Okay, I am finally back. I had some troubles with the computer (I have a new one, but Word wasn't installed yet, so I could not update anything), and the next chapter of 'A Hunting Trip Gone Awry' seems to have some difficulties from flowing on the paper. I am busy writing it, and it should be finished shortly, but I have to work too and it's very hot outside, so I am not allowed too much time on the pc. Anyway, I know these are excuses, and I should just get to write! I promise it's the first thing on my to do list.

Until then, I decided to give you this little story. It's unlike the others on the site, because it was intended as a birthday fic, and I had to modify it a bit in order to post it here. If Aragorn seems a bit out of character, please forgive me for that.

Also, if you want any other fix of mine which is the same genre as this one, try Diamonds in the Sand.

I hope you like it, and hopefully the next update for A Hunting Trip will follow soon! Until then!

BETA Thewayfaringstrangers

"Arwen!"

"Yes, my love?"

"Look what I found!" Grinning like a child, Aragorn came in with an heavy, leathery book in his hands and laid it on the table. A pile of dust flew away when it touched the wood. Arwen didn't look very impressed.

"An old book? Aragorn, I have already searched the whole library, and there is nothing that can help me with my garden."

"Forget the garden for a second. You need some rest. And I, as a loyal husband, have provided it for you. Read," he commanded proudly. Arwen frowned, but obeyed and bowed over the title of the book.

Of the Wakening of the Elves, or of Celebrentâl and Malenfing

"Aragorn, I really don't have time for this." Her husband had been truly tiresome these last days. Ever since Legolas had taken him on a hunting trip, a sense of his old energy had taken over his body, making his steps lighter and his lips smiling. Sometimes, the queen felt like she had married the elven prince! Normally, Aragorn would have bowed to her protests and left her to her thoughts, especially now that her garden was withering, and her powers were not sufficient anymore to make the flowers flourish. Now however, he only grinned.

"Yes you do." Quickly, the king closed the study books she was reading in and threw them on a pile. Then, he pushed her over to the couch near the fire.

"Now sit," he ordered playfully, before taking the book and sitting down next to her. He laid her feet on his lap, and leant back.

"Are you sitting comfortable, my love? Oi, do you want some tea?" A little amused, Arwen shook her head.

"No, my king, I am fine. Now tell me that tale you are so excited about!" Aragorn bowed smiling, smoothing out the pages before starting to read.

There has been much written about the Wakening of the Elves in Cuivienen. Many scholars have tried to solve the great mysteries. Why was Cuivienen chosen as a womb? Did the elves sleep there since the beginning of Eä, or were they placed there by Eru Illuvatar himself, or the Maiar, or another power? Who were those first elves?

Many answers and hypotheses have been given –

"Aragorn, my love, I appreciate what you're doing, but I really am not in the mood for a history lesson. My garden is withering!"

"Arwen, my love, I appreciate your comments, but I am not quite finished reading. Now hush and let me continue. Where was I? Ah…"

Many answers and hypotheses have been given, but even though these scholars were wise and docile, they all forgot to mention one thing – and they left it to the poets to tell this tale. It has been lost during the time, but recently, I have found it again in the archives of lord Thingol of Doriath, written by his lovely wife, the Maia Melian.

And now I am sitting here, in Neldoreth near the river Sirion, dipping my quill in the ink. If you will permit me, dearest reader, I will tell you this forgotten story now, the story of Celebrentâl, Silverfoot, and Malenfing, Goldenhair.

"Aragorn… How old is this book?"

"It appears to be a copy from a work written in the First Age, my love." Her eyes widened.

"Does your library have such old books? Valar, there are indeed treasures to be found here!"

"My ancestors held many secrets indeed, my love. And even though much has been lost, there is still wisdom and knowledge hidden in the White City." She nodded and looked at the page, asking him silently to read on. Smiling, Aragorn obeyed.

One of the most beautiful hypotheses about the creation of the elves I have read, is the one of an unknown poet, who said the first elves were stars. Eru Illuvatar gently plucked them from the Ever-Eve and let them descend to the earth. As soon as they touched the waters of Cuivienen, they took on the form we know today, created out of pure light, clear water and the foam on the rippling waves of the lake. Most of them were alone in the beginning, although they were surrounded by their kin.

Aragorn paused. "Shall I go on, my love?" Arwen just threw a cushion to him.

"You won't leave me here now, will you? You wouldn't be so cruel!"

"Perhaps I am not," he grinned gayly, turning the page. The trip with Legolas, and the beautiful weather truly had made him younger, almost a child again.

Not Celebrentâl and Malenfing, however. It is said they were one star in the dark blue heavens, but when they fell, just before they hit the water, they were separated – by a good force, or an evil, who can tell? – and each part was given a body and a name. Celebrentâl was a slender, powerful maiden. Her feet were quick, and her lips broad, and every time she laughed, the birds in the forest would start to sing. Malenfing had taken on the form of an ellon, broad and elegant, with warm arms to keep his beloved in.

And so it happened that even before they rose to take in their first breath, Malenfing already held Celebrentâl near his body, and he helped her up to breath, and they breathed each other's air.

And the northern light twinkled above them.

While the stars were descending, they stayed in the lake, until no elves were created any more. Then, they went ashore, where they took in each others forms, no longer concealed by the warm water, and not yet covered by clothes. And Celebrentâl smiled, looking up at the other part of her soul, and she kissed him , they vowed to be together for ever, and never let any person, force or destiny come between them.

And the northern light twinkled above them.

For a long time, they lingered there. They learned soon enough how they had to sustain their mortal bodies now. Often, when Malenfing was away to gather food, or hunt a prey, Celebrentâl would accompany him, running lightly through the star-lit forest, or stay at Cuivienen with the other maidens to weave. And when they were tired, they would lay with each other, and have love, watching the stars or listening to the singing of the others. And thus, they lived many more years.

None knows where they dwelt after Cuivienen was emptied. Some say they went to Valinor. Others are convinced they followed lord Thingol, or that they became the Teleri who came too late to the shore, but were brought to the Undying Lands by lord Ulmo.

I do not believe this though. As soon as they had left the warm water of Lakes of Wakening, a great love for Arda had blossomed in their hearts. They would not leave it, not yet. Instead, I keep thinking they went with the Nandor to Lindon, or Ossiriand in the tongue of the Grey Elves.

But they no longer dwell here.

Much is obscure about their passing. I will pen here what lady Melian has related, but there are many other accounts too, if one knows where to look. The wife of Thingol tells that they lived long and merrily among the Nandor, having build their home in the large trees near the river Legolin. There, they watched as the Shadow took the elven kingdoms, and finally, they no longer could stay in Lindon. Celebrentâg had practiced herself in magic, and Malenfing had become unbeatable with the longbow.

So they started roamed the known earth, hunting evil things, without ever losing their gentle hearts, and offered their hands to the great kings of the time. They even came here, to Doriath, to meet lord Thingol and lady Melian, and the wise Maia wrote down their stories. That was when I was still a boy, and yet, I remember the following days crystal clear, for it was the last time they were seen here.

Not long afterwards, a cold wind started to blow, and a storm, unlike anything that has ever been seen, gathered in the North, and when it was passed, gentler winds carried the word that Silverfoot and Goldenhair had passed away from this world. They had been led in a trap and were slaughtered mercilessly by the enemy – but still together. The winds also whispered of their last words of love to each other, and they said that on the moment both passed away, the northern light twinkled above them, holding a promise that one day, they will be together again.

Now the days have darkened. The ending of the world as we know it, is near. The enemy is too strong to resist, and many elves have fallen into the shadow already. Yet there is still hope. Some tongues tell that Eärendil, son of Tuor and Idril of Gondolin, the sacked city, has gone on a ship to the West, to ask the aid of the Valar.

I don't believe they will intervene personally though – they never have done that, why would they now? – but I pray to Illuvatar to send back Celebrentâg and Malenfing, the lovers, that they may aid us once more.

Perhaps you breath now to the parchment, as if I will hear them, that the dead cannot be resurrected, that lord Mandos never releases those who enjoy his hospitality, and yet, I feel myself strengthened in my faith by a prophecy of Celebrentâg herself, written down by Melian. For she had many visions, and in one of them - so tells the queen – she saw Malenfing and herself, sitting in a great, white city, more earthly but also more innocently, laughing in the sun. More, she did not see, save that they were happy. And therefore, I strongly believe that one day, near or far in the future, they will be together again.

Aragorn closed the book softly. "Thus ends the story of Celebrentâg and Malenfing." He laid the book aside, and bent over to Arwen.

"You, beloved, are my Celebrentâg."

Celebrentâg and Malenfing are my characters and are not mentioned in the Silmarillion. Everything else belongs to Tolkien.

Please review! :)

xXx Archiril