Third Age, 2510

A maiden clad in black silk woven with silver stars came up behind Elladan and Elrohir, bowing before Elrond. 'My lord,' she said; 'my ladies are coming.'

Elrond nodded, and the twins took up their places on either side of the two chairs. The master of the house stepped forward to the door as his lady descended the long staircase. She was clothed in a soft blue gown with trailing sleeves and a curling train, and leaned upon the arm of her escort, clothed in grey with sombre quicksilver eyes and hair like the shadows of the night. Elrond watched them, his heart constricting in untold emotion. He stepped forward and took his lady's hand, and the weight of supporting her was transferred from her escort's arm to his. He took his place by her side with the grace of his foremothers' people, and led her into the Hall of Fire, where her people awaited her on the night of her last appearance as their mistress and their queen.
He could feel her trembling against him as they crossed the room, and eased her smoothly into her chair, ensuring her comfort before seating himself beside her. The one who had bathed and clothed her and plaited sapphires into her hair knelt at Celebrían's feet, white hands folded into her lap. With their sons on either side and their daughter before them, Elrond gazed at his wife and felt himself tugged back into the past.