Chapter Five: Leisure

Lindir sat in the library, his harp cradled in his lap. He plucked out the melody once more, but then he reached that note. That one note he couldn't find! He touched different strings, letting out an erratic song, but he could not find that note. He didn't know why he was having such trouble lately with writing songs. He sighed. Perhaps he needed some inspiration. He began to play it again, and just as he reached that part, an arm clad in dark material shot out from behind him and plucked the right one.

Lindir looked up in surprise. Erestor stood behind him, smiling in a satisfied manner. "I got tired of hearing you play the same thing over and over," he said in his quiet voice.

Lindir shook his head and narrowed his eyes at the raven-haired advisor. "How did you know which note to use? I didn't know you were a musician."

"I'm not. I just guessed," Erestor said with a shrug.

Lindir turned in his chair and began to play again, when he realized that he didn't know which note to use next. He glanced behind him to see Erestor retreating into the rows of books. "Lord Erestor!" he called. "Would you mind guessing again?"


Glorfindel stalked past the door of the infirmary, startling Nathariel with the loud clicking of his boots.

She hurried to the door, brushing back loose strands of dark hair. "Is something wrong, Lord Glorfindel?" she called.

Glorfindel froze in place, his shoulders hunching up in annoyance. He spun around, his black cloak flaring around him, and cried, "Why is everyone so interested in what's wrong with me? Can't an Elf be grumpy because he didn't get a good night's sleep?"

Nathariel cowered in the doorway, clutching a roll of bandages to her chest defensively. "I'm quite sorry, my lord."

Glorfindel rubbed his eyes. "Aye, maiden. I should be apologizing. I am simply very tired. All the work around here…it's running me off my feet." He looked up at her as if he'd suddenly had an idea. "You're a healer, correct?"

"Why, yes, I am," Nathariel nodded.

"I would like you to do something for me," he said, grinning mischievously.

Something told her that whatever it was, it was going to be devious.

With Glorfindel, most things were.


Elrond sat in Celebrían's garden, willing the mallorn seed to sprout with his mind. He knew that these things took time, but he so wanted to give Celebrían something she didn't already have. And a mallorn tree would remind her of her home, Lóthlorien. The book that lay in his hands was being unjustly ignored, for it was a very interesting book, but Elrond found other things more worthy of his attention than a long, poetic history of Arda.

Celebrían shuffled up behind her husband. She made no noise, not wanting to disturb him, and she had said nothing of the seed. She wanted to wait until he told her and pretend to be surprised. Just because she'd ruined it for herself didn't mean she would ruin it for him. Finally, after watching him sit silently for a long time, she slipped her arms around his shoulders and bound him in a hug.

"Elrond, what are you doing out here all alone?" she asked, holding him tightly.

"Celebrían," he whispered with a smile. He took her hands, and together they gazed out over Imladris, content.


That afternoon, Celebrían was lying in the grass outside, her golden tresses and scarlet gown scattered over the emerald earth. She breathed in the scent of spring, of dew and raindrops, plants and growing things. A squirrel scurried past her, shooting up a tree like an arrow shaft.

"Lady Celebrían?"

She sat up abruptly, brushing herself off. Once again, she'd lowered her guard, forgetting to be proper. Her mother would have been furious. She looked up at Erestor. "Yes?"

"I was wondering, have you seen Lord Glorfindel?" the advisor asked, a look of worry etched onto his face. A worried look was even rarer than a smile with Erestor.

"No, I haven't," Celebrían said thoughtfully. She got to her feet. "Why?"

"He has duties to attend to," Erestor said simply.


Nathariel sat by one of the beds in the infirmary, her body tense, her eyes trained on the still form buried under the covers. Glorfindel had convinced her to pretend she'd found him unconscious in the hallway. She had supposedly taken him to care for him until he awakened. That way, he reasoned, he could get a good rest and recharge for his duties the next day. The problem was that Nathariel never lied, so she was very uncomfortable with the situation.

Glorfindel, on the other hand, was absolutely content, and had fallen asleep immediately. His back rose softly with his breathing, but she could see none of his face. He'd hidden himself in the sheets. A few golden braids poked out from underneath, much to Nathariel's anxious amusement.

Just then, to her horror, Celebrían and Erestor rushed in, looking ruffled and worried.

"Nathariel," Celebrían began seriously, "have you seen Glorfindel?"

Nathariel shook nervously. "Yes, I have…In fact, I – I mean – "

"Nathariel!" Erestor said, laying his hands on her shoulders. "What happened?"

"He's right here," the healer whispered nervously.

Erestor rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me. The let's-pretend-I-passed-out-so-I-can-get-out-of-work trick, isn't it?" he asked.

"How did you know?" Nathariel asked without thinking.

"He's done it before," Erestor said offhandedly.

Nathariel glared at the sleeping Vanya.

Celebrían just broke into hysterical laughter and staggered from the room.


Reviewer Responses:

swee-haret179: Me too:)

Kalayna: Thank you! I like fics about the lesser-known Elves, too. In most fics I read about Celebrían, it's about when she was captured and rescued by the twins. Erestor has a really wonderful story called Elves of the Third Age that depicts that time beautifully, as well as a wonderful Celebrían before. Sadly, I'll have to write that, too. That's the part I most dread writing. (hugs poor Celebrían)

Miss Piratess: Yes, he is! I don't like him in the movies, though.

anticipationnation: Thank you! This is how I always imagined him.

Zammy: That he is!

A/N: Thank you so much for reading this. Please review!