note from LadyErestor: the next chapter from this fic will not be up until Tuesday or Wednesday of next week...friday, I'm off to see The Hobbit lol

On with Crackers chappie...

CHAPTER 37

By the time Isowen realized that there was an arm across her shoulders, it was being removed with all the force of a whirlwind, prompting loose wisps of hair into motion in the wake of its flight. Isowen glanced up, rubbing watery eyes and blinking furiously to keep the tears at bay; greeting her eyes was the reason for the arm's departure.

But a few feet from Elladan- and scarcely more from Isowen- stood Galadriel, clad (as usual) in white, but the Lady's typically ramrod-straight posture was now even more rigid than was its wont. In anger? wondered a fleeting thought of the healer's daughter. The ancient elleth certainly seemed to exude the emotion.

"Hello, Amilinya.*" Elladan's voice was pathetically feeble.

"Greetings, my lady," managed Isowen.

"Greetings to the both of you," answered Galadriel, cobalt eyes slowly probing each of their faces. "May I ask as to what prompts you to-" She paused; a spark of realization ignited in that same gaze. A laugh, light and brief, followed it. "I see."

Conversations like this, Isowen noted, must be what gains her such a reputation for aloofness. The Lady seemed to be talking half to herself; her condescending tone dripped with the pride she was famous for.

"I come bearing good tidings, then," Galadriel continued. "Erestor lives, and not only that, has been bound to Elithraniel."

Elladan's eyebrows raced up his countenance; Isowen gasped. Soon, they were both grinning somewhat foolishly, chuckling as they brushed their tears away.

"That's wonderful," Elladan replied, after several moments of silent recovery. "I suppose everything has been reconciled with Grandfather, then. How ridiculous that it took something such as this to-" He stopped himself short as Galadriel began to smile sadly, shaking her head.

"No," she stated flatly, "they wedded without his permission, and that, I fear, has only served to worsen matters. They have my full consent, but Lord Celeborn remains as stubborn as ever."

Isowen wanted to inquire further, but her tongue clung adamantly to the roof of her mouth. Galadriel's entire demeanour intimidated her terribly; she felt any word she said to the Lady would be judged harshly, viewed by that prideful mind as lowly and inadequate.

Elladan spoke the question lingering in the back of her throat. "How were they bound in... his condition? Or has he improved enough to speak vows and all a wedding entails?"

Galadriel laughed softly. "Nay, he was not conscious for the ceremony. But to be bound to Elithraniel was the only way to save him; it took the melding of their fëa to bring him the necessary healing."

"Does Grandf-" Elladan attempted.

"Yes, Lord Celeborn was informed of the circumstances surrounding their wedding." The Lady turned her golden head to glance quickly at a tall figure emerging into the garden. "But I have faith that he will see reason."

TBC...