Chapter Three : A Touchy Situation
A/N: My little sister Arwen helped me out a lot with this chapter! (hugs Arwen) Luv ya, sis!
"That was quite a night," Glorfindel remarked, sipping from his teacup.
Celebrían nodded from across the table, tucking a stray strand of gold behind her ear. "It surely was."
Glorfindel's eyes danced with laughter. "I was watching you and Lord Elrond. He seemed very taken with your appearance."
Celebrían looked up at him in surprise. "He was?"
"My lady, as experienced as you seem with people, you are most out of tune with your husband's expressions," he replied. "I, having known him for a long while, could easily tell that he was surprised."
Celebrían smiled. "I have much to learn, I suppose." She studied the Elf-Lord a moment. He sat across from her at a table in the sunny library, staring out the window with a calm, contented expression on his face. She finally ventured to ask something that had been bothering her. "Glorfindel, are you the legendary Balrog-slayer of Gondolin?"
Glorfindel turned to her abruptly, a stunned and pained look in his eyes. "What makes you ask that, Lady?"
Celebrían was startled herself. "I simply wondered. Elves don't usually share names."
Glorfindel's eyes fell to his teacup, and he seemed to be gravely scrutinizing the dark liquid inside. Celebrían was suddenly uncomfortable, something she'd never felt in his company. She realized that perhaps she shouldn't have asked. She was about to apologize when he looked up at her, his face suddenly much softer, much more vulnerable. "Yes," he whispered. "Yes, I am."
There was a very heavy silence between them.
"I'm sorry, Glorfindel," Celebrían said after a moment. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have asked."
"No," Glorfindel told her, shaking his head. "You did nothing wrong. It's just…sometimes…"
Celebrían looked down at her hands. She wasn't used to making people do things like this. Usually, she could say the right thing to anyone, but there was something different this time.
"I was born in Gondolin," Glorfindel continued. "I lived there happily…Then, Morgoth…everything was destroyed…the Balrog…" He shook his head, laughing bitterly. Celebrían jumped at the rough sound. "I'm sure you know the story of me and the Balrog." He looked up at her questioningly.
"I do," she replied.
Glorfindel nodded and looked down at the table, one hand tracing delicate patterns on its surface, the other supporting his head. "I lost so much there. Tuor, Idril, Ecthelion…" His eyebrows furrowed. "We were great friends, Ecthelion and I. After I made it to Mandos' Halls, I was returned to Valinor for a short time, then sent here to guard Elrond. He's the descendent of Gondolin's king, you know."
Suddenly, he clenched his hand, his expression hardened. "I miss it so much." He fell silent again, memories engulfing his mind. "I sometimes weep for them, Celebrían. I sometimes weep."
Celebrían was completely thrown off. He had called her by her name, rather than "lady". She suddenly realized the impact of what he was saying. She felt torn between leaving him to his thoughts and comforting him. She chose the latter. With a sudden surge of sympathy, she reached across the table and took his hand. He looked up at her hastily. "Glorfindel, it's in the past…" she said, wishing she knew what to say to him.
Glorfindel suddenly snatched his hand back and stood, his face turned away from her. "Yes. It is." He bowed his head, still not looking at her, and said, "Excuse me, lady. I shall see you later." Before she could say anything else, he was gone.
Celebrían stared at the doorway through which he'd left. She could have kicked herself. She never messed up with others. What had happened?
That afternoon, Celebrían sat in her garden, digging fervently in the soil. It was the only way she could release her anger without hurting something. She hadn't been able to find Glorfindel after their "conversation", and now she felt horribly guilty. She pushed the dirt around the roots of a small shrub, patting it down firmly. She moved to another spot, and to her surprise, it looked like it had already been planted on. She didn't remember ever using that spot, so she dug gently in the area.
After a few trowelfuls of soil, she unearthed a small seed. Under some examination, she saw that it was a mallorn seed. "How…?" she trailed off under her breath, remembering how Elrond had smelled the night before. She had a lavender bush in her garden.
Elrond had planted the seed.
She carefully replaced it and flattened the ground over it. As she sat back on her heels, something snapped in her soul. She simply lay down and began to cry.
Nathariel was headed down the paths outside the Last Homely House on her daily walk. There was no healing work to be done, and she was very satisfied with the party the night before. She and Erestor had had a nice time, simply talking and watching everyone else dance and sing. Neither had felt like doing those things. She and the quiet advisor were becoming fast friends.
As she walked under the trees, she heard a curious sound. She realized someone was crying, and she picked up her pace, trying to find whoever it was. She was fairly shocked when she came upon the Lady Celebrían lying in her garden, weeping heartbrokenly.
"Lady?" she called, kneeling by the Elf-woman. Celebrían didn't acknowledge her. "My lady, what's wrong?"
Celebrían sat up and looked at her. Nathariel thought that the Lady of Rivendell would just tell her she was fine, so she was bewildered when she found herself holding Celebrían, rocking back and forth as Elrond's wife sobbed into her shoulder.
"My lady, whatever's wrong?" asked the soft-spoken healer.
"I did something terrible!" Celebrían cried, her voice muffled in Nathariel's robe.
"What?" Nathariel asked, even more confused than before. "What have you done?"
"Have you seen Lord Glorfindel?" Celebrían asked, looking up at Nathariel.
"No, not today," Nathariel said. "But what happened?"
"It's not important," Celebrían said, standing up. "I must go." She began to leave, but then she turned back to Nathariel. "Thank you," she said, wiping dirt streaks off her cheeks. "I hope to see you again soon."
"You're welcome, my lady," Nathariel answered, still wanting an explanation. "Good luck, whatever happened."
Reviewer Responses:
Randa-Chan: I'm glad! And yes, Erestor will come out of his box, and eventually the twins will be there. There's chapter three!
Miss Piratess: If you're thinking Erestor and Nathariel, you're wrong. I'm telling you all now that the only romance in this story will be between Elrond and Celebrian and Arwen and Aragorn later. Sorry to burst your bubble!
Malara: I appreciate your willingness to help, because mine's terrible! I liked the lavender thing. Thought it was sweet. And I really like lavender.
swee-haret179: Do you mean I'm descriptive? Thanks! Welcome in!
A/N: I know that this chapter was very reminiscent of my vignette "Tears of the Past", and I'm sorry for it. I'm just not too good at writing angst. And Nathariel is mine!
