The standard bearer (Elrond x oc)

28. Epilogue: Faithful to the Last

Elrond sat back in his chair with a tired sigh, cradling his wine cup in one fine hand, and closing his eyes. At his right hand a small table held a simple meal, scarcely touched. Slowly the duties and cares of the day faded from his face, but they were not replaced by a look of peace, rather by sorrow and a deep loneliness. Only a single lamp softened the darkness of his chamber, but the doors to the balcony were open, admitting the soft evening breeze and the pale light of the moon. Faint sounds of music drifted up from the Hall of Fire. Songs were being sung, in celebration of the crowning of the new Queen of Gondor and Arnor, and for the homecoming of the Master of Imladris.

But Elrond felt no joy, only a great weary sadness. It was over. Finally. The Ring had been destroyed, Sauron had been vanquished forever. He had fulfilled the last service to his long dead king. His daughter was wed in happiness and splendour in City of Kings. The Age of Man had begun. Yet for him, it was a hollow victory, bringing only empty days and lonely nights.

He felt his eyelids begin to flutter and his mind to flow into dreams. Would she appear again tonight? He had not been able to explain it, why Gil should come to mind now, after all this time, but she had walked in his dreams every night since he had left Minas Tirith. Perhaps it was the finding of the Ring that had stirred up the past, or being once again in the land of Gondor. Bittersweet it was, seeing her again, awakening the old, old pain - long buried but never healed. And yet, behind the loss and the sorrow, shone the memory of happiness and love.

The moon was bright outside, casting sharp shadows against the walls of the house, and over the flagstones of the paths. Paths along which a slight, dark figure trod silently, each barefooted step noiseless on the smooth stone. And although many Elves walked and sang in the gardens of Rivendell, yet none discerned the visitor slipping amongst them. The face was hidden in the shadow of a cloak, whose grey-green folds covered the livery of an ancient house. Past the brightly lit windows, looking in wonder at the beauty of the house, lightly over the grass, pausing beneath the huge oak to gaze upward at the ancient branches, then with a soft and slow pace, up each of the steps that led to the balcony of the Lord's chamber. Coming to a stop at the threshold, blending with the shadows, to look in upon the Master of Imladris as he sat dreaming. But at the sight so presented, a tiny sharp cry, too tardily stifled, broke from the lips.

Elrond's eyes flickered and focused. Was she there? In the doorway, silhouetted against the moonlight.

"Gil." He whispered.

She moved forward with a hesitating step, pushing back the hood of the cloak.

It was her. So close, so real, he could almost reach out for her.

"It is you, my little sleeper." The saddest of smiles came to his face. "Still haunting my dreams." He breathed a long sigh as the memories rose in him, the ache of longing that had never truly gone. "I miss you so very much, even after all these many, long years." He closed his eyes and a single tear fluttered from his lash. "If I could have but one wish, it would be that you were here with me now. You would know how to warm this empty place that was my heart."

"Oh my love." Her voice was soft as she crossed to him, and the arms she placed about him felt so comforting and familiar. "I am here. I am here."

Leaning his head against her breast, and clasping her to him, she felt so alive, so real. The stroke of her hand, the whisper of her lips against his hair, it was a though she were truly present. He gave himself up to it, closing his eyes against the world, feeling only her closeness, the warmth of her in his arms, the steady heartbeat beneath his ear. "Oh that I might never awake." He murmured.

"Elrond." Her voice was gentle, yet insistent, filled with that timbre of love that had echoed in his ears so long ago. "Elrond."

"Yes, my heart?" he whispered, pressing his face to her, not daring to open his eyes or speak aloud, lest she vanish.