10. A hope fulfilled

Autumn 3021 T. A. / 1 F. A.

Back and forth. Back and forth. The waves reach the shore with a steady rhythm, white crests of foam breaking on the white sand. I wait. It seems the longest waiting in my life. Not even in the moments when I waited before the gates of Ilmarin to look into the faces of the Powers, did I feel thus. Back and forth. Back and forth. The waves sing their song. And with every tone the ship carrying my son is nearer to the shores of Eldamar. Elwing has flown ahead already, a white gull hurrying to greet the arriving ship. But I wait. For once I am the one who is waiting in the harbour for a ship to arrive, and suddenly I understand all the wives and mothers of mariners. Back and forth. Waiting in the rhythm of waves. Soon I will see my son...

-oOo-

The light of Gil-Estel was dimmed that night. Slowly, the waves of the sea quieted their wrath, but the island of Númenor was no more. Long had Eärendil looked down on the place where the white streets and singing fountains used to be, and gardens full of flowers. He had led the ships to Elenna himself, showing them the way to the island with his light... Now the blue depths swallowed everything, the vast horizons of his beloved sea. Cruel, cruel sea... He looked down and wept.

The shape of the world had changed, and he watched with horrified fascination as the sea beneath him receded and circled into itself, while the land of Valar remained where it had ever been, distant and unreachable. But his ship did not sail the earthly seas, but followed the direct way and landed in Valinor, at the place where the fleet of Ar-Pharazôn had landed not even a day before. Now, a new hill stood there, a quiet mass that looked like it had been standing since the beginning of time. But beneath the hill, the last king of Númenor with his army slept a dreamless sleep until the end of ages. Or did they dream? Nobody would know. And nobody would ask them any more.

Eärendil went ashore and knelt in the white sand. While Arien was rising on the sky, he remained there, unmoving, while the waves behind him sang their song, so peaceful now after the horror that they had caused. Back and forth... He stood up, and walked without looking back. He did not stop, nor slow under the hot summer sun. Only at the gates of Ulmo's palace in Valmar did he stop, refusing to acknowledge that the Vala only seldom dwelt there. He knocked mightily at the pearl gate, just one question burning in his mind.

"How could you?" he cried out, and hammered at the gate with his fists. "How could you?" He repeated the question over and over, accompanying every blow. "How could you?" The gate yielded, and it was something else that he was striking now, but he did not stop, not even when he realized that it felt like fish scales... Somebody was holding him, but he refused to look up and acknowledge the presence, lost in his own world of blind grief.

"How could you?" the question became a sob, and the punches weakened and died. He found himself in an embrace, calm and strong like the Sea.

No answer came, just a soothing presence, reminding him of the calling of the endless blue horizon... and suddenly he realized just who it was he had punched. His head spun, and then things became muddled and he was sinking, sinking into the cold depths where strange things live and the pressure crushes everything that dares to dive so deep... it was dark and calm there... timeless... he was so tired... sinking… sinking deeper and deeper, but he did not struggle. All feelings seeped into the dark waters, leaving only emptiness inside. Calm and dark nothingness, like in a mother's womb – no colours, no memories, no names...

Light seeped through his closed eyelids, painting them red. He was lying on something soft, and there was no pressure but fresh air around him. He did not want to open his eyes; just stay in the tempting nothingness. But the memories already hovered on the edge of his mind, returning inevitably like a stone thrown up after reaching the highest point of its ascent. With a sigh, he opened his eyes. Someone was leaning over him, an ageless face, rough but kind...

"L...L-l-lord Ulmo..." he stuttered as he remembered everything. Everything... The island, the Sea, the people... He sat up wildly, and ignored the spinning world. "How could you?" he asked again, clearly and with a trace of accusation. "There were people..."

The Vala sighed, and he looked just like any Man or Elf in that moment. He did not say anything, offered no explanation, no apology.

Eärendil was shaking, but he did not avert his eyes, blue like the sea that was Ulmo's realm. The silence stretched, and the tension between them grew. Surprisingly, the Vala was the one who averted his eyes first.

"We did not want this..." Ulmo whispered, and Eärendil took a sharp intake of breath at the helplessness of those words. We did not want this... But it happened. The proud island of Númenor was no more, and Valinor was taken from the circles of the world, out of mortal reach and temptation. We did not want this, but there was no other way...

Eärendil hid his face in his palms. Suddenly he realized that he does not feel anger any more. It was gone from his heart, washed away by the dark and cold waters. Just the memory of it lingered in his mind, made him accuse the Valar. But there was nobody to accuse. Just the pride of Men... Why did he come here? Once he followed Ulmo's voice. He trusted him when he crossed the vast seas. He always heard the song of the sea in his veins, rising and ebbing like a tide in his blood. Yet this was the first time that he had come here. Even now, he was still in awe of the Valar, and did not seek them willingly, not even the one who had been always kind to Men, and a guide to the sailors...

"You have never come here..." Ulmo's quiet words echoed his thoughts, but there was no accusation in them, just sadness.

Eärendil kept his gaze on his own hands.

"I awaited you..." the Vala sighed. "Someone else awaits you also..."

Someone else? Eärendil looked up in confusion. Who else could await him?

Ulmo did not say anything more, but he gestured to the door in the corner of the room. As if of their own will, they opened, and revealed a corridor.

Eärendil looked at the door and at the Vala, but he received no further explanation. He stood up tentatively, and walked to the door. The corridor behind them was short, just a few steps, and behind the corner, another room opened.

Eärendil froze in place. He recognized that room. It did not seem to belong to Ulmo's palace. It looked too ordinary, but in the same time, so very familiar. Just like the rooms in the house of his parents in the Havens of Sirion. And it was not empty...

"Mother?" he asked when he found his voice. Those golden curls could not belong to anyone else, and yet he could not believe it.

She stood up, and turned, an expression of disbelief on her face. "Eärendil!" she cried out with joy. In the next moment he found himself in her embrace, and it was just like he remembered it, as if not centuries, but mere day were between this moment and the one when she had given him her farewells together with the green stone.

"I asked for you, but nobody told me anything..." he explained to her shakily. "Lady Yavanna said that I ask too much, and the purpose of my journey was to deliver a plea for help, not to find my parents..."

She held him gently, and there was an echo of a sigh in her voice. "You never came here..."

Another hand touched his shoulder, and he looked up in surprise. His eyes met another, just as blue as his.

"We dwelt with our Lord since we reached the Blessed Realm. We heard rumours about your journey, and expected to see you when you come to pay tribute to him. I was allowed to live only in his dwelling," said Tuor.

"Father..." Eärendil breathed out in awe. "But... I thought you are dead..."

"When we reached Valinor, I was counted with the Firstborn, at a request of my lord Ulmo, but only as long as I remain in his halls..."

Eärendil closed his eyes, unable to speak. All the time they have been here... If he had just come... But it had taken the drowning of the entire island to force him to seek out lord Ulmo in anger – and receive pity in return, and a gift, delayed for his own stubbornness. He blamed the Valar for hiding the fate of his parents from him – but for the entire time, it was he who just had to reach out, and come to them to learn about it. Did he learn nothing from his journey? He did not come for himself, but to ask for help for all Ilúvatar's children dwelling in Middle-earth. That was the reason that moved the hosts of Valar. And so he had to find his parents also – not coming for the desire of his own heart, but for another, unselfish reason. If he would ever come to pay tribute to the Vala who has guided him and his father so often, he would find them. But in his awe and fear to bother the Powers, he did not come. Today, finally, he came – not for himself, but for the people of Númenor, however proud and overbearing – and so he found what he longed for.

He had parents again...

-oOo-

Back and forth. The waves sing on the sand, and with every rhythm of the song the white ship is nearing. It can already be seen in the bay, the sails just as big as the gulls crying in the port. It is growing, coming nearer and nearer, carried by the blue waves of Ulmo's sea. Soon it will land. Soon I will see my son. Soon...

Ropes are thrown from the ship to the pier, and secured safely. This time, I am not the one to throw the rope, nor secure it. The movements are so familiar, the smells, the feelings – the salty breeze, and the slight roll of the ship on the waves when the ropes are being tightened, the first step on the firm ground... Yet this time, I am not the one experiencing them. I just watch and wait. Just watch and wait, as the plank is lowered from the ship, and all hold their breath, expecting who will be the first to set foot on the soil of the Undying Lands. Watch and wait...

White light shimmers on the water. For a moment, I see a powerful flame, burning like an encouraging light in the hearts of those who look at it. Then the light abates, and there is a figure in white robes, old and yet not old, looking at the beauty of the Undying land with the eyes of one who has seen death. Tears are in his eyes, as he lifts his face to feel the wind from Taniquetil on it. Olórin returned home...

He turns, and smiles at the two figures following him, to encourage them. They are small like children, and their step is as light as the leaves of wheat stroking the warm soil as their bare feet touch the white sand, stumbling slightly on the firm ground after spending weeks on the Sea. I do not see this time, but I feel it – the light that one of them bears in him, that one that remains from a pure spirit when everything else is swallowed by darkness. It resonates with the light in the phial he is bearing, hidden now, but I sense it, because it's the light of hope – my light... I am honoured that I could be a part of this tale. He would not recognize me, but I smile at him as our eyes meet. I smile, and I bow to the Ringbearer. Praise them with great prise!

The air shimmers, and I feel a Presence. The Valar are here... Unclad they came to greet the ones arriving, not receiving honours, but giving them with their presence. From a gust of wind, a tall figure steps out, like from a door, and a next one appears as a shining point in the air - a living star whose rays give shape to the figure of a beautiful woman. The Elder King came with his Queen to greet those who saved Middle-earth, but found no place for themselves in it any more.

"Welcome, Frodo and Bilbo Baggins," the Queen of Stars speaks with a voice like silver bells.

For a moment, they just look at the kingly pair, at a loss for words. But then the older one – Bilbo - bows hastily, nudging the younger one to do the same. "At the service of yours and your family, my lord and lady," he answers, and Frodo echoes him with "At your service..."

The Lord of Winds smiles warmly. "Welcome home..." he says, and then he turns to all who stand before him, and to all those on the ship. To them all belong his words…

Olórin bows his head gratefully, looking with love at his lord. It lasts only for a moment, and there are no words, but I know they are speaking together, telling more in a blink of an eye than with days of words. And then I see Manwë, the lord of Valar, embracing his returning Maia. In the next moment I must wonder if what I saw was real, for the Valar faded into the clean air just as they appeared, and Olórin leads to hobbits to their new home. A great white horse follows him, trotting with his head lifted proudly, clearly glad to have stable ground under the hooves again.

But I turn to the ship again, because the one I'm expecting has not entered the pier yet. Another passenger leaves the ship, walking with a slow step. I see white again, but it is not a proud, radiant white. It is a simple colour, humble, and yet solemn, like the colour of wisdom. An elven woman walks down the pier, looking uncertain, as if she is not sure if someone will be expecting her. I have been told about her departure, nearly three ages ago. She had been proud then, looking for a realm where she could rule herself, away from anyone who would tell her what to do – a queen she wanted to be, powerful and magnificent.

It was Artanis Nerwen who entered a ship to Middle-earth. It is Galadriel who returns. She passed the test of her own pride, and remained herself – and so she returns: not a queen, but a simple woman who knew both suffering and love, who knew that ruling means serving and protecting, knew grief for a land caught in a stream of time. She did not find power in Middle-earth. She found herself.

Now she looks around at the shores of her home, dignified and solemn as her bare feet touch the white sand, and yet there is uncertainty in her. Slow steps sound behind me, and from her look, I know it is the one whom she long and yet feared to see. Her father...

Finarfin walks forwards slowly, and stops before her. They are looking at each other for a few moments, without a movement, without a word. I know he has been waiting for this while too, waiting with hope and a little anxiety for the meeting with his daughter. How much did she change? Will he recognize her? Now they stand near each other, but the Sea is still between them, and they have to cross it themselves.

She takes a shaky breath, and bows deeply. "Forgive me, father..." she whispers.

Finarfin doesn't move for a moment yet, but compassion is in his eyes, imagining what his daughter had to go through to become what she is now. He lifts her up. "My child..." he breathes out, and embraces her tightly. "You returned..."

She smiles through tears. "Yes, father... I'm home again..."

Oh, how I long to hear that word from my own son... How long have I waited for this moment... But I am even more anxious than Finarfin. It was me who left, and my sons were just little boys in that time. Will he know me? But how could he? The only sight of his father he could have when growing up was a distant light in the dark sky. I watched him every night, but I am a stranger to him. Now, finally, I will be able to speak to him, to touch him... but will he allow it to me? For a moment I almost want it to be like before – to watch and hope. Now, after all the centuries, one short moment can crush that hope, and I'm suddenly afraid. If I lose that hope now, what will be left for me? What will be left of me, of Gil-Estel? Mere moments divide me from seeing my son, and I don't know if I would like them to be over already, or if I would rather stop the time, and remain with hope, but nothing more.

But the time does not stop. You are here. You stand on the pier, looking just like I know you from my lonely watches, and yet different, because this time, I'm not just a watcher. I can reach to you. Just a few steps divide us, but you are the one who has to make them. I have no right to that any more. You have to decide, if I will remain just a watcher forever... Oh Eru, give me strength in this moment...

You make a few steps, and then stop. Your eyes are searching the small crowd on the shore. Behind you, I see Elwing, but she remains quiet, and gives you no clue. Your sight stops at me for a moment, but then it wanders further without recognition. Oh, my son…. I knew you will not recognize me... And yet it feels like a dagger in my heart. I stand still, but inside, I feel my light dying.

Ah... Suddenly I realize. The decision did not fall yet. It is not me who you are looking for... Of course it is not me! The distance I cannot cross, someone else can. Celebrían runs to meet you! She laughs happily, and the laughter is in her eyes also – what a difference to the broken woman, with hair like weeping silver, that arrived on a grey ship years ago. But in this moment, her healing is complete, and what was separated is whole again.

Long you stay in each other's embrace. Every moment prolongs my uncertainty, but I am happy for you both. Finally, you separate, with a promise of all the remaining ages of the world together that I can read in your eyes. Slowly you let go of her hand, searching through the crowd again. Will you miss me, or will your look stop? And if you recognize me, what then? Am I your father still?

The time stretches. And then... your eyes turn to me. You make a step. Another...

You stand before me. If I would reach my hand, I could touch you, feel you with my fingers. My hands are shaking, but still I do not move. I wait. I wait just for one word...

"Father..." you say.

I close my eyes, while the sound of the word echoes in my mind, wanting to remember this while forever.

"My son…" The words almost get stuck in my throat with emotion, but I say them. I can't stay quiet now. Oh my son…. How long have I dreamed of this moment…. And now it has come true, and I'm almost overwhelmed by it.

"Thank you for the hope, father…" you say quietly, and I have no words for a reply, for I want to laugh and weep in the same time. I thank you for hope, my son… for the hope that just fulfilled….

Can I embrace you now? I don't know and I don't care any more. I just do it, do what I wanted to do for all those years. And you return the embrace…. Oh, behold, Valinor! I hold my son in my arms! I can touch him, I can speak to him!

I am a father again!

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A/N: Thank you very much for reading and for all reviews, and special thanks to Cairistiona for the beta! This is not the end yet - there is still one more chapter to come.