The Rescue of Celebrian

If boredom drove his sons to madness, Elrond Half-elvin did not seem to notice it. The night of her remembering, Celebrian asked that the Hall of Fire be opened and all those willing brought into it, so that she might see them, and they her, to rejoice that she was home. So flautists and harpers were made ready, a fire fed huge in the great hearth and attempts at joy were made, for the sake of their Lady’s homecoming. But the shadows haunted Celebrian, even when Elrond stood between them and her, muttering softly. But still, she stayed, doing her level best to take up where she had left off as Lady of The Last Homely House.

In private, it was not so difficult, though even that concession allows little. The day of her remembering, Elrond finally held his wife for the first time in months. That night, she struck him for the first time in all their long years of marriage, having wakened from a dream to see him standing beside her bed, between her and the lamplight. Equally shocked, they stood staring at each other for what felt like an eternity, Elrond’s lip cracked and bleeding slightly. Then Celebrian wept apologies into her hair until dawn, and would not be consoled. Elrond cursed himself for a fool for rushing into what he felt he should have known would be a frightening thing for her still, even in spite of the realization that her ordeal was over.

But the second day, Elrond asked Celebrian to walk with him, and surrounded at a distance by archers, the two spent the afternoon deep in their woods, Elrond speaking on what had changed in her absence, which horses had foaled, what travelers had come to Rivendell, and subsequently gone. He did not notice the first time he mentioned groups of elves seeking ships that Celebrian’s eyes grew distant and misty, but near the end of their walk, he mentioned the Shipwright and heard her sigh. He looked at her again, met her eyes and studied them as he always had, before he felt his heart break anew. Those simple words, “seeking a ship”, had awakened in Celebrian the Longing. He knew with a certainty that the years had told him was not simply worry, but truth. His wife’s restoration, if it came at all, would not come in their home. She would leave him. She would go into the Undying Lands, ever green and peaceful, and safe. Of all that he would give, could give, would kill or steal or die to give, he could no longer give her the protection she sought. The evil was in her mind. The Havens and what lay beyond were the only healer that could help her now.

But did she know? As they walked silently back to the House well before dark, Elrond found the idea surprisingly easy to accept. It was what must be done for his wife and the wholeness of her mind. As miserable as the long years without her would be, her life was his priority, now more so than ever. If the Havens were what she needed, he would see that she arrived there safely. But, awakened to the reality of now, months after her disappearance, would she try to heal herself? Would she admit that her heart lay elsewhere now, no matter her love for her home and family? The best way to know this was to ask, Elrond knew, and yet he hesitated. Perhaps it was too soon after her remembering for her to admit she could not become well under Arda’s trees. Her mother’s homeland, so often sought and rhapsodized by all elvin folk, was still a distant and unknown thing, and Celebrian had barely tolerated the familiar play of light and shade on the walls of their own Hall. And then, too, there was the chance of mentioning it too soon after her nightmare. The crack in his lip was still swollen and sore. She could well think he suggested seeking the Havens only because she had struck him, which was of course not the case. He would never cast her aside. She should know that; somewhere, he was sure, she did know that, but perhaps that part of her was still to frightened of the shadows in her mind.

Celebrian’s voice cut through his thoughts as they came within sight of the stables. “I have not been walking much of late, have I?”

“This is so,” Elrond said, each word measured, his tone of voice restrained.

“I am weary from what would have been a short ramble. I should remedy this.”

“As you see fit, my love, but there is no hurry. You are still no where near your full strength. There is no reason to exhaust yourself,” Elrond countered.

“Yes there is. Putting it behind me,” she replied, and loosed his arm to walk the short distance into the house on her own, as she might have done a year before.

Perhaps, Elrond thought as he watched her enter the house, the healing had to begin here. But when the time came, he would have to let her go.

~*~

All right, so he had set it up. There was no helping it now, Elrohir grumbled to himself under the guise of grumbling to Blue Girl. It was easy enough to lead a wandering deer past the bathing pools, and easier still to get Elladan into the forest after it. Keeping up the ruse that the entire excursion was not, in fact, a ruse, however, was growing difficult. But at last they reached the pools as expected, and Elladan whirled on Elrohir with accusation in his eyes.

“Yes, it was a trick. You would not listen any other way.”

“Why are we here?” Elladan replied, already itching to be gone.

“You need to forgive yourself,” his twin answered and watched a look of shock spread across Elladan’s face. “It was not your fault, that I lost her. It was not my fault. It only is.” He felt the old grief welling up in his throat again, and turned Blue Girl away toward the soft, mossy area where he often let her roll. Taking off her tack gave him something else to think about, time to regain his scattering thoughts.

“But it’s my fault that— that day—” Elladan began as he stripped Bloodstone of her gear as well.

“Your confidence in my strength is comforting, Brother, but think you I would have survived losing her and Mother too, had we wed? I do not.”

“You still grieve,” Elladan said. “Still feel pain, and it is not unexpected.”

Over his horse’s withers, Elrohir met his brother’s eyes. “Pain is not an adequate word for it,” he said softly. “I cannot explain, but I would have you help me try. If you can bear to be here, where you last saw her.”

“I… interrupted—”

“And I thank the stars for it, or we would have been wed ere she left, and I would now be made a widower before my first child was born. I would not have that burden on my heart. I would give… anything, to have her back. But to have had only a tiny portion of our life as one, and then have it snatched away? That is a cruelty I call myself 'coward' for rejoicing to avoid.”

The woods grew quiet after Elrohir spoke, and Elladan’s eyes narrowed in thought, but his twin was not finished.

“Come to the pools with me. Please. Give me at little of your time. Help me… start to forget.”

“You will never forget, Brother. You know this?” Elladan said, but put a toe to the heel of the opposite boot, slipping it free.

“I do. But, let me fool myself from time to time?”

“I can try,” Elladan answered, barefoot now in the remains of last years leaves.

“That is all I can ask of you.”