Chapter 45: Some Day
Third Age 1,241
(1,000 Years Later)
The forest of Lothlórien rose up in the distance. They would arrive at the wood by midday. Caladhel felt a tinge of sadness to find their journey had reached its end. She enjoyed the time together the road afforded her and Thranduil. More time than was possible in their day-to-day lives. They were not alone on the road, of course, traveling as they were with a company of elves, but they were granted solitude of a sort. Caladhel had abandoned her horse a few hours after departing Limrond and she spent the remainder of the journey riding behind Thranduil on his elk. They would ride ahead of the others most often to afford themselves a measure of privacy.
Once they arrived in Lórien, their peace would end. Caladhel would once again have to share her husband's attention, as he would hers. She mourned their impending loss. Thranduil, feeling likewise grieved at the sight of the mallorn trees, began to grumble.
"I still do not see the reason for this journey. Did we not visit with your kin in Lórien a mere six years past?"
"It is an important milestone in the life of an elf," Caladhel reminded him.
"I do not recall being dragged to Lórien when Celebrían's sons reached their thousandth year."
"She is their little girl," Caladhel chided.
"And hardly a child anymore to be doted over."
Thranduil's protests were spoken without fervor and Caladhel marked them for what they were – a habit of his nature. If the King of Greenwood truly wished to remain behind for Arwen's celebration, he could easily have done so. He chose otherwise, and without much coaxing on Caladhel's part. For despite his complaining, he had always been most fond of Arwen.
"Cease your grousing, or I shall give you cause to grumble." Caladhel's hands slid along his side. Her fingers danced lightly on the point where he was most ticklish.
"Stop now," Thranduil warned before she could set him to laughter, "or I will banish you to your own mount."
"You would punish no one but yourself." She slid her hands lower still and forward across his stomach to another favored spot. "Is that better?"
Thranduil's hands immediately came down to stay hers and he muttered some curse beneath his breath before declaring, "You will be the death of me."
Caladhel leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "It will be a pleasant end."
Thranduil had no doubt of that, but there was no time for such pleasantries in the miles remaining to them. He captured Caladhel's hands in his, entwining their fingers and drew her arms around him until he felt her body pressed close. He would give all he had to hold her thus forever, but the trees grew taller ahead.
"In earnest, you should call for your horse. We will be arriving shortly."
"Are you ashamed to be seen riding with me?"
"Hardly, but you will agree this is not the most regal of arrangements."
"Since when do you care to impress the elves of Lórien?"
"I care to impress no one. I care not to offend those tasked with welcoming our company."
Caladhel knew Thranduil's concern was not for the welcome party as a whole, but for one ellon in particular. "Haldir is not offended by our love."
"Nor does he rejoice in it."
"You are very considerate of him. Overly so, some might say."
"You think it possible to be overly considerate of a friend?"
"No. But I do think your concerns are unnecessary. It has been over a thousand years since we were wed. Had Haldir wished you an untimely end, he would have seen to it long before now."
"Indeed, I have no need to fear for my life, so long as I keep my promise to him."
Caladhel was unaware of any promise Thranduil had made to Haldir. It was the first she had heard him speak of it. "What promise?" she asked.
"That I would never hurt you again."
Caladhel knew how deeply it had pained Thranduil when she told him of her friend's fears, but she had not realized her husband had addressed the issue with Haldir.
"And if by chance you broke your promise?"
"I gave him leave to kill me."
Caladhel was not at all surprised by the tone of this bargain, but merely wondered if Thranduil grasped its gravity. "You know Haldir will take you at your word."
"I did not doubt it at the time."
Caladhel was unsure how to feel about this deal struck between two ellon whom she loved. She would not have either harm the other on her behalf, not for any cause. But if it were the condition necessary for peace and friendship to exist between them, then it was, perhaps, a bargain well struck.
Caladhel hugged Thranduil a little tighter and laid a kiss upon his cheek. And after, to please him, she called for her horse.
They were met by the Lórien company at the edge of the forest. As the Captain of Lórien's Guard, it was Haldir's duty to greet the King and Queen of Greenwood. It was always a bitter reunion for Caladhel, a reminder of Lord Thandaer's death in a border skirmish many years before. Haldir ascended to his father's position shortly thereafter and he took to his newfound authority well. But his father's death had changed Haldir. There was a wariness about him now that had not been there before, and he was less given to laughter, though few, other than his closest friends and kin, would note the difference.
The welcome was formal, as always, but afterward the company paused in their travels to greet old friends and rest their mounts. Caladhel greeted Haldir with a hug.
"How are you?" she asked.
"I have been better."
"How is that?" Thranduil asked.
"Celebrían's sons and my brothers are headache enough on their own. Together they are near intolerable."
Thranduil groaned. He, too, had dreaded the aligning of those four forces. "Can you not assign your brothers to the marches during our stay?"
"It had been my plan," Haldir admitted, "but my brothers acquired special dispensation from Lord Celeborn to attend Arwen's birthday celebration. They are competing in the tournament."
"Is there to be a tournament?" Caladhel asked.
Haldir was surprised by her question. He turned a curious gaze upon the King of Greenwood, who merely shrugged in response. "I am surprised to find you unaware, given that your king is competing."
Caladhel turned her attention to Thranduil whose expression was the perfect picture of innocence. "You are?"
"Your uncle mentioned the tournament in his letter. I thought I would join in an event."
"Which event?"
When Thranduil did not volunteer an answer immediately, Haldir answered for him. "He thinks to unseat me as champion of the stave."
Caladhel shook her head at her mate, unable to restrain her reproach. "I should have known you were up to something when it took not a day to convince you to come." Caladhel was not at all pleased by this news, as surely Thranduil had expected. "I hope you have been practicing," she snipped.
"Since my last defeat," Thranduil replied.
Haldir accepted the King's challenge with a nod of his head. "Lord Glorfindel is competing as well," he added.
Thranduil was no great admirer of this elf lord who claimed to be the great Balrog Slayer of old. "There should be a rule barring the reborn from competing," Thranduil declared. "And please tell me those wizards are not attending."
"Why?" Caladhel asked. "I happen to like Radagast."
"You would," her husband said before continuing on with his rant. "Where were the Valar when we went to war against Sauron? Sitting safe upon their mountain across the sea, no doubt. And they wait a thousand years after the battle is won to send their emissaries? For what purpose? Surely not to aid us."
Haldir made no effort to argue with Greenwood's king, for he agreed with his criticism whole-heartedly. "Mithrandir has come," said Haldir. "I have received no word from the others."
Thranduil was grateful for that small blessing, at least. He nodded to Haldir who bowed once more to the King and Queen of Greenwood.
"Until the tournament," said Haldir, before moving on to greet the other guests.
Caladhel returned her attention to Thranduil following Haldir's departure. "Is this contest truly necessary? Before all of Lórien?"
"You believe me incapable of defeating him?"
"I believe you quite capable. I also believe it unnecessary."
"He owes me a rematch," said Thranduil quite plainly. "And I am certain the crowd will enjoy the event."
"Were you not the one who mere hours ago worried to offend him?"
"I care not to offend his heart. His pride is another matter. I will stand triumphant in the ring."
Caladhel continued shaking her head until at last Thranduil clasped her face to still her. He kissed her forehead and she, annoyed, pushed him away, protesting with what little might she had.
"You are incorrigible," Caladhel declared, "and I shall place a wager on Glorfindel instead."
"If you wish to lose, my love, you may wager on any other ellon you choose."
It was early the following day when Caladhel joined her aunt and cousins to ready for the tournament. It was times like this she missed most when parted from her kin. Simple hours spent in her aunt's company with Celebrían singing or else flitting about the room tending to something or someone. The company had changed a bit with time, Arwen's addition being the most prominent. The ladies routinely doted over her, but today was even more special for the year it marked in Arwen's life.
Caladhel stood behind a chair where the younger elleth sat before a mirror. She ran a brush through Arwen's raven hair. Caladhel had, from the first, found the elleth's locks a marvel. She caught Arwen's eye in the glass.
"Tell me, child, what wish would you make on this momentous day?"
Arwen sat silent for a time, weighing the question thoroughly before she answered. "I would wish to meet my soul's companion and have us fall instantly in love."
"That would certainly be a change of pace for this family," Caladhel said.
"How so? Did you not fall in love with King Thranduil the moment you met him? Like Beren and Lúthien beneath the stars."
"Not in the slightest. I thought him wretched."
Arwen laughed lightly at Caladhel's words. She was certain her cousin felt differently about Thranduil now. "He is not quite so warm as Ada," Arwen conceded, "but he loves you, clearly."
"Clearly?"
"He only ever appears joyful when you are at his side."
"That much is true," Celebrían agreed.
"Thranduil is a reserved ellon. It is his way, though it does often make him appear cold to others. He certainly appeared that way to me when first we met."
Arwen was curious to hear her say so. She had always found her mother's cousin to be a warm and generous soul and had long wondered how two elves so unalike in nature could fall in love.
"If he was cold when you first met, however did you come to love him?"
"He loved me first, and in his pursuit of my love, he let me in. Close enough to know him truly. In time I came to love him as well."
Arwen listened, intrigued, and after wondered if it were not wise to reassess her notions of love.
"Have you any other wishes this day, my dove?" Celebrían asked, drawing her daughter out from her reverie.
Arwen pondered the question a second time, before catching Caladhel's gaze in the mirror. "I wish for a cousin," she said.
Arwen's words were as a blade to Caladhel's heart. It was all she could do to keep from falling apart beneath the elleth's hopeful gaze. "You shall have one some day. When we are ready."
"You mean when he is ready," a voice sounded from the terrace.
"Roewen," Galadriel snapped, calling the Greenwood warden to heel. Roewen herself appeared mortified for having spoken that thought aloud, both for its rudeness and for the pain it invoked in her queen's eyes.
Arwen, herself, was not blind or deaf to the turn their conversation had taken, nor could she blot out the sight of Caladhel's tears, though she knew not what she had said to cause such pain. Her mother's hand came to rest upon her arm, urging her to stand. Celebrían practically tossed her out the door.
"Why don't you run along, darling?" Celebrían said. "See that your father has taken your brothers in hand."
"Of course," Arwen said and she hurried away, feeling at once terrible for the trouble she caused.
Once Arwen was gone, Galadriel turned on Caladhel's guard. "Was that necessary?"
Roewen watched a tear fall from her queen's eye, wishing the Valar might strike her down here and now.
"I am sorry my lady, my queen. I… the words escaped me. I should not have said them."
"There is hardly a need to apologize," said Celebrían, who came unexpectedly to the warden's defense. "We were all thinking the same thing." And to Caladhel, she said, "You have been ready for centuries. I shant forgive him for denying our children the chance to grow up together."
Celebrían wiped a single, lonely tear from her cousin's cheek and drew her into a warm embrace. "I could give him a proper kick for you."
"I doubt that is likely to help," Caladhel said.
"Perhaps not," Celebrían said, "but it would make me feel ever so much better."
A great many ellyn from both Lórien and Imladris had chosen to participate in Arwen's birthday tournament. Elrohir joked that they did so to catch his sister's eye, and by Caladhel's estimation, he was not mistaken. There was a great deal of good-natured competition between the two realms. Each vying to capture the more titles that day. The seventh event, to name the Master of Staves, was held for last. Húlben, who thought a rematch between Lórien's captain and Greenwood's king to be the perfect climactic event, made the decision. The addition of the great Balrog Slayer to the final roster only made the contest more exciting.
Following the sixth event, Lórien and Imladris were tied with three champions a piece. The final event would decide the winner, or effect a tie, should the King of Greenwood prove the victor. Elladan and Elrohir led the chorus cheering Glorfindel, while Rumil and Orophin rallied for their brother. All four ellyn did their best to win Caladhel to their side, for each believed a wager for King Thranduil to be a wasted effort.
"Surely you would not throw a coin away on your husband, my lady," said Orophin. "Haldir defeated him once and that was before he spent a thousand years seated upon his throne."
"Of course she will not waste her coin," Elladan said. "She will wager on Glorfindel, as would anyone with a pinch of wit. He defeated a Balrog for Valar's sake. Haldir and Thranduil are clearly no match for him."
"Last I heard, he died fighting that Balrog," Rumil said. "I do not see how that should make him the top contender."
On their conversation went, back and forth and around again, each arguing with the others over the merits of their chosen champion.
"Well, cousin?" Elrohir prodded. "What be your decision?"
Caladhel felt a slight obligation to wager for Glorfindel, having threatened to do so the day before. But long experience told her that Thranduil would, indeed, prove the victor. Whenever he set his mind to a task, he rarely failed to accomplish it. She would not be surprised to find he had devoted extra effort these last thousand years to mastering the stave, in hopes he might one day reclaim the bit of pride he lost to Haldir.
"I think it best I wager on my king," said Caladhel. "I stand to lose little, and gain much, given the odds."
"Not to mention, should he lose, his mood is bound to be more tolerable so long as you believed in him," said Oropher.
"Now that is a prize well worth the price!" Elrohir exclaimed. "The last thing we need is for King Thranduil to be in an ill mood. I will lend you the coin for your wager, cousin." He drew a coin from his pocket and tossed it on the pile for her.
Caladhel thanked him with a nod. She fared the young ellyn well and left them to tally the wagers. Caladhel wound her way through the crowd, returning to the box she shared with the other ladies.
"Where were you?" asked Arwen upon her return.
"I had to place my wager."
"On Glorfindel, I hope," said Celebrían.
"Alas, your sons and I thought it best for all that I place the wager on Thranduil."
"Do you believe he will win?" Arwen asked.
"When my husband sets his mind to a task, he is seldom defeated. He would not have entered this contest were he not certain he could win."
"He was certain before he knew Glorfindel would be competing," said Celebrían. "He may not be quite so confident now."
While Thranduil was not pleased by word of Glorfindel's participation, he had not been overly concerned by it. Caladhel's gaze passed over the crowd and open field to where the competitors were gathering. She spied her husband among them, testing the weight and balance of the weapons provided. An ellon approached him. Caladhel recognized him from afar. Tall and blond he was, though not so tall or blond as Thranduil. He spoke to her husband at length and Caladhel could not help but wonder at the topic of their conversation.
"King Thranduil."
"Lord Glorfindel."
"I understand I have intruded on a historic event."
"Who told you that?"
"King Amroth, Elladan, Elrohir, Haldir's brothers… everyone really."
Thranduil was not surprised to hear this rematch had become the talk of the tournament, but nor would he make of it all that. "I would hardly call it historic. Merely a rematch between two old friends."
"I am willing to withdraw from the competition, if you and Haldir wish."
"Why would I wish for a competitor to withdraw?"
"You may not face each other in the end, depending on how the brackets are drawn."
"If such is fate, then so be it."
An amused expression spread across Glorfindel's face. "That is what Haldir said, not two minutes ago."
Thranduil had not expected Haldir to feel any differently.
"Your first match was fought over an elleth, if I recall the tale rightly."
"It was."
"And you won her," Glorfindel said.
Thranduil had never thought of it quite that way. But indeed, Glorfindel was right. He had won Caladhel's heart, her soul and all the years of her life. Thranduil's eyes abandoned the lord before him to pass over the crowd. He sought Caladhel, and finding her, caught her eyes. They were already upon him. She was curious of his conversation with Glorfindel, no doubt.
"I did," he replied.
"Then I suppose the outcome of this contest matters little in the end, except to those who have placed a wager on it."
Thranduil agreed with a nod of his head.
"May luck be with you today, King Thranduil."
"And with you, Lord Glorfindel."
Following the tournament, a great feast was held. Twelve courses, at least, as Caladhel counted them, followed by more rounds of dessert which included Arwen's favorite honey cakes. When at last all had eaten their fill, the tables were cleared. The gathering was called to silence, and by the most unlikely of heralds. Elladan and Elrohir barked at the crowd to hush for their father's announcement. The lively banter of friends and loved ones quieted shortly thereafter and all eyes turned to the head table. Elrond stood and held his glass aloft. He turned in the direction of his daughter.
"Today is a special day in the life of an elf. One thousand years we mark in the life of Arwen Undómiel. Since she drew her first breath she has been a light in all our lives, but to her family most of all. Nothing more precious shall I ever behold and no gift, material, could express our love for her."
"I hope this is not an excuse, sister, for giving you no gift," said Elrohir, loud enough for all to hear.
Thranduil thought it rude of the ellon to so interrupt his father, but Elrond merely smiled at his son's jest. The Lord of Imladris raised a hand and a steward came forth holding a box adorned in silk and lace. The steward placed it before Arwen.
Thranduil's attention shifted to his wife. Excitement lit her eyes and her hand clasped his in anticipation. Caladhel had played a crucial part in the making of Arwen's gift. Thranduil only hoped the end result would meet with her approval.
Arwen lifted the lid and the sides of the box fell away revealing a crown of splendid design, mithril and gold in the form of butterfly wings. Upon the silver strands were Caladhel's contribution, white stones reflecting the starlight.
"It is perfect," Caladhel whispered and Thranduil agreed.
Arwen stood speechless, beside herself with joy. Celebrían came forth to aid Elrond in setting the crown upon their daughter's head, replacing the simple mithril circlet she wore all the day before. The crowd marveled at the beauty of the crown and elven maid who wore it. The ladies of the court crowded around Arwen to examine it more closely. Caladhel went to join them.
It was later that eve when Arwen finally found King Thranduil unattended. He stood beneath a mallorn tree watching the dancers. His gaze rested on Caladhel, who was currently dancing with Haldir. He seemed not to mind that Lórien's captain had stolen his wife's attention. It surprised Arwen some, for she had found him to be ever jealous of Caladhel's company. Arwen was glad her cousin was otherwise occupied, for it afforded her the chance to speak with the King in private. She did not wish him to think her words were spoken at her mother's behest or for her cousin's sake only.
Thranduil spied Arwen before she came within twenty paces, his attention shifting from his wife to her face. He greeted the young Lady of Imladris with a nod of his head.
"Lady Arwen. Many blessings on you on this day."
"King Thranduil. I apologize for disrupting your solitude."
"No apology is necessary. You know I would rather share company with you than any other of Caladhel's kin."
"I appreciate your favor," said Arwen, "and also, I should like to thank you."
"Thank me for what?"
"For my gift." Her hands rose to touch the diamonds adorning the silver strands. "Mother told me you provided the stones."
"She is mistaken. It was your cousin who gifted them."
"But do they not come from your great hall?"
"They do, but they do not belong to me. I gave them to Caladhel long ago. They are hers alone to horde or to give away at will."
"Then I thank you for gifting them to Caladhel so she could share a few with me."
Thranduil's eyes came to rest on the crown, silver adorned here and there with white stones. It was a work of art, truly, and the elleth before him wore it well.
"I have found that torches upon cave walls do them little justice. They are far more radiant beneath the stars, adorning a fair head."
"I shall treasure them always," Arwen promised him. She bowed once more to the King of Greenwood before leaving to rejoin her kin.
Thranduil's attention returned to the dancers to find Caladhel was no longer among them. She weaved her way through the revelers to his side. Upon her arrival, he drew her into his arms and together they watched the dancers for a time. The sound of laughter a few minutes later drew their attention from the floor. Elladan and Elrohir stood near to Arwen, teasing their little sister. Celebrían gently admonished her sons while Elrond, smiling, shook his head.
"Has a more radiant star ever lived?" she asked of Arwen.
"Aside from you?" said Thranduil. "None but Lúthien, perhaps."
"They love her so. More than anything in this world." Thus was evident. Caladhel did not have to say so to make it true. One would have to be blind and deaf and heartless not to see it.
Thranduil watched the family, too, while his wife spoke of them. His gaze lingered long on Celebrían. The Lady of Imladris kissed her daughter's cheek, while shooing away her sons, who neither would relent from tormenting their sister. Elladan and Elrohir heeded their mother eventually, reluctantly, but despite their unruly behavior, Celebrían's gaze held for them nothing but love.
"It is difficult to imagine," he said.
Caladhel did not think so. "Can you not feel the bond they share in spirit and blood? I should like us to know it, too, some day."
Thranduil hugged Caladhel closer, his arms as possessive as his heart. "Some day."
