Celeborn waved one last time and then slowly let his hand fall. His daughter's future lay ahead, not behind, and she never let her eyes past her husband's face, anyway. The sight of her joy almost outweighed the grief at her departure.
Without looking, he reached for Galadriel's hand.
She didn't respond.
The smile froze on his lips as he turned to her. He had seen it before: the perfect composure, not as much as a single furrow, and a gaze too intent. An emotion chained with a will of steel and cast into the deepest pit. How long had she been like that? He hadn't noticed, too absorbed in his goodbyes with CelebrÃan.
She never spoke as they left Nanduhirion, nor when they crossed the borders, nor when the music and lights of Caras Galadhon welcomed them in the dusk.
She disappeared while he was dissolving the party but he needn't ask where she had gone; he knew where he would find her.
She didn't raise her head as she heard his footsteps, and he paused for a moment, seeing the silver basin upturned in the grass. The water was spilt on its marble stool and around. Celeborn picked it and placed it back, and then sat under a tree not far from Galadriel, but too far to reach a hand. He leaned against the trunk, closed his eyes and waited.
After some time, her robe rustled behind him. With a pause, she sat next to him. "It is getting cold," she said.
"It is", he replied.
"I am feeling very tired today," she continued.
"It was a long ride, and the merriment even longer. Maybe you would like to rest here for a while, my lady?"
"If I may?" she mumbled.
"Need you ask?"
The smile she feigned was faint.
He wrapped her shoulders in his cloak and she rested beside him, with her head on his lap. He gently pushed aside the tresses from her face and put his arms around her. He felt a shudder going through her body: the closest she ever got to tears. "Are you warmer?" he asked.
"Yes," she said. "I am better now."
After a while, he began to hum a melody: a wordless and simple tune, like the song of a rivulet or wind on a sunny day. He meant to lull her to sleep but after some time she took his hand and held it to her cheek. Not ceasing the song, he started to stroke her forehead and temples with his fingers.
Finally she spoke. "She is so much like Finrod had been."
Celeborn was very careful not to let his hand pause. Finrod, her most beloved brother, and one of her relation he also loved best. His flawless memory immediately brought back the vivid image to his mind, the familiar gesture and the laughter he so often heard when the three of them would sit together in Doriath, during Finrod's frequent visits before the peace of Beleriand was broken.
Finrod.
The brother and the sister, so much alike in face, yet of so different mood: where Galadriel was secretive, Finrod was open, where her will would clash with others, he would parley, where she would build a wall impenetrable, he would offer a hearty welcome.
Finrod, the most welcome nephew of Thingol, Finrod, the friend of Men, Finrod, the most beloved of the Noldorin princes.
Finrod, who went to a terrible death, betrayed by his kinsmen and forsaken by his people.
The death that he had foreseen.
CelebrÃan was truly so much like him, of open and generous heart, beloved by all that knew her. He had seen the semblance himself on many an occasion, and had heard the words before.
Yet this time they sounded different.
To gain some time to recollect his thought, he said, "So she is, a joy to everyone. Such loss is truly hard to bear, but surely our daughter shall come to see us now and then."
Again the shudder, and she held his hand tighter but spoke no more, and he knew all too well than to offer a console unasked, though the last time he had seen her like that was when the news of Finrod's death reached Doriath.
And he also knew better than to ask questions.
Still holding his hand, Galadriel finally fell asleep. He held his most beloved in his arms and watched her, the delicate curves of cheek and throat, the golden arc of brows and lashes, the lips so pale after the strain. The will of steel, the wall impenetrable, he guessed what she had resolved to keep secret from him, and he took care that his tears did not wake her.