Sorry this a bit long

Important facts to note: It is the year 1000 of the third age,

Once again he was welcomed warmly into the bosom of Imladris with open arms, for word had spread before their coming of the visitors, especially that of Glorfindel; few there were who remembered those old days when he was alive in his former self, chief among these was Erestor, the high council of Elrond himself. Yet their excitement was muted as the small company of travelers arrived in the dead of the night as many lay eyes-open in the world of dreams, and the only witnesses to their arrival were the guards and the lord and lady of Imladris themselves. When they arrived the Hall of Fire was warm and the hearth was at a sleepy blaze, barely lit to warm the home of Elrond, yet inside the Elven Lord's study many candles were lit and refreshments poured out for the guests. As they entered the vast study the smell of parchment and leather-bound books filled their noses, which had become acquainted with the smells of the wild and of the sea; Elrond himself greeted them at the gate and escorted them to his home where stood his wife dressed in a flowing white robe, Celebrian, the silver queen of Lorien, as she was called in those days. Upon seeing her brother-friend she went directly to him and embraced him, a smile worn without worry or malice graced her visage; and yet he, said merely a simple greeting of

"Good evening gwathel…"

"Are you alright?"

"Yes only tired."

And with that the guest lapsed into a brief conversation with the Lord Elrond before they too wish for rest from their long journeying; as they were shown to the guest quarters Celebrian waited behind and took Celebrin by the arm as they walked over the bridge that scaled the air above the rushing current of Bruinen.

"Alphindil stayed in Mithlond? That is a strange action for him…even injured he would always jump at the chance to travel, here at the very least?"

"Yes…he did."

"What news does he bring us? Surely the children would wish to hear from him?"

"He kept in contact with them?"

"Of course, every year he would write, speaking of the happenings of Mithlond, sending greetings from you…greetings… I assume you never knew about?"

"No… I …did not know about them."

"Celebrin? Is everything alright?"

"I…am tired Celebrian, I will see you next morn? Goodnight."

And with that he turned leaving her in the arm of her husband and shifted quickly into the night and to the home he kept vacant, if by chance he chose to travel to Imladris, a home that long belonged to him ever since the founding of the refuge. Even in the darkness he could find his way around it, fingering the headboard and frame of the bed he carved with his own hands. The detail jumping out into his memory, each crevice and groove speaking of the years he spent in that place; and yet now- now when the heaviness of war was not weighing upon him the room felt so empty and sterile of life. The darkness filled the room and the light of the waning moon lit only the area closest to the window; and he felt now what it was to be alone. For in the years he spent in Mithlond he always moved here and there, running errands, keeping busy, too busy to truly allow it to sink in. Yet here in the darkness of the room, with no lord to call him to duty, no war to keep his thought focused, he felt the loneliness and the unknown creep about him, he was a servant without a master, an orphan again of his own doing. And so that night passed, and the quiet of the new morn was disturbed by a morning song as the rosy sun passed into the deep valley.

That morning was like any other, the air was abound with talking children and the gossip of the new days, yet now there was also an air of finality to these days, as if they were numbered and their end was coming soon to a close, for the paths north were now rumored to be wrought with peril and darkness. The name Angmar became feared by those who would pass by the old road, rather than take the journey to the southern gap or beneath the mountains through the realm of the Naugrim. Rumor had grown of a shadowed figure lurking in the fastness of the northern arms of the Mountains of Mist, gathering all things dark and perilous to it, yet its threat was felt less than the shadow that grew in the East; the folk of Thranduil remained hidden in the fastness of their kingdom, surrounded by the light gorging webs of spiders.

Yet to the elves the world was not so perilous, for they who had known this evil from birth judged it to be minimal, or remnants of the past evil that was being purged from the land. And in Imladris all remained guarded by the ever-present watch of the Bruinen and the house of Elrond; and joyous song drowned out the gossip of the darkening of the world without. There amid the tall changing leaves of spring, sat the Silver Queen of Lorien, strumming at a small wooden harp while in the distance youths danced to the playing of flutes, two twin elves danced with their kinswoman as others played their wooden instruments. Celebrin, in fresh and newly cleaned garb, watched as they enjoyed their merriment, and as he watched he wondered how he was to tell she who was sitting there so peacefully, what had taken him months to come to terms with; in truth a part of him wish he was in a dream world, and he would rise from his dreaming and hear the patter of pans and the preparation of the morning meal in the other room, coupled with the sounds and smells of the crashing waves. His name being called awakened him from his daydream as he saw the seated figure motion for him to sit beside her. Breathing in a deep breath of composure he sat beside her as they both watched the youths in the distance circle a stump of a broken tree, flowers opening in the morning at their beckoning. The lady of Imladris chuckled to herself, the old wild laugh of a youthful elven woman replaced with a deep motherly one, which brought forth the essence of the earth into the air. Celebrin was content to merely watch, knowing only that such a distraction took away from the duty he must perform; and he thought to himself,

Why had I not written to speak of what happened? Was I ashamed of what had come to pass? And if so ashamed for who? Of what?

"What thoughts eat at you my brother?"

"Nothing Celebrian, only that this life seems to fit you every time another day passes…and a wonderment at how protected you are, and safe from the world outside."

"Is everything alright? You were cryptic yesterday…not yourself."

"And how am I supposed to act?…Forgive me…I am at odds with my…with the Lord Cirdan."

"So I have heard…and it must be something of importance, you have never in all the years I have known you, referred to him as "Cirdan". What did he do? Or rather what did you do this time?"

"It is nothing…"

Celebrian gave her friend an imploring look, mixed with disbelief, and Celebrin brought his eyes down to the earth. And he felt the uneasiness of the moment creep around him, causing him to rise and pace the ground looking for the words to come for him, and in silence hoping something would come and help him to get the words out and make some of this awkwardness end. He opened his mouth, remembering the past two years in Mithlond, and his voice spoke the name he had loathed to hear, yet wished to every moment, his voice cracking beyond the sound of tears and a whispering whimpering voice left his mouth as he said,

"Al…Alphindil…"

"Yes? What happened? …Celebrin?"

He could not bring the words to his mouth, they stuck to the back of his throat choking him in salty tears and the face of Celebrian turned to worry as no word came forth from her friend, she motioned to say something but was interrupted by a fair and weeping voice,

"Naneth?"

"Yes Arwen? What is it, I am busy."

"Forgive me, but my necklace… it broke."

And the gentle illuminated hands showed the seated lady a pendant made of silver and mithril, and where once sat a pearl of radiant and shimmering hues no was a vacant seat of unpolished silver. Swan wings of silver now were broken and lying beside the main body of the pendant. The silver haired lady knew of where this pendant came and she placed her hand to her mouth as she took the gentle jewel into her other hand, looking only at the downcast face of Celebrin with wonder and sorrow, her voice cracked beneath the weight of her thoughts,

"How…?"

"Elrohir spun me too quickly, I lost my balance and it…it flew off my neck…please Naneth I didn't mean to break it."

The slender elf maiden knelt before the seated figure, stroking the skirts of her mother trying to discern her thoughts. Celebrian only kept her gaze upon the raven haired elf before her, whose tired, worn and tearless eyes spoke of thoughts that few could fathom. As the elf-maiden tried to coax a reaction out of her mother, Celebrin placed his hand upon her shoulder, guiding her away toward her on-looking brothers, and with all the strength that was left in him he spoke to her with a voice bespeaking of ancient wisdom,

"It is alright child, you were not at fault…it was other matters, such things can be replaced or remade, now dry your tears and return to your brothers."

As the maiden left, he turned once again to the seated figure he found her eyes keeping their gaze directed at his own, her fists were clenched and from on a small stream of blood poured out into the grass. Celebrin quickly wrested the jewel from her hand and laid it gently, with reverence, upon the floor. She looked in his eyes and asked,

"How…how did he die?"

"He… is… not dead."

"Do not lie to me Celebrin…I know the work of Alphindil to never have broken, why now, if he not be dead?"

"He…he is no longer upon this soil, that much is true…he…he is gone from this world, and now lives in another."

"When?"

"Two years hence..."

"And you did nothing! Wrote no letter sent no word to me! How could you be so callous Celebrin, and leave me thinking he still dwelt upon this world!"

"Is it not enough that I had to endure his leaving!? Only to know your pity as well? Or rather to be coddled for being too weak to leave with him? I was ashamed to be so weak! To have loved …and have had my heart broken again was too much to bear! …I have been sick Celebrian… all my years of delayed illness have assailed me- like a fool I believed myself to be impervious to the war sickness, only to have had it grow, until the moment when I had no strength to defend against it… How could I have sent word, when I could find no strength to give it?!"

And with that he feel to his knees and wept before all in the garden, his moans of weeping interrupting the course of the joyful day, and the Silver Lady wrapped her arms around her friend and muffled his cries with her bosom and she brought his ears to her heart as she sent all away and comforted him until he could find no voice nor tears to weep any longer.

The days passed on after the incident and in silent watch the Lady of Imladris kept silent vigil over her companion as he walked this way and that, seldom returning the glances of passers by. During his time there he kept mostly to himself, speaking only with the travelers, or with the lady herself, mostly drawing attention away from what was apparently causing this strange behavior. At all times he would look at the blue gem around his neck, its broken and shimmering form, and he would gently touch the ages old scar upon his face, a wound of the memory one would call it. And at the times of night he would remain silent in his quarters and finger gently a small swan-like object, as he looked out east toward the very faces of the Misty Mountains. He heard no longer the songs outside his window, and instead went now and then to the smithies, and spoke often with the makers of jewels and weaponry.

And when the moon had come full waxed and a farewell feast was laid for the travelers he at last appeared again in public, no longer garbed as he had been, rather he seemed to be happier, more at ease with the moods of the evening. Sitting between the Lady Celebrian and the Lord Glorfindel, he seemed, at first, ill at ease upon being in a place of honor, yet through the night he spoke with the golden-haired elf at his side, and much of that was forgotten. Music began to play, flutes lighted the air, and drums rolled out beats worthy of dancing feet. And Celebrin felt a gentle, warm hand fall upon his shoulder, he turned and expected to see silver hair and a smiling face, yet before his eyes stood and tall and slender figure, wearing a evening sky hued garment, and whose raven like hair shimmered as the stars and the silver circlet she wore around her head acted as the moon of the night. Finding no words he simply bowed his head to the lady before him, a lady that he had last seen as a child who could barely walk and only briefly hence. The lady's soft and melodious voice pierced his ears as she held out her hand invitingly to him,

"My mother tells me you taught her how to dance…If you would will it, I would be glad to be your pupil as she was."

"Lady Arwen…I have seen you dance, you need no teaching from me…"

"Even so, dance while you are still here to, while the night is still filled with merriment."

And Celebrin took the elven-maiden's arm as they moved to the center of the grand hall- Celebrian smiled to see the sight, her husband however allowed a slight and fatherly frown to enter upon his face; his daughter danced with few in her lifetime at such gatherings all of them related in some manner. He began to stand but a firm and soft push kept him in his chair as his wife only shook her head and motioned him to be patient and forget the worries of a father for his only daughter.

The music began to play a soft and harmonious tune and the two raven-haired elves circled the floor, keeping their eyes upon the other's, one was laden with age, heavy with wisdom and long suffering sorrow- the other filled with the life of youth, yet in them one could discern the subtle tellings of ancient years culminating to one brilliant and ever shining light, as the very formation of stars. The moonlight reflected the ever-shimmering stars in their tresses as they spun and weaved as the very waters of the river below them.

And so they passed through that night and so too did the night come to a close and the feast of farewell was over.

The dawning of the new day brought with it the falling of Earendil, and the gearing of horses for the journey south, it was indeed a long and trying road, yet safest, for the men of Gondor and Eriador walked those paths often and all that was evil and dark in the world dwelt in the frozen north. In the air Celebrin smelled something ancient calling to him, a scent of ancient wood burning in a fireplace, or incense filling the air with its thick and heavy plumes of fragrant smoke. The falling of the river seemed to slow in time and he felt an incredible weight upon his chest, a weight that said farewell to all he saw, as if he would never again see the sight he now took in. He looked out his window as the breeze settled gently upon his face and the cool dewy morning kissed his tear-soaked visage; and a voice from within him spoke in a small and heavy whisper,

" I amar prestar aen, han noston ned 'wilith…"

The world is changed, I can smell it in the air…

"Anirach, gwador nin, gwannad mar lin?"

Do you wish, my brother, to leave your home?

Celebrin turned to face the voice behind him, and his eyes took in the sight of a white gown trimmed in shimmering silver and gray; the hands were held together showing the silent symbol of sadness and anxiety. And the flawless ivory face looked directly into his eyes and her long silver hair blew in the breeze that had previously graced his own face. He let loose a sigh that lay within his breast, and replied,

"Mas bar nin, gwathelen? U-ethelithon…Baden pelia athan nin…haer o nir a naeth."

Where is my home, my sister? I will not be coming back…my path is spread beyond me…away from grief and despair."

"O man pedich?"

What do you speak of?

Celebrin once again looked beyond the window to the mountains in the east, so much had happened in this land he had helped to raise, the kingdoms he had helped found were now so different from what he remembered. They had grown without him, all had…

"I am a relic here, in this new age, I saw that well enough last night..."

"You seemed to enjoy yourself…"

"A smile can tell many things gwathel, it can tell when one finds joy, or even madness…I was happy last night…but I could still see with my own eyes how inhospitable this world has become to me…here in this new age, I find that all I have worked for, all I have cherished has been brought to ruin, it is folly for me to remain and see everything I hold dear suffer the same fate as Alphindil."

"Have not I remained? Are not the kingdoms you helped create still standing? Nothing in this world has changed Celebrin, you only choose to see what is no longer there, instead of what could be there- you worship the past, rather than seek the future."

"It is no choice of mine to worship the past, I am of the past, a being born for a different time, and different place…my home lies in the ocean, where swim now the whales over the throne of Thingol."

"Doriath is gone, and you would waste away into nothing before you see that!"

"Do not demean my thoughts Celebrian! I know that the world I loved is gone now, that the home I cherished is now beyond my grasp…but here, in Imladris, or in Mithlond, Lorien or Balar I am only the personification of an ideal. A hero thought of only in song, remembered only by the deeds he did in the past…and when the youth of our people look upon me, they see one thing, a memory, an ideal. That is my future here Celebrian, the elder days are gone, and I should have taken my leave then…before any of this ever happened. I only hope my return, if it come, bears better fortunes for all. "

Before the silver haired lady spoke he embraced her and took her deeply into his arms, and it was then she knew how perilous sorrow had become to her people- hearing his heart slowly beating she felt the rushing of the tears forming in his eyes, the connection to the earth-womb- that is what her mother used to call it when she was a child in Eregion. Like the elder days her memory had passed beyond the sea, and did not live with her at all times, yet this one who was entwined in her arms lived in those days, and was torn from it at so young an age he never learned how to live in the present. He held on to the past as he held on to her now, tightly, for the past was certain- and it was then that she found compassion for him who she always saw as strong as her own father, in his weakness of will and heart she found his strength, strength over the tide of change that swept all her father loved and sent it rolling into the sea. And moments later as they waved their farewell she cried tears of bittersweet joy, and prayed to the morning sky that they would meet again; yet the winds of farewell were strong and a shadow and a doubt crept into her heart as he left her far-sight, see thy last and final gaze upon the past, for it is gone forever. Celebrin last words were not to her, but to a stranger with golden sun-lit hair and a stern Noldorin visage; they held arms in friendship- a sight she seldom saw him in, much less with a Noldor- and Celebrin spoke his last words,

"Hir Glorfindel, it is good that you choose to remain here in the fastness of Imladris, it is a place where one can learn of the past…and live in the present."

"Indeed Friend Celebrin, I find it similar to Vanyimar, a gentle mingling of two eras of life…It is a pity you will not join me at my side to experience this new world and teach me of its workings since I have been…away."

"Would that I show you all of Ennor, now that it is changed…but here you will find guides more to your liking. And a home."

"What do you…?"

"Overlooking the river called Bruinen, there is a home, a rather large home built

at the founding of this place…It was once mine, carved by my own hands and furnished by skill learned long ago, it is the… the most steadfast remnant of the Elder days here in Imladris, and it is yours now…I will have no need of it anymore."

And the golden-haired elf stood agape at the gift he was given as Celebrin handed him his key- signifying to the on-looking Celebrian that his words of farewell seemed ever more present in her mind. And his image disappeared from the sight of her eyes, and the day lengthened.

And sitting quietly in her chambers as she prepared for the noon hour meal a servant came knocking upon her door, and was guided in by her own raven haired daughter. The servant looked nervous yet with an encouraging word she procured a small ornate wooden box saying,

" I have word and gift from Master Uial my lady."

"Please give it to me kind Uriel…Arwen if you would please leave us."

"Actually my lady, the Lord Uial wished for both ladies of the house of Elrond to be present."

Arwen seemed as nervous as the servant beside her as she moved to stand beside her mother, neither knowing what to expect. The Lady of Imladris stood erect her silver hairs gliding down in soft trellises to the brink of her belt, and though she seemed as flawless as a statue, within her she trembled…she knew Celebrin to speak more of matters that were unsavory in written word rather than in the open, a tactic he learned from her father. The servant spoke again as silence enveloped the room and took from the wooden box a small letter which read,

" My dearest sister, know you now the manner of my leaving, and how I mean to not return. Know this that in all that I find sorrowful in this world, you and your family have never before been a part of that. This world, which I have come to find needs me no longer, was made for you by the hands of elves long beyond this world, I am included among them…I made this world for you to live in, and, sorrowfully, did not fashion it for myself. I should have died countless times, in countless battles and did not- for what? Celebrian, my life must find meaning again, away from legend and song. The Sickle of Doriath cannot be both subject of song and living memory, for some things must stay legend and others living present…I am neither and both. To your daughter and yourself I have left items I hold precious and dear, for only you could wear them and give them the honor I could not. I go now beyond all roads in Ennor, to a place where none know my name or my legend, and I mean never to return, beyond all hope and love once more. Think of me in the songs, and remember me little in what I had become, for I would have you remember me when I smiled rather than when I cried. Farewell my dearest, I have loved you more than all the flowers of this world, Navear."

After reading the note Celebrian sat upon her bed and stared into nothingness; her daughter took the box from the servant and sent the maiden away, and then kneeling beside her mothers legs she gazed into the soft blue eyes and tried to discern any emotion but only received empty thought. Celebrian at last wept, and smiled upon her daughter's concerned face saying in a whisper,

"He will be happier, I hope, do not weep for what you have heard…it is not a message of forboding, but one of hope."

"Will he return Naneth?"

"I hope so…what is in the box?"

The raven haired maiden opened its ornate iron clasp and took in a gasp of surprise as before her shone out a jewel of silver and mithril in the gentle form of a star,in it was set a stone of adamant, shining brilliantly in the light of the morning, and what now looked like the wings of a butterfly seemed to make the pendant float above the surface- attached to the jewel was a small note on which was written,

"An Arwen, Hiril Imladris…El sila o mor, be Earendil revia ath I-gwilith, annol estel I-edhil."

For Arwen, Lady of Imladris…A star shines from the darkness, like Earendil flies across the air, giving hope to the elvenkind.

And beside the silver adamant star lay a blue stone, broken long years ago, and yet repaired with a noticeable mark down the middle that spread off into three branches. The deep blue gem shimmered in a nightshade of the winter nights when the stars and moon seem closest to the earth; when Celebrian saw the jewel before her she let loose a strenuous and melted breath, mixed with a bittersweet hope that held a fragrance of doubt, for within her mind she knew the portent of this gift that came twofold- whether it was meant for her to return or for her keeping she knew not, only that time would tell the meaning of this gift. And so mother and daughter sat in the Lady's quarters, while the world seemed to pass them by, fingering the jewels and the meaning they carried, the history of one and the hope of the other- there at the cross-roads of time when all that was old was left to legend and history and all that was present was cherished. And as the Mountains of Mist passed him by Celebrin silently held in his hands the last cherished artifact of his life, the swan brooch of Alphindil, made of a black stone and trimmed in mithril, set in an image of flight. And he looked to the east, his last great journey- and as he looked upon Calenardhon he set his wings ready for flight, flight away from what kept him ground, and he-for the first time in his life- knew purest fear.

The Evenstar pendant- if you read the last few chapters of House of Uial, you know that Alphindil made a swan-like pendant for Arwen, which in this story broke, then was remade-obviously-This pendant is my nod to the movies of LOTR, the new description I hope is close to the Evenstar pendant. I hope

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