DarkElf Reunites with Earendil


He comes, walking toward us
Descending from the heights
His raiment scintillating in the sun
More glorious than the finest jewel

From within his beautiful face
A new light shines forth
The Silmaril upon his brow glows like a thing living
He has no shadow

I watch with pleasure as Eärendil runs toward us, kicking up the surf in his haste to be reunited with Elwing. Decorum is discarded; she runs to him, also, and I think thus: Not even the hardest heart could part them, these two who love beyond the limits of the Earth!

But not all my worry has fled like the shadows at Eärendil's approach. What doom would he now face, one who is of the race of both Men and Eldar, coming here to this place forbidden? He could not have come hither, so, without the aid of a mighty tool. Even so, he might not have arrived without the aid of Destiny, for it was long known to me that such a fate would be his. Did not his mother Idril foresee his duty, and sacrifice much to preserve him?

He has taken his wife in his arms, and I turn away to give them each other. Facing the sea, I look past the rocking fleet and the distant shoals, reaching as if with my mind to the Eastern lands, where I yearn to return.

A hand touches my shoulder, and that hand is shining with holy light. Eärendil stands there, Elwing beside him. Gently, he embraces me, and I feel baptized by his forgiving heart.

"I have spoken to the Valar," Eärendil says. "I have asked for pardon for the Noldor and pity for their great sorrows, and mercy upon Men and Elves and succour in their need. They have heard me and will soon answer."

I look upon him, fear speading through me like a cold dawn. "Their need? Their sorrows? What of thee, my Lord?"

"My doom is yet to be prounounced, but do not fear, Morlothiel. This is a small sacrifice if the world is to be free of manipulations of Bauglir!" His face is not sad, but full of joy and much weariness. Even so brief a time upon these sacred shores has exacted a great toll on him. Or was it the fire of the Silmaril and the price of its posession?

Taking his hands, I say to him, "I see in you your father, beloved Eärendil. A tiredness of the world that touches not the Eldar; Tuor bore his burden out to Sea. Where is he now? Did you find him on your journeys? I saw him not in Mandos, nor dear Idril thy mother. Say that I shall not lose you also!"

"My doom awaits me, as does your own, my friend. It is in the hands of the Valar now."

Never have I rested well with the thought of my fate in the hands of another. I cross my arms stubbornly and say, "Hard I laboured to bring you to your destiny. I shall not forsake you now. What doom you are given, so shall I share, if the Valar permit it."

"We must wait for their decision. But for now, let us be together in merriment. If these are the last moments I will know, then I know absolute bliss and joy, for Elwing is with me and also you, beloved friend. Let us use our time well."

- Lothithil