Chapter 5
"A word of warning. Your heir will not return as he was." Elbereth raised her hands over the still form of the un-crowned King.
"What do you mean?" Gandalf asked, afraid he already knew the answer.
"I will heal his body, but his soul will remain touched by the shadow of death."
"His wound?" Elrond whispered. "It was made by a Nazgul blade." His eyes flashed with anger. "You mean to leave the dark stain on his soul?"
Legolas' eyes widened in horror. "You will raise him only to let him succumb to the poison in his blood? You will allow him to become a Nazgul?" The Woodland elf spat, eyes wild with fury, "You cannot let that happen! You must not!"
"You are in no position to make demands, Quendë." The look with which Elbereth favored the Elf weakened his resolve until he fell to his knees in defeat. "The Valar have a reason for everything. We do not make such decisions lightly."
"Do you wish to break me?" Elrond whispered painfully. His sons moved quickly to their father's side, flanking him, offering wordless support. By the fury in their dark eyes was not to be missed as they stared at the Valar. "I will cut him down before he wakes if you raise him without healing the Nazgul wound. I will not let him suffer during such a transformation, knowing what he will become, knowing that my daughter gave up her life to follow him into the death he will never receive." Elrond was furious, unable to control the trembling of his arms as they hung at his sides.
Elladan reached out to steady his father, wrapping a strong hand around the Elf's forearm. Elrohir followed his brother's lead, grasping tightly his father's other arm. Together they exchanged a look of desperation that was not lost on Elbereth.
"Choose Elf Lord." Elbereth hissed, her patience with them growing thin. "Your decision will seal the fate of all Middle-Earth."
"I beg of you, please-" Elrond clasped his hands before him, eyes pleading with the Valar.
Elrohir finally snapped, unable to remain silent in the face of such an overwhelming defeat of everything the elves had struggled, and in many cases, died for.
"How can the Valar permit Melkor, through his servant Sauron, to have the final victory over Middle-Earth?" Elbereth ignored the twin but he continued. "The One Ring has been destroyed, yes, but the death of last heir to the line of Elendil, the line of Elros Tar-Minyatur - can you not see that is too high a price to pay." The Elf's eyes were blazing with fury.
"The future cannot be changed, and the past cannot be undone." Elbereth said sadly. "I cannot - "
"You 'will' not, you mean!" Elladan spat as he took a step toward the Valar.
She raised her hands over the bed and began to chant in low tones in a language that only Galadriel, having been a student of the Maiar, could understand.
"You cannot raise him," Galadriel's quiet voice silenced everyone. "He would not survive the poison coursing through his blood. He would become a Nazgul and Gondor would fall to the might he would summon from the blackness of Mordor. The might he would summon from the darkness of that land would rival that of Sauron himself."
Elrond simply stared at Galadriel and she continued.
"If he were to survive his wounds, he would be only half the man who fell to the Nazgul blade." The Elven Queen gazed sadly toward the bed. "The other half of his heart lay here in his arms, dead due to her grief at his loss. He would suffer greatly, and bring the Kingdom of Gondor down with him."
"You can raise neither of them." Elrohir whispered, realizing with a pang that his grandmother was right.
"I foresee only one solution to the lack of a ruling heir to this kingdom." She took a deep breath and then shifted her gaze to Elrond, to the twins and then toward Imrahil. "You will bear witness, for the Gondorian people, to what I say here today."
Imrahil nodded slowly. "I will, Lady."
"Do you know the origins of Arnor, and of its sister city of Gondor?"
"I do."
Elbereth ceased her chants and smiled knowingly at the revelations the Elven Queen of Lothlorien was about to make known. Her decisions had, indeed, not been made lightly, and while those who stood before her now may look upon her with hatred, they would one day see that this was truly the only solution.
The others waited in utter silence, their breathing shallow, listening intently to what the Elven Queen had to say.
"Tell me."
Imrahil blinked, clearly unable to understand why now, of all times, he was to recount the history of the foundation of the two once great cities.
Galadriel, sensing his confusion, raised her hand and assured, "All will be revealed in due time. Tell me."
"It is written that Elendil and his sons sailed across the sea to Middle- Earth and founded the two cities. Elendil fell in the Siege of Barad-dûr during the last Alliance of Elves and Men. His son Isildur succeeded him." Imrahil stared at Galadriel, eyes unblinking. "We have been without a King of Isildur's blood for generations and - "
"From where did Elendil come?"
Imrahil took a deep breath, unable to understand why he was being made to recount this information. "He came from the island kingdom of Numenor."
"The Kings of both Gondor and Arnor were all of Numenorean blood. The rule has never been succeeded by any other than those of that blood, and such lineage as it came from Elendil." Galadriel stated and Imrahil nodded. "The first King of Numenor was?"
Imrahil answered her slowly, warily. "Elros Tar-Minyatur."
"Yes." Galadriel tossed a look at Gandalf, who had known when her questioning began, where it would lead.
"There is another who lives and he bears a much purer strand of Numenorean blood than did Isildur and his father, Elendil. Because of Aragorn's death, he may take up the throne and be crowned as King of both Gondor and Arnor."
Elrond stood and took a step back, whispering, "No. Don't do this."
Elladan and Elrohir gasped, unable to believe that this was what Galadriel had planned. And revealing it to a noble of Gondor, duty-bound to reveal that such another heir lived. What was said could not be unsaid and would bind their father to the Mortal Kingdom in a way he never intended.
"Elrond Peredhil, or Half-Elven in the common tongue, is the brother of Elros Tar-Minyatur."
Imrahil blinked.
"No" Elrond whispered as realization of Galadriel's questioning slowly dawned over his grief-stricken heart.
"There is no one living who would dare dispute his claim." Galadriel had avoided looking at Elrond, instead choosing to carefully watch and gauge Imrahil's reaction to this news.
"None at all," Imrahil breathed, unable to form any more words than was absolutely necessary. The events of the day, the loss the Kingdom had sustained, was nearly too much for him to bear.
"I claim nothing, Galadriel," Elrond's stared at the Elven Queen. "You dare much to mention this. My people are departing for the Undying Lands and I intend to follow them."
Imrahil blinked, finally remembering that Elrond was an elf. An immortal elf.
"And leave Middle-Earth to its doom? Without a King, these lands will fracture and divide. The evidence that this has already begun, are strewn throughout this city. There will be no peace."
Elrond was too dumfounded to speak.
Galadriel's gaze shifted to the twins.
"You cannot ask this of my sons. You cannot ask this of me!" Elrond hissed but was silenced by the hands of Elladan coming to rest heavily on his shoulder.
"Aragorn was a brother, in every sense of the word, including blood." Elladan exchanged a sad look with Elrohir before continuing. "If by assuming the rule of Gondor and Arnor will preserve the line from which he came, and the peace of this land, then we will do it."
Elrond's eyes squeezed shut and he began to shake uncontrollably. "I will- not lose all three of my children today." Sobs wracked his body and he nearly collapsed into the arms of his sons as they reached out to steady their father. "I can't."
From Elbereth's lips came a white breath and the sweetest, song-like voice they had ever heard. "The choice has been made." In a flash of blinding light she was gone.
When the light faded, the twins opened their eyes and exhaled deeply.
Elrohir turned to Imrahil, "When the excitement from the destruction of Sauron has subsided, we will address the council of nobles and announce our intentions."
"What - might those be?" Imrahil asked.
"Gondor and Arnor need a King. They need someone to reunite the kingdom of old and raise them to their former glory." Elrohir smiled sadly at where his brother lay motionless on the bed. "Aragorn had many plans for what he would do for the Reunited Kingdom should he ever assume the throne. Elladan and I will see to it those plans are instituted."
Elladan stepped beside his brother and clasped his shoulder. "We will rule in our fallen brother's stead and strive to uphold the ideals with which he governed his life and with the kindness with which he treated all life around him."
Elrond turned to his sons and pleaded. "You cannot do this. This is not your fate-"
"Our fate would have been to remain with Aragorn and Arwen in Middle-Earth when you traveled across the Sea," Elrohir answered softly. "We had not yet revealed our intentions to you regarding this matter."
"Now we can honor Estel's memory and that of our sister by taking up the rule that he was born to assume." Elrohir continued, "We know how deeply you miss our mother. In this way, you will be have no ties to Middle-Earth and can return to the West and to Celebrian's arms."
"And leave my son's behind?" The pain in their father's voice was nearly too much to bear.
"You would have done the same had Estel lived."
"Your mother will kill me." Elrond whispered sadly.
"She will understand for whom we make this sacrifice."
"The elves have no place in this land. We are fading! The beauty of our cities will diminish and soon you will be alone."
"I will remain for as long as I am needed," Legolas said. "They will never be truly alone."
"The call to cross over the Sea will become too great for even you to bear, Legolas of Mirkwood." Elrond rebutted. "You have not been given the choice of the half-elven. You will cross the Sea one day."
"We have decided, father," Elrohir ended the protest with a stern rebuke – one that he would not soon forget. "It will be done."
"For Estel and for Arwen." Elladan added sadly.
END
"A word of warning. Your heir will not return as he was." Elbereth raised her hands over the still form of the un-crowned King.
"What do you mean?" Gandalf asked, afraid he already knew the answer.
"I will heal his body, but his soul will remain touched by the shadow of death."
"His wound?" Elrond whispered. "It was made by a Nazgul blade." His eyes flashed with anger. "You mean to leave the dark stain on his soul?"
Legolas' eyes widened in horror. "You will raise him only to let him succumb to the poison in his blood? You will allow him to become a Nazgul?" The Woodland elf spat, eyes wild with fury, "You cannot let that happen! You must not!"
"You are in no position to make demands, Quendë." The look with which Elbereth favored the Elf weakened his resolve until he fell to his knees in defeat. "The Valar have a reason for everything. We do not make such decisions lightly."
"Do you wish to break me?" Elrond whispered painfully. His sons moved quickly to their father's side, flanking him, offering wordless support. By the fury in their dark eyes was not to be missed as they stared at the Valar. "I will cut him down before he wakes if you raise him without healing the Nazgul wound. I will not let him suffer during such a transformation, knowing what he will become, knowing that my daughter gave up her life to follow him into the death he will never receive." Elrond was furious, unable to control the trembling of his arms as they hung at his sides.
Elladan reached out to steady his father, wrapping a strong hand around the Elf's forearm. Elrohir followed his brother's lead, grasping tightly his father's other arm. Together they exchanged a look of desperation that was not lost on Elbereth.
"Choose Elf Lord." Elbereth hissed, her patience with them growing thin. "Your decision will seal the fate of all Middle-Earth."
"I beg of you, please-" Elrond clasped his hands before him, eyes pleading with the Valar.
Elrohir finally snapped, unable to remain silent in the face of such an overwhelming defeat of everything the elves had struggled, and in many cases, died for.
"How can the Valar permit Melkor, through his servant Sauron, to have the final victory over Middle-Earth?" Elbereth ignored the twin but he continued. "The One Ring has been destroyed, yes, but the death of last heir to the line of Elendil, the line of Elros Tar-Minyatur - can you not see that is too high a price to pay." The Elf's eyes were blazing with fury.
"The future cannot be changed, and the past cannot be undone." Elbereth said sadly. "I cannot - "
"You 'will' not, you mean!" Elladan spat as he took a step toward the Valar.
She raised her hands over the bed and began to chant in low tones in a language that only Galadriel, having been a student of the Maiar, could understand.
"You cannot raise him," Galadriel's quiet voice silenced everyone. "He would not survive the poison coursing through his blood. He would become a Nazgul and Gondor would fall to the might he would summon from the blackness of Mordor. The might he would summon from the darkness of that land would rival that of Sauron himself."
Elrond simply stared at Galadriel and she continued.
"If he were to survive his wounds, he would be only half the man who fell to the Nazgul blade." The Elven Queen gazed sadly toward the bed. "The other half of his heart lay here in his arms, dead due to her grief at his loss. He would suffer greatly, and bring the Kingdom of Gondor down with him."
"You can raise neither of them." Elrohir whispered, realizing with a pang that his grandmother was right.
"I foresee only one solution to the lack of a ruling heir to this kingdom." She took a deep breath and then shifted her gaze to Elrond, to the twins and then toward Imrahil. "You will bear witness, for the Gondorian people, to what I say here today."
Imrahil nodded slowly. "I will, Lady."
"Do you know the origins of Arnor, and of its sister city of Gondor?"
"I do."
Elbereth ceased her chants and smiled knowingly at the revelations the Elven Queen of Lothlorien was about to make known. Her decisions had, indeed, not been made lightly, and while those who stood before her now may look upon her with hatred, they would one day see that this was truly the only solution.
The others waited in utter silence, their breathing shallow, listening intently to what the Elven Queen had to say.
"Tell me."
Imrahil blinked, clearly unable to understand why now, of all times, he was to recount the history of the foundation of the two once great cities.
Galadriel, sensing his confusion, raised her hand and assured, "All will be revealed in due time. Tell me."
"It is written that Elendil and his sons sailed across the sea to Middle- Earth and founded the two cities. Elendil fell in the Siege of Barad-dûr during the last Alliance of Elves and Men. His son Isildur succeeded him." Imrahil stared at Galadriel, eyes unblinking. "We have been without a King of Isildur's blood for generations and - "
"From where did Elendil come?"
Imrahil took a deep breath, unable to understand why he was being made to recount this information. "He came from the island kingdom of Numenor."
"The Kings of both Gondor and Arnor were all of Numenorean blood. The rule has never been succeeded by any other than those of that blood, and such lineage as it came from Elendil." Galadriel stated and Imrahil nodded. "The first King of Numenor was?"
Imrahil answered her slowly, warily. "Elros Tar-Minyatur."
"Yes." Galadriel tossed a look at Gandalf, who had known when her questioning began, where it would lead.
"There is another who lives and he bears a much purer strand of Numenorean blood than did Isildur and his father, Elendil. Because of Aragorn's death, he may take up the throne and be crowned as King of both Gondor and Arnor."
Elrond stood and took a step back, whispering, "No. Don't do this."
Elladan and Elrohir gasped, unable to believe that this was what Galadriel had planned. And revealing it to a noble of Gondor, duty-bound to reveal that such another heir lived. What was said could not be unsaid and would bind their father to the Mortal Kingdom in a way he never intended.
"Elrond Peredhil, or Half-Elven in the common tongue, is the brother of Elros Tar-Minyatur."
Imrahil blinked.
"No" Elrond whispered as realization of Galadriel's questioning slowly dawned over his grief-stricken heart.
"There is no one living who would dare dispute his claim." Galadriel had avoided looking at Elrond, instead choosing to carefully watch and gauge Imrahil's reaction to this news.
"None at all," Imrahil breathed, unable to form any more words than was absolutely necessary. The events of the day, the loss the Kingdom had sustained, was nearly too much for him to bear.
"I claim nothing, Galadriel," Elrond's stared at the Elven Queen. "You dare much to mention this. My people are departing for the Undying Lands and I intend to follow them."
Imrahil blinked, finally remembering that Elrond was an elf. An immortal elf.
"And leave Middle-Earth to its doom? Without a King, these lands will fracture and divide. The evidence that this has already begun, are strewn throughout this city. There will be no peace."
Elrond was too dumfounded to speak.
Galadriel's gaze shifted to the twins.
"You cannot ask this of my sons. You cannot ask this of me!" Elrond hissed but was silenced by the hands of Elladan coming to rest heavily on his shoulder.
"Aragorn was a brother, in every sense of the word, including blood." Elladan exchanged a sad look with Elrohir before continuing. "If by assuming the rule of Gondor and Arnor will preserve the line from which he came, and the peace of this land, then we will do it."
Elrond's eyes squeezed shut and he began to shake uncontrollably. "I will- not lose all three of my children today." Sobs wracked his body and he nearly collapsed into the arms of his sons as they reached out to steady their father. "I can't."
From Elbereth's lips came a white breath and the sweetest, song-like voice they had ever heard. "The choice has been made." In a flash of blinding light she was gone.
When the light faded, the twins opened their eyes and exhaled deeply.
Elrohir turned to Imrahil, "When the excitement from the destruction of Sauron has subsided, we will address the council of nobles and announce our intentions."
"What - might those be?" Imrahil asked.
"Gondor and Arnor need a King. They need someone to reunite the kingdom of old and raise them to their former glory." Elrohir smiled sadly at where his brother lay motionless on the bed. "Aragorn had many plans for what he would do for the Reunited Kingdom should he ever assume the throne. Elladan and I will see to it those plans are instituted."
Elladan stepped beside his brother and clasped his shoulder. "We will rule in our fallen brother's stead and strive to uphold the ideals with which he governed his life and with the kindness with which he treated all life around him."
Elrond turned to his sons and pleaded. "You cannot do this. This is not your fate-"
"Our fate would have been to remain with Aragorn and Arwen in Middle-Earth when you traveled across the Sea," Elrohir answered softly. "We had not yet revealed our intentions to you regarding this matter."
"Now we can honor Estel's memory and that of our sister by taking up the rule that he was born to assume." Elrohir continued, "We know how deeply you miss our mother. In this way, you will be have no ties to Middle-Earth and can return to the West and to Celebrian's arms."
"And leave my son's behind?" The pain in their father's voice was nearly too much to bear.
"You would have done the same had Estel lived."
"Your mother will kill me." Elrond whispered sadly.
"She will understand for whom we make this sacrifice."
"The elves have no place in this land. We are fading! The beauty of our cities will diminish and soon you will be alone."
"I will remain for as long as I am needed," Legolas said. "They will never be truly alone."
"The call to cross over the Sea will become too great for even you to bear, Legolas of Mirkwood." Elrond rebutted. "You have not been given the choice of the half-elven. You will cross the Sea one day."
"We have decided, father," Elrohir ended the protest with a stern rebuke – one that he would not soon forget. "It will be done."
"For Estel and for Arwen." Elladan added sadly.
END