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Dark
Memories: Shadows of the Past
by: DLR 2002
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Chapter 31
"We have been over this Naneth,"* sighed Celebrían.
"Indeed we have," agreed Galadriel, "and my mind remains the same, you are a Noldorin princess, you will not marry a Silvan gatekeeper."
"I love Halmír," said Celebrían, looking at the floor and biting her lip.
"Which is why we left Lórinand to begin with," stated Galadriel angrily, "to enable you to forget those feelings."
Celebrían looked stubborn. "Separation will not achieve that."
"I disagree," said Galadriel. "This is merely a childish infatuation, in time, you will recover from it."
"I am not a child, and it will never disappear," declared Celebrían angrily.
"Your actions speak louder than your words," said Galadriel coldly. There was a pause as mother and daughter glared at each other.
Galadriel closed her eyes and sighed, changing the subject. "I have noted the way Lord Elrond looks at you, his suit would be very agreeable to me, should he choose to pursue it."
Celebrían looked apprehensive and her anger melted. "There is something about him that frightens me, he is filled with anger and he seems so troubled."
"I have noticed that of which you speak," Galadriel agreed. "But he is not angry with you; I do not doubt that he would show you anything but love."
Celebrían remained unconvinced. "I do not think that I am the one destined to tame that anger."
"It seems to be your fate to try," said her mother firmly, "the mirror has foretold it."
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Her voice came to him in his dreams and he heeded her call, following. "Celebrían," he whispered and she turned and paused, waiting.
His hands reached for her garment and he slipped it off her shoulders, dropping it to the floor. Her beauty stood revealed to his appreciative gaze. "Meleth-nîn," he whispered, reaching out to caress her bare skin. She melted into his arms and he engaged her in a deep passionate kiss.
He closed his eyes, touching her, fondling her, feeling her hands returning his attentions, softly caressing him at the very source of his arousal.
"Ohhh," he moaned and his eyelids flickered open to behold the leering face of Gil-galad. "No!" he yelled, sitting up, immediately awake, his heart beating rapidly.
He ran his fingers through his hair and hugged himself, waiting for the calmness that would come to him eventually.
Gil-galad is not here, he has gone back to Lindon, do not distress yourself. Think about Celebrían, his mind said, and it was good advice, relaxing and pleasant, in spite of the unsated passion that continued to grow in him with each passing day.
He had done something to frighten her; he could feel it, although he had not a clue as to what. She seemed so shy, avoiding him perhaps. Well, you are making progress, he grinned wryly at himself. At least you do not vomit at the sight of her.
Elrond sighed and grew weary of these unanswered questions. He drifted back into considerations of how she might look beneath the robe. He smiled and fell back to sleep with this pleasant image in his mind.
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Lightning storms in the mountains arrived quickly, with no warning, the intensity magnified by the echoes resounding off the rocky walls and canyons.
The first thunderclap startled Elrond and he swore as the plants he had been gathering spilled out of his bag into the bushes. He spent too much time retrieving them, but they were rare, some of them, and the gathering of the herbs had taken up the better part of the day, so he was loathe to leave them scattered there.
The rain was falling in torrents long before he had picked up enough to feel satisfied. The storm was an intense one, even to Elrond, who had grown accustomed to the weather in the mountains over the years.
He began to realize a bit late that he should find shelter immediately. He looked around, gauging his position. His vision was obscured by the sheets of rain, but he thought he had to be fairly close to a cave that he knew of, and he started to head towards it.
Elrond paused suddenly, listening. Could that be sobbing that reached his ears? The booming thunder drowned out lesser noises, and he struggled to hear through nature's din.
His ears led him to the sound finally, and to his great distress, he found Celebrían, clinging to a tree trunk, weeping with fear. "Lady," he shouted above the noise of the storm, putting his hand to her shoulder.
She became aware of him and transferred her arms from the tree to Elrond, clinging to him.
"I cannot walk," she said, crying. "I have injured my ankle," and she showed him the joint in question, bruised and swollen.
"Allow me to carry you," he shouted, and she nodded in agreement. Her arms encircled his neck and he scooped her up, marveling at how light she was. They held onto each other tightly as Elrond fought his way through the wind and rain to the cave he had in mind earlier.
It was a shallow enclosure with a wide opening, so in essence, it was more of a large overhang of rock, rather than a real cave.
Elrond laid Celebrían gently on the floor and sat beside her with a sigh of relief, grateful for even the small amount of shelter the cave afforded them.
Celebrían opened her eyes to find Elrond looking at her with concern. "How did you injure your ankle?"
She sighed. "The storm broke and I was frightened. I tripped and fell over a root."
Elrond gave her a judgmental look. "You should not have been out here this far alone to begin with. What were you doing?"
She sighed again. "Do not start with me please, you are sounding just like Adar*. I was merely walking, trying to think, nothing else."
Elrond snorted, but refrained from further admonitions. "May I look at it?"
"Please do," she responded, and lifting her leg, offered it to him. Elrond took her foot into his lap and with gentle fingers, began to massage the swollen appendage. He bent her ankle this way and that, inquiring if movement was painful.
"Oh," she grimaced. "Yes, that hurts, terribly."
Elrond completed his diagnosis. "You have no broken bones, merely a muscle strain."
Celebrían could not take her eyes off of him as he continued to knead her foot and ankle, his long slender fingers easing her pain. The hands of a healer. She recalled hearing somewhere that he was descended from Lúthien, who, being half Maia, was the most beautiful elven maiden to ever walk the paths of Middle-earth. She could see that beauty reflected in Elrond's face, for he was startlingly handsome, in the rare moments when he was not scowling at someone.
His deep, dark eyes were a reflection of his soul, she thought, serene, yet stormy, hinting of passionate fires, hidden just below the surface.
She had seldom seen an elf with black hair, such as his, most of the elves of Lórinand were very blond. She found herself looking at his shoulders and chest, his muscles visible through the thin rain-soaked shirt he wore.
He looked up at her suddenly and she blushed, embarrassed to be caught staring at him. He took no notice of her discomfort, his eyes being drawn to her breasts, where he could clearly view her every attribute through the wet fabric that clung to the curves of her body.
He reddened as well and returned his attention to her ankle, trying desperately to quiet his labored breathing and the quick pounding of his heart. Control yourself. She is an innocent and already frightened of you. Moreover she is too young for you to be thinking such thoughts of her. Be calm.
Celebrían giggled self-consciously. "I must look like a sight," she murmured, misinterpreting his stare. "Now I know how a drowned rat feels."
Elrond smiled at her jest and his entire face was transformed, so pleasant and endearing that she wondered why she had spent the last few years thinking him forbidding, unapproachable. She suddenly remembered about Halmír, and she bit her lip in distress, guiltily pushing that unwelcome thought away.
"The storm is passing," Elrond observed. "Shall we test the strength of your ankle?"
Celebrían nodded, but her mouth tightened in apprehension. His arm encircled her back and he pulled her onto her feet. She winced in pain as she unsuccessfully attempted to put weight on the injury.
Elrond lifted his eyebrows. "Well then, it appears you will need some assistance."
"I have no wish to be a burden to you," she started.
"You are not," he interrupted, "not in the least."
Elrond picked up his bag of plants and indicated she should climb on his back. Celebrían smiled and complied, her arms encircling his neck as he hooked his elbows beneath her knees. She wearily laid her head against his back and almost dozed as he made the long trek back to the house.
Elrond entered the Hall of Healing and laid Celebrían gently down upon a bed. He made a fire and heated a kettle of water as he selected jars from the shelves. She watched him intently, wondering why every little detail about him, the way he looked, the way he moved, seemed so interesting to her, all of a sudden.
Elrond was preoccupied, mixing a poultice for her swollen ankle. When he deemed the concoction complete, he spread it on a piece of cloth.
Celebrían regarded it with distaste, wrinkling her nose. "Eww, I hope that is not for me."
"Indeed it is," replied Elrond. "Present your injury to me please."
She complied with great reluctance and he appeared not to notice her discomfort as he wrapped the pungent mixture around her foot.
"We will leave this on until it cools, and then we will apply cold, to bring down the swelling."
Celebrían looked at him with wide eyes. "You are a Hîrnested?"
"I have enough knowledge to claim that title." Elrond saw her puzzled expression. "What is it?"
"I . . . I . . . it is nothing," she stammered, her face turning pink. "It seems there is much about you that I have been unaware of all this time."
"Ah," he said, his eyes twinkling, "and I of you, as well. For example, I am totally unaware of your favorite color."
Celebrían smiled. "You jest with me."
"Nay," said Elrond, trying hard to look serious. "I wish to know."
She acquiesced, reluctantly. "Well, all right, although it seems so trivial. It is the blue of a clear summer's sky."
"This does not surprise me," murmured Elrond. "Although no hue could be as beautiful as the one that is reflected in your eyes."
She responded by gazing into his for a long moment and time seemed to stand still. Elrond broke the stare first and looked away, his face flushed as he seemed to be struggling inwardly with some strong emotion.
He removed the cold cloths from her ankle and reached for some long strips of fabric. "I will now bind this firmly to give it some support and keep the swelling down as well."
He proceeded to encase the injury with the bandages. "You will stay in bed and keep this elevated."
Celebrían sighed. "Stay in bed? For how long?"
"A fortnight, at the least," replied Elrond. "This is quite a severe sprain."
She groaned. "Aiee, I will die of boredom."
Elrond gave her a bemused smile. "What do you like to read? I will bring you books."
"Very little," she admitted. "Study is boring to me."
"Did I say textbooks? Story books, I meant."
"Still," she shrugged. "I do not read much."
"I would enjoy reading to you," Elrond offered.
Celebrían brightened, smiling. "I would enjoy that as well."
He smiled back at her, and his troubled soul suddenly felt a great peace, for the first time in nearly two thousand years.
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*Mother
*Father
A/N: I do not pretend to have any knowledge of herbal remedies, so don't look at that too closely. ;)