Each hoofbeat, each heartbeat, with every step he felt his heart sink. The decision had felt so distant when he had made it, so weighted and heavy, but yet so far away.
Not now. Not anymore. Not today, and never tomorrow.
As they wound through the trees, crossed streams bubbling and bursting, and as the hills rolled away under their feet, he felt the finality of his, no, their decision grow.
He had no words; no words to describe how his heart would break, no words to describe how he would be, and no words to describe how he would never be once more.
Even now, even now his arms felt empty, his hands felt cold, and his being incomplete. And she had not yet left!
Her silver hair flowed loosely in the slight breeze, the light edges idly tickling her neck while thin, pale fingers grasped the reins in a determined, trembling grip.
She rode before him, flanked determinedly by the twins, but while she was still his Celebrian, she was not the same - his old Celebrian would never have needed a bridle nor reins - and she would never, never again be the same.
Not here. Not anymore. There was nothing left that he could do.
The first whiff of heavy, salty air stung, and a tear prickled in his eye. Before, he could still pretend they were travelling to Lorien in the wild green lands of the Shire, but now, now he could no longer deny it.
She was leaving.
He was losing her.
His hand tightened upon the mane of his own mount as he blinked the stubborn tear away just in time to catch her looking back at him with a wistful, almost sorry look in her eyes.
His breath caught in his throat as he returned her gaze with a small, sad smile of his own. No. No matter how much he wanted to rail and scream and cry, his heart could not break now - he had not the time to put its broken pieces together.
He would never burden her with the knowledge that it would break him if she should leave, and she was leaving - they had but days left in each other's company - this was time that would never once more return to him.
He could not, would not, dared not leave her with the sight of his heart breaking, but even as she caught his gaze, he could see the reflection of his heart breaking in her eyes. He turned away first, but her look of strength in frailty promised this, that they would speak about this, and they would speak about it soon.
The first caclop of hoofs on cobblestone brought him out of his reverie. A hand reached out to soothe his mount, and he dismounted quickly to let a stablehand lead the horse away, and watched as the twins helped their mother off her horse.
A small stab went through his heart, not of jealousy but of pain, but again she turned to lock her eyes on his. In moments, he was by her side, her hand in his as his fingers idly traced up and down the back of her hand.
She cracked a small, rare, smile, and he led her into Mithlond's main hall as the last of the sun's rays crept below the horizon.
Elladan could barely take his eyes off Naneth, Elrohir noted. His twin usually had words about the old trees of the Shirelands, words about the length of the path, words about anything at all, but not this time. This time, he had ridden the entire journey in silence, nodding or shaking his head, but never truly speaking to anyone. His eyes had stayed fixed on Naneth at all points, almost as if he were afraid that she would disappear should he take his eyes off her.
Wasn't that what they were all afraid of as well?
The smell of the sea suddenly seemed to surround him, the salty winds whipping at his hair as they rushed up inland from the sea.
He could almost see the boats bobbing in the harbor, could almost hear the gulls cry, could almost feel the water lapping at his feet, the grains of sand trapped between his toes.
A cold hand gripped his heart. Naneth was leaving.
She was going to disappear, whether they lay their eyes on her or not, she was going to disappear.
He watched as they disappeared around the corner of the hallway, Naneth and Ada, trailed closely by the silent spectre that was Elladan.
He swallowed the lump in his throat.
Arwen nudged him gently in the side as she swept past him up the stairs, and Glorfindel's hand on the small of his back pushed him towards the hall into which his family had just entered. Elrohir blinked, and it was only after Erestor walked past him with a thinly veiled look of concern that he gathered himself and took the first step into the hallway.
There was an odd sense of finality to each of his soft footsteps on the smooth wooden floor.
Dinner was a quiet, stilted affair.
Cirdan, after all, was not the type to waste unneeded breath on pleasantries that no one appreciated, and Elrond was hardly in the mood to make conversation.
Well, no one could blame him, Glorfindel mused, picking morosely at the fish bones on his plate. This was no visit of pleasure - few trips to Mithlond were. He scowled and turned to pushing vegetables around in a circle whilst Erestor looked on disapprovingly, the dark-haired elf having long since resorted to taking frequent sips of some very delectable wine.
There was no one thing in the city itself that Glorfindel disliked - rather, it was the very notion upon which Mithlond had been constructed that he dreaded.
Partings.
He shook his head, as though clearing it of those thoughts, as he let his eyes wander over the remaining occupants of the small table.
Celebrian put up a brave front, but her hands shook sometimes and she seemed uncomfortable inside the building, separated from the stars.
For now though, Celebrian was the least of his worries.
The twins were not taking this well. A fire constantly burned in Elladan's eyes, while Elrohir seemed to be torn between watching his brother and his mother. Elrond was in no condition to notice this, but a quick glance at Erestor confirmed his suspicions.
Arwen worried him as well, but not to the extent of her brothers. The family's little lady had weathered the storm well, and even now sometimes served as the voice of soothing calm when it was needed.
Neither Celeborn nor Galadriel had come, not that it had been much of a surprise, though he had to admit that there was still a tiny part of him that was convinced that the Lord and Lady of the Galadhrim would burst into Mithlond at some point during the dinner.
But while Galadriel was strong, she was perhaps not strong enough to watch her daughter sail away to a land forever beyond her reach. Celeborn had stayed with her, for while she was not physically present, there was no doubt that Galadriel would feel their bond splinter in that moment when Celebrian entered the Straight Road.
Forever was a very, very long time, even in the lives of elves.
"Children, " Ada's voice floated down the table as dinner concluded and they readied to leave the room, "your mother and I want to speak with you in our room after you freshen up."
Arwen's hands froze, and the twins stopped at the threshold, heads turned briefly before Elrohir strode off in search of their rooms, and Elladan grudgingly followed suit. Cirdan had paused briefly on the steps, but an unreadable look passed across his face before he quickly left their family alone.
She almost missed Ada's pleading glance at Glorfindel and Erestor, and barely heard the softly spoken words, "I would also greatly appreciate your presence later."
Arwen watched as Glorfindel's face hardened and Erestor's jaw tightened though neither said a word. She continued watching as Glorfindel shoved his chair back into place with more force than was required and Erestor all but slammed his glass back down onto the tabletop.
Ada turned his head away, and she saw Nana whisper something into his ear. A sinking feeling that she could not place entered her stomach as thoughts began to fly through her mind.
No. She would not make this any larger an issue than it was.
They were going to be fine.
They would make it through tomorrow just fine.