Tenn’ Ambar-Metta by Fiondil  

I didn't realise that I was holding my breath until the very end, what a build up. I wonder what argument they had, but the regret on both sides is so immensely palpable. It feels to me that Elros managed to move beyond it, whereas for Elrond reality just sank in. Most of all I love the ending, I love how Elros goes out with his son and grandson to meet his people for that last time, as if he would want to say goodbye to his great family gathered outside on the square. That image will stay with me for a while.

This was an entertaining read.

I think I've spotted a typo in your author's notes, though. If Gil-galad was Fingon's son, he and Elrond would be first cousins twice removed, not thrice: Gil-galad would have been Idril's first cousin. He would have therefore been Earendil's first cousin once removed, and Elrond's and Elros' first cousin twice removed.

That's a minor niggle, though, against the enjoyment of the rest of the story. I only point it out because I'm certain that you'd want to correct it.

Very poigniant and touching. I enjoyed most hearing about Elros' wife and children. How hard it must have been for Elrond to say goodbye to his brother. I liked the ending very much

It was a very beautiful story. Reading so much about Elrond and Elros lately has made me really think about how hard it must have been, and their reasons for choosing as they did, and how the decision affected the other. You do a very lovely job of showing this interplay, and I particularly liked the ending. It reminded me that, at first, they lay down their lives when it was time. What an amazing concept of being ready and content with what you've done! Thanks for a great story.

Copy of my MEFA review:

This is a very moving story. It gets an especial poignancy from the fact that Fiondil has taken the statement that Veantur was the first to sail back from Numenor to Middle-earth and made this the first contact between Numenor and Lindon after Elros’s death. Other stories on this theme that I’ve read have either assumed that Elrond and Elros were in telepathic contact (because they were twins or because of Elrond’s powers) or that Elvish mariners were sailing back and forth between Lindon and Numenor (or rather stopping at Numenor on their way to and fro from Tol Eressea). Thus, the loss of contact between Elrond and Elros after Elros’s departure is absolute, and this is the more painful, because in this version of the story Elrond clearly resented his departure. Their only chance of achieving closure is the penning of a letter that Elros cannot be entirely sure his brother will ever receive (although, in fact, he seems to be remarkably confident that Elrond will do so eventually). When Elrond does receive it, the fact that his brother has died is such a shock that it takes some time to sink in that, in fact, his brother died so long ago that in Numenorean terms another lifetime has passed; clearly for Elrond, living the life of the Eldar, the likelihood that Elros would have died by this time was by no means obvious. The pain is mitigated by the lovingly depicted supportive environment that Elrond, despite his early losses, now enjoys at Mithlond and, for the reader, by the fact that Elrond is apparently well on his way in his career as a healer. It is also mitigated by the success that Elros has made of his life in Numenor and the contentment he has achieved. The latter, however, is somewhat overshadowed by the knowledge that Elros’s achievements will in the end be ruined and lost by his descendants, because they themselves cannot be content the way he managed to be.