"Alas my love but you do me wrong, to cast me off so discourteously…"
The regal lord of Imladris stood amongst the shadows of the Hall of Fire, his face darkened by sorrow though he faced the firelight. Embers from the hearth flickered in the air before burning out and spiraling to the floor. Outside the snow swirled so thick and fast it seemed as if it were trying to bury the haven. The shouts and laughter of merry elves and guests echoed through the hall, but still Elrond looked to the fire.
The light of Imladris. She still danced for him.
Elrond reflected, as he had so many times before, on how quickly her dance had turned sinister.
He remembered ages ago when they had first met. She was dancing on his arm, her poise and beauty far outshining the other members of the court of Lorien. Every movement she made was pure elegance. He remembered her gentle azure eyes, her moonbeam colored hair, and the delighted way she laughed when he told her that she was truly the Jewel of Lorien. All eyes were on her; she who danced away the shadows.
She could start wars with a glance, he remembered.
"I have both wagered life and land, your love and goodwill for to have…"
A small smile graced his lips; he and another had almost waged war for her hand. It was common to hear ardent declarations of love and passionate speeches between rivals in the court of Lorien whenever the Lady Celebrian visited.
But her lips ended wars as quickly as her blue eyes began them; her sweet, low voice begging for peace between enemies. Her words had brought many a man to his knees, he remembered.
"Flower of Lorien," Elrond murmured, lost in the fire, "Would that I had never seen you wilt."
The fire no longer seemed so warm. He shuddered as he heard the echoes of that sweet voice raised in anguish, never again to laugh as if pain and death and sorrow were but mere dreams...
"Jewel of Lorien," She spat, "Flower of Lorien! How fair would they think me now, my love?" She spread her arms and spun around, laughing mechanically. She had ignored his pleas, ripping off her bodice and dress, dropping them to the floor. She stopped in front of the mirror, running her hands over her slender, scarred body.
"Thy petticoat of sendle white, with gold embroidered gorgeously; thy petticoat of silk and white, and these I bought gladly…"
She looked at him with feverishly bright eyes. "Do you see this one?" She asked, pointing to the matching scars across her thighs. "They sunk the hooks through my muscle and hung me from a tree. And this one, my love? Do you see this one?" She pointed to the scar that ran down her side. "They thought me a salmon and tried to filet me." She smiled at him, her eyes still burning.
It was an empty, devastating smile.
However much Elrond had tried, no matter how many ways he tried, he could not heal her of the hate that was eating at her soul. He could see the dull pain in her beautiful, terrible eyes and felt his own soul ache in response. Curse those godforsaken Valar in their godforsaken blessed realm! How could they have allowed this to happen to one of the Firstborn? One of their own children! They were safe behind their godforsaken stone walls. What did they know of grief? What did they know of suffering? They had not been there during the heavy days and the tortured nights. If deep, dutiful suffering were a cure, he would have stayed awake at her side for the rest of his existence, but Valar knew that he was tired. Oh so very tired...
It was there, in front of the mirror that Elrond had gathered Celebrian into his arms and kissed her. He kissed her harder, the sound of her frenzied laughter haunting him. He ran his hands over every part of her body, caressing her warm, soft skin. He knelt before her and kissed her bruised feet. He slowly kissed her ankles, her calves, her thighs, her hips, stomach, chest, neck…planting a soft kiss on every scar.
When he was done, he looked at his fair love and her anger broke. She sobbed and screamed and threw herself to the floor. He clung to her just as she clung to him, murmuring lullabies and sweet nothings, holding her warm body close to his as if he could protect her from the world. When she tried to pull away, he held her all the tighter. After a brief struggle, she melted into him, allowing him to hold her as she fell asleep...
Elrond fought to keep his tears from overflowing as he stared sightlessly at the fire.
He remembered the day she left.
She had been healed, body and soul. Her scars had faded and the bruises had disappeared. But her memories kept her awake at night; the terror in her screams was something he knew no one else could fathom.
"Keep me always at your back, my loveliest lady," He told her. "I will be your support."
She had smiled again. An honest, beautiful smile. She loved him beyond all other things; he could see it in her eyes. "Cast away your fears, Elrond. Your eyes are too full sorrows. My memories have become a burden, but that does not mean you have." She placed a soft hand on his face and he nuzzled it, his grief deeper than the sea she would be sailing on.
"I love you." His throat was thick with unshed tears. Oh, how deep this hurt was. How could he ever recover? His wife, his friend, his lover, his life, she was sailing...
"And I love you. This is not 'goodbye', dearest love, for I am not leaving you. This is only 'until we meet again'."
He had nodded. For her sake he had nodded. "Yes...'until we meet again'."
He remembered watching her go, remembered how he wanted to rip the boat to pieces and carry her back to the safety of their bed in Imladris. He remembered feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders, torn between letting her go and selfishly wanting her to stay by his side. He remembered the pain, the overwhelming, all-consuming pain that brought him to tears nearly every night since she had gone. The bed was so empty...
As her ship was pulling out of port, she had looked back at him and waved.
"Save a dance for me!" She shouted. "I'll save one for you!"
Though he had smiled, he had felt his heart break in that moment. It had been only a few months since his wife's departure, and he knew it would be years before they were reunited again. A fierce longing made him shiver despite the heat of the fire.
Until then, he would dance alone.
"And who but my lady Greensleeves?"