Elrond couldn't leave Imladris, it was his home, but the responsibility felt so much more without Celebrían by his side. But when he looked he found a single strand of silver hair on the pillow and he knew that Celebrían would always be beside him.

While he waited at her door, hope and nervousness made him impatient. In the end he didn't need words. The single rose was enough to make her smile. She said, "Yes," before he could even ask. Falling in love with Celebrían had been the death of him and he was glad.

"Why did this happen?" Elladan asked.

Elrond started to explain about the drought that turned crops brown so there was no food when Elladan stopped him. "I mean, how can the Valar let this happen? They could just bring him food from the West."

Elrond shook his head. "We cannot expect them to step in just for one man. They have only ever intervened when the threat is dire and affects all of Middle-earth."

"But it affects him." It was a distinction Elladan was too young to understand yet.

"They want all the people of Middle-earth to help before they do."

"Then they might come when it's too late."

"Sometimes they do," Elrond agreed, his expression serious.

Elladan wandered off looking thoughtful. Elrond would wait until he had thought it through and returned with more questions.

"Why do you stay with him?" Elrohir asked, standing in the open doorway so the wind blew parchment around the room and Elrond had to keep hold of the top blanket, lest it should fly away too.

Elrond motioned him over, and when Elrohir had shut the door and sat down Elrond explained. "He has no family that love him and no friends nearby that we could find. No one should have to die alone if it can be helped."

"Does it make a difference?" Elrohir asked.

Elrond nodded. "Men don't know what will happen to them when they die so they are afraid to face the unknown. Fear is always lessened when you have company."

Elrohir nodded. "I'll stay too. Then he will be twice as unafraid."

Elrond smiled at his son and the simple attitude of the young that could understand such things so clearly.

He'd almost thought twice about leaving, but once he was on the road he knew he was doing the right thing. The sea was calling for him. When at last he reached the Grey Havens and saw Círdan and the blue-green sea he smiled. He made the right choice.

~*~

Estel listened to the men as they spoke of their friend with love. "Was he brave?" he asked Elrond, who had stepped onto the balcony behind him.

"He was," Elrond confirmed. "He stepped in front of another and took the spear aimed at him. He died so his friend could live. That is why they do not grieve as they would another."

"He must be very brave," Estel said, awe in his voice.

Elrond put a hand on his shoulder. "One day someone may do the same for you. Then you must celebrate the bravery and not mourn the loss."

Delighting in the sounds, Elrond was careful not to let him see them, lest his presence remind his sons of their adult status. They had grown to be dependable Elves that he relied on a great deal, yet they could often be too serious, much like him. Arwen was good for all the family.

His thoughts were of his sons, out hunting orcs to avenge their mother's death. In time they would learn it was a vain hope, which would not bring her back. In the meantime he worried whenever they left and wondered each time, if both sons would return.

When at last they were in sight, unhurt, he felt the weight of the air lift around him.

Inside it was calm, the scent of lavender helping to relax the occupants of the small room, save for Arwen as she protested her entry into the cold world, her cries barely louder than the wind. Elrond smiled at his new daughter, knowing that although the conditions were far from perfect, she was and that was all he needed.

Elrond, alerted by no Man, rode out to meet the group. By the time he reached them the weather had cleared and the land was drying beneath the sun. However, it was too late and Elrond found that not one of them were alive. The exhaustion from their long trip had taken its toll.

Once Elrond had tidied and prepared the body for its journey home he allowed himself to sit and shed a tear for the Man he had lost. He had come to love Aravir during his fostering at Imladris and though he was used to losing his mortal brethren, he grieved at the untimely loss.

He'd had a plan for Baranur's foal before she'd given birth, but twins were something special and his sons had been eyeing up the ponies for a while now, wanting one of their own. Another foal would replace Baranur's and he could give Elladan and Elrohir a special foal each.

2.
There were many who disliked having thirteen dwarves, a hobbit and Gandalf staying in Rivendell. They were different to what most of the residents were used to these days: they ate a lot, they were loud and their stories were often bawdy. Worst of all, Gandalf encouraged them. It almost seemed as if there were dwarves everywhere in the Last Homely House.

But Elrond welcomed them. He had seen mostly elves for many years, so he was delighted to meet dwarves again and to make the acquaintance of a hobbit. Rivendell would get used to their guests, he was sure.

3.
Elrond stood in the shadows of a nearby balcony watching Aragorn take his leave of Arwen. He'd had high hopes for them both, but separately. Now the time drew near when Aragorn would either be king or would fall and Arwen was bound up in his fate.

She was more precious to him than anything else in Middle-earth, save for his sons. Yet he knew he would give her up in the end, for Aragorn would need her at his side. And if Elrond took her from him she would never forgive him and he would still lose his daughter.

4.
There were still too many people around, so when Elrond spied a chance, he excused himself, grabbed Celebrían's hand and pulled her into a dark corner. "I want you all to myself," he said, once he'd reminded himself how much he liked kissing her.

She smiled. "You will later."

His only reply was a sigh.

"You are the Lord of Rivendell. All desire to share in your wedding day. And," she added, when he opened his mouth to protest, "you want to share your joy with them."

"You are wise," he agreed. But the night was still too far off.

He smiled upon seeing Arwen curled up in a chair in the corner. When she didn't acknowledge his entrance he assumed she was absorbed in her book. Her mother had done the same from time to time and Elrond had learnt it was best to leave her to it.

Since Celebrían left, Elrond and Arwen had found they had little to say to each other. Elrond couldn't say why their relationship had changed so much, so he was glad of a chance to spend some time with his daughter. Even if neither of them spoke it was enough to be in her presence for a time.

However, the accounts of Imladris were not very distracting and Elrond found he couldn't concentrate on them after a long day. After a while spent trying to read, but mostly staring out of the window, he realised Arwen hadn't turned a page in her book since he sat down. When he looked up he found she was looking off into the distance.

"Arwen?" he asked softly, and waited until her eyes met his before continuing. "Is something wrong?"

She shook her head. As she slid the bookmark inside the book and rested it on the table beside the lamp, Elrond waited for her to correct that statement. "It's too quiet."

He raised an eyebrow. It was early yet and outside the window the birds were singing as they gathered for bed. The Men chattering and the Elves' songs could still be heard, though they were further afield. It was not noisy precisely, but neither was it very quiet.

Arwen knew what his expression meant without him having to ask the question. "It's too quiet without mother here," she elaborated.

He nodded. He often felt the same. Celebrían's absence made the house feel too empty, despite the number of people in it. Yet he said nothing to Arwen. It was hard to offer comfort when he had none to give.

The silence stretched between them before Arwen stood and wandered over to the mantelpiece, frowning. "There always used to be flowers here."

"Violets." Leaving his papers on the chair as he stood, Elrond joined her. "They were your mother's favourite flower. They used to grow in the flowerbed by our rooms but they have not bloomed since..." he trailed off, certain she knew the gardens well enough to have noticed.

She ran her fingers over the space on the mantelpiece where the violets once stood. Elrond hated to see her look so sad and was frustrated at his inability to help her. However, he could bear this melancholy no longer and knew he was failing as her father by not finding a way of cheering her up.

"Perhaps we might grow something else in its place," he suggested.

Arwen's fingers stopped, but it was a moment before she turned to face him. "I don't know what would grow well in that patch, but I think it should be something bright."

Elrond smiled, liking the idea. "I know where we can find out." He held out his arm. After a moment she smiled and took it, and together they walked to the library. On a low shelf on the left was a book on flowers that Celebrían had often consulted. Elrond had frequently seen her with it and knew where it lived. He picked it and handed it to Arwen. "I believe the answer to your question is in here," he said.

She opened the book and flicked through it, looking at the drawings and the information that told her what type of soil they grew best in. Elrond peered over her shoulder, offering no comment, wanting Arwen to choose something herself. She didn't linger long over any page until she came upon the rose. "I have heard that they are trying to breed a purple rose in Lothlórien," she commented.

He raised an eyebrow. "I would like to see that." Celebrían had also been fond of roses, but none she had were purple. "But the soil and the light are wrong in the flowerbed where the violets grew."

"No, but I know where they could go." She handed him the book before moving over to the desk. There she began sketching the garden, noting what grew there now and what she would like to grow.

Elrond smiled as he watched her work. She had taken over many of Celebrían's duties out of necessity, but Celebrían's garden had, until now, not been something she had been interested in, beyond looking at it. Now Celebrían was gone, Imladris would never be the same again, but at least he still had Arwen. Perhaps if they worked on the garden together they would once again find something they had in common.

"How does he plan to catch it?" Elladan wondered, as the calf changed direction once more and Estel struggled to keep up.

Elrohir had no answer, merely another question. "And what will he do when he does? It's as big as he is."

At last Estel thought better of his methods and broke off the chase. The calf went happily back to running around its mother and Estel was panting hard by the time he reached the twins. "I don't know how to catch it," he admitted.

"You only had to ask." Elladan passed him the bucket he'd brought out with them. Although Estel had given it a curious look at the time, he hadn't asked what it was for. So Elladan hadn't said anything about it either.

Estel frowned at the bucket and then looked back over the field. The twins said nothing, waiting for Estel to work it out for himself. It only took a few seconds before he took off back towards the calf. This time, he didn't chase it, but stopped to let it smell the oats in the bucket. Then it followed him obediently.

"He won't make that mistake again in a hurry," Elrohir whispered to Elladan. Elrohir was right - he didn't.

~*~

One of the sheep had died while giving birth and despite the Elves' best efforts, none of the other sheep would adopt it. So it had to be hand-reared and the task of feeding it fell to Estel. Once the initial excitement had died away his mother often had to remind him that the lamb was hungry. After two weeks, and a stern talking-to by Elrond, he had settled into the routine.

For Elrond, it meant that if he wanted to talk to Estel, there were times of the day when he could be certain where to find him. It was evening when he entered the barn. "I hear you have had a busy day," Elrond said, settling himself on a bale of straw.

Estel nodded, only briefly taking his eyes away from the lamb and her bottle. "It's hard working with animals."

Elrond managed not to smile. That had been the reason for the lesson. "Now you appreciate how hard farmers must work."

"Everyone works hard, I know that," he said earnestly.

Elrond raised an eyebrow.

"Please don't make me do the jobs of everyone here."

Over the years Elrond had needed to conceal what he was feeling from many people. The practise he'd had meant he was good at it. Except with Estel, it seemed. At his imploring tone, Elrond had to cough to hide a laugh. "It is important you understand the place everyone has in Imladris."

"So I can decide what I want to be when I grow up?"

He hesitated. Estel would have no say in his future, otherwise there would be no future for all of Middle-earth. But he could not know this, and nor would Elrond burden a child with the knowledge that his actions were so important. After a short time he said, "So you can grow up to be a learned man."

Estel appeared to consider that before he nodded. "I don't want to be ignorant."

Now Elrond smiled. "I am glad, my son."

Having drained the last drops of milk from the bottle, the lamb lay down and went to sleep.

"You must give her a name," Elrond reminded him.

"I know." Estel gave her a fond look before walking out of the barn with Elrond. "But it's hard, knowing she will have that name all her life."

"That is why we take such care over names." Estel had had plenty of suggestions from others, but Elrond would not interfere unless asked.

"And I will think of one that's just perfect for her."

Elrond smiled. "Of that I am certain."

"Ow!" she exclaimed as he reached her. She'd tried turning round and the thorns had caught on her short skirt, trapping her. It was perhaps just as well that her skirt wasn't longer, for she would have been worse off. Yet he was shocked to see a skirt like it, even though her legs were covered.

"Do not move," he commanded, and she stood still, her eyes wide as he approached. Taking care not to get his own clothing entangled, he found only three thorns in her skirt and it took but a minute to free her.

"Thank you," she said, taking his proffered hand as he led her to the safety of the lawn. "Where am I?"

He was not surprised at the question, for Imladris was well-hidden, although it meant not many stumbled upon it with no knowledge of where they were. "This is Rivendell and I am Master Elrond."

She frowned and looked around. "Maria." Despite her distraction, it was clear that was her name. "I've never heard of anywhere called Rivendell."

This he was not sure he believed her, yet he was careful not to show that in his face or his voice. "Nevertheless, it exists."

"Oh, I didn't mean that." She looked up at him apologetically. "I just meant I don't know where Imladris is."

"As should be the case." Given what she had said, he did not enlighten her as to its location. Although she looked fair, he knew that not all that was beautiful was also good, so he couldn't trust her yet.

"How did I get here?" She started off across the garden and Elrond followed her, an amused look on his face despite himself. He guessed she was still a child and there had been few children in Imladris recently.

"I was just in the attic and..." She stopped and held her hand up, examining it. "This ring." She turned back to face him. "Sarah Jane told me not to touch it."

"Sarah Jane is a wise person. Rings you know not the origin of are often best left alone."

"It must have brought me here," she said thoughtfully. "So all I have to do to get home is to take it off." She did so and her shoulders slumped when nothing happened. "I don't want to be stuck here," she said in a small voice.

He gave her a reassuring smile. "I will do everything in my power to ensure that does not happen."

His words were rewarded by a smile.

"May I see?" He would be far more cautious of this ring than she and perhaps he could divine something of its purpose without leaving Imladris.

Maria held the ring out and Elrond reached out his hand to take it. But it stung him as his fingers touched it and he gasped, pulling his hand back. The ring fell to the ground. She bent down to pick it up and he grabbed her wrist before she could do so. "No," he said. "We don't know what it will do." Given the way Vilya was warming his finger, it was nothing good. Unwilling to leave it out here where anyone could come across it, he took a corner of his robe and used that to pick the ring up. The cloth between his hand and the ring reduced the stinging sensation to something bearable. "Come," he said, and took the ring into the house. Maria followed him.

Inside, he placed the ring on a table and bent down to study it. Maria's face came into his line of sight as she did the same thing. "There is writing on it, but those are not letters I have seen before." He looked up at her, hoping she knew.

"It's probably alien."

He frowned. "I have not heard of that race." If they had made this ring, then he would definitely like to know more about them.

Maria gave him a look he couldn't interpret. "No, aliens. You know, not human."

He did not know Men had such names for races that unlike them. But he would check on the origin of such a word later, it was not important now. "It is not the writing of any race I know. And I have seen the writings of all races in Middle-earth." All races that he knew of - it was possible this was from further in the east, but Maria didn't look as if she'd come that far.

"Middle-earth?" She seemed surprised at the name of the world. "I mean, yes, it's from a race on another planet, I think." She shrugged. "It must be."

He frowned - planet was another word he did not know.

"Somewhere that's not on Middle-earth," she clarified.

He returned to studying the ring. "I am not a master of languages." Even if he were it was impossible to translate such a short piece of writing with no context. Yet Vilya had clearly been trying to tell him something. That it was dangerous he understood, given what it had done to Maria, but he hoped for something more. He held the finger Vilya was on over the ring. He gasped and pulled it back as he heard a hum in his mind.

"What is it?" Maria asked.

Elrond shook his head for he didn't know. But now he was prepared for what would happen, he tried again. It was not a soothing hum, but it was one that spoke of home, albeit not Elrond's home. It was, perhaps, Maria's.

"Touch the ring," he told her, and his words sounded muffled through the hum. Elrond was glad to see Maria was well-trained for she did as she was told. Now the hum changed to images he could not interpret. But now he could understand the people he saw as friends.

He removed his hand and put the other to his head, for it had given him a headache.

"Are you all right?"

Maria sounded concerned, so he dropped his arm and smiled for her benefit. "I will be fine." He would find a soothing drink and a quiet room later. But he couldn't leave a young girl and a source of great power unattended in his house. "Does the name Mister Smith mean anything to you?" It had come into his head along with an image of something that shone.

Her eyes lit up and she smiled. "Oh, yes. He's Sarah Jane's computer."

Elrond had not heard of a computer, but if it was related to Sarah Jane, then this ring did speak of home. However, he could not tell if it spoke truly.

"Then the ring will take me home?" she asked. She reached out for it, and once again Elrond stopped her.

"The ring may trick you," he cautioned.

She considered that. "Do you have any other ideas as to how I can get home?"

He had to admit that he had none. But he did not want to hurt an innocent girl, if that was what she was. If she was a spy then she had seen nothing that she would be able to report back to Sauron. "No," he admitted. "But you are welcome to stay until I can discover more about it."

Her face fell at his answer. "I do this sort of thing all the time. I really don't want to be trapped in a strange place and I'm willing to try."

Elrond took a deep breath and considered it. He was unsure of the best thing to do. But if Maria was right and she had some knowledge of what had happened to bring her here, he may have to trust her. And trust himself and Vilya to guide her destination. "You may try it if you wish. But think hard on it, for it may take you elsewhere. Or take your life."

"I don't want to die, but the ring wants me to do it. It did the same thing to me in the attic." She looked young and unsure and despite his reservations about her possible intentions, her wanted to keep her here, safe.

"The ring may take you to other strange places that will not be so kind," he warned.

"I know." She stood up straighter. "I want to try."

"Then I will help you," he said, smiling at the memory of his daughter she had conjured up for him. For a moment he wished to keep her here, then at least she would be safe.

Maria picked up the ring and put it on. Elrond held his hand close to hers and put his thought into Vilya. The hum in his mind stopped suddenly and Maria disappeared in front of his eyes. He waited, but she never reappeared. With no knowledge of what had happened to her, he could only hope she was home.

~*~*~

Maria let out a cry as she landed on a hard floor. When she looked up all hurt was forgotten as she saw she was back in the attic with Sarah Jane, Luke and Clyde staring down at her. She jumped up, a smile on her face and hugged Sarah Jane. "It worked!" she said.

Then she hugged Luke and Clyde too and when she turned back around, Sarah Jane was no longer smiling. Maria knew why. "I'm sorry, Sarah Jane," she said. "I know you told me not to touch it, but it felt like it was calling out to me and I couldn't resist."

Sarah Jane's face softened. "Oh, Maria, it's my fault. I knew it might do that and I should have locked it away somewhere safe."

"I've learnt my lesson," Maria said, smiling now. "Next time a piece of jewellery asks me to put it on, I'll just say no."

At that, Sarah Jane laughed and hugged her again.

"Where did you go?" Clyde asked.

"You'd never believe me," Maria replied, grinning.

Clyde folded his arms. "Try me."

Maria managed to keep an almost-straight face for a few seconds and then burst into laughter. Of course she would tell them where she'd been and what had happened to her, but right now, while all four of them were laughing, she was just glad to be home.

"She will break many hearts in the future," Celebrían said with a smile.

"She will break mine," Elrond said quietly. Although he could not imagine how or why she would do such a thing. It was a vision he would remember, but not anticipate.

Elrond heard the question and leaned over the balcony to find out why Elladan was asking it.

"But you do it wrong," Elrohir replied. "You're supposed to grip it like this."

Both Elrond's sons held swords and neither had yet seen their father watching them from above. Elrond smiled as he watched them demonstrate the effectiveness of their different holds and try each others out. He resisted telling them they were both right. They would work it out on their own eventually and the knowledge would be sweeter for having been gained by themselves.

Elrond was also terribly upset that day. Arwen had been torn away from him and when he went to the West he would never see her again. He would not be there to see how she prospered, nor to greet his grandchildren.

But today he could be happy, tomorrow he would grieve.