Disclaimer: Don't ask

Celebrian, Wife to Elrond, and the Heir of Sauron

Fireweilder

For nine months had the sons of Elrond rode through the Misty Mountains, searching futile for any sign of their mother. But in vain had the past months been. Vain in which they had been sent, and in vain the now feared they would return home. Long had the help of the Dundain been needed but few weeks have they granted to the search and even then it was early in the chase.

But now winter was upon their backs now, and the new threat of melting snow banks, cause the dim trail to be lost. The scent was old beyond reckoning and the twists and turns of the mountains gave no new greetings. Despair now took the Mountain pass and overcame both hearts alike.

"It is ended then?" asked Elrohir, standing from his crouched position on the ground. Age-old footprints were still embedded leading south, but ended only three steps further. The snow had destroyed the rest.

Elladan gazed madly at his brother. The kidnap of Celebrian had fallen most heavily upon Elladan, the more childish of the two. He possessed knowledge of her travels that Elrohir was forced to forget. They had been closer, Elladan and Celebrian.

But he was forced to realize the truth in Elrohir's words. It was too late now.

"We shall wait ten more days, and pray to Elbereth for something, if not anything." He replied, setting off toward the wood with Elrohir falling in line behind him.

*********

"What do you think father will say?" asked Elladan to his brother behind him. Ten days had past and the road toward home never looked so un-welcoming.

"What will he say? I do not know. I do not think he could have hoped for anything else after the past nine months." He replied, his voice being drowned out by the echoes of the mountain wind.

"Elrohir? I…I wish that…that we were not so young." Stammering Elladan, stopping dead on the trail, his head bent with the weight of his tears.

"I wish…we didn't have to go home…like this." With that, he could bear it no longer. From this quiver, he with drew his silver dagger and threw it mercilessly at the nearest thing that moved.

The finch never left the ground.

"I can not do this!" he was now screaming at Elrohir, tears swimming down his cheeks and chest.

"Peace! Peace brother! Do you not think I too have been tormented in every night, the wretchedness of this mountain tearing my soul? The Orc voices, I can hear them at night. They mock our emotions, brother." He said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Let us rest one more night here. Once more, then never to return."

*

"NEVER!" screamed a voice, both unearthly and fell.

In movements in which the ground rumbled and the sea shook, the trees in front of them fell, pulled up by their roots. Bows were taught, and daggers were retrieved.

But silenced followed.

But silence can not fool desperate ears. The sons sped on, their hearts beating wildly to the scream of the wood. Fey, they thought, and fey it was that a clearing upon their mists arrive.

Who was more took back, the sons or the Orcs, no one could have dared assume. But it was the Orcs that day that not be around to guess. Blood littered the ground and the screams and rants of the black tongue accursed the spot where they died. Bows sang and the dagger shown, and so mad were both he brothers that not one Orc was left, not those who retreated or begged.

But it was after the dust had settled and the blood had dried, that the brother's doom was indeed fulfilled. Embedded to the nearest tree, was a maiden. A white maiden, old and aged beyond such years. Crude spears and arrows protruding from every angle embodied in the trunk aside her. And one, one red arrow, protruding from her side.

Thus the sons were at last reunited with the lost mother.

They rushed to her side, the tears and laughs drowned the wind. Careful did they unwind her mangled body from her prison and lo! She opened her eyes, staring into the faces of those whom she has loved.

"Elladan?" she asked, tentative, as if questioning her knowledge.

Elladan grasped her hand. "Yes?"

"Where is your brother?"

Elrohir knelt down to her body, not accustom to letting his mother see him cry.

"Rest mother" was all he could think to say, the words slipping with little ease off his tongue.

With that, Celebrian obeyed, and drifted back into darkness

From behind them, a white sound was heard. A voice, soft and terrible, trumpeted out from the white light. The brothers stood, bow once more taught, fearing anything to endanger what they had now found.

"Be at peace, sons of Elrond and of Celebrian! Peace!" cried the voice. The sons dropped to their knees, weapons clanging on the soft mold. Thus did the brothers behold the herald of Manwe, Eonwe, know by voice and hardly by sight. Manwe then did appear and the brothers cast themselves on the ground.

"Rise." And so they did

"You were willing to wait forever, were you not?" he asked

None of them dared to answer

From the silence Manwe laughed, and all was glad again. The brothers dared to see and be embraced.

"For which," the lord continued "you shall be sent home. Her life is in your hands now."

With a final bow, the Lord was gone, ad the brothers now stood on the bridge of Bruinen, Celebrian gripped tightly in Elladan's arms