Finding Home by Independence1776

Chapter 1

Celebrían and Elrond discuss mourning for Arwen.

Celebrían looked through the library windows at the vibrant, blooming flowers of all shades of reds, pinks, oranges, and yellows. Then she looked at her husband sitting in the window seat, leaning against one of the sides and staring out through the glass, eyes unfocused and mind elsewhere. She quietly stepped over to him and lay a hand on his shoulder. He reached up to place a hand on hers and tilted his head to give her a soft smile.

“Hello, Celebrían.” He dropped his hand from hers when she moved to sit across from him, entangling their feet. “Is there anything you need?”

She sighed internally. At times, they were still so awkward with each other. And he was still caught up in the mindset of Middle-earth, that he was still fighting the Long Defeat. It was a mindset that had taken her over a long-year to alter, and she suspected it would take even longer for him, thanks to having worn Vilya. “Cannot a wife desire to spend time alone with her husband?”

He glanced at the rest of the small library and then back at her, his smile growing. “I would like that.”

“Good.” She leaned her head against the window behind her. “What were you thinking of?”

“Rivendell. Aman is… a change.”

“Not always for the better,” she said.

He blinked and sat upright. “To hear you say that--”

She laughed. “It’s a different culture and land, Elrond. Of course there will be things that we prefer done otherwise!”She sobered. “I do miss the change in seasons, though. Wet and dry… The leaves still change, but I’d prefer an autumn and a winter versus what sometimes seems to be an eternal summer.”

“And as long as we live on Tol Eressëa, we are stuck with it. Though you aren’t technically an Exile--”

“I will not leave you again, Elrond, not even to settle where there is a normal seasonal pattern. For now, you must remain here.”

Elrond snorted. “Unlike your mother?”

Celebrían giggled. “You know how strong-willed she is. And she will not be living in Tirion. Merely visiting.”

Elrond’s lips quirked up even more. “I wouldn’t call that a visit, not with the amount of people she planned to see and stay with.” He glanced out of the window and then said, “I confess that I have not been entirely honest with you. I am bored, though I know I should not be. But living with Sauron on the rise again, to know that the Elves will not survive if Gondor and Rohan falls, to know that Men will eventually forget everything about the Elder Days and the twilight years… To be in Aman now… I do not know what to do with myself.”

She reached out and squeezed a knee. “We’ll figured it out, Elrond. You’ve been here a month. Give yourself time to recover-- and don’t you deny that you need it. Our relatives can wait, as can everyone else who wants you to travel to them rather than come here. King Finrod was quite clear he would be patient; I rather think he has his hands full dealing with Mother. There is time, Elrond.”

“There always will be,” he said, with more than a little bleakness.

Celebrían bit her lip and reached out again. She grasped one of his hands and held it tight. “Arwen made the right choice for herself, Elrond, as did your brother.”

He placed his other hand on their joined ones. “I know. And yet… I feel I cannot mourn her properly, not with Elves still able to sail West, any of whom might bring news of her. We know her brothers eventually will.”

Celebrían tilted her head, thinking. Finally, she said, “Then, after their arrival, we hold a mourning ceremony for her: you, me, our sons, Mother and Father, if he’s sailed by then.”

“And if he hasn’t?”

“We can’t wait forever to mourn our daughter. Or we do wait until we hear one way or another.” She took a deep breath. “The Valar will know before we will.”

“Will they tell us?”

“Grandfather Finarfin told me they did even during the First Age. I do not see a reason why they would not do so now.”

He pulled his hands away and rubbed his face before putting them back in hers. “I am being entirely too cynical right now. I apologize.”

“Apology accepted.” She leaned forward slightly. “I think the mourning ceremony would help, Elrond, with or without my father’s presence.”

“So do I. But what should we do now?”

“Write her.” At his skeptical look, she gave him an exasperated one in return. “I know you wrote Maglor letters, Elrond.”

“I burned them before I sailed. Words on the wind I know will never reach him.” He sighed and clasped her hand tighter. “I can do the same for our daughter.” He peered into her eyes. “What will you do?”

She gestured with her free hand at the garden. “What I always have: I grew it for her for us to share when she sailed. Now it will be a memorial to her.”

Elrond glanced at the flowers. “You two did always love gardening.” He leaned forward and kissed her hand before releasing it. “I forget, sometimes, that this is a grief as a parent that I no longer need to carry alone. Thank you, Celebrían. And when the time comes, we will mourn her properly.”

She stood up and leaned forward to kiss him. “Good.” She took several steps toward the library door before glancing over her shoulder. “I will be outside weeding if you wish to talk to more.”

Elrond nodded, eyes already half-unfocused, becoming once more lost in thought. Celebrían quietly closed the library door behind her and went to change into a set of her gardening clothes.