Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING! STOP ASKING!

Notes: All right, that's it! I though you people would have enough imagination to come up with your own ways to answer how Celebrian survived from losing a large amount of blood. But since you all seem too daft, I will explain. Celebrian had many small cuts around her head, but they had stopped bleeding freely since the blood crusted around her face already. The cuts on her back were bleeding but not as freely as they were before. As for the blood from her ankles, they were pretty grievous, but since Sauron didn't want his carrier to die before she gave birth, he healed them. The greatest amount of blood she lost was from her ankles when she was lying on the floor waiting for death. Keep in mind she was not lying there for too long.

Celebrian, Wife to Elrond, and the Heir of Sauron

Fireweilder

Elrond rushed from his chamber, his heart beating so madly upon his chest. Celebrian? Home? How could such a wonderful thing come so unlooked for?

The voices of Rivendell were silent, as they had never been in all his years. The silence pounded him, beating him mercilessly into the ground. Should not the voices be swelled in great joy if indeed their mistress has returned? Why were they silent? Why…

Elrind finally escaped the prison of his house, entering the alcove before the bridge. Upon it, there stood his sons. His sons? They were so different now. Indeed, the year had past fast on the lords, for boys they were no longer. No longer would he even dream of calling them his sons, though by blood they were. They were their own masters now.

The taller of the lords clutched in his hands a red figure. His once green robes now were black from the blood devoured by them. The other was crouched on the ground, leaning on his bow to keep from falling from weariness. Both looked up when they heard their names echoing through out the valley.

As though walking through a mist, Elrond grasped uncertainly to the bridge, nearly crawling toward his sons. Approaching then, Elrond slowly touched the brow of his wife. The coldness of her brow snapped his mind back into the present, the darkness giving way to the light.

"Elrohir?" he asked the once son who stood before him. Never before had the sight of his son frightened him. His blood stained face and the deep fire in his eyes almost caused him to back down

"Elrohir, please."

There they stood, both great lords in each their own power. To anyone who watched, it seemed as if time had stopped. The enormous stones of old, piercing each other's mind. The elves of Rivendell hide then selves from the possibility of a great clash of wrath, for they two knew of the great power each heir contained.

But it was in this moment, that Elladan stood and Celebrian stirred, and once more the noise of the river below them became audible once again. Elladan took his mother from Elrohir and place her gently into Elrond's.

"Do what is needed. We fear an arrow is poisoning her body and soul. Here is the arrow we found in her side."

Thrusting the arrow into Elrond's hands, Elladan turned and flew back into the house.

Much growing has one done, but the other seems to have gone backwards, though Elrond, looking at the arrow in his hand. Then he too turned, running as he could back to care for his wife.

He left Elrohir, standing as he had in his blood and anger, tore between his two greatest loves. Placing his bow, quiver and dagger on the bridge, he sat were he had landed.

Waiting,

As the voices of Rivendell once more stirred from their sleep.