Imladris Revisited
By: DLR 2002
Disclaimer: Characters owned by JRR Tolkien
Elrond/OFC
Rated: PG

Chapter 13



"This is not fitting, Lord," Lindir argued. "My place is by your side."

"I wish you to remain here," said Elrond, pulling on his boots.

Lindir was persistent. "I always come with you."

Elrond stood and put his hand on his servant's shoulder.  "Do not distress yourself on my account, Lindir, I simply need some solitude and I am unable to find it in this place."

He glanced out onto the terrace. It was starting to become light.

"Also, it is necessary for you to stay here to dispel any worries my daughter and others may have about my absence. I will be back in about three days."

Lindir had an obstinate look on his face.

"There is to be no more argument," Elrond said quietly. He picked up his bundle of spare clothing and necessities and left the room.

There was nobody awake at the stables. He saddled his own horse and mounted. He chose a road which led to the outskirts of the valley, rather than into it, around the orchards.

It was in his mind to visit the outposts of Imladris, speak with the guards, and inspect all the gates, natural and constructed; checking over the complete boundaries.

It was not an unusual journey, in fact it was one he made at least once a year, but Lindir was right, he never went alone. Lindir always accompanied him and also either Glorfindel or Erestor, and his respective servant. It was a trip Elrond usually enjoyed and this excursion was no different. He saw few elves, for mostly natural boundaries kept the valley inaccessible from the outside and did not require guards.

He spent some time on the wrong side of these obstacles, attempting to scale walls and cliffs, testing their effectiveness.

He was still on the Outside when he found himself very close to the upper gate. There was a gentle rain falling and Elrond had his cloak on, with his hood up. He was walking his horse for the path was muddy and slippery. Suddenly there were a dozen arrow tips three feet away from his face. He had been looking down at the path and was slightly startled.

"Pusta, inyë nildo,"* he said, holding up his hands. He pulled the hood off of his head.

Elemmakil was relieved, but clearly confused.  "Master Elrond!  We had no word of your arrival or departure, whichever it may be." He knew he had not seen Elrond leave through the gate.

"It is neither," said Elrond. "I am merely making one of my annual walks about."

"You are alone?" Elemmakil was incredulous.

"Yes indeed," said Elrond, "for a change of pace. How goes it with you, old friend?" he asked, slapping him on the back, for Elemmakil was indeed an old friend, having been captain of the outer gate of the hidden city of Gondolin. He had known Eärendil, Elrond's father. 

"All goes well, Master," he said. "Come in and have refreshment."

With that, they went through the gate, which from the outside did not even resemble one. They entered a small enclosure on the other side, where they shared a loaf of bread and sweet tea which Elemmakil poured from a pot over a fire.

They talked for a while about the growing darkness outside the valley, trying to separate rumour from fact, but there was precious little information to rely on. Elladan had only sent back a scout once since his departure some months ago.

Elrond changed the subject and asked Elemmakil to tell him all he could remember of his father, Eärendil.

Elemmakil was surprised, for Elrond had never asked much about him before, seeming to harbour a certain bitterness. However, elves have good memories and he was able to recall a great deal even though his mind had to stretch back over six millennia.

Elrond listened to him in silence, his arms around his knees. He had always had a hard time thinking of his father as a real person, rather than myth or legend. He wished he had known him, as Elemmakil had.

Elemmakil finished his reminiscences and regarded Elrond for a moment. "You look a great deal like him."

"Do I?" asked Elrond. "It is difficult to see any resemblance when all one has to look at is a statue."

"You do," he responded. "And he in turn, greatly resembled his grandfather, the king. In temperament, though, you are like night and day."

Elrond raised his eyebrows.  "How so?"

"Eärendil had a wander-lust that nothing could cure," said Elemmakil. "He was restless and unsatisfied always. He caused your mother great grief with his many journeys. Courage, he had certainly, in abundance. Responsibility to his family, however, was not his top priority."

Elemmakil paused and looked at Elrond. "Eärendil was a great person, one of the greatest in all of our history.  But a great father, he was not. You surpass him in that area, Master. In many respects, that is just as important as slaying dragons."

Elrond made no comment and placed his hand on Elemmakil's shoulder for a long moment.

The night was growing old and Elrond rolled himself up in a blanket and went to lie down outside the enclosure. It had stopped raining and the night sky was clear.

He gazed at the stars a long while before he fell asleep.

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The next morning, Elrond took his leave of the guards and headed back to his house down the conventional path. He had almost reached the lower gate when he heard something jingling ahead of him around the bend. He halted his horse and waited, his arms folded in front of him.

A white horse came into view and Glorfindel was riding. Elrond made no greeting, but simply asked, "Where are you off to?"

"No place in particular," smiled Glorfindel.

"No?" inquired Elrond, raising his eyebrows. "Not looking for me, by any chance?"

"Not at all," said Glorfindel, lying.

"That is well," said Elrond, not believing him for a moment. "I do not have any need for a nursemaid."

Glorfindel smirked.  "Hopefully, I do not look like one."

He had turned his horse and was now headed in the same direction as Elrond.

"Returning from 'no place' so soon?" asked Elrond.

"You know how I detest long journeys," responded Glorfindel.

They rode through the gate and down toward the stables in silence. Finally, Elrond spoke.  "I told Culurien."

"Did you, indeed?" Glorfindel was surprised. "You took my advice, how gratifying. I do not think anyone has ever done that before."

Elrond gave him a sidelong look, but said nothing.

"So," said Glorfindel, "how did she respond?"

"She did not run away in disgust," said Elrond.

"Well neither would have Celebrían had you been honest with her in the beginning."

"You do not know that," snapped Elrond. "Culurien was sympathetic because she felt herself in the same position. Celebrían would have had no such perspective."

"Culurien was sympathetic because she loves you," said Glorfindel gently. "Celebrían, most likely, in the end, did not."

Elrond regarded him for a moment.

"You are quite probably right," he said quietly. He had long suspected that towards the end of their marriage, Celebrían had a lover in Lothlórien, so often did she journey back and forth to there from Imladris. He had found it hard to believe that she simply missed her parents as she stated. Unfortunately, he had no proof of this, he thought regretfully, for it would provide ample cause to annul the marriage and he would not even need permission from Manwë, with that serious a transgression.

And he had tried to find proof, so angry had he been all those years ago, but none was forthcoming, so it had remained merely suspicion. To think, this had begun well before she found out about his past. What right had she to be so angry with him? Then she had left Imladris for the last time, never planning to return, when she was wounded and taken by the orcs.

Unfortunately, Elladan and Elrohir were unaware of her plans when they rescued her and brought her back to Imladris. Elrond never enlightened them, for only in Imladris could the arrow poison be healed, and he did not want her to die, for in his heart he loved her still, in spite of everything.

Oh, how upset she had been when she woke and found herself in Imladris once more. Fortunately, no one except Elrond heard this, for he was tending her wounds alone.

When she was well enough to travel, some four months later, she left for Lothlórien and he never saw her again. He did not know what prompted her to leave Middle-earth.

It may have been memory of the orc den, as Galadriel had said, but Elladan had commented that his mother did not seem distressed to him.

Glorfindel interrupted his reverie.  "So, you not only have Culurien's sympathy, you have her affection as well.  This is a good start."

"Maybe," said Elrond, "although I am no longer sure of anything."

They had left the stable and were walking towards the house.

"What you need to do," said Glorfindel, "is to find a way to make her realize how much she loves and desires you. Desire is a useful tool."

"Actually, I think I have made some headway in that direction already," Elrond said with a small smile.

"How so?" asked Glorfindel, with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, after I told her everything, I got undressed and went to bed," said Elrond.

Glorfindel waited.  "Yes?"

"In front of her," said Elrond.

"Got undre... Naked?" asked Glorfindel, surprised

"Indeed, yes," said Elrond.

Glorfindel's mouth fell open and he had a hard time getting it to work again.  "Well, what was her reaction?"

"She seemed quite transfixed," answered Elrond.

"Ah," said Glorfindel. He paused. "In a good way, I hope?"

"So I believe," said Elrond.

Glorfindel slapped him on the back. "Well done, my friend, well done. I did not know I was able to give such good advice."

"I thought you had told me your advice was not worthless," smiled Elrond.

"Well, not worthless, certainly, but not worth much, either," he smiled back.


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* Stop, I am a friend. Q