Summary: In T.A. 2509, Celebrian was making the journey from Imladris to Lothlorien over the Hithaeglir (Misty Mountains) through the Pass of Caradhras, when they were set upon by orcs. Accompanying her were her chief ladies, including her devoted Niniel, and her guards, including Niniel's husband Magolion (these two are Emma's and my OC's and have known both Celebrian and her naneth Galadriel since they were young.)

A/N: Niniel calls Celebrian by the Quenya form of her name, Telpetári. Neither she or Magolion are particularly fond of Sindarin, so Niniel generally speaks Quenya to Celebrian.

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"Telpetári!"

How many times over the yéni have I heard that from my former nursemaid's lips? Snapped in exasperation at my wild and tomboyish ways, crooned with fondness as she cooed over my beauty. But now...this time, for the first time, it is a scream of terror. Terror rending the air. I am in a daze. Surrounded by the peaks of the Hithaeglir, we have been set upon by yrch.

"Telpetári!"

Again, louder. Niniel is frantic. I draw my sword and fight alongside my escort. These hours of training may have earned Niniel's disapproval, but now I sense naught but horrified, reluctant acceptance. She bears no weapon. She knows not what to do.

Magolion, her husband, rides at the head of our party. He fights fiercely, a determined glint in his eyes. A fell warrior is he; he has no charm, no love  for the folk of the Sindar, my father's kin, but though my cousin Thranduil is wont to call him 'son of yrch', yrch are his greatest foes, and now he shows it. Steel flies. Then arrows. Blood...where did that come from? Am I wounded? I do not feel it.

 The next thing I see is a whirl of russet gold, Niniel's hair flying unbound as she throws herself before me and we tumble to the ground. "Telpetári! Pitya lapsë...yeldenya, hinya, blood, there is so much blood...Telpetári..." She is frantic, holding me. "My sons..." I gasp. "They are coming, Niniel...my sons..." I have no time for her refusal to stop coddling me.

"It is too late," Niniel whispers, clutching me close to her, and my hope begins to die. Is this truly the end? "Tye-melin, ammelda yeldenya...Telpetárinya..." My Telpetári.

 "Tye-melin, Niniel," I respond, as darkness swims up to claim me. The last thing I feel is her body going limp, before oblivion swallows me.

 The End

Quenya:

Telpetári - "silver queen", Quenya equivalent of "Celebrian"

Pitya lapsë...yeldenya, hinya - Little baby, my daughter, my child (while Bri isn't literally her daughter, she thinks of her that way as she was Bri's nursemaid).

Tye-melin, ammelda yeldenya - I love thee, my best beloved daughter