4. Generation Gap
"Long have I awaited this day, son of Eärendil," the golden Elf said as he welcomed his great-grandson with open arms.
Elrond knew not what to say to his great-grandfather, of whom he knew very much, but only from tales. Few did justice to the reality. Informality was a struggle, especially since the tales had ended with the violent death of the one standing before him.
"It is a pleasure to meet you at last, Eardaeradar."
"Come now, my heir should be able to do better than that." Turgon said with a bemused smile. Well he knew his affect on recent arrivals from Ennor. Shock. And given the circumstances, more than usual.
"Your heir?" The Peredhel said the words unwillingly. "But my father.."
"Already has a far greater position than any I could give him. And his duties, which are permanent, keep him too oft away. He spends the little time he is granted on these shores in your mother's company, though he will of course make an exception on his next visit." Elrond had not yet seen either of his parents.
"Alas, the rumors you have heard were only that. He was granted many years here, but could not escape the Doom of Men in the end. You are now my second, if you wish it."
"Idril?" the Peredhel whispered, having been told long ago by Glorfindel that his grandmother had been a delicate subject to raise with Turgon even before the Exile.
"Followed her husband." the once King, now Prince, solemnly admitted.
The two regarded each other for a moment, sharing the common grief.
Clearly he is not much interested in rank or position any more, and well that it is so! For it is most unlikely Ada will think much of him, given his behavior over his last several yeni in Ennor, the elder thought. But then, Ada did not think much of my last yen in Ennor either. Neither does this one, even though he would not exist had I chosen differently.
To Elrond it seemed that the two generations separating him from this Elf might well have been fifty, but somehow in reverse order, with Turgon the younger. This impossibility brought on a headache - a curse of the mortal part of his blood.
Turgon took pity on his bewildered descendant, smiled and bid a servant open another door of the elegant chamber. "It will pass, Elrond. But come now, let us leave matters of state for tomorrow and put pain and solemnity aside. There are others who are not lost to us, who can bring a smile to the most sombre of men. My wife and my sister, for example."
So, Elrond found a great-grandmother and great-aunt added to his fast-growing family. Their tales of Galadriel as a imperious toddler proved most amusing indeed.
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