The Prince of Lothlorien

Celebrian woke. He was still curled safely in his Ada's arms, but Celeborn must have moved them to the bed after he had fallen asleep. Celeborn stirred, woken by his son's movements. Celebrian moaned at the pain in his body. He hurt from where Thranduil had intentionally hurt him, and breathing was difficult. His chest and stomach ached from where Orophin had punched him. His right arm hurt too badly to attempt to move, but if he had, he was sure it would have been stiff. His face felt bruised from Thranduil's slap, and his stomach knotted with hunger.

Celeborn brushed his son's hair back from his forehead, and placed a kiss at his hairline. "You alright?" He asked softly. Celebrian nodded. Celeborn released him and got up. Celebrian managed to sit up with some difficulty. Haldir, Rumil and Orophin, his dearly beloved friends - brothers only to one another, were sleeping in a pile by the door, sharing a few blankets.

"Can you get up?" Celeborn asked.
Celebrian looked at his father. "Maybe. Probably."
"Will Haldir need to carry you down?"
Celebrian glanced at the afore-mentioned Haldir. All three brothers were awake now. He nodded, meeting no one's eyes.

Celeborn came over, tucked his son's chin in the palm of his hand. "Celebrian, part of being an adult is acknowledging your mistakes and faults, forgiving them, and moving past them. You *will not* be ashamed. Do you understand?"
Celebrian lifted his eyes to his father's, and found only gentleness there. "Yes." He answered. Celeborn released him, and started down the ladder.

Celebrian was already fully dressed, but he needed to bathe. Badly. He grasped the bed frame, and managed to pull himself standing with his left arm. As he had predicted, his right was immobile with pain and soreness. He pulled the star-stone around to the front of the chain, it had slid around to the back of his neck during the night, and it brought the memory of Thranduil's violet eyes and fresh pain.

With a whimper, he swayed, and would have fallen but for Rumil, who caught him in mid-air. Haldir was there then, and Orophin. Celebrian cowered from Orophin. Orophin winced in a wash of hurt. "Celebrian." He said softly, to soothe the younger elf. He was *not* Celebrian's enemy, and regretted having had to hurt him. Orophin stroked Celebrian's hair as if he were trying to gentle a skittish colt. Celebrian's eyelids opened after a moment of this, blonde lashes blooming into hurt gray blue eyes. Orophin dared stroke his face, until Celebrian no longer winced or showed fear of him. Trust had returned to his eyes slowly, and he had begun to lean weight on Orophin too, taking the offer of help.

When Celebrian was no longer afraid of Orophin, he dared lean in and kiss the Prince's cheek. Celebrian ghosted a kiss against Orophin's jaw before Celebrian pulled away. "Brother." Orophin whispered, grieving. A lone tear slid down Celebrian's handsome face. Rumil wiped it away. Haldir picked up Celebrian, despite the fact that the younger elf was as large as he.

They carried him down to thier favorite bathing pool, undressed him, and Orophin bathed him in a gesture of returning trust. Haldir cleaned and dressed the deep bitemark on Celebrian's neck, not saying a word. As Orophin washed him, his fingers danced lightly over the bruises on Celebrian's torso in the shape of his own knuckles. If they caused him any pain to see, he did not voice it. They dried and dressed him, braiding his hair and putting on him his crown. Celebrian's jaws remained clenched, for he had nothing worthwhile to say. Thranduil's words echoed forever in his mind.

Haldir, Orophin and Rumil delivered him to the talan his parents reserved for formal and semi-formal dining. They stood with the gaurds outside, and Celebrian went in alone.

The meal was a quiet one, for Galadriel and Celeborn did not mention thier son's most recent escapade, and Celebrian had no wish to speak of it. He ate in silence, was polite and agreeable to his parents without being distant, and ignored his mother's occasional discerning gazes. What had happened to him was not something she could comfort.

"Elrond is to arrive this afternoon." She mentioned.
Celebrian nodded.
"He'll eat evening meal with us, he and Erestor."
"Erestor?" Celebrian was not unsure of the name or the elf. He knew of Erestor too well. Did Erestor have a death wish, to come back to Lothlorien?

"His advisor, he declined to be present for this meal." Mother went on.
Mawe, Elbereth and Mandos. Erestor was making a play for Rumil now. Celebrian would have to see to that after the meal.
"I'd like you to be on your best behavior when you meet him this evening."
The old childish Celebrian would have snapped 'Why? It's not like he'll be *courting* me.' But this was the changed Celebrian, and this Celebrian held his tounge, merely nodding. Nodding was good. It was safe. Perhaps that was why Father always nodded?

After the meal, Celebrian sought out Haldir. Haldir was where he had left him, standing gaurd, talking in low tones with his brothers. When he saw Celebrian, he clammed up. Haldir had only done that to him once before, years ago, when he had asked Haldir who the father of his baby was. Celebrian felt hurt to be excluded so suddenly. Was this what this marrige would do to him? Divide him from those he knew and loved? Even when Haldir had miscarried - the way he had found out that he was pregnant - Celebrian had always been included in thier sibling closeness.

They shared a bond, and Celebrian had dared hope it would always be there, even when they bore children. Celebrian had thought that they would all bear thier own, having been impregnanted by temporary lovers, because they were too close to marry and have a wife to deal with. The supposition that he might be wrong, that they *wouldn't* share thier lives as brothers like he had thought was heart wrenching.

Just how many more times would he have to be hurt like this to grow up? Haldir and Orophin were grown, they had faced thier own maturing trials. Haldir had had his miscarried baby to wrench him into adulthood, and Orophin had had Erestor - who used him only because he was there and because Haldir was off with whomever had impregnated him. It wasn't likely Haldir ever would let himself conceive again, he had avoided whomever his lover had been like the plauge since it happened. Harsh-faced, strong Orophin wasn't likely to ever let anyone have a chance at attempting impregnation again. And pretty, sweet, innocent Rumil wasn't likely to be allowed a lover, not with *his* older brothers, who were enough to scare off any miscreants for miles.

Celebrian looked at Rumil and thought bitterly: 'I was thier brother too. I was safe, and innocent and childish. But we all have to grow up sometime, sweet little brother Rumil. I just hope it doesn't hurt you as badly as it has your brothers and I.'

Haldir spoke to him then. "Was there something you wanted?"
"Not really, just to tell you that Erestor was in Lothlorien."
"Erestor." Haldir and Orphin growled together.
Rumil's eyes were wide. "Who?" He asked, and was silenced with twin glares.

"I'm going to go read in Ada's office until Lord Elrond arrives, so I don't get dirty again."
Haldir blinked at the sudden change in Celebrian. Before last night, he might have run off and certainly would have gotten filthy. But Thranduil had bound him to his duty, and given him manhood bought with pain. Haldir didn't know why Celebrian was suddenly acting mature and responsible, and could be forgiven for waiting for some trick.

Celebrian gave him none, instead going to the library/office alone. Sudden independence from needing his brothers with him at all times felt odd, he mused. Maybe he really *was* growing up.

*****

Galadriel was smiling when Elrond saw her again. He took this to mean that she had found Celebrian. That loathsome quiver of fearful anticpation fluttered in his gut again, but he supressed it. "Have you seen Erestor? I would like to speak with him." Elrond said, hoping Haldir and Orophin hadn't killed his advisor yet.

"I believe he is in his talan, but will be coming for the evening meal within the hour. Would you like to walk while we wait?" Galadriel said smoothly.
"I suppose, but I'd like to meet your son before the meal."
"He's in the library. I'll walk you there." Galadriel offered.

Elrond took her arm, and they set off. Butterflies cavorted in his stomach.

*****

Celebrian looked up as the door opened, and in walked his mother, followed by Lord Elrond.

Celebrian stood quickly, and adjusted his robes, laying down the parchment he'd been reading. "Mother?" he enquired. Elrond looked just as he remembered him; classic noldor looks - dark hair and gray eyes under arching brows that gave the impression of haugty pride, tall and slender. At close range, Celebrian found that Elrond had not only two thousand years on him, but two inches as well. Gil-Galad's herald was caught up at the sight of Celebrian.

Celebrian was as tall and slim as he himself, both possesing similar body types but for the slight difference in height. His hair was silvery and straight like his father's, not having inherited his mother's waves. The Vanyarin golden color she *had* passed on to her son, but it was streaked in between and played trion oon one's eyes in subtle lighting. Celebrian's eyes were predictably gray blue, given his half-sindarin, half-noldorin parentage. His face was much like Celeborn's, but refined by Galadriel's influence. He had her noble noldorin nose, Celeborn's hearfelt brows that told of honest expressions, and full lips like his mother's. There was an air of sweet innocence about him, as well as a hurt and sadness that belied of burgeoning maturity caused by the first true suffering of one who bloomed only in aunguish.

Elrond fell in love with the blossoming potential in his eyes, the man Celebrian was becoming. He was *nothing* like the slight, waifish elfling that had accompanied Celeborn to the Counsels. That Celebrian had been all eyes and pointed chin and snub nose. This one was all heart, bravery and strength in a man's form.

Galadriel introduced them. "Lord Elrond, this is my son, Celebrian. Celebrian, this is my friend Lord Elrond."
Elrond stepped forward and took Celebrian's forearm in greeting. Celebrian returned it without the overexuberance of youth, but with a man's strength and surety. He was no maiden, this one. Not in the least. He released the Prince's arm, noting that Celebrian moved wiht some stiffness, and his arm appeared recently wounded. "Well met, Lord Elrond." Celebrian said simply. Elrond was enchanted. He nodded dumbly, vauguely hoping it looked semi-distinguished instead of as stupid as he thought it to be.

Left to nurture conversation, Galadriel went on. "Celebrian, I belive the hour of evening meal has approached. Will you accompany us to the dining hall?" Celebrian looked away from Elrond to his mother. The half-elf was staring at him, but it must be borne. For Thranduil's sake, for his peoples', if not his own. "Yes Mother, I belive I will."

He opened the door for her, and followed her through it. Lord Elrond followed behind him, testing his strength to endure with his awed stare, and his self-control with the urge to slap the noldor Lord for...for what? Being like Gil-Galad all over again, the 'creepy follow-you-around-staring type'? Celebrian gritted his teeth.

*****

Well, the evening hadn't been a total loss, Elrond thought to himself that night as he lay in bed, awaiting sleep. Perhaps he wouldn't have to decieve Galadriel after all. He might actually marry the beautiful, brilliant Celebrian. Provided of course, that Celebrian was willing. He had yet to talk to him alone, but he planned to.

*****

Celebrian lay awake in his place between Orophin and Rumil in the bed the four shared, and tried to hate Thranduil with all hea heart. It wasn't working. He still loved him, but at this point trying to hate him was only attempting to render himself impotent. He needed to love someone else in order to hate Thranduil, but Celebrian had no one to form a replacement attachment to.

But he didn't know this, at least not clearly or in words. He felt it, and with it despair. He cried himself to sleep.