300 Prompts About Lord Elrond

7: You are the Wind's Interpreter. What is it Saying?

        This morn Elrond was far away from Mithlond in a land that only he knew. With his back against the old oak tree in the garden he sat in a day dream. Dreaming of a city far away that no one knew of yet other then himself. Where water fell from the sky at all times, where the cliff was different every day, where the mountains closed in. This city is always in my dreams.

        The master shifted a little and opened his eyes. The wind whistled past him with one great gust, blowing leaves over the small pond to his right. He watched them dance on the surface of the water in tune with the shrill whistle of the wind. Like everything in the world is interlinked. He leaned back onto the tree once more but this time kept his eyes open to the world around him.

        Is the wind speaking? The wind passed him once more, causing the braids in his hair to sway with the movement. Cirdan says the ocean can speak, why not the wind? He listened to the air, keeping silent in his mind as well as out loud. Yet there were no more gust of wind to hear. I suppose it is a question for another day.

        Elrond closed his eyes again and drifted back into the city of his dream. White stone with large arched pathways that lead from one building to another. There were running rivers and grassy cliff sides. Paths made from stone that run from the wasteland above to the paradise below. He could see a tower, a round chamber with many chairs around a pedestal, and waterfalls. The little rivers ran through and around some of the outer chambers. Is this Valinor?

        No. Something inside of him told him that this place was a mirage, nothing more. Something that he desired, but something that was far from existing. Elrond sighed sadly and looked back to the pond. The water and the leaves were still. They do not dance when there is no music. He looked down to the book in his lap. I should go back. Coming gracfulfly back on his feet he put the pond behind  him as he walked back to the city. 

        Before he went back inside the building the wind stirred up again. It blew the leaves over the pond again, causing a skittering sound as they were sent across the stones on the ground. The wind whistled in his ears but this time it was more then a random whistle. It sounded like something. A word. Dream, it said. Looking back to the pond he saw the leaves on the pond again.

"Dream." He murmured as he turned away and went back into the building of the King.

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Well, this turned out ok. I guess it was an odd thing to write about but I had fun.

~Megan