Journeying Together by chrissystriped

Journeying Together

Read Journeying Together

Elrond woke with the feeling of fingers coming through his hair. Celebrían looked at him with a smile.

“I love to watch you sleep,” she said. “I love to wake up beside you.”

Elrond moved forward and kissed her mouth, his heart beating quicker with happiness. Married. He was finally married to this beautiful woman he’d first met in a city that was now only broken stones.

“I love that, too,” he said. “I love that you will always be at my side now.”

He’d wanted to court her so badly, but he had not dared. And then she had gone to the other side of the mountains with her parents. And then the war had happened. But  the Númenoreans had defeated Sauron on the field, had sent him running to his lands in the south. It was not Peace, but it was a reprieve — and he had not been able to wait any longer.

“You know…” Celebrían slid her finger down his bare chest and left goosebumps in her wake. “I’d love to have you to myself for a while. I know you have work to do here, but… Would you think me selfish if I suggested to go on a wedding journey?”

Elrond slid his hand up and down her back and she arched smiling into his touch. Imladris had held out but a lot had been damaged in the siege. New buildings were erected everywhere and he’d been overwhelmed lately by work — which he was guilty of pushing aside to court Celebrían. The people had been happy to celebrate the wedding of their Lord, even Gil-galad had come in person to congratulate them. He was still here, as were his love’s parents.

“I think we’ll need to wait a little. We can hardly leave our guests unattended. But, once the festivities are over… Glorfindel and Erestor are very able to deal with things. So yes, I’d love to go on a journey with you. What did you have in mind?”

Celebrían smiled radiantly and Elrond knew he’d have done anything for that smile. “I’d like you to meet someone. Someone I’ve met when we travelled East. She lives near the Baranduin, at a lovely pond full of water lilies.”

“That sounds beautiful.” Elrond kissed her smiling lips. “We’ll go there and visit your friend as soon as we can.”

 

They travelled on foot, enjoying the leisurely pace and the landscape, changing from heather to deep forest. Elrond loved to see Celebrían between the trees. He’d grown up as a Noldo, his sindarin heritage acknowledged but not passed on — pain stabbed at his heart at the thought of his lost mother. Celebrían had grown up with a sindarin father and here she lived it. Her hands stroked over bark, her mouth whispered soft words to the trees, her eyes were alight with love for the flowers and mosses and mushrooms around them.

‘Show me this world of yours,’ he thought, wanting to be a part of it.

Their minds were still knitting together after taking their marriage vows — couples usually took some time alone to get truly close to each other — but Celebrían turned around as if she’d heard him.

“Come,” she said, taking his hand and crouching down beside the moss covered roots of a tree. “Look how the dew beads on the moss. Isn’t it beautiful?”

Elrond looked at the vibrant green of the moss, at the silver of the dew. The wood was hushed around them, no bird sank. There was only the wind in the leaves, the creak of boughs.

“It is,” he whispered, feeling like speaking aloud would break a spell, and squeezed Celebrían’s hand. “Thank you for showing me.”

 

They wandered on until one day they came to the broad, brown band of the Baranduin. Celebrían led them a bit south and then up a small tributary that was grown over by willows. The lily pond was shadowed by willows, too, their leaves floating between the yellow and white water lilies.

“Riverdaughter?” Celebrían called. “It’s me, Celebrían. Do you remember me? It’s been a while.”

Elrond thought he saw something move under the green leaves of the lilies. A figure rose up out of the water — no formed by the water. It shaped itself into the body of a woman, water turning to flesh and golden hair and a dress of reeds. Elrond caught himself staring. He’d only seem something like this in the War of Wrath, he hadn’t known there were still Maiar on this side of the sea who hadn’t allied themselves with Morgoth.

“Welcome, silver-girl,” she said with a voice that sounded like the happy bubble of a brook over mossy stones. “Who do you bring me here?”

She met Elrond’s stare and he felt like a cord was strung inside him — like calling to like.

“I wanted to introduce my husband to you,” Celebrían answered.

“My lady,” Elrond said and bowed. “I’m Elrond Eärendilion.”

“Ah, the waters speak of the fate of your parents. Son of star and son of bird.” She smiled kindly at him. “Son of many fathers.”

Elrond felt his heart skip a beat. She knew.

“My congratulations to your marriage,” the Riverdaughter continued and took one of each of their hands in hers. “May it be blessed.”

Elrond felt a shiver run down his spine at the sense of power that her words held. He was not entirely sure if he wished for the blessing of an Ainu — especially when she had just told one of his best kept secrets. He’d wanted to tell Celebrían, but in his own time. But Celebrían seemed happy and he couldn’t be cross with her for not warning him about the nature of her friend. He let her pull him down beside her and sat down on the soft grass beside the pond, holding her when she leaned against him.

“Will you tell us a story, Goldberry?” Celebrían asked and the lady laughed.

“You were always one for stories, from the first time your father introduced us.” She settled down in the shallow water, playing with a dragonfly that flit around and through her fingers. “I have met my heart's-mate, too, if you can believe it, daughter of the silver tree. I’ll sing you a song of his courting.”

Elrond closed his eyes as she started a lively, happy song that conjured up the image of a bearded man with twinkling eyes as blue as his coat and the feather in his hat. He was dancing through the forest and along the river in bright yellow boots, singing loudly and filling the air with laughter. If he was an Ainu, he was nothing like any Elrond had met — but then the War had not been a cause for much mirth. The love in the Riverdaughter’s song was tangible and he pulled Celebrían closer to kiss her cheek. She leaned into him, her mind reaching out to his.

 

They had lit no fire, the night was mild and the stars twinkled through the leaves. The Riverdaughter had told them more stories. Of the creatures of the river and the forest. Of rumours coming upstream of a Singer wandering the sea-shore. When dusk fell, she had said goodbye to them, inviting them to make their slower way up the stream to the house of her husband.

“What do you think of her?” Celebrían said, snuggling into his side.

Elrond was still pondering, if she’d tried to tell him she knew where Maglor was without actually saying it. “I can understand why you like her,” he answered, smiling at her. “She’s lovely and kind.”

“But?”

He shrugged awkwardly. “She’s an Ainu. They don’t understand us incarnates very well, in my limited experience.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I’m just moody, because she… hinted at something. I want to tell you a secret, dear. I meant to do it before, but…”

“I love you, Elrond,” Celebrían interrupted his stammering. “You can’t say anything that will stop me loving you.”

Elrond laughed and kissed her gently. “Thank you. I… haven’t talked about this a lot. I know to many people Maedhros and Maglor were criminals to be feared — and they did wrong, I can’t deny that — but to me and my brother they became like fathers. They loved us and raised us and we loved them back. It pained me how it all had to end.” Elrond took a deep breath, blinking against the tears in his eyes. “I know your parents don’t have much love for them, but they were my family.”

“Oh, Elrond. My Love.” Celebrían hugged him tight. “I never knew. I’m so sorry for your loss. Is that why you speak the way you do?”

Elrond chuckled. “You mean my Quenya? Yes, that’s the way it was taught to me. I don’t wear my feelings for them in the open, but speaking their native language like them is the way I honour them. The Riverdaughter said something…” Elrond hesitated but then continued. “About a Singer on the seashore. I wonder… It is said they perished with their Silmarils, but what if that is Maglor?”

Celebrían’s eyes widened. “You think he could be still alive? Do you want to look for him?”

“I don’t know.” Elrond swallowed. “I want to see him again, but… he could have come to me so many times. What if he doesn’t want to see me?”

“Then he is a fool.” Celebrían met his eyes. “Do you want to look for him?” she asked again.

“Yes,” whispered Elrond.

“Then we’ll ask Goldberry tomorrow what exactly she knows and we’ll go from there.”

Elrond stared back at her. “But… this is our wedding journey. I don’t want you to feel like we have to cut it short.”

“Nonsense.” Celebrían caressed his face. “You said he is like a father to you, didn’t you? We should go and tell him the news of our marriage.”

Elrond buried his face in her hair. “I love you,” he croaked. “I love you so much.”

No word about Maglor’s crimes. No word about her not understanding how he could love kinslayers. She accepted it. She even wanted to meet Maglor!

 

~*~*~

 

They’d slowly made their way to the shore, giving Celebrían ample time to think about her unexpected father-in-law. She’d noticed before that Elrond didn’t talk about the Feanorions and had drawn her own conclusions. Wrong ones, she knew now. Maglor. She wondered how he would be. And if they would even find him. She knew it would break Elronds heart if they didn’t. Goldberry had told them what the waters had carried to her, but it was not an accurate description. All they knew was that there was a hut built of driftwood, sheltered in the crags of a cliff. Elrond thought he might be able to sense Maglor, if he got close enough. Celebrían leaned into the salty sea wind, closing her eyes against the sun sinking in an explosion of colours. She reached for Elrond’s hand and squeezed it.

“Let’s make camp for tonight.”

Elrond sighed. “Yes. I’m sorry for dragging you out here. I’m starting to wonder…”

Celebrían put her fingers over his lips. “Don’t worry about me, love. I like it here and spending so much time with you.”

They found shelter in a cove of trees a short walk from the sea and built a fire out of fallen branches. Their provisions were slowly dwindling, but it was still enough — Elrond had turned out to be a skilled fisherman — and there were small settlements all along the shore where they would be able to buy food, if it became necessary. Celebrían leaned against Elrond.

“Will you sing me another song?” she asked.

He’d started to sing Maglor’s songs for her. Not the Noldolante or one of the other big lays, he was famous for, but little melodies to make two children happy. If she’d doubted before, she did not doubt his love for Elrond and Elros any longer. His feeling spoke clearly from the songs Elrond now remembered for her. (And not only for her. She guessed, he was hoping Maglor would overhear him and make himself known to them.)

 

Celebrían couldn’t say what had woken her. The fire had burned down to a dull glow, the moon was hidden behind the trees. She could feel they were no longer alone. She reached out to the trees, like her father had taught her and they told here where someone had disturbed their nightly peace. He was only a shadow between shadows and he turned to flee, when Celebrían sat up.

“Stay,” she whispered. “Maglor.”

He froze. Then she felt more than saw that he was beckoning her to follow him. Celebrían looked down at her sleeping husband.

‘I’ll bring him back to to you,’ she promised him silently and stood up.

Maglor waited for her where the trees drew back. The waves glinted silvery in the starlight.

“Why have you come?” he said.

“Because Elrond loves you,” Celebrían answered. “Come back with me and we’ll wake him. He’ll be overjoyed!”

A look of grief travelled over Maglor’s face. “I can’t. He only made himself love us because he had no other choice. We ripped him and Elros from his family. He should hate us.”

It wasn’t, like the same thoughts hadn’t gone through Celebrían’s mind. She’d always thought Elrond hadn’t talked about this time of his life because the Feanorions had been cruel to him and his brother. But she’d heard Elrond talk about Maglor a lot during the last weeks and she trusted him. She’d also learned something else.

“You love him,” she stated confidently.

“I do,” Maglor answered quietly.

“By hiding from him you are hurting him as much as you did when you came to Sirion.”

Maglor drew a shuddering breath. “No… I only do it to protect him. What would people say if he were to be seen in the company of a kinslayer.”

“Yes!” Celebrían gripped him by the shoulders and shook him. Distantly she was aware that she shouldn’t treat him like that. He and his brothers had been often in her nightmares. She knew what he was capable of. But she did not fear him, now that he stood before her. Not when he acted like a stubborn youth. “He loves you. He is desperate to find you here. And he would take you home with us.” He hadn’t said it outright, when it wasn’t even sure they’d find Maglor, but Celebrían knew it was on Elrond’s mind.

“And you support him? Why? I know who your parents are.”

Celebrían wondered, if he was listening for news of Elrond. The news of their marriage was well known in the towns of Lindon.

“I love him,” she answered. “I want him to be happy and your absence is a shadow on his happiness.” Gently she reached for his hand. “Come with me.”

Maglor let himself be led back to their camp hesitantly, but he didn’t argue anymore.

“Elrond,” she said, touching his shoulder, still holding Maglor’s hand with the other so he couldn’t get away. “Look who found us.”

Elrond blinked at her blearily, then his eyes widened.

“Atya,” he croaked. “You really are alive. You are here!”

Maglor went to his knees beside him. Celebrían busied herself with stoking their fire and putting on fresh branches. When she turned around again, Elrond was holding Maglor’s hands between his, singing softly under his breath and stroking the scarred skin of his palms. Maglor was crying silenty. Celebrían could feel the healing power of his song in the air. Quietly she walked down towards the shore to give them some privacy.

 

The sky behind her was already pink with dawn, but before her the last stars shone when Elrond sat down beside her in the sand.

“How his he?” she asked softly.

“I don’t know.” Elrond sighed. “His hands will need more healing — if they ever heal completely — but I think the loneliness has weighed more on him. All these years alone with his thoughts of guilt and regret.” He threw her a wary look. “Would you be terribly wroth with me, if I wanted to take him home with us?”

Celebrían smiled back at him. “No, Elrond. I expected it would come to that if we ever found him. He is your father — the only one of them who is still able to be with you on these shores. I want you and him to be together.”

Elrond started to sob and Celebrían held him in her arms and stroked his back until he quieted down.

“Thank you,” he croaked. “For being so understanding. I know I’m asking a lot of you.”

“I only know you love him and that is enough for me to give him the benefit of the doubt.”

“What are we going to tell people?”

“We’ll figure something out on our way home.” Celebrían kissed him on the lips. “I admit, I’ll regret no longer being alone with you, love. But then, this journey has already been longer than I expected. So I guess I can be convinced to share you.” She winked at him and Elrond laughed.

“I love you, my dearest. So much.”

 

“And you are sure…” Maglor had kept saying all the way from the sea to the mountains and Celebrían had told him again and again that, “Yes, we want you with us.”

She wasn’t really sure what to think of him, but the way he looked at Elrond when he thought no one was watching made most of her doubts shut up. Now Imladris came into sight and she felt her heart beat with love. She hadn’t realised how much she’d missed this place that had only so recently become her home.

They’d decided to keep most people in the dark about the identity of Maglor, but there were some — like Glorfindel and some of Maglor’s old followers — who would recognise him and she would go in first to call them together and talk to them. They didn’t want a commotion.

She looked back at Maglor, wide eyed with fear, and Elrond, holding his father’s hand in support, and smiled at them. She didn’t know him well, yet, but she hoped for Elrond’s sake that Imladris would become his home like it had become hers. It was what Elrond deserved.