THE SUNSET

"The purest and most thoughtful minds are those which love colour the most."
- The Stones of Venice II (1853)

John Ruskin

Notes:

Category: Lord of the Rings

Author: Sadie Sil

Beta: Virtuella

Genre: Romance

Rating: T

Timeline: Early years of the Third Age

Disclaimer: I didn't create any of these wonderful characters. I've just borrowed them from the Professor, devoting them all my love. Now I feel they are also a little bit mine, but I am sure the good Professor won't mind dividing them with me.

Synopsis: After much waiting time, Elrond and Celebrian are able to start a life together.

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CHAPTER 1

Even for elves, nearly two thousand years was too long time.

This certitude was part of the lord of Rivendell's thoughts, whose eyes were fixed on the image he saw by his office window. For more often than it would be wise, he had allowed himself to take that short path from his chair to that side window from where he could see the garden. Since Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn's arrival, all the late afternoons had turned into a strange vigil. When the birds began to announce the evening, he automatically abandoned his papers, it didn't matter if they were urgent or not, and stayed there, silent, in front of that pane.

He did it for the most unexpected and inexplicable reason…

He did it only because he knew she would come to watch the sunset.

The first time he saw her, it was in the middle of a tumultuous period of confrontation and loss. That time he had not even dared to look at her for too long. The blond lady was just another member of the delegation her mother was leading across few safe lands to meet her husband again. Celeborn had led an army against invading forces and Elrond himself had led a contingent to his friend's aid.

However, all of those courageous attempts to defend their lands from that horrible evil couldn't prevent the fall of Eregion, or the death of one of the noblest elvish smiths, Celebrimbor, the son of Curufin.

No. That was not an appropriate time for having thoughts which weren't related to important and urgent issues like the correct placement of weapons and soldiers and the immediate future... No. In those days, Elrond couldn't think about love.

That's why he had to endure watching her leave. And the family, reunited again and accompanied by the rest of the people who followed Celeborn, took their way to another land.

And Elrond hadn't seen her for a long time, keeping, however, the memory of a moment when the bright of a couple of blue eyes dared to move in his direction, offering him something beyond a mere memory. Something that, undisciplined, Elrond's heart insisted on naming hope.

Since then they've never talked to each other, limiting themselves to mere greetings on the rare occasions when fate brought them together.

So when a message from Celeborn came, communicating that he and his family were arriving with the intention of staying in Imladris, if possible, for an indefinite period of time, Elrond found himself immediately lost in old thoughts; thoughts that had escaped from the place where he had kept them.

And some uncertain feelings the Lord Elf had buried for so long became an undeniable conviction as soon as his eyes saw, even briefly, the figure of the daughter of Celeborn.

Celebrian was her name, the Lórinand Maiden who, in his thoughts, he would like to give the title of the Lady of Imladris, as the Lady of his heart she had already become since the first time he saw her.

It was the beginning of a new age. And, despite the conflicting past, there was an unrestrained expectation in the air. Everybody believed that they would be living better times. The trees had their most striking shades of green, the flowers took more time to fade, and the smiles of the city's inhabitants almost never left them.

Elrond closed his eyes for a moment, experiencing the greatest conflict of his existence. He had never fallen in love; he had never allowed himself to do that. His whole life had been permeated by such big losses that his heart has refused to give in to any more passionate feelings than to protect his people, to worry about what might be lurking on the horizon, to expect the worst… ever...

These thoughts were haunting him now. For a long time he has not questioned his origins, his choices, his role in history, but by that prospect, that possibility, yet extremely remote, he saw himself at an impasse he didn't even know if he would like to avoid or not.

There were many doubts in the air, many questions that led him to want to hear that voice of reason that had always been his guide and adviser.

No. No. No, the voice has told him. Let her follow her own path; do not try to bind her to your own, even if it is her desire. Let her try to seek happiness elsewhere than this so severely scarred territory, in the company of someone other than an elf for whom fate always seemed to reserve the most difficult trials.

Elrond shook his head, pushing those thoughts away. That was silly. That was...

And his thoughts were finally silenced, not by the firm voice of his conscience, but by the wild sound of his heart. His eyes now followed the swing of a green dress, the gentle shake of some golden hair. She always took the same path, crossing the garden, taking a seat and staying there until the servants began to light the lamps. Sometimes someone came to talk to her, sometimes she came accompanied by her mother, but most of the times, as on that day, she was alone, watching the last rays of the sun and the first stars.

The first stars...

"Star ... My Star." He heard himself playing with that word like an elfling learning the meaning of a foreign language. And for a moment the elf-lady looked up as if she had heard it and just didn't catch him watching her because he was pretty fast.

Time went by and Elrond was able, little by little, to re-occupy his mind with what was in his power and his care. And the image of the beautiful daughter of the former house of Eregion could just overwhelm his mind when he was too distracted from his duties. They both had occupied the same table at dinner, but Elrond didn't dare to look at her more than necessary for the short greeting. At first he felt her eyes look at him a few times, but, eventually, the coldness of his performance was mirrored by the guest too.

That was crazy. It was better it had ended like that, without even having begun. After all they had barely talked during all these years. He must have only been deluding his lonely heart with a hope that wouldn't bring any good to anybody.

Yes, he must have been just doing that.

Yes, he must believe that…

Elrond was walking back home. One of his patrols had had an accident in the forest and he had gone to investigate the severity of the captain's injuries. Once he was satisfied that his soldier was well tended to and would recover, he quickly returned. Elrond was trying to shake off the unpleasant feeling that the incident had caused him. He had already seen so much trouble in his life that when he heard about the accident he just couldn't avoid judging it as something worse than what in fact it was.

However, while he was walking back, something took his attention and his eyes moved, following the image of a small rabbit that crossed the yard, about to disappear in a small green bush that grew alongside one of the major banks of the garden. He could even have smiled at the animal's quickly maneuver, if he had not realized who was there: Sitting on that same bench, as she did every day, was someone who would never lose her bright, even under the most clouded sky.

"Lord Elrond." The daughter of Galadriel nodded in a formal greeting and Elrond stopped immediately, realizing he was in a diplomatic impasse. He simply could not continue without at least giving the guest a little attention.

Yes. It was his duty as a good host, a duty that, for the first time, brought him a sudden chill, even in the middle of a warm spring day.

A chill... and something more...

"My Lady," Elrond tried to settle his face, considering that his crazed heart has already ceased to obey him. "Enjoying the garden?" he asked, without approaching.

The Lady's face lit up in a way that he had not yet seen, as if she were really pleased with the meeting. Could it actually be true? Could he actually believe this? Would it be right?

"You have here the most beautiful garden I've ever seen, sir" she said, rising and coming slowly to his direction. "The gardeners told me that you, my lord, get flowers and ornaments from various regions of Middle-earth."

Elrond took a deep breath, putting a subtle smile on his lips.

"I am a healer, my lady," he tried to lessen that particular virtue that seemed to be of such importance to the elf-lady. Although he really loved that colorful garden, he did not want her to have an exaggerated idea of his affection for Yavanna's creations.

Celebrian dropped her shoulders slightly, but her blue eyes did not stop looking at him. Elrond allowed himself that contact he had been avoiding for so long. Now he realized he needed it, he needed to know how it would be talk to her, feel her. He needed to extinguish the last flames of illusion and feel what the reality would put in their place.

But then, Celebrian smiled and he felt that reality could have the same taste as the best of illusions.

"There are different flowers from where we came," she said with enthusiasm. "I earnestly studied them and know them well. Is there any kind that you are seeking in order to complete your garden?"

Elrond continued to look at the elf-lady, as if her mere voice had cradled his mind. He then realized that the bad feeling had gone and his heart had recovered its proper beat, bringing him back that important sense of security he thought he had lost.

Just something of extreme importance had not changed...

"I think my garden has never been more beautiful..." he said and continued to look at her much more time than it would be necessary, until he realized the lady elf blushing and lowering her eyes. Only then he noticed his attitude and if he has ever felt disconcerted before, he could not remember a moment worse than that. "I apologize, my lady," he said, controlling the embarrassed tone of his voice. "If you excuse me."

Without awaiting any consent, the lord of Imladris started to move away, already hearing his conscience scolding him with the worst reprimands. So many years of experience and he realized he definitely did not know how to handle a situation like that.

And from that day on he stood again by that window at that same time of day…

"So," said Erestor, who had occupied the same office that afternoon. He had come to show his friend some scrolls which had arrived and they have spent the day comparing them with other documents to try to discover whose the handwriting was. "I think the best thing to do with all of that is throwing them away, maybe the forges are in need of fuel for the furnaces. What do you think?"

Elrond just nodded indifferently, his eyes fixed on something that, in the past few days, had been more important than all the libraries of that land or any other. The advisor wisely kept silent for a few moments until his friend's conscience slowly repeated the phrase he had just heard. When Elrond turned puzzled at his friend who was still sitting in front of the old papers, he met him with a look that did not please him.

"What have you said you would do with the material, Erestor?" he asked, but the provocative smile he received from the advisor has been replaced by a very concerned face. Erestor stood up, and then approached the window as well, standing by his friend side.

"Did you know she daily attends my library?" he asked and Elrond followed the advisor's gaze as if he thought it would fall on someone else.

"Lady Celebrian?" he offered the completely dispensable question.

"Yes. Did you consider her the kind of lady who spends the day with embroidery on her lap?"

Elrond's face hardened.

"I did not consider her at all." He finally understood the way in which his friend was trying to lead him. "Even because I see no harm in our lady friends' affairs. If we carry a beautiful banner, it hasn't appeared in our hands magically."

Erestor hid his smile, watching Elrond cautiously move away from the window.

"Oh, yes. Sure. It is also among her skills, the old sewing and embroidery, as well as the mastery of the most diverse languages and the management of various types of weapons. Although, according to her mother, she was not as devoted to dealing with weapons as her parents are."

Elrond turned to his advisor then, a bit tired of that speech. He knew Erestor better than he wished to. They were longtime friends.

"Why do you have this sudden interest, Erestor? Are you finally contemplating the accomplishments of a possibly bride?" He tried to hide the mixed feelings those little revelations about Celebrian have awakened in him. Surprise... Admiration... Jealousy...

"Yes. For sure," Erestor's smile widened as a few times Elrond had seen before, especially after he has perceived the healer's pale face. "But not for me."

Elrond curved his eyebrows without understanding and Erestor approached again, holding him by the shoulders.

"I know my advisor function does not include the counsel that I am going to give you, mellon-nin," he said, looking at the other elf seriously. "But, if I may do so, in the role of a friend, I have to say that you are right to not judge or be interested in anything that Lady Celebrian is or does."

"Why?" the question escaped from Elrond's mouth faster than he had expected and almost awoke the advisor a fit of laughter that would have been misinterpreted. Erestor tried to contain himself, only squeezing the shoulder he held.

"Because I know that nothing can take her from your heart, Elrond. And I do not imagine that there is indeed something in her that would make you want to do that, even if you could."

Elrond pressed his lips, keeping the air inside his lungs to try to stay calm. Having a friend who knew you so well was not always the best of advantages.

"My heart is not open, Erestor."

The counselor signed; another subtle smile was in his serene face.

"I did not say it was," he said, walking to the door. "But she's in it anyway…" he added, opening the door and passing through it. Though, before he closed it, he looked to his friend once again. "Perhaps she is in it because that has always been her place... Have you ever thought about that?"

TO BE CONTINUED