Elrond had not felt so helpless to stop another’s pain since he had watched his wife suffer after Orcs had attacked her and he had been unable to soothe more than the violation of her hroa. How many tears, pleas and prayers to Ilúvatar he had poured out in the silence of the iaun, how much grief and rage that he could only heal her hroa, but was helpless to comfort her fëa which was torn even worse. It had been as though she was bleeding to death in front of him and though his own hands were soaked as he tried to staunch it, he could not.

You knew this would happen, Adar, that he would claim the Ring?

Yes, My child. And he knew it also. He did not wish to, but it grew on him just as My grace grew to counter it. His fëa fed on both.

You know all the errors we will make from all time?

Yes.

How can you bear it?

If there was an answer, Elrond did not hear it over the jubilation of Gollum who danced about with his treasure and in his joy, fell over the edge and tumbled into the Fire. The Ring melted and the Elf-lord felt the loss of it through his own ring. He sighed and only then became aware of the arms around him and sank into that comfort.

“The Quest has been achieved,” he breathed to his sons. He trembled at the cost of it.

He turned his attention back inward, back to his brothers. He listened as Frodo and Sam spoke to each other. He felt Sam’s joy surge through him as the loyal servant beheld his beloved master’s eyes now free of strain and madness. Sam held his brother’s bleeding hand to his breast and mourned that he had nothing with which to comfort it.

Frodo smiled wearily at his beloved guardian. “I am glad you are with me. Here at the end of all things.”

“Yes, I am with you, Master. And you’re with me. And the journey’s finished. But after coming all that way I don’t want to give up yet. It’s not like me, somehow, if you understand.”

“Maybe not, Sam, but it’s like things are in the world. Hopes fail. An end comes. We have only a little time to wait now. We are lost in ruin and downfall, and there is no escape.”

“Well, Master, we could at least go further from this dangerous place here, from this Crack of Doom, if that’s its name. Now couldn’t we? Come, Mr. Frodo, let’s go down the path at any rate!”

“Very well, Sam. If you wish to go, I’ll come.”

Elrond marveled that the younger hobbit’s stubborn optimism and cheer could withstand even the heat, fumes and the hot ash that rained down on them. When they could go no further, they settled onto a small island to await the end. Frodo’s face was beautiful and peaceful.

I am glad they are together, Adar. That is the way it should be for two quitin fëar. But still it is bitter. Why does it have to end this way?

It is not the end, My child. Has not anything you have seen and heard yet brought you to believe that Panthael’s heart is what I have fashioned to be? Hold onto his hope, if you have no more of your own.