The next days brought many new occurrences, days turned to weeks and weeks to months, and months passed their seasons from springs to winters, summers to falls. In the tenth year of the Third Age of the world, as the season of summer came upon the lands of Lorinand, the dreams of Lady Galadriel were upset, not by terrors or darkness, but by a solitary image of the unending sea and a perilous song from the edge of its mighty width. She wept that night, calling out the names of her brothers, her father, her mother...a lament for all she left, the ring burned upon her finger, as she looked so perilously at it. The weeks of harrowing images passed in silence until one day, having grown worried for the sanity of his wife Celeborn announced he would then leave the realm of Lorinand and make for the southern lands, below the borders of Gondor, as to why that place he could not say, only that it was time his ever moving bones walked again and his idle hands forged kingdoms from the sand.
The host he would take was few in number, numbering only in the hundreds, half of Sindar the other of the Silvan folk, who had never before seen the fabled ocean. Young they all were, born half way through the previous age, all mesmerized by the songs of the Noldor, the lays they told of sea kings and perilous journeying.
Celebrin watched as these youth darted this way and that, seldom asking him what it was to live by the sea, enthralled by leaving their homes of thousands of years, to seek adventure and a new beginning. He laughed at their behavior, at their youthfulness and innocence, he then walked on to a small clearing where Alphindil sat by the river bed, digging his richly carved stave into the mud of the river bank. He leaned on a tree watching silently at how with one hand Alphindil loosened a smooth rock and washed in the riverbed, revealing its shining quality, and its smooth green surface. At length he spoke,
"Stones have always been your love have they not old friend? You will find many more by the sea shore."
"Alas it will be my joy to do so...and to breathe again the salt of the sea."
Alphindil struggled to stand, pulling himself up with his right hand using the stave, and pushing up with his right leg, the only one to have regained full usage. Pain wreathed across his face as he struggled, causing Celebrin to go and help him in the task and say,
"Why do you continue to attempt to sit as you once did, knowing it causes you pain both in the going and the return?"
"I will not be doted upon by servants and sit forever in a chair as the ancient ones of mortals do...The pain is unbearable, it will ease by the sea, mark my words."
Together they walked slowly to where the host began to gather; Thingalad, now fully grown to riding stature, moved uneasily in the hands of the stable hand beside him, seeing Celebrin the young horse tossed his head into the air, and quickly nuzzled him. In handing the reins to Celebrin the stable hand looked uneasily at Celebrin, prompting him to say,
"My... wife thanks you, for the home you have given us..."
"Now young one, I told you I was indebted to you, to that I still am lacking just payment...this will still not make us even however."
Handing the youth a small satchel he grinned as he helped Alphindil onto the back of the horse, tying the stave to the side of the young steed. The youth opened the satchel and gasped at what he saw inside, removing the brown cover he revealed a book bound in a soft blue binding, which was engraved with markings from an ancient place and time. Looking at Celebrin he could find no words, and only smiled foolishly, Celebrin placed his hand encouragingly on the youths shoulders saying,
"This book...is the history of our people, the Sindar of Doriath, and the Nandor of Ossiriand and beyond. In it are lays and songs, tales and memoirs of a time long past, I had it made in Mithlond long ago, now I give it to you, a prized and cherished thing to me, teach it to your son, teach him the art of song, and joy, ere sorrow come again."
And leading the white-gray horse to the front of the train, he blew the horn of farewell and a great host once again left the borders of Lorinand, the golden wood, and made their way south, passing Calenardhon, to the very edge of the Mountains of Mist, and passed the Great Forest of Fangorn, beyond the Borders of Gondor, the southern kingdom of Men in that age. And beyond they walked and rode, at night and by day, to the sound of the sea, and came to a land fair and green, where swans filled the air with the gulls of the sea. The land lay empty of life, save for a few settlements of mortal men, yet they lay far in the distance, and could not see where these fair folk came to reside.
In the cliffs of the rocky shores they made their homes, and in the surrounding forests, singing songs and living with ease beside the sea. Yet all was not well in this realm, for though joy was paramount of all, one lonely voice cried out in the darkness as the years went by, each time on the same perilous night. And he would weep as he held his arm that had not moved since that dark day. He would wake from dreams, clinging to his companion, dousing his tunic in tears. And at times the pain of his leg and shoulder was too much to bear, causing him to enter a fey-like rage, throwing the gems of his workshop onto the floor, and throwing carved wood into the fires of his smithy. Then after he would sit in silence and darkness brooding over the pain and loss of hope that day. Yet when the day ended his mood cleared and he would grin a wiry smile and laugh again as if nothing happened before.
So it came to pass, that after many years, living by the sea, an emissary came from the north, from Imladris, dressed in dark sable robes, and walking as a lord of the Eldar. Before the very seat of Celeborn the figure bowed and removed his hood, revealing the very face of the lord of Imladris, in a tongue so filled with honor, and hope, he asked for the very hand of Celebrian in marriage saying,
"My lord Celeborn, I have come from my own home, through lands far and wide, to bend my knee before you, and ask for that which you deem most precious to you in the world...Though you hold her dear to your heart, I tell you with the utmost truth in my own that my love for her can rival that of her father's...I ask for the hand of your daughter, whom I have come to love these past ages, and who, if she will it, loves me all the same."
And the Silver lord, looked hale and emotionless, looking to his wife and then to his daughter, who could not hide her surprise or her joy at hearing what was said. He rose from his seat, walking over to her, he loomed over her, in silence he looked into her eyes. And she looked into his, and amid their silent converse, he smiled and said,
"Now I see, my little one, how much you have waited to hear those words...Go to him, if you still hold him dear."
And Celebrian, after embracing her father, ran to the kneeling figure of Elrond and took him into her arms, kissing him it seemed for the first time in public, revealing their silent love that brewed beneath their quaking hearts.
And joy was spread throughout the elven realms to hear of the marriage of Celebrian and Elrond, and their spring wedding, 109 years after the beginning of that age, when all seemed so hopeful after the darkness. In Imladris their celebration was made, and the halls of the House of Elrond were filled with merriment and joy, and upon the seats of honored guest sat Celeborn and Galadriel, and beside them King Amroth, and to the edge of the table, in a place they had never sat before, sat Celebrin and Alphindil, in fine robes fit for princes of the Eldar.
The occurrences of these days are written in the histories of the elves, yet more beautifully are they kept in the hearts and eyes of those who saw them, they who saw the surprise upon Celebrian and Elrond's face when dwarves from Khazad-dum brought forth jewels in the trunk loads to her feet, and bowed gently before her. It is written in the eyes of they who saw they Silver-queen and her raven haired friend dance among the beats of drums, and the reunion of half-father and half-son in a tight and warm embrace, and the face of joy upon the Silver Lord, when his daughter completed the ceremony of marriage, not able to contain her joy.
Thus were those early days passed in peace, into joyous years and soothing decades; in the land by the sea Celeborn and Galadriel lived in peace, hearing day by day the crashing of the waves.
And in their gentle home, carved into the cliff Celebrin wrote into books his memories in song, before going out for the fishing of pearls and the gathering of sea-smoothed stones, only to bring them back to the shop of his friend, who spent his days fingering these beauties, and little else, sorrowful in that he could not make anything of them. And the weight of the sea-song weighed heavily upon Alphindil, as he massaged his left shoulder free of its pain, a pain that never really disappeared, a pain that he carried on for years; and he watched the sea's rolling waves, until one harrowing day, Celebrin rushed through the door, smiling and laughing, smelling of sea water, holding dearly in his hands a gift for his friend wrapped in tattered clothing.
"I have brought you a thing of great beauty...look."
Looking at the unraveled gift and seeing an opal pearl, of many hues, smooth and without blemish, made so by the waves of the sea. And while on any day he would have relished in this gift he instead turned his head in disgust, prompting his companion to say,
"I had thought you would make something of it, possibly for the birth of Celebrian's third child, I hear news say it is a girl of..."
"What makes you think I can make things of beauty... for your silver queen."
"Are you..."
"Yes I am well Celebrin and you!"
"I do not believe you."
"How bright you are indeed old friend! How bright you are to finally witness my pain!"
Alphindil now stood, and struggling walked to the hearth, poking the dying flames with his stave, until in frustration he threw the richly carved item into the fire itself. Leaning on the mantle, he grabbed his seizing leg, his face writhing in pain. Celebrin moved to help him but was pushed away by unlooked for strength.
"Do not touch me! I do not need your help! Do not treat me like some dotard who requires your help day and night!"
"You are not yourself Alphindil...it is the sickness."
"Cursed leg, and cursed friend, to treat me so...as a wife who waits the arrival of her lord from a days work that she knows little of! I know not why I returned to you, if I knew you would treat me so, and see my deformities as something to be pitied...I am not one to be pitied Celebrin!"
"I do not pity you...I have only ever cared for you!"
"A tamed horse, a domesticated dog, where is your wayward spirit oh mighty elf of Doriath. It is lost...he now knows a home, caring for the weak is his duty now, a warrior no more worthy of song than a...
"Heed your words my friend."
Celebrin's chest began to heave at these insults, Alphindil laughed as one fey, his face changing from fey and laughing, to harrowing in searing pain.
"What strength have you left in body oh mighty warrior; caring for the sick must have made you weak in stomach has it not...waiting on me has tamed your wild spirit has it not?"
"Alphindil..."
"Look how low the mighty Sickle of Doriath has become, waiting upon cripples and madmen! A farce... a farce of a noble name!"
Unable to control himself Celebrin raised his hand and struck Alphindil across his cheek causing him to fall to the ground and bleed from his mouth, striking him into reality out of his rage, made drunken by pain. Seeing blood upon his fist Celebrin broke his red eyes of rage, and felt blood trickle once again from his own cheek, he ran in fear and sorrow out into the darkening day. Alphindil crawled away from the hearth, to the chair nearby, realizing all he had said; he placed his face into his hands and mourned the passing of his sanity that past hour. His thoughts raced here and there, into shadows that had unfathomable depths, where darknes lay and no light went hither. This was the place in the mind that drove men mad, that bade them take their own life to hide the horrors within; yet the Eldar, being of stronger mind, could walk such a place, for a brief moment of time. Within him Alphindil saw,
a crying lonely child, whose tears made a river flow beneath him and flood into the sea, the child wore red fabric on his leftt arm and leg, which were tied to a old and withered cypress. The child cried and wailed, yet Alphindil could not move, for he himself was that child, he tried to rip the fabric from him, but it tightened in his efforts, until it began to draw blood.
His thoughts were interrupted by the screeching of the door, and the figure of Celebrin, downtrodden and shamed, entereing the room; they needed no words, and I silence they sat beside one another, starring into the blazing flame until Alphindil spoke,
"I want to go home..."
"We are home..."
"No...home"
"Oh..."
Silence followed, as both knew what must be done, dreading every moment of their thoughts of leaving again a place they made for themselves, vagabonds and without homes. Celebrin himself, did not, for the first time in his life, wish to leave a place he had come to know as his home. Yet for this one who sat beside him weary of the weight of the sea song, he would do anything, therefore he raised his head to view the roof of their home among the cliffs and sighing said at last,
"Very well then."
Celebrin stood and after helping Alphindil to his room, he took a small cloak, for it began to rain as it often did, and left the house built into the cliff and strode some distance away, to the very edge of the ridge, where the mountainous cliffs reached out to the sea, and the rocky edges below, were covered in the night tide beneath the fully wrought moon. The moon shined down through a bit of open clouds, sending his silver light, reflecting it off the ever moving seas and the silver lamps marking the entrance to the home and hall of Celeborn and Galadriel. He was admitted to a large room covered in tapestries, where sat elves surrounding a minstrel having finished a song. Celebrin stood aside until the servant at the time whispered his arrival to the Silver Lord, resulting in a large grin and an applause for the minstrel and a final bidding away of all present, save his golden-crowned wife. Together they sat, looking at him, with friendly eyes, until they saw a look of anxiety on his face; Celeborn rose, yet before he said anything Celebrin bowed at his waist, saying in a forced formal tongue,
"My Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel, I thank you for welcoming me into you home."
"You have always been welcome Elornion, please there is no need for formality between us..."
Celeborn motioned for him to sit, yet Celebrin showed no signs of easing his tense form; anxiety crippled him from moving, and his words stuck to the back of his throat prompting a concerned Lord to ask,
"Is there something you wish to ask Elornion, for it seems something weighs heavily upon you now."
"I have come, my Lord, to ask that you and my Lady release me from your service and allow me to return to my home in Mithlond, where my kin have waited for me these past account of years."
Celeborn stood firm before the raven-haired elf before him, his face a mixture of shock, anger, and doubt. His eyes looked deep into Celebrin's, seeking the purpose for this action, questions swam in the hue of them, seeking answers to the unexpected. Celeborn, hiding a hurt heart at this news, spoke stoicly,
"You wish to leave us indefinatley Elornion? What action have we done that forces you to do so?"
"No action you have done my lord has made me make this choice...my heart yearns for home, that is all."
Galadriel spoke at this, as she walked to where the two elves stood, placing a gentle hand upon her husband's shoulder,
"Tathirilion, I know you have other duties to think of now in these times, and though I am saddened by your departure, it is what you must do...I release you from your faithful service to me, go and find what path is best for you."
She then whispered into the ear of her husband, in turning on her heel before leaving,
"My lord, the son of Elorn has served us well for many years, faithfully and without complaint, with no praise or thanks for his services..."
When she had left Celebrin looked down at the intricate marble carvings of the stone hall, where sea shell tiled the floor in a mosaic, bearing the symbol of Elu Thingol, a symbol that had become synonymous with the houses of Sindar everywhere, especially if they were related to the former king in some manner; of all people Celeborn had the right to have such a thing in his home. Yet now the Silver Lord looked at his servant before him, between anger and pain, before him he saw a youth whose company in journeying and diplomacy he had come to cherish; a youth whom he would have given the hand of his daughter freely, yet said nothing in all his years. Yet Celeborn also saw a torn spirit in a broken house, one who seldom did anything for himself, but did what he had to do, for duty or love selflessly. At last Celeborn broke the silence,
"Your father asked the same of me once before... before you were born, when his brother-in-friendship Cirdan was fighting the wars of the northern realm of Beleriand, and his havens of Brithombar and Eglarest were destroyed. This I gave him, with the full knowledge that he would never return; yet my heart hurt to see him go, with his wife, to the sea again- and he would not return when he was called, and there was strife between me and Cirdan, who by this time established his haven upon Avernien and the Island of Balar... You see, Elornion, your father would not, for any alligiance, return having seen the sea again, and having known what he had lost in marrying your mother. Yet Tathiril became pregnant with child, and wished that you be born within the borders of her home, rather than by the sea. And with much hesitation your father left the shores of Avernien, deciding it was safer for you to live within the Girdle, than risk his family to open attack. And so they braved the passage of the plains and the Girdle; yet they were waylayed by a group of swarthy men, under the guise of Edain, who attacked them and left them for dead in the midst of the Girdle itself, where the sorcery of Sauron met the Protection of Melian and the mists were friend to none. Your father being the stronger tried to find his way into Doriath again, searching for the path he was taught when he first arrived, yet to no avail... loss of blood and worry caused him to loose his wits. Beleg found them at long last, barely alive and brought them to me, where I brought them to health again. Your father's first words to me then, were an oath, an oath to ever serve me and my family, until the end of his days, if they were ever to come, and he pledged his posterity would do the same, till death take them and release them from my service. To this oath I have held you Elornion, yet I, of all, know that oaths are too dangerous, when strictly enforced, and have known you to be loyal to it, even when you were not by my side. Therefore, I give you leave, not of your service to me, but to go where you will, only that you return at times of great need. Do you agree to this Elornion?"
"I will never abandon my service to you my Lord, unless you release me yourself; you who have shown me nothing but kindness...I thank you."
Smiling at long last Celeborn took Celebrin and embraced him, bidding him a safe journey and a fond farewell for the time being. Leaving the hall Celebrin looked out into the sea, where the moon began to fall beneath the horizon, following the sun in their immortal dance, he sighed in weariness and touched the scar upon the right side of his cheek, he laughed a little, noticing the date of all this occurance...it was the same day as the one many years ago, when he arrived on the field of Eregion, and fought to the side of the Lord his family devoted their service to, till death released them from that service they cherished most in the world.