"Ada, can't I come to the dinner tonight"
The elf lord looked down at his charge "You are too small, it is going to be long past your bed-time."
The boy puffed himself up "I'm as tall as that hobbit, and he's allowed to stay up."
A light laugh was heard and Gilraen stepped out from the book cases and crouched down in front of her son. She had much of Fíriel's look about her, he noted absently, but then she had almost as much of that blood as Arathorn had had.
He didn't hear what Gilraen said to her son but the boy trotted off with her in the direction of his bedroom readily enough. Determined to add a carrot Elrond called after them
"Be in bed in half an hour and I'll tell you a story before the banquet"
Oddly enough Estel picked up speed at that.
His heart sank as Gandalf revealed another blade. He had been surprised to see Orcrist and Glamdring, though not as surprised as Glorfindel, who he had seen fair cornering the hobbit to get a look at the dagger he had found in the troll cave. None of the others had seen any importance in it, but the former Lord of Gondolin knew something that the dwarves, even other elves did not. This, abomination, he wished never to see again. If Angmar was stirring, even in spirit form, what did that mean? It certainly darkened the necromancer to a level he could only associate with one thing, one being. Sauron.
He forced down his unease, unease bordering on terror and outwardly seemed reassured by Saruman's forceful suggestion that the Necromancer was just a human meddling. But as the council broke up he gave both Mithrandir and Galadriel pointed looks. They three needed to talk together, and soon.
He crossed the courtyard, wandering aimlessly as his mind battled with itself and his heart. He did not want Angmar to have risen, but the facts were there. Everything they had fought for at the end of the second age, what Elendil and Gil-galad had died for, was it all worthless?
Eventually he found himself pushing open the stable door only to be greeted by a small bundle flinging itself around his waste
"Thank you Father, Thank you"
He was bemused for a moment, then his eyes picked up a dappled head stretching out of one of the boxes. Ah yes, the new pony.
"What will you call her?
Elrond smiled and allowed his foster son to tow him forward to see the pony. As he watched the pair of them he felt his dark mood lift and fly away on the wind. Yes the darkness was returning and eventually it would threaten even this paradise and it's occupants. Eventually Aragorn would have to come into his birthright or fall with the Dunedain. But for now at least, he was safe. He just had to get a certain wizard to explain why the Dwarves had vanished from under Saruman's nose.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.