red_lasbelin | Happy Birthday minuial

And under the cut, I have a ficlet set in the R-E universe for you. Because I know how much you love and miss them. Me too!

Home

Elrond sat on the porch steps next to the earthen pot, the door propped open beside him. Night had fallen, the house warmly lit against the dark. He could hear Dan and Miri in the kitchen, washing up dishes and getting Rohdin into bed. He needed to go back in soon. But not before another cigarette.

He’d excused himself after dinner, pleading a case of needing air. Rohdin had wanted to join him, but his son knew him well, a little space was needed. He lit his second cigarette, the now-familiar rush of nicotine soothing, grounding. He remembered waking up in this world, alone, naked, no clue of where he was or how he came to be there. The world was so loud, the technology and cement and steel so great that he couldn’t hear the earth, couldn’t recognize the sound and feel of the land he once called home. No family either, his sons weren’t there, Bri wasn’t there.

He remembered looking for them, searching until each false lead brought crushed dreams and bitterness, and he could bear no more. It changed him, living in this world, believing he had lost everything. He was much rougher around the edges, he’d made choices he never would have before. Elrond laughed, quiet and self deprecating – more honestly, he’d become a selfish, survivalist bastard. Living in a world with no hope can do that to a person, he reflected.

But meeting Dan, coming here to this cabin, seeing his grandson and daughter-in-law… It was overwhelming, and a part of him still didn’t believe it wasn’t a dream he was going to wake up from. He had those, the first year of his arrival, driven by alcohol and stimulants. On some level he knew the dreams weren’t real – Arwen was there too - but the return to reality afterwards was always soul-wrecking.

He inhaled the cigarette smoke deeply, then reached for the ground beside him and felt the earth beneath him, the grass and dirt under his fingertips. It was real, all of it. When he stepped out of the Jeep, he had felt like he had come home. Not like going back to Valinor, that was a place he went to heal, but like coming back to Imladris, the home of his heart.

He ground the butt out and stood, ready. He left the porch and went back inside. Miri was standing in the living room, hand supporting her belly and talking to Rohdin.

“But why can’t I stay up longer? We have company,” Rohdin insisted. He turned to look at Elrond hopefully for support.

“It’s been a very big day,” Miri said as Dan left the kitchen and joined them, arm around his wife’s waist.

“And I will still be here in the morning.” Elrond smiled. “Be here until the shine’s worn off, probably.”

“Well that will be quite a long time then, won’t it?” Dan said, pleased.

Elrond looked at him and Miri, at Rohdin, who had the eyes of Dan’s at a young age, mischievous and adventurous, and the baby girl he had not yet met and nodded. “Quite a long time, yes. Be like home.”

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