The Last Night: An Elros and Elrond Tale by ninerosepetal  

Elros stood at the prow of his ship, looking towards the setting sun. Not long now, he thought. His twin brother Elrond stood with him, waiting in a companionable silence, until Elros spoke:

“Can you ever forgive me?”

“For what?”

“For leaving, as our parents did.”

“Their circumstance was quite different from yours,” Elrond said. “You know that.”

Elros nodded silently. He knew.

Though Eärendil and Elwing had left the now-drowned shores of Arvernien all those years ago, they now awaited their sons in Valinor. However, once Elros set sail tonight from the Grey Havens for the newly-made island of Elenna, he would never see any of them again, either in life or death.

“And there is nothing to forgive,” Elrond continued firmly, “This is your destiny. And what of you, oh King of Men?” He elbowed his brother in the ribs, playful but gentle. “Can you forgive me for not going with you, for ‘choosing to be an Elf?’”

Elros pretended to deliberate for a moment, then he elbowed Elrond in turn.

“It is as you said, my brother; this is your destiny.” He added with a wry smile. “At least your path will make sense to other people, oh Elven Lord.”

“Half-elven,” Elrond corrected him, with a smile. Elros grinned back and gave a slight shrug, as if to say fair enough.

Though they spoke a little in jest, the brothers both knew that they could not be so easily designated Elf or Man. This was the reality of the Peredhel: to be both and neither, in a way that no one else, not even the gods, would ever understand.

“This is the last time I will see him,” Elros thought, “and this is the last time I will be truly seen.” He felt the urgent need to be silly, so that he would not burst into tears. Out loud he said, teasingly, “It’s probably just as well that I’m leaving, since I’m the only one who knows you have a sense of humor.”

“How dare you cast such aspersions on my character!” Elrond raised an eyebrow, with exaggerated sternness. “I’ll have you know that I can be delightfully droll.”

“I propose a duel then,” said Elros, with great solemnity. “Whoever wins shall be declared the least serious.”

“You’re an absolute pirate, brother! This is simply unfair,” Elrond said, looking most aggrieved. “You are by far the better duelist, and we both know you’re more serious than I am.”

“Oh no!” Elros put on a shocked expression. “A serious pirate king? Whatever next?” He pretended to take up a dueling stance, wielding an imaginary sword. “Now you know my secret and must perish!”

Elrond grinned and did likewise, twirling his cloak aside with a flourish. “Hah! The joke is on you, my brother; I never shall!”

“Say you so? Come on!”

After several more pretended perryings and false feints, they called it a draw, looking very serious all the while. Once they ended the match and made proper bows to each other, they burst into gales of laughter. With a stinging knowledge that this was the last time. 

Night was drawing near.

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