Xxxxxxxx Lórien xxxxxxxxX
Finrod led Galadriel and his parents from the shores of Lake Lórellin to a grove of familiar trees. Songs of welcome filled the air, doubtless from the many Maiar who served Irmo and Estë. If his sister had been uncertain of her welcome, any doubts were swept away by the joyous nature of songs that swelled their hearts.
"Mallorns!" His sister gasped at the trees whose leaves were like a ceiling of pale gold above them, a beloved sign of the season. No less than twelve of the stately silver trunks framed a quiet clearing. Here and there, glistened silver ovals of their bountiful nuts. A tear glistened in memory of the treasured trees of Lothlórien, now destined to fade and fall with time. How the flower and fauna had pleaded for her to stay! Their shrill voices beseeching her help – nay seizing strength directly from her spirit until she had withered, sapped dry. She had little recollection of those final moments as the long bond between the ring bearer and the land she guarded was torn asunder. Celeborn's eyes had been dark with fear as she awoke days later in his arms.
"The Malinornë were planted in here in honor of the Galadhrim." Finrod related calmly. He sensed some of the turmoil of his sister's spirit, though her legendary strength yet veiled her thoughts. The Malinornë grew in many places in Valinor, but they had not grown in Lórien during the time of the Trees. "Some of those who were lost have been reborn, while others who arrived from Lothlórien longed for these beloved trees. Celebrian also found comfort and rest in their branches." Thoughts of her daughter's bravery, courage, and perseverance brought tears to her eyes. She had left her to sail alone. What Mother would do so? Guilt long ago dealt with assailed her anew. Its force tore a hole in her mental defenses.
"Not alone, dear heart." Arafinwë swept his daughter into his arms, fearing only when, instead of protests, a flax golden head rested heavily against his shoulder. "You and Elrond sent her to us. We nourished, cared for, and cherished her as only grandparents can. Now, let us do the same for you, my daughter."
Xxxxxxxxxxxx Olwë's Palace xxxxxxxxxX
"This way, my dears." Queen Cévëalë walked her great-granddaughter and husband not to the chambers that they had occupied earlier in their visit but down the more secure family wing to the suite usually reserved for Arafinwë. All it took was a gentle hand on Celebrian's shoulder to guide her through the corridor. Cévëalë hid a smile at the couple's dazed state. Others bowed as they passed. Yet neither of the young elves noticed. They walked nearly entranced, their hands linked firmly together. As they walked, the couple drifted closer and closer together.
"My Lady." Silsilalda curtsied and opened the door for them, while the newly returned guard Cirulian also bowed. His eyes widened with concern. Cévëalë summoned them specifically, for they were both familiar figures who would comfort her weary loved ones.
"Lord Elrond, Lady Celebrian." Master Tarwatirno welcomed them, and the healer motioned to the Cirulian and Silsilalda. "Let us get you settled in your bed chamber." Silsilalda deftly coaxed her Lady, who only reluctantly released her hold on her husband. Then she escorted her to the bathing room while Cirulian and Tarwatirno stepped up to Elrond.
"Are you well Ernil-nin?" Cirulian's voice held none of his usual good-natured teasing. Elrond shivered slightly but did not admonish him for what he considered an unsuitable form of address. Cévëalë found that telling, having previously observed the banter between the two.
"I could not protect Celebrian. She should have never again had to experience the effects of the black breath." Elrond lamented softly. Cévëalë stepped up and took his cold hands in her warm ones.
"You did protect her, child. No harm has come to either of you." The Queen said gently as she kissed Elrond's cheek. Then she pulled back to look deeply into his eyes. They were clouded and pained as if he could not believe her words. "Celebrian is strong, as are you. Do not turn help away, though. Here, in the West, many want to help. Silsilalda has brought Athelas, and Tarwatirno has helped many dispel the effects of coming so close to the darkness. You are very safe here in the royal wing. I leave you in good hands."
Xxxxxxxxxxxx The Shell Room xxxxxxxxxxxX
"Tuor thought this enemy was focused on Eärendil and sought Elrond as a vulnerable target." Falmatar poured three glasses of wine. His Adar accepted the offered glass and looked up silently at his sons. The council had long since disbanded, yet their apprehension remained.
"It is fortunate that the four of them proved formidable adversaries," Falmatar noted.
"Thank Elbereth that your ancient sword was there to protect them. I was unsure if I believed all those stories from before the great migration. But now." Vienen faltered. Olwë raised his brow at his younger sons' admission. All of Olwë's children were born in the West. Falmatar's begetting day was the first year after their arrival on Tol Eressëa. But they had not been blessed with Vienen until they built the Swan Haven. Though his children were long since grandparents, they had not experienced the hardships of Middle Earth.
"With this attack thwarted, they will turn to other targets. What will the next one be?" Falmatar wondered aloud.
"We should send word to Ingwe, Arafinwe, and Gil-Galad." Vienen urgently suggested.
"Tuor believes this was devised by an enemy Eärendil defeated in the War of Wrath." Olwë shook his head as if considering the idea of a grudge held for millennia. Indeed, even his people who suffered in the kinslaying had overcome those feelings after all this time? All the Teleri who had died with Falmatar under Feanor's onslaught had all been reborn. Yet, even as he considered this, Olwë knew that others remained in Mandos. And enemies? Surely, those beings would not be released?
"All the more reason to send word. Eärendil was one player in the long war with Morgoth. Who knows what we face? Could this be a sign of Dagor Dagorath?" Vienen worried.
"I do not believe so. Otherwise, they would have revealed a stronger hand." Falmatar calculated tactics for keeping the Haven safe.
"I requested an audience with the Valar. We must wait until they respond." Olwë returned slowly considering his sons opinions. "Yes, we will send word after Yule. I do not believe one or two days will change matters."
"Until then, Adar, I suggest we guard Elrond and Celebrian more securely."
"Cirulian expressed his displeasure quite vehemently that guards were not posted at the cottage." Falmatar smiled wryly.
"Cirulian?" Vienen searched his memory. "Ah, Elrond's personal guard. Erestor also approached me on the day Gil-Galad helped them move to the cottage."
"Had we followed his advice, our enemy may have waited another time." Olwë frowned. "At least now we know there is a real danger. Although we have trees to mourn, thank Elbereth that no elves were hurt."
Xxxxxxxxxxx Lake Lórellin, Lórien xxxxxxxxxxX
Elwing watched as the Vingilot gradually ascended into the wispy, swirling clouds, touching her cheek instinctively at the memory of her husband's farewell kiss. It would not be long until he returned. But she rejoiced that one of them would be with their son for Yule. Perhaps, he was correct in that she needed a little time to sort through her own feelings. One could not refuse a request from the Valar. Thus, she was obliged to remain to answer Irmo's summons. Once the Vingilot was out of sight, she turned to follow the shores of the lake Lórellin until the path veered off towards Irmo's private glade. The air shimmered, and fear swelled in her, though her fëa responded to the song. Her hröa shifted, becoming spirit only. She had not mastered many forms of the hröa. She could don some forms of birds and, through Uinen's help, a variety of sea creatures. She enjoyed the graceful hröa of the great egret best of all and the fleeting sensation of freedom that came with flight.
"Do not fear, child." Irmo's song rustled like wind through her as she passed the path elves took to access the Vala's retreat. The music of the Ainur pulled her forward, spurring feelings of wonder and joy. Jewels dazzled white about her as Irmo's gentle eyes assessed her. "Welcome Elwing Dioriel." His power spurred her transition to her normal form. She blinked, disoriented and startled, to find that he was holding her hand.
"Why have you avoided Lórien for all these ages?"
"My task lay in Gwaelindë, so Manwë decreed." Elwing was caught in his gaze. She shuttered at the thought all her faults were laid bare.
"Nay child, we Valar do not not invade the minds of others. I only read that which sits on the surface of your mind." He smiled at her blush of embarrassment. "The tones of your song and the colors of your fëa are also easy to observe. Why, child, is there such regret and anger in the depths of your soul?"
"You never summoned me. All of my close kin are yet in Namo's care. How long will they remain so?" Elwing's voice sounded petulant, still too much like the small, hurt child who had lost everything at Doriath.
"That was beyond our power, dear one. I sent Melian to you to explain." Irmo's brow raised as guilt flooded Elwing's visage. "So many others lost their families during those tumulus years. Your sons suffered similarly. These hurts are most grievous to the nascent fëa, yet you were blessed with many who loved you in Sirion, and you have so many who love and cherish your leadership in Gwaelindë." Tears glistened in Elwing's eyes.
"You have served us well in all we have asked, daughter. Yet, hurt and regret darken your spirit. It is far past time to let that go. It is far past time for you to seek healing."
"I know not how." Elwing met the Vala's gaze. "Please, help me. What must I do?"
"Speak to Melian." Irmo kissed her head. She bowed obediently and was shocked when the Vala moved forward and embraced her. His aura blinded her. When the dazzling light faded, she was startled to find herself standing on the balcony of the Talan that had been assigned to her upon her arrival. Yet she was no longer alone. The melody of another Maia, curious, loving yet mixed with deep sadness and worry, encompassed her.
"Thank you for seeing me," Melian began. Her illustrious Great-Grandmother had visited her once in Gwaelindë, but their meeting had led to many misunderstandings, and distraught, Elwing had dismissed her. For how could one come to terms with or even comprehend the tidings that one's younger brothers had not heeded Mandos' call? Surely, Eru would not have allowed them to be lost.
"Your son has been returned to you, yet you are still upset by the absence of other loved ones." The Maia's song was soft and did not hold the sting of judgment that Elwing had long imagined.
"I thought," she stopped suddenly, then abruptly asked. "Can you greet Lúthien? Have you seen her?" Her Maiar foremother stepped back as if slapped. Hurt rang clearly in her fëa. "Forgive me."
"Nay, child, you must let your anger go and give in to love." Melian's voice was soft yet serious. "Where the souls of the Edain go, we Maia may not yet follow. I, too, dwelled long in sorrow and regret."
"But not anger," Elwing said.
"Who is to say?" Melian returned. "I loved deeply to the very core of my being. My beloved, though, has not been able to come to terms with our losses. He is not yet able to love in return, so shattered was his spirit through death and judgment. I hope Namo will yet heal him. I hope I will regain my beloved, though he will be changed."
"Will my parents someday return?" Elwing fearfully whispered the question.
"I have spent a long time with them in Mandos," Melian said. I don't know the time of their return, but I can say that their fëar are healing. To whom will they go when Namo deems them ready to be reimbodied?"
"I would gladly care for them." The words left Elwing's lips immediately.
"Then you, too, must accept healing." Melian said.
"And Eluréd and Elurín?"
"Many are still left in Endor. But by Eru's benevolence, they are not forgotten." Melian said gently. "Who can say what will yet come? Perhaps that is a task for one of your descendants." Those simple words sent hope flooding through Elwing's fëa and spurred tears that fell steadily from her eyes. Melian opened her arms.
"I am not your parents or brothers, but would you accept my love and friendship in their stead?" Elwing moved forward to accept the offered embrace.
Xxxxxxxxxxxx Eärendil returns to Alqualondë xxxxxxxxxxxxX
"Will you sail on the seas once again?" Ecthelion asked.
"Once the Vingilot no longer flies the skies." Eärendil contemplated the aquamarine view that framed the pearl city before them. "In some ways, life is much less complicated on the seas or the skies than on the land."
"Yet interactions on land may be more fulfilling." Ecthelion was thinking of his wife, who had traveled to Alqualondë to meet him.
"And come with more sorrow," Eärendil muttered.
"There is sorrow in the air, too. Have you not lost crew in the War of Wrath? And very rarely lost one while sailing the heavens." They both observed a moment of silence for their lost companions.
"My family awaits below." Ecthelion smiled at Eärendil's raised brow. The Mariner enjoyed teasing Ecthelion, for his wife had chosen to be reborn versus reimbodied. It had been over a yen since she had reached her majority, and the couple had remarried, yet they could not keep their hands off each other. Ecthelion simply shrugged and continued. "And someday, other dear friends will return from Endor."
"Glorfindel," Eärendil smiled knowingly. "You should be able to glean tales of his escapades from Elrond and Celebrian. They divulged a few stories over the past weeks."
"Pray tell?"
"Nay, my instinct tells me you would enjoy them more as my son tells them. Glorfindel was a great friend of his. Elrond's voice is scholarly, and he states things evenly as if they are a matter of fact. Yet, the deadpan delivery makes Glorfindel's escapades even more humorous."
"You must introduce me to your son after the Yule festivities." Ecthelion signaled to the rest of the crew as they began their slow descent into the Swan Harbor. This was only the third time that the Vingilot had docked in Alqualondë. Below, thousands of elves, young and old, stop and observe their landing. Only time would reveal the number of future aviators inspired by this day! The ship sat gently on the water and was guided by adept hands into the dock. The Lindar sang in greeting, made their lines fast, and lowered the anchor.
"Hail Lord Eärendil! Hail Lord Ecthelion!" Sailors called out in greeting. Behind them, their crown prince Falmatar signaled for them to follow. Eärendil called out to the rest of his crew to keep him apprised of their plans should the Vingilot be called upon again. All bid each other a "Happy Yule" in anticipation of tomorrow night's festivities.
"It seems we are summoned." Ecthelion turned from the Lindar sailor to his friend Eärendil.
"Both of us?"
"Yes, you are not to return to the cottage. More, I could not discern." Ecthelion would have said more but Prince Falmatar was almost upon them.
"We are meeting in the Shell room."
"My son?" Eärendil felt the chill shiver of foresight. Often, he ignored such signs, as foresight was his Mother's talent, not his.
"He is well." Falmatar hastened to ease his worry. "Elwing did not come back?"
"Nay, she stays in Lórien for a time." The thought did not ease his mind.
"That is well." Falmatar at least appeared relieved by the news, and led them up the peer to a waiting carriage.
"I am not dressed to meet your Adar, Falmatar." Ecthelion looked down on his sailor's garb.
"Sailors attire is always appropriate among the Lindar," Falmatar assured him.
Xxxxxxxx Lórien xxxxxxxxX
After her emotional meeting with Melian, the desire seized Elwing to spend Yule with the loved ones she had yet had. Eärendil and Elrond were far away in Alqualondë. Her inability to let go of old hurts had caused new ones. How she longed for his embrace! How she longed after six millennia to have a family! What did it matter that it was small? She was blessed to have what she did. The sun was directly overhead on this day before the winter solstice. No elf would think of traveling now. A slow smile spread over her face as her feet chose the path down to the lake. No elf might travel, yet birds might be persuaded. It did not take long to find the colony. Their white majesty was breathtaking. It took longer to convince some to agree.
"Ker, Ker, Ker! Fly to the Swan haven. Elves rejoice. Elves welcome." Elwing added a song after the bird-speak for her white-winged friends. Their language was refreshingly simple and lacked the nuances and innuendoes that colored all elven tongues. As they considered her suggestion, she heard them chatter about the Swan boats and the silver and gold elves who walked by the shores. Most of the colony stayed on Lake Lórellin for the winter months, though some spoke of a sister colony near the havens.
"I fly today. No fly alone." She added to their considerations.
"No fly alone. No safe. Stay in groups. Who flies to Swan Haven?" Their leader, Alaco, replied. A smaller group led by Híthë and his wife Fanya and their family expressed interest as they had cousins at the Havens. They discussed routes, and to Elwing's delight and dismay, they chose the path over the Pelori. She was delighted that it would cut three days from their journey but dismayed because, during the flight of the Vingilot, parts of the Pelori seemed dark and somewhat foreboding. She told them of her feelings. Still, she was not the leader of this group and had sought their company for safety. Thus, she had to abide by their chosen path.
Only the birds witnessed Elwing's remarkable transformation. An elf's strange, ungainly arms reached for the sky and blended and shrank into the graceful feathers of the great white egret. The air around them shimmered as the lines around the Lady's neck softened and elongated, and then, to their amazement, a dazzling female egret stood gracefully in her place. Fanya glided over to greet Elwing, commenting that she was larger than the typical female. Elwing smiled and accepted the compliment. Híthë and their young sang joyfully and welcomed her into their family. Elwing greeted Híthë with the proper deference as the leader of their small expedition.
"Ke Ker, Up up!" They cried in warning as footsteps sounded in the distance. The bird that was Elwing flapped her wings and rose until she settled on one of the higher branches near the flock leader.
"Are you sure she walked this way?" The Elleth whispered.
"I saw her walking along the shores. One can not mistake the famed Lady from Gwaelindë, the Mariner's wife, Lady Elwing the White." Her friend replied.
"Perhaps we should continue further. She can not be that much ahead of us."
Xxxxxxxxxxxx Alqualondë in the family wing of the palace xxxxxxxxxxxxX
"They sleep." Cirulian informed Eärendil. The former Imladhrim stood guard stoically with one of the Lindar.
"I am Colchelon of the royal guard." The tall silver-haired elf bowed. "We will be more vigilant in the future to protect your son and his wife."
"You could not have known." Eärendil was still stunned by the news. The meeting with Olwë and his council disturbed him greatly. "I know not who this enemy could be." Cirulian looked at the elder Peredhel quietly. "I wish to have some privacy." The guards exchanged a long look.
"The healers administered a strong sleeping draught. The fragrance is Athelas to ward away dark dreams. It is unlikely they will wake tonight. Will you not join Falmatar and his family for dinner?" Colchelon inquired. To his surprise, Eärendil declined.
"I, too, wish to stay and keep guard." Eärendil could not hide his deep regret that he had again not been there for his son.
"Lady Idril and Lord Tuor will come after dinner." Cirulian was dismayed to see the Mariner bend to cover his face in his hands. After an awkward silence, Colchelon added.
"We will retreat to the hall, my Lord. Send word if you hear them stir."
"Of course," Eärendil promised softly. He was relieved when he was left alone in the sitting room of the large suite designated for Arafinwë and his family.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxx Morning of the Winter Solstice xxxxxxxxxxxX
The mountains, tall, green, and majestic, rose around them. Elwing bent to take a long drink of the refreshing cold liquid of the mountain lake, pausing to put her head more fully in the water. The air was chilly, but the exertion of flying made its coolness welcome. She shook her head and then set about preening her feathers. The milky white feathers were brighter than the other birds. Indeed, Fanya had both wondered and worried about them, concerned that the luminous coat from 'breeding time' might not be warm enough for the cold mountain winds.
"Ke Ker. You are beautiful." Elwing looked up to find Fanya's son watching her with love-struck eyes.
"Thank you." She returned, flummoxed for a moment, then hastily added, "I go to my husband. He is at Swan Harbor."
"Ker, He … not wise. Good spouses stay together." The young male turned towards where his brothers were splashing. "Eat good. Fish here satisfying." He moved off to hunt for his own lunch. Elwing watched him move confidently away. Then she turned his attention back to the water, adopting a hunting pose. She held very still, for her movements earlier had alerted and scared the fish. Below, she saw her reflection. Her glowing white feathers were suddenly lovelier now that others had noticed. How long had she hoped for a compliment from her husband? How many years had he flown the sky and collapsed into bed without ever noticing her? Indeed, her heart ached for a word from him. The handful of times she asked, he had brushed her off.
"Of course I love you." He had said, finding it incomprehensible that one would have to repeat such things. Had he not told her during their courtship and gave his vows at their wedding? Yet time stretched out between them. The years of their separation wroth through the Silmaril displaced memories of those early days at Sirion until Sirion was numbered as the blink of an eye versus the span of an entire day. She had loved him. That much was true. Yet, in the many years, they spent together but separated, held captive by the lust and lure of Feanor's terrible and exquisite gem, the certainty of the love wavered. She fought the nausea that rose with the overwhelming memory of the Silmaril's beguiling power. She loved him. She reminded herself, steadying her thoughts again by focusing on the water, where thin silvery fish now darted, unconscious of the hungry white danger that lurked above. With a splash, her beak broke the surface as she captured one, greedily gulping it down. Her stomach appreciating the nourishment and life it imparted. It's innocent song disbanded as its fëa departed. She felt the song strengthen her own resolve.
"Beautiful Ones. Stay close." A voice broke through Elwing's thoughts. It was Híthë. She was surprised to see his wife, Fanya, approaching.
"Come over here. Fish better." Fanya had a matriarch's joy at traveling with her family, which was enchanting.
"My family not far." Elwing wished aloud.
"Yes, see them soon." Fanya rejoiced and flapped her wings. "Ker, Ker. Wish you with them." A feeling of kinship welled up from deep within Elwing. She was blessed with a husband who loved her and also now with a son and daughter-in-law. She would see them soon.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxx Alqualondë in the family wing of the palace xxxxxxxxxxxX
Celebrian slipped her hand under his sleep tunic, running it soothingly along his torso. His eyes were closed as expected for a healing elf, though his uneasy sleep spoke of the effects of the black breath. Whatever had stalked them at the cottage had brought on nightmares. Her hand tweaked a nipple, eliciting an undecipherable mutter and, to her surprise, a slight grimace. She focused on their bond to guide her actions. Although she could not sense his thoughts, she detected red tinges of guilt and shame, which lit his aura. They had talked long over these last weeks about things that were likely the origins of what she sensed. He had lived five hundred years without her and had been Imladris's strong leader and protector during that time. Yet buried deep was his turmoil of not having protected her and his feelings of guilt and inadequacy at being unable to heal her. That he should still feel this guilt when events had been so far beyond his control was telling. The deep hurt in her soul had been carefully tended and healed in the West. How could she reach the deep wounds that were embedded in his soul? She focused solely on him, sending him unconditional love through their tenuous link. The sun slowly crept up onto the bed while he slept. Still, she guarded his sleep and focused her love on him until she heard the end of his morning prayer to Elbereth. Then, finally, dazed silver eyes opened.
"Meleth-nin," he breathed reverently. "I kept you waiting. Forgive me." The words were laden with guilt incommensurate with the late hour. She frowned at the fact that she could not read his thoughts and ran her hands through his sleep-tussled hair. His eyes sought hers in query. She read love and concern in them but could not access his thoughts. Then, the thread between them blurred, letting her slip further into his song. The music of his soul fought to stay together, its rhythms minutely out of sync. She wrapped her own soul around his, heartened when the melodies merged.
"You needed your rest. Tonight will be long." She leaned over to kiss him gently.
"Tonight?" He had no inkling of the date.
"Today is the shortest day." Her eyes twinkled with teasing as she added suggestively. "And the longest night."
"Midwinter," Elrond realized, then frowned as he remembered something.
"I have gifts for your parents. They had planned to return yesterday." She was happy to read his thoughts, but it still happened far too infrequently. "I know what I would like from you." She laughed at the blush that spread across his features.
"Ah, El-nin, teasing you is far too enjoyable." She put her hand under his sleep shirt and caressed his chest, taking time also to assess his fëa. "While I would love to spend the hours with you today, others await us." She kissed him and then coaxed him from the bed to the bathing room. Although they heard voices stirred in the outer rooms and the hall beyond their suite, they did not see anyone. Yet, alongside the hot pool, a basin of warm water had been prepared for them.
"Undress," Celebrian ordered though a smile was on her lips. Elrond swallowed whatever protest he was going to make, slowly removing his robe and the sleep pants and then splashing water over his torso. Celebrian stepped forward with soap that smelled of sandalwood. She smiled appreciatively at him, which made him blush and look down.
"Scarred," he muttered. But she shushed whatever else he was going to say with a simple chaste kiss as she ran a lathered cloth carefully along his chest.
"It is healing well. After a few months of good meals, fresh air, and strolls through the forest, you will be back in top form." Careful hands washed him and then gave him his turn to wash her. His strong, long fingers were remarkably light and tender as they lathered her skin. "Sit." She smiled as he obediently sat on the wooden bench to have his hair washed. Once they were both free of suds, they slipped into the waiting pool, sighing at the blessed heat that it infused through them. Celebrian slid onto his lap, kissing his neck and fingering his dark hair. A low sound emanated from him, signaling his pleasure.
"El-nin, what happened between you and your parents? Or, more specifically, between you and your Mother?" She sensed pain for a moment that was quickly hidden. "She hurt you."
"Sometimes, we inadvertently hurt those that we love." His arms tightened around her as he sensed her ire. She had always been a protective mother and wife in Imladris. He smiled at a memory of her berating Glorfindel.
"Not like that." She read his thoughts. "You have only just been reunited with them."
"Over the long journey here, I never once expected that reunion."
"You had forgotten them."
"Once, it was all I could dream about."
"What happened?" She pressed her lips against his ear.
"Though Elros and I lost much in Sirion, and later in Himring, when we arrived in Balar, we were never treated as Kings. I sense that Elwing was always held by the expectations of the house of Elu Thingol. Do you not think it strange that she never talked about any of her family? Earendil, Idril, and Tuor spoke of friends and family returning. Have none of her family returned yet?"
"Surely, those from Doriath have been reborn. Uncle Galathil and his family perished there. You think," Celebrian paused in thought.
"I only start to know my parents," Elrond said slowly, leaning in to anoint Celebrian's cheek with a kiss. "But I was always coaxed away from my hurts, from dwelling on my pain and loss, by others that I loved. To love means one will know the pain of parting. But …"
"To protect oneself from pain means not loving, not living." It was something Celebrian often reminded him of in those early years. Voices interrupted their next thoughts.
"My Lord, my Lady, clothes have been laid out for you." A maid called. "Prince Falmatar requests your presence once you have broken your fast," Celebrian replied quickly to forestall the maid and give them a chance to dry off and slip on robes. Moments later, they were inundated with servants who were seeking to help them dress and braid their hair. Celebrian laughed at her husband's resigned look as the butler helped him with his tunic. He looked up at the sound of her humor. A small smile brightened his face. His lean form, smoky hair, and shining silver eyes were accentuated by the rich clothing. Celebrian caught her breath for her beloved, who looked suddenly very young, and every inch of the part of the returned Prince, who the Lindar were clamoring to see, if the rumors were to be believed. Once the attentive servants were pleased with their appearance, they quickly bowed and departed. Celebrian spent a moment scrutinizing her appearance in the mirror, smiling when she looked up to find Elrond standing behind her. His eyes were filled with love and devotion.
"My Celebrian …" he breathed in awe. "You look beautiful." She turned to kiss him and accept his offered arm. Together, they emerged into the sitting room. Around the table sat three figures: Idril, Tuor, and Eärendil. The three rose. Idril went directly to embrace Celebrian and then Elrond.
"How are you, Penneth?" Her voice held concern as she kissed her grandson's cheek. His eyes twinkled with amusement at being again referred to as a child. She could hear his unspoken thoughts. "Six thousand years old. What would Elros say?" Her eyes mirrored his good humor. "It is very liberating to be referred as such. And child, your fëa needs the freedom and play allowed under that term. You need time to be a young elf and behave like a newly married couple. It is what is needed for healing." This time, it was Celebrian who blushed under their scrutiny.
"Eärendil, you also need that time." Tuor's deep voice rumbled, and he laughed at his son's startled gasp. You were trapped on the Vingilot, dutifully carrying out the Valar's will. It was an honor, yet it posed great difficulty on you, Elwing, and all who love you." Tuor smiled as his wife happily led the couple to the table and fixed their plates.
"You need to eat after such a long sleep." Idril practically glowed, so happy she was to have a family to care for. "Elrond, the fests and celebrations are long. You must be careful when you let us know when you need to rest. We can not have the migraine return."
"Yes," Eärendil added emotionally. "I know many wish to glimpse the newly returned Prince. Yet, your safety and health come first …. Ion-nin." The Mariner spoke the term shyly, obviously uncomfortable. He bridged the gap between them and laid his hand on his son's shoulder.
"Elwing … Where is Naneth?" Elrond amended. His voice held concern, and he shivered slightly. Eärendil attributed his worry to the last encounter between his wife and son.
"Lord Irmo requested her presence. So she stayed in Lorien." He motioned to Elrond to sit. Idril passed him a cup of tea. "Do not worry. We will see her soon. I would have stayed with her, but we wanted at least one of us to be with you for the first Yule here." Celebrian passed Elrond a small bowl of rice topped with lithâl, remembering that Elrond had enjoyed the savory sand eels. Light conversation followed that described the day's festivals. Idril and Tuor exchanged satisfied looks as their grandson ate a hearty breakfast. Celebrian's eyes twinkled knowingly.
"I have an early Yule present for you," Tuor announced as he passed a small book to his Grandson. "You can use it as a signal to let us know if you need to rest."
"One needs to use signs?" Celebrian laughed.
"Although we will be guarded and separated from the great mass of revelers, the gardens will still be bustling. So, a signal is in order." Tuor watched Elrond open the book, and surprise blossomed.
"You wrote it." Elrond scanned the page slowly, murmuring appreciatively. "Mathematics?"
"One has time in abundance here. My curiosity turned, and I dabbled in mathematics." Tuor waved his hand dismissively. Idril smiled at his humility.
"More than dabbled." She said, proud of the fact that her husband was a scholar.
"Ah, you study change and the rates of change." Elrond flipped the page, drawing in a surprised breath. "It is reminiscent of some of the recent mathematics branches in far Harad. Indeed, Estel," he paused and clarified. "I mean, Aragorn, now Arwen's spouse, was concerned that some branches of knowledge, particularly mathematics, appeared much more advanced in Harad than in Gondor. Plans were being developed to encourage learning in their new kingdom."
"You have some examples of the mathematics of Harad?" Tuor was in intrigued.
"Unfortunately, we brought none of their writings with us. I read some but did not have the time to delve far." Elrond added apologetically. Celebrian smiled at her husband's answer. It was easy to recognize the similarities between Elrond and his grandfather. She sensed that her husband knew more. She watched as he slowly turned the page and commented appreciatively. "Erestor's son was particularly fascinated. You use different notations, which are much more direct."
"Unfortunately, there will be little time for mathematics today." Idril smiled at the pair. "Yet, when we see you opening the book, be sure that we will arrange for you to leave the festivities for a little quiet and rest."