Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine.

Notes: So...I've been in the mood to do Lord of the Rings oneshots lately, about my favorite characters. After Legolas got a proper angst-fest, of course there had to be one about Celeborn. I'm toying with the idea of doing Faramir and perhaps Eomer, because I wuv them. Please leave me a review if you like it. Thank you.


Vulnerabilities

She was always invulnerable. Always. She was the kind of woman who would leap into the sea off a sheer cliff far from civilization and then swim all the way back to port. She was the kind of woman who would discuss philosophy with a Valar. She was the kind of woman who would kiss her lover before a crowd of people without bringing a blush to her cheeks.

He was always good at hiding his own vulnerabilities. It was how he survived all the ages of the world—with silence, and courtesy, and diplomatic words. It was not that he thought himself incapable. He always knew that he was strong, but he never fooled himself into believing that he had no weaknesses. After all, his love, in itself, was a sort of vulnerability.

And yet, when silence filled the bedchamber at night, or when her place remained empty more and more often as days passed, or when he watched her secretly leave for her Mirror before dawn rose, he wondered if his theory was correct. If she really was stronger than he was. Or if that cursed beautiful ring was irreversibly destroying who she was.

As time passed, he grew used to waking slowly to prevent disturbing her, and then stealing the precious glimpses of her he could only see when she thought no one was watching. These glimpses were always stolen, always furtive and secret, because she changed when she was not alone. She became invulnerable.

Once, when he woke, she was sitting on the edge of the bed with her back to him. Muffled sounds of distress drifted to his ears, and his body tensed as he realized she was crying. His heart convulsed as he strained to keep his body still, and resist the overpowering urge to enclose her safely in his embrace. A long time ago he would have immediately moved to comfort her. A long time ago she would have wanted him to do so.

Not anymore. That morning, he stayed in his false-sleep position until she finally dried her eyes and, with a quick glance at her husband, glided out of the room. He let her go.

He let her go because he loved her. Because the last time he reached out to comfort her, she told him he would never understand the burden of a ringbearer, that ringbearers would always be alone. He had always been good at reading between the lines, and he knew when help was not wanted. If he could keep her pain to a minimum, he would, no matter what the cost, even if it meant letting her cry alone.

Often he wondered if she was really invulnerable as she had always been. She constantly analyzed the contours of her ring, but barely spared him a glance anymore. She sometimes grew angry at him over nothing, and often wept secretly at night, always waiting until she believed him asleep before letting her frailty show. She spent her days alone in utter melancholy, so that he wondered if she would ever really smile again.

But she was still invulnerable. She never showed a sliver of weakness to anyone, not even to him, unless he watched her secretly. She stood beautiful and wise before the court every morning, regardless of how long she had wept or stared into her Mirror the night before. In her invulnerability, she forced him away, built up a wall to protect what was without, not seeing that he hurt with her no matter what she did to prevent it.