CHAPTER 7

Arwen led her mother slowly onto the terrace and eased her onto the couch Elrond had lovingly arranged. A mound of cushions was carefully placed to support and soft blankets were folded ready to cover her legs . . . not that Elrond was standing anywhere near the couch at the moment. He sat a safe distance away, watching sadly, slowly spinning the gold wedding band upon his finger.

Although Celebrian walked and ate, after her brief foray she retreated to a world of dreams, behind walls that none could breach. Even Celeborn and Galadriel had been unable to reach her. But she still knew a male touch and would recoil violently from it . . . even the tender and loving touch of her husband.

Once she had her mother settled Arwen hugged her father briefly and returned to the house. Elrond watched his wife wistfully for a moment and then picked up his book.

It was only a few minutes later that he sensed something . . . some change. Still wary of getting too close and disturbing Celebrian Elrond stood and slipped softly across the terrace to bend over his wife. He felt something . . . like a sleeper's first gentle stirrings.

0o0

As she drew aside the hanging trail of willow branches, Celebrian saw him.

Dark hair fell down his straight back in a perfectly ordered shining black curtain, a contrast against the richly figured brocade of his robe. When he heard her he turned and set down his book, standing to bow.

"Good day, Lady Celebrian," he stated, calmly.

She looked straight across into rain grey eyes . . . no . . . she looked up into rain grey eyes. Celebrian blinked. That was not right. She blinked again . . . but she still looked *up* into his eyes.

Elrond waited, his breath held for what seemed like an eternity. Celebrian blinked again and silver blue eyes began to focus on his for the first time in many days.

"Celebrian?" His voice was barely more than a whisper . . . hardly daring to expect a reply and frightened of her reaction to his presence.

"Elrond?" Her own voice was also thin, but with long disuse rather than fear.

He smiled, the muscles of his face struggling to remember the necessary order of movement to do so. Reaching down, he placed a gentle hand upon hers and drew back as though scalded when Celebrian snatched hers away.

It felt very strange to Celebrian, for a part of her wanted to welcome his touch but as soon as she had felt it her emotions had screamed danger, anger, fear and disgust and she had snatched her hand away before she had time to analyse the reaction. And now confusion was reasserting itself.

Celebrian looked about her. She was on the terrace outside their suite of rooms, and had no recollection of how she had got there. An empty chair, open book lying on the seat, showed where Elrond had been sitting.

"How did we get here? What day is it?"

Taking a deep breath she brought her body under her control once more and settled her hands in her lap while Elrond turned to fill a glass with cordial and pass it to her. She accepted it gratefully, her hand shaking a little, fingers avoiding her husbands as he handed it over. Resuming his seat Elrond paused to bring his own body into line before answering.

"Your father and the twins came for us. You have been ill for several days but your body is healing now."

"Ill . . . I do not . . ." Memory rolled in like a tide, threatening to overwhelm her and she whimpered and closed her eyes against the onslaught. She was unaware of Elrond rescuing her glass as she nearly dropped it upon the pavement. Celebrian brought her mind to bear once more . . . pushing back wave upon wave of vile images and feelings, netting them about and locking them away behind barricades. Finally she took a shuddering breath and opened her eyes.

Elrond stood at her side, her glass still gripped in his hand. Every taut line of his body showed that he wanted to hold and comfort her but he held himself in check, silently offering the glass once more. He took up his seat opposite her, pouring a glass of cordial for himself and vainly trying to hide the trembling of his hands.

Sipping her drink slowly, Celebrian sorted through less traumatic images . . . sifting through vague memories of more recent days. Her daughter's face, brow creased with worry, floated to the forefront of her mind.

"Arwen was here?"

"She followed her grandfather and arrived here only days after we did," Elrond supplied. He refilled his wife's glass, noting that her hand was still trembling and careful to avoid touching it. Concern suddenly flashed across her face.

"You were hurt."

Elrond raised a hand to forestall any further worry. "I am recovered." In truth, the shoulder wound that the wraith had abused was proving difficult but he wore only a light dressing upon it now.

She lowered her glass, a sudden weariness evident in her eyes, and Elrond relieved her of it.

"You should rest, my love. I will fetch Arwen to help you." He crossed the terrace swiftly and claimed the dark sanctuary of his study.

Once out of sight, beyond the threshold, Elrond leaned against his desk and struggled with the heartache that filled him to the point of overflowing. Any initial thrill at Celebrian's awakening was drowned in the pool of sorrow that filled his soul as the truth that he had been hiding from arose to overpower it. Celebrian was awake, but his wife was not returned to him . . . and possibly . . . never would be.

His heart began to keen in mourning but he turned his back resolutely upon the grief. Celebrian needed his help. The children needed him. Imladris needed him. Middle earth needed him. So many people needed him . . .but what of Elrond's needs? He swallowed the question guiltily and straightened his shoulders as he left to find his daughter.

0o0

"I think that is enough for now, Frodo."

The Ringbearer blinked, and brushed away a tear, suddenly noticing that the sun had set and Ithil was poking soft silver fingers through his cabin porthole. He shook himself mentally and cleared his throat.

"Oh my. I had not realised. How the time has flown. Thank you, Lord Elrond, for sharing your tale. And thank you for sharing supper with me. I don't want to seem ungrateful to the Lady Galadriel and the others but it was much more pleasant eating in my own cabin than with all those strangers." Frodo blushed slightly at the confession and the elf responded with a distant smile.

"Aye. The Lady Galadriel can seem a little daunting." He lifted the tray from the bedside. "If you wish to continue the tale tomorrow you know where to find me." With that he left silently.

0o0

As it happened, Frodo got no opportunity to seek out Elrond until after the noon watch bell. During the night the wind had freshened and he spent an almost sleepless night clinging to his bunk in fear of being tipped out. With the arrival of dawn the swell had not lessened and he kept to his cabin, his stomach rebelling at the very thought of food. His cabin attendant told him that being able to see the horizon often helped in these cases so at noon Frodo decided to try taking a turn on deck.

The same wind that was playing such havoc with the movement of the sea was also pleasantly cooling on his feverish face as Frodo clambered on to the deck although, he had to confess that seeing the horizon did not make him feel all that much better.

Frodo found the Lord of Imladris in his customary place, at the rail of the ship, looking out to sea. He did not turn to look at the hobbit but Elrond's voice was carried back on the breeze.

"Good afternoon, Frodo. Are you rested?"

Used by now to the fact that elves could hear him even when he stepped as lightly as he could, Frodo showed no surprise and simply staggered across the rolling deck towards the elf.

"Good afternoon, Lord Elrond. I slept well enough. Thank you."

Something in the wording of the reply made Elrond turn to look down at the Ringbearer. He was pale . . . verging on green. It was apparent from the dark circles around dull eyes that he had not slept well at all and his tiny hands gripped the lower rail so tightly that the knuckles were white. Elrond hunkered down before him.

"Did you think to put me off with that reply?"

Frodo smiled ruefully. "I had hoped that if I made light of it you would continue to tell me your story. In truth, I did not sleep well as I cannot get used to this rolling movement. Rivers are one thing but hobbits are not made for sea voyages."

Elrond echoed his smile. "I can give you something for the nausea but I think you would probably feel better lying down. Come . . ." He led the way back down to Frodo's cabin, offering a steadying hand when the rocking of the ship became too pronounced.

Within a little while Frodo was tucked up in his bunk, sipping a sweet mint flavoured concoction that soothed his stomach as soon as it touched it. He smiled up gratefully at the healer.

Elrond stoppered the bottle he had brought and accepted the empty cup, watching as Frodo settled down into his covers. "I suggest you rest for the remainder of the day. I will arrange for a tray of light food to be sent to you for your supper, later."" He turned to leave but Frodo stopped him.

"You said you would continue your story today," he said, disappointedly.

Turning, Elrond considered his patient. "I think it would be better if you rested."

"I am resting. I am not sleepy and it will drive me mad to just lie here and stare at the ceiling. It will be much more restful to have someone to listen to . . . please?"

A little colour had come back into Frodo's cheeks and Elrond had always the ability to make him sleep if necessary. He pocketed the little bottle of medicine and pulled a chair up to the bedside. "Very well. But I reserve the right to stop if I deem it too stressful for you."

Frodo delved a little deeper into the warmth and comfort of his bunk, happier now that his stomach had stopped roiling. "Agreed."

0o0

His eyes aching, Elrond tried once more to check the column of figures before him. It was the third time he had started, and each time he had found himself, pen poised at the bottom of the list with no idea what the total was or what had distracted him. His mind seemed to wander in vague circles these days, unable to settle upon anything for more than a few minutes. He had even given up going to his library, for he would get to the end of a book and not be able to recall anything that he had read.

A familiar presence impinged upon his soul and he looked up as the door opened, automatically sending out a soft tendril of welcome to Celebrian. It's repulsion landed like a shock of ice water on his soul. She was still shuttered away from him . . . from everyone.

Celebrian stepped hesitantly into his study, hovering uncertainly near the open door. "I am sorry to disturb you. Do you know where Arwen is?"

"She has gone with the twins to see your father back to the borders of the valley and will not return until late this evening."

His wife's face fell and she bit her lip, holding her arm against her side. Elrond rose in concern.

"Is something wrong?"

Celebrian froze at the sudden movement, reminding her husband of a doe, poised to flee and he stood still behind his desk, watching emotions chase across her face. Fear . . . discomfort . . . resignation . . . determination.

"The bandage . . . it has come loose and I cannot manage it by myself," Celebrian admitted. She paused, gathering her courage before continuing. "Can . . . can you see to it for me?"

Not trusting himself to speak and guessing what the question had cost her, Elrond nodded and indicated a chair by the fire. She hesitated and then sat down and began to unlace her gown, sliding it down to reveal a bandage on her upper arm that was clearly unravelling.

Her husband collected salve and fresh bandages from a cabinet and approached her, slow and outwardly calm, trying to maintain a detached healer's demeanour when she flinched as he touched the arm. He paused for a moment, waiting and she took a deep breath and nodded for him to continue.

Elrond worked as quickly as possible, burying his emotions and trying to tell himself that this was just another patient, although his heart cried out in recognition at the soft rose perfume of her. For her part, Celebrian stared straight ahead, breathing through clenched teeth, body held stiff and tense. Her emotions were shrieking too loudly at the touch of a male to enable her to recognise any other thing about him.

When the work was finished Celebrian relaced her gown and Elrond stepped back, collecting the old bandages and putting away the salve. No words had been exchanged during the entire procedure but now Celebrian took a deep breath.

"Thank you. I am sorry for my reaction."

Elrond turned at once. "There is no need to be sorry my love. I know what you went through."

Ice blue eyes speared him and Elrond recoiled. "You "saw" what I went through but you cannot "know" what I went through. No male could."

Releasing himself from her gaze, Elrond took his chair opposite her and clasped his hands in his lap, trying to look as unthreatening as possible. "You are correct . . . and yet I believe I know more than you think. We are joined, you and I. When they violated you, they violated both of us."

Making a final adjustment to her gown, Celebrian looked up but the ice was still evident. "Then why did you not tell them what they wanted to know." Her eyes fell to his hand, where Vilya had been returned to its home while he was unconscious. Taking a deep breath he tried to explain.

"For a moment I wanted to . . . but I could not." He stopped, hoping that she would delve no deeper but she would not be put off now that she had gathered the courage to broach the subject.

"What do you mean . . . you "could" not?"

Elrond had considered long and hard in the days since the event. At first he had been furious with Celeborn and Galadriel. They had manipulated him and seemed to have abandoned their only daughter. Then he had considered again. Not only where they correct in putting the whole of Middle earth before their own child . . . but Elrond was not entirely sure that he would not have held back himself, at the last moment. Duty was too strongly instilled within his soul.

"I love you more than my life," he replied carefully. "But there were more than our lives concerned."

Celebrian bristled. "And so, as always, you put your duty first. Would you put it before Arwen's life . . . or the twins? You certainly put it before Tasare's."

Elrond blinked in confusion. "Tasare?"

Silver blue eyes flashed dangerously again. "Your daughter."

The room grew suddenly cold. After the initial agony of loss it had been easier for Elrond not to consider the child as a person. By giving her a name, Celebrian had suddenly labelled the large knot of grief in his soul and it sprang apart to lash him afresh. It took all his effort to bundle it up again. Perhaps he could deal with it later.

"I am what I have been chosen to be. I am a ringbearer and I am that first. You knew that when you bound yourself to me. I could wish that it were otherwise, but that would not make it so. The fate of many rests in my hands and by doing what I did I may have saved our children from the enemy."

"Three of them only and you could have as easily saved them by putting them on a ship. But, of course, you have to protect your precious ring. The thing that keeps you tied to this shadow filled land."

"It is not my ring. I am only it's bearer for a while. By protecting the ring I have protected my children and the children of many others." His voice was calm and placating but inwardly his heart was breaking. He longed to take her in his arms and share the grief, but at his slightest move he knew she would flee, the startled doe once more. He could think of no more wise words to say and fell back on the phrase that he seemed to be using so often nowadays.

"I am sorry, my love."

Celebrian said nothing . . . only treating him to a look of complete disdain before she rose and left the room on silent feet.

Elrond dropped his pounding head in his hands feeling that he could not even claim the luxury of tears.