Author's Notes: Yes! My finals are done and I'm home for the summer! This means I'll have more time to write, though I'll be working as well. Thanks everyone for waiting patiently while I tried to come up with ideas for this chapter. As thanks for your patience, this chapter is the longest one to date. I promise this fic is going to probably get more crazy now that I'm home and in close contact with some of my inspirational friends. (You guys know who you are.) This chapter takes place the day after the events in chapter 3.
I recently was listening to the soundtrack for the movie/play 1776. Can anyone spot my little 1776 reference?
Plot Bunny thanks go to:
Genki neko-chan: Ah my little kitty who never fails to get me in that one mood where creative ideas flow. My story is the ice cream and your ideas are the toppings. And my attempt at poetic writing sucks.
Fairy Hedgehog: In truth, it was your idea that spawned the plot for half of this chapter. You have my deepest thanks.
Thinking in * *
Chapter 4: Advice and Schizophrenia
"It just would not stop. He simply kept snoring and snoring and I could not sleep. He has taken over the bed and so I am forced to sleep in a chair that I have been meaning to get rid of for the last hundred years or so because it is too uncomfortable. I wanted to fix myself something to calm my nerves, but all of my food and herbs had been sacrificed to his abominable attempts at 'culinary art'. My home smells of decaying corpses because of his experimentation in creating his own love potions. My books are in complete disarray. Many might say that they were always in disarray, but they were in an order that I preferred. Now they are scattered about because of him. I tried to tell him to leave, but he just stared at me with those wide, puppy-dog eyes and it made my heart melt. I have never been able to turn a tearful elf away before and now my weakness is driving me completely insane! If I am forced to listen to his snores again, I fear that I may be driven to homicide. Yet I can not murder the Lord of Lórien, for that would be treason. Then again, is it not also treason to speak of murdering him? Even worse, is it not treason to even think of murdering him? NO! I HAVE BECOME A TRAITOR TO THE REALM I SWORE TO PROTECT!"
"Peace, brother!" Orophin winced as Haldir ranted on. His elder brother was lying flat on his back atop a couch near the border of the city and had been babbling on about the past two days Celeborn had spent in his house since their guard shift had begun. Orophin was vigorously massaging his temples in an attempt to stay the headache that Haldir's endless talk had caused when he finally yelled for his elder brother to stop.
Orophin's sudden outburst stopped Haldir in mid-rant. The elven guard's eyes widened in fear and a tiny whimper escaped from his mouth. Orophin had never yelled before and Haldir was worried if his younger brother had gone mad.
Orophin sighed in relief as Haldir shut up. "Dear brother, I have never seen you so distressed before. You have always been the most stoic of all the Galadrim in times of crisis. What has brought this sudden change upon you?"
"Your sanity would be in danger as well if you were forced to house your lord for the past two days," Haldir grumbled in a low voice.
"Are you sure that it is just Lord Celeborn that is to blame. From the way you are reacting to the situation, it would appear to me that he has simply triggered a great deal of anger that you have been repressing for some time."
Haldir's face scrunched up as he tried to recall past memories. "I suppose you are right, brother. I believe it all started when I was still an elfling. Having been the first born, Mother and Father always doted on me," His eyes narrowed in resentment. "But then you and Rúmil were born. From then on, nothing I did was good enough for mummy-dearest. It was always 'Orophin this' and 'Rúmil that'! Everything that you two did wrong, I was always blamed for. Mother and Father's denial of my very existence finally forced me to leave at an early age. Now that I think about it, my life would have been much more stable if you two had never been born. That is it! The reason I am so angry is because my two spoiled little brats of brothers destroyed my life!"
Haldir would have continued, but Orophin decided to land a solid punch on his elder brother's jaw. The younger of the two stalked off into the forest, fully intent on getting transferred to a different post in Lórien that kept him as far away from his "dear brother" as elvenly possible.
"Wait!" Haldir called after him. "Does this mean you will not help me?"
"Help you!" Orophin snarled. "If you want help, then go find yourself an actual psychiatrist!"
As Orophin disappeared into the trees, Haldir rolled off of the couch and headed for a different guard post. *If Orophin will not aid me, then I shall have to revert to plan B.*
* * *
The Lady of Lórien strode aimlessly through the mallorn trees of her kingdom. Ever since the lingerie incident from the day before, she had been unable to even think of her wayward husband without shuddering. The only thing that cleared her mind now was to wander through the beauty that was Lothlórien.
As she passed a secluded glade in the forest, something caught the corner of Galadriel's eye. Stopping, she tentatively turned to the right and hoped that what she thought she saw was merely a trick of the light.
She had no such luck.
Celeborn was stretched out in the center of the glade wearing nothing but his green and gold boxer shorts once again. His head was propped up on a rock and his hands held a metal sheet up to rest against his shoulders. The elven lord had his eyes closed peacefully as he basked in the rays of sunlight that shone down on him. Sadly, the bright light that reflected off his gangly body only served to brighten the whiteness of his skin.
Galadriel was torn between laughing and vomiting.
Celeborn's eyes snapped open when he sensed someone was watching him. His face broke out into a suggestive grin when he saw that it was his wife who had entered the glade. With a speed that could not be seen by the eyes of Men, the elven lord reached into a pouch near his head and pulled out a tube of oil. He squeezed the contents, a thick grey substance, into his hands and began to rub it all over his body. He did not see Galadriel raise a hand to her nose to block the overwhelming smell of skunk fumes that came from the oil.
"What do you think?" Celeborn purred as he stretched out once again in an attempt to look appealing.
"Sweet Elbereth, what is that substance?" Galadriel squeaked as she pinched her nose.
"This, my dear maiden, is a love potion that I read about in my youth. Any lady who smells it will instantly fall in love with the first person they see," He ran a finger down his chest. "Well, my love?"
"Celeborn," Galadriel choked through the fumes. "What did you put into this potion?"
"Let me think…honeysuckle, a few mallorn leaves, a pinch of powdered warg's tooth, two cups of boiled snake skin, and a single hair from the head of an oiliphant."
It was all that Galadriel could do to keep herself from strangling her husband. "Celeborn, that was not a love potion you concocted. That was my mother's recipe for orc repellant."
"I suppose that would explain why it is making my eyes water."
"Yes, it would."
"I just can not win!" Celeborn hollered to the heavens. "I have tried to the best of my ability to follow Haldir's advice to seduce you, and yet I have failed. I am not fit to call myself the Lord of Lórien if I can not even hold the love of my wife."
Galadriel openly gaped at her husband. "You asked Haldir for advice?"
"Well…yes. Is there anything wrong with that?"
"You asked Haldir?" She repeated and Celeborn nodded. "You asked Haldir, who has relationships that last for one night and end in a five minute argument loud enough to be heard throughout Lórien the next morning? You went to the elf who has caused more broken hearts than any other in the history of Middle Earth?"
"…Yes?"
Galadriel threw up her hands in disgust and turned to leave. Before she did, though, the Lady of Lórien sent her husband a scalding glare over her shoulder.
"I do not know what revolts me more; your pathetic attempts to seduce me or the fact that you have been taking advice from that heart-breaking, overly masculine, dog!"
"At least he is getting some," Celeborn glared back. "Which must mean that he is doing something right!"
The urge to use Nenya to make Celeborn's head explode was steadily growing in Galadriel's mind as she shot back a response. "I honestly thought that you would have more sense than that, Celeborn. If you wished to receive council on the ways of romance, then you should have asked someone who actually knows the difference between love and lust!"
With that said, Galadriel silently walked away, leaving Celeborn alone with his thoughts. So, she wanted him to seek council from another who knew the true ways of romance. The elven lord shuffled through his memory bank for anyone who fit that description. Suddenly, an idea hit Celeborn and his mouth twisted into a sly smile.
* * *
"My books are in complete disarray. Many might say that they were always in disarray, but they were in an order that I preferred. Now they are scattered about because of him. I tried to tell him to leave, but he just stared at me with those wide, puppy-dog eyes and it made my heart melt. I have never been able to turn a tearful elf away before and now my weakness is driving me completely insane! If I am forced to listen to his snores again, I fear that I may be driven to homicide. I tried to ask Orophin for aid in this matter, but he scorned and abandoned me. How could my own younger brother do that to me after all I have done for him. But you will not abandon me, will you Rúmil?"
Rúmil blinked. Haldir had spent the past two hours retelling the events that transpired between himself, Celeborn, and Orophin. Rúmil watched his eldest brother with rapt attention and vigorously nodded in agreement.
"Absolutely, my brother. How dare Orophin turn you aside in your time of need. I swear to you Haldir that I will not abandon you and I shall do all that is in my power to aid you in this conflict. My bow is at your command."
"Oh no, Rúmil!" Haldir gasped. "Your bow is of no use in this matter, for we can not murder the Lord of Lórien."
A shadow passed over the elder elf's face as his eyes narrowed. He turned away from Rúmil and spoke again in a much lower voice, as though an evil force possessed him.
"And yet it would be the perfect solution. How easy would it be to simply strike in the middle of the night while he sleeps. He snores loud enough that he would never hear you coming."
The shadow passed away from Haldir's face and the elven guard spoke in his normal voice.
"But I can not do that. I can not bring myself to murder my lord, no matter how annoying he becomes."
The shadow returned and his voice lowered again.
"And yet your sanity stands upon the edge of a great abyss. One more incident with his stupidity and you shall surely fall."
Haldir returned to normal.
"The nature of the elves is to cherish life. I can not bring myself to murder another in such cold blood."
Meanwhile, Rúmil watched silently as his brother succumbed to what appeared to be schizophrenia.
The shadow returned again.
"Don't be such a pansy. Do it, Blondie!"
Haldir returned to normal yet again.
"No! I will not do it! You can not make me!"
Haldir continued yelling at himself as he ran full speed back into the forest. Rúmil watched him leave with a blank look upon his face. The youngest of Haldir's brothers shrugged his shoulders and began to walk back to his post.
"We may see murder yet."
* * *
As night fell over the forests of Lothlórien, a lone figure wrapped in a hooded grey cloak crept through the branches of the mallorn trees. The figure came upon a tiny glade that was chained off from the rest of the forest and made his way to the ground. The figure silently ducked under a sign labeled Celeborn's Glade. Keep Out and pulled back the hood of his cloak.
Celeborn smirked as he surveyed his hideout. During the Second Age he had complained to Galadriel that he needed his own area of Lórien to contemplate the dark visions that his wife received. Of course, he had only said that because she never would have agreed to it in the first place. Instead of contemplating visions, Celeborn used his glade for storing his collection of books on elven anatomy, his secret stash of shampoo, and his most prized possession of all.
The elven lord walked over to a nondescript tree and pulled down on one particular branch. A tiny door on the tree trunk opened to reveal an object no larder than his head and wrapped in purple cloth. Celeborn gingerly picked up the bundle and set it on a wooden pedestal in the center of the glade. He glanced around the glade to make sure no one was watching before lifting the cloth and revealing…
…one of the lost palantírs.
Celeborn beamed, for he was very proud of himself. He had found the palantírs in a rummage sale held by some marauding men during the late Second Age. They had only charged him a few shillings for it, and so the purchase was a real steal for the elven lord. Celeborn had never used the seeing stone before, though. He had always meant too, but he could never decide on who he should contact first. Now, though, he knew.
Holding his hand above the stone orb, Celeborn closed his eyes and concentrated on contacting his quarry. Wisps of purple smoke began to swirl around within the palantír. In a matter of minutes, the palantír's was glowing a brilliant purple color. Celeborn opened his eyes and gazed intently into the purple orb. Suddenly, the light disappeared and was replaced with the image of…
"Celeborn! What do you want this time? I told you that I am not interested in selling Orthanc so you can set up your own charm and beauty school!
"Saruman!" Celeborn yelped. "I'm terribly sorry. I must have dialed the wrong number."
The Lord of Lórien quickly threw the purple cloth back over the palantírs, severing contact with the head of the Istari order.
"A plague upon these new-fangled gadgets!" Celeborn mumbled to himself as he uncovered the palantír and tried once more to contact the right person.
The purple glow returned and was again replaced by the image of a new person. An elf with dark brown hair and stormy grey eyes appeared within the palantír. He was dressed in rumpled robes and, from the look of his bed hair, must have just woken up.
Celeborn beamed. "Elrond, my dear son-in-law, how are you? Wonderful evening is it not?"
Elrond glared at his father-in-law. "Celeborn, I am unlisted. How did you get this number?"
"Oh that? Before she departed over the seas, Celebrian told me that you had a palantír hidden away in your wardrobe. I believe she said it was under your 'sweet loving' underwear."
In Rivendell, Elrond made a mental note to yell at his departed wife after their reunion in Valinor.
"Anyway, my dear Elrond," Celeborn continued. "I fear that I must ask for your council on matters that are out of my control."
Elrond sat up, genuinely interested.
"I am afraid that Galadriel and I are not on the best of terms right now. She has been very distant and cold to me as of lately and all my attempts to warm her heart have been in vain. I realized that I needed to speak with an elf that has had a successful, loving marriage and has actually consummated that love more than once every eight thousand years. That elf, my dear son-in-law, is you. Might you be able to offer a bit of council on how I may bring romance back into our marriage."
"Hmmm…has she thrown you out yet?"
"Twice. Haldir has been kind enough to see to my lodging needs for the past two nights."
"I see…that will make things more difficult…Very well, my lord. I shall give what council I can on these matters."
"Splendid!" Celeborn grinned as he pulled out a scrap of parchment and a quill to take notes.
Elrond tapped his forefinger to his chin in thought before beginning. "What you need to do, my lord is woo her shamelessly. Then the moment she becomes putty in your hands, you shag her senseless."
Celeborn's face fell. "I am afraid that will not work, son. I have tried everything I can think of to woo her and she still closes her heart and body to me." The Lord of Lórien paused for a moment when a thought struck him. He turned an accusing eye on the half-elf. "Is that what you did to my daughter?"
Elrond gulped before answering quickly. "Of course not, my lord! You know that I would never perform such a disrespectful act on your delicate little Celebrian."
Celeborn turned his gaze to the stars above. "I suppose you are right. I could never imagine you treating my innocent and perfect little daughter like a common prostitute."
Unbeknownst to Celeborn, as soon as his gaze went away from the palantír, Elrond quickly wiped the sweat from his brow in relief.
"Might I make another suggestion then, my lord?" The Lord of Rivendell piped up.
"Absolutely, my dear son-in-law-who-would-never-treat-my-daughter-in-the-way-he-just-described."
Elrond bit back a protest. *How would you know? As it turns out, she was a tiger in bed.* "My lord, I have noticed with my sons that sometimes the best way to catch the attention of a woman who loses their favor in an elf is to make her jealous. You should have her catch you with your arms around another fair elf. Surely then she will see how desired you are by other maidens and she will come running back into your arms."
"Are you sure about this?" Celeborn's eyes widened with delight.
"Absolutely! It is guaranteed to work," Elrond gave his father-in-law a dazzling smile, despite the early hour, and faded from the palantír.
Celeborn waited until the seeing stone became completely blank before a new, sly, smile appeared on his face.
*Hmmm…jealousy…*
A/N: I wonder what Celeborn is planning to do this time…keep the reviews and ideas coming everyone. I love feedback. Chapter 5 should be up very soon.