew were kind to his wife during her capture.

Quite poetic it was, instead of watching those abandoning the shore of one's home: he was watching the Eldar leave their home for the battlefield. Standing in the very spot overlooking Mithlond upon Cirdan's home, it felt to him as if Fate decided for him to always be here. To always remember every time he watched those he loved to go to where there was always a chance of danger.

There was a moment in the blistering wind, staring up at the sky with an ache in his chest. Gil-Estel was once again another reminder of the beginning.

The beginning of the oncoming storm.

He heaved in a breath, letting his hand fidget once more on the hold of Vilya until he heard a voice.

When he glanced over his shoulder, Elrond was slightly astonished by what his friend wore. Albeit similar to what the Noldor once wore during the Second Age, he recognized evidently the differences...or more likely improvements of the design. The stockiness was now reduced, with parts of the armour refined for flexibility. Elven motifs adorned the breastplate and bracers but overall were much simpler than those they once created.

Elrond could not help but lighten, smiling graciously as Gil-Galad returned with a slight smirk.

Then his eyes caught what was on his hand.

Revived upon his hand was Aeglos.

He could only assume that Círdan returned it to him, seeing that he would be the first of many eager to take upon against their great enemy of the East. Though from the many people, that he knew fitted that agenda, it would be a rather long and tedious list to write.

As he arrived at Elrond's side, the two shared a knowing look with each other before they watched the rest of the quendi beginning to prepare their departure in the coming hour. Seeing those they recalled farewell upon the coming battles ahead. Elves sharing their possible last goodbye.

The gradual realization to everyone (and himself in honesty) that perhaps they may never truly see each other again.

It was why so few agreed, even when they had done all they could to persuade those to aid the rest of Middle Earth. Some of the Noldor who had never experienced the land before them or those who did not fight were among those who stayed. As for the Sindarin and Silvan, almost all agreed to take up arms alongside Mereneth and Oropher.

"In my re-embodiment, I had not imagined myself taking up arms once more."

Elrond turned, looking up as Gil-Galad spoke.