Disclaimer: Not mine, so please don't sue. No money was made from the writing of this, only wasted time which should have been used to finish my Halloween story that I have to finish reading in class tomorrow. No matter...
Time frame: Well, the time frame becomes pretty apparent at the end. But just to give you a heads up, this is shortly (as in VERY shortly) before Elrond and Celebrían begin to court.
A/N: So, I was listening to music while doing homework tonight, and "Come What May" came on. There was this one line that just jumped out at me this time around. I think it went something along the lines of "And listen to my heart..." or something to that effect. Anyway, that was how this idea was born. It's very late for me, so my apologies for any grammatical errors herein. A huge thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter: dinopoodle, Guest, and LalaithElerrina! Also, many thanks to all of you who have favorited and/or alerted. To all of you lurkers, thanks for reading, although I would love it if you would take the time to drop off a few words, even if it's an anonymous "Hey, I liked it" or whatever. In any case, though, I hope that you enjoy!
Translations:
Nenya: Water (One of the three elven rings of power - the Ring of Adamant, and the ring of water. This ring was given to Galadriel to keep)
~Listen to My Heart~
A hesitant knock at the doorway broke Elrond's concentration on the papers scattered across his desktop. He placed his quill down in the inkwell rather agitatedly, frowning in annoyance. He had specifically asked that he not be disturbed, something that he rarely did, and when he did ask such a thing, it was adhered to near-religiously. Normally it was, in any case.
You are being irascible, Elrond told himself sternly. Now cease being such. It is no one's fault, and you should not take your fear from this afternoon out on anyone else. With a small, nearly inaudible sigh, Elrond schooled his features into impassivity, hiding his thoughts behind the calm, collected mask that he had come to be so well known for.
A second knock, even more tentative than the first, sounded at the study door.
"Enter," Elrond bade. The door opened softly, a fact that struck Elrond as odd, seeing as he had assumed that whoever it was who dared disturb him was either one of his advisors, or one of the Dúnedain council that was currently adjourning in his house. As he thought about it, however, he realized that even the knock had sounded different than one would have expected, had it been one of his presumed guests.
Someone slipped through the narrow opening between door and frame, then turned and closed the door gently, the latch clicking into place quietly. The person turned slowly toward Elrond's desk, and the light from the fire in the grate fell across her face.
Silver blonde locks cascaded down her back and over her shoulders in loose ringlets, accenting ice blue eyes that shone out from a pale face. A thin, navy blue dress clung to her shoulders and hips, over which she wore a loose robe of pale cream that trailed about her.
"Celebrían," Elrond exclaimed, all of his ire from the moment before vanishing as he stood and swept around the edge of his desk to go to the young woman standing practically in the doorway, her arms wrapping themselves over her stomach. She had not moved since she had entered, and was simply standing there uncertainly, shifting her weight slightly from one foot to the other. "I thought you were resting," Elrond commented, worry now beginning to take the place of the annoyance of before.
"I could not sleep," Celebrían replied softly, not meeting Elrond's gaze.
Reaching her, Elrond reached out and placed his hands on Celebrían's upper arms, just below her shoulders, silently urging her to look up at him. She did so slowly.
"Every time I close my eyes," Celebrían confided, "I see the water closing over my head, blocking out my sight; I feel the currents holding me down helplessly, thwarting all of my struggles. I…" Celebrían broke off, unable to choke out any more. She was trembling, Elrond realized.
Elrond's healer instincts took control, tucking away the worry that gnawed at him at seeing Celebrían in such a state.
With his hands still on Celebrían's arms, Elrond backed up, leading her gently toward the fireplace, around which two armchairs and a small sofa had been situated. She followed almost numbly, trusting that where he led was where she wished to follow.
They reached the sofa, and Elrond guided Celebrían down onto the cushions. She sat down gingerly as if she were almost afraid that the couch would sting her, her eyes still fastened on Elrond's face. Elrond sat down beside her before reaching out and pulling a neatly folded blanket from the armrest a few inches away. He shook out the folds, then draped it around Celebrían's shoulders
"Thank you," Celebrían murmured, finally looking down, her gaze coming to rest on her hands, which were folded in her lap.
"I cannot…!" Celebrían exclaimed, and her eyes flew back to Elrond's. She fell silent, and her frustration at her inability to speak her thoughts was evident in her gaze. Elrond remained silent, knowing that she would find the words to continue on, and waited for her to be ready to do so.
"I cannot seem to forget," Celebrían finally said. "I cannot forget the feeling of helplessness, nor the fear, nor the realization of how fragile life truly is. It was as if, in that moment that I was pulled underwater, I was able to understand just how tenuous our hold on life is. With just the briefest second, that life can be extinguished. Merely one little slip, one misstep, and that thin thread that separates the living from the dead snaps. And I am afraid," she added in a whisper. "I am afraid that such a delicate thing can be destroyed by something as slight as a breath of wind."
For a long moment, Elrond was silent, pondering on what he could say to her that would ease her fear.
"Do you trust me?" he asked finally.
"Yes," Celebrían replied without even an instant of hesitation, although she looked at him questioningly.
Elrond took Celebrían's hands in his own, pulling her closer to him. He leaned back as he did so, settling into the pillows tucked into the corner, where the back of the couch met the armrest. He pulled her down carefully until she was lying with her head on his chest, her ear directly over his heart.
"What do you hear?" he asked after a few seconds.
"I hear your heart beating," Celebrían answered.
"Aye. And does my heart beat sound weak?"
"No, it does not," Celebrían replied a little more confidently.
"Life is a delicate thing," Elrond said, his voice soft, "But there is strength in it as well. We are living, breathing beings, creatures with souls. Yes, that means that we die, that we are subject to the ways and woes of the world, but that also means that we have a brightly burning flame, a flame that no other being has. It gives us the power of choice, something which lends us strength if we choose the path of life."
Celebrían shifted, moving her head so that she could look up at Elrond, who was gazing down at her as she lay against his chest.
"Do you really believe that?" she queried.
"Aye, I do," Elrond replied. "Nothing happens by accident, and life is far too precious a thing to be blown away without a second thought."
"Thank you," Celebrían whispered after a moment's silent thought, moving her head back to its previous position with her ear over Elrond's heart. "Thank you for being here. And…and for coming for me. I thought I was going to die today," she said tremulously. "But then you came. You came for me. I prayed that you would save me…and you did." A small sob hitched her voice.
"I will always come for you," Elrond promised, wrapping his arms around her shaking shoulders in a comforting embrace. "I promise."
Galadriel and Celeborn approached Elrond's study at a sedate pace, their arms intertwined. They spoke not a word – they did not need to. So perfectly in sync were they, silver and gold, that they no longer needed words to know what the other thought and felt, all mental powers aside.
Neither would deny that the incident earlier in the evening had frightened them. Galadriel knew that she would take the sight of Celebrían being pulled beneath the water by the terrifyingly powerful undercurrent with her to her dying day. Even now, knowing that her daughter was safe, Galadriel felt her heart constrict with fear at the thought of what had nearly happened.
If it had not been for Elrond…
If it had not been for Elrond, Celeborn would have gone in after Celebrían, and likely would have suffered the same fate as his daughter. Nenya would not have allowed Galadriel to have attempted to touch the water, for the Ring of Adamant had sensed the rampaging current as it rushed down the stream, and knew that even her powers would not have been able to halt such a force of water that had not already once been bent to her control.
If it had not been for Elrond…
But Elrond had been there, and he had dived into the churning waters without a second thought. The minute in which he had been underwater, had fought the river for supremacy, had felt like an eternity to all those on the bank. But he triumphed, and the river had bowed to the command of its lord. He resurfaced, and in his arms he carried a semi-conscious Celebrían.
Galadriel was dragged from her thoughts as someone stepped into the hall in front of her and Celeborn, effectively blocking their way.
"Lord Elrond asked that he not be disturbed," the guard informed the lord and lady, bowing his head respectfully, yet remaining in their path.
Galadriel glanced over at Celeborn, one eyebrow arching upward gracefully.
"Might we ask why he asked not to be disturbed?" Celeborn asked, his tone light, yet with a cold edge to it. The guard glanced between Celeborn and Galadriel and swallowed thickly, but still did not budge.
"No my lord," the guard replied, "He did not. Lord Glorfindel merely approached me a little more than two hours past, and asked if I would be willing to stand guard over my lord's study to ensure that none disturbed him."
"And have you carried out your duty?" Celeborn asked. "Have you kept all who have come to see Lord Elrond out of his study?" Again the guard shifted uneasily. Celeborn smiled thinly. "I thought not." And with that, Celeborn and Galadriel swept around the rather flustered guard, and entered Elrond's office.
Yes, it was rude to not knock. Both realized this. Yet in the same moment, they could not care less. Galadriel had believed that Celebrían would seek out Elrond, and her suspicions had been proven true. Now the two parents were acting like any concerned parents would in the wake of any dangerous situation involving a child; they were acting a tad overprotective.
The study door swung shut behind the two, sealing off the room once more. Neither Elrond nor Celebrían were anywhere to be seen. Brow creasing in a frown, Galadriel stepped toward the fire, Celeborn following behind. As they drew near, Galadriel peered over the back of the couch, and stopped still.
Both Elrond and Celebrían lay upon the sofa, Celebrían's head cushioned on the elf lord's chest. One of Elrond's arms was wrapped around her shoulders. Celebrían was fast asleep, her eyes closed in a deep healing slumber. Elrond's eyes were halfway shut, although Galadriel did not think that he was truly asleep.
She was proven correct when, upon sensing Galadriel and Celeborn's presence, Elrond opened his eyes fully, glancing up at them standing over him. He blanched, realizing that the parents of the young woman he was currently holding and who was sleeping beside him were standing over them, and they were looking not precisely pleased.
As gently as he could, Elrond slid out from beneath Celebrían and off of the sofa, laying her head down on his vacated pillow. Celebrían stirred as he pulled away, and for an instant it seemed that she would awaken.
"Hush, Celebrían. Sleep now," Elrond whispered, his voice barely audible, and brushed his fingers against her cheek. Celebrían calmed, slipping back into sleep.
Galadriel exchanged glances with Celeborn. He looked none too happy, although Galadriel was relieved to see that the murderous gleam usually reserved for far-too-forward suitors was absent.
Go easy on him, Galadriel urged her husband.
Celeborn raised his eyebrows. Why should I? he asked. It seems as if he needs a lesson in propriety.
Galadriel laughed silently, her dancing eyes the only visible sign of her mirth. We were not so different from them, were we? she asked. Celeborn deigned not to answer.
Galadriel smiled softly at her husband, then looked back to Elrond, who was only just straightening. He had missed their entire exchange, but that was likely for the best.
Coming around the edge of the sofa, Elrond touched Galadriel on the elbow, indicating that they should both follow him. They did so, and he led them across his study and toward a small table that stood pushed up against the wall a few feet from his desk. A decanter of red wine sat upon the cloth covering the table, and four goblets stood in two rows.
Elrond poured two goblets of wine, one each for Galadriel and Celeborn, and then poured a third for himself. After replacing the wine on the table, he turned to face the other two.
"Nothing happened," Elrond assured them, knowing full well what it was that they wished to speak with him about, and not wanting to beat about the bush. "She was merely exhausted, and still suffering from shock."
"So you would take advantage of her weakness?" Celeborn asked, his voice hard as tempered steel.
Elrond looked aghast. "Never!" he exclaimed, a little more vehemently than he had perhaps intended, for he quickly glanced toward the sofa where Celebrían slept on. "No," he repeated, lowering his voice as he turned back to face Celeborn, although his tone lost none of its intensity. "I would never take advantage of a woman, whether she were in a weakened state or no. You should know that, Celeborn," he added, "Or else much more has changed the past years than I had ever dreamt possible."
Celeborn sighed and swirled the wine around in his goblet. "I know that you would not," he said, and he suddenly sounded very tired. "Yet you must understand that this is my – our – daughter."
Elrond bowed his head. "I know," he said quietly. "But I love her nonetheless."
Galadriel stiffened, slightly startled. Never before, at least not to her knowledge, had Elrond spoken those words, not even when it had come to Celebrían. Now, to hear him speak thus, especially after the events of the day…
She had known, Galadriel realized; she had known, at least subconsciously, that he loved her. Yet to hear him say it aloud was something else entirely.
Celeborn, too, was slightly stunned. He had known Elrond for longer than Galadriel had, having been in camp with Gil-galad for a number of years during the War of Wrath, along with a young Elrond who was yet only a green officer fresh out of training. Thus Celeborn knew well that Elrond was not one to share his feelings freely, usually safeguarding his heart and his thoughts carefully and savagely.
"Please, Lord Celeborn…" Celeborn's gaze turned to Elrond once more, not entirely sure of what was to come. Elrond rarely used the title of "Lord" for him unless they were in a formal setting. "…I wish to ask your permission to court your daughter. I admit," and here he laughed derisively, "This was not precisely the way in which I intended to ask…" He fell silent, unsure of what else to say.
Celeborn was silent. He looked to Galadriel, questioning what she thought of the matter, but she merely smiled serenely. This was his decision, not hers, or so the custom dictated. Celeborn looked back to Elrond, who was watching him carefully, looking for any sign that would give the younger elf a hint as to what Celeborn was thinking.
"Very well," Celeborn said brusquely. "You have my permission, and my blessing." Elrond bowed deeply, a blossoming smile spreading across his face. "But Elrond," Celeborn added, and this time his voice was a warning, "If you hurt her, or break her heart…" He trailed off, knowing that Elrond understood what he had left off. If you hurt her, or break her heart, you will have me to answer to.
Elrond bowed again, although this time it was barely more than his head and his shoulders.
"I understand," he promised. "And I thank you, my lord, for both your permission and your blessing."
"Well," Galadriel finally said, stepping into the conversation, "Now that that has been settled, perhaps we can fulfill our original purpose for coming here tonight." She smiled as she turned to Elrond. "Thank you, Elrond, for saving Celebrían today." Celeborn nodded his head in agreement.
"We are in your debt," he added.
Elrond smiled slightly and shook his head.
"Nay, no need to thank me, and do not think that you owe me anything. You do not. If anything, it is I who am still repaying my many debts to the two of you."
Galadriel lifted her wine glass. "To debts repaid, then," she proclaimed, "And to new beginnings." At that last part, she graced Elrond with a small grin.
"To new beginnings," Celeborn repeated, and lifted his goblet as well.
Three glass goblets came together with a gentle clink, the wineglasses barely touching.
"To new beginnings," Elrond whispered, and lifted the goblet to his lips.