Chapter Eight
They ate sparsely and in silence, but they were together. Each contemplated what it meant to be reunited with their family; a husband who could look up and see his wife, children who could sit between their parents, siblings who had each other for protection and comfort. Elrond recovered in the embrace of his family, whole and safe, especially as Arwen overcame her brush with the Black Breath. Still, it was impossible not to consider that the peace forged for their children's generation was broken now. This was the beginning of unrest, the first drops of impending bloodshed.
Elrond took Arwen's and Elrohir's hands as his children sat on either side of him. "I should go back."
"I'll go," Celebrian said, standing. "I've rested, and you're exhausted, Elrond. We'll take turns on watch; no one should stay longer than a few hours until the darkness is purified. Elrohir, your watch will follow mine."
Her tone compelled only silent agreement. Through the night, Celebrian, Elrohir, and Elladen watched over Thranduil. Arwen stayed in the study to watch over her father. Elrond never closed his eyes, but he stayed near the warmth of the fire until dawn. In their turns, Celebrian and the twins returned, dressed in fresh clothes, hair damp from recent washing, none looking worse for their proximity to the dark curse over Thranduil.
In the days that followed they kept a similar routine. The watch periods grew longer as the athelas did its work. The corruption in Thranduil's blood receded. The wound in his hand, though stubborn, began to heal. He showed no sign of waking, but neither was he disturbed with dreams.
Travellers through the valley carried whispers of a massacre in Mirkwood, but most of the details seemed to be the work of fireside storytelling. The Elves of Imladris maintained their silence. No one spoke of the body in the sanctuary or of the mysterious cause that Lord Elrond's family was suddenly so committed to.
Celebrian saw Elves make their way to Aradess' resting place and found the tributes they left during her own daily visits. Wreaths of flowers, silver talismans, written prayers. In the midst of her grief, Celebrian felt that she merely haunted a few rooms as a silent spectre with a grey shawl trailing behind her. The time for intervention had passed and now she could only watch. She tempered even her simplest hopes: Thranduil did not need to wake yet so long as he still lived, Legolas did not need to arrive today, her children needed only to rest while their own sorrows taxed them so. She could not rid the world of poison or death or sadness. There was no power in the world for that.
The horn of a far-off watchman broke the week's worth of dismal quiet. Moments later, Arwen came up to the sanctuary.
"The party from Lorien are nearly here," she said.
"I heard," Celebrian said. "Give me your arm."
They walked together through the corridors, Celebrian holding tight to her daughter's hand. They met Elladen and Elrohir, who checked their nervous energy to stay alongside their mother's stately pace.
"Elrohir, please go tell you father," she said. "Elladen, you and Arwen will do whatever the rest of the riders need so I can speak to Legolas in private."
Elrohir peeled away from them. Elladen and Arwen showed their obedience with their silence, which carried on as they waited at the top of the stairs overlooking the western landing. Celebrian leaned heavily against the balustrade, weakened with the thought of what she had to do. She finally stood upright only with great force of will.
For the second time in a week, Mirkwood royalty came thundering up the bridge alone on a white horse, dismounted, and looked up at the keepers of Imladris with utter desperation. Legolas wore a bow and a sword crossed over his back, leather armour, and a long hunting knife on his belt, but his face spoke only of helplessness.
"My parents," he said.
"Come with me, Prince Legolas," Celebrian said. She began to descend the stairs, but he bounded up them to meet her.
Arwen and Elladen bowed their heads as Legolas passed them without a glance.
"Where is your escort?" Celebrian asked as she led him through the hallways.
"I rode ahead," he replied. "Please, Lady Celebrian, tell me why my mother and father are here."
Celebrian halted and turned to face him, laid a hand on his arm, hoping he could not feel her hand shaking. She had to maintain her own composure, to comfort him. In a moment, she was going to change his life forever.
"Legolas there was an attack in Mirkwood."
He bore that silently, but his suffering was clear on his young face.
"Your parents were injured and your father brought your mother here seeking the help of Lord Elrond," she continued. "Your father has been improving in my husband's care, but he is still very unwell." Celebrian took a deep breath. "Legolas, I'm so sorry. Your mother did not survive."
Legolas staggered back a step, gasped as if he had been struck. Celebrian felt the strength drain out of him and suppressed the urge to embrace him as she would her own child in such a crisis.
"How?" he asked.
"She was stabbed. By the time they reached the valley, there was nothing we could do."
Legolas weakly wrenched his arm from her grasp and turned away. His shoulders shuddered violently, but there was no sound from him, not even breath.
"May I take you to her?" Celebrian asked.
He nodded and Celebrian turned so that he could keep his tears or his fury or whatever it was he felt hidden from her. They wove through the corridors deep into the house and ascended the stairs to the sanctuary. Celebrian stepped aside in the doorway so he could pass her. She dropped her gaze to the floor and blinked back her tears, her grief returning with as much force as the night Aradess was carried here.
Aradess lay as pale and still as the stone that bore her. There was no mistaking that the life had gone from her.
Legolas closed his hand around her cold fingers and moaned in pain. He dropped to his knees, nearly doubled over, sobbing, one hand braced against the floor, the other gripping his mother's hand. Celebrian sat down on the stone bench by the window and held tight to the edges of the seat to keep herself back. She would not leave him, but it was not her place to do anything else.
As she watched over him, Legolas became a small child in her eyes. A little boy who could only weep at the world's infinite cruelty without his mother or father to protect him. Three hundred years was plenty of time to learn the bow and the sword to keep death at bay, but it was not enough to learn an understanding of death itself.
Legolas cried until he had nothing left, and then he trembled and struggled to breathe until his grief exhausted him. He pressed his forehead against the catafalque just to stay upright.
There were few in Middle Earth who knew enough of Thranduil to believe it, but Legolas' vulnerability—like so much of him—was his father's. What his heart felt moved him completely, whether it was love or anger or pain. Celebrian knew that what she witnessed now was the total breaking Thranduil must have felt and she felt a cold breath blow up her spine to remember Elrond's words. I don't know how he'll survive both the Black Breath and the knowledge that his wife is dead.
Celebrian silenced her mind. If she thought about what it would do to Legolas to lose both his parents, it would undo her.
"Legolas, let me take you to Lord Elrond's study," Celebrian said, her voice hoarse. "He will have news of your father."
She did not expect Legolas to get so easily to his feet. He wavered where he stood and his head was heavy between his shoulders, but he stayed up. Celebrian led the way. She could hardly hear him behind her; Legolas was only a shadow that followed her own.
The study was warm with a freshly stoked fire, and some food had been laid out, as requested. Elrond awaited them, but he was not alone. Celeborn and Galadriel stood side by side, their hoods down, but otherwise still dressed in all their travelling clothes.
"Our deepest condolences, Prince Legolas," Celeborn said. He continued speaking, but Celebrian could not hear it for the voice in her head that overwhelmed all else.
The Black Shadow was here, Galadriel said.
Yes, Celebrian replied.
Let Elrond take him to his father. I must see Aradess. Now.