A/N: Muwaahahahahaha! *sing-song* 'I know what she said, and you don't!' eg

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Imladris Revisited

By: DLR 2002

Disclaimer: Characters owned by JRR Tolkien

Elrond/OFC

Rated: PG13 for adult themes

                               Chapter 18

Elrond and Arwen walked arm in arm up the stairs towards Culurien's room.

"This is why you have been so different lately, happier," she commented as they walked.

"Yes, indeed," he admitted.  "Although it has not always been a smooth road."

Arwen smiled.  "Nonsense, it was love at first sight."

Elrond raised his eyebrows.  "What would you know of this?  You, who have had your head in the sand all of this time."

"I have just recalled something Culurien told me," said Arwen.  "At your first meeting, when she was presented, she mentioned that when you touched her face, her heart pounded wildly and the room grew hazy."

"So?"

"That sounds like love."

"Or fear," responded Elrond.  "But you are quite correct; there was something there, right from the start."

They had reached Culurien's door.  Elrond knocked.  "Linariel."  There was no response.  "You try," he said to Arwen.  Again, no response.  Elrond tried the handle.  Locked.

As he touched the brass knob, he froze, his face turning grey.  "Something is very, very wrong."

"Do you not have a key?" 

"Nay, not to guest chambers," he replied.  "There is but one key to these rooms and it is left on the inside, for the use of the guest."

He stepped back and hit the door with his shoulder.  Nothing.  "Drat these heavy doors," he muttered.  He leaned back and gave it a powerful kick with his foot.  I should have been wearing boots, he thought, as the pain shot up his ankle.  Still the door held.  He paused for a moment.

"Come with me," he said, running down the stairs again.  Elrond stopped at a storage closet and pulled out a length of rope.

"What on Arda are you doing?" Arwen asked, panting.  Elrond made no response.  He ran out a side door with Arwen following behind.

They picked their way through the shrubbery along the side of the house until they were standing under Culurien's balcony.  Elrond stared up at it, thinking.  He put the rope down and began to undress.

"Adar, what are you doing?" Arwen whispered, frantic.

He had shed his robes and his tunic and stood in shirt sleeves and leggings.  He made a slip knot at the end of the rope, and then he jumped lightly up on the terrace wall before him, still staring upwards.

He balanced there a moment, his toes grasping the edge, the rope held lightly in his hand.  Suddenly he gave it a twirl and the loop flew upwards, neatly landing over a baluster.

"Dispose of those things somewhere," he whispered to Arwen, indicating his clothing.  "Meet me back upstairs."  After testing the rope with his weight, he quickly shinnied up and climbed over the side of the balcony.  He gave Arwen a wave and disappeared.

Arwen smiled as she sped off.  He certainly was something, her father.

Elrond moved slowly into the room, calling her name softly.  He looked around the corner and sighed with relief.  She was on the bed, asleep.  He watched her for a moment then he frowned and approached her quickly.  Her face was deathly pale, her breathing irregular, sporadic.  He lifted her eyelids, and then shook her.

"Culurien!" he said loudly.  There was a knock on the door.  Elrond crossed the room quickly and turned the key.  Arwen came rushing in.

"What is it?" she asked breathlessly, looking at his face.

"She has taken a sleeping draught of some kind," said he, picking up a goblet.  He put his finger in and tasted it.  "Only much too powerful."

Culurien had shelves full of the many herbs she was studying.  Elrond quickly took stock of the collection and selected one.  "This will do," he muttered.  He ground it and mixed it with water.

"Help me," he said to Arwen.  "Support her head."  He opened Culurien's mouth and managed to get some of the liquid inside. Then he held it closed and tilted her head back, forcing her to swallow.  The effect was almost immediate, in spite of her unconsciousness.

Elrond quickly reached for a basin. He leaned her forward and held her head while she vomited.  She groaned and vomited again.

"What is happening?" asked Arwen, turning green herself.

"I am causing Culurien to empty the contents of her stomach," Elrond said matter-of-factly.

"You are causing it?" asked Arwen.  "Why?"

"If the poison is not in her stomach any more, it cannot pass into her blood.  Here."  He handed her the basin.  "Empty this."

Arwen nearly added to the contents of the bowl as she took it out to the balcony.  I hope no one was walking on the path, she thought.  When she returned, Elrond was trying to get Culurien to walk, his arm around her waist.  Her eyes were half opened, but unseeing.

"I think you should dress and go down to dinner," he said.  "I can handle this now."

"People will ask for you."

"That is why you should go, to answer them."

"What shall I say?"

"Anything that comes to mind."

"Very well," she said as she left the room.

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Arwen opened the door slightly and peered around the edge.  The only light in the room came from the fireplace which burned low.  She entered quietly and waited for her eyes to adjust to the dimness. 

Elrond was sitting on the bed, his legs straight out in front of him, his back leaning against the headboard.   Culurien sat in his lap, her head on his shoulder, her legs curled up.

He was singing softly to her, rocking slowly back and forth as he stroked her hair.

Arwen stood transfixed, watching them for several minutes.  Tears started to roll silently down her cheeks.  Elrond paused and opened his eyes.

"Come in, Undómiel," he whispered.

She crossed the floor and sat on the bed next to him.  He touched her cheek, wiping away a tear.

"Do not fret, so," he said.  "Everything will be all right."

"Should she be sleeping?"  Arwen asked.  "I thought you wanted her to wake."

"She is just dozing," said Elrond. "This sleep is beneficial."

They sat in silence for a while.  Finally Arwen asked the question that was in both of their minds.  "Do you think she tried to kill herself again?  Or was it an accident?"

"I know not." He sighed.  "I have not spoken to her yet."

"It is entirely my fault," said Arwen softly, the tears continuing.  Elrond looked at her and said nothing.  "I have recalled my words when I came into your study," she said.  "Culurien may have taken them to heart."

Elrond continued to regard her gravely.  "How could she not?  You very loudly damned us."  Arwen put her head in her hands.  "Words can be more powerful than the deadliest of weapons," Elrond continued softly.  "The words she heard from you before she fled the room could have easily applied to her, not to me as you meant them."

"I was not angry at her, I was angry at you.  I wanted to protect her," Arwen whispered.

"I do not think she took it that way," Elrond sighed.

"Adar," Arwen said, looking at him with great anguish on her face.  "I have very nearly destroyed your happiness, please forgive me."

"I do.  Learn a lesson from this, Undómiel and some good may come of it," he said, closing his eyes.

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