A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Radgastthebrown, who is, sadly, very ill at the moment. I extend my fondest sympathies to him, and pray for a speedy recovery.
Chapter Fifty-Six: Courtship and Concerns
Elrond I smiled. "How much I can tell you depends on how much time we have until they arrive, which is… what is it?"
"Two weeks," Elrond II replied at once. Then, catching his godfather's inquisitive frown, he added, "I memorized the letter."
Elrond I grinned as an ironic memory suddenly washed over him. "You learnt quickly."
The younger half-elf nodded. "I tried."
"Very good. That will be plenty of time for me to give you some advice about the strange and subtle art of courtship."
But Elrond II still had some doubts. "What if I foul up? What if she doesn't feel the same way about me? How will that affect things?"
"If it's meant to be, it will happen as it should," Elrond I reassured himself.
"But what if it doesn't?" Elrond II continued, his voice steadily increasing in pitch as his anxiety heightened. "What if… what if she mistakes you for me, and starts falling in love with you instead?"
His godson did have a point there, Elrond I mused. "That would be a problem in the long run…"
"And," Elrond II continued in an unnaturally high voice, "how are we going to explain to her about us? Galadriel only knows because she was accidentally dragged into your head. What will we tell Celebrían? Should we even tell her?"
"Just calm down a bit, lad," said Elrond I, laying a hand on his other half's shoulder. "We can cross that bridge when it comes. For now, let's get started with that advice…"
----
"You seem to know just how to approach Celebrían very well already," Elrond I told his godson good-naturedly as they strolled down Imladris' sunlit halls, "and you two have a lot of common interests. You can expand on those easily; get her talking about something that both of you like – flowers, for instance – and maybe take her for a walk through the gardens by starlight. Or, you could give her a flower as a gift. Since she knows you don't like harming flowers, I strongly suggest you transplant it rather than pick it."
"Good idea," Elrond II nodded, his eyes growing dreamy. "I'll find her the most beautiful rose in the valley."
"Perfect. Most women adore roses anyway."
"Then what?" the younger elf asked.
"Well, relationships are like flowers – they take time to blossom," Elrond I replied. "Give her some of that; if she wants to be alone, then you should respect her. And above all, be chaste. There are a great deal of horrible people in the world who would want Celebrían for nothing more than a night of pleasure, or just to ravish her. You are not one of those people. Your love is true: you must prove to her that it is, and always will be."
"Yes," said Elrond II softly and solemnly. "I'll remember."
His godfather clapped him on the shoulder. "Then I think you're ready."
----
The fortnight soared by, and the expected trio from Lothlórien arrived in the middle of a ferocious midday rainstorm. They were eager to get into Imladris as soon as possible, for the sake of themselves and their horses.
"Lovely weather we have here, don't you agree?" Elrond I said to Galadriel as he helped her down from her steed; his sarcasm was lucidly obvious.
The lady of Lothlórien laughed dryly (in a completely metaphorical sense), answering in the same tone. "Indeed, it is most idyllic."
"Well, with any good luck, things will be a little drier tomorrow," Elrond II put in, raising his voice to be heard above a booming thunderclap. "Ow!" he yelped abruptly, as a small but stinging hailstone collided painfully with the end of his nose, followed soon after by a much larger one. "We should hurry!"
They finally made it into the haven, just as the storm reached the height of its wrath. Rain and hail pelted the roofs, sounding like a constant drumroll above their heads. Luckily for the elves of Rivendell and Lothlórien, they were all safe and sound inside, cheered up and warmed up by merry laughter and roaring fires (the latter was helped along by Elrond I).
"Well, we all made it here safely," said Celeborn to Elrond II, "and I thank you for your kind hospitality."
"You and your kin are most welcome, my lord," the young half-elf replied graciously. "It is a great honor to have you among us."
"I am honored to be here," the silver-haired lord smiled.
Nearby, Elrond I and Galadriel were also absorbed deep in discussion. The golden-haired lady kept her voice hushed as she said, "Celebrían tells me that she has fallen in love with your godson."
The half-elf beamed. "Elrond the Second told me much the same thing two weeks ago."
Galadriel smiled calmly. "I expect he will desire to court her."
"He plans to start soon," Elrond I informed her, glancing discreetly over to his other half. "I think he'll want to give her a chance to settle in first."
"And once she is?"
Elrond sat back a little, smiling secretively. "He'll probably take her for late-night walks in the gardens, and give her flowers and so forth." He chuckled. "I don't imagine he'll be sleeping much."
Galadriel laughed. "The same might hold true for Celebrían. But no doubt, they can count on sweet dreams when they do sleep."
"Lord Lórien does cater to lovers," the half-elf nodded.
The lady of Lothlórien's eyes became a little cloudy. "Well, you would know more about that than I would, wouldn't you?"
Elrond I nodded mutely. But as he met his companion's gaze, a peculiar shudder coursed through him, and darkness flared for a moment before his eyes. He put his hand up to his head, noticing that Galadriel was doing the same.
What was that? she asked him telepathically.
He shook his head in confusion. I'm not sure, but I'm willing to bet that it was nothing good.
Galadriel was still and hushed, staring down at her right hand, where Nenya, the Ring of Water, glittered in the firelight. Elrond I looked to his own ring, and saw Narya sparkling oddly. He knew that the Rings of Power were connected somehow, but this was bizarre… why had the room gone dark for a moment, just before then? Would it happen again?
He was not disappointed. Almost before the thought had congealed in his mind, a second wave of shadow overwhelmed them, accompanied by odd lightheadedness. Elrond stared around him, trying to see… were they the only ones affected, he and Galadriel? And what in Arda was happening?
This time the blackness was deeper, thicker… it seeped into their skin, into their minds… they both felt as though they were plunging into an endless abyss… they tried to cry out, but heard not a sound, until the black fiend, Unconsciousness, claimed them at last for his own.
----
"What happened?"
"They both fainted, right at the same time… no-one knows why…"
"Will they be all right?"
"I'm sure they're both fine… look, they're coming to already…"
Elrond I gave a moan as his senses came back to him. Hearing was the first one to arrive, followed in quite an orderly manner by Touch, Smell, Taste and finally Sight. The last of the five was incredibly disinclined, but it trudged along slowly after all the others. Elrond blinked, meeting the anxious eyes of the half-dozen healers who were standing over him.
"Thank the Valar," sighed a young elleth. "You gave us all quite a scare, my lord."
"Is Galadriel…?" the half-elf managed to whisper.
"I am fine," replied a voice to his left. Elrond I turned to see the lady of Lothlórien sitting up in a bed next to the one he lay in, a rather frightened look on her pale face. She spoke urgently into his mind: We must discover the reason behind this. Has anything similar happened to you before?
No, he told her despairingly. I'm just as confused as you are.
Galadriel nodded, casting a worried look to someone standing on the half-elf's other side. Elrond I followed her gaze, sighing in relief when he saw his godson there.
"Thank goodness you're both all right," Elrond II said softly and quite shakily. "We were all worried about the two of you."
"Well, whatever it was seems to have passed on," Elrond I told him, attempting to smile reassuringly. But he could tell his younger half wasn't even slightly convinced, and he let his face fall.
We need to speak to Lord Mandos, Elrond I told his other self urgently. Nothing good can have come from this, mark my words.
Elrond II nodded in silence. The same thought had been clamoring in his own mind, but for more reasons than one. The fainting spells were certainly inexplicable and potentially evil, but there was one more thing to consider…why, if the blackness had come from the source he imagined, had the younger elf not been affected at all? Weren't he and Elrond I connected in that way?
Weren't they?
----
The rest of the day passed far too slowly for Elrond I's taste. He wouldn't meet the eyes of anyone he passed in the corridors, with the exception of Galadriel, Celeborn, Celebrían and his younger half. He stared either at the floor or at Narya, adrift and floundering in a sea of confusion. If he and Galadriel had been affected, being the Ring-keepers that they were, would Maglor have been as well?
A brief conversation with Mandos cleared him of all doubt, but increased his fears. It was not only the keepers of the Rings of Fire and Water who had been subject to the darkness, but also Maglor, who bore the Ring of Air. According to the Doomsman, the lord of the Grey Havens was already preparing to leave for Rivendell.
Elrond I hoped he would get here quickly; he wanted all three Ring-keepers together for a council as soon as possible. For the meantime, the elder half-elf was determined to ensure that life would continue on as normal. He exchanged words with Elrond II, who resolved to begin his attempt to court Celebrían the next evening. His godfather wished him well, and smiled for the first time in quite a while.
----
The next day ambled by, and the sun emerged from the East, rose to her zenith and fell in the direction of the West horizon. As they had many months ago in Lothlórien, Elrond II and Celebrían wandered through the gardens of Imladris by the silvery light of the night's guardians: the round orb of the full moon, and Varda's children, the stars, not the least of whom was Eärendil.
The silver-haired maiden walked hand-in-hand with her companion, who held in his other hand a small earthenware pot, which held a single, gorgeous white rose. Elrond II hid this slyly behind his back, so that Celebrían wouldn't see it for the moment. He would show it to her when the time was right.
"These gardens are beautiful," Celebrían sighed, gazing about her in quiet awe. Blossoms that were of every hue by day, were all rendered silvery-white in the moonlight. Droplets of dew shimmered like tiny pearls on the silk and satin petals. The flowers stood in rows, looking for all the world like so many elegant young brides, waiting for their grooms at a mass wedding ceremony.
Elrond II nodded serenely. "Beautiful, like you."
Celebrían blushed furiously, turning away. "Oh, be quiet, you silver-tongued scoundrel!"
"Why, my silver-haired princess?" the half-elf smiled, subtly releasing her hand, folding his arm about her waist and staring into her face. "One would think you didn't appreciate hearing the truth."
"You're lucky my parents like you," she told him, a mischievous glint entering her eyes.
Elrond raised an eyebrow, not moving his hand. "Hmm?"
She laughed suddenly, filling the air with echoes of music, and turned her gaze down to a dew-laced blossom by her left foot. She stooped down a little, bringing her face close to it and inhaling its perfume with a soft, contented sigh.
Elrond II saw his moment. He bent to her level, holding the potted rose beneath her nose. She glanced at him, her eyes dancing, and took the pot in her own hands.
"I'd never pick a flower," the half-elf told her. "Why stop its life, when you can preserve it just as easily? A potted flower takes up only a little more space than one in a vase, and it lasts much longer." He nodded to the pale blossom and added, "Take a little of Imladris home with you."
Celebrían smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Elrond. I'll think of you whenever I look at it."
She reached up to her head, and brought her hand down again holding a few long, silver threads of her own hair. She pressed them into Elrond's hand, and he tucked them into his robe's breast pocket. "Thank you, Celebrían. I'll treasure this little piece of Lothlórien."
He slid his other arm around her, pulling her close to him. He leaned slowly in toward her face, pausing just before their lips could meet, when Celebrían spoke.
"Elrond the Second," she said softly, staring up into his eyes, "am I right in guessing that you are trying to court me?"
He smiled, turning his head a little to whisper in her ear. "Yes, Celebrían of Lothlórien, I am."