This was his memory, standing at the quay and watching Elrohir hold long to his mother, until Elladan took hold of his twin and embraced Elrohir to hide his tears.
Elrond hung back under the pretense of giving the children privacy to bid their mother farewell but, really, the thought came to him: If I don’t come forward, she will not leave. She will not leave without bidding me farewell.
He’d stand here forever--better than letting her go.
The gentle waves splashed against the sides of the waiting ship; in the most bitter irony, the day was bright and warm, fit for a wedding.
One by one, the children departed, until it was just him and Celebrian. Her face was parched and stiff; he hadn’t seen her cry since--
He refused to think of it.
So he stepped forward, to embrace her, but when he brushed her shoulder, she flinched and her hand rose to clutch the place of his touch, as though to bar some filth.
The waves clapped against the dock the whole day long, until the sea became bloodied by the sunset. At some point, she must have left. But, looking back, he could not remember.