CW: Death, war, violent scene, possibly graphic
I had made a couple of conjectures around the time Elrond suddenly joined the Bib-and-Brace Club. The first was that with this astonishing display of acquiescing to peer pressure and most likely an attempt to win Celebrían's approval (not that he didn't already have it), that things between Elrond and Celebrían would finally take off.
The second was that now that it had reached the high point of Elrond joining, the frequency of which we wore our overalls would drop back down to strictly necessary gardening tasks.
My second projection was spot on; my first, however, was dead wrong. About two months after her fidget beads were finished, Celebrían went back to Lothlórien with her parents, her fingers no longer bloody, and her nails as healthy as ever.
Thus began an incredibly long stretch of the everyday. Entire centuries would stretch by in which no events of historical or personal significance occurred. Not that there was anything wrong with it; the everyday was fantastic. I loved spending time with Bregedúr, Glorfindel, and Elrond, and it only got better when Gil-Galad and Celebrían swung by. I was getting very good at fighting, now, and had a wild time thrashing it out with Bregedúr or Glorfindel or whoever had time for it. They'd even given me command over a small legion of my own, which was pretty cool. The clinic mostly dispensed life advice now that a relative calm had settled over the valley. The overalls were still brought out on special occasions (though Elrond never wore his in front of anyone except us). It was happy enough.
With that said, I couldn't believe the way things between Elrond and Celebrían had stayed so… identical. His pulse would still hammer when they spoke, whether it had been 2 days or a millennium and a half. Thankfully, in this time, any rumour about me and Gil-Galad had been put to rest (except on the occasions when I ribbed him about it in private).
I was starting to think that maybe everything would just continue on this way for eternity (by this point, it had been over 1700 years), and of course, precisely at the moment I started to entertain that thought, everything started to get shaken up.
It was a pleasantly warm afternoon in September. I had been sitting in my office with the door open and when I looked up, I saw a characteristic auburn-headed blur shoot past.
When I went outside, I saw her banging on the door to Elrond's office forcefully.
"Bregedúr!" I called to her, and when she turned to face me, I gasped. She looked exhausted and terrified. I ran over, putting an arm under her for support, and hammered on Elrond's door.
When Elrond opened the door, he caught sight of the two of us and looked alarmed. I guided Bregedúr inside, put her on a seat in his study, and made to leave when Elrond called to me.
"Rhodri."
I turned around, waiting for him to speak.
"I think you had better fetch Glorfindel and Erestor, and then stay for this report. Please also bring some miruvor for Bregedúr along the way."
I nodded, and dashed out, bolting as fast as my legs could carry me to find Erestor, Glorfindel, and then to grab the miruvor. I returned some minutes later with the three deliveries. Elrond took the bottle and poured a small glass for Bregedúr, who downed it in one go. She looked instantly better after that, and after a deep breath, she began to speak.
"Sauron's forces have grown incredibly strong. There is industry as far as the eye can see from such a distance as a little beyond the Fangorn Forest. The sky is black over Mordor from all the smoke. Patrols were everywhere further south. I was able to get close enough to hear one say that they would begin to make for the east if they could get more troops."
My stomach dropped, and we all looked at each other numbly.
"That is not all," she continued. "I retreated and travelled further south, and could see forces from Mordor moving south to the Harad lands. I saw corsair ships coming down the Anduin from time to time also. If Sauron can win their alliance, they will probably outnumber us even if we allied with all the other free races of Middle-Earth."
For a while, nothing was said. Elrond was gripping the armrest on his chair so hard his knuckles were turning white. Erestor and Glorfindel had their hands over their mouths, and I put a hand on Bregedúr's shoulder.
"We will need messages sent out immediately to Lothlórien, Lindon, Gondor, Arnor, Khazad-dûm, and Mirkwood, Erestor," Elrond said. "They need this news, and to avail themselves to meet here at the earliest opportunity." Erestor nodded and swiftly the room, his navy robes trailing out behind him.
Elrond turned to face Glorfindel and me. "Imladris will have to increase production of arms and defence goods," he said with resolve. "Stockpiling non-perishable food must become a focus as well, and we must create large reserves of medicines."
"I will go to the forge and the carpenters now, then," I said, standing up
"And I to the harvesters and chemists," said Glorfindel.
We both nodded at Elrond and Bregedúr and departed quickly.
Bregedúr's keen eye and intuition snapped us up extra preparation time. Because of her, Gil-Galad and Elendil had two years to gather as many forces as they could, and they all made for Imladris.
It was strange seeing Gil-Galad again—I was happy, of course. I had missed him terribly, but at the same time, we were not really in a state of mind to be happy or playful like we usually were. Gil-Galad, Elrond, Glorfindel, Bregedúr, and I would still meet of an afternoon when we could, but to call it Happy Hour would have been absurd. Things were grim, and the terrifying futility of it all hung over all of us in a suffocating way. Still, we knew, though we never said it, that we would rather be together feeling that way than alone.
Three more years of non-stop industry went on as battle plans were laid out in Imladris before we eventually set out. We made our way south, following the Anduin, and picked up the Mirkwood and Lothlórien forces as we went. Some time after that, more Númenórean forces turned up along with a Dwarf army.
Just outside of the Fangorn Forest, we were ambushed by a force Sauron had sent out earlier that had taken out most, if not all of the Entwives dwelling in the region, and that marked the start of years of horrific, bloody battles.
And the losses, my god. They were absolutely catastrophic. In one of the earlier battles, I found out that Oropher had been slain through Bregedúr, who reported it through heavy tears. I hadn't seen much of Oropher since the last phase of Legolas' exposure therapy, but I'd had numerous accounts of how much warmer and friendlier he had become, particularly toward Legolas and Bregedúr.
The Battle of Dagorlad, on the plains that stretched out before Mordor, was the most devastating, both personally and statistically. I had a terrible feeling something was going to go wrong in this battle, and so I stuck particularly close to my four friends to keep an eye on them.
We were outnumbered, but fortunately, we were well equipped and very skilled fighters, so eventually started to overwhelm Sauron's forces, but they came in wave after wave in seemingly endless supply.
We had gotten through about three-quarters of Mordor's forces, still very much in the thick of it, when a particularly large group of Orcs surrounded us on all sides and proceeded to demolish our forces from the outside in. Heavy loss happened on both sides, but it dissipated the outer ring enough that we were able to spread out. I got separated from Glorfindel and Bregedúr in the chaos, but could still see Elrond and Gil-Galad.
Gil-Galad fought exceptionally well. I looked up in time to see him swipe the heads clean off of three Orcs. The coast clear then, he turned around and he looked terrified as he shouted to Elrond, "Behind you!"
Elrond reacted in time to save his own skin, and I screamed to Gil-Galad to turn back around when I saw what was coming, but I was too late. Another Orc had come out of nowhere and hacked its filthy sword straight into the back of his head. Elrond and I both watched in silent horror as our dearly loved friend toppled, already dead before he hit the ground.
The dull thud that resulted snapped us out of the stranglehold our shock had had us in. Elrond let out a shout and ran over to him, and I knew he wasn't thinking straight. I felt a wave of panic grip me at the thought of losing another friend, and so followed Elrond, essentially making sure nothing dangerous could get to him. He wasn't going to accept Gil-Galad was dead without making absolutely sure first.
When I had a moment, I went over to Elrond. He was kneeling over Gil-Galad, checking his pulse again and again.
"We need to keep pushing just a little bit longer, El," I said to him gently.
"We cannot just leave him here," Elrond whispered, looking up at me pleadingly.
"Don't worry, he'll be safe here until we finish up," I knelt down and slipped off my cape, draping it over Gil-Galad like a blanket, and then tenderly closed his eyes.
"There we go," I said. "He'll be fine like this until we can come back."
Elrond didn't have time to decide whether or not to continue kneeling, because the final wave of enemies were coming for us. Together, we jumped up and shot into the masses again.
Some time later, the war finally drew to a close, the forces of Mordor having been totally obliterated, and our own not far off it. I found Glorfindel and Bregedúr still alive, and took them back with me to where Gil-Galad was. The four of us used our capes to bear our buddy to somewhere that he could be buried with the dignity he deserved. Glorfindel and Bregedúr sobbed the whole walk back. Elrond and I went without a sound, dry-eyed and hollow.
In preparation for the funeral, Elrond had taken it upon himself to wash and prepare Gil-Galad's body. The meticulousness Elrond was known for showed in how carefully and gently he attended to his friend, every now and again still checking for a pulse as he went.
The funeral itself was painful, with gut-wrenchingly sad songs and lamentations that went on until after Gil-Galad had been placed into the grave and it was filled. Hardly anyone was there- only a handful of people besides the four of us, though most of the people who would have attended such a funeral lay dead in the field we brought him back from.
The ride back to Imladris seemed to take forever. The four of us rode abreast, and I could count on both hands the number of words we said each day.
We barely slept, seldom ate, and never smiled. It was a living nightmare.
When we eventually arrived home, we stood in the corridor for a moment, not quite knowing what to do with ourselves. The majority of the residents had either been killed in the wars, or were spouses who died of grief shortly after, so it felt like we had come back to a ghost town.
I had to really stir my brain to think of anything, and eventually said, "Let's go to the music room for a little bit."
The others looked at me blankly and nodded. We sat inside the usually busy room by ourselves, huddled together as I strummed on the guitar, and it was there that we slept that night.
The weeks that passed slowly saw things return to some kind of freakish new normal. We started to become used to the once-deafening silence and poverty of inhabitants, taking what little scraps of noise and contact that we could get our hands on.
Bregedúr went to Mirkwood shortly after to offer comfort to Legolas and Thranduil. Elrond became busy again with the usual paperwork and trade deals that had defined much of his career thus far, as did Glorfindel. Me, I re-opened the clinic, albeit with fewer hours. Not that that was much of a problem, given the number of potential clients that were still alive.
Thankfully, new life started to flow in after a while, too. Celebrían came to visit again, which was a relief to all of us, but especially to Elrond. She was especially tender and sweet with him, and for the first time in ages, he finally started to show signs of improving.
Celebrían had started being a little more open with her affections, possibly in the guise of offering sympathy, and he drank it up like medicine. But Elrond was not open back with her, and I had a sneaking feeling that it was starting to hurt Celebrían. She stayed for an entire year, and then departed for Lothlórien, and still nothing had changed between them.
I spent a day or two after Celebrían's departure debating with myself in my office whether or not I should take this up with Elrond, thus blowing my 1700 year cover. In the end, though, I couldn't stand it, and I got up and went to his study, rapping my knuckles smartly on his door.
A voice from inside invited me to enter, which I did. Elrond, who had been writing at his desk, looked up at me and said, "Oh, hello, Rhodri," placidly. "It has been quite a while since we had Happy Hour, hasn't it? Come, let us sit on the balcony with a wine."
I nodded politely and strolled out with him to our familiar spot.
"Is something on your mind, Rhodri?" he asked as he filled my glass with a tipple of something rich and red. "You seem rather preoccupied."
"To be truthful with you, Elrond, I do have something bouncing around in my head," I said, gratefully taking the glass he offered me. "And you know, I think you do, too."
He looked at me, rather confused. "What do you mean?"
I sighed. "Look, I wanted to stay out of this, but we're best friends, and I can't let you make this mistake."
Elrond was now thoroughly bewildered. "The apple trade deal with Gondor? But you said-"
"No, Elrond," I interrupted him gently. "Celebrían."
He froze. "What about Celebrían?"
"Oh, Elrond, darling," I moaned. "I've known you're in love with Celebrían for over 1700 years now."
"I-" was all Elrond could get out. He was redder than his wine now. "Rhodri," he eventually spluttered indignantly, "You are not my psychologist!"
"Of course I'm not!" I snapped back. "We're not paid to do what I'm about to do. Listen, I know you're in love with her, and surely- surely- you must know she feels the same way about you."
"Don't be ridiculous," he thundered. "There is nothing of that nature there."
"What, you think she came all the way from Lothlórien to sit around with Glorfindel, do you?"
"I've had enough of this," Elrond said, and stood up. I got up as well, and with a tiny wave of my hand, the balcony door shut. He turned around and looked at me, outraged.
"You're not going anywhere until we talk this out," I said firmly.
"Let me go, Rhodri," he enunciated with forced calm.
"Absolutely not, Elrond. You've had 1700 years to sort this out, and now your window of opportunity is about to close. Sit down."
Elrond went to turn the doorknob and found that the door was locked tightly in place. Now absolutely fraught, he unleashed a string of obscene insults at me before finishing with, "I TOLD YOU, YOU'RE NOT MY PSYCHOLOGIST!"
I couldn't remember him ever shouting before. He was seldom angry, but when he was, he never showed it with loudness. This was a sign that it was unlikely to be anger. No, this was fear. He was screaming like a cornered alley cat, and I knew the only way to get through to him now was to deliver a shock.
I grew myself up to a height that made me tower over him, and zipped over to the door scarily quickly.
"You're going to wish I was your psychologist in a fucking minute, mate," I whispered in a dangerous voice. He stared up at me, still charged enough to lash out if he wanted to, but a little confused. "SIT DOWN, GOD DAMN YOU!" I roared at him.
That did it. He'd never been shouted at before, and I imagine he thought I was one of the more unlikely candidates to ever do so. He was so shaken that he said nothing as he took his hand off the doorknob and shambled back to his seat.
I shrank myself back to my regular self and resumed my spot beside him.
"Elrond, look," I said gently. "Celebrían's wild about you. I know you love her, too. I heard you catch your breath when you first saw her. I've watched you blush when you see her and witnessed your heart hammering while you talk for nearly two millennia now. There can be absolutely no doubt how you both feel."
He said nothing, staring at his knees with a blank expression, but I knew he was listening.
"But you know, mate," I continued, "You've both kept up this sort of platonic facade the entire time, and it's reaching a point where this thing between you two will go one way, or the other. Celebrían's not going to wait forever, because it's hurting her now."
"She should find another, then," Elrond hissed.
"She doesn't want another, Elrond. She wants you," I said simply. "Honey, this is exactly what you want. The first member of that family you've been dreaming of has shown up, and you're moments away from losing them. Why, why would you do this to yourself, Elrond? Why would you do it to her?"
"You've seen how they all go, Rhodri," Elrond cried, looking at me desperately. "They all get taken away at some point or another!"
"Elrond, life is a gamble. Don't think I don't know how you feel. I told you what happened back in London. It hurts, mate, it hurts terribly, but you can't lock yourself away from others and never allow yourself to be happy again! Do you wish you had never met Gil-Galad?"
Elrond looked wounded at my question. "No, of course not," he said shortly, looking at the floor.
"Not for a second. You loved him dearly, and he loved you right back. The pain that came with losing him was worth it all, wasn't it?"
He nodded numbly, tears starting to roll down his cheeks. The dam was about to burst and I knew it, so I had to get the point across before no more information could get in.
"You know, El, Celebrían adores you, and I think you two could have an absolutely exceptional life together that you're not going to regret for a second." I got down on one knee in front of him and put one hand on his. "Let yourself be loved for once, Elrond."
And that was it. The last threads of Elrond's composure snapped, and he started to sob. He must have been holding that in since Gil-Galad died. He was crying so hard that his breath only came in at gasps occurring every thirty seconds. He allowed himself to be gently set on the ground beside me where I could put my arm around him and let him cry into my shoulder. We sat there like that for two hours, long after the dinner bell had rung and the stars had come out.
Eventually, though, like all liquids that are being expended faster than they are being replaced, Elrond ran out of tears. When he dried up enough, I slowly helped him to his feet, and with a snap of my fingers, the door opened and we went inside his study.
"Now, darling friend, what are you going to do with yourself?" I asked him gently.
"I think it might be time for an emergency trip to Lothlórien," he said quietly.
"You know, if you head out now, you might even catch Celebrían on the way," I said with a wink.
"Do you think… should I?" he asked seriously.
"Why waste any more time, mate?" I returned with a shrug.
He nodded, and strode over to the coatrack where his travelling cloak hung and slung it on.
"I'll sort stuff out here, don't worry, you just get a move on," I said, cutting him off just as he pointed to his desk. He smiled and nodded. Just as he went to open the door, I spoke again.
"Oh, Elrond?"
He turned around.
I walked up to him, blushing a little. "I'm really terribly sorry for using such violent, angry tones at you back there."
Elrond giggled, pulled me into a short, tight embrace, and said, "You're a great best friend, Rhodri," before zipping out the door.
