Xxxxxxxxx Summer Solstice 3021 end of the Third Age xxxxxxxxX
Elladan and Elrohir stood handing out golden Calendula blossoms to the mixed line of elves and men. To many, this was their first time experiencing the ancient tradition. The new leaders of Imladris grinned as they helped the boys and girls display the traditional summer blossoms in their hair or pinned through buttonholes in their shirts. The line snaked along the large meadow and down towards the gardens.
"May we be of help my Lords?" Gwaefaer and her brother Eruingal bowed. Earlier in the morning, there was a public ceremony where Elrond officially relinquished his duties to his sons.
"Please, not so formal," Elladan begged.
"But we would be glad of your help," Elrohir added. Together, four of them helped speed the bestowing of the summer blossoms. The fortuitous blooms signified blessings of health throughout the year.
The Galadhrim were gathered on the far side of the lawn, where their Lady was explaining the Solstice traditions to those enjoying their first visit to the Last Homely House. Some were quick to join the line. Glorfindel watched Celeborn leave his Lady's side and come down to seek refreshments. The silver Lord poured two glasses of the summer wine. But Glorfindel stepped forward before the elf had put down the bottle and smoothly grabbed one of the two newly filled glasses.
"Thank you. That was most gracious of you, Lord Celeborn." He smiled, raised his glass, then sipped contentedly.
"Little wonder Mandos threw you back." Celeborn returned amiably as he shook his head. Only inside did he let his annoyance show, which prompted his dear wife to gift him her laughter mind-to-mind. "Tis his charm that prompts Elrond to keep him around." Her melodious voice intoned. Then he said aloud to the cheeky elf beside him. "I am surprised you have decided to remain. I believed that you would depart with Elrond."
"Some of Turgon's line yet remains among elves," Glorfindel simply stated. Elladan and Elrohir had yet to state their choice. "Your arrival was long overdue. We were worried your Lady and your people had changed their minds about sailing."
"Lothlórien was loathed to release my Lady." Celeborn intoned cryptically. Glorfindel looked back to where the ethereal golden lady stood among her people.
"Lothlórien," Glorfindel repeated as understanding dawned in his eyes. "Yet the power of the rings faded when the One was destroyed."
"Celembrior's rings had an unnatural connection over their respective elements. Their power indeed faded. Yet they forged strong connections between their bearers and the environment. Lothlórien continued to draw through the ring." Celeborn paused to sip at the wine. His calm words betrayed none of the horror of watching his wife slowly fade as the land siphoned her essence or of the shock and pain when she passed through the borders of their land. Of this, he vowed, never to speak. "Imladris still retains some protections and its fabled welcoming and rejuvenating air. Can you not sense its origin?"
Glorfindel closed his eyes and focused on their surroundings. He did not sense the dominating aura of Vilya. That had always been easy for him to detect, trained as he was to note its metallic twang. Yet, a subtle power gently nurtured life here, be it plants, animals, or people. Celeborn's voice startled him. "You sense it. It is much more subtle than his ancestor's renowned curtain and focused on the direct well-being of the inhabitants, not as much on strategic barriers, for that is beyond his power. I think it has always been his way, whether he knows it or not. Yet, the strengthened connection gave him new ideas and greater skill to direct this gift."
"What will happen?" Glorfindel now worried for his dear friend.
"I can not say." Celeborn shrugged. "But it would be prudent to stay close." Glorfindel tipped his head in acknowledgment and parting and followed the path down to where Elrond moved among his folk. The Peredhel talked to a large family, whom Glorfindel recognized as Anorlach, and four generations of his kin. The elf was once a soldier during the last alliance but had settled down as a farmer in Imladris. Elrond was greeting the newest of Anorlach's descendants, a new great-granddaughter who was only a few summers old. Her older sister barely passed her majority. The Peredhel laughed and moved to take off his circlet, handing it to the awe-struck child, who held it with glee. Before Glorfindel could approach Elrond, Lindir stepped forward and bowed to their Lord.
"I am no longer Lord of the valley." Elrond reminded him. "I am now just a simple traveler going west."
"I would be hard-pressed to call you a simple traveler, my Lord." Lindir smiled, and Anorlach concurred as his granddaughter handed Elrond the circlet with words of thanks. "But a little bird told me that you very much enjoyed joining the musicians, which you have not done in an age. Forgive me if I am too bold, but I doubt you will have much chance to enjoy such things in the West, for you may have other responsibilities and duties there. Would you like to join us?" Elrond looked momentarily stunned.
"Who told you? One of my councilors?" Elrond asked, but Lindir merely shrugged. "I have no instrument."
"This one was sent to my group to be packed with the other instruments for the journey west." He held out a silver harp. "I was intrigued, never having seen it before, and took the liberty of restringing and tuning it. I know you packed the other instruments and many gifts for your family in Gondor. But if rumors are to be believed, this belongs to you." Elrond reached over to the instrument.
"Aye, it is mine, a gift from Gil-Galad," Elrond said softly as he accepted the instrument.
"Is it true that you played in a group in Mithlond?"
"That he can neither confirm nor deny." Glorfindel laughed. "Go join them, Elrond. It is a fitting way to bid farewell to the valley." The Peredhel indeed followed Lindir to the Gazebo where the musicians were gathering. If the ensemble was surprised by the addition of their Lord, they did not show it and quickly welcomed him into the group. It was easy to see that Elrond enjoyed the warm-up time. They rearranged the songs they planned on performing to put melodies that Elrond was familiar with into the first set. Glorfindel watched over his charge with delight. Indeed, when Elladan approached to ask for his Adar, he was proud to point out the harpist in the back row, who swayed slightly in time to the music as his cheeks flushed with pleasure.
"He played in private for us when we were very small. I did not know that he enjoyed performing."
"Your Adar and Gil-Galad would sneak out in disguise in Mithlond. Unknowingly, I enjoyed their performances several times." Glorfindel was happy to divulge. After the first set, Elrond thanked the other musicians and took his leave, setting his harp down to collect later. Glorfindel was quick to greet him and to offer him a glass of wine.
"You should take it with you on the journey. A song always brightens the spirit." Glorfindel suggested. "Besides, I doubt carrying an extra small harp would burden your steed much." Elrond paused as he sipped his wine.
"I shall follow your wise advice." Elrond smiled as Glorfindel nearly choked on his drink.
"You will have to repeat that to your sons!" As the hours passed, the musical repertoire included more songs, which drew the inhabitants to dance. Galadhrim tunes, Dúnedain dances, and traditional songs of the valley drew different groups in and out of the circle to dance and sing. Musicians from Lothlórien took up their instruments, first striking up the syncopated beat of the Lithir. For a time, the Ellyth of Lothlórien took over the circle. The swish of their skirts augmented the beat of the ancient dance while Ellon stood by mesmerized and Edain looked on enchanted. Perhaps this would be the last Solstice where elves outnumbered men, for times were changing. Departure was but days away. Bredeli and Anhen rang the bells to gather the younger children and escort them back to the Great Hall for stories and song and finally bed. It was a fond memory of childhood to gather for the celebration. The adults celebrated until far after midnight.
Xxxxxxxxx Several days later xxxxxxxxxX
Dawn crept slowly over the sheets, illuminating her spun gold hair. Her eyes were closed in exhaustion, a sight far too familiar this last year. He smoothed a wayward golden strand away from her cheek and kissed her lightly. She sighed at his touch but did not wake. He nearly woke her for their time together was at an end. Every stolen moment was precious. They had basked in each other's love last night. Three ages of this world was not enough – could never be long enough time to spend with her. They had been parted at times over the years. But they always felt the strength of their shared connection. The journey west would break that bond.
"We should not have returned to Lothlórien after the wedding. We might have had a few years more." He lamented. Her songs of power had helped to reduce the remaining ruins of Dol Goldur to rubble. Even Thranduil produced words of praise for Galadriel at that momentous accomplishment. But he could feel what it had cost her spirit. While he supported her all he could through their bond, the effort had drained precious pieces of her soul. Then, with the ring's power nearly gone, the connection to Lothlórien siphoned yet further strength from her very essence as the sea longing surged to desperate heights. To stay in these lands was but a death sentence to her. Change was coming to Lothlórien. Plants had grown dependent on the power of Nenya and would slowly die, giving way to nature's everlasting cycle, which would replenish the woods with new growth. It would be the same here in Imladris, though few here cared to acknowledge it.
"Beloved." Her voice sang in his mind. He bent to kiss her swollen lips, a consequence of their prior activities. A smile lit on his lips as he felt her desire. "Is there time?"
"We will find time and privacy on the road and later in Mithlond, I think." He whispered against her lips before delving in for a prolonged kiss. Her eyes closed in bliss as he wrapped his spirit around hers. He could fill the holes in her spirit and support her for a time, but that time was fast-waning. He ran his hands over her glorious face, then down her neck and along her exquisite frame, then followed the same path with his lips. Such precious minutes left!
Xxxxxxxx
Elrohir watched the procession across the Bruinen. He planned to ride at the rear with Silsilalda and Bilbo. He was suddenly aware that many eyes were focused on the Bruinen. He realized it was his father's horse crossing the river. Elrond shimmered on its back. The wind whipped his grey coat and dark hair while the water frothed upwards. Celthúl seemed caught, his front legs dangling in the air as if he was frozen for a minute like a statue. He heard a low whisper from his Adar, and it was as if a dam broke, and power-like water flowed in a burst of bright white followed by a tinge of blue. Wind and water calmed suddenly. Had he imagined a chorus of cries? Gasps from others told him it could not be just his imagination. Astonishment kept him rooted to a spot. But Glorfindel and Cirulian seemed to have anticipated the event. They now surrounded Elrond, who seemed a ghost, pale and translucent in the bright sunlight but for his short, stifled groans. Celeborn called out reassuringly, bidding the company to keep moving. Light glinted off golden hair as Galadriel disappeared around the bend.
"Adar?" Elrohir wanted to guide his horse back, but the path was too narrow to pull beside them.
"He needs time to recover Elrohir," Glorfindel whispered. "It is good that your brother agreed to remain. The special protections of the valley will fade."
"I do not understand." Elrohir was stunned. He thought the protections had been slowly fading since Frodo's accomplishment.
"Later," Cirulian grumbled a sure signal that the conversation was over. The Teler spoke softly to Elrond's steed. Celthúl, though fast like his namesake, was quite different in that he was well-trained. Both Cirulian and Glorfindel took pains to train him once they realized that Elrond was at times too weary to control the fiery steed. The three riders continued forward.
"Ride with us, Elrohir." Erestor, his wife Gwidian, and Bilbo splashed across the Bruinen.
"I packed some Aurcram and cream. Do you think we might stop for a second breakfast?" Bilbo was asking Erestor. The hobbit rode a grey pony.
"How did you know that those are Adar's favorite?" Elrohir smiled as Bilbo's brow furled in concentration. The hobbit was obviously calculating if he had packed enough to share with so many elves. "Fear not, Master Baggins, I am not given to second breakfasts. But I would be very grateful if you offered one to my father later. You might succeed in coaxing a smile from him."
"Of course, my dear Elrohir! I should be glad to be of service." Bilbo was enthused at the prospect. "I wonder if any of my dwarven friends would have believed that I could be of service to the Lord of Imladris."
"I am sure they are smiling down at us now," Gwidian commented. Erestor gave her a thankful look. They were also leaving their children in Imladris. Gwidian's parents numbered among the Avari and never thought to travel west. She was apprehensive about what type of welcome awaited her in those lands.
"It was good of you to come with us," Erestor said softly to Elrohir. "I know that your Adar appreciates it. It is hard for him to leave."
"Elladan and I thought it would be better if at least one of us traveled with him to the haven." Earlier that morning, Elrond and Elladan said their farewells. It was made more difficult because neither knew if they would ever see each other again, for their choice was not yet made. Elrohir thought back on his Adar's words from that morning. "Please know that I am very proud of you. I know you will chose with wisdom and grace. Ultimately, you must be content with yourselves and your choice."
"Did you know what would happen when Adar left the valley?"
"Celeborn warned us. I can only assume that Galadriel experienced something similar when the connection between Lothlórien and Nenya was broken." Erestor's voice was low. But it was liberating to talk about the rings openly. For millennia, it had been forbidden. "And no, I do not think you should ask her directly." In response, Elrohir held his hand over his heart and protested.
"Erestor! I am shocked that you think I am not diplomatic! You and Adar trained me yourselves." His eyes, though, glinted mischievously.
"I did not say anything of the sort. However, I doubt you will use your diplomatic words with your Grandmother."
Elrohir did not get to exchange words with his Grandparents that morning. The light lengthened and blossomed into noon as the road meandered through the hilly terrain. Sometimes, the path kept them moving in single file, though their numbers meant the line went on for more than a mile. Small clearings gave riders a chance to pause while others passed. To his chagrin, Cirulian waved him on past where Glorfindel was tending to Adar. It was nearing noon when the company halted on a broader meadow. A small fire had already started when the last of their numbers drew close. Galadriel and Celeborn spoke to the former council of Lothlórien. Lord Angon, the former Seneschal, spoke softly to Haldir, the March warden. What life awaited them all in the West, he wondered? Would his Adar even survive the journey overseas?
His Daernaneth suddenly looked up, meeting his eyes steadily. "Hope," her voice intoned directly in his mind. We have hope that life continues in the West, that healing may be found there, and eventually joy. Go to him. He needs you. He needs time to recover. I will keep others away."
Elrohir turned back to see his Adar dismounting. Celthúl was already nuzzling his master's hair, obviously looking for his prize. Elrond did not disappoint. He pulled an apple from the saddlebag and offered it to Celthúl with praise and thanks. One of the squires came forward to help Elrond, who seemed surprised by the gesture. The elf led the contented stallion away for a drink while somewhat dazed Elrond scanned the meadow. Elrohir suddenly realized his Adar was looking for a quiet place to rest.
"Over here, Adar." He smiled and was exceedingly pleased to see his Adar smile in return. "There is a great oak at the meadow's far end, which has a soothing song." Elrohir grasped his Adar's shoulder as they walked across the bustling field. Elves parted before them. Many stepped forward with words of thanks and admiration to their beloved Lord. Previously, only a chosen few had known of Vilya and the great burden carried by their Lord; however, rumors had abounded about the origins of Imladris' special protections. Now, with the events of the morning, it was common knowledge.
"Are you in pain Adar?" Elrohir whispered.
"Do not worry, Elrohir." Elrond waved his depreciatingly. "I have been through worse."
"That does not make me feel any better, Ada." Elrohir caught his breath as he caught sight of the glinting sapphire, which was now plain to see on his Adar's hand. The exquisite white stone of Nenya set in mithril had been visible on Daernaneth's finger since she had first entered Imladris weeks ago. Would Mithrandir's ruby ring of fire also soon be visible?
"How did Bilbo fair on the journey?" Elrond looked around but could not see the hobbit.
"Remarkably well, although he would have preferred a stop for a second breakfast. Over the last half hour, he was being too tired."
"That is to be expected. Perhaps I should go tend to him." They had paused by the base of the oak tree.
"Mithrandir was with him. Let us sit down and rest." Elrohir suggested as he gently pulled his Adar to sit beside him. "I think they will join us shortly. I let slip that vanilla Aurcram are your favorite. He was worried that he did not pack enough to share." Elrond smiled slightly and shook his head. His eyes closed as he leaned back against the sympathetic oak's trunk.
"Thank you, ion-nin," Elrond whispered, although Elrohir doubted the thanks were for his words to Bilbo. He heard the tree's song echo against the strains of a far older melody in his mind. The congruent tunes were filled with disparate emotions. He heard both joy and sorrow. Some voices were aggressive, while others were nurturing. He felt a power surround them and could detect how his father's spirit mixed and drew aid from the tunes. He nearly gasped when Glorfindel grabbed his hand. It was as if the golden elf could see through him to the depths of his soul.
"You sense it." Glorfindel's words would have confused anyone standing near. But Elrohir merely nodded in confirmation and wondered if the Vanya understood exactly what he felt. Elrond, though, appeared to be deeply asleep.
"What is this music?"
"The songs of the Maiar are woven into the echoes of the Ainulindalë." Glorfindel paused.
"You hear it too?" Elrohir stuttered.
"Not like you. For I am but a simple elf," Glorfindel paused at Elrohir's snort of disbelief, "though I have the advantage of having been trained by the Maiar. But you, from the line of Melian, have a drop of kinship with those that sung the Ainulindalë. Arwen's Maiar heritage awoke in Lothlórien several hundred years old. Perhaps you will go through something similar."
"Adar helped her deal with the changes then." Elrohir paused, leaving his concern unspoken. Glorfindel understood enough.
"No, your Adar can not stay. But the Avari who helped him remain in these lands and Radagast the Brown."
"Why now?" Elrohir wondered, pushing from his mind that he somehow shared some kinship with the unusual wizard from the Greenwood. Instinctively, he scanned the meadow for the brilliant white light of Mithrandir. The white wizard's hat could be seen over by where the cooks were. The Istar had found Bilbo, although the hobbit's short stature meant he was quickly hidden in the crowd of elves.
"Your uncle sought help at the sea. Ossë and Uinen aided him, though they are a strange couple, to say the least." Glorfindel shivered at the memory. They quietly contemplated the possibilities until Erestor, Gwidian, and Silsilalda came carrying a covered dish and bowls with lunch. It was a simple soup, bountiful with the summer vegetables. Silsi also carried a steaming draught, obviously prepared for Elrond. The healer bent to assess the weary Peredhel. He stirred slowly and then accepted the tea.
"Did Celeborn say how long it took for the Lady to recover after they left Lothlórien?" Glorfindel asked. Elrohir's brow furled as he realized he had been intentionally kept unaware. Erestor waved his hands.
"He was vague and most unhelpful only noting that Elrond should be recovered before we reach Breeland."
"Bree?" Elrohir whistled. "That it yet some days off."
"We are progressing as planned. We will be in Mithlond with a week or two to spare." Erestor predicted.
"I do not understand what is so important about sailing with the first autumn tides." Gwidian asked.
"The favorable tides and winds will take several weeks off our journey," Glorfindel answered. "That can make a big difference as each ship can only carry so much clean water and food."
"How long does the journey take?"
"My only trip has been east." Glorfindel was ever the enigma. "You must write to tell me how long it takes."
"Cirdan estimated it might be fifty days or more." They all jumped at Elrond's soft voice. "I hope ships have improved and are better able to handle storms than during my last experience."
"That was nearly two ages ago!" Erestor teased. "Though you told me to remind you of that experience whenever you contemplated leaving." Gwidian uncovered a plate with a few slices of cheese, rich brown bread, and fruit. She handed it to Elrohir, who offered it to his Adar. Elrond always preferred simple foods under stress and picked a ripe strawberry from the plate. Elrohir smiled, having correctly predicted his Adar's choice.
"Now, I wish to forget, so I will willingly step onto one of Cirdan's vessels." Elrond said quietly, though his eyes flickered with mirth. Elrohir felt his fear and worry ease a bit. This circle of loyal friends was a small percentage of the elves here who cared deeply for his Adar. They would care for him on the journey west.