Imladris Revisited
By: DLR
Disclaimer: Characters owned by the estate of JRR Tolkien
Elrond/OFC
Rated: PG
Chapter 7
Breakfast in the dining hall the next morning was a cheerful affair, with the twins entertaining the company with many humorous tales that they had accumulated during their adventurous lives.
It was mid-afternoon before they took their leave, the party increased by the addition of several young elves, eager for experience of the world outside Imladris.
Elrond gave his blessing to all and stood gazing after them a long while as their horses climbed the narrow path out of the valley.
The world outside grows dark, he thought. Then he stood in shock as the land of Mordor unveiled itself before him, for he did not usually have any sight behind the shadow. In his mind's eye he saw the flame burst forth from the mountain of Orodruin.*
Not that it has happened yet, he thought with a shudder. But it will. He could feel the Great Eye pass over him, searching for that which he had kept hidden.
How long he would have stood there is hard to say, if Culurien, who had not witnessed the departure of the twins, hadn't stepped up to him and poked him in the shoulder, bringing him back to the present.
She looked mischievous. "Tonic," she reminded him.
He stared at her blankly, unable to shake off the effects of his vision.
"What is it?" she asked, searching his face. "You look as though you have seen a ghost."
He shuddered again, coming back to reality with a great effort. "Not a ghost," he said quietly, "but definitely a demon."
She stood silently next to him, sometimes staring where he did, sometimes looking up at his profile. Her mother used to have visions, although it was not a gift she had passed along to her daughter. Culurien knew better than to try to hasten the journey back to every day triviality, so she waited quietly.
He broke through it, suddenly, and started a little. "What was it you said to me?"
"Tonic," she repeated, a smile dimpling her cheeks.
"Yes of course," he murmured, turning back into the house.
He made the potion once again and she committed the ingredients to memory.
"Would you like pen and paper to record this?"
She shook her head, embarrassed. "I really do not write very well."
"Well, that is a skill I can help you with," he said seriously. "For if you are to work in this room, you will need to keep records.
She drank the tonic without responding. There was a definite restorative power to it, she felt the effects immediately.
"Would you like some?" She offered him the tankard. "For you look a little grey this morning."
"Thank you, I will have just a little." He smiled at her and she thought she could hear her heart beating.
"Have you any plans today?" he asked.
Culurien shook her head. "Nothing definite."
"Well, it is not my fate to have any time for pleasure this day," he said, "for I have let many duties slide in the excitement of the past week. However, make yourself free of the house and grounds. You may come and go whither you like, there are no restricted areas." He smiled. "Except perhaps the male public bath, although I suspect they would welcome you."
She was interested. "I assume there is a female public bath?"
"Of course," he replied. "Any servant can direct you."
"Then that is my first priority."
He rose. "Very well then. I will leave you to it."
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The baths of Imladris were well used since most of the chambers in the main house did not boast a private one and elves have a love of personal cleanliness akin to cats.
One side of the room was open to the natural flow of a small waterfall with a stone ledge one could step out on. Most of the room, however, was taken up by a great pool, fed by warm mineral springs which flowed out of the mountain.
Culurien opted for the pool, being disinclined to experience the icy water from the mountain top, for it was not yet spring.
She let the sensuous feel of the warm water lull her into a trance and she felt more relaxed than she had in some time.
The sounds of splashing awoke her. There was much frivolity taking place, for elven children loved to play in the water. And the adults as well, she thought, trying not to look too closely. A pretty blonde elf swam close by her and smiled. Culurien smiled back, not wishing to appear rude, but hastily turned her attention elsewhere. She reached for her towel. Perhaps the waterfall after all, next time, she thought.
After she had refreshed herself at the bath, Culurien took Elrond's advice and walked about Imladris, which was not a house so much as a small city. She became lost and then found again many times, for the ways were confusing.
She spent many days entertaining herself in this fashion, alone mostly, for Elrond was kept busy in the management of his house and she saw him little. Arwen was not feeling very sociable and preferred to be solitary.
Culurien did not feel abandoned though, for the place was fascinating and a blissful essence pervaded the atmosphere. She spent many hours in the Hall of Fire, listening to the musicians rehearse and making friends of them. When she shyly began to join in with them, singing, they were impressed. Lindir, who played the mandolin and also did duties as Elrond's personal servant, encouraged her the most.
"Next feast day, you must make your debut and sing with us," he pleaded.
Culurien was non-committal and evasive. "We shall see."
And so her life went on in this manner for a long while, relaxing and restorative, her strength and appetite returning until she felt quite herself again.
Elrond watched her recover with much relief for he was ever doubtful of his skill at healing sadness and despair, which had not been very effective in the past.
Perhaps my power has increased with age, he wondered thoughtfully, or possibly Imladris was just the right place at the right time for Culurien, which it had most decidedly not been for CelebrÃan. The memory of his wife darkened his face with sorrow and anger both.
Arwen was sitting next to him and they were at dinner, a much smaller gathering in a much smaller, more informal room than the Great Dining Hall.
"What ails you, my Father?" she asked, "at whom are you scowling?"
"Scowling, I?" said Elrond in surprise. "I never scowl."
"No, of course not," she said, "and the sun does not rise and set every day, either. And now I have caused you to frown even more."
His face relaxed a little. "I am sorry. I was just lost in the past for a while. Forgive me."
Arwen rose, kissed him on the cheek and left the room, leaving him to his dark thoughts.
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*Mt. Doom