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When he boarded Círdan's ship, there was relief. Anxiety, sorrow, hurt, anticipation. But most of all relief. Comfort, almost, to know that his time in Middle Earth has come to an end. All these thousands of years, he has finally been granted rest. He thinks of Elros, a little jealously.
No regret, this elven life, but not without bitterness. Bitterness that devoured his spirit and sorrow that pierced his heart.
He kissed his sons farewell, holding their hands, tears in their eyes. But ever there remained the half elven steel in their grey eyes, like their father, they are destined for something more than fate.
He knows his sons, that they still have roles to play, kings to foster, scarred lives to live. He would honor their choice.
For a long moment, as he gazed at his sons, the hardened, somber warriors faded before his eyes, and suddenly they were elflings to him again, clinging to each other, whispering comfort and love to their worn-down Lord and father.
Elrond patted their cheeks and smoothed their hair, and saw that they were holding hands, tight and clasped, like children.
He closed his eyes for a brief instant and pretended to be in a particular time and space: Imladris, the twins were yet babes, and he was still joyous. He could hear Celebrían's gentle comfort, her fragrant breath on his ear.
Their mother always reminded the twins to hold hands whenever they were nervous or afraid, when they were little.
"My sweet, brave little Stars," she would say as she wiped wet hair away from their sweaty foreheads.
"Hold your brother's hand, Elladan," she then gently took Ellandan's little hand and linked it with that of Elrohir's. "Don't cry, Elrohir, Nana is here to make you feel safe again."
Such a mother she was to them, they were never safe without her, not even now.
Elrond opened his eyes and lifted his gaze to meet his sons’ glassy silver with unshed tears. So much like their mother in their stubborn devotion. They will come West willingly. They will not find peace anywhere else other than in Celebrían's arms, he knows, they will come West for their mother's sake.
"My sweet, brave little Stars." Elrond whispered lovingly to them, reciting Celebrían's very words. "Hold your brother's hand, Elladan," he lifted their their linked hands and kissed each knuckles tenderly, and saw their eyes went wide with memory.
Taking a deep breath, they let the beauty and love of this moment wash through their very beings. He let go of their hands and gently cupped Elrohir's tired, anxious face.
"Don't cry, Elrohir, Ada is here to make you feel safe again." He offered them a nostalgic smile, a promise of safety from a bygone age.
Their grasp on his arms tightened. “Ada!” They cried, holding him tighter. His smell of sandalwood and wind consoled them, he will always smell of the Valley.
"Farewell, my dearest sons, your mother and I and the rest of our kin will await you in the home of our people. Be well, my little Stars, may my father's light shine on you always, and give Arwen my deepest love. Farewell for now, until we meet again."
And there it was, he relinquished his hold onto them, their fate is now forever sundered from his, his heritage is all that remains.
Círdan let the ship take off, It was a moment he eternally anticipated and dreaded, Elrond stood facing Middle Earth until naught but deep calming blue was in his sight.
-------------------------------------------
"My son, come inside to rest." A feathery voice called, a cool hand was upon his face. He felt dizzy and cold, the sea was rough and the ship freely swayed.
"Hmmm...?" He sleepily replied, the hand withdrew, and he instantly missed the coolness that soothed his growing nausea, his own hands reached out blindingly to grab whoever that was touching him.
The soft voice chuckled. "Elrond, open your eyes." And the refreshing hands were on his face again, and he felt so much better, he opened his eyes.
"My lady." Elrond greeted tiredly, and realized that he had fallen asleep on the deck, saying goodbye to Middle Earth. Night has fallen, it was pitch dark except for the light of Varda's stars.
He groaned as his neck protested loudly from the uncomfortable position he had been sleeping in. Galadriel smiled fondly at her Son-in-law, a child of her heart.
"My son, come inside to rest." She repeated again, offering a hand to pull him up. Elrond was too exhausted to protest. He let her hold him up.
Galadriel led him down the quarters inside the vessel where bedrolls were laid out and a couple candles were lit. There was some lembas on top of the small table tucked in the corner, but he wasn't feeling hungry.
"Here, let me.” She coaxed the drowsy elf-Lord out of his cloak and boots, and ushered him into the warm sheets. He allowed her to tuck him in quietly, too tired and knowing better than to object.
She gazed warmly at him and gently reached out to take off his silver circlet, then she smoothed his dark hair away from his face. Her eyes spoke of fondness, and a piercing tenderness rarely outwardly shown. he sighed softly at her ministrations.
“Elrond, You have lived a fine life, having fulfilled the tasks set before you by Illuvátar onto the end. Rest now, your journey from Imladris must had been utterly exhausting.” She spoke softly, her heart filled with compassion for him.
Then she closed eyes and reached out to him through their unique bond - cousin to cousin, aunt to nephew, teacher to student, healer to healer, friend to friend, mother to son - her power attempted to push him into a dreamless healing sleep.
Suddenly, Elrond's eyes flew open, awed, confused, reluctant. Silver eyes met starlit eyes, their bond vibrated with tension. Galadriel was startled.
"My lady...Why now? Are you not spent yourself? Surely it taxes you to tend to me now. My spirit is wounded, but so is yours." Elrond began to speak, rubbing his eyes.
She looked down at her own hands, surprised. "I am diminished!" She exclaimed jokingly, but not without truth, "Not able to push you into a simple healing sleep!" She laughed at herself, it was a bleak laugh.
"Galadriel, do not worry yourself over me, you and I are the same, we are reduced to our raw being without the rings of power. There is no shame in recognizing our limitations.” Elrond said, comforting her through their bond, he could sense her anxiety and feelings of deep doubt.
In that moment he knew some kind of dam broke in him.
Impulsively he did something he had not done since he came of age - he opened his mind completely to her. Without Vilya, his ability to guard his thoughts was greatly reduced, but he was still mighty in fortressing his mind.
The formidable barriers he built around himself fell for the first time in three ages of the world before her, he was not exactly sure why, or how, or how it was possible. But surely she needs to see his vulnerability, surely it is the way to start to heal for the both of them.
Her eyes went wide with shock, sensing the air around her become different, she could smell the change of time and space, and suddenly she was taken to another place.
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They were in a big white ship, Gil-galad was there, holding a dark squirming elfling in his arms. Recognition struck her, this was Mithlond.
"Elros, do not climb on there, please." She heard Gil-galad's plea, she chuckled when the child Elros turned around and stuck a tongue out at him. Tears gathered in her eyes at the vivid memories from the First Age.
Something warm was stirring in her lap, she looked down, and her hands began to tremble.
"Elrond..." she cupped the face of the child in her arms, he smiled at her.
"Auntie! Auntie!" He exclaimed happily, he stood up in her lap with his little palms on her shoulders. 'Go to Elros! Help Elros!" He pointed at his brothers direction, where Gil-galad was attempting to pull the child down from the bulwark.
She drew herself up with Elrond hoisted on her waist, and walked toward Gil-galad.
"Ereinion..." She called, tears were in her voice. Her brave, worthy nephew.
"Galadriel! Please come help me with this little nightmare!" Gil-galad called to her frustratingly.
"Auntie! Catch me!" Elros screamed mischievously at her, jumping down from where he stood.
Before she could catch Elros, her vision became blurry, the air around her shifted. She was pulled back. She felt nauseated.
Back into this ship, bearing them to Valinor.
"Elrond!" She exclaimed, her knees buckled and she fell down next to him. her arms reached out to embrace the grown form of the elfling in her arms.
"It is well, Auntie. I'm here." He patted her slender back softly, pressing his nose into her golden hair.
"Oh, Elrond...That was..." She was at a lost of words, she squeezed his shoulders hard again.
"I know, it was something, wasn't it?" He offered with a smile, she nodded violently.
Finally, she drew herself up, her white light emitted in the darkness of the chamber. "You are most loved, Elrond - you are still wise. I am merely insecure."
"Galadriel, are you scared to go back? To finally go home?" He asked gently.
She contemplated his question for a moment and answered honestly, "I will not tell you that part of me is not deeply anxious. Aman is a place of healing, but healing requires hard work and pain, and I am utterly spent. I know not how to face all my kin, and all that had come to pass.”
They were silent for a moment, and the swaying of the ship rocked them.
“Then you and I are of the same mind.” Elrond offered her a truthful smile.
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They begin to feel younger as their journey across the sea goes on, with nothing to do, no one to care for, it is surreal.
Elrond finds himself behaving less of an elf-Lord and more of a youngling, less restraint and more raw expressions, he doesn't have to measure his thoughts and composure on this ship anymore. He opens his mind.
It is a lonely relief, but he finds gladness in it. Utter silence but the sound of natural waves, it is good to him.
Galadriel grows softer with days, her hardened interior sheds like scales. Her smiles are freely given, her comments happy. She feels no longer like the high and mighty lady Galadriel, she is simply Galadriel, unjudged and forgiven.
Carefree, almost.
They both know Valinor is another story, there will be people and politics, histories to confront, parents to reconcile. But right now they recuperate, they are enough for each other.
At dawn Galadriel would gently wake Elrond up, they walk to the deck and see the night fade away when Arien rises up to light up this world.
Elrond would take Galadriel's hand and give it a little kiss, greeting her for the day.
They keep watching the sea's ebb and flow, standing on the deck for hours, content.
They share memories through their bond, reliving their lives together before the new ones begin, it is a precious time. He doesn't let go of her hand.
"Galadriel?"
"Yes, Elrond?"
"What does it take, for a child to forgive their parents?”
"Forgiving yourself."
"Do you? Forgive yourself?”
"No."
"Neither do I. Does that mean I will always hurt like this?”
"Nay, child. In Aman we are restored. Even in the deepest wounds in our fëa.”
"I cannot say I do not have my doubts."
”Once, I also doubted. But I choose dependence now for I have been humbled."
“But you fear a gilded cage.”
"I was defiant in my might. But now as I survey my past, I saw all the cages I built for myself. I was made slave to my own pride and I thought that Doom was freedom. I would very much like to shed those cages now.”
"I am nervous to meet Elwing."
"Elwing is a lovely woman. But she will be nervous too, Elrond, she never raised you. She knows naught about you."
"What are you trying to say?"
"The bond between mother and child takes much tending."
"Yes, it does."
"You and Elwing will navigate that together, it would be difficult at first,"
"Hmm."
"But you will come through."
"It is my most genuine hope, Naneth.”
"What was that?"
"Will you tell Elwing about me? Tell her about my life? My marriage? My children? Imladris?"
"Would you not tell her yourself?"
"I would. Alas, I cannot tell my life from a mother's eyes. But I would like for her to have that experience."
"Very well then, my son."
"Thank you, Galadriel. You always have my love."
"And you mine, dearest Elrond."