Disclaimer: LotR belongs to Tolkien. The quote belongs to John Donne. The crappy formatting is courtesy of this marvelous site. All the rest – mine.
Author's Notes: This ficlet was originally written for a fanfic exchange, wherein we all submitted what we liked to write, and what we liked to read, and were paired off. I received the challenge of an Elrond/Celebrian fic – quite the challenge, as I'd never tackled Elves before. I think it worked out all right, and I've tried to post several times, but could never get the formatting to behave. It's still not so great, but it is at least legible this time. Hope you enjoy this bit of fluff that I shall, without further ado, present to you..
More than kisses, letters mingle souls;
For, thus friends absent speak.
-- John Donne
The time was fast approaching -- the two hobbits were settled into their home on Tol Eressea and the ship was nearing Valinor -- and Elrond did not know what to do. He glared at the single sheet of paper on the desk before him, he glared at the quill and ink sitting there so innocently. His long-cherished plan, of surprising his dear wife, announcing his arrival in the West via letter, was being foiled by an unanticipated problem. He did not know what to write.
Perhaps the past would give some inspiration. Rising, and sighing, Elrond made his way to the chest tucked into a corner of his cabin. Nimble fingers undid the intricate latch and lifted the lid, found the packet of yellowing parchments nestled among his things. Gently unfolding the first of the treasured notes, he settled back into his chair and read.
My dearest lord,
But a few weeks on the road to my home, and already I begin to miss you! How long shall your current business delay your joining me, my love? I long for the trees of Lorien, but moreso I long for my beloved husband and lord. It is, after all, but fifteen years since we wed, and this our first lengthy separation. I hope I may be forgiven my feelings, though my expression of them is, perhaps, rather effusive.
I must make haste and close this note, love, for the party returning to our Imladris is ready to leave. But know that I miss you each day of our separation, and I fear that I shall be quite as impatient as a lady of the Second People, in my waiting for my spouse to join me.
Let not my impatience cause you undue haste, dear Elrond. But know that you are in my thoughts each day, for I am yours always,
Celebrian
Smiling, Elrond re-folded the paper, brittle with age -- for it was, after all, several hundreds of years old -- and, tucking it back amongst its fellows, removed another. Glancing at the folded parchment, he saw that the direction was written in his own hand, and considered, for a moment, replacing it and reading another piece of his wife's correspondence. He changed his mind, however, and unfolded the letter.
Celebrian, love,
How fare things in Imladris? Whatever the weather, conditions must be better there. The name of Mirkwood is indeed apt. Remind me, darling, that when next a council is required, we should invite King Thranduil to our home.
Do the children fare well? Watching our friend Thranduil's youngest, a dear lad named Legolas, I am reminded of just how mischievous our twins can be. Do not hesitate to entrust them solely to their nurses, dear, if they become too much trouble. You are an inimitable mother, but those two will surely wear you down -- particularly in your condition.
I trust you are resting enough. As I write this, I watch the moon. It is beginning to wax again -- now there are but three moons before the arrival of this new little one. Take care, darling. Do not, at the least, allow yourself to be pulled into one of Elladan and Elrohir's pranks. Leave that to Glorfindel, for he has but one life to care for.
I must go, my love -- Thranduil summons me. It is our hope to begin the journey home within a week. Looking forward to that happy day, I am yours always,
Elrond
With a chuckle, Elrond folded the letter. 'Such prose! Rather hard to believe it came from my own hand, so accustomed to the dry letter of business as it is.' Still smiling, he returned his attention to the task at hand. Letter after letter was read, each evoking its own memories, 'til finally he came to one at the bottom of the pile. Ever so slightly his fingers trembled as he realized this was the last of this history of correspondence with his wife. He knew what was contained within, and never had he read it without pain. This time, the pain was slight, for he knew that its cause would soon be gone. He began to read.
My Elrond,
You know my reasons for departure, dear. We shall not mention those in these, our last minutes together. You watch as I write this, waiting to say our goodbyes...
It pains me so to write this, the last letter you shall ever receive from me on these shores of Arda marred. And yet I cannot be pained, when I think of whither I go. I shall miss you so, and our children -- but do permit my happiness at the thought of finally reaching Valinor.
Valinor! It goes without saying, my love, that I shall be happy. And yet I begin to miss you already, and we have not yet said goodbye. Oh, dearest lord, how shall these years pass, when we are separated? And yet, it is not permanent. It is but a temporary separation, as all others have been. But so long! You know as well as I what must be done before you can join me. Who among us can know how long it will take, this cleansing of Arda for the Men -- this fading of the Eldar? Perhaps Manwe, the Elder King himself, knows -- perhaps none but Eru Iluvatar. It may be thousands of years, and love, this thought rends my heart. Yet go I must. I shall dwell on it no longer.
Know, then, my dearest, how much I love you. Always remember this. I cannot leave you with any other thought, for it is all the comfort I have to offer. Small comfort it may be, but it shall keep you through these years if you will allow it. Remember our love, and think of the day of our reunion. Oh, happy day, that shall see us together again! Not a day will go by that I shall not think of it, and of you, who are always first in my heart. I shall wait patiently for that blessed day, remembering our love,
Your Celebrian
The smallest of smiles formed on his lips as he put away the letters, yet it broadened quickly into something most closely resembling a grin -- for that happy day had arrived at last. And there was very little waiting -- very little time -- left. He could hear the crew of the ship up above, preparing to dock. So he returned to his desk, this time quite sure of what to write.
The ship was in port, and the passengers disembarked. Elrond dispatched his letter with an elflet who had come to the docks to watch the arrival. Galadriel, having heard of his plans, watched with amusement the mounting excitement in the dignified elf. Her son-in-law looked truly happy, for the first time in the centuries since her daughter's departure. Much as she longed to see Celebrian herself, she knew well enough to allow her daughter's husband the first joy of reunion.
Lagging behind the lad carrying his missive, Elrond could not but help feeling rather foolish. This was the trick of a schoolboy -- to end a separation of so many years in this fashion! Yet it could not be helped now. He paused as the messenger stopped in a doorway, and, knocking, spoke with someone inside. A moment's pause, and then his repressed smile broke out again as he heard, beyond the bustle of the busy way, a clear cry of joy from a voice as familiar as his own. He stepped forward, then, to the door, and the paper fluttered to the ground, the writing clearly visible, and clearly no longer needed.
My Celebrian,
Remember our love, for it is the day of our reunion! Oh, happy day, that sees us together again! Not a day has gone by that I have not thought of it, and of you, who is always first in my heart. I have waited patiently for this blessed day, remembering our love,
Your Elrond