Shining

Canon-compliant.  Elrond contemplates the star Eärendil, his father.  All Sindarin names (except Eärendil, of course).  This story really doesn't relate much to any others, but if it did it would probably be to "Repeat" and "Lullaby".  Anyway, I don't know if you agree (you certainly needn't), but I have a distinct outlook on the matter of Elrond's "parentage".  This is just a peek at how Elrond views the guy who sailed off into the sunset and never came back.  Takes place in Imladris in the Third Age during the Lord of the Rings.

Disclaimer: I own neither the Silmarillion or the Lord of the Rings

Pairings: Elrond x Celebrían (background)

Characters: Elrond, Eärendil (mentions Elros, Gil-Galad, Celebrían, Maglor, Maedhros, Elwing, Arwen, Elrohir, Elladan and Aragorn)

Warning: canon-compliant, canon character death, semi-dysfunctional familial relationships, death and war mentioned, fading, implied torture and non-con

Song: Shine

Words: 1,285
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shining (verb): to emit rays of light; to be bright by reflection of light; to have a bright glowing appearance
http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/shine

Elrond did not remember the make of his father's visage.  He had seen paintings and tapestries, but no amount of gazing upon sun-kissed planes would remind him of a person he knew.

Like many other figures in Elrond's life, Eärendil had not been a permanent fixture.  At the most, the younger twin could recall waves of golden hair caught between his tiny, pudgy fingers and an odd feeling of warmth and safety cradled against a broad chest with a heartbeat beneath his cheek.  The scent of the sea lingered heavily in those cloudy memories, mist and salt grappling for dominance on the back of his tongue.

But if one had asked whether he looked more as his father's son or his mother's in appearance or temperament, he could not have said truthfully one way or the other.  He could not even have said what had been the color of his father's eyes.

And, truly, he could barely name Eärendil his father at all, not in the sense that was meant when he was asked of his parentage.  It was, after all, not the mariner who had sung him lullabies as a child, who had tucked him in with hugs and kisses or comforted him after brutal nightmares of the slayings in Arvarnien.  Perhaps Eärendil the Blessed had planted the seed that had sprouted into an intelligent young elfling, bright-eyed with insatiable curiosity, but it had been Maglor Fëanorion who had cultivated the promising child into a proud, honorable adult worthy of the respect and admiration doted upon him by his subjects.

Whenever he was asked about his father, it was always silver eyes and dark hair that first came to his mind, eyes and hair so like his own he had before been mistaken for actual blood kin of his adoptive father.  And it did not feel like betrayal to look upon Maglor so.  Eärendil had put his place in the Song--his loyalty to his suffering people as a prince of the Noldor--before his love for his wife and the safety and wellbeing of his children.  Part of Elrond resented as such, but part of him held no blame or anger towards the man, though he could never have sacrificed his family, even for the wellbeing of all his people.

No, when asked about Eärendil, it was not the feelings of a son that surged forth in adoration for his sire and idol.

And he wondered, as he looked up at the darkened sky, whether those around him realized that--to Elrond Eärendilion--the legendary figure upon his shining ship flying off to war and victory and timeless glory was just that: a legend.  There was reverence and awe in his breast when he beheld that Silmaril set as a gem in its crown of the sky.

And more.

Because, when the darkness began to close in, at least that one light in the West never faded.  That little ray of hope which whispered that perhaps the Valar still cared for those exiles still lingering in the twilight world of Men.  That perhaps there was something bright on the horizon of this world as it was consumed by gloom and wickedness, for even the darkest storms of Beleriand had broken up to reveal sunlight pouring down behind.

If Elrond had to characterize his feelings for his birth father, it would have been a mixture of hope and gratefulness.  Little sorrow clung to his memories.  Only security and stability.

Even as he looked now far into the West, a quiet little smile parted his lips.  How many times had he invoked the name Gil-Estel in times of need?

Sat and stared at the star and pleaded with whatever power of the world would listen to watch over Maglor and Maedhros.  He and his twin had been sent away to the havens in the south, far away from the war and far away from the cursed Fëanorioni.  Far away from the only parents they had ever known--parents Elrond missed so powerfully it had felt as a stab to the chest with a chilled blade.

Looked to that star in the days after Elros had made his devastating choice to sunder himself from their kin and join the Secondborn.  Elrond had pleaded with the unfamiliar spirit hanging so brightly in the sky to watch over his older twin until the day he passed beyond the edges of the world. To help him stay happy and content.  Because he knew he would never see his brother again.

Even in the aftermath of the War of the Ring, in the aftermath of seeing his childhood best friend being burned to ash like an insignificant ant beneath the boot of a Power of the world, and of watching friends he had known for centuries perish beneath rusted, jagged blades, that star still hung over his head and soothed away the tears that never seemed to cease falling with cool brushes.

Watched over him when he met the love of his love and stood enchanted with her loveliness.  Graced their first kiss with its rays as they stood together in the golden light of Lothlórien.  And burned like the only light in the darkness that swamped him when she had been brutally ripped away and he was left behind to wither in despair and loneliness.

And now, he stood on his balcony and arched his head upwards, eyes piercingly settled to the West, needing that comfort more than ever before.  In the distance, to the east, fire and ash clouded the sky and shuddered as a doomed fire in the blackness.

Worry as he had never felt before churned in his gut, nearly bringing bile to the back of his throat.  For he was here, so far away, and those most precious to him were there.

"Watch over Estel.  Keep him safe, the last descendent of Elros' line.  My son in all but blood.  He needs your guidance and guardianship more now than ever.

"And my daughter, my sweet little Arwen, the Evenstar.  Keep her strong in these dark times as you have always kept me.  Let her love never falter.

"And watch over my sons as they ride into battle.  As they make their choices.  Keep them together and watch over them after I am gone from these shores, by death or by choice.

"Watch all of them after I have left them behind."

And, somehow, that shining star seemed to glow even brighter, casting its own soft celestial light down from the heavens to rival Ithil's full glory in the night sky.  And, somehow, that sight alone brought the ancient elf reassurance.  Even knowing that his children were riding into battle and could be felled by a lucky blade or arrow.  Even knowing that, should Men fail and the world fall to evil and corruption, his daughter would fade into death long before Sauron's forces would reach the Hidden Valley and destroy all he had worked to build.

Even with that in the back of his mind as an insidious voice of doubt, there was still that hope.

Perhaps he did not view Eärendil as a father in the same way he did Maglor.  But, perhaps, he loved the father of his birth in a completely unique manner that had naught to do with familial devotion.  And yet this love was no less powerful than the bond which he had woven with his parent by adoption.

Thinking of that untouchable legend smiling down on him gave Elrond strength.  And he could have asked for no greater gift.
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Okay, so here's the place to discuss Maglor vs. Eärendil.  I have to say that I'm mildly upset by the fact that Eärendil sails off to Valinor and seems to ignore the existence of his wife and children.  I'm even more upset by the fact that Elwing values a glowing rock over her children and would rather drown to keep it out of enemy hands than give it up so that she might protect her children or at least escape with them.  These actions do not endear these characters to me, personally.

Thus it is that, as very young children, Elrond and Elros would barely remember their parents (because I don't buy the bull about elves remembering everything).  Maglor is the one who raised them (with Maedhros help?  LOL) and thus is the one they would consider their "father". (Not to mention that, in my story-canon, they are the great-grandchildren of Celegorm and might very well share family resemblance.) However, I don't think Elrond would hate Eärendil, because the guy had an important job and only saved the world from Morgoth.  Nevertheless, I can't see a familial bond between two people who have barely met.

This is where this story came in.

Anyway, the song title made me chortle.  Shine by Biondo is a song that you could probably interpret as romantic love, but which I (personally) feel could be interpreted differently under the correct connotation.  Nevertheless, it's a beautiful song and captures the essence of the idea of the piece, and so I used it even though this is by no means a romance.  Hope you liked anyway :3.