Imladris Revisited

By: DLR 2002

Disclaimer: most of these characters are owned by Tolkien

Elrond/OFC

Rated: PG13 for sexual situations

Chapter 20

T.A.2953

"How do you mean, change in plans?" asked Elrond, frowning.

Gandalf sighed.  "The Council will meet here, as it did once before."

"For what reason?  Why change from meeting at Isengard?"

"I know not."  Gandalf shrugged.  "Only that it is by request of Saruman."

Elrond raised an eyebrow and looked at Círdan.  "What think you of this development?"

Círdan smiled.  "I question not the ways of wizards.  Imladris is easier for me than Isengard, I have no protest."

"Nor do I," Elrond admitted, "except that it is strange.  Saruman is not likely to venture forth at no need, on a whim, as it were, not when he can sit comfortable with us attending him."  He turned back to Gandalf.  "The others have been notified?"

"They have," returned Gandalf.  "Radagast has taken care of it."

Elrond grunted.  "When can we expect everyone?"

"Within the week, I believe."

Elrond motioned them both into chairs and poured out drinks for his guests.  A small smile crossed his lips.  "I was looking forward to this excursion.  I seldom get out any more."

"Now the excursion comes to you," said Círdan, smiling back.

Elrond took a sip of his drink and suddenly the smile left his face.  He put his glass down on the table and uttered a long, colorful string of oaths in Quenya.

Gandalf had his glass halfway to his mouth and paused, his eyebrows raised.  "Such language, Master Elf," he admonished.  "What is troubling you?"

"The council will meet here," said Elrond.

"Yes, this is what we have been talking about."

"Here," repeated Elrond.  "Here in Imladris."

Gandalf and Círdan exchanged a quick glance.  "Is there a problem?"

"Galadriel and Celeborn will be coming here," Elrond elaborated.

"They are Council members," said Gandalf.  Elrond closed his eyes and sighed.

Círdan became concerned."What is it that troubles you?"    

"Nothing earth-shaking, forgive my outburst," said Elrond.  "It will just be awkward, extremely awkward to explain about Culurien to them."

"Ah," said Gandalf, comprehending.

"Who?" asked Círdan, who did not.

Elrond rubbed his eyes.  "My betrothed."

Círdan looked puzzled.  "I thought you were married already?"

"Therein lays the difficulty," said Elrond.  "How to explain my engagement to my wife's parents."

Círdan looked thoroughly bewildered.  "What am I missing here?"

Elrond put his hand on Círdan's shoulder.  "Worry not.  Tis not your problem."

"Thank-you," said Círdan.  "I find that to be very helpful."

Gandalf attempted to console him.  "The problem would have had to have been faced, eventually."

"Eventually, I may have found a solution around the problem," said Elrond.  "Right now, I have not."

They sat in silence for a moment.  Círdan poured himself another drink, wondering if it would be better or worse to ask any more questions.

"Perhaps they will be sympathetic," said Gandalf.  "When did you last see them?"

Elrond sighed.  "A century ago, at the last Council.  They knew naught of our marital problems, so far as I could ascertain.  Celeborn especially seemed to think that Celebrían and I were counting the days until we would be together again."

Gandalf stroked his beard.  "That is not a good sign."

"Mithrandir," said Elrond, his voice heavy with sarcasm, "your grasp of the obvious never ceases to amaze me."

Gandalf chuckled.  "Thank Eru it is not my problem."  He helped himself to more wine.

"I am still not certain what the problem is," muttered Círdan under his breath.

Elrond sat up in his chair and stared at him. 

"What?"

"You could do it." 

"I will do anything in my power for you," Círdan said, "if only I understood what you are talking about."

"You could annul my marriage, could you not?" 

Círdan looked at him.  "I hardly think so."

"You are the oldest, the wisest of all the Noldor in Middle-earth," Elrond continued.  "You are a ring bearer, you have great power."

"Ah, ahem," Círdan glanced at Gandalf.  "I have passed the Ring of Fire to someplace where it would be more useful."

Elrond looked from one of them to the other.  "Fine.  What of you, Mithrandir, could you-?"

"Stop right there," said Gandalf, holding up his hand.  "The Valar have given me no power over laws and customs."

"Fine."  Elrond turned back to Círdan, who shook his head.

"I may be old," said he, "but I am no prince or king, I have not the authority."

He regarded Elrond for a moment.  "This is the problem, then.  Your wife left you, when? 

"Four hundred years ago," said Elrond. 

Círdan looked at Gandalf.  "That seems long enough to assume she is not coming back."

Elrond looked up.  "Then you think I could get married again?"

"Nay, of course not," said Círdan.  "You need to have an annulment.  I was merely agreeing that you had grounds."

Elrond sighed.  "Have some more wine," said Gandalf.  "Just think, next week you will have Saruman here to exasperate you."

"Your words carry great comfort to me, old friend, thank-you," said Elrond, his head in his hands.

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Culurien jumped up.  "Say it again."

Elrond smiled.  "I am not going."

Her arms went around his neck and she nearly choked him with her enthusiasm.

"Stay," he said, laughing, trying to loosen her grasp.  She covered his face with kisses.

"You may, perhaps want to hear why I am not going."

"I care not about your reasons, I care only that you will not be gone for two months," she said hotly into his ear.

"Ah, umm." Elrond wondered if the bad news could wait.  For a little while, he thought, kissing her deeply.  Within minutes, all thoughts of bad news were driven completely out of his mind.

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"It would be better if you explained first and then they saw me."

"But how to even bring it up?" Elrond frowned.  "Oh, by the way, your daughter and I were living a sham of a marriage; maybe you were even aware she had a lover."

"Well, even you do not know that for certain," said Culurien.

"You are correct," Elrond replied, "I do not."

It was several days later, and they were walking through the gardens as they talked.

Culurien picked a bright flower.  "How long will they be here?" 

"At least a month.  Perhaps longer if they wish to spend time with Arwen."

"It would be difficult for me to try to hide," she suggested reluctantly.

"I would not ask you to even consider it," he said, putting his arm around her waist.  "This is your home and as Lady of Imladris, you do not hide from guests."

"That is actually, an amusing thought," she said, her cheeks dimpling.

"Yes, indeed," he agreed, "especially when one thinks of Saruman."

"Is he as bad as all that?" 

Elrond grimaced.  "Worse."

"Well, in spite of the potential problems with Celeborn and Galadriel, I still think it is better everyone is coming here.  You will possibly find it much easier to deal with Saruman here than at Isengard."  She paused.  "Besides, you would not have lasted a day without me."

Elrond raised his eyebrows.  "I had lasted six millennia without you."

"You did not know what you were missing then," she stated firmly.

He smiled. "This is true, but I think I would have survived for two months."

"No."  She shook her head emphatically.  "You would have been reduced to a babbling, incoherent puddle of jelly."

He stopped walking and looked at her in amazement.

"In the two years I have known you," Culurien said smiling, "I think I have come to read you quite well."

"Really?"  His eyes danced with amusement.

"Yes," she returned, with an air of superiority.  "In fact, I wager that you will not even make it back to the house, without losing all control of yourself."

He turned to her and roughly grasped her hair at the nape of her neck.  He pulled her head close to his and looked into her eyes.  "You had best watch yourself, Lady, if you start laying wagers with me." 

She smiled and ran her tongue across his lower lip, teasing it.  He closed his mouth over hers and his teeth caught her tongue, biting it gently.  The moan that escaped from her lips sent shivers through every inch of his body.

She looked up at him, breathing heavily, from her position beneath him on the soft grass.  He had her arms pinned over her head with one hand, while with the other; he revealed her breasts to the warm afternoon sun.

"You lose," she whispered hotly.

"Do I?" he murmured, biting her exposed areas playfully.  He let go of her arms and she held him tightly, sighing with pleasure.

A flash of color caught Elrond's eye and he looked up a little.  His eyes focused on something that looked like blue satin.  He blinked and raised his eyes slowly.  He found himself staring into the cold, steel-grey eyes of his father-in-law.

"Well, there is one problem solved," Elrond said quietly.

"Which one?"

"How to bring the matter up with them."

Culurien followed his gaze until she saw what he was looking at.  She pushed him off of her unceremoniously and rolled away from them, fastening her gown.

Celeborn was standing on the path, eyeing them through the bushes.  "It is all right, my love," he called to someone.  "I have found the Lord of Imladris."

"I can explain this," said Elrond, getting quickly to his feet.

"It is not necessary," said Celeborn.  "You have been without a wife for four hundred years.  It is not surprising that you satisfy your needs with whomever you can."

Elrond's face darkened, while Culurien, still sitting on the grass went scarlet.

"You are not grasping this situation clearly," said Elrond cautiously.

"What is there to grasp?  One cannot expect you to remain faithful through four hundred years of separation.  You must take your pleasure where you can, until you are reunited."

Elrond blinked, and then started again.  "There will be no reunion between Celebrían and me.  In fact, as soon as I can find someone to do it, there will be an annulment."

Galadriel came up to them.  "What do you mean, annulment?"

Elrond took a deep breath.  "Your daughter, Celebrían, left me, left her children, left our marriage four centuries ago.  I wish to have an annulment declared."

Galadriel stared at him.  "Celebrían left to repair her health."

Elrond snorted.  "Celebrían left me to live in Lothlórien before her health was ever in question."

Celeborn scowled.  "What are you talking about?"

"I believe she preferred to be with her lover," Elrond said bluntly.

Celeborn stood still, in shock, while Galadriel looked away.

"How dare you?" he said through clenched teeth.  "How dare you demean my daughter in this way?" 

Galadriel put her hand on Celeborn's arm.  He looked at her.  She shook her head.  "Stop."

"What are you saying?"

"I know not," she replied.  "I simply think we should not pursue this any further."  She looked into his eyes.  "Tis a feeling I have."

She turned to Elrond.  "You do as you think necessary."  She gazed long at him, her eyes penetrating.  She turned to look at Culurien, who was still seated on the grass, her arms around her knees, her head bowed.  "You may introduce us to your friend."

Elrond cleared his throat.  "Actually, I believe you have met."  He took Culurien's hand and pulled her up.  "This is Culurien, daughter of Helfelas, formerly of Eryn Galen, formerly married to Gwindor of Lothlórien.  We are betrothed."

"Ah, yes," Galadriel said.  "Arwen's friend."  Celeborn still looked somewhat hostile.

"Did you just arrive?"  Elrond asked, leading them back to the house.  "Perhaps you would care to be shown to your rooms so you can freshen up?"

Galadriel nodded graciously.  "Thank-you."

Elrond and Culurien exchanged small smiles of relief as they walked.

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