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Summary: none given
Author's Notes: I highly doubt this is what the receiver had in mind when making this request, but the muses are in the Drivers’ seat…I’m just along for the ride.
~~~
Celeborn scanned the myriad people waiting on the shore as the last ship from Middle Earth pulled into dock on the white shores of Valinor. He sighed. How was it that a place could be packed tight with people…and yet be completely empty.
He really should have expected this. When she’d left, he’d said to find someone. He hadn’t known when he would be following, or even if he would be following. So he’d sent her on her way with his love and blessings upon any source of happiness she could find.
So, why was he sulking, when he should have been looking forward to seeing how his Celebrían fared and greeting old, long missed friends?
Because evidently, 1,600 years had been too long to wait, and she’d found another. Honestly, the least she could have done was attend his arrival and let him meet the bugger.
Snorting at his own silliness, Celeborn flicked lint from his cuff and pasted a big smile on his face as he stepped onto the white sands and into his Celebrían’s arms. He held her tightly, stroking her hair. “So good to see you, my Silver Girl.” // How are you?//
Celebrían smiled faintly and hugged him back. “I’ve missed you.” // Improving…I am improving.//
He sighed and kissed her temple. “Good.” Not the outcome he was hoping for, but he would certainly take whatever good news fate chose to grant him, and be content.
Celebrían tucked his arm around hers and escorted him across the beach, pausing occasionally to chat with friends and well-wishers.
“I am somewhat surprised to see that your Naneth is not here,” he commented casually.
She bit her lip. “Oh, yes. She was…detained.”
Celeborn blinked. That was it. Nothing about sending her regards or explaining WHY she was detained. He let out a soft ‘hn’ and let the moment pass.
~~~~~
Crystalline blue eyes narrowed on the silver-pale form moving through the milling elves. So. He’d finally come. The disloyal wretch.
A perfectly manicured hand beckoned a servant forward and handed him a tightly rolled scroll sealed with the stylized “F” of the house of Finwe.
The servant nodded, bowed, and left the room quickly.
The blue eyes returned to staring
out the window. So, the Silver Tree had finally come to Valinor?
The eyes narrowed further. Disloyal wretch.
Celebrían suddenly recalled an appointment she’d forgotten and moved off, urging him to visit with her again later.
Celeborn sighed and watched her skirt around the edge of the crowd, outright avoiding the areas of heaviest congestion. He looked over, blinking at the very stuffily formal elf stalking towards him.
“Celeborn of Doriath?”
Celeborn blinked. He hadn’t been called that in more years than he cared to remember. “I am he, yes.”
The elf shoved a scroll into his hand, spun on his heel, and stalked off.
Celeborn looked down at the scroll in his hand and grunted. Either the elves of Valinor had completely dismissed any form of polite social interaction…or he was persona non grata. Either way, it was going to be a very long eternity.
Sighing, he broke the seal and opened the scroll.
If thy Lady you wish to see, first perform these small tasks three.
That was it.
Wait…that was it? One sentence? Not even a clue as to what these mysterious tasks were? Was Galadriel playing some sort of vindictive game with him? Was this to be his penance for not sailing with her, to spend the rest of his life trying to perform unknown tasks in order to get back in her good graces?
//I think not.// He huffed, straightened his travelling clothes, and asked the nearest elf where to find his wife.
The elf blinked wide-eyed and
pointed toward the city. “The Lady Galadriel resides within
the house of her sire.”
Celeborn lifted the golden knocker and let it fall. //A knocker? What happened to being greeted by the heads of house, as a visitor should be?//
He smacked it again against the plate, hearing the sound echoing through the inner hall. After what seemed like hours later, the door opened, revealing the teeth-grindingly annoying elf from the beach.
“Take me to the Lady Galadriel.”
The elf snorted. “The Lady Artanis is not currently receiving visitors.”
Celeborn ground his teeth. “She’ll see me.”
A perfect golden eyebrow arched. “Very well.” He turned and stalked back down the corridor, not bothering to see if Celeborn followed.
Celeborn seethed. He
hated Valinor already…
Cold crystal eyes pinned Celeborn the moment he entered the chamber. He blinked at the imposing elf seated across the room. THIS was Finarfin? He’d somehow imagined Feanor’s half-brother to be much…smaller.
Celeborn took a deep breath and stepped forward, taking a knee. “My Lord Finarfin, I am –“
“I know who you are.”
Celeborn blinked. Well then. “The lady Gala –“
“Her name is Artanis. You will refer to her as such.”
The newly arrived elf sighed. “My Lord Finarfin, it is obvious that you are ill with me. You need only tell me what I have done to garner your anger and I will do what I can to assuage it.”
Finarfin crossed his legs, picking at his nails.
Celeborn waited…and waited…and waited. Finally reaching the end of his patience, he stood. “Lord Finarfin, if you would please inform Galadriel of my arrival, we can part ways and I need never darken your path again.”
Finarfin wore a bored expression on his face. “My daughter Artanis will not know of your arrival until I choose to inform her. And that will not happen until you prove your worth, Prince of Doriath.”
Celeborn’s eyes flashed in anger. “You have no right to –“
Finarfin…chuckled. “You dare speak to me of rights? My daughter had the right to have her husband follow her to Aman, did she not? She had the right to a husband who would put her happiness before his own, correct? Do not dare speak to me of rights, Celeborn of Doriath. The only rights you have are those I choose to grant you.”
Celeborn grunted. “So these tasks…were they your idea?”
Finarfin’s eyes brightened in pleasure. “Oh my, yes. I am not known for being a pitiless elf. You will have a chance to earn the right to see my daughter.”
Celeborn blinked. He had to earn the right to see his own wife?
He really hated Valinor…
He really, really hated Valinor.
Celeborn eyed the map provided by his friend, the arrogant elf from the beach.
He’d begun to wonder exactly why he’d come to this wretched place.
“How long do I have to make this trip?”
“Exactly one day from the moment you take the rope and knife from my hand.”
Celeborn blinked. Twenty hours. He had precisely twenty hours to go 130 miles. Even at his fastest speed, he’d just barely make the time limit, and that was if he encountered no difficulty and traveled non-stop.
He sighed. If he didn’t know better, he’d think Finarfin didn’t like him…
Wait…thought brewing. Come on, brew faster, brew faster!
Yes!
Celeborn snatched the rope, took one last look at the map, and sprinted along the trail.
He took to the trees the moment Arrogant Elf disappeared from view, flitting from limb to limb, surefooted as one born to the trees of Middle Earth should be. By either his natural grace or the will of Yavanna, the trees embraced him, offering their strongest branches for his use.
Twenty miles out, Celeborn paused to rest high in a shady pine and chew its needles for water. He watched the skies, his fingers twisting and looping the rope.
Testing the knot, he threw the rope and jumped.
Really, Valinor wasn’t so
bad…
Celeborn dismounted, unfastening his rope from the Eagle’s leg. He stroked the bird’s strong neck. “Thank you for the ride, friend. I’ll find a fish for you the next time we cross paths.”
The Eagle twittered and took to the skies.
Celeborn sighed and looked around. So, this was Yavanna’s pasture. Nice. Now, to find his contact…who seemed to be running late. Not nice. As it was, if he hurried, he could make it back with an hour to spare.
Twenty minutes of pacing later, Celeborn was ready to tear his hair out. Did no one believe in being punctual in this place? Ten more minutes…
Ten minutes went by…fifteen…thirty. Celeborn grew desperate. He looked about frantically, his gaze finally settling on a ripe golden apple lying beneath a tree. //Good enough.// Snatching it up, he shoved it into his hip pouch and took off, springing from tree to tree. //This had better be good enough, or I’ll choke him with it!//
He hated Valinor.
The inner clock that had begun ticking the moment he’d taken the rope from Arrogant Elf continued to wind down. He burst through the gates of Valimar at a sprint, keeping his eye focussed on the cliffside as he darted down first one street and then another. Fifteen minutes…he had fifteen minutes to make it there or…
…or…
Or what, exactly? Arta – nay, Galadriel - was well past her majority, and technically still bound to him. While it would be nice to remain on good terms with her family, Finarfin could really do nothing to keep him from his Lady wife.
Celeborn snorted. He could take his time.
So why in Arda was he still running? Pride. He’d nearly broken his neck to get this far, and he’d be damned if he would give his smug Law-father and that Arrogant Elf something to cackle over at his expense. So he’d run on, finish in the allotted time, and be finished with the ordeal entirely. And when it came time for the other tasks, he’d follow through on them as well.
By his count, there was a full 45 seconds to spare when he finally slapped the golden apple into Finarfin’s palm.
Finarfin smirked. “Thank you.” He took a bite. “Quite tasty. I have wanted one for quite some time now.” He sauntered away. “Too bad you missed the deadline by two minutes.”
Celeborn’s eyes flared wide. “What?!”
Finarfin continued to walk away. “It was an admirable effort, but you missed it by two minutes.”
Celeborn swore viciously.
Galadriel appeared before her father, arms crossed and a dangerous look in her eye. “Adar.”
Finarfin took a bite of his apple. “Aye, Artanis?”
Her eyebrow arched. “Please lie and tell me you were not making my Lord do your absurd ‘Three Tasks’. I thought we had seen an end of that.”
Finarfin shrugged. “An Adar will always be an Adar, Artanis.” He continued on past her. “We will have his personal items moved to one of the guest rooms in the East Wing until he can find sufficient housing for his family…”
Celeborn blinked. Sufficient housing? It was just him, how difficult could it – wait…his family?
Galadriel approached her long missed husband. “Do not let my Adar and his lover fool you. He likes you. He put all of my suitors through his ‘tasks’…but only one has ever dared to attempt it.”
Celeborn blinked. So that annoying, over bearing, arrogant…
He chuckled, pulling her in for a hug.
Valinor wasn’t nearly as
bad as he’d thought.
The End