A/N: I'm back with the next chapter. Oleanne, my most faithful (and as yet only) reviewer, here it comes. And all of you, you might want to keep a tissue box handy.

As always, I would love to hear from you.

Disclaimer: see chapter 1.

Warnings: angst, but you know this by now.

Chapter 7

Cold dread filled the ancient elf lord when he stepped into his son-in-law's bedroom. Elrond was gasping for air, worse than before, and he was trembling so hard that Erestor had trouble keeping him upright. "What happened?" he asked the Chief Advisor while he sat down by Elrond's side opposite of Erestor and helped him hold the fading elf steady.

"I do not know," Erestor replied in obvious distress. "He seems to have had a vision of sorts, and suddenly he could not breathe. He was saying something, but all I could make out was 'don't take her away'."

Celeborn nodded, switching positions to face Elrond, and tugged him forward so his head came to rest on his chest. "Hear my heartbeat," he instructed quietly, "and feel me breathing. Be calm, ion-nín. You are safe."

Elrond frantically shook his head against his father-in-law. "She's going ... to take her away. Please ... don't let her ... take her away ..." he panted.

"Who, Elrond?"

"Arwen ... she's going to ... take Arwen away ..."

An unkind word towards his wife crossed Celeborn's mind, but he could not bring himself to care. "No, she is not, ion-nín. She is not going to take Arwen anywhere." One hand gently splayed over the side of Elrond's head, the other between his shoulder blades, Celeborn held him close, trying to convey all his love and protection in that simple embrace.

After a moment he felt trembling arms wrap feebly around his middle, and a weary sigh against his chest. Then a whisper: "Thank you ... ada."

Silence fell over the room, a quiet, pensive sadness mingled with memories and longings. Glorfindel settled on the bed next to Erestor, shoulders touching, fingers brushing briefly as in unspoken consent they drew a blanket up to Elrond's shoulders. There their hands remained, connected to the one person they held dearest in this world.

Hours passed, the fire burning low and the rays of a barely crescent moon falling through the tall windows. Elrond was completely calm now, though not asleep. The gratitude he felt for the other three ellyn being with him and pouring out their love and care for him was beyond words. Settled back against the headboard again, propped up by pillows, tucked into the softest blankets and surrounded by his father-in-law and his two best friends, he felt safe ... and loved.

The realisation of how long it had been since he had last felt this way, and what he had suffered ever since, threatened to send another wave of pain through his heart, but this time he found himself fighting it. He would not let the hurt sully the precious, beautiful gift he was being given.

And yet it had disturbed the peace of the moment.

Almost desperate to regain it, Elrond glanced towards the window nearest to him, out into the night and up towards the starry sky. The stars in their ancient constancy had always been a source of inner calm to him.

Following his gaze, and sensing the subtle shift in his mood, Celeborn sat up a little. "What is it, ion-nín?"

"I'd like ... to see the stars," Elrond replied softly, and there was something so wistful in his words, something so pleading that Celeborn felt hot tears return to his eyes. He exchanged a look with Erestor and Glorfindel, who simply nodded in agreement.

Celeborn blinked back the traitorous tears and willed his voice to be steady. "Then we will take you to see the stars."

*LOTR*LOTR*LOTR*

"Do you have a favourite place to watch the stars?" Celeborn asked while he helped his son-in-law into a warm, soft robe and proceeded to put socks on his feet.

Elrond thought for a minute. Actually there were many places in Imladris from which one had a stunning view of the night sky; none of them, however, were as secluded as he wished them to be for a night like this. There was one spot that only few had ever seen as it belonged to the private quarters of the Peredhil family. It was also the one spot he could not stand to be at the moment, and maybe ever again, because the only access to it was through the bedroom that had once been his and Celebrían's.

"The balcony outside my study," he decided eventually.

"I will go and clear the path," Glorfindel said, glad that there was something to do for him. "Give me ten minutes, then come." And off he was.

Meanwhile Erestor made some fresh tea, enough for the four of them, and prepared another dose of the medicines the healer had left for Elrond. His friend took them without comment or complaint, which was disconcerting and encouraging at the same time: apparently he was too weak and weary to put up a fight, yet willing to try whatever it took to stay with the people he loved, even if it was only for a little longer.

It was a relatively short trip through the quiet hallways of the Last Homely House. There were not many people whom Glorfindel would have had to send the other way at this hour of the night, though both Erestor and Celeborn suspected the Golden Warrior mainly wanted to make sure that neither Galadriel nor Arwen were anywhere in sight. The silver-haired elf lord smiled a little at the thought that the Balrog Slayer was one of the few people in Middle Earth who dared to take on the Lady of Lothlórien. Even after ages of being married to Galadriel, there were days when he himself would rather face a Balrog than cross his wife, be it ever so unintentionally.

A brief look at his son-in-law whom he carried in his arms sobered him up instantly. When Celebrían and Elrond met, it was one of the most beautiful love stories he had ever seen unfold. No-one thought their love could ever end, even disregarding the fact that the love between a bonded couple of elves hardly ever did. And if it did, only few survived in Middle Earth – most sailed or faded.

But somehow the encroaching darkness had destroyed Celebrían's and Elrond's bond, even if Celeborn had yet to find out how exactly that had happened. Deep in his heart, he feared the answer.

*LOTR*LOTR*LOTR*

Turning the last corner to Elrond's study, Celeborn caught a brief glimpse of Haldir, who was discreetly stepping back into the shadows as they passed, so the Lord of Imladris would not know that he was there. Their eyes briefly locked, and Celeborn noticed the expression of sorrow on his Marchwarden's fair face. Then the small group entered the study, with Erestor closing the door behind them. However, Celeborn knew that Haldir would be keeping watch so that nobody disturbed them.

Glorfindel had put four chairs and a small table on the balcony, in keeping with their original idea to sit outside, watch the stars and sip tea. Celeborn made to settle Elrond in one of the chairs, but the half-elf shook his head. "Set me down on my feet, please," he requested quietly yet in a stronger voice than before.

He swayed for a brief moment, grateful for his father-in-law's arm around his back, but then found his balance and strode forward to the railing of the spacious balcony. Putting both hands on the cool stone, he turned his face up towards the night sky and drew a deep breath. A serene expression settled on his drawn features, his heart slowed to a more normal pace, and the persistent pain in his body receded.

"It is a beautiful night," he mused, glancing down at the silvery rippling surface of the Bruinen.

Then for the longest time nobody said a word. The only sounds were those of the softly rushing water of the river and the few nocturnal animals in the Hidden Valley.

The night is darkest just before the dawn. The ancient saying crossed Elrond's mind unbidden, and instinctively his gaze swept the night sky. This night was not dark, certainly not the darkest he had ever seen. Therefore dawn would be heralded by the fading of the stars. Was this where the saying came from? That the fading of one light made everything seem a little darker until an incomparably stronger light took over?

Something stirred in his soul, and he allowed himself to follow the gentle nudging. It was a memory, one that seemed very distant now, almost like from another life. And for all its beauty it plunged the night into deeper shadow, but not as a stronger light that was slowly taking over, but rather like a heavy rain cloud that suddenly drew across the moon and made one lose all sense of direction for a time.

"Celebrían and I used to spend many a night here," he whispered, almost without realising he was actually speaking the words. "She would come to draw me away from my work, and we would end up sitting out here until late, just watching the stars."

A small smile crossed Lord Celeborn's face. "She loved the stars, even when she was very young. She used to sneak out to a clearing, lie down in the grass and look up at the night sky." He paused, turned his face up at the sky, and whispered: "Maybe she is doing it now in the Undying Lands."

"Maybe," Elrond conceded. "If only she has something she finds joy in again ...," his voice trailed off, sad and pensive.

"She will heal. In time, she will heal and be happy again," Celeborn assured him. "And when the time comes for you to be reunited, your love will be restored to its former beauty and beyond."

Elrond suppressed a sob and shook his head. "I hope so," he ground out eventually. "I truly hope so, because in the end, she hated me."

The words were out before he could stop himself and hung in the air, turning it to ice.

Celeborn looked thunderstruck. "She did not hate you," he disagreed emphatically. "She loved you, more than anything. Maybe she was not able to show it in the end, but–"

Elrond whirled around, eyes blazing. "No, she didn't! Not in the end. She hated me!" he shouted. "She told me she hated me!"

Celeborn stared at him in utter shock. He looked from his son-in-law to the two seneschals who were standing just a few feet away, silently begging them to deny what Elrond had screamed out in despair – but they just looked back at him with stony faces.

"She said she hated me for not letting her die, and she showed me every day! She did not talk to me. When she saw me, she went the other way. She looked at me as if I was one of her tormentors. And when I accidentally touched her, she hit me. Don't tell me she loved me, because she didn't. Not anymore!"

Chest heaving, Elrond let his arms fall to his sides, and his voice dropped to a desperate whisper. "And she forbade me to sail. She said she'd rather kill herself than spend eternity with me!" His breath hitched and he swayed on the spot. "She just should have killed me then and there."

Celeborn struggled to take it all in. This was worse than he had imagined, but, if he was completely honest with himself, exactly what he had feared. It was even worse than the violation to their marriage bond that the orcs had inflicted.

And his loyal, faithful son-in-law had carried his own wounds in silence, exposing himself to all sorts of suspicions and ugly whispers, just to protect his wife's dignity and reputation.

No wonder he was fading.

Shaking himself out of his state of consternation, Celeborn took three quick steps towards Elrond, caught him in a firm embrace and held him safely. "She was wrong," he choked out between hitching breaths. "She was wrong, and what she did was cruel. She had no right to do that, and you did not deserve any of it. I am so sorry for all the pain she caused you. And I am sorry you had to bear this burden all alone."

Elrond clung to him, all but unable to breathe as all the hurt and pain and grief and despair of the past year broke forth in a storm of tears. The enormity of all that had happened crashed down on father and son-in-law, bringing them to their knees.

Now that all was out in the open, they could finally truly grieve over what they had lost.

Just a short distance from them, four others were standing in the dark of the night, locked in a firm embrace, weeping, taking and giving comfort in equal measure.

A few rooms away, a golden-haired figure sank down to the floor in front of her open window, for the first time in millennia crying tears of guilt and shame.