Celebrían eased out of bed, careful not to wake Elrond. She tucked the blankets more firmly around him. When he started to stir, she focused on sending love and comfort through their bond.
"Sleep, El-nin," She whispered when she was sure he had slipped back into a deeper sleep. Then she silently moved to get dressed. Eärendil would sail this afternoon, taking the hobbits and her Naneth to Lórien. She wanted to spend the morning with her Mother. When she walked out to the kitchen, Celebrían was surprised to see Elwing and Eärendil already sipping tea.
"Good morning Celebrían," Elwing smiled. Eärendil rose to greet her. "Will Elrond wake soon?"
"I think he should sleep for at least another hour." She accepted the offered cup of tea.
"He did not sleep well last night?" Elwing asked.
"He loved our gathering with Ereinion and his family. But I noted that he was weary. Perhaps, I should have coaxed him to leave earlier. He overexerted himself and then had trouble resting." Celebrían smiled slightly. It had been a joyous afternoon filled with song and laughter. Yet, even when she had returned from the short walk along the beach with the young family, she had noted how tired her husband was. It was clear that her return had interrupted a tense discussion between Elrond and his parents.
"It was wonderful to listen to their music. Did Gil-Galad and Elrond really slip away incognito and join the musicians?" Elwing had been surprised by the jovial comments yesterday. She thought surely that they must have been joking.
"I am not at liberty to say." Celebrían smiled but then worried when she saw the sky was beginning to brighten. "I must go now. I promised to join my grandparents at the palace for breakfast."
"We will watch over him," Elwing promised. "You will be back by mid-day." They teased her as she left. Celebrían took her leave, stepping out onto the sand as the first rays of Arien began to brighten the sky.
"Dear Elbereth, thank you for this day. Please watch over my beloved and keep my children safe." Celebrían prayed as she walked along the beach. The waves murmured comfortingly in the background. She focused on the bond with Elrond, smiling when she realized that he continued to sleep soundly. It was not long before she came to the great oak.
"Greetings!" She called out to the tree. "Thank you for caring for my husband. We take great delight in your beautiful songs." The ancient oak rustled happily in response. It was only a moment before she pushed through the strange barrier that protected this space. Two guards stood just beyond the wooded path. They bowed as soon as they saw her emerge through the barrier.
"Greetings, Lady Celebrían. May we help you?" One of the guards stepped forward.
"I am expected up at the palace."
"Yes, my Lady, Prince Falmatar informed us earlier." Colchelon stepped forward. He often guarded this youngest princess when she stayed in Alqualondë. "I am to escort you."
"Thank you." Celebrían smiled and walked with the guard. He led her through the gardens. Two familiar figures sat on the south terrace, looking towards the Swan harbor. "I think a short detour is in order." Celebrían pointed towards Elrond's grandparents. The guard nodded and walked with her over to the terrace.
"Fair morning Celebrían!" Idril greeted her with a hug. Tuor stepped forward to greet her as well.
"An auspicious day for your Naneth's trip to Lórien." Tuor commented.
"Are you joining us for breakfast too?" Celebrían asked.
"Olwë felt that your Mother would appreciate a more intimate farewell. We plan to break bread with Falmatar and his family this morning." Idril sensed some unspoken worry. Perhaps part of Elrond's gift of foresight was inherited from this grandmother. "What troubles you, my dear?"
"It could be nothing." Celebrían was suddenly unsure. But Tuor's rich laughter sounded.
"My dear, have you learned nothing from your family? We are always at your service if we can help ease your mind."
"Would you visit Elrond after breakfast?" The words left Celebrían's lips too fast. She blushed at her worry. "Yesterday was lovely but perhaps too intense. I just worry. It is probably nothing."
"It would be our pleasure," Idril assured her.
"We have not visited because we thought he needed solitude," Tuor assured her.
"Was there some discussion about events long past?" Idril guessed. Celebrían's reaction confirmed this. "Worry not, my dear. We will be discrete." Tuor agreed, then gallantly kissed his granddaughter-in-law's hand.
"Off you go dear. I do believe people are waiting for you up at the palace." Celebrían blushed, gave the golden couple her heartfelt thanks, and then followed the guard to the family wing. She knocked lightly on the entrance to the suite reserved for Arafinwë and his family and was surprised when the door opened immediately to reveal her Grandfather.
"Celebrían, you look well." Arafinwë gently embraced his beloved granddaughter. He whispered in her ear as she accepted the offered comfort and strength. "I hear Elrond is recovering slowly. Be patient, dear heart." He led her into the suite.
"I will. Thank you Daeradar." Celebrían hugged him back as he kissed her forehead. Olwë and Cévëalë had risen from the couch and came to greet her. Finrod was also there.
"Eärwen and Galadriel will be here shortly," Cévëalë reassured her. "Your Naneth sleeps much these days."
"As does Elrond," Celebrían revealed.
"You did too when you first arrived." Olwë reminded her gently. "Healing takes its own time."
"Your Uncle Galathil and his family will be arriving after Yule. We thought a short stay in the forest might be preferable to traveling directly to Lórien. Few Maiar have visited their settlements as far as we know. Where" Cévëalë waited for a moment as her great-granddaughter made the connection.
"Where many Maiar reside in Lórien." Celebrían agreed. "I think Elrond will enjoy a visit with my Uncle. Thank you!" A click sounded as the bedroom door opened and Eärwen and Galadriel emerged.
"Naneth!" Celebrían was by her side in an instant. Her mother looked as stunning as always, even in a simple white dress. Only a shimmering translucence gave away her ill health.
"Sell-nin," Galadriel enveloped her daughter in her arms and whispered softly as she anointed her head with a kiss. "You are well. My heart rejoices each time I see you. We prayed to Elbereth daily that you would be healed."
"I love you, Naneth." Was all Celebrían could say, for this was nearly the tenth time her Mother had said these words in the past few weeks. It was as if Galadriel had difficulty believing what her eyes showed her.
"Come, let us break our fast together." Eärwen gestured towards the table, which was laden with seasonal foods. Celebrían did not let go of her Naneth as they walked over to the table and greeted Cévëalë and Olwë. Arafinwë pulled the chair out for his daughter while Finrod did the same for Celebrían. Eärwen waited until her daughter was seated and raised a brow at the gentle teasing that was taking place between Finrod and Celebrian. Cévëalë led them in a prayer to Elbereth. Then they broke bread together.
"Was Adar well when you left?" Celebrían asked. She was surprised to see Naneth's eyes cloud slightly as she focused on her marriage bond. "Surely," thought Celebrían, "that connection would have been broken by the great distance that separated them and protected Valinor." She had lamented the loss of her bond to Elrond all these long years and had rejoiced at its restoration. Yet the others at the table were focused intently on her Naneth. Indeed, Arafinwë rose and went to stand behind his daughter. He gently placed his hand on her shoulder. A golden glow surrounded his hand due to sharing love and strength with Galadriel.
"I sense he is well." Galadriel's voice echoed in the ensuing silence. Her smile was suddenly imbued with the radiance she once had in Lothlórien, although it faded too quickly. Only Celebrían dared to ask the next question.
"Why did he stay?" As soon as the words left her lips, Celebrían regretted them. The others at the table astutely avoided that topic.
"He mediated long and felt it was what Eru calls him to do." Galadriel's keen eyes suddenly focused solely on her daughter. She smiled slowly. "He also wanted to keep an eye on certain Grandchildren."
Xxxxxxxxxxx
"I hear him stirring," Elwing whispered.
"It is about time." Eärendil was beginning to think he would have to leave to captain the Vingilot before seeing his son. "Perhaps we should delay our discussion. It could be that our focus on that time was difficult for him."
"Is it not better then to get it over with? I do not see why he should be so forgiving of the Fëanorians." Elwing and Eärendil talked long about this issue this morning. She rose to prepare a plate of food for their son. It was not long until he appeared. He was dressed in comfortable and warm attire that Celebrían had made for him.
"Good morning!" Eärendil greeted his son. Elrond joined them at the table, taking a seat next to his Naneth. She set a plate with bread, jams, and cheeses in front of him. Eärendil poured him a cup of tea. Elrond looked up at their intense scrutiny, his expression suddenly veiled.
"What worries you?" He astutely read their hearts.
"We wanted to speak further about your time at Himring." Elwing began slowly. Eärendil nodded in agreement. Their son shifted uneasily and put down his fork.
"I talked yesterday about the Maglor's kindness to us." Elrond began slowly.
"Do you?" she started, then shook her head. Perhaps you do not remember everything that went on in Himring."
"I do remember," Elrond said calmly, then lifted his teacup and took a sip. "What good does it do to dwell on darker memories of others from Himring? It was long ago. It does not define who I am now."
"It matters to us."
"What happened during those few years was not your fault. Why do you wish to dwell upon it? We were lucky to have had Maglor to look out for us."
"Perhaps you forgive too easily because you have forgotten what happened."
"Elven memories are long. We do not forget. But Eru asks us to forgive." Elrond stressed. "Elros began to forget after a time. That is a gift for the secondborn. The memories he recalled in his later years were better ones. If he thought about the more traumatic times, the memories were veiled. In that, I think he was fortunate."
"Ereinion shared some of what you and Elros went through during that time." Eärendil moved to sit down on the other side of his son. The Mariner's hands were clenched tightly in fists as he fought to control his emotions. Elrond's eyes widened at the revelation. "You were hurt there. It was our fault. We were not there to protect you." He trailed off as he followed Elwing's eyes, which seemed to scan her son's wrist.
"The world was a dangerous place back then. We did not understand at first, for we were very young. But your deeds and actions were necessary for the greater good. Both Elros and I understood that as we grew older." Elrond's silver eyes held compassion but became confused as Elwing stared at him. "It is time to let go of your guilt."
"You were young boys who had been used to the best of care, who had never heard a harsh word." Elwing squeezed his hand. "From Ereinion's description of you as the twenty-year-old he met in Lindon, I knew immediately that Himring had been a trial for you, whatever the history books say. The boy he described had been through far too much." Indeed, the histories only recorded that her sons were captured by Maglor and Maedhros and reported that a bond grew between Maglor and her sons, as little might be thought.
"It was a tumultuous time." Elrond's voice was soft, while his eyes were dark with memory. "Most of those who followed Feanor were tainted by that horrible oath. For it did not just target Morgoth – the oath's acceptance made it acceptable to sacrifice any who stood in the way of them from recovering their Adar's jewels. Over time, the hate and the oath made them deny the 'elvenness' of those who were not with them. The Numenorian coined the word 'dehumanize' to talk of the people of Harad's way of enslaving those they captured. Perhaps that is a fitting term. Two young Peredhil were in a perilous position. Luckily, Maglor shielded us as best as he could."
"But not always, and you were the one they targeted more often," Eärendil stated. Although Elrond turned towards him, Eärendil had the impression that he did not have his son's full attention. "Was he speaking mind-to-mind with someone else? With Celebrían perhaps?"
"It was three ages ago." Elrond sighed wearily. "Most of the Fëanorians saw Elros as the 'favorite' Peredhel, although that held danger too. They thought keeping one of us injured would make it less likely that we would try to escape. Maglor safeguarded us from the majority of the dangers. And if I could save my brother some grief…." Elrond trailed off.
"You were too young to bear it."
"I did seek a way out, much to my shame." His voice wavered at the admission, unwilling to provide any more detail. Elwing focused more closely on him.
"You did nothing wrong." Eärendil reassured him.
"No," Elrond rubbed at his temple. The word hung there momentarily as if in answer to another conversation. Eärendil looked at his wife in confusion, but she seemed to be studying their son. "Looking back on those days from this perspective, it was not so bad. I have been through far worse than we endured at Himring."
"An adult can understand and endure adversity. But you were but a child and endured. You have nothing to be ashamed of." Eärendil turned his son's head gently back towards him. "I could not be more proud that you both survived and became such amazing adults."
"Maglor came to my aid. Without him, I would not have survived."
"Yet without them, you would never have been in such a situation." Elwing's voice carried accusation and anger. Elrond sighed and squeezed her hand as if resigned to the fact that she could not accept his words.
"We can not change what happened six thousand years ago. Hate ate at the souls of the Fëanorians and changed many of them. I do not want to harbor hate. I want to build a better future. Elros and I left Himring and were adopted first by the Edain and then by Ereinion and Indiriel in Lindon. I was fortunate to have many who cared for me."
"You deserved to have many who care for you," Elwing stated in a voice of command implored. "Tell me of Himring." At first, Eärendil found himself shocked by his wife's tone, but he remembered Elwing planned and founded Gwaelindë, ruled there, settled disagreements, and negotiated trade agreements. Eärendil only slept there occasionally when the Valar gave him leave from the Vingilot. He would return to pick up a new crew, for the Valar declared that besides himself, no elf would spend too long in the proximity of the Silmaril.
"Maglor was our teacher and caregiver there." Elrond slowly shared stories, telling of the joy of learning and the small but diverse library that Maglor kept. It was surprising to think of a son of Feanor as a loremaster, teacher, and parental figure for their son.
"But was he not abusive?" Elwing whispered strangely, slowly standing and focusing more intently as her son reminisced about the good memories of one who was a demon in her nightmares.
"Nay, Maglor always tried to shield and protect us." Elrond rubbed again at his temple. Eärendil thought perhaps they should curtail this discussion. Yet his wife still pressed for more details of the horrors from Himring. He sought to change the conversation.
"Did his deeds inspire you later? Is that why you fostered so many over the years?" Eärendil asked amiably, not comprehending the change that had come over his wife, who stood rigidly and stared uninterrupted at Elrond.
"Enough." Elrond turned to face Elwing. "I think you are not willing to listen. Yes, there were difficult times in Himring. But I think you press for those details for the wrong reasons. There is no need to fuel hate. Those who hurt us have passed to Mandos and faced judgment. Maglor has dwelled in exile for ages. We are finally reunited, which is more than I ever dreamed possible. It is time to let go and forgive. It is our responsibility to reject hate, extend forgiveness, and be instruments of healing." Elrond's voice echoed as one used to having the final word. It was strange that his wife and son should have ruled so long while Eärendil had spent few years in such a capacity. He felt his wife's anger and sensed power swirling in the air. It was the raw power of Elwing the White, granddaughter of Lúthien, which demanded her unspoken request be obeyed. Eärendil sensed this as her spouse, not as one who had Maiar blood. Suddenly, he realized that some speech was occurring beyond his hearing. He rose in alarm as he felt another power, this one patient but firm, an immovable azure-tinged force that centered about his son.
"No, for the tenth time, the answer is no," Elrond spoke calmly, although he rose from the chair. His breakfast was untouched and long forgotten. "I do not wish to share through Ósanwë. I wish to speak about this aloud as an elf. Remember, I am not one of the Maiar." Elrond turned to walk back towards his room. Eärendil felt a wall like mithril rise to block the newly forged threads that connected him with his son. Understanding dawned as Eärendil looked at Elwing, who was still focused on their son's retreating form.
"Elwing!" He cried, stood, and pulled his wife up from her seat. Her eyes flashed with anger, but he paid no heed. "Elwing, stop! It is not your place." He half pulled half led her out of the cottage.
"No, a Mother should know what happened! I have the right to know." She protested as the door slammed closed behind her.
"He has told us in words. You have no right to demand that he share this other … by a strange and to us alien way." Eärendil stated.
"It is not alien. I should know what happened," she said, her voice filled with anguish. "Why will he not share these memories?"
"He was telling us what happened." Eärendil pulled Elwing toward the sea. He sank on the sand, holding Elwing firmly in his arms. "It is not your right to force him to share the memories by Ósanwë. Meleth-nin, you must let go of this hate. Would you hurt our son, who has recently returned to us? You have already asked him to relive the memories in words. Why make him recall such traumatic times that are so far in the past?"
"I have a right to know."
"You have no right to demand – to force such sharing. If he declines to share that … that way, you must respect his wishes." He held her face between his hands. "Meleth-nin! Look at me, beloved. This hate, this guilt – let them go. Do not be trapped in events that are six thousand years past. Now, for the first time in millennia, we can choose our future and forge our paths." Elwing shook in his arms. Tears coursed down her face. "Beloved Elwing, forgive me. I have left you alone for far too long while I sailed the skies for the Valar. You shouldered far more responsibilities than I did for so many years. Let us together banish this darkness that has crept into your heart."
"They took everything from me." Her fists tapped his chest with each broken word. "You were reunited with your parents. Yet my parents, brothers, and grandparents are all still in Mandos. How can you ask me to forgive? I know my children suffered in Himring. How can he just forgive? How can he ask that of me?" Eärendil held her as she cried.
Xxxxxxxx
Idril heard the sobs before they saw Eärendil and his wife sitting on the beach. Of Elrond, there was no sign. Unwilling to intrude upon the couple's privacy, they opted to proceed straight to the cottage via the tree line, giving the couple as wide a berth as possible.
A kettle was heating on the stove. The opened canister contained willow bark. Elrond stood nearby, his face pale and his eyes closed tightly. His breathing had a strange hiss. Idril could sense both an undercurrent of the black breath and how he prayed to Elbereth.
"A migraine," Tuor mouthed soundlessly. His wife nodded in understanding and went to tend the kettle to keep it from whistling. Tuor touched Elrond's shoulder gently. Silver eyes flew open in alarm but then calmed in recognition. "Come sit down, Elrond. Let us care for you." He whispered as he guided Elrond to the couch. His grandson's shoulders were tense. Power swirled around them, blocking the bonds of kinship.
"Here, Grandson, it is cool enough to drink." She coaxed. Elrond's stormy silver eyes opened again in shock. The light caused him to grimace and close them immediately. Tuor looked up in surprise, for the water must have been too hot. His wife raised her brow as if to say, "I have my ways." Elrond drank the brew quickly, allowing them to guide him to lie with his head resting on his grandmother's leg. Tuor sometimes suffered migraines, so she knew many methods to ease such pain. She covered Elrond's eyes with a dark cloth and slowly traced a soothing pattern on his scalp and temples. Tuor watched the golden glow pass from his wife's hands into his grandson. Their dear Grandson slowly relaxed, the hitch to his breathing diminishing. As she sensed his pain ease, Idril began to hum softly, never stopping her ministrations.
"Do not get angry. It will not help them." Tuor warned mind-to-mind.
"Elwing needs to deal with her guilt." Idril returned silently.
"And you are sure this is Elwing?"
"Not entirely, but the barriers around Elrond's mind were raised in self-defense. Celebrian told me how she worried over him when Evil searched for Vilya. He raised barriers that blocked everything to protect his people and their mountain home in Imladris."
"Whatever happened, I think our son and his wife deeply regret their actions."
"We shall soon see," Idril returned, never once stopping her humming or the soothing motion. Indeed, not even an hour had passed before the cottage door opened, and their son's tentative voice called softly.
"Elrond? Are you here?" Tuor rose and crossed to the kitchen so he could motion to them. Elrond stirred and reached up to hold the cloth over his eyes as he sat up.
"Easy, Elrond," Idril warned softly. "You will undo all my work." The Peredhel squeezed her hand in reply.
"Elrond?" Sorrow colored Eärendil's voice. Elwing gasped softly. Elrond squinted as his eyes adjusted to the light. His expression was guarded.
"I am sorry, Ion-nin." Elwing bent on her knee before the couch.
"The ways of the Maia are not mine, Naneth. You must understand and respect my choices as well. I do not wish to share in that way." Elrond whispered.
"Please forgive me, Ion-nin." She nodded tearfully as Eärendil also stooped down beside her.
"Please forgive us." His Adar added.
"Of course, I forgive you." Elrond curved upwards in a slight smile, although his eyes still showed pain. "Families often have disagreements and misunderstandings. Yet that does not change their love."
"Thank you." Elwing smiled shyly through her tears. Noting her son's pale features and the tightness around his eyes, she held her hands out, palms up in a traditional healer's sign. "May I help you?"
"There is no need. It is simply a headache, nearly gone." Elrond rose unexpectedly. His parents stood, too, watching warily as their son walked to the window and closed the blinds. His expression eased markedly as the room was clothed in shadows.
"Are headaches a common occurrence?" Elwing worried.
"Once in a while. There is no need to worry." Elrond's voice was calm and suddenly imbued with warmth. He seemed to grow in stature before their eyes. He turned to his parents.
"Naneth, holding this guilt inside for what happened in Sirion serves no purpose. Lives were changed long ago in a moment of terror. But think of all the good you both accomplished. I have been a father to three children of our own and a handful of foster children. There is always guilt and regret – things I have wanted to change or do over if I had the chance. None of us are perfect. Yet, the past is ever behind us and no longer in our power to change. All we have is today and the future we forge together." Tuor moved to stand next to his grandson as a silent signal of his support. He and Idril watched the tentative parents make awkward apologies to their son.
"Strange that the Elrond is teaching them how to be parents." Idril's voice laughed in Tuor's mind.
"Is it so strange? Elrond has been a father for an age and has always shouldered the responsibilities of parenting, teaching, and guiding. But our son has been bound to a solitary existence in the sky while Elwing endured for too many years without any family." They stood back and watched the newly reunited family speak of their differences. Elwing spoke of her great loneliness in Gwaelindë and her separation from her loved ones. It seemed like the draining of an infection from an old wound. Sharing these feelings in words visibly helped her. Only the ringing of the great bell disrupted their conversation.
"I have to pilot the Vingilot to Lórien now." Eärendil looked visibly disappointed as he started to excuse himself.
"Have you been to Lórien?" Idril turned to her daughter-in-law. Elwing shook her head. "No? Well, perhaps a short journey there and back over two days would be a wonderful trip for you both. Just spending a few hours in Lórien does wonders for the spirit."
"You should go." Elrond smiled wearily. "Just to meet and spend a few hours with the two hobbits. Bilbo and Frodo Baggins are the most extraordinary. A conversation with them will brighten your spirit."
"I do not wish to leave you." Elwing wiped her eyes.
"We will be here," Idril assured her. "Besides, Elrond needs to rest, and you will likely be back tonight or by tomorrow at the latest."
Xxxxxxxxx Swan Harbor xxxxxxxX
Although many ships in the harbor featured swans, the Vingilot, with its beautiful prow of a swan neck and head, silver sails, and strange hull – of a glinting, unidentifiable metallic hull stood out. This ship glowed with the light of the Valar and sat much higher in the water than any of the other ships.
"The great Vingilot!" Bilbo walked faster now, even though he still needed his cane for balance.
"And I promised myself never to set foot on another ship after the seasickness I endured on our journey here." Frodo's courage wavered momentarily.
"Ah, but this journey will last only a few hours." Eärendil came forward, escorting a dark-haired Lady. "Elwing, these are the good hobbits I told you about! Master Bilbo Baggins and Master Frodo Baggins, my wife Elwing." The hobbits bowed as they were presented.
"Lady Elwing, it is a pleasure to meet you." The elderly hobbit gallantly kissed her offered hand. Frodo also smiled and greeted the famous Elwing the White. Behind them, the carriages of the rest of the royal family were arriving at the docks.
"Do you often sail the skies together?" Frodo asked. Elwing blushed.
"I have only sailed once through the skies. It was an amazing experience." Elwing squeezed her husband's hand. Indeed, only a few months ago, they had journeyed together to Alqualondë on the Vingilot. It was the first time Eärendil had sailed the skies since giving the Silmaril back to the Valar nearly two years earlier. It had also been the first time he had shared his love of the skies with his wife. Yet, Elwing was reluctant to divulge such information to the two hobbits. Instead, she told them about how she perceived the trip.
"It is very different from sailing the sea." Elwing struggled to put the feelings into words. As they talked, the Noldorin approached, escorting his daughter and granddaughter. Olwë, Cévëalë, and the entire extended royal family of the Lindaran were there to bid them farewell.
"The Vingilot has never borne such prestigious passengers." Eärendil greeted them. "I hope we are up to the task."
"Is it safe to sail upon the air?" Eärwen looked at the craft dubiously.
"I have sailed her for thousands of years," Eärendil assured her, although his words did not appear to have the desired effect.
"I am entrusting you with the safety of my daughter, son-in-law, and granddaughter," Olwë stressed their relations. "I expect to hear that all arrived safely." Eärendil bowed to the King of the Lindar.
"I will do all in my power to see they arrive safely. My wife and I will return tonight or tomorrow with tidings of the arrival in Lórien." Eärendil sincerely promised. He had, for the first time, multiple passengers on this journey. Elwing was already helping the hobbits step aboard. Several of his crew gathered to greet them. The crew was volunteers from the elves of their settlement. Nearly ten percent of the elves from Gwaelindë had assisted their Lord in piloting the Vingilot at one time or another. The rotation of the Vingilot's crew was necessary to limit the elves' exposure to the effects of the Silmaril. It was also the reason that Elwing did not sail with her husband. But now that the Silmaril was far removed, Eärendil was eager to have his wife by his side.
"Once you are well, we are expecting you to visit!" Falmatar and his wife were saying their goodbyes to Galadriel. Celebrian had yet to leave her Naneth's side.
"Do not fear! We will watch over your daughter and her husband." Cévëalë put her arm around Celebrian.
"Naneth," Celebrian's voice wavered. Whatever was said between them, Eärendil could not hear. But Mother and daughter shared a long embrace as Arafinwë and Eärwen thanked Olwë and Cévëalë for their hospitality.
"Go see your daughter back to health," Cévëalë whispered to Eärwen. Eärendil waited patiently as everyone bid their farewells, and then Finrod and Eärwen walked up to the plank behind Arafinwë and Galadriel.
"Welcome aboard, Aran Arafinwë, Lady Galadriel." Elwing smiled and motioned towards the front of the deck, where seats were securely fastened to the deck. Eärwen was already seated. Finrod was trying to ease her fears.
"Elwing," Galadriel breathed in amazement at seeing the Lady. Visions of the aftermath at Sirion rose in her mind. She shivered and tried to push the horror of those memories aside as she embraced the one-time Princess of Doriath. She stepped back and gently touched Elwing's cheek. "Elwing, I prayed that you and Eärendil would be reunited with your son. His burdens have been hard, and his losses great. We prayed he would find the Celebrian healed. Elbereth is truly kind to bless you all with time to get to know each other."
"We are so blessed that he wishes to get to know us better." Elwing could not stop the tears from falling. "We know so little about how to be good parents."
"We learn as we go." Galadriel smiled suddenly as her own Adar gently guided her to her seat. The crew secured the plank, pulled up anchor, and guided the ship further into the harbor, well away from the docks and other ships. One of them turned to smile at Galadriel.
"Well met, my Lady Galadriel." Familiar eyes smiled at her. "I had thought to see my gwador arrive with you and Elrond. It was a surprise to hear he remains in Endor."
"Ecthelion!" Galadriel gasped at the sight of one of the greatest warriors of the First Age. "Glorfindel is well and watches over Elrond's children - my grandchildren."
"That is good to hear. I hope to hear more soon, but now there is a ship to sail." The ancient blond warrior smiled like a child who had just received a new toy, then turned to finish the preparations for setting sail. It seemed the very air itself shimmered around the ship. To Elwing and Eärendil, this field bestowed by the Valar was not surprising. It buffeted the ship and kept a protective blanket of air around them.
"There will be some loud noises before and during the assent." Eärendil warned them. "Do not be frightened. I have also added a strap to your seats, as sometimes the ride can be unexpectedly bumpy. Our eyes can see when our horse approaches an uneven stretch or has to jump across a small fissure, but here, with the air as our road, we can't see when it might be uneven."
"Well, I certainly do not need to be told twice," Bilbo said cheerfully as he fumbled with the strap. His natural curiosity and sense of adventure were easy to smile at. Even Eärwen felt comforted as she snapped the belt around her torso.
"We will not be sailing very high, certainly not anywhere as high as we sailed as Gil-Estel. But we will be high enough to enjoy a birds-eye view of the land." Eärendil announced. For some reason, Eärwen saw him smile at Elwing.
"Do not fear, beloved." Arafinwë squeezed her hand. He sat between his wife and daughter, and Finrod sat on the other side of his Naneth. "The Valar will keep us safe." All sat silently, anxious as a loud bang sounded, followed by a whoosh of air. The sails suddenly billowed upwards.
"They are connected together," Frodo whispered and pointed upwards to where the sails seemed to form a large upside-down bowl on a scale much larger than their ship. The ship started to rise slowly at first, then faster. Eärwen quaked in fear and closed her eyes while her husband, son, and daughter gasped in amazement.
"Look my heart," Arafinwë whispered. "You have never seen your Adar's lands from this view – it is spectacular." Indeed, it was. Eärwen had to admit when she dared to open her eyes. The pearl spires of Alqualondë glistened in the sun. She turned to look at the sea and was rewarded with a breathtaking view of the harbor, which had its natural stone protective necklace visible in the distance. The ship rose higher and sailed over the city. Buildings grew smaller, and trees began to look like carved toys that her boys used to play with.
"Are we to fly over the Pelori?" Galadriel questioned. Her heart nearly skipped a beat when Eärendil answered affirmatively. They had all assumed the Mariner would chart a course similar to what they might follow on horseback. That journey would not go directly to Lórien but verve towards Tirion to avoid the end of the Pelori. "Oh, how much pain and suffering could have been averted if we had been able to travel this way between Lothlórien and Imladris!"
"This ship was rebuilt by the Valar." Eärendil turned the wheel slowly. "Even I, who has sailed on it for thousands of years, do not fully understand the means used to propel it. Yet, I hope we elves can build our own airships in the future." Alqualondë grew smaller and smaller in the distance as the rocky tips of the Pelori loomed closer. Yet, they feared not, because they could see the breathtaking landscape and, in the distance, small herds of sheep and goats, which looked more like tiny ants on the ground. There was a hushed reverence between the Eldar and hobbits on the ship as they surveyed Ilúvatar's creation in a way only Eärendil and his crew had ever observed. The land passed so quickly under them as no horse nor bird nor even the great cats of old could surpass.
"How fast are we going?" Finrod watched their approach to the mountains in stunned amazement.
"We Eldar do not yet have terms to measure such speeds," Eärendil said. "The journey to Lórien would take two weeks on horseback. We will be there in three hours."
"I now know what it feels like to be a bird." Frodo smiled.
"Although we are flying faster than even Manwe's great eagles," Eärendil noted. Elwing rose and moved to stand next to her husband. All enjoyed the sights of the crossing of the mountains and their first views of the oasis that was Lórien.
"Where are we to land?" Finrod rose to stand closer to the Mariner.
"I have special permission from Lady Este to dock in the great lake in the middle of Lórien." Elwing sang out a sweet greeting in a language no one had heard. Immediately, lights appeared around their ship. Eärendil started a slow descent. Ecthelion and the other crew hurried to and fro, carrying out their captain's commands. A low whistle accompanied a rush of air through the sails as the ship descended. The lights danced and flickered as if to greet Elwing, who sang back to them again in a language that was to others unintelligible until, with a gentle thump, the ship landed on a clear blue lake whose shores were painted in flowers more colorful than any had yet seen.
"Welcome to Lórien!" Eärendil shouted.