Imladris Revisited
By: DLR 2002
Disclaimer: Did you know that Christopher Tolkien took out another copyright on the characters in 1977? Now we wait 100 years from then. Grrr.
Elrond/what's-her-name
Rated: PG

Chapter 28

Elrond put his head in his hands, his elbows on his knees. The noise level increased, as everyone tried to out-shout each other.  My efforts were not good enough, he thought, looking at Gandalf, who rolled his eyes.

Soon this whole Council would degenerate into a full-fledged elf/dwarf war. He had better do something, quickly.  Even Glorfindel, who rarely lost his composure, was red-faced, yelling at one of the dwarves.

For future Council meetings, Elrond made a mental note; all weapons would be left outside the door. He had been somewhat unnerved when the dwarf Gimli had so forcefully swung his axe at the Ring on the table.  He might pick an elf neck to swing at next, the way things were going.

Elrond became aware that Frodo was trying to say something, his small voice lost in the horrific din.  He held up his hands, signalling quiet and those who noticed him ceased their bickering.

"I will take it," Frodo was saying, his voice becoming louder as the room grew quieter. "I will take the Ring to Mordor," he repeated and everyone froze.  "Although I do not know the way."

Elrond exchanged looks with Gandalf, who smiled a little sadly. They had both foreseen this development, but it had to be entirely Frodo's choice.

Elrond looked searchingly into the faces of those who volunteered to go with Frodo. The man from Gondor, Boromir, certainly had his own agenda, and Elrond did not like his attitude when he talked about the Ring.  Evil will come of this, he thought, but it was not as though he could keep Boromir out of the company, their paths joined together for many leagues.

Suddenly the courtyard was full of hobbits, dozens of them; it seemed, but actually only the three companions of Frodo.  Merry and Pippin were being stubborn, arguing with Elrond, their arms folded in front of them.

"Nay," Elrond repeated, flatly.

Pippin became surprisingly stubborn.  "Then you will have to tie us up in a sack."

Elrond looked at Gandalf, who unexpectedly intervened for the young hobbits.

"Let it be so then," sighed Elrond, defeated. "Now the tale of the Nine is filled. In a fortnight the company must depart."

The courtyard emptied out slowly. Elrond sat down in his chair and closed his eyes. He took off his circlet and massaged his temple with his fingers.

"Lord Elrond," said a voice next to him.

Elrond opened his eyes. It was Legolas Greenleaf, son of King Thranduil of Eryn Galen.

"May I be of assistance to you?" Elrond asked politely in spite of a throbbing headache.

"Last evening, in the hall of singing," began Legolas, "there was a lady next to you."

"My daughter, Lady Arwen?"

"Nay," said Legolas, becoming embarrassed. "This lady did not resemble you, she had reddish hair."

"Perhaps you refer to my betrothed, Lady Culurien."

"Yes," said Legolas, excited. "I thought that was she, but I was not sure. She is a cousin of mine," he added, by way of explanation.

"Ah, yes," said Elrond. "I should have realized it. Why did you not come forward and speak to her?"

"I did not have anyone to present me, and I could not believe it was she. The last knowledge I had of her, she was married and residing in Lothlórien."

"Ah, yes," Elrond repeated, looking embarrassed in turn. "And you wish to know how she went from being the wife of one elf in one city, to the betrothed of another elf in a different city."

"Well, no," said Legolas, his cheeks scarlet. "Actually, yes, but no. I merely wanted to ascertain it was she and receive your permission to approach her."

"Granted," said Elrond. "If it is all the same to you, I do not believe I will go into all the circumstances. I think that should be the Lady's choice."

Legolas bowed and left the courtyard. Elrond closed his eyes and began the massage again.

"Lord Elrond," said a voice next to him. Elrond opened one eye. It was Glóin and his son Gimli, who had left the area to have words with each other and then returned.

"May I be of assistance to you?" Elrond asked politely as he rose, with a dark look in his grey eyes.

Glóin spoke. "My son Gimli, would like to apologize for his behavior during the council meeting."

And well he should, thought Elrond, Gimli having provoked the mêlée by continuously shouting 'never trust an elf.'  He stood silently, waiting.

Gimli was looking at his own feet. "Sorry."

Elrond looked at Glóin and raised an eyebrow. Glóin nudged his son in the ribs.

Gimli cleared his throat and started again.  " 'pologize, . . . should not have said that . . ." he mumbled gruffly, never looking up at the tall elf.

Elrond sighed. "Gimli son of Glóin.  I imagine you have many virtues, but verbal expression, politeness and tact cannot be numbered among them. Slow you should be to voice such opinions in the company of strangers on the road before you. Doing so, may put the entire Fellowship in jeopardy," Elrond paused, looking grimly at the dwarf.  "Are you still of the same mind concerning the journey?"

Gimli looked up. "I lack those things you mentioned.  Strength and loyalty I have greatly. If these are valued in a companion, I will still be welcome."

"I am sure of it," said Elrond, laying his hand on the other's shoulder. "Give some thought to your words before they emerge and you will have no need to find yourself in a situation such as this again."   Never trust an elf indeed, he thought, sitting once more. A person would have to be foolhardy or have a death wish to utter such a statement in Imladris.  The former, Elrond decided, sighing. He closed his eyes and began the massage again.

"Lord Elrond," said a voice next to him. Elrond did not open his eyes. Why had he not fled to his chamber when he had the chance, there was a nice lock on the door and . . .

Lord Elrond."

Elrond very slowly opened his eyes. The speaker was a man named Hirion from the nearby settlement of men in Rhudaur.

"May I be of assistance to you?" Elrond asked politely, through clenched teeth.

Yes, indeed, for Hirion and his companions were very confused by the discussion of this Council, how did these events affect Rhudaur, and what was all this talk of a king and that scruffy looking fellow sitting there, it was he? And where was Gondor, by the way and so on, and so forth, blah, blah, blah . . . .

Elrond closed his eyes.


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Culurien was in the garden cutting some late blooming flowers, when she heard a step behind her. She whirled around, alarmed.

"Culurien?" Legolas asked. "It is I, your cousin."

She breathed out a sigh, her heart beating rapidly. "Do not sneak up on one," she admonished. "You quite startled me."

"I am sorry," Legolas apologized.

Culurien looked at him for a minute, and then smiled. "Legolas Greenleaf.  What are you doing in Imladris?"

"I might ask you the same question," he responded.

Culurien paled slightly.  "Have you any news of my parents, or my brother and sister?"

"They are well, so far as I know."

"Ah, that is good," Culurien responded. "What is your errand here?"

"I came to give the Council news of the creature Gollum."

"Who?" Culurien asked.

Legolas shook his head. "Never mind.  It is a long story."  He paused.  "Cousin."  He put his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. "Everyone in Eryn Galen thinks you are married to Gwindor of Lothlórien."

"I was, sixty-seven years ago," said Culurien biting her lip and turning from his gaze.

"What happened?" asked Legolas. "Was he slain?"

"Nay, he lives."

Legolas looked at her for a moment.  "Do you not wish to tell me?"

"I do not, actually," she admitted. "But I will, for you would find out eventually."  She took a deep breath. "I am unable to bear children.  Gwindor had our marriage annulled."

Legolas looked shocked. He was speechless.

"I was somewhat distraught over this as you may well imagine," she continued. "Lady Arwen, daughter of Lord Elrond was living in Lothlórien with her grandparents and we were friends. It was she who suggested that I come to Imladris for treatment of my mental anguish."  She paused. "I did so, and here I remained."

"Betrothed to Lord Elrond," said Legolas, impressed. "When is the wedding?"

"I know not," said Culurien. Legolas raised his eyebrows. "This also is a long story.  I will tell it to you another time. How long will you be here?"

"Two weeks," Legolas replied. "Then I journey with the Fellowship of Nine Walkers."

She looked into his face. "Your task is grim," she observed. "It is," admitted Legolas, agreeing.

"I wish you well, Cousin," Culurien said, holding out her hand. Legolas took it and kissed it.

"I wish you well also," he said. "May you find happiness."

"Then your wish is granted, for I have found it." Culurien smiled. "We speak as if you are leaving immediately. We will have more opportunities to talk later."

She turned back to her flowers as Legolas walked away. Something caught the corner of his eye as he was leaving the garden and he slowed, looking around. It was a man, one of Hirion's company, sitting alone on a bench.

There is nothing strange about that, thought Legolas, walking on. But it did seem odd, somehow. Was he watching Culurien? Not very likely.

She jumped at the sound of a deep male voice.

"There you are, Brandir," said Hirion.

Culurien peered through the rows of tall flowers to see two men sitting on a bench, not far from her.  She picked up her basket and walked quickly towards the house. She found Elrond in his chamber, lying on the bed with a cold cloth across his forehead.  "Mellhîr!"

He held up a hand. "Quietly, please, quietly."

"Oh," she said. "Headache?"

He nodded.

"Shall I fix you something?"

"No," he returned quickly. "I will be fine."

"If your condition is any indication," she surmised, "I would guess the Council did not go very well?"

"The end went well enough."  He sighed. "Getting there was a trial."

Culurien removed the cloth and kissed him, her hands cool on his face. "I have a cousin visiting Imladris."

"Yes, I have just been made aware of that.  Have you spoken to him?"

"Yes," she replied softly. Elrond looked at her face. He moved over a little and she got into bed with him.  They lay in each other's arms; her head nestled on his shoulder.

Lindir came silently into the room and regarded them for a moment. He smiled and drew all the curtains shut.  He walked softly out, closing the door to the bed chamber behind him as he went into the study, thanking Eru Ilúvatar for the gift of Culurien with all of his heart.

There, he sat at Elrond's desk, put his feet up, and fended off a steady stream of visitors for the remainder of the afternoon.


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