"The Beginning of the End"
Written By: Ears
Written For: Blue Iris
A gust of wind swept through Lothlorien, sliding through between the branches and sending golden leaves spinning to the ground. A bit too cold for early September, Celeborn noted to himself, but he enjoyed its refreshing chill nonetheless.
The birds aubade rang through the trees, greeting the morning sun. He heard familiar footsteps behind him, and the soft crunching of crisp dried leaves. He paused and turned around, sending silver hair whipping to the other shoulder, and saw Galadriel quickening her pace to meet him.
"May a lady join you on your morning walk?" she beamed. Her voice was melodious, her eyes clear and content, recovered and relieved from the past evil-filled years. So much like when we first met, he remembered. It seemed she recalled similarity of the situation to their first encounter under the trees of Doriath as well, for both their tense lips began to curve into a smile. The simultaneous grin evolved into a laugh, ringing like silver bells in the morning quiet.
He took her hand, and they continued down the leaf-covered path. Inhaling the fresh morning, air, they were immersed in their own bliss. Thousands of years old, but still enchanted by the others presence like young lovers, they clasped their hands, fingers intertwining, as the breeze shifted the gold and silver hair into a shimmering banner.
Autumn had come early this year, and the leaves, through reluctant to part with their thick branches, were scattered across the forest floor. Celeborn stopped, and turned to face his wife.
"Months ago," he began slowly "you mentioned you were leaving." His tone was gentle, even more than usual, and casual. Yet Galadriel could detect a trace of an accusation in it.
"Leaving..." she echoed. The word was drawn out, as if it was foreign, and she was debating its definition.
"Sailing away, and leaving behind the land, the forests, the trees, and..." his voiced ceased any hint of accusation now became sorrowful, though his eyes yet showed no pain.
Galadriel paused before responding. "Yes," she finally said, "I will be leaving." And she smiled sadly, "And no, my love, I cannot bring Lothlorien with me across the sea."
She resumed her walking, and Celeborn followed.
"Then it is left to fade," he stated matter-of-factly.
"All things fade eventually. I suppose it is just a matter of when. My departure won't hinder the world's changing, for that which the elves have created have already started to succumb to time. All held together by the power of the Rings have began their fading. For the power of the ring itself had left months ago, and I could do nothing to stop its effect on Lothlorien."
Celeborn nodded, agreeing, but now wanting to accept. "It is the price we all had to pay. We freed the world from evil, and the people from the bonds that held them to Middle-earth. Instead of orcs sweeping through the lands, it is the Call of the Sea."
He raised her hand with Nenya on it to cradle it in his. Staring down at the band of mithril, he thought back to Celebrimbor. Of his sinful ancestry, of his lover for Galadriel, of his crafts. If only, Celeborn thought, if only these rings were never made. If only we were not bound to one. If only, if only...
He released her hand, and continued walking, each lost in their own thoughts.
After a moment, Celeborn paused again, and Galadriel looked at him questioningly. He gestured upwards, and she followed his gaze up the trunk of a mallorn trunk. There the lord and lady of Lothlorien could see a structure in the once-lush branches, where the tree had grown to accomodate the talan that had been there for the past thousands of years. The flet was empty now, no soft voices accompanying the birds' morning song, no farewells of the male leaving for border patrol. It was still, not glowing with life, and both Celeborn and Galadriel knew that the elves that hand once inhabited it had left.
"So Galadhir and his wife have departed from these shores, never to return. Their bond with this land was weakened, overcome by the sea and it's pull. May he find eternal bliss when he beholds the light of Taniquetil for the first time," she blessed.
"Many more have left. Sauron's damage will be permanent for Lorien," he murmured, voice filled with regret.
She paused before reaching out and touching his shoulder in comfort. "The sea will affect us all, hir nín, ring or no. I can hold them here no longer." She took his hand and lead him away from the empty talan, mere remnants of a great beauty that once occupied it.
Their stroll had taken them around in a circle, and within minutes they would be back in Caras Galathon,. Another strong breeze swept through, and golden leaves, loosened from the cling that had kept them on their branches, spiraled to the ground. One gracefully fell and was caught in Galadriel's mesh of unbound hair, waving in the wind. Celeborn drew it out of the golden strands, and held the crisp dried leaf gingerly in his long fingers.
"Autumn winds have descended upon these woods before its time this year," he murmured, and Galadriel nodded in response. A beam of light streamed through the canopy overhead and like a spotlight, showered the brown leaf with sunshine.
"Yes, I wish it were not so, but my mind tells me these woods will not see another thousand years of the seasons changing," Galadriel cast down her eyes, mourning for the forest that was her home for centuries. "It will be autumn for a long while yet, and when spring comes, and summer after it, the warmth will be short before the leaves start falling again."
"And we can do nothing." He knew they were powerless now to stop time from sweeping through and consuming the trees, but he almost hoped that Galadriel, with all her wisdom and ideas, could come up with some solution. His hopes evaporated however, when she shook her head, both in sadness and agreement.
Celeborn reached out to the nearest trunk, caressing the smooth bark. He said to the tree, "The Elves are leaving. The leaves are leaving..." his voice trailed off, and he reached with his free hand to take Galadriel's in his. "You, my love, are leaving."
"And you too, one day must leave," she finished for him.
He glanced back and forth between the tree and his wife, as if torn between his two loves.
Celeborn was old. He was wise, had seen many a trouble in the world, survived many wars. Yet never had he felt as lost as he did now. "When," he wondered allowed, "when will the trees leave?" He turned towards his wife. "When will you leave?" And then after a pause, "and I..." Unable to continue, he sighed.
And though he knew these answers himself, Galadriel's ever soothing voice answered from behind. "The trees will be here for years to come. Their leaves will fall and re-grow, until their final parting from the trees. And the grounds will be covered in a blanked of gold, and the branches will be bare. It will be centuries, or perhaps even another age before the trees cease to glow with color and the Nimrodel ceases it's trickling song. Only time will tell when the wood itself will be gone, for it is time that will whisk through and dance through the bare branches, embracing the wood and carrying them away, one by one, as their life withers and dries, joining the leaves strewn across the floor.
"And I, I leave much sooner, in weeks. My time is done in Middle-earth; staying will not halt its evolution. Galadhir and his family have gone, but many have made preparations and will go with me to the shores. And there they will behold the Blessed Realm for their first time.
"You, my love, you will go whenever you are ready...and I will wait for you there, across the seas."
He took her warm hands in his cool ones, and held her close. Thousands of years without leaving each other's sides, and now, how long would their separation last?
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The smooth lapping of water against the wooden docks of Mithlond soothed Celeborn as he embraced his wife. His hands clung to her golden curls, trying to savor the feel of the thick strands as they trickled through his open fingers. Before she turned to the ship, he reached into the folds of his robe and pulled out a small yellow flower. Opening her hand, he placed the season's last elanor blossom in her palm, and smiled as her fingers closed over the stem.
"The forest has just begun to fade. When you see my ship approach the shores of Valinor, know that it is the end of their End; I will leave Middle-earth when they do," he pledged.
She looked into his eyes, and nodded. "I will weep for the leaves, but now I smile, for it shows you are one with the woods."
As the white ship headed out to meet the setting sun, she looked back at the silver-headed figure at the dock. And she who once held the power that bound together a Golden Realm shed a tear for the forest she had left, and the beloved who was still bound to it.
Celeborn stared at the horizon, until the ship was no more than a speck in the ocean, brilliantly reflecting the orange sun. And he heard her words echo in his head, I will wait for you there, across the seas.