Chapter Five

He awoke with a stir, the chill of the early morning air making him draw the blankets closer to his body. It was times like these, the day after a rough night, when he truly appreciated the comfort of a warm bed. The last he remembered, Elrond had led him to this room, advising that he should get some rest. And soon his mind had flown away to the land of dreams, the thought of his Lady never far.

Thinking of his Queen, the King could not help but smile. And yet it pained him as well to imagine her suffering. If he could be put in her place and take up all her pain he would. If it meant that she would be safe.

Eyes half-closed, he was quite unaware of the presence of another in the room. "Good morning, Thranduil," came a voice. Startled, Thranduil reluctantly opened his lids to discover a tall, slender figure towering above him.

Elrond had come to greet his friend. He didn't speak to him for a time. He silently moved over to the window, his hands behind his back. A question gnawed at Thranduil's insides with the ferocity of a greedy beast. He grew more and more impatient as seconds went by. Surely he must have news to give me. He thought.

"Elrond…" Thranduil began. The Lord of Rivendell slightly turned to face him, the faint lines on his visage tight with a grave expression. He then let out a deep sigh, one which made Thranduil uneasy.

"If it is news of your wife that you wish to hear, so be it. It would be unjust for me to keep it from you. I have spent the entire night by her side, as you know. In that lengthy span of time I discovered something… astonishing."

During the time Elrond paused to catch a breath, Thranduil waited miserably for him to finish. He had to know, and at this point he was preparing himself to hear the worst.

"It appears to me that the birth of your son was extremely hard on her. How to restore her waning strength is beyond me. It seems that she passed on a vital part of her soul-her very life-force, to your son during his birth. All newborns need a certain amount of energy to survive the first years, which they receive from both parents. It is rare for an Elf to require so much from its mother, enough for a part of her to be sucked out. This leads me to believe only one thing: your son is no ordinary one, Thranduil. At birth he has claimed the strength of a full-grown Elf. We can now presume with utmost certainty that he will grow into an Elf with great power."

Thranduil turned pale. "Do you mean," he choked, "that she cannot be saved? You have the knowledge of various cures…"

At this, Elrond smiled sadly, firmly replying, "She has already given herself for her son. As he took his first breaths in this world, he needed her energy. And she gave it to him without question. No, it was taken from her without her consent. She had no say in the matter. In the moment Legolas arrived on the grounds of Middle-earth Celabeth was as vulnerable as a turtle without its shell. What is done is done. It cannot be helped. We cannot alter the past, Thranduil. We cannot take back what is done."

Thranduil closed his eyes and tried to shut out what he was hearing. We cannot take back what is done. Elrond's words spelled out doom, and Thranduil wished he could efface them all.

"But there is a way to save her. The only way." Elrond's eyes lit up a bit with hope. Thranduil, whose tears began trickling down his cheeks like small streams, did not answer.

"She must take a ship into the Undying Lands. You must let her go. She cannot stay here much longer," said Elrond, with urgency in his voice.

Weakly: "When? When does she have to leave?" Thranduil merely whispered as he spoke. He was torn inside, although he did not show it.

"As soon as a ship can be mustered. I will have the Elves of Rivendell build a ship in the coming weeks. Celabeth can ride it when it is ready."

It was happening all too fast for Thranduil. How can things happen this way? He kept his lament to himself as he continued to weep. Elrond quickly came to his side to offer what consolation he could. That this was what was best for her. That he hadn't been responsible for what had occurred. He had done nothing.

"You may go see her now, my friend. She asked about you and Legolas. She wishes to see you both."

Thranduil willingly got out of bed, rushing to get to whom he missed so dearly. He walked out so fast that he missed Elrond's words which were directed at him: "The time has come, Thranduil. It was wrong of you to deny the prophecy."

But Thranduil couldn't hear. He was too far away to hear; it was as if Elrond was talking to himself.