The Spectre at the Feast

The Spectre at the Feast

Part Two

I

Their eyes met and the brothers studied each other’s faces. For a while there seemed to be no other place in the world besides that one garden terrace, where the two identical figures struggled to find something to say that would break the silence of half a century.

An icy shiver ran down Elrond’s back. He forgot every one of his rehearsed speeches and simply stared, wondering how his brother could look so different and yet be exactly as he expected him to be. He could not read Elros’ expression, but a glowing aura of nobility surrounded him. He rose from the fountain’s edge and stood straight-backed, regally austere, emanating authority. He embodied everything Elrond had envied him for; success, confidence and surety. Elrond, numbed and bewildered, bowed to him.

Elros stared at him, outwardly implacable. Elrond looked radiant, exactly as Elros had imagined him – a lord of the Eldar in fine robes with jewels in his hair, gleaming with life and the power of his ancient ancestry. He wore a sagacious frown and his eyes sparkled with intellect and passion. He seemed far older than Elros remembered, yet at the same time appeared no different, as if his youth and maturity somehow mingled, fashioning an immortal being more awesome than Elros could have foreseen.

Elros watched his brother bow and parted his lips in surprise. Holding himself as rigid as ever, he walked slowly towards Elrond, waiting for him to straighten before he offered his hand. Elrond paused then accepted, never once breaking eye contact. Elros breathed deeply and pulled him forward into an embrace.

They held each other for what felt like an age. Elrond closed his eyes, relief rushing through him like water through a broken dam, although his mind still reeled. He found himself gripping Elros’ shoulders tightly, clinging to him as he had done when they were children, as Elros defended him from his imagined terrors.

Elros drew back first and held his brother at arms’ length, gazing at him until he knew every detail of Elrond’s face and form. Still neither one spoke, but both stared, open-mouthed, urging words to come. Finally Elros inhaled sharply and made a visible effort to compose himself.

“I’m glad you came,” he said. He brushed Elrond’s hair back from his face and touched his cheek lightly. “I’ve missed you.”

Elrond still had no idea what he ought to say. He allowed Elros to guide him across the terrace to the stone bench where they sat together, surrounded by fireflies that danced around the air, glowing brighter than the lanterns. Other insects chirped and whispered in amongst the flowers, providing a steady rhythm to the rapidly falling night, while a host of nocturnal songbirds serenaded the brothers from the far side of the gardens. For a long time, Elros let the host of soothing sounds and the mingled scents of many fragrant trees seep around them, hoping that, given a moment’s peace, Elrond might relax. He felt a surge of satisfaction, knowing his choice of location had been a wise one.

“I trust your journey was safe and pleasant,” Elros went on at last. “And your room here? It’s to your liking?”

“It’s very fine,” replied Elrond. “Fine. Everything here seems very…”

“Fine?” laughed Elros.

Elrond glanced away, suddenly very interested in the flora.

“I’m fairly proud of how the palace turned out,” Elros continued. “Though, I shan’t go into the tale of its construction. I still shudder when I recall some of the disasters we encountered, though I imagine it all adds to the character of the place. My children are already competing for a place by your side, to show you every inch of the kingdom. I’m glad they take such pride in it. Often I wondered, when they were young, if I hadn't been hasty, to deny them the life of the Eldar, but they love Númenor as though they could never consider any other existence.”

“I didn’t realise you had children,” Elrond told him quietly. “If I had known, I should have brought gifts. And for your grandchildren.”

“Your being here is a gift to them. Surely you saw that in Vardamir?” said Elros with a dry laugh. “I must beg your forgiveness at having neglected to keep you informed, as my life progressed. But you must understand, what with things the way they were…”

“You speak as if things have changed?” asked Elrond, not unkindly.

“Well they have,” answered Elros, pulling his shoulders back slightly. “Of course they have.” He shuffled and smoothed his tunic. “I’ve arranged a feast tonight. A celebration. That my little brother has finally come to see me.”

Elrond glowered. “I am not your ‘little’ brother.”

Elros smiled. “I was born first, if you recall.”

“We were begotten in the same instant. Therefore neither of us is older.”

“Well, you will always be my little brother.” Elros reached across to tousle Elrond’s hair, but Elrond jerked his head away instinctively, turning his gaze to the rows of sleeping birds amongst the trees. Elros sagged slightly and withdrew his hand.

“But you must tell me everything,” he continued, maintaining a light hearted tone. “You’ve seen my kingdom, or part of it at least. You know what has become of me. So what of you? Tell me each detail. What have you done over the years?”

Elrond glanced around, embarrassment warming his cheeks. “I’ve done nothing to compare to this,” he replied, waving a hand around to indicate the city.

Elros studied him, spotting the slight flush in Elrond’s face. A surge of guilt raced through him and he quickly thought of something he could say to ease the situation.

“It’s been nearly five hundred years,” he said. “I don’t much care if you haven’t raised a city or built a palace. I want to know how your life has been. Are you happy in Lindon? What sort of things do you do there?”

Elrond forced a smile, recognising that he was on the brink of self-pity once again. It took a deep sigh to drag him out of the mood. “I’m quite happy,” he answered. “I live a fairly modest, ordinary life there, though. Your would probably fall asleep, were I to tell you every detail of my day.” Elros laughed kindly and placed a hand on Elrond’s shoulder for a moment, his expression urging him to continue.

“I built myself a workshop by Gil-galad’s house,” Elrond went on. “And eventually I shall have a library there. I’m only building my collection at the moment. I have done some research into the arts of healing and endeavour some day to produce a catalogue of herbs that can be used to tend the body. I only work upon elves at the moment, but some day I wish to study the ailments of men too.” He shrugged. “So that is my life, really. I potter, experiment, scribble down my thoughts. Occasionally Gil-galad calls upon me for an opinion on some matter, but that happens only rarely, since we live in peace at present, and may the Valar allow us to continue so.”

“May it be,” echoed Elros.

Elrond smiled awkwardly, his confidence returning somewhat, although the shock of their meeting still rattled through him. “I also recently decided to set down some of our history, so that there might be a tangible record. It’s very rough at the moment. But that is how I spend most of my time. As I said, rather boring.”

“My son would not think it so. Vardamir spends a good deal of his time reading and writing. He has some knowledge of the plants here, a great interest in them in fact. He has a fascination for the trees and flowers given to us, in watching them grow and adapt to our soil, and in finding their uses. You two would have much in common. I do hope you’ll remain friends.”

“I look forward to it,” answered Elrond. He knew Elros was trying to put him at ease, unaware that he was pointing out the very inadequacies that Elrond had fretted over, and told himself that he should be glad. His brother was obviously trying to mend the divide between them, for whatever reason. He reminded himself that he wanted the same thing. He wanted to look upon Elros again as a beloved sibling. However awkward he felt, he knew he had to suppress it. He smiled again. “It’s strange to think I have family.”

“Six great-nieces and nephews,” Elros told him proudly. “You’ll have generations of my line clamouring for the affections of their favourite uncle. Have you any of your own?”

Elrond shook his head.

“Married?”

“No,” said Elrond, pulling himself up straighter as he sat.

“Leaving it late,” remarked Elros. “Or do you have so many women fighting for your hand that you find it hard to choose?”

“No one seems particularly interested in my hand. Or any other part of me for that matter.”

“Then they must be blind, in body and in spirit. For my brother is almost as handsome as I am.” He kept his expression serious but flicked a glance towards Elrond, just in time to see him draw in breath to protest, before he realised he was being teased. Elrond almost looked ready to laugh, but the gesture died before it could manifest properly.

“I’m quite content as I am,” he said, while his tone betrayed his real sentiment. Elros’ heart sank a little, sensing the loneliness already gripping his brother.

“Well,” Elros breathed, “if you are ever in need of family and you still refuse to start your own, you will always find a welcome here.”

Elrond rose slowly and went over to the fountain, where he stood gazing into the water, watching the lamplight paint the surface with flecks of gold. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the welcome, Elros,” he sighed.

“Only you’re wondering why it’s taken me so long to offer it?” finished Elros. “I can still read your eyes, brother. I thought perhaps we might have changed so much that we would be strangers, but it is not the case.”

Elrond turned to face him, folding his arms. “I’m glad you asked me here,” he answered. “Even if I don’t understand why, suddenly, you decided to do so.”

“I will not deny that the decision was an arduous one. After all this time, I did wonder if there might be nothing left to salvage. Yet I hoped this was not the case, and I owed it to myself, as much as to my family, to try and recover our bond.”

“So what now do you want from me?”

Elros stood and held out his hands. “I want nothing from you, save to include you in my kin as I ought to have done from the outset. I know we cannot undo what happened between us on the shores of Lindon. What was said was said, and none can change that. You may never come to agree with my choice, and that is your right. But I no longer wish it to come between us. I for one am sorry for my words. They were spoken out of frustration for the most part. I propose that we abandon the feud, and commit what time there is left to living as brothers once more.”

Elrond faltered, taken aback at hearing these words at last. “You know I would want the same,” he admitted, “but…this is rather sudden, you’ll admit. We’ve spoken not a word in almost five hundred years.”

“I know. Elrond, I have my reasons. Believe me, I have thought long and hard on what passed between us, examined each word. Now, we have spent so many years at odds with one another, let us try tonight to start anew.”

Elrond stared thoughtfully at him and shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

“Things have happened, Elrond,” said Elros gravely. “Let us say simply that I know the full extent of what is to come. I will not be at odds with you any longer.”

He stood waiting for Elrond’s reply, steeling himself and reassuring himself that he had thought this through and that he saw the glimmer of longing in Elrond’s eyes. Elrond wanted to forgive him just as he wanted to forgive Elrond, he told himself.

Elrond glanced away. He shuffled on the spot and breathed uneasily. “I have no desire to feud with you,” he said at last. “In all my life, I have only wanted you by my side as my brother. But perhaps I find it harder to forget than you do. I cannot simply put aside all that was said at your request, in the space of a moment, however much I want to. Perhaps because I was as much to blame as you were. It is easy to forgive you, Elros, but harder still is to forgive myself.”

“Then would you agree, if not to reconcile with me right now, to at least spend some time in my company, since you are here? Let us speak nothing more of this matter tonight. I have given you much to think about, and I am still overjoyed at seeing you again. We shall enjoy the feast, and you may have time to contemplate. But know that even if you decide you cannot forgive the past, my welcome still extends.”

Elrond nodded solemnly.

Elros placed his hand on Elrond’s shoulder. “Come,” he said. “The light’s failing and my family will be growing impatient. They do so want to meet you.”


II

410 years earlier

Elros burst from the tent so rapidly that the canvas fluttered and trembled in his wake. He charged down the dune, brushed by dry grass and sea breezes, and scrambled to the beach, where his feet found better purchase on the rounded pebbles and shale.

“Elrond, will you wait!”

Elrond was already by the water’s edge, hurrying along the thick, darkened sand, moving so quickly that he left only the faintest of footprints. Elros sneered, his way of controlling the rising anger and concern brewing inside him.

“Elrond!” he yelled again. He rushed through a flock of white seagulls pecking at the seaweed and sent them cawing into a frenzy overhead. Elrond paused, hearing the sound and looked over his shoulder, his expression dark and implacable. Elros kept running until there was only a yard or so between them, then he halted to regard Elrond in return, shaking his head as he tried to understand.

“Will you listen to me?” he implored.

Elrond folded his arms and turned away, walking off along the shore. The sea lapped against him, soaking the hem of his robes and the suede of his boots. Elros followed.

“I will not beg you for a moment of your time! You are my brother!”

“Is that so?” asked Elrond, turning fiercely upon him. “Forgive me, but given what you have just said, I wondered if you wouldn’t rather sever your bonds with us completely.”

“Elrond, you are being foolish. If you would only stop for a moment and listen to me, rather than bursting into a flurry of indignation, you might understand what I am trying to tell you.”

“I understand perfectly, Lord of the Edain. You no longer wish to associate yourself with me or my kind.”

“That is not what I said at all.” Elros sighed and rubbed his brow. “This decision is hard enough without your childishness, Elrond. This does not concern you.”

“Does not concern me? My brother would rather die than live by my side…”

“You know better than that,” Elros reproached him, standing rigid with his shoulders back. Elrond relented slightly but maintained a pout of displeasure.

“Why, Elros?” he asked. “If…if it were a question of love, I could understand, but what will you gain from this? A kingdom? You would throw away the life of the Eldar for glory?”

Elros shook his head. “For a chance at a life that suits me. Too long have I lived in pretence, Elrond. This has never been the way for me. I have never been truly one with the Eldar. That alone is at the bottom of my choice. I can create my own life, as it stands. I can shape my fate, rather than relying on the destiny of Arda to rule me. I say not that it is a foul thing to live like the Eldar but only that it is not for me, can’t you understand that?”

“But why?” asked Elrond again. “What have we done to you? Why would you hate us so, that you can no longer bear to live amongst us?”

“It is not that way,” Elros sighed. “Please, Elrond, I can barely explain to you, for I cannot express it in words in my own mind. Only know that I bear you no ill, nor the elves and their ways. Yet I know I shall never be happy if I stay here in Lindon. The Valar have given us a gift. I have sat with the Edain and listened to the teachings of Ëonwë with them. I have felt the anticipation in their hearts, fresh as the wind that brought the nine ships to these shores. The Edain will make a journey that marks a new era. They have a new land, and a chance to start afresh, forsaking the sorrow of the Elder Days.” He held himself very straight and glanced towards the sea. “And they would trust me with the future of that fledgling nation. Can’t you see what grace is given me? Of all the heroes of the former age, of all the warriors and sages of the Edain, the Valar have chosen me to do this. And I shall not fail them. When the Valar summon us, we will sail to Númenorë. My choice is made, Elrond, there is no going back now. I only hoped you might offer your support. Out of love if not from agreement.”

“You speak of love,” shouted Elrond as Elros began to head back to the tents and huts that gave temporary shelter to the Edain. “Yet you would leave me. As always, I have been forgotten. Am I so loathsome, that none of my kin can bear to be with me? My parents are but a dream to me, faces I distantly recall. Maglor left without a backwards glance and now you? What is to become of me, when you sail to your new and wondrous realm? I shall drift on through eternity until at last I fade, remembered by no one. So do not speak to me of love. If you prize the Edain and their ways above me and above our history, then go. Do not look back.”

“I commit no evil by my choice!” yelled Elros. “Do not burden me with that! This is not about you, Elrond, it is about my life!”

“Then go. Enjoy your life. Do not let me stand in your path.”

Elrond raced off, disappearing around the curve of the bay. He climbed a rock and sat on a ledge, dusted by dry sand, hidden from sight yet with a view across the sea. He hugged his knees to his chest and buried his face in his arms, remaining there, curled and weeping, until the sun sank into the rippling ocean.

He lay on the ledge, shivering as the night fell and the cold sharpened, but eventually his eyes closed and sleep overtook him. He did not dream, and when at last the morning light forced him to awaken, he felt as shaken and exhausted as when he had lain down. He passed the early hours thinking deeply, furious at his own selfishness and cursing himself that he could not learn to stay silent. Yet no matter how often he told himself he should accept Elros’ decision, he still brooded, the world closing in around him to show him just how alone and insignificant he really was.

He sniffed and dabbed at his eyes, and only then noticed that a star shone brightly above the oceans, its light so great that even with the sun risen and daylight spread across the clouds, its gleam still painted the undulating waters a pure and beautiful silver.

As he stood he saw the ships, which had sat prepared, awaiting the call of the Valar, set forth at last in the direction of that light. He could not see Elros, as the ships were too far for him to make out individual faces on the decks, but he knew that his brother was amongst those departing. Elros hadn't even sought him out to say goodbye.

Elrond lowered his head and slowly walked along the lonely road towards the Havens.

“What is wrong with me?” he whispered through his tears. “Why must they all leave?”

“Would you care for some more?”

Elrond jerked out of his reverie and found a bottle beneath his nose. He glanced up at Vardamir and saw him smile, evidently waiting for an answer to a question Elrond hadn't heard.

“Sorry?”

“Have you enough to drink?”

“Oh,” said Elrond and waved the bottle away with a smile. The feasting hall rattled with voices, laughter and music, a fog of people surrounding Elrond, all with familiar faces. Elros’ family filled the table, chattering and giggling excitedly amongst themselves, their eyes darting towards Elrond every few seconds. He could vaguely remember some of their names, but there were so many that most were a blur.

Elros meanwhile observed everything slyly, staying very close to his brother and yet maintaining a respectful distance through unobtrusive conversation. Above all he wanted Elrond to reach the right decision and he was determined not to intimidate him, however eager he was to gain his brother’s trust once more.

He saw the distracted, slightly forlorn glimmer in Elrond’s eyes and guessed the subject matter of his thoughts. Strangely Elros no longer felt awkward or apprehensive when he looked upon him, although a faint whisper of sorrow remained in his heart, weakly taunting him that Elrond might never come back to him. He remained calm, however, as he now knew he had tried, and that there was nothing more he could do to win Elrond’s love.

Finally the feast drew to its conclusion and the energy waned as the company drifted off towards their beds. Midnight had sailed past unnoticed, and as Elros and Elrond stepped out of the hall they were greeted by an unexpected blast of chilly night air.

Elrond remarked that Elros had not yet left his side, and walked with him to his room. They passed along the lofty halls and corridors, stepping through the shadows where the lamps had not yet been lit or did not reach. Elros stayed silent and Elrond recognised that he was being offered a chance to think. He was glad of it, since he had been unable to pull himself from his memories all evening.

He cringed as he remembered that day and recalled the whining tone of his voice. He had not realised just how much older he was, and how much wiser, until he found himself looking upon the scene again. The memory gnawed at him all throughout their walk, as they ascended the stairwell within the tower towards Elrond’s chamber. He knew how foolish and how self-pitying he had acted, and was still acting in fact. That was what irked him most, that despite all his wisdom and years, he had stepped into his brother’s company and become a selfish youth again. He knew he should fight against the urges. He had to make a formidable effort to remember who he was and what he was, and to let that status give him the confidence to turn things his way. Elros wanted peace between them, and when Elrond examined himself properly, he knew that he wanted the same.

As they reached the door to his room, Elrond turned and stood in Elros’ path. He copied Elros’ usual practise of drawing in a slow, deep breath to steady himself, and then pulled himself to his full height. “Must you go, or would you stay with me a while? I take it your hospitality extends to your cellars?”
Elros laughed. “Of course. There ought to be a bottle of some rather good wine from Nísimaldar in there already.”

They drifted inside and Elros poured out the wine from a crystal decanter. Elrond wandered to the fire and stood calmly by the roaring blaze, sighing as he controlled the tension welling inside him. Strangely, however, he no longer felt nauseous or uneasy. In fact he almost felt like laughing, and when he finally turned to Elros, he wore a broad and benevolent smile. Despite his composure, Elros showed a spark of intrigue and alarm at the change in his brother’s stance.

“I thought tomorrow,” said Elros, “we might head out of the city. Let you see a little more of the kingdom. By far the most beautiful parts are its hidden spots. I know of many.”

“I should like that very much,” replied Elrond. They paused and considered each other, then both began to speak at the same instant. Elros laughed.

“Please, go on,” he said.

Elrond smiled distantly and leaned on the mantelpiece. “What I would say is only that I appreciate your words to me earlier. It cannot have been easy to call me here. No more than it was easy for me to answer your request. And since I arrived, I have been somewhat awkward, and I would ask that you forgive me.”

“I think we both have said and done too many things,” sighed Elros.

Elrond frowned thoughtfully and clasped his goblet in both hands, wandering a little across the room. “I need no time for contemplation, Elros. Of course I would want to consider you my brother again. I came here with that hope in my heart, for that reason alone.”

“Good,” said Elros. “Good, then tomorrow we can spend the day without this shadow over us.”

Elrond nodded. “I have behaved appallingly towards you, both in the past and on this day.” Before Elros could protest, he smiled and went on, “I know that you thought it of me then. A spoiled child who refused to see that what you were doing had consequences beyond me and my life. You’re right, Elros. It is easy to say that now. It is easy to see that now. I understand…” He studied the contents of his wine goblet with a distant smile. “…How tiresome I was in my youth. Unfortunately some of that has stayed with me. Perhaps that is a consequence of my choice.”

“I loved you nevertheless,” laughed Elros. “Though you did strain me at times.”

“If I have behaved unkindly to you and your children since I arrived here, then I offer my apologies. Perhaps, seeing you, I forgot just who I really am, and that I am no longer that youth.” He sighed and returned his gaze to the cup. “I gave great thought to that day, though it embarrasses me to remember my conduct, I must say. One thing though that I must say to you, before we try to end this strife.”

“Name it.”

“That day, when you sailed to Númenor. There was one thing I regretted most of all, and the one embarrassment that prevented me from contacting you myself – after all, it would have been far easier for me to come by Círdan’s ships than it was for you to send word. I am truly sorry that I was not there to see you go. In my heart, despite our quarrel, I wanted to be with you when you started on your journey. Only I slept beyond the dawn, and when I awoke, (in rather a sorry condition having spent the night on a rock), you had already left, and your ships were too far distant for my voice to reach you. Yet I called out all the same and wished that Ulmo would take you safely to your new shores.”

Elros blinked and straightened then laughed dryly. “I had hoped that was the case,” he said, smiling. “My anger told me you had stayed away out of spite. It seems my heart on the other hand knew the truth all along.”

Elrond returned his smile and looked away. “Well then I have said it. That Gil-galad’s chief advisor was once stubborn, spoiled and stupid.”

“Was once?” said Elros, then the brothers laughed together. “Well, the king of Númenor could be said to be no better. Why do we not agree to forget all this?”

“I shall drink to that.”

They stayed together for a few hours more, until the wine was fully drained, and they talked freely for the first time since their reunion. No detail of either life was spared. Finally as dawn’s light spread across the skies outside and the last stars began to fade, Elros got up and headed for the door.

“Well,” he said, “if we are going to see some of the country today, then I had better rally up my staff and have horses made ready.”

He paused once more by the door and sighed, a wide grin spreading for a moment over his lips. “You cannot know how glad this has made me, brother. Things are complete now.”

The strange tone in his voice made Elrond sit a little straighter as he watched his brother go. Rising and turning in a swift movement, Elrond peered out of his window and saw Elros cross the square below. He paused when he reached the centre and gazed for a long time at the buildings and sculptures, and Elrond realised what his instincts were trying to tell him. He sighed deeply and cursed himself for not seeing it sooner.

“So that is why you want me here,” he muttered to himself.