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For Perelleth's birthday, we ask the question why it took Elrond so very long to wed the love of his life. - *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* - Different Hearts – Different Sides Firstly, a little boning up on Second Age history:
= The Return of the King – Appendix B – The Tale of Years – The Second Age = “... and passing through Moria [from Lothlórien] with Celebrían, she [Galadriel] came to Imladris, seeking Celeborn. There (it seems) she found him, and there they dwelt together for a long time; and it was then that Elrond first saw Celebrían, and loved her, though he said nothing of it.” = Unfinished Tales – Concerning Galadriel and Celeborn = Nextly, the meat on the bone:
Over the eroded edge of the narrow ledge, it was a sheer drop down to the rugged valley floor far below. A slim hithlain rope, looped at intervals through curled iron spikes driven into the rock face, provided a disparate lifeline for any not possessed of enough grit to tread hands-free up the footpath, which was frequently described as not suitable for goats.
The treacherous trail wound around the curve of the promontory cliff in a gradual ascent to a small half-pie shelf situated below a lookout post. Quite high above the dead-end landing, the cozy niche could be accessed only by scaling up the vertical stone wall with the aid of a hanging knotted rope, also of hithlain. Looming higher up was the halved crown of the mount that housed the sentinel with his warning horn, as well as provided the precarious sill where nested a mated-pair of predator birds. For decades now, the birds were hawks, although in the past there had been small fisher-eagles in residence. The delved hill was just one of many composing the ordinary-appearing landscape of varied elevations that obscured the true course of the swift-flowing Bruinen.
Celebrían stood on the miniature stoop at the foot of the rope; her face turned away from the wall, scanning the length and breath of the bowed river valley. Only on this side of the bend could the riven dell been seen from end to end, almost every shore point on banks of the Loudwater visible. Although the foaming falls could be seen, its roar oddly could not be distinctly heard past halfway up the sides of the ravine. One had to stand inside the vale entrance or upon the scaling steps at either end to note the rush of water over the whoosh of wind-stirred woodlands.
Hrassa stood a long arm’s-length away from the princess, upon the trail itself. Like most Lindarin folk, he could enjoy a paradox perpetrated by nature and not be driven to puzzle over long about such oddities as an under-loud river. At the moment, what he was quietly enjoying more was the well-earned satisfaction due any dedicated scout for his discovery of such a oddly wonderful place. As well, this neatly nestled watch-post, which was an early preparation all of his own making.
He breathed deep the swirling air; catching the faintest whiff of food cooking. The fleeting scent made his mouth water with thoughts of supper. But even better, what was to come after. On this night, there was to be a Fire. From its inception, the new custom was meant to be a homely gathering, like to a long-home central fire, even if attended under open sky. Being a usually solitary wanderer, he valued the camaraderie of his fellow warriors, who came from all parts of Middle-earth – Lindon, Eregion, Ered Uial, Eryn Galen, Lórinand, and Khazad-dûm too. Yes, even them dwarves. Something he would only ever admit to himself, and hardly at that.
The sun, already hanging above the western hills, dipped below the high blanket of clouds and illuminated the landscape with gorgeous golden light. Heaving a long sigh of passing content, he held out his arms from his sides and opened his palms; welcoming the gentle warmth, drawing it in.
He felt an integral part of this expansive stronghold in the wilderness that had sheltered and provided for the army of Elves, and brave Men, warring against Sauron in the North. This was a bountiful place. Just as the Lady had said it would be when the Lord had long ago sent forth his bowman to find it. At the time, he had not asked the purpose of a secret holdfast, partly fearing it might be a move on their part to regain their old realm after having reluctantly sacrificed it in the name of peace. But as far as he was concerned, Harlindon had not been a very good trade, nor Lindon truly peaceful until its Umanyar populace abandoned it for the East. Still, keeping faith in Celeborn and Galadriel had again been rewarded.
At Imladris, a united force of edhil and firinath had been able to stay securely hidden. They were the last line of defense barring the black horde from the High Pass. They were the guardians of the only route to safety over on the other side of the Misty Mountains. For years, along with the vital support provided by Oropher, they had managed to hold off the foe. Nonetheless, there had been many dark days when Hrassa thought their part in the war would come to a terrible end in a last stand at the pass – and the death of everyone of them.
So, every peaceful day in the sun was to be enjoyed. It was owned to those fallen to use well and heartily the life gifted by their sacrifice. Whether that sacrifice had been to die or to survive broken. And a great many of the broken awaited some kind of healing in Imladris.
Hearing a slight scrabble to his left, he looked down the path to see Elrond slowly making his way up to the lookout. The prince had arrived sooner than expected. He was so alike in appearance to his fraternal twin that they could be mistaken for each other. Or once could be. The prince had the glossy black hair inherited by all of Melian’s descendants. And the handsome face and figure of Thingol’s line. Today, he was not outfitted as a war-captain. He bore a dagger, but no sword, and no armour over a longer tunic. Hrassa always thought this lordly style suited him much better.
A smile came to his lips. Elrond appeared to be finding the guide rope disconcertingly slack. It was never meant to keep one on the trail, just from being blown over on a stormy night. His smile grew into a wide grin. Galadhrim vied for duty up in the Nest, but even his nothrim’s Noldorin members – let alone Elrond’s Lindoni – never volunteered for it. Their kind seemed happy at a height only when safely encased in stone.
He looked back to his right to Celebrían, who eyes still gazed forward. She was dressed in warrior’s garb, same as he. Although, she too wore no sword. The symbolic devices of her newly entrusted powers hung at her waist: her lord father’s long knife with her lady mother’s key-ring put to service as its belt frog. Save for the clear clue of her lovely feminine countenance, the princess was not easily distinguishable as a member of her gender. The daughter who must also be the son, he thought glumly. Not that she minds. Tall, athletic, graceful, and strong, she had been gifted with both parents’ notable physical attributes. Like her cousin, Nimloth, she had their forefathers’ shining mithril colouring. In Celebrían’s case though, as with her mother, her skin tone was less pale, having the tint of a Vanyar grandmother’s pink hues made rosy by a Noldor grandfather’s bronze sheen. She had as well inherited from both parents an impressive intelligence and the will to use it.
“Well met, Cogndír,” Elrond said, coming up to him.
“Well met, Lord Elrond.” He had deposed of the grin by then. In further deference, he pressed backside against the rock face, scooting upwards slightly, to let Elrond by. To get around him, the prince had to let go of the rope. Markedly hiding his uneasiness at doing so. This brought the grin back and prompted a personal remark from his lips. “I'd say to pretend you're at sea, but I know you to be a cautious sailor as well.”
“Indeed... “ was the low reply.
Elrond reached the tiny terrace and endeavored to find a comfortable stance in the limited space without crowding Celebrían. She however slipped her arm through his and pulled him against her side, whilst never taking her eyes away from the vista before them. They exchanged no greetings, but that was not unusual between the two of them.
All of a sudden, one of the currently resident hawks stooped after prey, shooting past right in front of their faces. Hrassa and Celebrían followed the dive of the bird with anticipation of a kill, but the strike itself was obscured from sight by the thick trees. Being the hunters that they were, they were disappointed about missing out. Elrond on the other hand was irritated by their keen interest. Which in turn irritated them. Of late, Elrond had been acting as though buried under his responsibilities, and made everything else out to be a frivolous waste of his precious time. The lightness of heart, Hrassa knew the prince possessed, had been sorely missing. As well out of character, Elrond had not sought any assistance, and Celebrían believed that to be on purpose.
She leveled a disapproving look at his obvious annoyance. Her eyes literally were level with his, for she was taller than the average elleth. Elrond needed hear no words from her to know what she thought of his own unspoken opinion. Statement made, she turned to once more look at the view. He waited for her to start the conversation, but only just long enough as was polite.
“If you wanted private speech,” he rumbled in a low voice, “there are better ways to ask and other – more convenient – places as serviceable as this.”
There was no detectable annoyance in his voiced complaint. However, Hrassa had observed him long enough to know that he was definitely annoyed. Worried too. But then, he had good reason to be.
“I thought this would be a rewarding spot to end a wearisome task,” she told him, unperturbed by his criticism.
Hrassa stifled his own comment. Serious business was under commencement. The reason Elrond had come to Celebrían, instead of expecting her to come to him, was because word had reached his ears that she was conducting an inspection of the stronghold – something she was not officially authorized to do so.
From station to quarters, from stores to workrooms, from stable to forge, from barracks to armoury until at last coming to this final guard post, she had moved swiftly. Brusquely voicing their short-comings to any who disappointed her. Not restraining sharp censure of officers in charge whom she found lacking. Giving remedial instructions where needed. And there had been plenty to cite. Naught had been said beforehand so personnel might prepare. Nor had there been a notice issued about her being given this duty. Even so, everyone but the Lindoni had been expecting her to take over in some fashion or other.
That expectation rested upon a wretched turn of events. Like so many of the company’s number, Celeborn had been stricken in battle. Over the ensuing year, his injury slowly took him down. Until finally he was done. On his deathbed, he fell mercifully into unconsciousness. Each shallow breath barely followed by another, each looking to be his last. Hrassa had guided the Lady to him scarcely in time to save his life. Celeborn remained in a deep sleep. As with most other survivors of poisoned wounds, it did not appear that he would soon recover.
Perhaps never... Hrassa shook off the terrible thought. Instead, reaffirming to himself that with dedicated care, his lord and friend would awaken and be well again. Yea, Caun-anim, someday...
Since Celeborn’s collapse almost two months ago, Elrond had been in sole command. In truth, he had taken on all responsibility long before then. His co-commander still ineffective, he had become the only one who could hand out new assignments.
The Galadhrim and their fellow Eregrim had of course suffered no misgivings about whether or not it was the princess’ place to order them about. The Men, though amazed at a beautiful lady captain, had not faltered to obey her either. It might have had been centuries, but they continued to honor the generosity of the Lord and Lady who had given over their lake and hills to be remade into a homeland for those left behind by the Edain. It was ironically interesting to Hrassa that the Númenoreans appeared to think that any who did not choose to live in a land provided by the Valar to be of a lesser breed.
On any account, the Lindoni officers had been quite discomforted by Lady Celebrían. Practically fitful, but unable to confront her and her unassailable royalty. So, Elrond’s captains had run to him to report her presumption. She figured they would, and that she would make use of their tattling. His officers lacked understanding, but their prince would know exactly what she intended by her actions. Thus, his tracking her down even to this eyrie and coming alone.
“As Cliff informed, a spectacular view,” she placidly continued, his arm firmly clasped by hers. “A place where one might wish to linger awhile and watch the sunset after a hard day’s work.”
Sunset would be in less than an hour. Hrassa wondered if that would be enough time for them to resolve their problems. Personally, he would not mind staying until the stars came out. But, Elrond would surely wish to leave before darkness set in, and Celebrían would without a doubt leave that choice up to him.
“You have upset my captains,” curtly chided Elrond. “And have cultivated false assumptions by your lord father’s. Worse, now the Men have been caught up in a purely Elven issue.”
“Is that so?” she asked. Her voice had lost none of its pleasantness. “And just who do you think at fault for my misstep?”
Elrond’s jaw clenched, and he pinked slightly.
Hrassa felt sorry for him at being cornered into an embarrassing admission. Celebrían certainly had done no wrong in taking on her father’s work as was her duty. But, would Elrond take responsibility for not doing what was right? Or would he put the blame where it belonged – on Gil-galad. Not very likely.
He thought it rather sad that Elrond loved the valley as much as he did himself. As any prince should, the peredhel enjoyed being in charge of his own place and, in a change for him, of his own life. Regardless of that, Elrond was not the coveting sort. There should have been no reason for being as evasive as he had been about giving over to Celebrían her rightful share of authority. Since, as he had phrased it, he had laid his old resentments against the Lord and Lady to rest with his brother in his tomb. Over these past years while he and Celeborn were fighting side by side, the princes’s actions had proven his claim to be mostly true. So, Hrassa could easily suppose that there was something else behind his recent behaviour, and could easily say it was Gil-galad. The King still held a personal grudge against Celeborn and Galadriel – and Oropher and their old nothrim, the Elmoi.
Whatever his answer, Imladris would not be Elrond’s to keep for much longer.
“Oh, I know ‘tis for Gil-galad’s gain, not your own, that you delay the inevitable.” Celebrían said, herself abruptly turning annoyed. “He understandably desires this strategic fortress for his own use.”
She had only yesterday confided to Hrassa the dangers she feared emanate in leaving Elrond in complete control for too long. She was worried that he meant to stall matters right up until Gil-galad arrived. So then, the High King of the Elves of the West could seize the opportunity presented in the aftermath of the war and essentially take possession of Eriador. However, neither lord had anticipated that Galadriel, not to mention Celebrían, would show up and interfere with the attempt. It delighted Hrassa to have yet again been party in providing Erienion some major frustration.
Celebrían’s head turned to look directly at Elrond, saying straightforward to him, “We know each other far too well to bother with covert plots.”
Something Hrassa was astonished to hear openly acknowledged. Few would ever suspect it, but the two royals from estranged kingdoms had secretly corresponded for nigh on two and a half enni. Through letters, they had become friends. Nevertheless, not one word had been spoken aloud of their custom. Certainly, never to the Lord and Lady and the King. Not to their friends or companions. Not even upon meeting face to face for the first time. Nor, as far as he knew, in any private moment since. And never even in confidence to himself. Although, he had many a time been their supposedly unsuspecting messenger.
Yet, deniability had to be valued above trust. Just as it had to be by Celebrían’s parents. Else, they would have to confront the deed and be forced to put an end to it. He for one was absolutely convinced, as they must be too, that truce had often prevailed between their lands, instead of dispute, for having been clandestinely nurtured between the heirs of the realms.
A strong emotion flickered over Elrond’s composed face, and he swallowed before replying to the princess’ assertion.
Signs that made Hrassa pondered how much was actually at stake for the prince. Imladris, yea... his honor, certainly... his very freedom, perhaps?
“I treasure our friendship,” Elrond said evenly.
“As do I,” said Celebrían, who made to appear earnest.
“I do not wish for anything to ruin it.”
“Nor do I.”
At the same moment, both turned their eyes away from the other, to green trees and blue sky. After a short silence, Celebrían loosed a resigned sigh.
“Despite that, I must show Gil-galad that I now stand – and stand firmly – in my parents’ place. Else he has every expectation – and I suppose the responsibility – of assuming guardianship over the Northlands.” Her face hardened as she drew in a deep breath; holding it, visibly infusing herself with determination. “Believe me when I say that I as successor will not allow the King to do as he pleases unopposed any more than would my lord father. I will not let him have Eriador in violation of the pact he made. And he shall never have Imladris. It is ours.” She turned glittering jade eyes upon Elrond. “So swears this sell i Nos Galadhad! Whose House is allied with the lords of the Ents of Fanghorn, the lords of the Men of Nenuiel, the lords of the Silvan of Eryn Galen and their Aran, Oropher King, and whose suzerain is the Aran of Lórinand, Amdir King!”
Hrassa’s heart swelled with pride. She had turned from being wily to being decisive. If necessary, she would use physical force to back up her nothrim’s right to this place. It was very pleasing to see how her adamant speech affected Elrond, holding off any response from him. She had cowed the highest prince of Lindon, the most-favored lord and most-noble follower of Gil-galad King. Granted, it was only a short moment of hesitation. Still, head held high and shoulders back, Hrassa stood in proud solidarity with his princess. Then, Elrond did respond and firmly, knowing exactly what lay at the root of her threat.
“Gil-galad would never make your parents his prisoners. Even so, as a son of my House, I do swear that I shall let no one – no one – ever harm them as long as I breathe.” The sentiment with which he made this vow was genuine, not in the least empty or at the most just for show.
Celebrían’s face instantly softened into the demure admiration only tender-hearted ellith could affect. Elrond shuffled his feet in a self-effacing dance, his eyes casting back and forth from the ground to hers. Hrassa’s jaw dropped.
It was so exasperating as make one angry! He had personally warned the peredhel of the danger of misinterpreting one’s initial reaction upon meeting Celebrían. Folk were naturally charmed by her – especially unwed ellyn! Amroth, Thranduil, Inglor, Glorfindel, and other noble suitors not withstanding. Given time it usually wore down to into a brotherly affection. But, it was always best to know it for what it was. Her allure was just as much of a burden for her. Heartache was what had taught her to be cautious and not be drawn in by the ardent courtship of a besotted admirer. However, with this being an old acquaintance, Hrassa had thought there was nothing to worry about. So much for that! Neither had avoided the very pitfall pointed out to them! “Oh, do not even try to be disarming,” Celebrían teased with a flirty smile. “I am much better at it than you will ever be.”
“That, I concede.” Elrond smiled in return. An eyebrow raised in chagrined scrutiny. “But, there was no need to elicit a promise. You did not have to make me say it aloud in order for it to be true.”
“I confess I needed reassurance. I needed to hear that what I thought to be true was indeed.”
“I understand.” His eyes filled with sympathy. “There are few encouraging examples of how to becoming the protector of one’s parents. I wish I could assure you that all will be well. If only that were possible.”
There were some matters of state he simply felt he could not discuss with her. She thought to give him a way.
“Your opinion is possible. Tell me, will you, what you think of my fears?”
She was, Hrassa realized to his dislike, approaching Elrond for advice in the same way she would have approached her father. Because she no longer had her father to help her decide what she should do, she was looking to someone else whose words carried weight with her.
It made Hrassa nervous to see them looking so intensely at each other. On the outside, they acted like any two people determined to be friendly for the sake of a mutual cause; on the inside, they were each struggling with a great uncertainty about the person they thought they knew. To Hrassa, it was as clear an indication as needed to show there was no heart-bond between them. Otherwise, they would know each other’s feelings. Here was the makings of trouble, not love.
“My opinion will not comfort you,” Elrond gently admitted. “For in my honest judgment, there is no cause to be concerned for your parents or for Imladris. We both know the King would dare to try and hold the Lord and Lady hostage only as a guarantee of cooperation.” Grimness took over the caring expression he wore. “This war has only begun. Someone is going to have to finish it.”
“Yes,” she nodded sadly, before looking away. Her eyes blinked several times, perhaps blinking back tears.
A chill went down Hrassa’s spine. Long ago, Galadriel had said Gil-galad was doomed.
She had once said something of the like about Thingol, and that great king’s end was vastly contrary to what one is born knowing to be the natural order of things. Back then, Galadriel had harboured a terrible fear that her beloved’s fate was bound to his Aran’s. But, Celeborn had utterly changed the course of their lives and those of their followers’ by crossing over the mountains to establish a new realm. Proving on a grand scale that Will can thwart Fate. At least, particular people’s will. The particular sort of people wise enough to know what action should be taken, and then clever enough to see it done.
But, Celeborn was no longer capable of making change. Galadriel was no longer interested in anything but her beloved’s survival. So, who else might now divert events from the foreseeable? If leading an army into battle and to his death looked to be Gil-galad’s destiny, many lives bode to be part of it. Would Elrond survive to inherit a crown? Or would he die with his King? Celebrían had become the new leader of their nothrim. She had at last received her legacy. It remained to be seen if she indeed possessed every power her parents’ once wielded.
“Well do we know this place important,” Elrond told her. “More so in the future.” His lips compressed in consternation, as if what he would say was difficult to convey. “Would it not be wise for Nos Galadhad to finally make a solid alliance with Lindon? And, put a stop to the discord between our clans? For the sake of our people... For the sake of all our kind... ”
“Ada and Naneth would agree with you,” she softly replied. “As do I.” She was not looking at him, but at the sun-bathed hills opposite. “However, they would not agree to terms dictated by the King’s Council.” Her eyes returned to his, once more filled with steely determination. “Nor shall I. Never on the Council’s terms. Nor on Gil-galad’s. Only mine.”
Elrond’s brow furrowed, his eyebrows knitting together into the shape of a black raven descending. Hrassa was familiar with this expression of his, mostly in regards to himself. The lord was losing patience with what he perceived to be prideful stubbornness. Except, Celebrían’s stubbornness was not conceit, but rather courage. In answer to Elrond, Celebrían straightened up to her full height. With an aloof tilt of her head, she looked down her nose. Most would have been completely intimidated. Not Elrond. For he had courage too. Just not a lot of good sense sometimes, Hrassa chuckled to himself.
“Lord Celeborn would see this as an opportunity to give some in order to gain more. An investment with the potential of – ”
“Except, Gil-galad has a problem fairly paying out the profits to those he dislikes,” she snapped. “Do not bring my father into this! I am – “
“Then, do not you make the King out to be a villain. He is indisputably the noblest of rulers. One who does not resort to trickery! ‘Tis no mystery but history as to why he is no friend to either of your meddling parents! Or their bull-headed allies! It was your Ada that failed to – ”
“Oh no! The failure has been on Gil-galad’s part! He could not keep his crown on his own! He could not rule his Council! And before that, he could not win your mother’s heart! Yet somehow, he has succeeded in gaining yours! You take him for a father rather than your own!” “My own abandoned his children! And I was taken from the only other father I ever really had by yours! Make no mistake, I honor Ereinion as the one who should have been my father! And would truly have been but for help from yours!”
“Then why ever did you help him?” she demanded in fuming exasperation.
Elrond coming to their rescue after escape was cut off, eight hard years ago, no longer bewildered Hrassa. Celeborn always said the peredhel was a true prince, and given the chance he would show it. Although, Elrond was not the true prince Hrassa would ever pick for his true princess. While arguing, the two had gradually leaned in until they were in each other’s faces; their noses only a hair’s-breadth apart. Suddenly, Hrassa’s breath caught in his chest; his heart sounding a warning. If Elrond had the fortitude to kiss Celebrían at this very moment – right now – she would his – forever. Don’t! Don’t! Don’t!
“Because I ...” he started roughly, then finished smoothly. “It was the right and honorable thing to do.”
Celebrían jerked back as much as the close quarters allowed. Her lower lip pulled in for a moment, and she cast her eyes down to the river below. Her angry demeanor melted into ruefulness.
“Was it?” said she. “Well, your help came unlooked for, but was greatly welcomed, to be sure.” Her eyes closed, and she bowed her head in humility. “If my lord father never properly thanked you, I do so now. And I will do so publicly, if you wish. You saved his live and the lives of all those that were with him.”
“Now, ‘tis you leaving much unsaid. The Dain conspired to have Celebrimbor rule alone, and he chose to remain his King’s subject. Nos Galadhad was expelled and disregarded. Yet, your nothrim continued to prepare, willing to fight even for the fools that had rejected you. In spite of knowing that Sauron’s horde would be too great for any one realm to oppose.”
Celebrían’s glistening eyes returned to his, as he continued.
“Lord Celeborn’s decision for a planned withdrawal was wise. He conducted it with genius. He should not have needed my help. But, who would or could have guessed Celebrimbor would stay behind to die. And as to gratitude, your lord father has shown more than enough... and unwarranted trust besides.”
“Elrond,” she said softly, placing her hand lightly upon his arm. “Your decision to fight was not an easy one either.”
The prince looked warily at her, as if fearing what she might say next.
“I know it was not Lindon’s decision but your choice to aid Eregion. And that you did so without leave.”
Elrond’s face fell. She knew something that had been held a close secret. Then, his face filled with shame. For what he had done could easily be construed as an act of treason, regardless of a final outcome of victory. No noble lady would esteem any person capable of such a crime.
““I cannot fault you,” she said. “Your situation required a personal choice. Fortunately, you had Glorfindel to smooth things over for you.” A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
Elrond swallowed in relief. She had judged him not innocent but not a criminal either.
Hrassa did not like being reminded of Glorfindel. Right now, the one supposedly dedicated to protecting Turgon’s heirs was riding with the King and the Númenorean lords on their way to Imladris. He was not sure what he might say to the reborn Exile upon seeing him again. He strongly disapproved of Glorfindel staying behind when his charge headed off into dire danger. The captain should have done whatever was necessary to accompany the prince on his unsanctioned mission.
“I shall be happy to see the captain again, will not you?” she asked, her smile brightening
Elrond’s face coloured slightly.
Hrassa huffed. The last thing he needed now was for a rivalry to start between the prince and his bodyguard over the princess. In a reverse, Gil-galad might try to use Elrond’s well-being against Glorfindel in an attempt to salvage his grab for the valley. The captain had stayed in custody to appease the King’s anger. What more would he do in order to keep his charge out of a prison cell?
“He is not being held hostage,” Elrond insisted. “He could not join up with me and the troop, since there was no way to find us once we broke through and made for here.”
“Indeed he is and indeed he could,” she insisted in return. “I say he was prevented, and is bond for your renewed obedience. Else you would have dealt with our dilemma before I had to resort to... “ She donned a mock devious grin. “... trickery.” The joking grin changed to a sideways glare. “How can I not anticipate the same treatment were my parents at the King’s mercy?”
“Perhaps you are right,” was his sudden and surprising concession. He looked out over the valley. A weight seemed to be pushing down his shoulders. But then, he braced up and went on. “Alas, but there is another alternative to a confrontation.” He kept his eyes averted. “Live up to your name, Celebrían. Unite our Houses.”
Celebrían froze stockstill. If Elrond was too distracted to notice, Hrassa was not. She and Hrassa both anxiously held their breath.
“Wed the King.”
Hrassa’s pent up breath exploded from his body. Idiot!! Celebrían coiled back in fury. Her hand flew off Elrond’s arm and poised in air beside her; set to strike the offender that had tread on a sensitive spot. Sensitivity that had come from being asked repeatedly why she had not married Gil-galad when it meant a crown for her head.
“If you mean to vex me as punishment for pushing you around, well you have succeeded,” she practically hissed. His obvious confusion at her reaction to his suggestion merely invited her to bite deeper than she might have. “Would you think it well done if my father had wed Luthien?”
“Fanuilos, no.” He was utterly shocked by the idea.
Hrassa allow himself a mean grin. Poor Elrond considered himself a descendent of Elu Thingol. He did not think of himself as Elmoi, any more than did Erienion about himself. Although, both had Elmoi foremothers. And that blasphemous interjection, though rare for Elrond to use, was most certainly not inherited from a Noldor forbearer.
“Many at the time earnestly solicited it of Thingol and Melian. Eager to see the bloodlines reunited for the sake of order and power.” She did not slap his face as expected, but did poke hard at the offender’s chest.
Hrassa would have wagered that she knew Elrond had never learned this tidbit from the Elder Days. And why would he? It was not written down anywhere, only sang about amongst the Doriathrim.
“Their degree of kinship is no different than my kinship with Gil-galad,” she coldly pointed out. “He is my mother’s great nephew. It was said back then that the closeness of blood would be overlooked for the great benefit. Which was what you were about to argue, no?” She once more leaned into his face. “It was inappropriate then, it is inappropriate now.” Her eyes narrowed menacingly. “And if you ever suggest such a thing again, I will punch you black and blue.”
“I apologize,” he said, sketching a very shallow bow that almost bumped his forehead to hers. “If I ever do, you definitely should.”
“You are pardoned.” She stood up straight and turned up her nose. Her eyelids slide down until her eyes became mere slits. Her resolute mouth pursed. “Gil-galad however will pay for making you probe for my reaction.”
They looked sideways at each other. Then, abruptly broke into laughter. Elrond shook his head.
“Oh, I do not even care what any of you do to him!” The prince was smiling as he said this; genuinely back to the old self Hrassa had become use to. “My future is painfully plain: endless restitution. Whatever the outcome of your campaign of succession, I shall be packed off to Forlindon and be on parole for rest of my life. And only a handful of people will ever know why.” He sighed. “Not that it will be so different from having been on probation all my life.” He looked down to the fortress. “I will miss this place... and the company... the friends I have made... your father and even your mother... “ He raised his eyes to her. “... and you.”
Their correspondence would necessarily have to stop. Not that Hrassa thought it all that bad of a consequence considering what having shared their thoughts, if only on paper, was drawing them into doing now that they had met face to face.
“I suppose no lord can be seen to reward disregard,” said a subdued Celebrían. She placed her hand back on his arm, and it was obvious Elrond took pleasure in her kindly touch. “At least, ‘twas actually no worse than that.” She glanced over at Hrassa, giving him a sharp but playful look. “Certainly, not on a par with treason or desertion.”
He feigned ignorance as to whatever she might be referring. Why, he had only wandered off for spell, as would any full-blooded, forest-born Laegel on occasion.
“I, on the other hand, choose to follow my parents’ example and be overly generous with recalcitrant heroes.” She looked into Elrond’s eyes. “No matter whom they have sworn to serve.” The prince’s eyes turned apprehensive; hers devoid of any artifice. “I think, as is my right, I shall name you Lord of Imladris.”
Elrond was dumbfounded – and profoundly alarmed.
Hrassa hardly managed to hold back an interjection that would have for sure gotten him a good slap. But, she had said nothing of this to him! Had it just now popped into her head to bestow a potential kingdom upon someone she though she fancied? The dell was not a pretty wild-flower to give away in a flirtatious gesture!
“Ah, you wonder at this gift? Is it another trick?” She smiled like a sly cat. “Well, yes. You have tasted independence, and I think you would thrive given more. Mine would be the hand that feeds you.”
For a second time, Hrassa’s jaw dropped. She spoke as would have Elrovail. Deep inside, he felt a familiar twinge of sadness. His feelings of loss had faded, but remained very present. The dark-elf hiril would have been thrilled to see her influence so plainly manifested.
“Continue to be Erienion’s unfailing ally and friend, if you wish. That would be your right as a Lord. But, as said before, it should be on no one’s terms but your own.”
Elrond being tempted in this manner bothered Hrassa not. There was a distinct difference between the young ellon meant to be prince for Harlindon and this worthy warrior-prince already ruling Imladris. The peredhel was no longer happy being under the Kings’s thumb.
“I cannot... “ But then watching him, one could see Elrond finally admit to himself that he could. Therefore, he next said quite adamantly, “I will not pledge obedience to Nos Galadhad.”
“No one expects you to.” She was a little annoyed that he thought she did. “A Lord must make his own allegiances. Because, he must always do what is best for his people. Yours are the people already here, already under your rule and protection. And more will be coming to join them. All I or any other lord expects from you is the same respect and cooperation that you are given from them. That is how Lindarin politics has always been done.”
“Politics more how the Elmoi have done it, I should think.” He eyed her with suspicion. “And if I chose Gil-galad to be my suzerain?”
“Personally, I would question your judgment. Do not get riled! What I meant is that I question your judgment in choosing to have any overlord at all. Besides, knowing what kind he would be.”
Hrassa agreed. Where was Gil-galad when Celebrimbor had needed him? Not once but twice, the King’s support had severely lacked. Also, this place was far from any other Elven neighbor, let alone a royal realm. The holdfast must remain hidden. That was its greatest advantage. Outside aid would always have to be limited. Like his princess, the bowman felt it crucial for Imladris to become self-reliant.
“He will detest me,” Elrond bemoaned, suddenly regretful. “As much as he detests Oropher.” He was deterred by the outcome with Gil-galad, while at the same time, tantalized by an outcome with Celebrían. “How can I possibly accept your offer and not be a traitor?” His hand rose and covered hers where it rested upon his arm. “He will claim you beguiled me into it.”
“But, my lord,” she said with extremely false sweetness. “I have offered you nothing.” Elrond took her hint and quickly removed his hand. She dropped the smile for an expression that meant business.
Hrassa recognized that look of hers. The ruschên likely had this hunt all planned out from the beginning. So far, she looked to have gotten everyone into position and her friend to the spot where she needed him to be. She seemed committed to having him take down the prey and claim the trophy. If he balked, he would not only go home empty-handed, so would she.
“When Gil-galad seeks to make me concede the valley,” she patiently explained, “by showing that he can apply a greater force than mine, rather than lose altogether, I shall grasp for a compromise. That will be you. At that time, I shall let him learn that I am called away to Edhellond by Amroth. So, I am obliged to go, and that will leave you in sole control.”
“Wait... “ Elrond halted her. He thought for a moment. “His escort is – “ He stopped himself from divulging what he really was not suppose to talk about. “ – said to number close to the number of our Lindoni troops. Setting aside the Men on both sides as neutrals, I would not think him able to equal to your possible combined forces.”
“Within the stronghold, his number shall be the greater. I am assuming he has been told that the wood-elves are too distant for me to count on to effectively even the odds in my favor.”
“They are not,” stated Elrond. He always kept close track of all his resources and knew where every troop laid-over. “The new bivouac is only a day away at the most.” He glanced over at Hrassa, who had brought the last dispatch from the Silvan captain. His baffled expression abruptly became enlightened. “But, no one is going to tell him that, are they... ”
“No. Unless of course... you do.”
He ran an anxious hand over the top his sleek head.
“You need not decide now,” she told him. “Think on it.”
“I will have to. For if I do this, many will call it rebellion or betrayal. If I do this, I can never return to Forlindon. In fact, I shall be banned from Lindon entirely.”
“You think so?” She sniffed in disdain. “I suppose some fathers’ love is conditional. Ask yourself: would you miss that city as much as you would miss this valley?”
“Inwrusc... “ he growled at her.
Hrassa had to put his hand over his mouth to hold in his laughter. That Elrond should call her that! And to her face!
“You are your father’s daughter,” the perplexed prince went on. “But by all the stars, you are your mother’s too.” He turned to scan the river valley from end to end, his eyes coming to rest upon the waterfall. “Leaving here... never to return... would break my heart.”
“Forgive me for being glad of that.” A sincere light shone from her leafy eyes. However, Elrond was not looking at her to see it. She seemed happy at that though, since she could then gaze at him as closely as she pleased. “Look,” she eventually said. “The sun is setting. Perhaps you should get back and inform your poor captains how things stand.”
Elrond sighed and nodded. It was then he looked at her again.
“And if you might,” she asked of him, “further forgive me my curiosity, what shall you tell them?”
“Where Celeborn commanded the field, now I shall. Where I commanded the hold, now you shall. ‘Tis more appropriate for you to stay behind walls and manage our victuals. I shall admit I neglected to ask you to wait to start until after the next council when I could announce the change. The resulting confusion being entirely my fault.”
“You should say also that I apologized for being overly anxious. All that has happened this past fortnight with my father has been a strain. They will chalk up your forbearance of my gender’s nervous nature to your exceedingly noble one.”
“Yes, and certainly there is no need to tell them that this is not your first command.” He smiled at her, donning a boorish mime and matching tone of voice. “Listen, I do not need any lessons in leadership from you. I have completed more than enough lessons given me, not only by the same instructor as has taught you, but several other masters besides.”
Again, they broke out into shared laughter. Neither considered that they had that much experience at being in charge, but both knew someone who did not realize that fact about himself.
“Please do not do mock even that fool again,” she begged him. “Or surely they will say I have made you my puppet. So, shall I see you at supper?”
Hrassa huffed. They tended to sit side by side whenever together at table. Supper would be just one more opportunity for their attraction to turn into disaster. From now on, he was going to have to keep a sharp eye on every situation where they met.
“Sorry, but I have other business besides your mischief to attend to. We shall meet at the Fire?”
“Yes, of course.”
“And you shall dance? Even with me? You may have agreed in a moment of weakness, but I intend to hold you to it.”
“Yes, of course, we shall dance. I have been looking forward to it.”
It would be the first time for dancing at a Fire since Celeborn could no longer attend. With his dying so close by, it had not seemed right to cavort around the blaze as usual. Everyone would welcome the Lord’s daughter as much as announcing it was proper again. On his part, he would have to remind Celebrían not to show favor for any one partner. In particular, Elrond.
“Later, then,” smiled the prince.
“Later,” the princess smiled in return.
Elrond went back down the trail in dimming light; being careful to keep the rope mostly in hand.
Hrassa and Celebrían stayed until the stars came out.
There were no torches along the trail. Starlight alone was always enough for a forest-dweller to see by at night. However this night, the moon was full and riding high in the sky. The valley was bathed in silver light. Down within the fortress, a warm orange glow had kindled.
The cogndír moved closer to the princess and stood by her side, quite comfortable where Elrond had had to squeeze in.
“Why’d you arrange things this way?” he finally ventured to ask.
“Have you not paid attention? Amroth needs me in Edhellond. Most of our Galadhrim’ll go with me. Elrond cares for the people here, and he has set aside the past. I can safely leave the people and my parents in his hands. Most of all, I own him, and he deserves this chance.”
“Why’d you let him know that you have to leave?”
“I s’pose we do trust each other more than we should.” She sighed. “In truth, I don’t want to burden us with the same accusation that’s haunted my parents all their lives.”
“He might still bargain with Gil-galad.” In Hrassa’s estimation and clearly in Celebrían’s too, Elrond had not yet learned how to play both sides at the same time, let alone against each other.
“Well, if he does that, he’s not who I think he is.” She paused, silent for a short while. “If he sticks with Gil-galad, I’ll be sticking here. Amroth’ll simply have to understand.”
He nodded, satisfied. Later, he would arrange a signal from himself for a rider to fetch the Silvan from the new camp, just in case it was needed.
“Cliff, might I ask what you’re going to do? Now that you haven’t a place with Ada?”
The question jarred. He had so far succeeded in avoiding facing the fact that he was of no further use to the Lord and Lady as their personal agent. Celeborn no longer led his House. Galadriel would not leave his side. Their successor had the responsibility to see that he was placed in a new position where he could earn a good livelihood.
“I could use an experienced bowman.” When he did not answer her, she looked over at him. “Forgive me, but circumstances are what they are. For all of us. Comes the opportunity to have something I’ve wanted since the day we met, I’ll not let it slip past.”
“My lady, when your Ada’s able to travel, shall we return here to fetch them home ourselves?”
“That task l’d share with none else but you. Aurthôn and Laerlínath can help us, if they choose to.”
“That bein’ so, if the Lady’ll give me leave on behalf of the Lord, I’d be honored to be your bowman.”
“Thank you, Cogndír! And the honor is wholly mine!”
He knelt to her, right there on the dangerous ledge. Few of any sort of elf could have accomplished this without falling. Her appreciative laughter at his daring was unexpected, and his pure enjoyment of the sound surprised him. He had often heard her laughter, dried her tears, told her old tales, hunted and feasted with her, taught her to fight, pulled her by the ear when warranted, and had protected her for almost all her life. It felt right and good to finally be hers. And terrible to no longer be Caun-anim’s.
“You are such a good hound.” She jokingly patted his lowered head. “I promise you shall have a good home with me. There’ll continue to be plenty of tasty bones for you to gnaw on.”
“Woof... ”
- *~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* -
All words are in Sindarin unless indicated otherwise. Underlined means constructed by me.
hithlain – elven silk-like fiber
edhil and firinath – “elves and humans”
mithril – ‘true’ silver
peredhel – ‘half elf’ Elronds family name is Peredhil – Half-Elven (Elves)
cogndîr – bowman Nandorin
nos – a family or household
nothrim – members of a household or a clan
naneth/nana – mother/mom
adar/ada – father/dad
aran – king(also translates as ‘Lord’ for it means the ruler of a realm, not just royalty)
ellon/elleth – elf male/female
ellyn/ellith – elves male/female
ruschên – fox child
inwrusc – fox bitch
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