Chapter Eight

A/N: Another quick update! I needed that little vacation, I tell you. A week at my grandparents' house was most welcome. I felt the need to write about my Elves. By now, this has pretty much become a series of vignettes. There's not really a plot. Oh, well. I like it, anyhow. I'm sorry I'm skipping ahead so far (the summer's gone, now), but I didn't really feel like writing that right now. And I figured out how to write "Celebrían" with the little accent over the "i"!


Autumn had swept its gold and scarlet cloak over Rivendell, dyeing the treetops colors that made them seem aflame with bright splashes of red and orange. The wind was chillier, a sharp edge to it, and now that the haze of summer was gone, the stars of Varda Elentári glittered brightly in the crisp sky as the Elves gathered each night in the Hall of Fire.

The Elves themselves were different now, as well. Lindir's musical abilities had returned to him, and each night melodies poured from his harp strings. Erestor wasn't nearly so shy; he talked to everyone. Nathariel was more outgoing, and the other Elves were astonished when they found out her artistic skills (courtesy of Glorfindel). Glorfindel had managed to become even more of a free spirit, and still made myriad attempts to get out of work, which Erestor dashed immediately. Elrond wasn't so awkward anymore.

The biggest change, however, had to do with Celebrían.

She was with child.

She laid in the gardens, clad in a forest-green cloak, her fingers resting gently on the tiny mallorn. It had sprouted in the early summer. She smiled as she recalled a memory from that time.

Elrond pulled the harp from Celebrían's hands. "Come, meleth-nin!" he grinned, taking her now-empty hands and dragging her to her feet.

"What is it?" she giggled.

"I'm not saying."

Celebrían threw Lindir a grin as her husband pulled her from the room. The dark-haired harpist just gave her a mixed look of confusion and amusement.

"Close your eyes," Elrond smiled, leading her outside. She knew it was the tree, but she didn't say anything. She closed her eyes.

"Well?" he asked when she opened them.

"Oh, Elrond," she breathed. The gratitude was genuine. "Thank you."

He said nothing, pulling her into a hug that said everything.

"Celebrían?"

The Lady of Imladris looked up. Elrond stood beside her. She started to get up, but he stopped her with a gesture. Instead, she laughed and sat up, her knees tucked against her chest. Elrond immediately threw off proper behavior and flopped down beside of her, pulling her against him. She leaned her head on his shoulder and sighed.

"I love you, Elrond," she said contentedly.

"I love you, too," the Elf Lord replied, his cheek against her wavy hair.

The world seemed so small at that moment, as if they were the only beings in it, and they savored the quiet time, ignoring the busy world around them.


Erestor, on the other hand, wasn't having such a good time.

"Where are those blasted reports?" he exploded, shuffling desperately through the piles of paper on his desk.

"Temper, temper," Glorfindel scolded, going through the advisor's cluttered bookshelves. "They're here somewhere. And you'd better not say 'blasted' around Nathariel."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Erestor retorted. "I wouldn't say that in front of her. And these reports aren't something to be taken lightly!"

Glorfindel looked at him, an eyebrow cocked sardonically. "Erestor, they're lists of Imladris' medical and food supplies. I hardly think that's something to get so worked up about."

"They took two months to compile! I put into them too much time and care to forget about them, just because you say so! I'm not going to write them out again! Why don't you try being an advisor, huh, Sir Goldtress? Always waltzing about, flinging your cloak in all directions, acting like an Elfling! If you had as much work as me, you'd be – what are those?"

"Your reports," Glorfindel grinned, waving a sheaf of papers around in front of Erestor.

Erestor took the papers from him and cleared his throat, trying to look dignified. "Yes. Thank you, Glorfindel."

Glorfindel laughed and brushed aside a tangled bit of hair. "You're welcome, mellon-nin."


A/N: Elvish translations-

Meleth-nin: my love

Mellon-nin: my friend

Reviewer Responses:

Ithiliel Silverquill: Yay! You're not a lurker anymore! (hugs) I'm glad you like it, and the plot bunnies struck again!

Miss Piratess: Glad it amused you!

swee-haret179: Thank you, and yes, I'll let you know when it's done.

Erestor: Wow! I'm so happy that you've read it! (hugs some more) Thank you for putting it on your fav. list! Yes, I believe Glorfindel would normally be an amusing character, and I agree about him and Celebrían getting along well. One of my favorite chapters in EotTA is Fading Gold, even though it's really sad. Glorfy, the melodramatic. (giggles) I really enjoy writing Nathariel, so I'm pleased that you like her. No, I don't have an agent, but I have found a publisher that I plan to send the manuscript to, if they accept it. I have to send a synopsis and the first three chapters, and then if they want the rest, they'll let me know. It's a fairly small company, but everyone starts small! As for Erestor, I prefer him alive, as well. :)

Malara: Ah, too many ANFoT elements in there! What's with the monkeys? XD Just joking. And I'm really glad you like it this much. No, Nathariel will deliver the twins. :D

anticipationnation: Yes, he is a sweet nuisance.

Ellfine: Glad you're back! I adore Glorfindel.

Neige: Ah, Glorfy knows 'Stor likes him! Erestor just won't admit it!

Kalayna: Yes, darn writer's block! Curse it to the fires of Mount Doom! XD What instrument do you play?

A/N: Wow, 55 reviews! Thank you everyone!