My Immortal
Shreds

"You hide something within your heart. A thing you have told no one, not even Elrond. What is it?" Very little could anyone hide from the Lady of Light. She did not pry deeply into the minds of those around her, allowed her loved ones and acquaintances a certain amount of privacy, but sometimes the heart wailed so loudly that she could not help but hear the anguish of their soul. Her daughter was trying to hide it, even from her own self, but she could not suppress it completely. Galadriel lamented inwardly at seeing her daughter so pained.

Celebrían stood at the window watching nature thrive beyond the walls of her home. It did not seem to comfort her. Her countenance appeared small and vulnerable, less confident and hopefully. The Lady of the Golden Wood shared a look with her husband and could see his eyes mirror the same thought. Still, they said nothing, allowing their daughter time. "What do you mean, Naneth?" she asked softly, still hiding from the truth within her.

Standing from where she had been sitting for the better part of the past two days, Galadriel moved like a shadow to where her child was. She brushed back Celebrían's curly, golden hair and drew her eyes to her face. "You have a choice lingering within your thoughts. Only if you accept that it is there will you be able to make the choice and be rid of the weight of it."

Any other mother may have looked away from the terrible pain that surfaced within her child's expression, but Galadriel would not back down from her daughter's emotions. Not if she had any chance of helping her understand and overcome them. Celebrían's eyes moistened and she shook her head. "Ai, Nana. I cannot make this choice. With it will come pain for all, no matter what I decide."

"What is it, child?" Celeborn asked gently, looking at her with gentle concern. He approached the two of them and raised his hand to her back to rub. Celebrían turned her eyes towards the window again, wiping at tears that had trespassed onto her cheeks. Galadriel recalled the relationship between father and daughter she had witnessed as Celebrían grew up. Many times had he comforted her with such tender actions, but it did not seem to work this time. He did not let that deter him. "Will you not speak it even to me?"

"If I speak it I will have to decide," she whispered, wiping her cheeks again.

The Lord of Lórien knit his brow, troubled deeply. "My dear, seeing you thus is as a wound has been dealt to me. Is there no words I can say that will ease your mind?" He drew her around patiently, lifting her chin that he could peer into her sad eyes. Celebrían drew her chin away and threw herself into his offered embrace. Celeborn brushed his cheek against the top of her head, closing his eyes as he held her. "There is nothing that cannot be healed with time."

Their daughter shook her head, her eyes held tightly shut. "I do not know if I can believe that, Ada. I do not know if I can bear the pain or the dreams anymore. I feel such sorrow and I cannot be rid of it." Her urgent voice dropped to a whisper. "I have been thinking of taking a ship into the West."

So that was what it was. Galadriel looked into her husband's eyes mournfully. Many things had been shown to her concerning the future, but not this. It was as if this vision had been denied them for a purpose, but what that was she could not guess. Taking Celebrían's hand, the Lady of Lórien said softly, "Do you think such drastic action is required? Do you give up on life here so readily?"

Her voice was sharp with her reply. "I cannot live this way! My mind dwells upon the terrible moments I spent within the caves. I hear their growling voices and feel the touch of their blades against my skin. My children, I do not want them to see me without hope. And…and I cannot bear the touch my husband!" With that admission came another quiet storm. Celebrían pillowed her face against her father's shoulder and clung to him as she sobbed. "I love him so and yet when he puts his hands upon me in the way of a husband I am filled with dread and memory."

Galadriel lowered her eyes, feeling the wall holding back her own emotions wearing thin. This would be a hard thing for all involved, but she understood that Celebrían could not be allowed to go on in such dreadful pain. She lifted Celebrían's hand and traced the contours of her fingers, saying softly, "Then you have already made the choice."

As she feared their daughter nodded, finally speaking her acceptance of the truth. "I am going to the Grey Havens."

Three forms traversed the hallways towards a destination currently unknown. It had been a good day. With the arrival of the Lady and Lord of Lothlórien had seemed to follow a lifting of the great burden, as if a wellspring of hope had bubbled up and cleansed the House of Elrond of all its pain. The twins were in high spirits and Legolas was grateful for it. The warning that the Lady of Light's words had left within his heart was all but forgotten by now. He grinned as Elladan spoke animatedly of taking a break, the three of them going on a little hunting trip as the two of them escorted the Prince of Mirkwood back home. "We will go on a hunt such as they have not spoken of in centuries, yes?"

Elrohir smirked at his brother's exuberance. "Indeed, though sadly, our dear friend here will only be able to watch our glory." He nodded towards Legolas' shoulder.

The elder twin nodded in mock mourning, crossing his hands before him solemnly. "I had not considered that. Well, I can say only one thing to that, mellon nin."

"And what is that?" Legolas waited for the inevitable.

Elladan gave his uninjured shoulder and good-natured pat. "Too bad."

Legolas shook his head, shoving his friend away from him. "Try not to sound so sympathetic."

"I can't help it," he laughed, darting his hand around, trying to hit Legolas on the head even as the Prince of Mirkwood blocked. "I am all broken up about it."

"Indeed," Elrohir agreed, avoiding the little tiff as best he could. Together the three of the rounded a corner. His attention drawn to Elladan, Legolas did not perceive Elrohir's sudden stop and ran into him. He stumbled, then turned to give his friend an annoyed expression, but it fell from his visage almost as soon as he had tried. Not one of them spoke, filling the hallway with a dreadful silence marred only by the calming of the breathing of one that had been upset.

His expression softened as he looked upon the stairway, upon the form that sat, his head bowed, his face resting within his hands. Raven hair tumbled down the stormy blue of his robe, loosened from its customary circlet. The item had been hurled across the room, Legolas saw, looking at the floor near his feet. He looked away when Lord Elrond became aware of the presence of others and met their surprised gazes. His gray eyes were shielded by the moisture of sorrow and his voice was heavy in desolation. "Teli, ionath nin," he breathed raggedly, pulling himself up with the aid of the banister. He stepped off the stair and motioned towards his study nearby.

"Not this," Elrohir whispered, following his father. He looked up at his brother gravely as Elladan lingered.

Legolas put his hand on his shoulder, trying to impart some sort of comfort through his gaze. Elladan exhaled, pale and looking as though he were entering a place of death as he said, "Telithon, Adar." Pulling away from his friend, the elder followed as well, in silence.

Out of respect Legolas did not go where he had not been beckoned. He waited in the hallway as the three of them retreated into the study. Suddenly all the freedom of the past two days seemed gone, as if it had been a dream that gave way finally to the bitterness of reality. Absently he bent down, picking up Elrond's circlet, which he carried to where he sank down into a nearby chair. Where it had lain was the shards of a broken vase, a delicate piece of glass that had housed a single rose. Water sprinkled the floor and the crimson flower was alone in the small puddle, its petals scattered. The force must have been terrible. Elrond would have to have thrown his circlet hard.

It could only mean something grave. Legolas thought about Galadriel's words, that he would be needed here still and that it would cost him more than time. What could it mean? What could he possibly do to mend the wounds he felt the family of his friends were now being dealt?

He could not hear what was being said behind the door that had been closed until only a crack remained, but when his friend cried out it came to him, filling his ears with the terrible emotion of the sound. Legolas closed his eyes, fingering the circlet, trying to block it out as Elladan yelled, "Tell me you are lying! Tell me what you say is not true!" Whatever Elrond's response was, the Prince of Mirkwood did not know, but his friend gave another cry of anguish.

The doorway opened and Elrohir exited, running his hands through his hair. He looked down with wide, pained eyes that did not hold understanding. What could have been said to cause such an expression? He wanted to ask, but knew to do so may cause more stress. Elrohir moved slowly to where his father had been seated upon the stairs, sat down and assimilated the grave news he had been told. Not long behind him Elladan stormed from the study, his eyes blazing in renewed fury that went beyond any that Legolas had seen since this terrible tragedy had begun.

He stopped between them, looking to neither his brother nor his friend as he spoke. "Legolas, you call yourself my friend and I believe you. Therefore as my friend I bid something of you in the gravest of need. Come to the stables at dark. Bring your weapons. Brother, I do not question whether or not you will follow." There was a finality to his tone that left no doubt in the mind of Legolas that when the sun fell he would indeed go to the stables, if nothing else than to try and talk sense into his friend.

Elladan departed their presence then, stalking down the hallway, both of them looking after his angry form. Feeling out of place, not knowing what to say, Legolas sighed and turned his gaze then upon Elrohir. "Whatever was said, I will be here."

His friend did not appear convinced that would be of the help required, but nodded his thanks nonetheless. "Your words mean a lot to me. And to Elladan as well, Legolas. Never doubt that."

The Prince of Mirkwood nodded silently as his friend got up and chased off after his twin. From the study came the final form, appearing no better than before. Though their reactions were different, each of them, they shared one common denominator between them. Each of their faces bore the semblance of disbelief and despair. He knew not what to say Lord Elrond, did not know that it was his place to say anything, but the pain etched on the elder's face compelled him to speak. It reminded him so much of the way his father had looked after his mother had been lost. "Are you all right, my Lord?"

Elrond moved with a quiet grace, approaching and reaching out. The younger gave him his headdress, noting the great sorrow in those age-wise eyes. "I am all right, Legolas. I believe."

Legolas stood up, not convinced. "If there is anything I can do to serve…" He felt the urge to look away as the Elf-lord met his gaze.

"Hannon le," he whispered, laying a hand on his shoulder as he moved to pass him. "You are a kind soul, Thranduilion. My sons are fortunate to have such friendship. If you will excuse me, I have things I must attend to."

As the Lord of Rivendell passed, he saw in his mind's eye the face of his own father. Whatever had happened was grievous indeed and it hurt him to see the evidence of it before him. Turning, feeling empty suddenly and the need to do something, he said, "Are you sure you will be all right?" His father had not been all right for weeks. His father had closed off a part of himself after the loss they had suffered. Elrond looked up and Legolas implored him with his eyes not to fall to the same grief. "They will need you." Why he said it he did not know, but Elrond seemed to understand.

"I will be here, Legolas. Do not worry." With that he turned away with a will not to be stopped again.

He felt cold inside and afraid, his joy for his friend's recovering their mother smashed now and replaced by the foreboding feeling that something dreadful was about to happen.

Author: Ruse

Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings isn't mine and nor is Elrond, unfortunately, nor Legolas or Aragorn. No infringement intended.

Sindar:
1 – Teli, ionath nin. – Come, my sons.
2 – Telithon, Adar. – I will come, Father.
3 – Thranduilion. – Son of Thranduil.

A/N: Hey, thanks! :) Glad you guys are enjoying!! My poor sweet Elrond. sniffle I wuv him.