Gandalf naturally led the procession of elven lords and ladies to the King's Hall where Lord Gróin, decked in his finest clothes lay on a black slab of polished granite, sculpted by dwarven masters of the craft. It was a monument of stark black against the golden floor.

Thráin, donning royal robes and gilded raven diadem, solemnly stood in the middle of the mammoth chamber. Restoration work ceased in that chamber while Gróin laid in state. He was surprised to see Thranduil and Celeborn among those paying respect.

Lord Elrond bowed his head deferentially and spoke for the elves. "King Thráin, on behalf of Sindar, Silvan and Ñoldor first born, please accept our condolences to you and your family for losing one as great as Lord Gróin. I fondly remember him during our summit two centuries past. He was in his prime and a chief advisor to King Thrór. He impressed me with his knowledge and am not surprised his son's achieved high positions of skill and position in your kingdom. Lord Gróin would have accepted nothing less for and from his sons. Lord Gróin spoke several languages and kept notes for the king during our summit. Young Ori reminds me much of him. I'm sure he was a pillar in Ered Luin for his knowledge and leadership and a comfort to your kin and you."

Thráin waited a space to see if Elrond was done and replied formally in Khuzdul Elrond that addressed him. "Thank you, Lord Elrond, for accurately describing Lord Gróin and doing so in flawless Khuzdul. Gróin led many times when he found himself without equal in the west whenever Thorin or I were absent. He would have inherited the line of Durin should my father's not been established."

"I met with him and Lord Garad to discuss moving dwarves to Erebor," Círdan added in flawless Khuzdul, drawing another smile from Thráin, for he remembered his first meeting with this elf and his surprise when Khuzdul was spoken to him.

Thráin's smile morphed into a grin at the tall elf. "I remember my surprise when you spoke my language to me in Dunland when first we met."

Círdan bowed his silver head in acknowledgement that he also retained the memories.

The elves viewed the body, spoke graciously with Thráin and departed. Stopping before the massive doors, Galadriel placed a manicured hand on Celeborn's arm. "Arwen and I are visiting the market."

'I'll not have you and our daeriell alone with so many cutthroats,' he quickly snapped in her mind.

Galadriel's patience waned at his first words and she spoke aloud. "Don't start that with me, Celeborn. Send your guards if you must, but keep them out of our way, for we plan a good time."

The lords smirked at Celeborn as they passed the glaring couple, now facing off and a battle of wills that spanned more than six thousand years and was as natural to them as breathing.

"Arwen's safety is your responsibility," he conceded through clenched teeth and stalked into the sunlight without a backwards glance, leaving the two elleth staring at his back.

"Daeradar is mad at you," Arwen observed.

"And as always, he will recover and be my loving husband by suppertime," Galadriel replied with a fond glance out the doors and moved towards the sounds only a marketplace could emit. The festive air of the place drew lifted their spirits from the sobriety of the viewing, and Galadriel noticed their six escorts included Lords Erestor and Glorfindel, and would be sure to reward them with a trinket from this bustling marketplace.

Thráin nodded in greeting, but didn't waste unnecessary words when Dáin Ironfoot came to relieve him and stand a four hour shift. This would go on until Gróin's sealing. Thráin included the youngsters, Gimli and Thorin Stonehelm in the visitation hours from dawn 'til dusk. Guards would be placed during night hours. He went looking for Balin and found his advisor sorting mail from Bilbo in his office.

Balin looked around when a knock pounded against the jamb of the open door. "Ah, your majesty, I have a letter from Bilbo for you." He handed the carefully folded yellow parchment with wax seal to the king.

"Send word ta the elves that I'll not meet today an will resume our negotiating tomorrow. Those wishing ah tour are invited ta dine with us for supper first."

Balin with his ever present smile nodded.

"Any other business I need ta take care of?" Thráin asked.

"No, I haven't heard screaming complaints from the families of your choices and no news is good news," Balin joked.

"I'm sure they are waiting ta waylay me on my way ta my office or just stab me in the back when I go ta my chambers," Thráin jovially replied in the same joking tone. "I'll be hiding in my office should another dragon come. Anything less than ah dragon, ye an the lads take care of it. I'm going ta sit quietly an read until I have ta get ready for tonight. This crown is giving me ah headache an it's coming off until later."

Balin sobered and returned his gaze. "I think the choices you have to make is the cause of your pain and not the finest crafting our dwarves produced in making that crown."

"Maybe so, but I cannot please everyone hoping their daughter would get Thorin. Speaking of which, did Thorin do as I requested?"

Balin laughed heartily. "Reluctantly m'lord. Per your request, he will make the announcement just before noon and everyone is now gathering below the balcony and eagerly awaiting our next princess. Your ban on the lords spilling the chosen lass's identity and subsequent punishment has kept everyone mum."

"This is Thorin's moment an I'm laying low," Thráin confided. "The same was done when I announced that Lis was accepted by me an the family on that same balcony."

Balin smiled and nodded in remembrance. "Aye, I was on the landing with you. As a show of support for Lis, we all convened, except for the king and queen. It was your moment to step out on your own with a future wife. Thorin needs to do the same. I do remember during the cheering your parents coming from the room behind the balcony and hugging Lis and your father making a brief statement he approved."

Thráin looked sheepish he was caught out. "I was hoping nobody remembered that. Thorin's announcement is ah tad different. He will draw an even larger crowd, mostly of those placing wagers. I'll keep my door open so I can hear the announcement."

"It would mean a lot to Thorin for your support," Balin spoke quietly, but Thráin received the message all the same.

"Okay, I'll make a quick entrance an hug the lass an say ah couple of words."

Happy, Balin called out for his new valet and secretary, "Eket." When the dwarf entered his office, he handed a stack of letters to him. "Find the recipients and hand these out. Send Lord Dwalin to inform the elves today's meeting is canceled. Make sure you tell him not to leave before the announcement because he has to be on the balcony with Thorin."

Eket glanced at the sealed letters and saw names on the front of each. "Aye, Lord Balin."

Thráin grabbed a book and ventured onto his private balcony while Piket followed with a tea pot. He waited on Thráin and left the king with his book and thoughts.

Thráin flipped to the place he had marked. It seemed so long since he journeyed to the land of yester-years elves. Mentally, he found his place and remembered he finished the tale of young Arwen and how Queen Ríllas and she out foxed the twins and Elrohir was forced to sit in the family chambers and embroidery a handkerchief, which he framed and presented to his little sister. He would remember to ask her tonight of the event, or Elrohir, should the opportunity present itself. He thumbed through a book until finding the chapter he was searching; a love story to put him in the mood for upcoming events.

Into The Incestual Breach Once More

I, Erestor, have the great honor of penning the love story between Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrían. If Elrond wanted to slip the clutches of an incestuous marriage, wedding his third and fifth cousin wasn't the way to go. Celebrían, like her parents, married her third cousin. However, the Valar smiled and blessed the union; at least that's what Glorfindel reported back to us.

This story is a short one included in amongst many detailing external events in the lives of Elrond and Celebrían and their meetings over fifteen hundred years that finally culminated in marriage. Elrond penned volumes of sentimental prose and poetry for his beloved during that millennia and a half. He was fleeting, however, on details of travel and memories he would rather forget.

The Battle of Dagorlad was over and King Gil-galad with his sub-commanders, Elendil, Celeborn, Círdan, Amroth, Thranduil and Elrond pushed the enemy forces back to the Black Gate, where Sauron suffered defeat and almost annihilation of his armies. They were joined by the newest members of leadership to take their place in that august group; Amroth, son of Amdír because his father was slain during the last battle and remains now part of the Dead Marshes and Thranduil, whose father suffered similar fate. Those marshes stretched a length of fifty miles in length and five miles abreast. Bodies lay unburied and over time sucked ever downwards in black, fertile soil with water ascending over their remains. Sauron's forces found death alongside those warriors of the last alliance and together they rested and haunted the area that became known as the Dead Marshes. We only recovered King Oropher's body.

After pushing Sauron's forces back to Barad-dûr, stronghold of Sauron in Mordor, the two armies were entrenched for the next seven years. Two armies, evenly matched at half a million souls each; elves, men and dwarves against the black forces of Sauron, battled for seven years in what is known as the Siege of Barad-dûr. The final leaders to fall at the Black Gate were Gil-galad and Elendil within minutes of each other at the final battle where Sauron was destroyed. That night, the remaining lords met in the tent of Gil-galad.

Elrond stood and spoke. "Gil-galad always told me I was his heir, but I cannot lead elves that are a millennia my senior and more. The time of elven kings is over. We each will be lords of our kingdoms, but I will not rule over you."

There was silence and Celeborn and Círdan nodded they agreed. King Durin IV of Khazad-dûm, forever an elf friend spoke. "Lord Elrond, ye have been the fairest of all elves towards us and if not for yer presence, I would have remained behind stone walls. If ever ye take the High Mantel, count the dwarves as yer greatest supporters."

Elrond looked like he wanted to hug the short, dwarven king.

Thranduil, who had been king for less than a decade, spoke arrogantly. "I now hold title of High King. I shall rule you." He glanced at Amroth. "I believe my adar predates yours as king."

Amroth snorted in disdain. "He predates my adar by one month."

Thranduil shrugged and smiled arrogantly. In the background, I heard the lass, Ríllas, screaming at Thranduil to hang himself with orc entrails or she would do it for him.

The two newest kings started a shouting match at once and I feared Thranduil's brief reign would end that night with a kinslaying, because Círdan pulled his sword and started around the table, only to be stayed by Glorfindel's hand reaching out and snagging his arm as he passed.

Elrond motioned to me and I blew on my horn, quieting the forty elven lords crowded in the large tent. When everyone went silent, Elrond decreed, "Thranduil, you may be called king, but among elves, you are considered a lesser lord, as is Amroth. You are equal to King Amroth and are recognized as independent kingdoms, separate from the alliance formed at the end of the First Age of this world. You both shall be under the guidance of Lord Celeborn, for he is much wiser than either of you. If you don't agree, I will take the mantel of High King and force you into an alliance with me and I will want tribute."

Both of the newest kings clammed up while Círdan laughed and returned to his seat and Celeborn smirked at them and told Elrond he accepted rule over the youngsters, his words.

Elrond naturally took charge of the meeting. "Reports from our scout's state Mordor is in a state of chaos and no sign of King Amdír's body was ever found in the low lands. It is estimated there are four hundred thousand bodies scattered across fifty miles. It is feared the king's body has already been sucked down into the muck and covered with water. I say let them rest in peace." He looked at Glorfindel. "When next you visit the Valar, ask if the burial place of King Amdír is their decree."

Glorfindel nodded and all eyes turned to the next speaker.

"What about the bodies of Elendil and Gil-galad?" Isildur asked, while stroking the band of gold in his palm that he couldn't put down.

"We will pack Gil-galad in salt and return him to Mithlond for burial," Círdan replied.

"And we will do the same for my father," Isildur declared loudly, not wanting the elves to outdo the efforts of men. "He will lay in perpetuity in a white marble tomb in the center of Gondor. His deeds in battle will be etched in stone for all generations to remember the War of the Last Alliance."

It was upon Isildur's title that history recorded this war and it is forever the War of the Last Alliance.

"What about the dead that lay before the Black Gate?" I asked and all heads turned briefly to me and then to our leaders.

"Take them to rest with those in the forming marshes," Celeborn ordered and all listened to his wisdom and nobody dissented.

Thranduil surprised everyone after his failed ploy to become High King. "My soldiers will carry out that task and allow those of you living across the mountains extra time to return home. I'm assuming Elrond will escort Gil-galad's body to the sea before returning to Imladris?" He looked at Elrond while asking.

All eyes turned to Elrond. I noticed for the first time, the grime coating his skin and clothes. I looked down and was covered in the same filth, as was everyone in the tent. We all needed baths, which wasn't to come until reaching the broad Anduin.

Elrond unconsciously reached up and fingered the diamond starlight gems at his throat; an act he performed many times a day and we knew he was thinking of her. His eyes shifted to Celeborn while he spoke. "Yes, I will escort Gil-galad to the sea and return home to Imladris for a break before starting the next chapter of my life."

The next part is written by Elrond.

I continued where Erestor left off in the meeting that night after destroying Sauron. "We will break camp tomorrow and I beg our dwarven friends to stay for a few days and scour the other side of the Black Gate and write a report to me."

Durin IV replied. "Aye, we will kill any foul thing still standing or crawling."

I offer the remnant of what's left of my army to assist," Isildur offered.

I wasn't sure that was wise and shook my head no. "I trust the dwarves to route any foe we missed. Besides, Amroth and Thranduil will still be here to assist him. You go home and bury your father."

I waited with baited breath for his answer. Finally my human kin acquiesced and I could breathe again. I have no doubt if he denied me again after refusing to destroy the ring; I would have ended his reign on the spot.

"A wise decision, Isildur," Glorfindel spoke up for the first time and I knew it would have been he that welded the sword.

I continued, hoping Isildur missed the connotations of our comments, "Our first stop will be Caras Galadhon. From there we will push over the Pass of Caradhras, down the Khazad-dûm road to the Greenway and on to Lindon." I paused and looked around at those crowded into the tent. "I'm done. Does anyone have anything to add?" I hoped not, for I was exhausted and unsure I could make my cot. I looked around and Gil-galad's bed drew me like one of Celebrían's kisses. Looking at the cot, a pang of sorrow flooded my fëa and I felt a tear trail down a cheek. Nobody had spoken and when I looked around, the tent was empty, save my loyal friends, Erestor and Glorfindel.

Erestor started taking my armor off and I let him, although I knew he fought as valiantly and hard as I did. I don't remember him helping me to the cot and knew nothing until late morning. The large camp didn't look like a tent city any longer. Tents were dismantled and wagons carted our dead away to be claimed by the marsh. Forgoing food, I mounted my faithful steed and trotted down a long line of weary warriors to take my place at the head of the column between Círdan and Celeborn. Already the air was filled with the odor of burning orcs and I longed to be far away from the foul stench by nightfall. My heart was heavy and I didn't speak all that day. To my relief, neither did my traveling companions. We were all lost in remembrance of friends lost and relief the war was finally over.

It took two weeks of long days to traverse an orc road through the dry, sparse grass lands before turning onto an elven road running between Lothlórien and Dol Guldur. We stopped for the night at river's edge and had our first baths in what seemed like years. I jumped into the cold water wearing my clothes, only stopping to shed armament and boots. For the first time, my fëa lifted like sun breaking through dense fog; first at the cleansing of my body and also with the knowledge on the morrow I would see my eternal love.

Beside me, Celeborn was also wringing out wet clothes he entered the river wearing. He saw me staring and snarled, "This is just the first dip. I'm spending hours in the heated pool before joining my wife in our bed for at least a month."

My face burned at the thought of lying next to Celebrían in like manner. My fëa longed to join with hers on one hand shied away on the other. With his vision narrowed on me, I knew he felt my mercurial fëa. "With your permission, Celeborn, I would beg off a wedding until my home is ready for a bride. You know we left it in a mess with all those armies loitering for years."

Celeborn's eyebrows rose in shock at my obvious lie. "You've had fifteen hundred years to ready for a wife. What needs to be done?"

Daring to look him in the eyes, honesty overcame my shame. "This war wearied me. Sometimes I think I made a mistake waiting to marry for so long, but didn't want to make her a widow after so short of time being a wife. We will now have a time of peace and I can focus on her alone; first with courting and then marriage." I knew what my fëa longed for and wasn't to be pressured.

"I'm beginning to think you don't wish marriage, Elrond," he sternly replied. "Maybe I should allow Fálmar his turn."

Again, my face burned red; this time in anger and I looked around for the presumptuous elf that would steal my love. "Keep him away from her, or I'll do a kinslaying," I vowed with conviction.

Celeborn grinned, showing a row of even, white teeth. "I didn't think you could do more than whimper like a kicked pup around my daughter. If you want her; I want to see some fire in your fëa or you'll never get near her again. I wouldn't allow a half-bred mongrel like you around her in the first place, except my wife seems to like you and I like intimacy with her. Maybe I'll push Amroth or Thranduil in her direction. Either would be better than a kinslaying Ñoldor, like you."

I knew better, but the taunting in his tone made me an elfling being teased by pure elven boys all over again. With a Quenya curse, I pushed him into the deeper part of the river and jumped on his head, intending on drowning the rat; my Ñoldor kinslayer roots overpowering the Sindar in me. Celeborn held his breath and being stronger than me, soon reversed our positions and it was me being held under, dying for a breath. I came up gasping when he finally allowed me a breath of sweet air.

"I'll go to war against you if you allow Celebrían to walk with another," I screamed, not caring I was on the losing end of a physical match and also unaware we had drawn a crowd of very entertained elves. A splash in our faces from a stick had us turning to the bank.

Círdan seemed to be paying off a bet because Glorfindel and Taíban had their hands out while Erestor was imploring us to act like the lords we were.

I swam out into the current to cool off and put distance between us. The next morning, garbed once again in stiff, sun dried clothes, we swam our horses across the river and loped to Caras Galadhon. Horns sounded when the first horse reached dry land and the entire city was present when Celeborn loped into paddock and flew off his horse. I stayed in my saddle to watch his reunion with Galadriel and Celebrían. I yearned to push Celeborn out of the way and feel her soft curves against me and sweet lips devouring mine, but forced restraint of a mature elf and told the elfling inside me to take a break. Galadriel received the first kiss that lasted longer than any I ever saw them exchange, while their daughter hugged him tightly; her eyes searching over his armor clad shoulder until they spotted me.

She pushed away from her father and took one step in my direction. Before I could dismount, Celeborn, that rat, broke his kiss and pulled Celebrían into his arms and her attention was taken from me.

In disgust, I dismounted and stalked to them. Celebrían forcibly broke from her father's arms and rushed into mine where I knew she belonged and my heart sang with joy. My lips met the softest ones in Middle Earth and I felt like I came home at long last. All too soon, hands pulled me from my love and Glorfindel was claiming the next hug and chaste kiss to his cheeks. I learned later that Celeborn was drawing his sword; ready to skewer me, for my hands rose automatically to cup my beloved's breasts while we greeted and Glorfindel stepped in and saved what was sure to be a humiliating moment for me.

"I need to bathe," I lamely stated the obvious and felt my ears burn that the first words in over seven years brought attention to my disheveled state.

Saving me, Galadriel stepped into my personal space and greeted me with a kiss to each cheek. "Go and soak away the years of battle, Elrond. Take my husband with you; for he is as ripe as you. A feast is being prepared and sad songs of sorrow will haunt our community for all the souls in Mandos' Halls and songs of thanks will follow the war is finally at an end. When you take King Gil-galad to the sea, many of our elves will accompany you and sail to the undying lands. I am grateful the Valar spared me this moment, but my time to sail will come. Another chapter of Middle Earth is starting and our roles will be most crucial."

I looked around for Celebrían and saw her greeting many of the survivors. I grabbed Celeborn's arm. "We've been ordered to the baths before being expelled from your kingdom for stench worthy of an orc."