Chapter 5 - Imladris Redux

Elrond stretched his long legs out beneath his desk even as his arms reached upward as if they would trace the ceiling’s carved details with his thin fingers. Can it be true? She is gone. Yes, it is true! Celeborn has taken Galadriel out walking. A fine elf, Celeborn, ever mindful of his friends and knowledgeabe and quick to see that his wife grew wroth. And Glorfindel. Glorfindel has gone off to torment Erestor? I am almost sure of it. For he did have a look of wondrous joy on his face as he left me, and he was laughing softly. Alas, poor Erestor! Still, better Erestor than myself. Yes, life was indeed sweet to Elrond as he savored that, for the first time in well over a month, there was not a single blond elf in sight. No golden nor silver nor wheat nor even honey tresses were to be seen. Elrond smiled in deep satisfaction.

"Is she always so. . .intense?"

That Elrond was brave would not be gainsaid by even his enemies. To say that he fought well at Dagorlad was also a given, for he had looked into the face of Sauron himself and not quailed and had served Gil-Galad even unto that brave warrior’s fall and beyond.

Still, right now and at this moment, to say that Elrond almost jumped out of his skin at the sound of BW’s unexpected voice was also too true. For once New Zealand had been discussed and roughly plotted so that his cartographers could draw the necessary maps, in truth, Elrond had forgotten the maiden’s presence.

Excuse might be made for him perhaps because of the arrival of the escorts with their honored guests. Then Glorfindel’s and Celeborn’s reports had absorbed him. And Gil-Galad’s presence yet again after all these years! And Thranduil’s son in full princely regalia (which sight for some reason made Elrond more than a little nervous) and Galadriel’s wrath at the news of the poachers added to all. All of these things had made it quite easy for Elrond to forget one rather plain maiden who was doing her very best to keep a low profile in the corner seat of his library.

"I beg your pardon? Elrond might be startled, but his self-control was great and his voice cool and steady. "Of whom do you speak, my lady?"

"The tall blonde one. You know, Lord Celeborn’s wife."

Interesting way to describe Galadriel. Lord Celeborn’s wife. None of this the "Lady of Light" for this young one. If she continues thus as she begins, will she live to grow old? Lord Celeborn’s wife!

"The Lady Galadriel is wroth at what has been done to her kin as are we all." Elrond bowed his head in reverent thought of the fallen children that Celeborn’s own hands had so recently buried. Tears brightened his eyes although his will forbade them to fall, and his heart ached within his breast, for Elrond loved children above all else.

They will think me cold and will embrace Galadriel in love as she openly weeps with them. I have not her skill in loving openly. So much pain in my own heart, and yet I know not how to share it with them, and so they will think me cold, and perhaps they will be right. Perhaps there is no love in my heart. If so, why then does that cold heart hurt me so now, and why will, in the deep reaches of the night, no sleep find me as I weep alone for these children lost to us?

 "She was present at the birthing of most of the children who are gone, and she grieves. Judge her not harshly, my lady."

"I do not judge her at all. Gil-Galad has taught me to be slow to do that. Still, I think she does frighten me a little."

"You are in her favor with your knowledge of New Zealand, and I believe you have naught to fear from her, especially as Celeborn speaks well of you." Says you’re smart but can’t ride a horse to save your life, and that Orophin has been heard muttering about resigning if he has to ride after you one more time. "Your chambers are to your liking? I asked my daughter to keep yours near her own for I fear Imladris is confusing, and oft do new guests lose their paths here. Arwen has promised to be your guide."

"She’s been lovely! I didn’t know she was your daughter for she was so warm and friendly."

And I, of course, am none of that! Galadriel seems to have yet another ally in her thinking. Still, the maiden is mortal and appears not to know that she has just given offense. Now, an elf would have made sure that the offense was intentional, and that I knew it. And they wonder and murmur and say that I prefer mortals to my own kind? One should be grateful, I suppose, that in their hearts they even deem me their kind, what with all this "Peredhil" that they ever name me.

"Yes, she is my youngest child. Her twin brothers are not yet returned to Imladris from their duties but perhaps you shall meet them e’er you sail." He was about to make further courteous inquiry after her comfort when he was interrupted by the door of the library bursting open and the sight of his daughter flying through it and straight into his arms.

"Adar! You must know! Glorfindel sent me ahead to bring you word. Aragorn seeks Legolas to bring him here lest the shock be too much for him."

Her wildness startled Elrond, for normally his daughter remembered well the lessons of her mother and moved quietly and gently through the public places of Imladris. He caught her close against his chest and soothed her.

"Hush, then, and speak these words that you were sent to deliver. Has harm befallen someone that you fly to me in such alarm?"

"Nay, my father, it is an unlooked for coming, one that has long been past all our hopes, and now he is come back from the wilderness where he sought his brother for so long."

"Can it be? Speak, child, for I dare not let my heart hope at your words. Speak and quickly!"

Taking a deep breath, Arwen withdrew from her father’s arms and bowed to him as was her duty and yet also her joy.

"My lord Elrond, Gilúviel hath returned. Glorfindel and I walked in the gardens before the gates and saw him ride through. At our appearance, he stopped his horse and began to dismount. So weary was he, though, that his legs could not hold him erect, and he fell senseless at our feet. Glorfindel carries him here that you may judge if he be injured as well as exhausted."

Gilúviel! That child indeed has Ilúvatar’s favor if this be true, for even Thranduil had ceased to hope to see his son again and wept bitterly that he had sent the second son to find the first and so lost them both. None had yet been brave enough to tell Legolas that his brother waited not for him in their father’s house, and his constant joy at the prospect of their reunion had been a reproach to them all and had so angered Gil-Galad that he had written to Elrond that he himself would end this cruelty of false hope when he returned from the Havens. And now, Gilúviel. . .

Elrond’s thoughts were stilled as Glorfindel entered the room, bending as ever his head beneath the lintel of the great door that even so was too low for his height. In his strong arms, he cradled as tenderly as a child an elf clad in torn and travel-stained garments of the Woodland Realm. So deathly pale and still was Glorfindel’s burden that Elrond’s heart misgave him even as he reached for his healing bag. Only the raven hair that spilled over Glorfindel’s arm seemed to be yet alive as it shone softly in the candles of the room.

"Lay him upon the couch and remove his tunic but be gentle for I fear that there may be hidden wounds." Glorfindel did as Elrond bade him and helped Arwen carefully cut open the tunic and take it from the slender form. Elrond knelt beside the couch then and began to probe the body he had known since its childhood scrapes had been brought to him for healing and wise words as to how to best preserve the dark elfling from the mad adventures that sprang ever from the blond head of his brother. The words Elrond knew had never been heeded, for whither Legolas would go, there also went Gilúviel and what one would venture, the other must also try. "There are wounds but they are not new and are healing cleanly. The bruising is recent, perhaps today but no further back than yesterday." Elrond rose again to his feet and looked down at the young elf with grave concern still lingering in his eyes, for he did not like this dreadful stillness even as his fingers had probed where they must hurt. "We must keep watch until we know whether it is merely weariness that has brought him so low or some fell and unseen wound."

"Ai, Gilúviel, give him to me and hold me not!" With a wild cry, Legolas tore himself from Aragorn’s strong grasp and flew to his brother’s side. No one had time to stop him, for so intent were they on caring for the dark elf that none had heard the approach of the fair.

Legolas knelt and gently covered Gilúviel’s still form with his arms and hair as he bent to kiss the bare flesh beneath him and bathe it with his anguished tears. For on their journey from the archery fields back to Imladris, Aragorn had had no choice save to tell Legolas quickly and roughly of the long and perilous journey undertaken by Gilúviel to seek his brother’s freedom or to bring his body back to their father. Never would Aragorn forget the fear that had filled his friend’s eyes as he began to run back to Elrond’s home.

That Legolas’ grief was so silent frightened Aragorn most for, save for that one cry as he freed himself, the elf made no sound with his weeping and moved not at all except for the soft kissing of Gilúviel’s bruised and torn flesh again and again. Aragorn was grateful when Glorfindel’s strong hands lifted Legolas’ from his knees and pulled him erect, holding him against his own strong chest and letting him continue to weep silently as Glorfindel held him.

"Hush, Legolas, let Elrond do his work and soon your brother will be back among us and laughing at you for your fears. He has not come so far to find you that Master Elrond would let him slip from your grasp at the last. You know how stubborn the Peredhil can be!" Glorfindel smiled at the raised eyebrow that Elrond directed at him and continued to rub Legolas’ back as gently as any mother with her frightened babe. Somehow the Peredhil himself drew comfort from his old friend’s confidence in his skills. He bent to his work and hoped that that confidence was justified.

*****

"Come, dear lady, for my father has left, and we shall creep into the room and see with our own eyes that Gilúviel is better." BW felt Arwen’s warm hand grasping her own as she led her with great quiet down the halls of Imladris. Something in Arwen’s voice told her that this daughter of Elrond was now lacking in courage and needed her friend’s support to enter the chamber where all her fears lay in the healer’s keeping. "Fain would I behold Gilúviel for he has been my friend since childhood and ever my protector, and I do so love him that my heart can scarce believe yet that he has returned among us. How my soul wept for him when I thought he would ne’er return and in my dreams beheld his torn body as it lay alone in some fell land!"

"But he has returned, Arwen, and your father is a great healer. Surely, he will keep safe one who seems so precious to all!"

"Think you so? I tell myself that this is true, and yet still I fear. BW, thou must not leave me alone until we know!"

"I shall be at your side, Arwen, but he will be alright. I believe in Master Elrond’s powers to heal!" The grateful squeeze of her hand by Arwen was her only answer, and together the maidens crept down the long hallway to Legolas’ chambers, for there they had brought his brother for healing as the place that he was most loved and so would best strengthen.

Softly they entered the chambers of Legolas and without knocking, for Arwen knew the prince as her brother and feared him not. Her breath caught as she beheld the two she had so long known, and tears filled her eyes at the aching sadness that lay before her.

For Legolas lay with his back propped against the carved headboard of his bed and in his arms he cradled Gilúviel, his brother. The dark elf slept yet with his face pressed into the soft pillow of his brother’s body, and his black hair covered his face and spilled upon the embroidery of Legolas’ night tunic, so that its ebony threads mingled with those of gold and mithril and shamed them with their dark beauty. Legolas smiled at them and placed his finger to his lips.

"Hush, for he sleeps still and long have I labored this night to give him rest, for his fever burned unto the early morning’s first pale thrustings against the darkness and only then was broken. Arwen, your coming gladdens my heart for we have known one another since childhood, and my Gilúviel would gladly have his sister’s lips greet his own. Watch you with your maiden yet but a little for soon he will wake, as even now he stirs and clutches at my body and hides his face against it as if to hold back the morn."

Legolas smiled and softly bent to kiss the cheek of his sleeping brother. "Ever has he done that as we slept together all the years of our growing and ever in one bed despite Adar’s attempts to tell us that princes slept apart from each other and were brave alone. In this matter only was Adar’s will ever thwarted, for none could separate us, not even Thranduil the Ferocious."

As if hearing the name of his beloved father, Gilúviel stirred and felt the soft light of morning enter into him. Yet still half wakened, he sensed that he no longer journeyed nor was he afraid, for beneath his cheek were not the sharp stones of the wayside but a soft pillow of flesh whose scent his very being knew, and Gilúviel sighed and breathed deeply the scent of his brother and let go the burden of his fear that for so long he had carried.

And Legolas felt this sundering of the shadow from his brother, and his own heart he lifted up and gave thanks to Ilúvatar for the gift of his brother again beside him.

"Legolas, you are not a dream? I have dreamed dreams so oft and yet woke alone."

"I am not a dream, my brother, and ne’er will we be parted again. This I promise you, for no greater love have I in me than what I bear for you, and the time of our separation has been too sorrowful almost to endure."

"Aye, brother, for ever did I feel that more than half of me was not present if I saw not your face nor heard your voice in any day. Never be so far from me again!" Then did Gilúviel bury his face in the body of his brother, and his slender arms held on fiercely to the loved flesh as if to defy all of Mordor to take it from him yet again.

"Ai, Gilúviel, ever were your bowman’s arms stronger than even mine! Would you tear your brother’s body asunder with the greatness of your love for him? Let me breathe, my dear one, and rise and turn your face to greet our Arwen, for she has crept early from her bed and would hold you even as I do."

And the dark elf sat up then and beheld his adopted sister and stretched out his long arms to her with great joy. And she wept as she flew to the shelter of those arms, but the tears were of joy this time, and none tried to stem their flow as both brothers embraced her and buried their faces in her beautiful hair and kissed her again and again amid their mingled tears and laughter.

At last did Arwen release her fears from her heart and dry her tears as she nestled in the strong arms of Gilúviel and with Legolas beside them. Only then did she remember her that her friend she had abandoned in the first rush of joy at this reunion, and her eyes sought the far dark corner of the room where BW had retreated to allow the elves the comfort of each other.

"My lady! Come forth and join us, for here there is great joy and I would share it with the loyal friend who has supported me in my night of anxious waiting. Come and know two of my brothers, for Gilúviel who was lost to us is now found." Arwen held out her hand to her friend and beckoned that she should approach the bed.

As the maiden left the shadows to do her friend’s bidding, the dark elf shook back his hair and turned to face her and then did BW hear the sharp intake of his breath as he first beheld her clearly and she him.

She felt the world before her growing dim as it suddenly seemed to swirl out of control before her, and she tried desperately to focus her eyes against what she thought she saw and yet could not believe. She stretched out her hand to him and tried to walk the short distance between them and could not. Her voice was soft and broken as she gasped aloud, "Zippy!"

Then did darkness fall upon her, and the maiden BW fell to the floor.

*****

"You are truly not dead?" BW looked up into the serious faces bending down over her and realized that she was now in the same bed with the two elven brothers and Arwen. Her head was pillowed on Arwen’s lap, and she felt the cool hands of her friend stroking her hair, but she had eyes only for the dark elf who was holding her own hand very gently.

"Nay, I am not dead, nor even close if Lord Elrond is to be believed. I was overcome by the sun and old wounds and my lack of food and weariness, but he tells me that indeed I am not dead. I need only rest Elrond tells me and to eat more than I want. Not such a bad thing, and I am glad I am not dead. And what of yourself? Are you dead, my lady?" He grinned at her, and she wanted to grin back, but somehow her whole body seemed too confused to obey her simplest commands.

"You can talk."

He laughed at that and stroked her hand. "Aye, and I thank you for finally noticing after well over a year, nay, almost two. However, you were very funny with all those gestures you used to communicate with us. Oft it was all we could do not to fall down laughing at your attempts."

BW had the grace to cringe inwardly at the arrogance of the research team that had assumed that Phoebos, BandAid, Zippy and the other elves they studied were lower beings and without language. She tried to hide her red face against Arwen, but the dark elf took her chin firmly in his fingers and made her look at him.

"It was very funny, and you were kind to all of us, so we forgave you at least. The others. . ." He shrugged elegantly. "The others mattered not."

"I was sure the poachers had taken you for I did come back and try and find some trace of you on my own, but there was none."

"Nay, the poachers did not take me although they came at last." He lowered his eyes for a moment and seemed uncertain how to proceed. Softly he spoke the words as if he was loathe that she hear them, "my lady, BandAid they killed."

"Not BandAid! Oh, Zippy, he was so gentle!" Tears spilled down her cheeks at the memory of the lunatic young elf bedecked in bandaids and hanging from his knees from a tree branch, so that she scrambled to take frantic field notes of his aberrant behavior, even as she now knew he laughed at her then with great fondness.

"Aye, he was gentle, and he trusted too easily in men. Lady, his name was Culviénen, and he was my friend." The dark elf’s head was lowered and his voice soft. "He lured them away from me and saved my life although then I knew it not. He resisted them to buy me time to give warning to the palace, and so he died hard. They hewed him to pieces in their anger and drunkeness. When I learned of it, I returned with Thranduil’s warriors, and we killed them all the next night and buried my friend quickly so that his mother might not see what they had done to her son. Then did Thranduil send me to Galadriel for safekeeping for he knew that they would seek revenge on me. With Legolas away with the Ringbearer and Culviénen slain, it mattered not to me where I stood to die, and I did obey my father. In the war, I fought with the Galadhrim as oft we do. I thought not to survive the fierce battles of the Golden Wood, but I was cursed to return to my emptiness with only the smallest hope that my brother might yet live. Ai, it is no matter what befell me after the loss of this gentle one and my brother. Culviénen’s mother turned her face from us at his death, and she gave herself to grief and was lost to us who loved her, for he was the last child of her husband’s loins left to comfort her. All are now gone before me. All those fair brothers, and yet I remain."

And still BW cried for Culviénen and would not be comforted by Arwen’s soft words. Gilúviel suddenly pulled her up into his arms and held her almost fiercely and stroked her hair and gradually her sobbing grew quieter. "Lady, it is good that you mourn him, for he cared for you as did we all. You were different from the others, and we knew it. Still, he would not have you make yourself sick with weeping, for you know full well how he loved laughter most of all. Laugh for him instead of weeping when next you feel the sun upon you or the cool breeze through the trees and remember his gentle ways and all those sticky things you gave him that he would then paste all over the rest of us to our great annoyance. He would like that better than your tears, my lady. Did you know that he was the one who dared Phoebus to ride the spider?" She shook her head, and a small smile came through the tears.

"I always thought it was you."

"Aye, your BandAid was ever innocent to you!" He laughed and then grew still. To her surprise, he suddenly kissed her cheek. "That was for him. He always dared me to kiss you, and I always refused. I hope that in Mandos he can see that at last I have found my courage. I miss him, my lady." He sighed. "In truth, I have missed you as well if that matters to you at all."

"It matters, Zippy. It matters more than you ever will know."

*****

Elrond had decreed a week of rest in bed for Gilúviel, with nourishing food and quiet and perhaps the company of his brother. That would make him strong again declared the healer, and all listened gravely to his words and nodded at his wisdom.

And so it came to pass that the chambers of Legolas became a scene of utter chaos, for all gathered there to attend the sufferer, or so they said, and there they did lay the plans that must needs be put into effect for their revenge. And instead of quiet and Legolas, came Gimli the Dwarf and Aragorn and Arwen and the fair brothers of the Galadhrim with their lord and lady and Glorfindel to attend them. And the Peredhil did despair for his patient, for if he found not Arwen at the foot of the bed laughing loudly and snorting at Aragorn’s terrible jokes, then in her place would be the tall lady of the Galadhrim, deep in discussion with Legolas and chewing thoughtfully upon her quill as she wrote down their Plan as she sat cross-legged upon the bed. Indeed, the only quiet one that Elrond could ever see was the small maiden BW, who ever sat upon the bed beside Gilúviel and regularly handed him the strengthening tonics that the healer gave her for him and made sure that his lunch fell not to the depredations of the preoccupied blond elf and the dwarf, who ever plotted as they sat alongside Gilúviel’s other side, often coming close to blows as they discussed who should have the honor of first smiting the dissection team.

Elrond thought often to ban all from the sick chambers, but then he would regard Galadriel’s face as she chewed her quill, and his heart would misgive him to speak words she would not like to hear. And Elrond called himself a coward many times, but he also noted that Gilúviel did strengthen almost because of the chaos rather than in spite of it. As long as Legolas and the maiden were beside him, it seemed that Gilúviel grew strong and often did his laugh ring out in the chambers and make all smile at his mirth and wild suggestions of revenge.

Amid the usual chaos that afternoon, Elrond loosened the robe from his patient and did probe with his long fingers the hurts that still remained. And then did Galadriel thrust her chewed quill quickly into Celeborn’s hands and with her own fair, if ink-stained, fingers bring her healing strength also to Gilúviel and coupled it willingly with the strength of the Peredhil. And Elrond did welcome this, for, despite all that lay between them, each acknowledged the other’s skill as a healer and both did love the gentle elf they tended. And as he tended his patient with the lady Elrond did listen to the discussions about him, for he knew that time grew short, and the letter to be sent to the fell institute had yet to be written, and that this troubled both Celeborn and Glorfindel who saw its import to all the Plan.

For the first time since he had known her, Elrond suspected that his quiet maiden was waxing wroth, for he saw BW blow a stray lock of her hair from her face and glare at Aragorn. Without thinking, Elrond settled himself on the bed beside Galadriel to watch what must ensue, and so intent was he that Elrond noted not even the graceful arch of the Lady’s eyebrow as his robe brushed against her thigh.

"What is the meaning of your words? It is a fair piece of writing and yet you say it will not do?" Aragorn’s hand crept towards Andúril, and his hand was upon the great sword e’re Legolas managed to kick his ankle discreetly with his light elven foot. Then came it again to Aragorn that, despite the strangeness of her speech, here was a maiden and, as such, subject to his protection. He released Andúril and glared back at BW instead and stalked away from his elven brother and closer to the table where sat the lady Arwen with his parchment in hand as she read it to those assembled. Aragorn liked it not to be kicked, even by light elven foot, as he deemed it beneath the dignity of a king of the reunited lands.

"Aragorn, I am not trying to get on your bad side. Believe me, I don’t want to be on the bad side of anyone who carries around Andúril. It’s just that if we write it the way you have it here, they will not set foot in Taur-E-Ndaedelos. Even with that pile of gold and jewels Thranduil’s sent along, the Board of Directors is not that stupid, pretty stupid but not that much."

His kingly pride assuaged by her tribute to Andúril, Aragorn decided to listen to reason. Besides, Legolas would be upset if his plan failed, and an upset elf was a thing not to be contemplated even by Elessar the King. He grunted.

"I shall take that as your consent that BW shall write this missive, my brother?" As usual, neither had heard the blond elf approach and, also as usual, BW almost jumped out of her skin when he suddenly spoke. "This lady was long held prisoner by these foul creatures, and a taste for revenge is in her mouth. Yet her mind is as subtle as an Istar, and she shall not fail to write our message so that it bring success, and then shall Gandalf find means to deliver it as he has promised. Trust her, Aragorn, even as you have always trusted me. And she shall abide here with Gilúviel this night, and he will help her, for do we not all know that our brother is a temperate elf and wise beyond his years? Come let us all leave them to their work, for all must be ready e’er many more days are spent. Gimli, I shall share your quarters tonight so that these two may worked undisturbed?" The dwarf grunted his assent and trudged before them at his own measured pace.

BW had to hand it to the elf. He knew which strings to pull on Aragorn, and he certainly could manage his motley host of avengers. She watched as the prince and the king walked off together, proud and tall and each worthy of his people. To her amazement, all the company followed meekly, and she was left alone with Gilúviel for the very first time. She felt that his eyes were upon her with such trust that she could accomplish this great task, that BW’s heart lifted and grew strong. Then she sat down at the desk of Legolas and began to write, and the candles Gilúviel lit for her burned long into the night and before the morning it was done.

And when he had read it aloud did Gilúviel laugh at the subtle skill of his maiden’s words, and he set the letter carefully upon the desk, for on the morrow they would bring it unto Elrond who would then send it on to Gandalf, or so they thought. Quietly, he snuffed the candles with his fingers and drew her to him, and he looked upon her face in the moonlight through his window. His eyes spoke what his voice could not, and at that moment did the maiden know that the dark elf loved her even as she did him. Holding her arms up to him, she let him gather her up and carry her into his bed, and there did they know one another and become one.

*****

She was gone now. Gilúviel knew that for he had sent her away himself long before Imladris began to stir and awaken to the morning. Her honor must he protect and her name, and so he had sent her away even as he ached for her closeness. He could smell her still on the sheets and still feel her warmth there. He burrowed his body deep into the place where she had slept in his arms and drank in her fragrance. What they had done was against all propriety and must never happen again until they were wed, but somehow he could not bring himself to regret it. He loved her so much, and he knew not if he would live long enough to be her husband. Times were perilous and despite their brave jests he knew that what he did soon for his brother might well bring his own death and even hers. And so he prayed to Ilúvatar for forgiveness that he and his beloved had stolen one night of their marriage before even it was proclaimed.

"So, did you finish the letter?" Legolas perched on the end of the bed and stared at his brother with curious eyes; for the dark elf had groaned at the sound of his voice, and that had never happened before.

"Do you ever knock?"

"Why should I knock? It is my bed chamber after all, and only you are here. I never saw the need."

"It would still be the courteous thing to do, brother." Gilúviel groaned softly again, but in resignation he also moved over in the bed for he knew his brother all too well. "She finished the letter, and it is all that we could wish. However, you will not read it now for I have no desire to be awake yet, so please do not throw open the shutters to Anar merely because you are awake."

As he expected, Legolas soon crawled under the blanket beside him for the room was chill, and ever had his brother hated to be cold in the morning. "Do not put those cold feet against me, Legolas, for I am not wearing a tunic and may have to kill you if you do."

"So I noticed. Why?" Stealthily he worked his feet against his brother’s calves and warmed them when Gilúviel made no real move to kill him and instead drew him closer in his arms and kissed the nape of Legolas neck underneath the unbound golden hair.

"Why what?"

"Why aren’t you wearing a tunic? It’s very cold this morning."

"I grew warm and threw it off. Is that allowed yet, my brother?"

"It is allowed, but you are lying to me, and that you have never done before. Are you well, Gilúviel?"

"I am more than well, but you are right that I have lied to you. Nay, do not wrinkle your nose so, for I know that I smell differently than I normally do." Gilúviel laughed and kissed his brother’s shoulder in resignation. "I lay with the maiden last night, and thus I wear no tunic. Are you happy now that you know my deepest secret?"

"You and BW? How can this be?"

"How can it not be? I love her, my brother." He sighed and shook his head in sadness. "You need not tell me that what I have done is wrong. I who love her most have yet dishonored her. Oh, brother! What have I done?"

"I dare say you have made her very happy. She loves you?"

"Aye, can you believe that?"

"More than I can believe that you love her. Oh, don’t take offense, for you should know what I mean. She is a mortal, brother, and you are an elf. Do you not see the heartache this will bring you?" Having started, Legolas continued despite the hurt he knew he must be doing to his brother. "She will grow old, sicken and die on you, and still you will love her, and it will break your heart, Gilúviel. I cannot bear that for you. I love you too much!"

"It is too late, my Legolas, for I do love her, and that I cannot change any more than I could stop loving you. Do not be angry with me for I could not bear that. It would kill me, Legolas."

"Put on your tunic, dark one, for with your luck Arwen will be the next to visit this room, and then what should we say?"

"We?" With an exasperated sigh, Legolas pulled the night tunic over his brother’s head and helped him slide into it

"Yes, we. You know I have no path open to me but to support your choice no matter how much my heart misgives me. I shall keep your secret, my brother."

Gilúviel laughed then and pulled his brother close to him. "You must do other things for me, my prince. Shall we discuss them?"

"No! You cannot ask me to do such a thing as I see in your mind."

"Who then, my prince? Adar? He is far distant from us, even if I were brave enough to ask him. Nay, brother, it is to my prince that I must come and beg that he will betroth me to my love."

"It is not the right time. I have so much to do right now, Gilúviel, with all this preparation for the quest. Brother, we are to leave in but four days!"

"I know this, my prince. Yes, you are right. I beg your pardon for troubling you with my own concerns at this time of great peril. It is just that, if I am fated to die in your service. . ."

"You are NOT going to die in my service! As your prince, I absolutely forbid it, Gilúviel! You are my childhood friend and my brother, the one whom my father fostered when his captain and only true friend was slain and your mother gave up her own body to her grief. My mother’s breasts suckled you even as they did me. I FORBID you to get killed on this quest, understand?" Fiercely did Legolas grip his brother’s shoulders, and on his face were the tears of his own terror that he might lose this one whom he so loved.

"Yes, my lord, I shall obey you as always."

"See that you do and stop calling me ‘my lord’ all the time. Unless Adar is within hearing distance, my name is Legolas and you will use it." Stupid git. He does this ‘my lord’ bit to annoy me. Can he truly love this maiden? She is not of our kind and, if truth be told, she is rather plain. Nay, I must not say this thought to him for I look into those great dark eyes, and I do know that he loves and will never love another. How can this be, my brother? You are the quiet one, the dutiful son that I can never be to our father. How is it that you have the courage to challenge his will in this as I should never dare? He has put so much thought into your betrothal and that the elven maiden be of the best family, for he knew that you were his biddable son and would accept his choice and give him the grandchildren that would be all that he sought. Now, you ask that I tell our father that you have chosen this mortal, and that I have given my consent to it?

"You do truly love her?"

"I love her, Legolas."

Ai! Look at those eyes of his that he has turned upon me. So seldom has he ever asked a thing of me even when I sought to find something to do to give him pleasure. Always he said that all his pleasure that he needed was in being my brother. How can I not do this thing? His great heart will truly break if I deny him this. But, what of my own heart? Can I watch what will happen to him when she dies? Can I be that brave?

"Adar will kill me. You know this, brother."

"Nay, he loves you too much despite his oaths and strong words." Gilúviel smiled at Legolas. "And, if I be wrong on this, you well know that I shall throw my body over yours to shield you from his sword, and thus we shall die together even as we have lived."

"Aye, so he will kill us both then?" Legolas touched his brother’s face with his slender fingers. "If I must die again, it will not be so bad this time if it be for love of you. I will betroth you, my brother, and we shall travel together to Mandos when Adar kills us both. I know a few there who may yet help us."

And Legolas beheld the beauty of his brother’s love unto the maiden, and his sorrow lifted, and then the two brothers began to laugh at the thought of the road that lay now before them and the terrible wrath of their father that soon they must face.

*****

"There are times, Celeborn, when I have thought that Elrond reserves these chambers for our use because they are furthest from his own."

"Could this be, Galadriel? I am troubled that I am thought such a troll by Elrond that I must be isolated from his society." He paused in his task of toweling his body after his bath and gazed at his wife. She laughed suddenly and threw his long night tunic at him.

"Cover yourself, husband, for you are entirely too distracting tonight, and I need to speak with you."

He picked up the tunic and regarded it gravely. "Think you that this soft garment embroidered by your own hands will put an end to distraction? The feel of it against my skin has always been a constant reminder to me of your hands." Quickly, he pulled the tunic over his head and let her button the last fastenings for him. His mind noted carefully that not all the buttons quite reached their proper homes, but he said nothing.

"What is it, my love?" Celeborn crawled into their bed and, propped against the pillows, waited for her to sit opposite him on the foot of the bed, for thus did they ever conduct the most serious of their discussions. It had always been important to her to face him at such times and see his eyes. He smiled and, because the room grew cool, carefully covered her feet with part of the coverlet. "You have my full attention, my lady."

"Celeborn, I have hurt Arwen." Galadriel’s voice was soft and sorrowful.

"Yes, I know that you have, and it grieves me."

"You did not stop me?"

"You are not mine to command as some servant."

"You know that for love of you all that I do may be commanded."

"I know this. For this reason, if no other, no command shall you ever hear from me. I would have Galadriel as she is and not as one subject to my commands." He smiled and took her hand gently in both his and kissed it. "Besides, I knew that you would find the way on your own."

"Tell me what to do, Celeborn, not as a command but because I have lost my way, and I need your guidance."

"If you ask this of me, you must not complain of the words you may hear."

"I will not complain, my lord."

"Then I say to the one who is the heart of my existence that you must forgive Elrond and let our granddaughter see that you have done this." He felt his wife tremble at his words, but he did not waiver. "She will have so much to bear, Galadriel. Would you let this also be among her burdens that you whom she so loves be at enmity with her father?"

"He took not enough care of our daughter, Celeborn!" Her voice was harsh, and still he waivered not in his purpose.

"Elrond bears no guilt that Celebrían loved him, unless you would count that I carry that same guilt for the love you bear me, Galadriel. Could I have stopped you loving me in Doriath those long years ago?"

"You know that you could not have done so."

"And Elrond is more powerful than I am? He had but to say the word, and Celebrían would have ceased to love him?"

"He took her so far from us who loved her."

"And I did not lead you far from where we first met? Galadriel, you know the truth. It was not Elrond’s fault. Can you not forgive him?"

"I do not know, Celeborn, I do not know."

"Have you the strength to try?"

She shook her hair forward to cover her face from his gaze, but he brushed it back and made her face him.

"He did not care, Celeborn. He let her sail and ever his gaze was cold and his face not wet with tears. You and I wept bitter tears, Celeborn. Elrond raised his hand to her in farewell." The anger and scorn in her voice was as a living thing. "His life went on as before!"

"And this you know and do not doubt?"

"I know it, and I cannot forgive!"

"Then I have kept silence too long. You will listen to me, Galadriel?"

"Aye, my lord, for ever have I done so and never regretted it."

"The night of the day our daughter left us, remember you how you spent it?"

"With Elladan and Elrohir and with Arwen who ne’er ceased her weeping. All that night we held to each other and our grief."

"And where was I?" That question did startle her, and she looked at him with her clear eyes that now were so troubled.

"Ever have you fought sorrow alone, my husband, even when I would share it with you and lift your burden. I have always thought you were in your chambers, and there did wrestle with your grief."

"I was in my chambers, Galadriel, but I was not alone. Elrond came to me there as one who was lost. All day he had sought to be strong, so that his children should not be frightened, nor the courage of our daughter fail as she must leave those she loved. He lifted his hand to her in farewell for both knew that if they touched they would shatter from their pain. Galadriel, Elrond came to my chambers and in my arms he wept as never I have heard any creature mourn before. It tore my heart from me to hear his pain, and I held him close for I knew his loss was even greater than my own. Galadriel, Elrond mourned, and he mourns still every day that he sees Anar’s beauty without our daughter beside him." Celeborn touched the face of his love then and felt the tears upon Galadriel’s cheeks. "I ask you again to seek strength to forgive him."

"I will try, Celeborn. More I cannot promise, and I do not lie to you."

"One more thing you must try and that is to forgive yourself. What happened to our daughter happened. There is no fault in it to apportion to the ones that loved her and felt they were so powerful that, if only they had acted so, none of what happened would haunt us today."

"It will be easier to forgive Elrond, and even that I cannot promise."

"That you will think of this is sufficient." He smiled and wiped her tears away. "Now, it grows chill, and I would have you beside me and safe from all harm."

In the gathering darkness, Galadriel crept beneath the covers next to her husband and found that the buttons of his tunic had somehow come undone, so that her cheek rested against his bare chest, and the smell of his body filled her heart. And Celeborn’s arms closed about her, and Galadriel lay in the only home she had truly known.

*****

"I am supposed to lecture you severely, did you know that?" Celeborn smiled at the young couple sitting before him. "That is what my wife has instructed me to do and ever do I heed my Galadriel’s words." Celeborn assumed a ferocious expression and glared at the young couple. "You have done wrong as I am sure you at least know, Gilúviel."

"Yes, my lord, my actions sicken me. I should have been stronger."

"Yes, a young elf who goes into a battle from whence he knows not that he will return must never seek the comfort of the body of the one he so loves. No elf has ever done such a thing before, and it is indeed shameful." Celeborn smiled as if at a memory. "I am sure that no elf from Doriath ever persuaded his lady to his bed before his marriage. I am very sure of this, for Galadriel says it is so." He laughed to himself at some distant memory that he shared with no one but his lady. "It must not happen again and, to be sure that it will not, I have set Glorfindel to chaperone this lady until she be wed to you as our traditions demand."

"We will obey you and all our elders on this, Lord Celeborn."

"May the Valar help you if that be indeed true! Nay, my children, I ask only that a decent reticence confine you until you be wed. Thranduil will have difficulty accepting this union even without a scandal that you so easily could make. Will you give me your word to bring no shame unto his house?"

"I pledge myself to my father as ever I have done, and my lady has said that she will be guided by me in this." Gilúviel bowed his head to Celeborn.

"Then I shall concern myself no further with the propriety that must be observed." Celeborn drew BW to him then and placed her upon his lap. "You bring me trouble ever, my little maiden, and yet I have grown to love you. Does your heart still feel horror at what you have seen me do? Gil-Galad spoke to me and it has troubled me ever since."

"Gil-Galad is wise beyond measure and made me see with new eyes. I honor you, my lord, as I honor no other save this my beloved."

"Fair words and yet I would be more to you than your sovereign. Little one, you are here without protection among us, and this is not as it should be. Galadriel and I have spoken together on this and would take you as our daughter if you will have us, and then should you have a house and the protection of a people. Will you grant this honor to us?"

"You want to adopt me?" BW’s voice trembled for she had long been an orphan and never had hoped for such a thing, for she knew that she was plain and that it was the pretty children who found parents.

"If you will have us?"

Then her arms were about Celeborn’s neck, and she did lean against his strong body and began to cry. He soothed her as he had soothed Celebrían long before her and dried her tears and was glad. "Then, my daughter, we will proclaim you as our child e’er Legolas betroth you to his brother, and we will give our permission that this be done." Still, she wept and could not speak and he soothed her and let her tears fall. "And, as is our custom, we shall name you as your father chooses. I will name you Tingalen, little one, for you are a maiden who loves one of the Greenwood, and this name is fitting, for ever shall Gilúviel love the green maiden that Lórien gives him. And the star of the twilight of Taur-E-Ndaedalos shall finally know joy."

And in her father’s arms did Tingalen find peace at last, and she let him carry her to her mother, and there she found joy.

*****

"Are you well, my beloved?" Gilúviel looked down at her pale face with real concern in his dark eyes. Elven ceremonies could be exhausting even to the initiated, and this mortal he so loved had just gone through two of the most elaborate of their rituals with very little advanced preparation. Softly, he brushed a stray lock of her hair from her face. He knew so little about mortals, and now he was betrothed to one and charged with her protection and care. To guard the helpless had been his training in life; to care for a being as fragile and precious to him as this particular mortal was unknown and frightening.

"Don’t worry, Zip. . .Gilúviel. I just need to sit down and be quiet for a bit. Is there a place we could just sit and watch? I feel as if all elvendom has had its eyes upon me for the whole evening."

"Aye, it is difficult sometimes. When Legolas and I had our coming of age passage, we swore that we were going to go off and become dwarves before the week was done." Carefully he shepherded her to a secluded couch and sat down with her. "Here you may lean against me and rest, Tingalen."

"I should like that very much." She nestled against him and looked up at his beautiful face with its dark frame of hair held back by the woodland circlet of gold with mithril leaves. Her finger touched the mithril beads that Galadriel herself had strung on the ebony strands of his hair.

"I like these on you."

"Do you? That should reconcile me to them, but, in truth, they are a great trial to wear. Plus, it will take Legolas and I at least an hour to get them out of each other’s hair." He grinned at her. "Still, Lady Galadriel was pleased with our appearance and, if my Tingalen also thought I looked well, I shall bear all in silence as Legolas loses patiences and pulls large pieces of my hair loose with the beads." He bent and kissed her softly. "Tingalen, do you know how beautiful you are this night and how very proud I was to declare your love of me to all here present?"

"That was something about this evening that I did love and shall never forget." Again, he bent his head and kissed her, chastely as was proper in such a public setting, but still she could feel his longing desire for her, about which she had been made clearly to understand by Galadriel that he neither could nor would do anything if he would keep her honor and his own. It was going to seem like the first eternal betrothal Tingalen decided, because she really did want to rip his tunic off every time he held her. She sighed. "I do love you, Gilúviel, and that moment and the one when Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel called me their daughter and gave me my name made all of the rest of this nightmare worth it."

"Ah, I am pleased to hear you say this, my daughter, and as a reward Haldir and I have brought food and drink to nourish us all. Legolas and Galadriel were with us but a moment ago but seem to have strayed off again. Haldir, draw that small table closer and bring pillows and chairs that we may barricade my daughter against the coming onslaught of well-wishers and give her rest." With that, Celeborn kissed her cheek, handed wine to the couple and helped Haldir, all seemingly at once and with complete grace. Before she quite knew how, Tingalen found food before her and saw her new father seated opposite her on a long couch and with a contented smile upon his lips. For Celeborn loved peace and joyful times with his family, and seldom did he have them. The taste of these rare gifts in his mouth was sweet, and he savored it. Haldir had settled himself on a cushion at his lord’s feet and was calmly eating grapes. For Haldir was a warrior and ever did he take nourishment when it presented itself to him for he oft knew not when he would eat again.

Tingalen found herself grinning at the blond warrior. She liked Haldir. He was almost as insane as Legolas but much quieter.

"Tomorrow we leave for Taur-E-Ndaedelos, Lady Tingalen. Shall you be sorry to leave Imladris?" He handed her some of his grapes.

"Nay, Haldir, for we go to the home of my beloved and his brother, and there shall be my joy. Imladris is not my home."

"Never has it been truly home for the Wood-Elves or the Galadhrim, dear lady. We seek ever the trees that are our own. Legolas tells me that on the morrow will you deliver to the Peredhil the missive that you have written, and that it is fair indeed. May it bring our vengeance to fruition and cleanse what has been done to the prince."

"Then it shall be your turn, noble Haldir, and we shall sail for that fell land and seek those who cleaved your skull."

"Aye, lady, that we shall do. And when it is done, mayhap my young brothers will again find peace."

*****

Elrond’s lips curved into a pleased smile. He had not expected this skill from the maiden, yet now it lay before him. The letter was fair and as subtle as an Istar’s words. Elrond doubted not that this fell Board of Directors to whom she wrote would ne’er suspect the true purpose of the kingly gift sent by Thranduil. Gold lust even greater than that of the dwarves would awaken in their hearts, and they would seize the gift and see not the poison beneath this missive’s honeyed words.

"Aye, Tingalen, I stand before you and I, Elrond, Master of Imladris, say that I am impressed by all that you have written. Please forgive my earlier words that you write as a wharf rat for this cunning bait for our snare proves that I spoke in haste."

Tingalen took these fair words into her heart and let them take root there for she had come to love the lord of Imladris second only to her devotion to her beloved and his brother and her new-found parents who had brought her into this life where her joy lay. "Thanks, Elrond, but you were right. I do write as a wharf rat when I am in haste. I’m working on that and e’er a fair copy of my history of these days is made, I beg your courtesy to help me so that the history of the First Born may not be defiled."

"You honor me, my lady, and if my poor pen can be of service to you in this undertaking you shall have it." Gilúviel is doing rather a nice job of amending her fell speech patterns--one suspects all that kissing is a fair training tool for one is always stumbling over them in each other’s arms. I do not envy Glorfindel his job as this lady’s chaperone! Thranduil had best marry them soon or such a scandal we shall have. I shall speak of this to Galadriel. Ai, Elrond, you digress! Yes, I shall endeavor to guide her gently into the paths of noble writing for the talent of observation is there, or I am much mistaken.

And thus entered Tingalen softly unto the path of those who record the lore of the First Born, and long after her spirit departed from her people did the minstrels seek her parchments for their lays and whisper that in her was born again the skills of the Peredhil of great renown.