By Rhiana Larsen

Summary: I wrote this about Lord Elrond, about a woman from his past that he loved very much. I imagine he has not forgotten
her, nor her horrific death…

Author’s Note: This isn’t a Mary-Sue (I know because I measured it up against that “How To Tell If Your Story Is A
Mary-Sue” fic or whatever! :D ), just something I thought up that could have occurred in his past. It does NOT change the
canon story. Besides, how come ELROND doesn’t get any more action than he does? He ROCKS! Lol! DEATH to
Mary-Sues!!! MWAHAAHAHA- - Oh wait. *I* wrote a Mary-Sue…oh well. It’s a fic. Deal with it! Enjoy!

~*~*~*~*~*~

The early morning sun beat down upon Rivendell, waking its inhabitants from their restful slumber. Inside one of the many
gleaming buildings a tall, regal Elf Lord lay, his face seeming a thousand years younger in sleep. His features were soft,
smoothed from their lines of knowledge, for in the realm of slumber there is no need for worry.

Long locks of dark hair cascaded over the pillow and across the Elven Lord’s strong back, which shouldered so many Ages of
wisdom, worry, anger, and fear. It was a wonder that any spine could be so strong as not to crack under the pressure.

Beneath eyelids that were still lowered in homage to the land of dreams, Lord Elrond was quite awake, his mind in the place
that allowed only for happiness…

She had come to him, at last.

“Nevduriel, my love…I still rage against the tides the swept you away so brutally,” he said to himself coming to sit upon a
sun-warmed rock near a gurgling brook. The spun gold light from the sun penetrated through his long hair and illuminated a
dusty halo about him, warming his face clear through his tunic and leggings.

He knew she was here. He could feel her in the air that he breathed, for it filled him with a renewed life and strength. The scent
of wildflowers filled his senses, stronger and stronger as he felt her presence come nearer to him. She was so close that every
muscle in his body tensed, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling. “Nev…” he started, and jumped when he felt the
whispery soft touch of a hand on his shoulder. Unbidden, moisture lent a sheen to his eyes and he inhaled sharply.

“You remembered…” Her soft voice played on his mind, his memory, and images came unbidden to him of times long since
passed. He saw the two of them, embraced beside a shimmering waterfall, foreheads bent together whilst they exchanged
sweet whispers…a tender kiss, a romantic interlude, full of passion and desire…

“I could never forget,” he whispered harshly, fighting past the catch in his throat. It had been so long since she had come to him,
and he knew what it was costing her. He dared to turn around, and caught his breath at her loveliness, as bright and colorful as
he remembered her, before…

No. Those thoughts must not be entertained, not in this place of untouched beauty. She was giving him a gift, a respite from the
loneliness he endured every day. He must take pleasure in it and appreciate it, for dreams such as these could not last long.

Elrond stood and faced the young woman, gazing into her brown eyes before crushing her to him. It was so painful to look on
her face and remember what torture she had endured before passing into the after-life that he could not endure it.

“My Lord,” Nevduriel spoke softly, seeing the pain in his silver eyes. She caught his chin in her hand and tilted his face down to
hers, gazing into his eyes, eyes that were old and had seen too much. “Do not remember that. It was so long ago…even I do
not recall the events of that day.”

Elrond shook his head. “I’ll remember for the rest of my days. What they did to you…”

“No longer matters. I am happy here. Now, let us talk of better things.” She took his hand and sat down upon the grass, her
shimmery white gown spread around her ankles. He followed her, and sat, one knee up against his chest. “You have not
changed,” he commented, taking in her thick brown hair, curling about her at the ends, and her rose red lips. “There was never
a need,” Nevduriel replied, tilting her head to gaze directly at him.

Unable to bear her scrutiny, he looked away. “Something troubles you. I can feel it.” She pondered him for a moment longer,
and sighed. “I weep for your loneliness my love, but you must not overlook things. Your daughter loves you very much, who
has a great destiny in store for her. You have a noble adopted son, and a realm of people who love and adore you, and hold
you in the highest respect.”

“But you are not here to share it with me.”

“And I can never be. But here, in this place, you may always find me when you have the need, and I will come.” Nevduriel
smiled at him. “Elves are not always born destined for immortality, my love. Some of us choose our destinies before we are
even born into consciousness, for we know that our ends will allow for great things to take place. Had I not died that day, you
would not have been blessed with your lovely daughter, and then what would have become of Aragorn? No, things are best the
way they are.”

“I know…” Elrond said, closing his eyes. It was so hard to remain strong, to be counted upon by so many. He had seen much
in his many Ages since choosing to become an Elf and forsake his human life, yet he did not know all the answers to life’s
questions. “I have much to pay for, my angel.”

Nevduriel shook her head. “You love your daughter, and you are strong for her. You are strong for your people.”

“I am tired of being strong,” Elrond said, his shoulders bowing slightly under the great weight they carried. He rested his
forehead on his knee and wrapped his arm about it, closing his eyes.

“Then let me be strong for you, if only for a little while,” she whispered, wrapping her elegant arms about his form and tugging
him close to her. “Let me catch you…”

Elrond lifted his head and saw all her love for him reflected in eyes that rivaled the purest earth. Eyes that he thought never to
see again… “My bright angel…let me fall…” he said, caressing her soft lips with his own, drawing a sigh from her.

“Always…” she whispered back, and he cupped both hands about her face, following her down into the soft velvety grass…

~*~*~*~*~

Elrond awoke, lifting his head from the very soft pillow upon which it rested, and blinked in the beautiful sunlight glimmering
through the open areas of his chambers. A renewed spirit coursed through his veins, and he remembered his reverie from
moments before. “Nevduriel…” he whispered on a tortured note, still able to feel her warm skin pressed against his own. His
heart felt the loss of her all over again, but there was warmth to it, a knowledge that she would never be truly gone from him,
that allowed him to smile despite the striking pain.

As he stood and slipped on his robes, he heard a melodious voice inside his head, and closed his eyes, imprinting the dream
forever into his memory.

“Always…”

Perhaps he could be strong after all.