Xxxxxxxxxxx Woods of Edlothdor xxxxxxxxxX
"Fear not, there are no energetic twins to guide away from a precipice or to chastise to prevent them from putting poisonous plants in their mouths." Celebrían smiled wryly as they walked under a lush canopy of receptive trees. Although they had meandered a quarter league, Elrond's breathing was labored. She did not comment but guided him opportunely to the braided trunk of Amaurëa. Celebrían's short greeting song was met by a low, lovely hum and Elrond's sharp intake of breath.
"She rejoices to meet you." Celebrían's smiled as she caught Elrond's left hand in her own and guided his fingers to the tree's smooth trunk. The tingling sensation where their fingers touched was one of the many signs of their recombining fëar. It took time for their two fëar to sing together again, especially given the bruised and injured state of Elrond's dear one.
"Open your heart. We shall sing our greeting together." She coaxed a smile from his lips and a glint of awe. Ever curious and polite, Elrond followed with inquiries about Amaurëa's well-being. All tiredness was forgotten as the tree proved remarkably open. Having befriended Celebrían years ago, Amaurëa happily conversed in her measured, lilting voice. Her singsong nature wove melodies into her visitors' souls.
"Sprouted in the light of the two trees – Amazing!" Elrond reverently repeated. Celebrían marveled as she felt the energy of the soil soak into her spouse like rain watering the forest. Unbeknown to her husband, she sensed the essence of Ea seeking to augment his soul. An age ago, she had witnessed the gardens and forests of Imladris visibly strengthen her husband after he had perilously given much more than was wise to help others. But even then, it was but after-effects that she noted. Here, eddies from their surroundings engulf them as they gradually aligned with the frequency of his soul's songs. A low tone struck a chord deep within as they imparted their energy. It was thrilling in its force yet frightful in its mindfulness. Would they have a choice? Or would it remake Elrond into something that would force them to part even as it aided his recovery? Then, she saw the three small azure stones glowing on the remarkably thin circlet. This gift from the Valar was meant to guard against the unwinding of his fëa. That the thread of his Maiar heritage was strengthened by nature should not be a shock; however, she feared the consequences.
"Do not fear, child." Amaurëa sensed her fear, as did Elrond, who sent love and reassurance through their bond. Amaurëa gifted more songs and stories before sending them onward. "Give my greetings to Tumnëa, Little Ones. Come back soon."
"Tumnëa?" Elrond repeated without understanding.
"We shall, oh bright Amaurëa." Celebrían promised as she kissed the smooth bark and rose. The sun had nearly reached its zenith. Elrond looked up.
"Were we not here but a few minutes?" He asked in confusion.
"Nay, it has been several hours," she confided, reaching down to pull him upright. Come, we have yet a ways to go before we picnic." But he pulled her closer and stole a long, slow kiss. His love and admiration flowed through their bond. She blushed at his high regard for her intellect and talents. Her blush deepened as she considered her endeavors in Aman that she had yet to disclose. She knew that he would be both impressed and supportive.
"What are you hiding?" His smile grew as he sensed her thoughts. "I know not how I was so blessed to win your love!"
"I, too, have been blessed." She pulled him into another kiss before taking their leave of Amaurëa. The sun glistened above as they meandered through a path marked with smooth obsidian stone and shaded by ferns and large shrubs with fragrant violet blossoms.
"They look like Camellia, yet I have never seen such a hue." Elrond bent to examine the glossy, serrated leaf.
"From the same family." Celebrían knowledgeably guided his fingers to highlight the difference between the two plants. "It is called Sunglótë. I believe you will enjoy the fragrant tea produced from it, which is popular around the solstice." Their journey was often interrupted to study unusual flowers or to introduce him to favorite friendly trees. It was a heady experience to be the teacher. His childlike joy of learning reverberated through their bond. Joy surged, bubbling out in shared laughter. Celebrían found herself anticipating all the upcoming introductions in the next few years. Elrond would certainly rejoice at meeting Nerdanel and Mahtan!
"What?" Elrond asked. Celebrían laughed at his question and traced his raised brow with her finger. Then she took his hand and led them to the base of a massive tree, some four horses' length in width. The bronze bark was smooth yet held hints of an inner glow.
"Uncle Galathil introduced us and often accompanied me here. Tumnëa always provides a place of respite." Celebrían spoke reverently. "He has been waiting to meet you. Tumnëa, this is my husband Elrond."
They sat at the base of the great tree and listened to its song. Celebrían pivoted and pulled the small bag she was carrying with their lunch. She saw her husband tense beside her. Though often hungry, he was more selective in what he ate now. Yet, he wished not to inconvenience anyone. She pulled out the carefully wrapped packages, opening them slowly to reveal a bean and vegetable salad, a small loaf of bread, and a small selection of cheeses and olives. She broke the bread and handed a piece to him, keeping her face carefully blank as Elrond licked his lips. He was already eating an olive when she made the observation.
"You forgo meat now. Why?" A pained look flashed across his peaceful visage.
"I can not bear to …" He shook his head then began again. "The songs of every creature – from..." He faltered, and she reached for his hand, enfolding his long fingers in her warm grip. On their joining, the heartfelt song of the scarlet tanager above burst into her mind. Though she could not repeat their chick-burr vocalizations, the sentiment of encouragement for the little chicks was suddenly clear. Blue eyes met silver with surprise at the sudden knowledge. "I think I understand. There is so much wonder in Eru's creation and to take a life,"
"To destroy seems a sacrilege." Elrond finished quietly, leaning over to take up the salad and a fork.
"Many of the Vanyar agree. I think you will enjoy staying in the student enclave." Her voice warmed with pleasure.
"Enclave? You often visit there?" Elrond was intrigued.
"Much to the dismay of Ingwion, I prefer the enclave in the Halls of Learning to the formal halls of Taniquetil or even the palace of Daeradar in Tirion. There is freedom when one is just one of many artists and scholars." His lips curved upward at her admission, though he did not press her for more information. "How Middle Earth still shadowed them," she thought in dismay. Then she saw his eyes sparkle.
"Are you both an artist and a scholar?" He lifted her creamy fingers to his olive-oiled lips and kissed each digit slowly. She laughed and traced the outline of his mouth.
"You have eaten all the olives. Can you not learn to share?" She stated in mock indignation.
"There is still one left." He raised it to her lips and laughed when her tongue licked it from his fingers. "But we should be careful lest we forget your dear friend Tumnëa." In response, the ancient tree's deep baritone song grew in volume.
"It does these roots good to see you children laugh and play. Come climb and swing again from my branches." Tumnëa rejoiced even as Celebrían blushed.
"You did what?" Elrond gaped high upwards into Tumnëa's canopy, for the great tree's long trunk extended nearly three stories before its leaves and branches began.
"Tumnëa does have a rope ladder to aid those still recovering." Celebrían laughed.
"As well as help the children." The tree added.
"You need not swing today but must laugh and play." Celebrían rejoiced in Elrond's response. His eyes twinkled as he raised one brow. For the first time since he had arrived, she realized that he was awash with a healthy glow. Once their lunch was finished, he was the first to start up the ladder. Though the climb was long, he did not appear tired when they reached the top.
"Is Vanyarin Quendya so different?"
"Some of the Noldor complain it is - not Daeradar or his court. But I think many are insulated in Tirion. They forgo interactions with those outside. You will rejoice in learning the dialect. Most words are easy to guess, although some common terms are borrowed from Valarin."
"You are full of surprises." Elrond beheld her with wonder as he leaned back against a branch. She smiled as she caught his thought and heard the worries that bubbled near the surface of his mind.
"Why do you ask even now what your duty is? Can you not just be idle for a yen?" His thought was unspoken yet still clear to her. Celebrían leaned forward to rest her head on her bent knees and focus on his breathtaking silver eyes.
"It has ever been my experience." His voice was low as he turned momentarily to look at her, then relaxed to enjoy the view. They were looking out from a perch over the beautiful rolling hills.
"Your soul still needs a long rest, though Dior's aid combined with the peacefulness of Edlothdor has done much for you."
"You leave off the most important catalyst of my recovery, Meleth-nin." He chided as he coaxed her to lean against him.
"I will ward away those who would force duty upon you. Instead, we will listen together for Eru's plan. Surely, he would grant some respite from responsibilities."
"Responsibilities can be joyous and rejuvenating." Quick movements punctuated his playful tone. Suddenly, she was sitting on his lap.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
"Is it polite to spy?" Galadhon observed. His Adar was discreetly watching the pair in the ancient tree.
"Do not be impertinent." Elmo admonished. "I see the Peredhel has Tumnëa's approval."
"Then, perhaps it is time to go meet him."
"We will wait in the meadow and greet them upon their return." They walked a short way, situating themselves in the shaded shadows. Elmo had never sought to lead their people, but his presence always drew others. It was not long until they had assembled a larger group of elves. Many whispered of the potential for glimpsing the elusive Peredhel. He had mixed feelings and was troubled as to how to think of this one, who was related through not only Elu's but also Galathil's and Celeborn's lines.
"My Lords," one of the guards appeared from the trees, "please move back towards the village. Prince Elrond and Princess Celebrían will pass this way soon."
"We mean them no harm." Elmo stepped forward. The second guard jumped down to join the first as they looked back and forth uncertainly between Elmo, Galadhon, and the group that had assembled around them.
"Please, I must remind you that the Prince has recently returned. Aran Olwë, Aran Arafinwë, and Prince Gil-Galad all contributed warriors to guard his safety and privacy."
"They are not our Kings," Elmo responded. A few of the elves behind him roared in agreement. The outburst made Elmo spin around to survey the group, nearly two score in size. Galadhon and the two guards were also exchanging uncertain looks. Elmo bit his tongue and then addressed the people. "They are my brother's descendants and due such honors." Murmurs passed through the crowd at this. Hopefully, none noted his omission.
"They more than earned such honors fighting the Morgoth's long shadow in the far lands and leading Imladris." Galadhon moved to point out. But the ensuing discussion lingered too long. Soft footfalls and melodic voices drew curious eyes to the other side of the clearing where Elrond and Celebrían were emerging. At the scrutiny, the exotic Peredhel drew to his full and noble height, stepping protectively before his wife. The pair was a visible reminder of ancient days. Celebrían, with her curtain of sparkling silver hair, had the enigmatic aura of Doriath's nobility. While Elrond held the beauty of his ancestor, Lúthien, entwined the air of Finwe's house and a curious sharpness that was said to be associated with the second born. Warriors emerged protectively around the couple. A Telerian guard stood out conspicuously. He was wearing the unusual emblem of Imladris. It was an emblem favored by the youth, who were curious about the tolerance and equality of the famed haven. Elmo immediately realized his mistake in planning to surprise the still-recovering elf and hastily moved to remedy it.
"Forgive me, Penneth, we meant no harm." Elmo walked slowly towards them with his hand over his heart. His son Galadhon hastily hurried the others away. Now, that he considered more carefully, he could not be sure that some of those gathered did not bear resentment towards this prince of Doriath. A small but vocal contingent believed Elu and his descendants precipitated Doriath's downfall. Some refused to acknowledge Elwing's settlement Gwaelindë. If his brother, nay when, Eru permitting, his brother returned, would he reunite his people or further divide them? Indeed, perhaps some did not consider Elrond a prince, he reflected, noting how the young Peredhel visibly relaxed as the others moved away. The stories of the Peredhel's ability to read people's intentions held some truth. Only when most of the guards, apart from the Teler, melted back into the trees, and it appeared that the Imladhrim couple, Galadhon and Elmo, were alone in the clearing, did Celebrían emerge from behind her husband. It was evident that they communicated mind-to-mind. Elrond was taking deep breaths and exhaling slowly while Celebrían slipped her arm seamlessly around him. At their connection, the glow around them shimmered and encompassed them.
"I have been thoughtless. Please forgive me." Elmo repeated, opening up his arms wide. "Of course, you know my grandsons Galathil and Celeborn, but I fear I have been amiss in not coming to greet you earlier Celebrían. Forgive an ancient elf who has hidden away instead of engaging with the present. It was also thoughtless of me to surprise you. I had not considered that surprises were not always welcome events in the outer lands." The couple stood momentarily stunned. The Teler, finally satisfied that no danger persisted, bowed and moved away.
"Lord Elmo," Celebrían whispered. Elrond appeared to be still focused beyond Elmo to ascertain if all threats were gone. A familiar silver-haired figure was hastening towards them. "Uncle!" Celebrían waved at him but did not step away from her husband.
"Adar, Daeradar, why did you not wait for my introductions?" Galathil was slightly out of breath. Indeed, he had sprinted when word reached him of the surprise. He hastened forward, acting as a bridge between the couple and Galadhon and Elmo. "Rashness does not always disappear with age." Galathil reached up and wiped an errant tear from Elrond's cheek. His niece was dear to him, and this nephew, by marriage, had already gained his admiration and love. He was also a grandson, but that was too much. No mention was made of the Peredhel's dazed look as Galathil considered the best place to lead them, deciding on a sunny spot in the now cleared meadow.
"All is well Meleth." Celebrían whispered as she pulled her husband to sit in the sun. Galathil pretended not to notice the couple's visible attempts to collect themselves. His pointed glances to his Adar and Daerader were a suitable chastisement, and the two elder elves groped for an innocuous topic of conversation.
"Next month is the onset of Sunglótë blossoms," Elmo said softly, opening his mind to allow them to gauge his thoughts. The traditional festival lasts one week and is filled with musical and dance performances as well as artisan exhibitions and demonstrations." Galathil noted the blush that crept across his niece's features.
"Ah, she had not told her husband of her achievements." If possible, he wanted to be present to watch Elrond's reactions. Sometimes, husbands felt threatened when they were eclipsed by their spouse's accomplishments. Yet, from what he had observed of the Peredhel, he doubted that would be a problem.
"Not only artists from throughout the woods but even adventurous Noldor and Teleri travel here to participate." Galadhon was describing the festival. "Young elves contemplating apprenticeships are common, as are new talents looking for more exposure for their work." Elrond turned towards his wife with one brow raised, a question written on his features.
"Yes, that is why I suggested you invite them here." Celebrían's eyes twinkled. "I hear they came twice in recent memory, but not since I have lived in Aman."
"Who?" Galathil wondered though he thought the question better left unasked. Instead, he happily observed the fortuitous effect that meeting had on his Daeradar, typically a recluse. He held back a smile as he realized the glint in Elmo's eye held a bit of fatherly concern and a burgeoning commitment to the couple's safety.
"Even the trees surrounding the festival's many groves rejoice and add their voices to the songs." Elmo elaborated.
"Elrond has not yet ventured into the center of Edlothdor." Celebrían divulged. "It is a wondrous sight. The atmosphere reminds me of the festivals on Cerin Amroth. You will love it." Elmo nodded in sudden understanding. The Peredhel was recovering and needed shelter from the crowds that gathered for the festivities.
Xxxxxxx Lorien xxxxxxxX
"Healing of the fëa is slow and arduous. Such fatigue is normal and plagues all those who return." Eärwen reassured her daughter, who was blinking dazedly as she awoke from a nap. But … Galadriel, she tried hard to use her daughter's preferred name in her thoughts,- Galadriel's symptoms of physical and emotional exhaustion also stemmed from wielding Nenya in defense of Lothlórien for many yeni. She had warned Tiawen and Amariel, Finrod and Amarië's daughters, of how long their Aunt would require for a full recovery. Certainly, a year or two in Lorien would be followed by a slow transition to life in Aman. Her two effervescent and well-educated granddaughters were very young when Celebrían had arrived and did not understand why Celebrían required such a lengthy recovery in Lorien.
"Celebrían, Tiawen and Amariel are very close." Eärwen smiled as the two nodded in agreement. "They championed each other's aspirations in art, technology, and trade. You will be proud and amazed at their accomplishments."
"All those arriving from the east spoke of our Aunt's amazing contributions. Your example gave us the courage to defy conventions here in Aman. And of course it helps to have a Daernaneth who is so beloved by the people." Amariel smiled and pulled her sister down to sit next to her. "You should tell her about your career first, Tiawen." Galadriel sat up slowly and gratefully accepted the offered cup of tea.
"I would enjoy hearing about your lives," she said before taking a sip. I regret I have no idea how Aman has changed in these long years. When I was growing up, it was always a fight for an Elleth to apprentice and continue their studies beyond the basics. What did you study? What do you now do?"
"I studied the elements and how they combined to make molecules. I was one of Thurinven's first students in Alqualondë. But my own work is on materials that emit light."
"Elements," Galadriel repeated as she search her long memory for the Telerian scientist. "Ah, Thurinven, he was originally looking at elements - hydrogen and some beautiful colored ones from seawater. He sailed from the Havens hundreds of years ago."
"Yes – his early work identified the halogens," Tiawen confirmed before her sister interrupted.
"She did more than study. She first unraveled the principles of the Feanorian lamps and then developed her own series of solid materials that give off light." Her sister bragged.
"You could say that having an Aunt known far and wide as the Lady of Light, inspired me to work with light." Tiawen laughed, though it was clear that she valued her sister's encouragement. "My work stemmed from a childhood observation about sugar's light, which lead to a long investigation."
"Life-long, thus far." Amariel teased.
"Amariel helped to organize production. We now have trouble keeping up with the demand."
"Sugar?" Galadriel repeated without understanding.
"Yes, sugar! I would drive Naneth to distraction as a child. I loved to play in the kitchen." Tiawen revealed, her smile wide.
"Mostly while it was dark." Her sister snickered.
"Well, seeing the blue flashes in the dark is easier!" Tiawen basked in her Aunt's full attention. "Some substances give off light when you crush or rub them. Sugar is particularly good at doing this when crushed."
"Most substances do not, though it did not stop her from testing them all." Amariel's voice lifted in amusement. Tiawen ignored her.
"As a child, I loved having the power to make blue light."
"Where does the light originate from?" Galadriel's spirit was buoyed by her nieces' evident joy.
"Ah, that is the question! It's taken long years to develop a theory on Carocalad for how this light is made. The truth is, it is still a hypothesis, and we have many questions left. But the long road of experiments and observations helped us to develop better lights that last longer and are brighter than Feanor's. These have been very popular, for Feanor's lamps were failing and no one could produce them."
"Why was no one able to produce the Feanorian lamps?" Instead of answering, Tiawen asked a different question.
"Can you tell us how you protected Lothlórien all those years?"
"I had help from Nenya. It connected my thoughts and fëa with the fabric of…." Galadriel froze momentarily. Eärwen embraced her gently, while her daughter sat dazed and blinked for long moments.
"You should not have brought this up so soon." The Queen of the Noldor quietly chastised her granddaughters.
"It is what it is." Amariel reached for her sister's hand, sensing Taiwan's remorse.
"Forgive me, Aunt Galadriel. I did not mean to hurt you." It took a moment before the famed Lady of Light responded.
"You did not," Galadriel said in confusion. "I would tell you, but my thoughts flee when I try to put it in words. But the knowledge is there. I can not communicate it to you."
"You remember?" Tiawen was impressed. "Celebrimbor has little memory of the forging of the rings. His craft here in Aman has moved in a very different direction." Tiawen winced at her grandmother's stern look. "Forgive me. There are some things that we are not yet supposed to speak of. Your healing needs to come first."
"Celebrimbor is alive?" Galadriel turned to Eärwen in surprise. Her Naneth cupped her cheek lovingly.
"Yes, many are excited to see you, Sell-nin. But there is no rush. Repercussions of the first age are slow to dissipate. The Valar blamed some tragedies on how much knowledge was transferred from the Valar to elves. Not Feanor's lamps, of course – the knowledge of manufacturing them was lost with Feanor since his notes on the process did not survive the attack on Himring. But the Valar now shroud some technologies, especially those in which Morgoth or Sauron contributed to. Supposedly, this is for our own protection. They decreed that our people should be left to develop on our own. Our technology should be what we discover, develop, and build ourselves."
"But they did come to Singollin's aid when he isolated elements from pitch. The small settlement south of Alqualondë was in danger from radioactivity."
"With the Valar now taking control of Vingilot, I bet it will not be long until Eärendil starts researching and designing flying ships. I can not imagine that after sailing the heavens for so long he would be content forever on land. I am sure that it will take him years to develop a flying ship. Perhaps it will look very different from the Vingilot." Tiawen said thoughtfully. "These next years will surely be exciting."