Shattered Light

A/N: In response to a few of the recent reviews:

HHS: Now if Haldir just came out and told Erestor, where would the fun be in that? Certainly Orophin and Rumil wouldn't have any fun teasing their brother. :D It's all about watching Haldir's famed arrogant attitude crumble in the face of embarrassment.

Twilight: First, funky. Technically we have the same names. Second, Haldir doesn't sleep talk whilst on duty because he's 1) so focused on his duty he forgets most everything else, including when to sleep and eat sometimes and 2) when he does sleep, he's so exhausted he just crashes.

Speaking of the lovely Hal, be prepared to find him in an apron with cream on his nose in the next chapter. XD

Now onto the chapter! And Happy New Years everyone!


Chapter 8: Old Pains

“Elrond? May we talk?”

At the question issuedhis his father-in-law, Elrond tilted his head in slight confusion. He had expected this conversation from the moment Celeborn had ridden up to the manor; he just hadn‘t expected them to speak on the matter so soon. “Would you not like to rest first?” Elrond suggested in an attempt to hold off the impending conversation a little longer. “The journey from Lórien must have exhausted you. ’Tis no short distance from the Golden Wood to this valley.”

Celeborn merely shook his head. Instead he took hold of Elrond’s arm and steering him towards the gardens, leaving Glorfindel to tend to the horses whilst Thranduil set off for the training grounds. He knew what Elrond was trying to do, but they had to speak now. “I must speak to you…about Celebrían.” The silver lord inwardly cringed at the forlorn expression that haunted Elrond’s eyes at the very mention of his daughter’s name. “Please. ‘Tis better--for both of us--if we discuss this now rather than later.”

Reluctantly Elrond nodded his head, allowing Celeborn to steer him into the gardens and away from prying eyes and listening ears. For a time neither said anything as they wandered the grounds lost in their own thoughts. Celeborn never released the other’s arm as they walked.

“I still miss her,” Elrond eventually whispered. “The house seems empty without her presence, and the children miss having their mother despite their age. I know they try not to show their pain to help ease my own suffering, but I see it in their eyes. Every now and then they long for her patience and listening ear.”

“We all miss her,” Celeborn said gently.

“How do you cope, Celeborn?” Elrond turned to look at his father-in-law, trying to read the hazel eyes but failing to see into Celeborn‘s mind. “You and Galadriel. Surely things have not been easy for you. Celebrían was your own daughter, your only child. I…I cannot imagine the pain you must be in. I cannot begin to envision what life would be like without one of my children.”

“Then do not try, for it is a difficult thing indeed.” Celeborn stopped, releasing his hold on Elrond’s arm only to re-establish it in the form of a warm hug. “We--Galadriel and I--go on knowing that Celebrían is alive, and that she must be well. What was done to her should have claimed her life, but surely the Blessed Land must have healed her wounds. We live knowing that she is well, though it will be long before we are able to see her again. The thought both saddens me and lightens my heart.”

Elrond listened quietly to Celeborn’s words, his head resting upon the silver lord’s shoulder. Tears prickled at the corners of Elrond’s eyes as memories assaulted him, memories of his sons bringing home a much changed Celebrían. “I will always miss her. But…”

“But love has found you again.” Celeborn smiled when startled gray eyes gazed up at him. “Do not presume to think I am blind, Elrond. I know Thranduil loves you; that he has always loved you even through his own marriage. He loved his wife, yes, but a piece of his heart has always belonged to you. And I know you are beginning to grow accustomed to his presence, at times even craving it.”

“How can I?” His voice sounded strange to his own ears, so lost and forlorn. Elrond looked at his father-in-law pleadingly, silently asking for council. “How can I feel this way so soon after she left? And you, how can you be so calm about it? You should forsake me, call me a disgrace. Anything but sound approving of the situation!”

“Is that what you really think?”

“I...I don’t know. My marriage vows…”

“Have been abso by by Celebrían. She loves you, Elrond. I believe she will always love you. Which is why she freed you of your vows: to find love again and be happy. It will be long before you are able to see her again; too long to be in loneliness.”

“But…”

“Nay, I will hear no protests. Your life has been riddled with tragedies, Elrond. Celebrían knows this, and set you free to be happy again. Do not forsake her gift to you. For if you do, I will truly call you a disgrace.”

Elrond sighed in defeat, knowing the wisdom and reasoning behind Celeborn’s words but finding them difficult to accept nonetheless. “I will try,” he whispered.

“Try?”

“Try to be happy. For her sake.”

“Do not only do it for her sake, Elrond. Do it for your children; they deserve to see their remaining parent in peace. Do it for yourself, for it is what you need.”

The dark head nodded slowly whilst the gray eyes closed. Elrond willed himself to relax as he took comfin Cin Celeborn’s warm embrace, allowing himself to be comforted and giving in to the silent support as he tried to sort out his feelings.

~~~~~~~~~~

“What troubles you, pen-neth?”

Elladan was startled out of his thoughts when addressed by the Mirkwood King. After his grandfather and father had left the party for a few moments to themselves, the twins had removed themselves and headed for the training grounds after Rúmil; Thranduil, Legolas, Orophin and a few of the Galadhrim had followed. The elder twin had watched the spag mag matches that had taken place after pleasantries with a distant eye and half an ear. He was most surprised when it was Thranduil who brought him out of his thoughts.

“Nothing, Sire,” Elladan replied in a quiet voice. “I just worry.”

“For your father, perhaps?”

The young Peredhel allowed himself a brief smile. “Is there anything that escapes your attention, my Lord?”

“Hardly,” Thranduil replied with a short laugh. “I have four children of my own, I will have you remember. Very little escapes my eye, even when the person I am observing is someone else’s son. So tell me, then, what is it that troubles you about your father?”

Elladan briefly toyed with the idea of not confiding in the Mirkwood King. In the end, however, he thought better of it and decided to forge ahead, revealing his thoughts to the golden-haired lord. “I worry for his health, his happiness. His demeanor has improved much since your arrival, but I know he still battles with himself.”

“You care a great deal about your father.”

“I would imagine about as much as your own sons and daughter care about you, Sire.”

Thranduil smiled proudly at Elladan’s statement, nodding his head as he turned back to the spectacle of his sons sparring, their keen knives and sword flashing in the sunlight. “Aye, that they do. I am blessed to have such children, as is your father to have you and your siblings.”

“I miss my mother,” Elladan murmured, gazing down at the ground. “I remember her last words to Ada: to find love and happiness again. I want him to, and I know that he does as well. But I also know that he wars within himself on the matter, thinking he might betray her memory if he did so. Nana absolved their marriage vows, did you know that, my Lord?”

“I have heard. Your mother must have truly loved your father to do such a thing.”

The Peredhel nodded, keeping his gaze trained on the ground. “I hope he will listen to her words and overcome his fears. Ada deserves to be happy.”

“As do you, pen-neth.”

Elladan lifted his eyes and gazed at the MirkwKingKing in confusion, unable to decipher the brief smirk that passed across Thranduil’s face. “What do you mean, my Lord?”

Thranduil knew; oh, did he know about the recent days his youngest son had spent with this twin. Thranduil was always concerned with the comings and goings of his family. He was forever watching whom they spent their time with; his sons and daughter were well past the age of finding eternal lovers. Thranduil was ever vigilant on the matter of them finding love where least expected, but he never pressed the idea upon them. Let them find love in their own wat tht their own pace, he had always thought.

Since coming to Imladris, he had seen the way Legolas acted around Elladan and the response from the young Peredhel. Neither might have known it yet, but Thranduil knew. Love was budding between them; perhaps he could give it a subtle push in the right direction.

“Do not be so engrossed in your father’s happiness that you let your own slip away,” Thranduil counseled wisely. He turned, gesturing to where Elrohir and Orophin stood. The pair were whispering quietly to one another, hands clasped as they stood close. When they thought no one was looking, they would share a brief kiss before pretending that nothing had happened. “Take your brother, for instance. Do you not think he too worries for your father? I believe he does, but he has faith that Elrond will deal with his inner demons and pain. In the meantime, he does not allow his worries to impair the love he has found with the young Galadhrim.”

Elladan listened quietly to Thranduil as the king spoke, whilst his gray eyes were fixed on the form of his brother and Orophin. The pair seemed happy together, and suddenly Elladan began to wonder if he would ever have that happiness. He wondered if he would ever have someone who loved him as much as Orophin loved his brother; someone he could love in return. So lost in thought was he that the elder twin nearly missed Thranduil’s next words.

“Elladan? Take some advice from me.”

With a nod of his head, Elladan indicated that he was listening. broubrought his gaze up to meet Thranduil’s sapphire orbs, waiting for the king to speak.

“Follow your heart, Elladan,” Thranduil said in a soft whisper, words meant only for the twin’s ears. “Listen to what it is saying and follow what it tells you. When you find what your heart most desires, don’t give it up. Don’t wait, thinking it’s too soon, because once you do listen it will be too late. I waited too long, but I was lucky and was given a second chance to listen to what my heart was saying. You may not have that second chance.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean, pen-neth. Your heart already sings, telling you what it wants. Listen to it, heed its words. Don’t wait.”

“King Thranduil…”

“Elladan?”

He turned at the sound of his name to find Legolas standing behind him. The prince had long shed his jerkin and now stood in his tunic. A light sheen of sweat covered his exposed skin, evidence of his just-finished sparring match against his brother. Elladan found the sight radiant and suddenly felt his chest constricting, flutters invading his stomach.

“Elladan, will you spar with me?” Legolas asked innocently, oblivious to the conversation the Peredhel had just had with his father.

Not knowing what to say, Elladan spared a glance back at Thranduil. The king merely smiled, nodding his head and making a small motion with his hand. With a nod in return, Elladan turned back to Legolas whilst reaching for his sword. “As you wish,” he replied to Legolas’ request. “But I warn you, I will not go easy on you.”

“Then I am pleased, for I did not intend to be given any special treatment.” With a brilliant smile, Legolas made for the area marked off as the sparring ring, unsheathing his two knives, which were tied to his thighs for ease of reach.

Thranduil watched Elladan go, the twin stretching his arms and swinging his sword in graceful arcs to warm up for the match to come. “Listen to the song, Elladan,” the king whispered, whilst proudly watching his son and the elder twin bow and clasp hands before readying themselves. “Listen to the words and follow them.”

TBC...