Chapter Eleven
A/N: Thank you for all the positive reviews, everyone! I really appreciate that there are other people out there that agree with me.
Lindir and Celebrían sat in the Hall of Fire. She sang while he played, and they broke out into giggles every so often, though the song wasn't funny. After a bit, Celebrían got quiet and sat with her chin in her hands, a frown on her face.
Lindir stopped harping. "My lady, is something wrong?" he asked concernedly.
"I feel slightly ill," she said with a groan.
"Is it time?" Lindir asked, having no experience with pregnant Elf-women.
"No," she said quietly.
Lindir stood quickly. "I'll take you to the infirmary, anyway," he said, taking her hand and supporting her as she staggered to her feet. They began to make their way into the corridor when the Lady collapsed into a dead faint.
With a jolt of worry, Lindir gathered her up in his arms and ran in with her. "Help!" he cried. "The Lady has fainted!"
Several Elves came to his side and took her from his arms. He followed them, anxious and frightened.
Unfortunately, it was at that time that Elrond and Glorfindel decided to return.
"Next time we go to Greenwood, keep me from allowing Thranduil's children to borrow Asfaloth," Glorfindel was saying. "Young Prince Legolas nearly scared me to death, galloping off with the horse."
Elrond chuckled. "That I will do."
Glorfindel noticed the group of Elves hurrying down the corridor ahead of them. "What could be going on?" he asked curiously.
"I know not," Elrond said.
Without a word, they sprinted off down the hallway, catching up quickly. Glorfindel caught Lindir by the shoulder. "What happened?"
Lindir looked shaken and pale. "I know not. The Lady Celebrían and I were simply sitting in the Hall, and she said she felt ill, so I was taking her to the infirmary. As we started off, she passed out."
"But she can't be ready," Glorfindel said. "With Queen Idril, it took much longer. It doesn't make sense…" He broke off as Elrond slumped against him in a daze.
"That is what worried me," Lindir said, gazing down the hall as the Elves carried Celebrían into the infirmary. "She said that it wasn't time."
Glorfindel set Elrond on his feet and the three made their way down the hall. Celebrían was lying in on of the beds, the Elven healers hovering around her; those who'd brought her stood behind them.
"That will be all," Glorfindel said, shooing them out. "We appreciate your help, you may go about your business. The Lady will be fine, I assure you."
With much murmured protest, the Elves filed out of the room. Elrond knelt beside Celebrían's bed, brushing the golden strands of hair from her face. Lindir stood behind him, one hand on the Lord of Imladris' shoulder. Nathariel was standing on the other side of the bed, putting leaves of athelas into a bowl of steaming water.
"She will be fine, Lord Elrond," Nathariel said quietly, turning to his anxious face. "This is normal when a woman is with child."
Elrond said nothing, but gave the healer a soft smile of gratitude. Glorfindel came up behind Lindir. "We should leave," he whispered.
"But what about the Lady?" the harpist asked worriedly.
"She is in good hands," Glorfindel said, gazing fondly at Nathariel's back as she bustled about, gathering sheets from other beds. They gathered dust, for most of the time they weren't in use.
With one last glance at Elrond and his wife, Lindir nodded and walked out with Glorfindel.
After a bit, she soaked a cloth in the athelas-steeped water and gently sponged Celebrían's forehead with it. "She will be fine," she told Elrond, who despite her assurances, remained grim.
"I shouldn't have left," Elrond said.
"It is customary," Nathariel protested. "If you hadn't, King Thranduil may have taken offense."
"I know, but my wife is more important to me."
Nathariel laughed. "You are very devout, my lord."
"Why shouldn't I be?" Elrond asked, tearing his eyes from Celebrían to look at Nathariel.
"You should! I was praising you!" Nathariel said, laughing harder.
Then, Celebrían began to stir. "What is so amusing?" she asked dazedly.
"She's awakened!" Elrond cried.
"Of course I've awakened," Celebrían said, sounding irritated. "But what are you doing here? And where is Lindir?"
"She's perfectly all right," Nathariel said.
"I returned. Lindir left a while ago," Elrond said as his wife struggled into a sitting position. "Valar, you scared me!" he cried, wrapping her in a tight hug.
"I didn't mean to," she said.
"I'll send for Lindir," Nathariel smiled.
That night, Nathariel went down the hall, following the quiet sound of harp music. She opened the door to the library and saw Lindir sitting by the window. There were no candles lit, only the light of the moon and stars streaming their pale light into the room. She knew the song. It was a common lullaby, and she was surprised to hear him playing it. Simply because she remembered it, she began to sing.
The sparkling stars
Shine down on us
Like rain upon the trees
And the shining light
Of Eärendil
Glows bright along the seas.
The wind blows through
The forest, speaking of
A world of light,
And with me you shall
Always be, my child,
Through the night.
Lindir looked up at her in surprise. "I did not realize you were there."
"I tread quietly," Nathariel smiled.
"Would you like to sit?" he asked, standing up.
"Nay," she said, shaking her head. "I only came to thank you for being so concerned about Lady Celebrían."
"Thank you," he said, embarrassed. "She is a good friend of mine."
"I know," Nathariel replied, leaning against the doorframe. "You two are very familiar with one another. She is very kind, is she not?"
"That she is," Lindir nodded.
They were quiet for a bit. Finally, Nathariel broke the silence by saying, "I've always meant to tell you, but I never ventured to. You are a wonderful musician."
"Thank you."
"I think that you may even be better than Daeron was," she added.
"I doubt that," Lindir replied, blushing.
"I don't." Nathariel looked out at the snowy night for a moment, then said, "I should be going. I've interrupted you."
"No, you didn't," Lindir said quickly.
Nathariel smiled again. "You are very kind. I must straighten the infirmary. The Lady caused quite a stir!"
"Goodnight," Lindir called as she left.
"Goodnight!" she waved.
Notes: For any who haven't read The Silmarillion, Daeron was a minstrel in the court of King Elu Thingol (Elwë Singollo), the father of Luthien Tinuvíel. He betrayed Beren and Luthien twice, and was known as the greatest minstrel in the history of Arda (Middle-Earth).
Reviewer Responses:
Queen C: Thank you for the positive input andfor the compliments! Unfortunately, people here are misinformed, or are withheld information. I'm glad that you're so open-minded. There aren't many people like that anymore.
Neige: Thank you very much. I've been working on this novel for about a year and a half now, so I'm very relieved to be near the end. Thank you for the comments on the formatting, because my keyboard messes up a lot. (smacks keyboard) I'm sorry to hear about your family's experiences, but I'm glad to meet another pacifist! Thank you for putting this on your fav. list. Lots of hugs!
Erestor: Thank you. No, Celebrían thankfully has more sense than immature Elrond. (scolds Elrond) I enjoyed writing the fatherhood scene.
swee-haret179: I'm very glad that you like it. :) My novel? (points down) Look at the author's note!
Ithiliel Silverquill: Glad that you liked it. Yes, poor Elrond, all right. It's all hitting him at one time. I certainly hope that he doesn't have a nervous breakdown. (chuckles conspiratorially) Nah, don't worry. I won't hurt him. Yes, definitely supervision! Never let Glorfy watch a child unattended! About winter – completely agreed.
Malara: Celebrían? DIE? What are you talking about! I would never kill off Celebrían! She was bothered mentally by what happened with the Orcs, so she went to Valinor. Nice and safe. (huddles up in corner) Celebrían…doesn't…die…doesn't…die…
Miss Piratess: Thank you! (bows) Don't you just love snowballs? (giggle)
A/N: For anyone who wants to know, my novel starts out as a spoof of "Sleeping Beauty". It's not all humor, though there are various fairy tale characters spread through (Snow White, Rapunzel, Prince Charming, etc.). I wanted to write a version of "Sleeping Beauty" where a girl was the main character for once, and not just the damsel in distress. So I gave "Beauty" (whose name is Gwen) two sisters, one of which goes out to find the cure, as it's not true love's kiss. The wonderful (sarcasm there) fairy didn't tell them the cure. And I'm not telling, either. (evil cackling) Meanwhile, many, many people have been cursed and/or affected by this fairy in one way or another, and Princess Yuna (the sister) meets up with some of them. I also created my own race for the story, so there are various characters from that group, as well. Pretty much the usual fantasy story: dragons, swords, spells, castles, ancient wars, reunions, and curses, but I worked hard to make it original, too. I think I've succeeded.
I just realized what an extreme Tolkien freak I am. I can actually recite the entire chain of descendents of Finwë until they reach Eldarion, son of Aragorn and Arwen (excluding, however, the Kings of Numenor and Elros' bloodline). That's very, very sad. I'm like that in History class, too. (sigh)
