Chapter
Four
To Lórien
Something or someone was shaking her. Celebrían groaned, shaking her head. "Not yet," she murmured. "It is not my time yet."
She was walking in a glade where the silver light of the trees shone upon her. Arien had not yet came over the horizon. A soft glow filled the forest. "Lórien," Celebrían whispered softly. She could hear the sweet sound of Nimrodel dancing along the riverbank. The mallorn trees were in full bloom, for it was summer. Lórien…voices echoed in her dream. To there she must go.
Opening her eyes, Celebrían uttered, "Lórien."
Elrond looked at her closely, his eyebrows knitted in worry. "What, darling?"
"Lórien. I must go to Lórien," Celebrían said more firmly, struggling upwards. She balanced herself against the back of the bed, looking Elrond in the eye. Elrond bit his lip, holding back something. Celebrían could see the internal struggle in him. She knew that he wanted her by his side, to be with her. But he also knew that he wanted her to be happy. "Meleth nín, I am afraid that as long as I remain in Imladris, I will not be happy. I must go to Lórien and see my mother and father. Do not fret, melethron." She pushed herself upwards, moving closer to Elrond. Her trembling fingertips inched forward, clasping firmly against his arm.
As he grasped her hand, Celebrían fell back against the back. "Alas, I fear that I am wearied. Let me sleep." She closed her eyes and fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.
Elrond sighed, and whispered, "Sleep well, melethril nín."
Elladan and Elrohir exchanged glances, before walking forward. "Ada," Elladan began, "Is nana really going back to Lórien?"
Elrond blinked as if he did not quite understand what his son had said. After a moment's silence, he nodded gravely. "I do not know what plagues your mother, but I want the best for her."
Elrohir nodded. He had grown out of his childish, rather flabby stage and was now of a stature as majestic and stern as his brother. "I agree."
Arwen glided over. She too, had matured into an elf-maiden whose beauty was said to rival that of Lúthien. "Ada," she said quietly.
"Yes, Arwen?" Elrond prompted.
"May I be permitted to go with nana on this journey?"
"Yes, Ada, may we accompany nana as well?" Elladan and Elrohir chimed in, looking for a moment eager.
Elrond shook his head. "Nay. This journey is for your nana alone."
"But surely you don't mean—" Elrohir interrupted, alarmed.
Elrond held up a hand for silence. "I will make sure your nana has the best escort we can provide her. But you three will remain in Imladris with myself."
"Ada," Arwen protested.
"No." With this, Elrond sent them all the sternest look he could muster. They backed down and with a bow exited the chamber one by one.
Elrond leaned over Celebrían, smoothed her hair from her face, and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead. " Le melithon anuir, my Celebrían." With one last look at his wife, Elrond also left the room.
The night passed slowly. Early the next dawn, Celebrían rose from her bed. The ages had passed so swiftly that she could barely remember the days of yore. Tracing the symbols on the wall, she was still amazed that it was pass two thousand years into the Third Age. Something in her told her that soon the ages of the Eldar would pass. The age of Men would come. But that age had not yet come.
Celebrían took one last look at her bedchamber. It would be many long years before she returned. Stepping onto the balcony, Celebrían swept aside her skirts and sat down on the bench. The beautifully carved bench that Elrond had made especially for them, for when they would sit outside watching the Sun rise and set. Celebrían sighed, something that she had been doing far too often. She would miss the days she and Elrond spent together.
Celebrían allowed one glistening tear to slide down her cheek. The streaks of gold that flashed through the sky contrasted sharply with how she felt. A heavy weight was lifting from her heart, only to be replaced with another one. Sadness. She had watched her sons and daughter grow up, but she was unable to play with them as often as she'd like. They had always treated her like a delicate doll, one that was beautiful and admired by all, but not often taken down and loved as much as others.
Perhaps that was all she was good for. To be looked upon at a distance. Celebrían shook her head fiercely. No. She would not succumb to such horrible thoughts. She was loved. It was just not her wont to be as active in the doings of Imladris as she would have liked. She placed a hand to her neck, feeling the reassuring shape of the Elessar. The elf-stone. The heirloom passed on by her mother.
A sudden knock at the door made Celebrían start. Turning around, she had to take a moment to steady herself before finding her voice and saying in a wavering voice, "Come in."
The door creaked open slowly, and she saw Elrond enter. His mien was grave as he approached her, arms out. She immediately dove into his arms. Words failed her as she buried his face into him and sobbed, soaking his robes. There was nothing either of them could say. All he did was stroke her hair gently. They remained there for a long while, until Elladan poked his head into the room. "Ada? Nana? It is time."
Celebrían looked up into Elrond's eyes. He nodded and pushed her gently towards her son. Looking back over her shoulder, she smiled weakly, her eyes sparkling and full of unshod tears.
Elrond could not bear to look. He turned his head the other way, looking into the sky. "May Elbereth protect you," he murmured softly towards the noonday sun.
I love you
