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Twilight Tales - Hallowed Fate	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 4698 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Meeting
- 2-Learning
- 3-Restraint
- 4-Coping
- 5-Guile
- 6-Awakening
- 7-Undoing
- 8-Musings
- 9-Sojourn
- 10-Reckoning
- 11-Illumination
- 12-Avowal
- 13-Beloved
- 14-Visitations
- 15-Tryst
- 16-Choice
- 17-Torn
- 18-Resolve
- 19-Voyage
- 20-Fate
- 15
- 16
- 17
Chapter XVI: Choice

Refreshed by a full night’s loving, Imrahil greeted the following day with good cheer and more patience than even he was known for. Despite a spate of meetings, some acrimonious enough to make even the affable Hirluin almost lose his temper, he remained in the best of moods.

What made him so amenable no one could say. The guards who had seen him take his long walk the evening before could only attest that he had returned from it way beyond the midnight hour with the brightest of eyes and the widest of smiles on his countenance. Indeed, he had been in so mellow a mood he had greeted them heartily even to addressing them by their given names.

Speculation had long risen that the prince had found another to balm his widower’s heart. But which of the fief’s comely ladies had captured his elusive affections remained a mystery and one that did not look to be solved in the near future. Imrahil had merely shrugged off the rumors and attended to his duties though deep inside, he struggled to contain his mirth that the rumors should be so far off the mark as far as the object of his affections was concerned.

It was mid afternoon before he was at last able to extricate himself from the tedium of princely chores. He retreated with relief to his study and awaited Elladan’s arrival there.

It was his private sanctum, the one place aside from his bedchamber where he could find complete respite from the daily duties his station imposed on him. No one walked in on him uninvited or unannounced when he retired to his study. As with his bedchamber, he could relax here and do as he desired, secure that nothing he wished to keep secret would escape its confines.

While he waited he peered out of the window. The view was soothing and familiar for the study overlooked the open sea. The vast expanse of blue beyond the rugged shores of Dol Amroth was in his opinion one of the most wondrous sights a man could ever hope to lay his eyes on.

Several feet below his window was a spacious enclosure strictly reserved for the royal family’s use. He grinned as he espied his grandson Alphros strolling about with his infant son on his shoulder, his lady wife beside him as they took in the salty ocean breeze. A moment later, Elphir and Amrothos and their respective wives joined them. Laughter floated up to the prince as his youngest son teased the eldest for being such a besotted grandsire. To which the eldest of course rejoined that the youngest would eat his words when his own children presented him with their whelps.

Imrahil chortled as he listened to their conversation. A warm feeling stole over him as he considered anew his good fortune in having so loving a family. Until Elladan had filled his heart once more, it was they who had kept him going after Aerin’s death. For love of his children had he soldiered on in spite of his grief.

The sound of the door opening behind him heralded a most welcome arrival. He did not turn around but waited for his Elf-mate to join him at the window. He did not wait long as a pair of arms circled his waist and a chin came to rest on his shoulder. A soft chuckle feathered his ear as the twin listened to the debate below.

“Your sons are as wicked of wit as you, Imrahil,” Elladan said.

Imrahil nodded with a laugh. “To the despair of their mother,” he remarked. “Aerin used to say that there were times she was tempted to deny they were hers!”

Elladan snickered. “And did she ever yearn to say that of you as well?”

Imrahil sighed dramatically. “More times than I care to admit,” he admitted.

“Mmm, but then she did not know just how wicked your tongue can be,” Elladan murmured. “Proper wives seldom ever know the joys of the attentions of improper husbands.”

Imrahil let out an amused snort. “Few ladies are encouraged to explore that aspect of the marriage bed,” he pointed out. “Aerin was more adventurous than most but she still had her limits.”

“While you no longer have any,” Elladan drawled.

Imrahil could not help coloring somewhat as he recalled just how far Elladan was willing to push the boundaries in love-play. Just when he thought he knew everything there was to know about coupling, the Elf would disabuse him of the notion and often vigorously at that. Shaking his head, he turned to face Elladan, a questioning gaze alighting on the twin.

“How long did you linger on the beach after I left you last night?” he inquired.

Elladan shrugged. “For an hour or so. I did not wish to give the sentries reason to speculate why we were both out there. I waited for the next shift to come on duty.”

Imrahil pursed his lips ruefully. “I am sorry,” he murmured. “If only it were permissible I would announce our relationship to all of Middle-earth.”

Elladan smiled and brushed his lips against the man’s mouth. “No apologies, Imrahil. We do what we must. What matters is that you love me.”

“Aye, that I do,” Imrahil said. “With all my heart.”

Elladan’s eyes clouded then. “As I do with mine,” he whispered. He hugged the prince a little tighter, pressing his face into the other’s shoulder.

Imrahil felt the slight alarm of the night before snake up his spine. He drew back slightly and looked into his mate’s troubled face. “Elladan? What is it that you came here to tell me?” he asked, unsure whether he wished to hear it.

The Elf bit his lip then took a deep breath. “Círdan has decided to sail for Valinor,” he whispered.

Imrahil stared at him then sharply breathed in. “Sweet Eru. When?”

“Next year come autumn. ‘Tis time enough to prepare for the journey.”

The prince leaned back against the wall, folding his arms across his chest, feeling suddenly weak. “Why now?” he queried shakily. “Do you know why?”

Elladan nodded. “He received word that his beloved has been released from the Halls of Awaiting,” he softly replied. “He no longer has reason to linger in Middle-earth when his love awaits him in Aman.”

“Then you and Elrohir must go,” Imrahil said faintly. Elladan nodded somberly. The man swallowed painfully. “I have tried to ready myself for this…” He swallowed again and glanced out the window unseeingly. “You came to say goodbye,” he whispered.

There was a pause. And then Elladan took his left hand and raised it to his lips. He shivered at the sensation of the Elf’s lips ghosting along the skin of his palm, tracing the path of the binding-scar therein.

“Whether I bid you farewell or not will depend on you,” Elladan said at last.

Imrahil looked at him, perplexed. “On me? What do you mean?”

Elladan took a moment to compose himself then said: “The night after we received Círdan’s summons, the Lady appeared to me in a dream.”

“The Lady?” Imrahil frowned. For a moment, he was nonplussed. And then it dawned on him that Elladan was not referring to Galadriel, the former Lady of the Golden Wood, but to the queen of the Valar herself. Elbereth. Remembrance of this fact swiftly led to cognizance of another.

“She had a message for you?” he ventured.

“Aye, and so improbable a message that I thought I had dreamt falsely at first,” Elladan said. “But Elrohir received the same dream as did my grandfather Celeborn.”

Imrahil’s curiosity flared. “What did the Lady show you?”

The Elf’s eyes glazed over as he remembered the details of his portentous dream. “She led me to the Halls of Awaiting. To the great chamber where are housed the spirits of men before they depart for wherever it is that men’s souls abide. I saw Manwë standing at the threshold of the chamber and Námo by his side. And before them was your foresire – Galador.”

Imrahil’s eyes widened. But he did not speak and only waited for Elladan to continue.

“Manwë asked one question of him before Galador left their presence. And then others were brought before him and the same question was repeated. Angelahâd. Inzildôr. Zimrabêth. Adramir. Edrahil. Ivoriel. Zimrakhôr...”

Imrahil’s heart beat harder and faster with each mention of a scion of his family. These lords and ladies – what was it that tied them all together? Something nagged at him.

And then it hit him. These were the men and women of his line who had borne the evidence of their elven blood most apparently. Unless struck down in battle or by illness, all had been incredibly long-lived, surviving spouses, siblings and children for many years beyond what was considered natural for mortals. And all had been slow to age, surpassingly fair of countenance and possessed of the tall and slender form most oft associated with Elves.

“What were they asked?” he inquired anxiously.

Elladan’s pewter eyes caught his gaze and held it. “They were asked if they wished to pass on beyond the circles of the world – or to be released from the Halls of Awaiting and be accounted amongst the Firstborn of Valinor.”

Imrahil gaped at him in shock. “Why?” he hoarsely asked. “What merited them this – this offer?”

“Because of Mithrellas,” came the logical answer. “Galador should have been offered the choice of the Peredhil ere he died. But the Valar had seen what the future held and could not allow his line in Middle-earth to end, a chance that was risked were he to choose immortality. Thus they withheld the choice and offered it only after he entered Mandos’ Halls.”

When Imrahil stared at him bewilderedly, he explained: “He had to sire children. To beget descendants who would perpetuate your line. You had to be born, Imrahil. And your sister’s sons had to be born.”

Comprehension limned the man’s cobalt grey eyes. “”Boromir and Faramir,” he said. “It had to do with the Quest.”

Elladan nodded. “They both had pivotal parts in it. Without Boromir’s presence, Frodo would not have left the Company of the Ring when he did and circumstances might have proven otherwise. And Faramir ensured Frodo’s survival and success when he succored him in Ithilien.”

Imrahil blew out his breath. “But what of myself?” he murmured. “Why was my birth of such import?”

Elladan raised a hand to run gentle fingers along his cheek and jaw. “Because Faramir needed you. ‘Twas your nurturing that made him the man he is today. Why he was able to let Frodo and the Ring go when others would have kept them. You stood as father to him. Guided and loved him as Denethor did not. Because of your influence on him, Faramir had the wisdom and strength to resist the Ring’s allure. Had he not, Middle-earth would not exist as we know it now.”

“I see.” Imrahil fell silent, overwhelmed by the knowledge of his own predestined place in the scheme of things. “But – what does this have to do with the choice of the Half-elven?”

Elladan’s grip on his hand tightened. “You are the last to be offered the choice.”

Imrahil nearly choked on this. “The last?” he gasped. “But what of my children? Those who will come after them?”

Elladan sadly shook his head. “Your family’s task ended with the fall of Sauron. Your destiny has been fulfilled. You are the last of your line strongly blessed with Mithrellas’ blood.” The Elf hesitated. “You are the last to be given the choice – and the first to be offered it while you still live.”

This time, Imrahil was so thunderstruck he could not remain standing but almost staggered where he stood. Elladan helped him to a chair by the window. He sank down into it, putting a trembling hand to his forehead.

“How long—?” he stammered, remembering the limits placed on Elrond’s children when they had had to make the same decision.

“You have until next autumn,” Elladan quietly answered. “You must take ship with me if you choose to be of Elfkind.”

“What?” Imrahil stared at him, stupefied. So soon! How could the Powers expect anyone to make such a decision in so short a time? “I am expected to make such a decision so quickly?” he exclaimed. “Confound it, Elladan! It took you nigh three thousand years to make your choice and you knew it was there to be made! Damn them all! Why have they given me this burden only now?”

“I do not know,” Elladan said honestly, ignoring his mate’s somewhat blasphemous utterances. Even the Valar themselves would not take exception considering the prince’s sudden straits.

Imrahil did not know whether to laugh in hysteria or weep with frustration. He began to breathe erratically in his agitation. Elladan drew close to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it soothingly.

“How can I make such a choice and so swiftly?” Imrahil said harshly. “I have never had to think on this as you and yours have. The Valar would ask me to consider leaving all that I have known and loved and decide on this in less than a year? ‘Tis folly, Elladan! I cannot choose wisely! Not like this!”

The hand on his shoulder stilled then slipped away. Imrahil stared up stricken, realizing the hurt he had unwittingly inflicted on the Elf.

“Forgive me, my heart!” he exclaimed, catching Elladan to him by his waist. “I did not mean to imply that I love you any less—”

Elladan cupped his face in his warm hands. “I know how you feel,” he softly said. “I had to make the same choice and with more time than is given you now.” He stroked the man’s cheeks tenderly with his palms. “Only you can decide what your fate must be. But whatever you choose, make it because ‘tis what you desire. Do not decide it for anyone else’s sake, not even mine. Choose for yourself, Imrahil nîn. Whatever your choice may be, I will be abide by it and love you just the same. Always.”

Imrahil drew a convulsive breath. And then he snaked his arms around Elladan’s waist and held him close. He pressed his face into the Elf’s flat belly and tried to calm himself. He felt Elladan’s hand sift through his dark hair. Loving. Balming. But for once his mate’s touch was not enough to wholly ease the turmoil in his heart and soul.

***********************

Glossary:

Imrahil nîn – my Imrahil

To be continued...
- 15
- 16
- 17
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Twilight Tales - Hallowed Fate