The halls of Imladris had changed, considerably, much of what was once foot trodden pathways became cobblestone and some were now covered by stone archways to cover travelers as they walked through the curtains of morning dew that fell often from the tall trees of the valley. More bridges connected other parts of this growing elvish city, passing over large rushing rivers that drowned out the sounds of the outside world, and all around stood regalia to a time long passed in the ages of the elves. Down corridors the walls were lined with banners that though tattered and worn stood in places of honor beside shields that glittered in the morning sun. The day dawned over the mountains of mist and lit the valley with the golden amber light racing down the edges of the mountain, reflected off the mists that rose into the sky and turned to clouds, having slept in that blessed vale.

Amid the sounds of the rushing river and the singing birds of Imladris, two companions walked over a stone bridge and stopped to watch a group of children playing in the river below, where the torrents of falling water formed a pool before rejoining the main body of water that flew toward Eriador and the Kingdoms of Men. They watched as these children bathed with their mothers, life seeming so present at this hour, not wreathed in past majesties, or set up as burgeoning memorials to thing gone by. There was a sense of remembrance in Imladris, but not dead or obsessed with the matter, merely a celebration of the life that grew upon the very feet of the mountain. Yet even amid this quiet glory the patter of lightly adorned feet interrupted their joined contemplation. The elf wore green and blue attire, yet simply dressed, the attire of a servant no doubt, and his voice was heavy with the scent of urgency, as he bid them to follow him to the House of the Master.

They walked this odd assortment of people, one stern and quick, behind him walked warily a figure careful to hide a pronounced limp and the leaning on a stave, and the last walking slowly taking in every piece of fine craftsmanship, allowing his fingers to feel every curve of carved wood as it flowed from the base of the floor to the wound beams of the roof. The regality of the main hall astounded Alphindil, the brightness of the hues that hung from the archways of large openings to balconies, making him say,

"He has really changed this place has he not? It is hardly familiar!"

"Yes...it is different."

His companion replied, in a tone similar to regret and doubt yet also filled with joy, his last memories of this land, beyond his of the wedding, were of a makeshift refugee camp, lined wall to wall with cots and wounded soldiers. The doors opened to reveal a wide yet shallow receiving room, something not quite expected from the two travelers as it leant to a more Sindar architecture of a house than of the opulent stone workings of the Noldor. Before them played two elf-children, both alike in form and countenance, not barely above the age of 100, yet their voices were different, one stronger the other fairer. Watching them stood a simply dressed elven lord, laughing as he tossed his braided hair away from his face, his hearty laugh saying,

"Elrohir, leave your brother be, you may be the younger but not by much."

The gentle cough of the servant gathered his attention and an exclamation of joy rang out from his mouth, as he left his quarreling youth to embrace his guests, having done so he beckoned them forth calling toward a passageway that was lit by the entrance of the morning light,

"Celebrian! They are here... Welcome to our home Masters Celebrin and Alphindil, it was a pity we could not receive you last night, but you know children."

"It was a long journey Lord Elrond, we were weary of our journey...we would not have been proper guests."

Alphindil seemed most at home amid all that had grown in the recent years, he answered questions and seemed less in pain here amid the mixed forms of Sindar and Noldor craftsmanship. Celebrin, however, was taken aback by the blatant mixing of such styles; it was as if years of cultural growth had been reduced to nothing, as if there was naught celebrated but the mixing of two histories, two cultures that seldom ever joined in friendship. Here in Imladris, where what once stood as a testament to the Sindar who founded it, now stood as a representation of an ideal, and ideal he never truly believed in, whether it was for his personal beliefs or his memories of his youth, it seemed unnatural. A musical voice entered his train of thought, and he looked up to see a familiar face, dressed in a white maternal gown, cradling a slender form in her arms, whose little arms reached out to touch her mother's braids. Celebrin smiled at this sight, seeing it as fitting, something that should have happened long ago, she was made for this moment, he thought to himself, seeing her silver hair twist this way and that, as a plaything for this small bundle of life that lay in her arms.

"Hello Celebrin, it is good to see you again."

"It is a joy to see you again Celebrian, and with someone new in your arms I see."

"Her name is Arwen...Would you like to hold her?"

Celebrin looked surprised as she handed him this small form wrapped in silver cloth, her dark raven hair shimmering like his own, her face reflecting the stars of the night sky, and her eyes...seeming so familiar as she stared up at him, forcing his eyes to well with tears and his voice to crack as he whispered,

"Luthien..."

Elrond smiled at this compliment to his daughter, as he returned from bringing his sons before their guests; the youths who bowed before these strangers, looked perplexed as to why one dark stranger held their youngest sister so tenderly, and the other leaned heavily upon a stave, something uncommon to what have ever seen. Elrond introduced them before his guests as their mother beamed with joy at seeing her former brothers again,

"Honored guests these are my sons, Elladan and Elrohir...boys these are Celebrin and Alphindil, they served along side me, in the Great War...without them much would have been lost."

"You flatter us Lord Elrond, we may be guests in your house, but we are still not worthy of such praise."

"Nonsense, your legend is as strong here as it is east of the Mountains Alphindil. My children have heard of you..."

As the two talked Celebrian led her raven haired companion to a farther corner of the small reception room, smiling at how tenderly he held the child in his arms, chuckling she said,

"You hold her as if you were holding glass..."

"She is most precious Celebrian, in her I see your spirit"

"She has the spirit of her father, and the eyes I am told of a Sindar...she hardly looks like me..."

"Pardon me, but something so beautiful could not have solely come from him."

The two laughed at this simple jest, the long years of separation melting away like snow upon the hillsides at the coming of spring. The remainders of those days were spent in the company of friends, telling stories of Greenwood and Lorinand, and of the coasts to the south. And to their guest the Lord and Lady of Imladris told of many things, of the kings of Eriador, and the growing evil in the north, yet also of the news coming from Mithlond, and of little matters as the building of Imladris. Days passed into weeks and even when the season of summer began to turn old and fall returned to the trees surrounding the valley the companions remained, allowing themselves to loose track of time, it being irrelevant then as it seemed.

The idle hands of Celebrin began to build again, instructing the peoples of Imladris in the art of making talans upon the limbs of the trees, though they found it too much of an "eastern idea". And Alphindil spent time among the jewelers and silversmiths crafting this and that, forcing himself to work among his trade again, something he had not done in long periods of time, even by the shores of Balar he did not force himself as sternly. And at nights as he would return from his labor he would be too tired to return to bed and too engrossed in pain to sleep, requiring the aid of his friend to help him do both. And his skill with one hand began to improve, yet at a price, for every time he worked harder his left arm would surge with a spasm, the only feeling at the time, and he would spend days nursing the pain until it became numb again. Yet happy were those days they spent until autumn became winter and the bitter cold covered the stone workings in white snow, and little Arwen learned to walk haltingly, as she laughed and danced with her mother as her mother's companion played a white opal and shell flute to a joyful tune. And winter passed as new stars rolled over the sky, and the fire in a grand hall, that once was a hospital, burned greater than it ever had as its warmth entered the halls of the great House of Elrond.

And winter gave way to early spring and cries were heard in an isolated room, calling out the names of persons lost and of pain in the dark. And Celebrin would go to his weeping friend and calm him by singing a lullaby, as he had done centuries ago when the one he held in his arms now was but a few years younger than he and weeping for parents lost to war and battle. And spring came with fresh leaves upon the flowering trees, and a new moon gave little light to the sky filled with stars, as a packed Thingalad stood before the entrance to Imladris and four elves stood beneath the star-lit sky. Celebrin held a sleeping child in her arms, as she embraced Celebrin saying,

"I am happy to see you smile again gwador, visit when you can."

"We will gwathel, we will..."

And farewells were said yet from the twists of his coat Alphindil brought forth two richly carved wooden swords and gave them to Elrond saying,

"Give these to your sons Lord Elrond, when they are ready, tell them they are from a friend and much love was placed into them."

"Thank you Master Alphindil, they are most beautiful."

Then turning to Celebrin he took from his coat pocket a small bundle of cloth and gave it to Celebrin, who then, from the wad of cloth, procured a beautiful gem upon a silver chain, made of mithril, pearl and silver, in the form of a star and a swan at the same time. He then gave it into her hands saying,

"This is a gift from me and Alphindil, for the Evenstar of our people in this age, may it be a symbol of the light she bears into this new era, where we are but remnants of the past that led to her glorious birth."

In the presence of the child the gem began to shimmer within the starlight, and came to rest amid the gathered cloths shining like Earendil had at the rising of the Valar, bringing hope to the lost and forsaken. And the two companions turned upon their trail, finding their way west, crossing through the lands of Eriador at night, wishing not to draw attention to themselves from the eyes of the mortals.