A/N: Thanks for viewing this story! I'm planning on continuing it, and I promise my writing improves as the chapters go on. This is actually a second draft of the prologue, where I took into account some things people recommended to me in the reviews (I take each review seriously and really appreciate everyone who takes the time to write me a review!)

Note on special symbols/pronounciation: Celedë does indeed have two dots above the last "e" and I've added them in this draft but not the other chapters yet. There is still debate over whether the "dë" is pronounced "day" or "dee," but the "c" definitely makes the "k" sound. I personally pronounce her name "Keh-leh-dee" kinda rhyming with "melody" if that helps. Celebrían is pronounced "Keh-leh-BRI-an."

Disclaimer: I do not own in any way any part of the fantastic world created by J.R.R. Tolkien/Peter Jackson. If any line or scene seems recognizable to you, attribute it to Tolkien/Jackson. This is simply for my enjoyment and it is posted under "fanfiction" after all. :-)

Hidden by a ring of trees, birds chirped to each other blissfully on the outskirts of a clearing that was tucked neatly into a valley in the Misty Mountains. Like most of the mountain range, this section of the mountains was consumed by nature and untouched by civilization. Suddenly though, the birds' songs turned to warning shrieks as a rider on horseback galloped into the clearing, following a worn path that snaked between the mountains. Two other riders quickly followed, flanking the first rider on either side. Their pure white horses created a startling contrast to the jet black horse the lead rider rode.

The riders themselves could only be described as beautiful, possessing a grace that no Man could replicate. All of them rode the horses with neither bridle nor saddle, yet they were able to balance perfectly on their steeds. As they raced into the clearing, the lead rider raised a hand, and with a gentle word, she brought her horse to a halt in the center of the clearing. The other riders quickly drew to a halt as well and dismounted as their leader did. Clearly a lady of some kind, the lead rider wore long, flowing riding clothes that allowed her to sit on the horse but still retain a lady's proper adornment. Her wavy golden hair was clasped away from her face by a simple clip of silver leaves, revealing two slender ears that ended in points. She was not just any lady, nor was she even human. This traveler was none other than the Lady Celebrían, her silver-leaved hair clip bearing tribute to her name and native land. The two riders accompanying her, with matching bronze armor and sheathed weapons, could only have been her guards.

Celebrían was traveling lightly as she rode her beloved horse, Anaron, from her home of Rivendell to the Elvish haven Lothlórien. It had been too long since she had last visited her parents, Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, and Celebrían was eager to tell them the latest news. After two thousand years, Celebrían was once again expecting a child. Without even telling her beloved mate, Lord Elrond of Rivendell, of the soon-to-be new arrival, Celebrían had departed for the home of her parents, where she intended to stay for the birth of the new child and perhaps a few centuries afterward. Time moved so slowly for the immortal Elves that visits for hundreds of years were not uncommon.

However, Celebrían suspected Elrond would waste no time in traveling to Lothlórien after she sent him the news of her pregnancy. She felt guilty for not telling Elrond before she left, but she wanted to surprise her parents and make amends for neglecting to inform them of the birth of their granddaughter, Arwen. Arwen had been nearly a century old before the news reached Lothlórien for the first time. Celebrían felt a letter would not suffice either, no matter how soon after the birth it was delivered, which was why she now traveled in person to her parents' domain of Lothlórien.

As Celebrían had been riding Anaron through the Redhorn Pass all day, she now decided to stretch her legs and rest for a moment in the center of the clearing they had come to. She was about to sit down in the grass when one of her guards spoke up.

"My lady, I wouldn't recommend resting in such an exposed area. May I suggest the edge of the clearing, perhaps by that fallen log? You will be better sheltered if some trouble were to happen."

Celebrían smiled.

"Certainly, Meldir. I shall do as you suggest, although this journey has been rather uneventful so far."

"Lord Elrond entrusted us with your safety, my lady," Meldir replied solemnly, "And we will uphold the trust of the Lord of Rivendell with our lives."

Celebrían nodded, unsurprised by the loyalty her mate invoked in his subjects. They followed his orders not because they had to, but because they wanted to. Lord Elrond's wise and gentle manner had not only made him beloved among his people, but had also stolen Celebrían's own heart many years ago. Celebrían sighed as she led Anaron to the edge of the clearing Meldir had pointed out. Only a few days had passed and she already missed her mate terribly. She prayed to the Vala he would understand the reason for her sudden flight to Lorien.

Anaron gratefully tucked his legs under him and lay down as Celebrían sat down beside him and leaned back against his powerful shoulder. She absentmindedly rested a hand on her belly, still quite flat, and hummed a lullaby to the child she carried. Her guards left her to scan the perimeter of the clearing, their own horses content to munch on grass nearby. As she hummed, Celebrían gazed up at the beautiful mountain beside her that was known as Caradhras to the Elves. The mountain's snow-capped summit gave credence to the fact that it wasone of the highest peaks in the Misty Mountains, the chain of mountains that the Redhorn Pass allowed one to navigate through instead of over. As Celebrían admired the beauty and peace of the Pass, she felt her eyes slowly close. Feeling safe and relaxed, she drifted off into a light sleep. Her body was exhausted from the journey though, especially in her condition, and Celebrían's wakeful sleep soon grew into a deep slumber.

By the time Celebrían jerked herself awake, evening had fallen. Celebrían mentally scolded herself for sleeping so long, then quickly looked about her surroundings. Why hadn't her guards woken her sooner?

The sun had just begun to sink below the mountains, casting the Pass in a reddish glow. A quick glance around the clearing revealed no one else, not even the other horses. Celebrían glanced nervously at her own horse, but Anaron was sound asleep, his head drooping towards the ground. Careful not to wake him, Celebrían slowly rose from the ground. Her body ached from sitting in one position for so long, but she didn't waste time stretching as she moved swiftly across the clearing, searching for her guards. There was a large rock hidden in the shadows of the trees some distance away that she could just make out from where she stood. Celebrían decided to head towards it, as it would provide a good hiding spot if there was danger. Creeping slowly towards the rock, Celebrían scanned the surrounding area. Strangely, there was still no sign of her guards. Turning back to the rock, Celebrían frowned. It was a very oddly shaped boulder. She walked towards it curiously, and when she was close enough, her eyes widened and she screamed in horror.

The rock was not a rock at all. It was a pile of bodies. Two familiar horses had been thrown one on top of the other, no longer white but stained dark red with blood. Celebrían could see each of their ribs shining starkly pale against their blood red flesh, much of which was missing, as if it had been ripped away by some foul beast.

Celebrían's guards lay dismembered nearby, their heads lolling and only half attached to their bodies. Celebrían desperately fought down the urge to throw up and staggered away, back to the clearing. What creature could have done this to them, and so silently that she had not even woken up? Her loyal guards, whom she'd known for a thousand years, were clearly beyond her help. Celebrían prayed to the Vala that her companions would find their way to peace in the Halls of Mandos.

Anaron, who must have been woken up by Celebrían's scream, whinnied warningly to her as she stepped into the clearing. Celebrían paused, but heard nothing. She began heading towards her horse when a sudden sharp noise emanated from the other side of the clearing, as if a twig had been broken underfoot. Celebrían froze. She had reached the center of the clearing and was now completely exposed. Anaron whickered warningly, his ears twitching toward the foreign sound. Celebrían silently moved into action, slipping into a defensive crouch. Constantly scanning for movement, she ran to her horse and unstrapped her bow from Anaron's saddle-pack. Without a sound, she pulled an arrow out of her quiver, nocked it, and drew her bow taut as she aimed cautiously around her, preparing to strike at any sign of movement.

The noise came again, a scuffle that she pinpointed as coming from behind a bend in the path a few hundred feet in front of her, where the clearing ended and the trees hid the source of the noise from view. Celebrían walked around Anaron protectively, ignoring his whinny of protest, and aimed at the farthest point of the path she could see. With a sudden flurry of movement and an evil snarl, the shadowy figure of an orc leaped into view from behind a large tree trunk. It quickly fired a black, barbed arrow at her. Celebrían swerved out of the way, barely avoiding being struck, as she fired her own arrow. Her aim was true, and the orc fell with a shriek that echoed around the isolated pass. Darting back to Anaron, Celebrían desperately yanked her quiver free from her pack and swung it across her back, nocking another arrow in the process.

She had barely taken more than a few seconds to arm herself again, but when Celebrían glanced back towards the bend, her heart sank. At least a dozen orcs had already begun to charge her and Anaron. Still reeling from the shock that her guards had been taken down so quickly and quietly by some unknown foe, Celebrían turned and fled on instinct. Moving towards the far edge of the clearing, she relied on her keen Elvish senses as she dodged arrow after arrow and fired back with the speed and accuracy that only an Elf could have.

It didn't take long for Celebrían to realize, however, that no matter how skilled she was, she was fighting a losing battle. More orcs, all armed with bows and arrows, streamed through the trees from the other direction, forcing Celebrían to retreat back towards the center of the clearing. While Celebrían could avoid a few arrows, her heart sank as she realized she had no hope of escaping unscathed from this many orcs. Worse still, Anaron was a much larger and slower target for the orcs. While Celebrían was nimble and could dodge many of the arrows aimed at her, she could only watch in horror as arrow after arrow plunged into her horse's flesh. From her beloved horse's shrieks of agony, Celebrían suspected the arrows were laced with poison as well.

By now, the orcs had forced Celebrían all the way back to the center of the clearing and were swarming her in all directions. Celebrían noticed a hole in their circle and ran for it, trying desperately to escape into the forest. She had managed to get through and reach the tree line when she heard Anaron scream shrilly behind her. Another arrow had pierced his flesh. Celebrían winced. She could not leave her beloved horse to die here, alone. She would make a last stand at the edge of the clearing, facing the oncoming orcs, to save him. Celebrían called to Anaron, and her horse tossed his head in understanding. Then he tore through the ranks of orcs to stand between them and Celebrían.

Celebrían began firing arrows as quickly as she could, refusing to take time to hide. In an attempt to protect her, Anaron began to step back and forth in front of her, taking many of the arrows aimed for Celebrían. Celebrían's gut twisted at Anaron's cries as the arrows tore through his body, but the horse kept stepping bravely in front of her to take the arrows. His breathing grew heavier and more labored with each pass, but he continued to step in front of her.

After his sixth pass, however, Anaron began to tremble from the effects of the poison lacing the multitude of arrows that now stuck out of his sides like porcupine quills. He suddenly stumbled as his legs gave out from under him, and then tumbled to the ground between Celebrían and the orcs, releasing an anguished groan as his weight pushed arrows deeper into him. Ignoring the oncoming orcs, Celebrían shrieked with anguish and rushed to his side, aware that there was nothing she could do to save her horse. She made eye contact with Anaron, one hand gently stroking his head, and they exchanged one last glance both desperate and sorrowful but full of love. Then Anaron exhaled, a light vanishing behind his eyes as he laid his head down on the ground to rest forever.

"Goheno nin," whispered Celebrían in Elvish. Forgive me. I couldn't save you. Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. She furiously blinked them away and turned towards the oncoming orcs in rage.

Blinded by her tears and anger, Celebrían unsheathed her two long daggers from Anaron's saddle pack and met the orcs head on. With a tremulous cry, Celebrían tore at the group of orcs with renewed vigor. Parrying a dagger from an orc with one sword, Celebrían used her other dagger to stab the orc in the gut. Dark, hot blood splattered onto her face and hands as she pulled her weapon out. She flinched back, only to be forced to stab again into another orc on her other side to prevent him from killing her. Celebrían was able to take down several of them in this manner before the simple-minded, corrupt creatures regrouped and charged again.

After multiple dodges and offensive attacks, Celebrían beheaded and stabbed several more orcs before she was finally overwhelmed by the sheer number of them. She desperately threw a dagger up to stop an orc's sword from slashing down at her, but exposed her wrist in doing so. Another orc swung his blade at her face. She dodged backward, but her dagger was still locked with the other orc's sword and the blade continued its swing, slicing into her wrist.

Celebrían dropped her dagger with a cry of pain and cradled her wrist at her side, watching in horror as her blood spurted out of the gash the orc had given her and mixed with the darker blood of the orcs she had slain. She watched fearfully as the blood dripped in a steady stream to the ground. Glancing up once more, Celebrían realized she had lost the fight as an orc towered above her, his sword raised. Then he slammed the pummel of his weapon into the back of her head. As she succumbed to darkness, Celebrían fleetingly thought of Elrond, her beloved, and of how foolish she had been to leave him for this ill-conceived journey.

When Celebrían regained consciousness in the middle of the night, she opened her eyes blearily before her body started gagging on a putrid, rotten rag that had been shoved into her mouth. Tears came to her eyes as she continued to gag uncontrollably. Struggling to calm herself, Celebrían breathed deeply through her nose over and over. Her involuntary gags slowly subsided, but then Celebrían became aware of a sharp, agonizing pain in her right wrist that caused her to moan aloud and sent her into another gagging fit. Her hands had been bound behind her back and the thick rope dug into the wound that the orcs had subdued her with. Breathing heavily, Celebrían tried to focus on her surroundings in an attempt to ignore the flaring pain in her wrist. She realized she was lying on her side, unable to move or escape her torment. Too weak to attempt an escape, Celebrían retreated into herself and focused simply on continuing to breathe through her nose, trying futilely to ignore the pain that threatened to overwhelm her.

It wasn't long before the orcs sensed that their captive had woken up. Two orcs wandered over to their prisoner. One had a missing eye and the other was wearing several rings in his large, batty ears.

"What've we caught this time, huh? A she-elf, all alone in the woods?" cackled the one-eyed orc in the language of Mordor. Celebrían, her mind already unfocused, could barely make out the meaning of his garbled words.

The orc with earrings snickered back, "Maybe we ought to teach her that wandering around alone in the Misty Mountains isn't such a good idea."

With a vicious snarl, the orc kicked Celebrían in the ribs, causing her to double over on the ground in pain. As she struggled to get her breath back, Celebrían fell into another gagging fit.

The one-eyed orc grabbed her roughly by the arm and pulled her into a sitting position. "What's the matter, she-elf? Forgot how to breathe? Here, let me help." The orc pounded Celebrían on the back and let go of her arm, causing her to pitch forward, her bound hands unable to stop herself from slamming headfirst back into the ground.

"That better?" the orc shrieked with mirth, "Come on, you can talk, can't you?"

He ripped the gag out of Celebrían's mouth, and tears sprang to her eyes from the sheer relief of being free of the disgusting rag.

"I said, can't you?" he snarled.

"Let me go," Celebrían whispered feebly in the Common Tongue.

"What? You've got to speak louder than that! Even a mouse couldn't have heard you," the orc with earrings jeered.

"Please," Celebrían forced her voice louder, "Let me go."

Both the orcs laughed at that. Switching to the Common Tongue, the orc with earrings snickered.

"Set you free? Why would we do that? You've fallen into our hands, and we'll do what we want with you. We are just going to have a bit of fun. When we get hungry, then you can beg us again, and we might be…persuaded…to bring your suffering to an end. Elves taste good, but she-elves…even better."

The one-eyed orc licked his lips at this pronouncement. The pair were soon joined by other members of their gang, who ambled over to partake in "having a bit of fun."

Their idea of fun was to make Celebrían cry out when they beat her, and that was why Celebrían's gag had been removed. Celebrían clenched her teeth together in silent rebellion and refused to make a sound as the orcs kicked her and beat her, tossing her back and forth in a circle they had formed around her. She didn't know what the orcs would do once they achieved their goal. For the moment though, they had not decided to kill her directly, and Celebrían wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible. If she stayed alive long enough, she told herself, she would be saved. Her willpower depended on the belief that someone would save her, regardless of the reality that her chances of rescue were very, very slim.

In addition to staying silent, Celebrían also tried to prevent her belly, and therefore her unborn child, from being beaten as well. After an orc delivered a particularly nasty kick to her gut, Celebrían couldn't stop the flow of tears from coming, not from pain, but in anguish that her unborn child was in pain, or worse, would never live to see the world.

When another orc brought forth a whip, Celebrían's resolve almost failed. Added to the dull, aching pain of blunt blows, the whip brought sharp, stinging pain wherever it struck her. Soon she was bleeding profusely from multiple cuts scattered about her body, including the wound in her wrist. Although lightheaded and close to losing consciousness, Celebrían refused to yield to the orcs' demands. Eventually, the orcs decided to gather together to concoct a way to force her to scream, and with one final kick to the head that sent stars flashing across her eyes, they left Celebrían alone. With tears staining her cheeks, Celebrían silently sobbed words of forgiveness to her child before slipping back into oblivion. She was not awake to hear the orcs concoct their new plan.

"Let's stick her with a poisoned arrow," the one-eyed orc suggested. "Then she'll surely scream."

The other orcs shrieked eagerly at this idea, but the orc with earrings warned, "If she's poisoned, she won't be good to eat. I haven't had she-elf meat in a long time, and I plan to change that soon enough."

"But she's a tough one, she is," another orc argued, "Won't it be more fun to break her than end her suffering so quickly? And I don't see any other way to crush her except with poison. We still have a little of the stuff that the Mastergave us. I say we use it!"

The other orcs snarled in agreement, more eager to break Celebrían's willpower than end her suffering and eat her.

"No," snarled the orc with earrings, placing himself in front of Celebrían's unmoving figure, "I won't let you waste good food. Not 'til I've had my fill."

"Are you hungry, boys?" shrieked the one-eyed orc, "'Cause someone's just offered to be the next meal!"

Screeching in delight, the other orcs surrounded their former companion. The orc with earrings gulped and put his hands up in a futile attempt to save himself, but the other orcs leaped onto him and tore into his body. They ate him alive as he screamed to the silent, forbidding mountains.

ooOOoo

In a distant part of the Redhorn Pass, two Elves were intently studying horse tracks in the dirt. They must have been twins, for they were identical in every way, from their dark brown hair and blue eyes to their height, slender build, and matching green and brown hunting tunics.

Behind them lay the huge corpse of a massive bear they had recently taken down. The beast was easily four times as big as they were, and if the bear had been hungry, the two Elves surely wouldn't have been able to defeat it. Judging from its swollen belly though, the monster had recently eaten its fill by the time they came across it lumbering through the woods away from the mountains.

Distant screams soon fell upon their ears, coming from far away in the mountains. The twins stopped looking at the tracks and glanced uneasily at each other.

"That doesn't sound good," murmured one of the Elves.

"Hurry! She's in trouble," said the other Elf. They simultaneously leaped up, mounted their horses, and charged off down the Pass.

ooOOoo

Celebrían had just opened her eyes again, blinking in the early morning sunlight, as the disgustingly swollen, bald head of the one-eyed orc came into view.

"Don't wanna scream, huh she-elf?" the orc smirked, brandishing an arrow above Celebrían's heart. The point of the arrow glistened with a dark blue, nearly black liquid. Celebrían watched fearfully as a drop of the liquid formed at the tip of the arrow and fell to the ground. The grass beside her burned and sizzled at the touch of the strange substance, and Celebrían flinched away in terror.

"Wonder if you can stand the pain of poison? Me thinks you can't!" cried the one-eyed orc gleefully. As Celebrían frantically tried to wriggle away, she was stopped by other orcs, who shrieked in delight as they held her firmly in place. With a swift arc of his arm, the one-eyed orc plunged the arrow, dripping with blue-black poison, into the flesh below Celebrían's collarbone, just above her heart.

This pain was very different from the beatings and the whip. It was a twisting, writhing fire burning its way through Celebrían's body, turning all of her willpower to ashes. It made her entire body feel heavy and weak, and she could barely move because of the sudden unbearable pressure weighing down on her body. But it also sent searing waves of pain through her limbs, causing her to thrash uncontrollably, even as her limbs protested against every movement with more excruciating pressure and pain.

This pain was worse than any Celebrían had ever felt before. It was too much pain after too much horror, and Celebrían couldn't will herself to stay silent. She wouldn't have been able to even if she had been perfectly unharmed to begin with. Celebrían finally opened her mouth and released a bloodcurdling scream…then another…and another. They were cries of pure agony as she writhed helplessly on the ground, trying to escape the pain. But the pain never relented, and the orcs cackled happily at their success.

ooOOoo

The Elf twins urged their horses faster towards the sound of newer, more frantic and distinctly female screams.

ooOOoo

Celebrían's back had arched unnaturally backwards as her arms and legs trembled uncontrollably. Her vocal chords had been so used that she could only crackle out hoarse moans of agony. Her eyes were squeezed shut as if she could avoid the pain by not looking at the arrow that the orcs had neglected to remove. She could taste blood in her mouth from where she had bitten down on her cheeks and tongue, but the pain from the arrow blotted out any pain she had inflicted on herself.

Then Celebrían's body slammed back into the earth, her back too weak to arch upwards once more. Gradually, her trembling limbs slowed. Her breathing became labored as her moans quieted to small whimpers. With a final, choking sigh, Celebrían finally gave up. She slipped away from consciousness, and her body shuddered once before finally becoming still. The beautiful, beloved mate of Elrond lay immobile on the ground, her golden hair matted with dirt and blood, and her skin mottled underneath the surface with grey streaks of poison. The orcs surrounding her cheered gleefully at her demise, reveling in their success in breaking the she-elf's will.

The one-eyed orc had never felt better. His greatest rival had been eaten alive, and now he had been given control of the entire group of orcs. He would become their unchallenged leader, and the fact that the orcs had gotten the she-elf to scream through a plan of his own making made him all the more smug.

He had only just begun to bask in his success, however, when he heard a strange sound in the distance, not unlike the galloping of horses' hooves. The orc immediately dismissed this notion as nonsense, for no creature in its right mind would come through the Redhorn Pass at a full gallop. Just to be safe though, the one-eyed orc turned to his new brethren, sneered his best grimace, and shrieked, "Come on boys, time to move on!"

He walked towards the still body of the she-elf, dead at last, and ripped the arrow out of her body. She didn't even twitch. Raising the arrow above his head in triumph, the orc faced his new clan. The other orcs cowered away from him in fear, as they should, thought the one-eyed orc happily. Too late, he realized that they weren't looking at him though, but behind him.

"What-" he started to speak as he turned around…and was swiftly beheaded by an Elf on horseback.

The two Elves, identical to each other, proceeded to charge into the group of orcs, slashing, stomping and killing the vile creatures left and right. One of them jumped gracefully off his horse, one long dagger in each hand, and proceeded to destroy the orcs on the ground with vengeance. The other rode his horse around the clearing and made sure no orc escaped the slaughter. The carnage was completed as quickly as the Elves had appeared, and the echoes of the orcs' dying shrieks soon faded into distant memory.

The Elf on foot gazed around the clearing before he gave an anguished shout and ran to a figure lying in the grass a few yards away from the dead orcs. The other Elf swiftly dismounted and followed at a run.

"Naneth!" sobbed the first Elf as he tenderly cradled Celebrían's head and shoulders to his chest. Mother.

"No!" the other Elf cried, and ran to Celebrían. He fell to his knees in front of his brother, staring at his mother's broken body before gently picking up Celebrían's still hand and bringing it up to his tear-streaked cheek. "Naneth! No!"

The two Elves cried by Celebrían's body as their horses walked up to their own fallen comrade, Anaron, nuzzling his head and neck in sorrow.

Tears falling freely from both of the Elves' faces, the twin holding his mother's hand glanced down at it. She was still warm, as if they had arrived mere moments too late…A sudden thought occurred to him then, a possibility that he dared not hope for. Carefully, fearing the worst, the Elf gently probed his fingers down his mother's wrist in search of a pulse. Nothing at first…but then he felt a faint, quick movement of blood pulsing weakly in her veins over and over, and his own heart sped up in excitement.

"Elrohir," whispered the Elf frantically in Elvish, "she's alive!"

Elrohir, glancing at his brother with incredulous hope, quickly but gently took Celebrían's other hand. He gave a sharp intake of breath at the sight of blood still trickling out of a large wound on the underside of her wrist. "They cut her!"

Moving to her neck, Elrohir gently brushed aside Celebrían's golden hair, dark with dirt and blood, and pressed his fingers to the side of her throat. He let out an excited breath.

"You're right Elladan, she's still alive. We have to get her-"

"-to Father. He's the only one who can save her."

"He will save her," Elrohir muttered under his breath.

"I'll take her; you go on ahead and warn Father," said Elladan.

"And leave you alone? Not likely. Not after what's just happened to Mother," Elrohir argued, "No, we go together. Besides, Father must know something's wrong. He's the one who sent us."

"Fine, but let me take her. I've always been the gentler one," Elladan replied.

Rolling his eyes but reluctant to waste time arguing, Elrohir gently lifted Celebrían off of the ground, holding her in his arms as if she weighed nothing at all. Elladan strode over to his horse, murmured words of sympathy to him over Anaron, and mounted. He then reached out to his brother for Celebrían. With the utmost care, Elrohir passed Celebrían to Elladan, who settled her carefully in front of him, holding one hand on his horse's reins and the other around Celebrían to keep her securely on the horse.

Whispering words in Elvish to make his horse understand the need for haste and smooth riding, Elladan turned his steed around and followed Elrohir out of the clearing, back towards the one place where Celebrían had a chance of survival: Rivendell.

ooOOoo

Celebrían was floating in the clouds, hovering above a black abyss. She was being drawn closer and closer to the dark chasm before her, and had finally resigned herself to leave the clouds for the blackness that called to her when suddenly, her beloved Elrond's face appeared before her. She hesitated, teetering between light and darkness. Her mate's face looked tired and strained, but his voice was strong as he began to speak to her.

"Celebrían, my love. Do not give up. Do you understand? Do not give up. Do not give in to the darkness. Come back, Celebrían. Come back to where you belong. Do not leave us. Come back to us. Stay with me. Look at me, love. That's it. Do not leave me now."

Celebrían struggled, fighting with all her might to follow Elrond away from the abyss that called to her. Her mate murmured words of encouragement to her the entire way, and she clung to the sound of his voice, a true lifeline, until exhaustion overwhelmed her and she saw and heard no more.

ooOOoo

Celebrían opened her eyes, blinking at the overwhelming brightness. Slowly, objects began to emerge as her eyes adjusted to the light. She was lying on a comfortable and familiar bed, with her arms lying on top of soft, white sheets that had been drawn over her torso. Wincing at a lingering twinge of pain in her wrist and the left side of her chest, just below her collarbone, Celebrían lifted her head off the pillow and fought back an ensuing wave of dizziness, closing her eyes. When her spinning head cleared, Celebrían opened her eyes again and glanced down at her right hand. She noticed her wrist had been wrapped in white bandages, and her hand was being held between two strong, gentle hands as familiar to Celebrían as her own. She raised her eyes to meet those of Lord Elrond's, who was gazing into her face with tears in his eyes.

The effort to raise her head had already drained her energy, and Celebrían sank her head back onto her pillow in relief, closing her eyes once more.

"Is this a dream?" she murmured.

"I wish it was," replied the soothing, deep voice of her lover, although he sounded anguished, as if he were in pain, "So I would not be looking at the weakened state of my beloved's body, beaten and tortured. So I could imagine away the panic and despair I have felt over the last few days."

His voice changed, growing more angry and cold, but also tinged with hurt.

"So I would not have to wonder why my love chose to leave me when she was most vulnerable, to go gallivanting off to the Misty Mountains to fall straight into the hands of bloodthirsty orcs."

Elrond suddenly let go of Celebrían, and she opened her eyes quickly to see him stand up and walk over to the balcony of their bedroom. He was wearing robes of forest brown embroidered with intricate golden patterns woven throughout. His hair was pinned as it usually was, with two strands looped intricately in front of his pointed ears. As his hands rested on the balcony railing, his Ring of Power, Vilya, gleamed in the evening light. He looked more tired and weary than the last time she had seen him, what seemed like a lifetime ago, when she had bid him goodbye to begin her terrible journey.

"I would not ask for your forgiveness," Celebrían whispered, knowing Elrond would be able to hear her. "For I cannot forgive myself."

"I do not ask for your forgiveness, Celebrían," Elrond responded, still not facing her. "But I would ask why you would choose to risk your life, to risk our child's life, with such careless abandon. Did I so offend you in any way?"

"Never." Celebrían closed her eyes, fighting back tears.

After a moment's silence, she summoned the courage to ask, "You know about-?"

"Of course I know!" Elrond spun around to face her. "I've spent the last five days beating back the poison from every part of your body. Don't think the child was spared!"

Celebrían had never, in the thousands of years she had been married to Elrond, heard him as angry and distraught as she did now. She wanted to soothe him, to do whatever it took to appease him, especially since he was right to be angry and question her so. Everything that had happened was entirely her fault.

"I was stupid, beyond foolish," she began, "I wanted to tell my parents first. They had been so upset when they learned about Arwen a century after she was born. I wanted to make it up to them."

The tears that had threatened earlier finally fell from Celebrían's eyes. "I was so, incredibly stupid to travel so lightly. I thought two guards would be more than enough, but I lost them to nature even before the orcs arrived. You should leave me, Elrond, and marry another more deserving of you, for I have caused you so much pain and sorrow, unrightfully so, and I can never make it up to you."

Elrond sighed, his body slumping in defeat as the tense anger in his stance slowly dissipated. He then crossed back to Celebrían and knelt by her bed, once again taking her hands in his.

"Nay, Celebrían, my love. You have given me greater joy than anything or anyone else I have encountered in this world in all my years. And I promise I won't leave you, not now and not ever. Forgive me, love, I did not mean to make you cry. Besides, I can never stay angry with you," Elrond said, the corners of his lips quirking ever so slightly upwards. He gently wiped the tears away from Celebrían's face with his thumb.

"And things can still be made right again, Celebrían…The child is still alive."

Celebrían breathed in sharply, looking up into Elrond's face with renewed hope and love in her eyes. She squeezed Elrond's hands gently, and he returned the squeeze with a hesitant smile. The two stayed like that, enjoying peace and hope and contentment, until well after the sun had dipped below the horizon and pitched the world into the darkness of night.

ooOOoo

Celebrían was perched comfortably in one of her favorite places, a nook created by the trunk of a tree and one of its large branches, in the forest surrounding Rivendell. Her child was nearly due, and she should have been happy and excited for the new arrival. But all she felt was turmoil. She should have delighted in hearing the birds singing through the trees of Rivendell, just as she had adored them before, but all she could hear now were the shrieks and cackles of the orcs as they beat her. The sunlight shining through the forest would have made her happy and content not long ago, but now all she could feel was the terror of gazing up into the sun and seeing its light reflected in the shiny black poison that dripped from an arrow pointing at her heart.

She couldn't be at peace after what had happened to her, no matter how hard she tried. Celebrían startled at the slightest rustle and fought back nightmares of being lost in the darkness of her conscience. Most nights, she would wake up screaming and sobbing, and even Elrond's gentle embrace and soothing words could not calm her immediately. Her beloved family could not give her the feeling of safety and contentment she had once shared with them before.

After nearly a year since the incident, Celebrían, as she pondered these thoughts in her favorite tree, was forced to come to the conclusion that she could no longer live happily in Middle Earth, no matter how hard she tried. And as such, it was time for her to leave. Celebrían had a sudden, unwavering urge to depart this land for the one place where she was certain she could find peace again. She felt the tug of a distant land calling to her, and she had no choice but to follow. Celebrían needed to sail for the Undying Lands and leave behind Middle Earth and all the creatures that inhabited it, from those that caused her pain to those whom she loved above all else.

Resting her head against the trunk of the tree, Celebrían thought about everything she loved that she would have to leave behind forever if she left, and she allowed tears to roll down her cheeks, tears that she allowed no one else to see. But Valinor called to her, and she could not ignore the call.

The next day, a trumpet fanfare announced the arrival of a grand procession. Celebrían, dressed in a dark green gown that snugly curved around her pregnant belly, stood arm in arm with Elrond, who wore complimentary grey robes laced with the same dark green color. Beside Celebrían, Arwen Undomiel stood regally in a form fitting gown of pale green, while Elladan and Elrohir wore dark grey tunics with pale green sashes as they stood to Elrond's other side. The family's formality soon relaxed as Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel, leading the procession, entered through Rivendell's main gate.

"Mother, Father," Celebrían said with a serene smile as she let go of Elrond and stepped forward to embrace her parents.

"Celebrían, look at you! Soon to be a mother to a fourth," Celeborn sighed happily.

Celebrían's mother was more reserved, though. The glance she gave her daughter seemed blissful and loving, but her eyes bore into Celebrían's mind, and soon Celebrían could hear her mother's words in her head. After the child is born, Celebrían, you will have seven days. That is when the ship will arrive to take you to Valinor.

Celebrían, unsurprised that her mother knew of her plan, answered in the same manner. So soon? I will not know my child, and neither will the child remember me.

It must be then, Celebrían, and no later, or the ship will sail without you and you will be unable to leave.

Part of me wishes not to go though, Mother. How can I leave them all? How can I leave you or Father or Elrond? Is this really the right path?

Yes, dear one, I'm afraid it is. You will be sorely missed, but your time in Middle Earth is over.

Celebrían's heart sank at the confirmation that she would truly be leaving, and especially at how soon she would have to depart. But Galadriel spoke again to her mind, comforting her.

Do not grieve too much, my daughter, for we will be together again, at the end of all things.

Before Celebrían could ask her mother what she meant, Galadriel broke the connection and turned to greet Elrond and her grandchildren. Celebrían stood off to the side, gazing into space as she thought about the meaning of her mother's words, until Elrond gently took her arm and led her into the dining hall.

Celeborn and Galadriel had planned to stay for the birth of the new child, although only Galadriel and Celebrían knew that the family would then travel to the Grey Havens, where the ship would be waiting to take Celebrían away from Middle Earth and back to Valinor.

The family did not have to wait long for the birth. Only two weeks after her parents had arrived in Rivendell, Celebrían was confined to bed and her pains began. Elrond was one of the best Elvish healers in all of Middle Earth, but Elvish custom prevented him from assisting Celebrían, as birth was a process for women only. Instead, he paced anxiously outside the door, much to the laughter of his sons, as Arwen and Galadriel stayed inside the bedchamber to help Celebrían.

But when Celebrían began to cry out in pain, even Elladan and Elrohir couldn't sit still.

"Come now, Elladan, you're as pale as Father!"

"And you're not?"

"I didn't say that. But you are, without a doubt, making everything that much worse."

"I, Elrohir, I? You are the one who is making everyone all the more tense."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Oh, shut up! Someday, Elrohir, you will find yourself on the ground with none other than my sword through your gut," cried Elladan in exasperation.

"I'm charmed that you care so much."

"Enough!" Elrond snapped at both his sons as another of Celebrían's cries split through the air. Everyone winced and Elrond even seemed to waver on his feet.

"Here, Father, sit down," murmured Elladan, guiding his father over to a chair beside Celeborn, whose face was impossible to read. Elrond sat reluctantly, waving off his son and pinching the bridge of his nose with his other hand. Another cry, this one louder than before, burst from the chamber, causing Elrond to wince.

"You know, Elladan, I will take you up on that generous offer," said Elrohir, unable to stay seated in the hall.

"What are you talking about, Elrohir?"

"I've always wanted to see you try to stick your sword in my gut."

Glancing at his father, who didn't even look up, Elladan marched out of the hall with Elrohir on his heels.

In the courtyard outside, the twins sparred with each other. Their movements were graceful and perfectly attuned to each other, as if they were performing an intricate dance. The fighting helped lessen both of their nerves, although they still tensed at every shriek they heard from their parents' bedchamber.

Right after a particularly gut-wrenching scream, Elrohir winced and ducked beneath Elladan's sword before lunging at him. Elladan easily parried.

"You know, dear brother, I am eternally grateful to be of the male gender," said Elrohir.

"I am not having this conversation with you, Elrohir."

Elladan increased the speed of their fighting, forcing Elrohir to stop talking and concentrate on avoiding his brother's blows. Elladan suddenly lunged at Elrohir, but at that moment, their mother gave another earsplitting scream. Silence ensued, in which Elladan was still lunging at Elrohir, but both were not paying attention to their mock fight.

Then, at last, the cry of a baby could be heard from the chamber. Elrohir gave a sigh of relief and relaxed from his sidestep away from Elladan's sword. Elladan cried out, but neither could stop the inevitable. Elladan's sword grazed Elrohir's shoulder before Elladan could check his lunge.

"By the Valar, Elladan, you are out for blood," Elrohir gasped in mock pain as he held his shoulder.

"Forgive me," Elladan said meekly, but he was already bounding up the steps back into the hall.

"Hey!" shouted Elrohir indignantly, running after his brother.

They reached Elrond just as he was about to enter the bedroom chamber with Celeborn on his heels. One hand already on the doorknob, Elrond glanced over at his sons, his eyes narrowing at the hand Elrohir was clutching his shoulder with. Blood had begun to seep out from between his fingers, staining the baggy white shirt he had been wearing underneath a tight black hunting vest.

"What happened to you?" Elrond asked, annoyance clear in his voice.

"Well-" Elladan began sheepishly.

"No big deal, Father," Elrohir quickly interrupted, gesturing with his bloody hand to the closed door before clapping it back over his wounded arm. "Hurry and open the door, Father. I for one want to see the new baby!"

Elrond's attention swiftly went back to the chamber as all four of them burst in. Arwen was standing over her mother, wiping sweat off Celebrían's brow while two Elf maids were cleaning up the bloodied linens. Elrohir winced at the sight. Galadriel was off to the side, even more radiant than usual, as she held a small bundle wrapped in white linen gently in her arms. Elrond immediately went to help Arwen tend to Celebrían, but Elladan and Elrohir went to see the new arrival in their grandmother's arms.

"You have a new sister," whispered Galadriel happily as the twins leaned over each of her shoulders for a better look. For once, both of the twins were speechless.

The baby was still newborn pink, but her eyes were already open and curious, and the brothers could tell she would rival Arwen for beauty one day. The most intriguing part of the baby though, was her hair. Out of all of Elrond's children, this newest child was the only one who had inherited her mother's light colored hair. But while both Celebrían and Galadriel had golden hair, this baby had blonde hair tinged ever so slightly with a bright silvery color. She was a true daughter of Celebrían, whose name in the Elvish language of Sindarin meant "silver queen."

As Elladan and Elrohir ogled at their newest sibling, their father was gently conferring with Celebrían.

"Arwen, why don't you go look at your new little sister?" asked Celebrían quietly. Arwen, however, did not have any wish to see the baby. In her eyes, the new baby was responsible for the attack on her mother that had left Celebrían scarred and different from the woman Arwen had known before. But, sensing her mother wished to be alone with her father, Arwen nodded her head and left the pair to join her grandfather, who was waiting patiently behind the twins for his turn to look at the baby.

Elrond gently brushed a wayward lock of hair back from Celebrían's face, then took her hands in his.

"You are by far the bravest and strongest woman ever to grace this earth," he murmured to his wife as he touched his lips to her hand.

"Elrond," Celebrían whispered with a tired smile. After a peaceful silence, in which both basked in the glory of new parenthood, Celebrían finally whispered, "I think we should name her Celedë, after my father…and myself."

"Of course," Elrond replied, "I cannot think of any name more suitable. We shall love her and raise her together, just as we did with the others."

The happiness in his voice tore at Celebrían's heart. She glanced at her mother. Galadriel made eye contact with Celebrían before giving a slow nod of her head.

"Elrond, my beloved," Celebrían began, "You must know by now. I am not the same person I was before I left on my ill-fated journey to Lothlórien."

Elrond made a movement to say something, but Celebrían stopped him with a finger to his lips.

"I'm not happy anymore here, my love, and I'm afraid that-" she hesitated for a moment, taking a steadying breath, "-my time in Middle Earth is over. As we speak, a ship is coming to the Grey Havens to take me to the Undying Lands. I will be there to board it and depart from this land in seven days."

Elrond's reaction was intense and immediate. He gasped in shock and pain, his entire body stiffening as though ice-cold water had been thrown on him.

"You…you can't leave me," Elrond stammered. Though he knew in his heart that Celebrían had not loved and laughed like she had before her attack, and that her words, deep down, were true, his mind could not comprehend a life without his beloved. Celebrían gave him a wan smile, tears coming to her eyes.

"You will have me, in our children and here," she said softly, putting a hand over Elrond's heart. "And it won't be forever, Elrond. You will sail to Valinor as well, my mother tells me, and we will be together again, after the end of all things."

"Elrond," came a sympathetic, musical voice from behind them, "I think it's time you came to look at your new daughter."

Galadriel placed the baby in Elrond's arms, watching him carefully to make sure he wouldn't drop the baby in his shock, before ushering everyone else out of the room.

"I will tell you what has come to pass outside," she said to Celeborn and her other grandchildren, "But for now, they need this time alone."

Elrond's first glimpse at his new daughter was blurred by his tears. He had been so happy to have another child, but now he realized he had been given her at the steep price of his mate. He couldn't be angry with the child though; she was a part of him and a part of Celebrían, born from their deep love for each other.

"She looks like you," he finally choked out, "So beautiful. And her hair…it's almost silver."

Now Celebrían was crying too, but she managed to whisper, "I have the utmost faith in you to raise her like we did the others."

She smoothed back the hair from Elrond's face and kissed his brow, and then the pair cried into each other in a futile attempt to lessen the pain and loss of being separated for only the Vala knew how long.

ooOOoo

Arwen was numb with shock, and from the slack expressions of her brothers, she saw that her brothers were just as stunned. It made her hate the new arrival even more. Not only had this baby been the sole reason for the dramatic change in Celebrían, but the little one was now responsible for tearing their mother away from a family that had already been so happy.

"Arwen," she heard her grandmother whisper to her. She looked up, so numb and angry that she couldn't even cry.

Galadriel's voice rang out in her head. Do not blame your sister, for this is the way of things. It is no one's fault. No one can cheat fate or, otherwise, create a future that had not been there before.

"No, it's not fate. This never would have happened if it hadn't been for her. I refuse to believe this is the 'way of things'!" Arwen replied furiously as she ran from the hall to her own bedchambers. With an angry shout, she unsheathed a dagger from the numerous weapons she stored in one of her cabinets and proceeded to stab at her bed vigorously. The mattress, the pillows, the sheets, nothing was spared as Arwen hacked into them with enraged vigor. When her bed was a mess of feathers and ripped cloth, she hesitated mid-stab, staring at the carnage she had wrought, before dropping the dagger and slumping beside her bed, her eyes unfocused and uncomprehending. Still, she could not weep.

Elrohir reached out and squeezed Elladan's hand. This brought a twinge of pain to his arm, pain stemming from a cut that seemed to have been made a lifetime ago.

"Here, let me," came Celeborn's voice as he kneeled beside Elrohir and gently took his wounded arm. Celeborn's voice had wavered, but his hands were perfectly steady as he tended to Elrohir, pouring a strong smelling liquid over the cut. The pain was fierce as the wound was cleaned, but Elrohir welcomed it and would have preferred it over the pain he felt in his heart. Celeborn gently but firmly bandaged the cut, and retreated back to Galadriel's side as Elrohir numbly murmured words of thanks. Unbeknownst to the twins, Galadriel and Celeborn silently left the room then, to leave the brothers to grieve alone and to mourn the loss of their only daughter by themselves as well. The twins were silent in the hall, each caught up in his own misery.

"After everything we did, Elrohir," Elladan finally broke the silence, "after saving her and healing her and everything…was it really all for naught?"

"Nay, Elladan," said Elrohir, "We gave her a second chance at life. It may not have been the life we would have wished to share with her-" Elrohir's voice caught and he fought back tears, "but we saved her life. And we want her to be happy, do we not?"

"Aye, Elrohir," muttered Elladan, "but not this way. Not this way."

And then Elrohir and Elladan, the brave sons of Elrond, collapsed into each other's arms, uncaring of how improper such an act might have been, and cried until the day of Celedë's birth came to an end.

Seven days later…

The procession had at long last reached the final destination that none of its party truly wanted to arrive at. The sun had just begun to set over the horizon, and the waves of the port of Mithlond seemed to be made of gold as they beckoned incessantly towards the sea. Celebrían dismounted from the pure white horse she had ridden and felt the pain of Anaron's death anew. In a strange and sad sort of way, this feeling of grief brought Celebrían comfort to know that she was making the right choice to leave.

Celebrían was dressed in a sparkling silver gown with a lacy silver headpiece that brought out the brilliance of her golden hair, which shined like starlight under the rays of the evening sun. Elrond dismounted beside her, his robes a dark, nearly black, grey. Galadriel and Celebrían stepped out of the carriage they had opted to take instead of horseback, with tiny Celedë nestled in a blanket of white linen in her grandmother's arms. As one, the entire procession seemed to give an inaudible sigh at the sight of a magnificent and heartbreakingly beautiful ship waiting at the dock.

"And so my time in Middle Earth ends," Celebrían whispered to no one in particular, "at the shores of the sea."

Slowly, painstakingly, each member of the family followed Celebrían's lead as she proceeded down the docks to the harbor. There was no one on board the ship, for the magic embedded in the wood by the Vala was sure to bring their child back to them without the need for guidance.

At the dock, Celebrían finally stopped and turned to face her family for one final goodbye. Galadriel handed Celedë, who was fast asleep, to Elrond as she and Celeborn stepped forth for a last embrace with their daughter. Tears welled in Celebrían's eyes as she wrapped her arms around her parents for the last time. Celeborn looked close to tears as well, but Galadriel's glance at her daughter was one of compassion and hope.

This isn't the end, dear one. We will see you again. Only the Vala know when that will be, but take heart that there will come such a time. I know it in my heart.

When Galadriel and Celeborn stepped away, Celebrían turned to the rest of her family. In that moment, she was given a sudden vision, not an image but more of a feeling, that there was one family member amongst the party whom she would never see again. Without a doubt, although she didn't know how she knew, Celebrían realized that this would be the last time she would ever see one of her beloved daughters, and the new realization made Celebrían feel as if her heart was tearing itself apart. She uttered a choked gasp of grief, but refused to cry about her decision anymore. She had made her choice.

"My sons," Celebrían whispered as she stepped towards them, and they to her, "My strong, handsome sons."

"Naneth," they whispered in unison, as they had a tendency to do, "We wish it could have been otherwise."

"I know, dear ones, but the path has been set and we must follow it to the end."

"I will see you again, Naneth," whispered Elladan, fighting back tears. "This isn't truly good-bye."

"More like 'until we meet again'," Elrohir elaborated, sniffling.

"Of course," Celebrían murmured back, releasing her sons. She took heart that their words were true: she would see them again, just not one of her daughters.

Arwen was next. She hugged her mother tightly, but still refused to cry.

"I know you are bitter, love, but don't let your anger detract from our farewell," Celebrían said to Arwen.

"I am not. I will not be anything but sorrowful at this moment, but you cannot ask me to not be angry afterwards."

"Maybe not right after, but in time, I do ask that you accept your sister. She is not at fault for the way things have turned out. The fault is all mine."

"Nothing's your fault," Arwen muttered to her mother, who smiled, tears in her eyes as she considered that this could be the last time she embraced her eldest daughter. Mother and daughter held each other for a long moment. When they finally released each other, Arwen stepped back to make way for Elrond with her head down, refusing to meet her mother's eyes again.

"After so many years, Elrond," Celebrían began, "My love for you has never wavered."

"You will always have my heart," Elrond murmured back. He did not try to stem the flow of tears down his cheeks. One of them landed on Celedë's cheek and she stirred in his arms, causing them both to look down at their daughter.

"My precious little one," Celebrían took Celedë gently from Elrond, and held her close. "I know you won't remember me, but I will never forget you."

Celedë snuggled closer to Celebrían as she talked and finally opened her eyes. They were a startling blue, the same bright blue of Elrond's eyes. Mother and daughter stared at each other, as if memorizing each others' faces, until Elrond moved and embraced them both. Then he gently took Celedë back from Celebrían, almost hastily, as if he were afraid Celebrían would take their infant daughter away too.

Celebrían smiled at Elrond's protectiveness, then reached up and wiped away his tears away with her thumb.

"We will be together forever, Elrond. This I have seen." Celebrían gazed into his brilliant blue eyes and spoke to his mind, so that only he could hear her next words. But I must warn you that in my wandering mind, I see that one of our daughters will never voyage across the sea. It will be her choice to stay, but promise me that her choice will be a worthy one.

"Of course, beloved," Elrond whispered aloud, his attention fixed solely on Celebrían, "Le melon." I love you.

Then he leaned in close, and Celebrían and Elrond shared their last kiss on Middle Earth. It was long and sweet, and when they finally pulled away from each other, Celebrían's heart felt light with love and heavy with grief at the same time.

Celebrían smiled and gazed around at her loving family before turning away from them and walking to the ship. There was a plank already in place for her to walk onto the ship, and Celebrían was careful to remember every last feeling of the ground beneath her, for she would never walk on it again. She finally boarded the ship and pulled the board onto it, and the ship immediately began to move out of the harbor. Facing the shore, Celebrían solemnly raised a hand to her family and smiled through more tears. They raised their hands back to her in unison.

"Namárië," Celebrían called to her family, the setting sun casting both her and the ship in a brilliant golden glow. Farewell.

As the ship became more and more distant, Arwen slowly stepped forward, drawn to the edge of the dock, and reached out to the ship as if she could pull it back to shore. Then she sank slowly to her knees by the edge of the water. Her shoulders began to shake with unrepressed sobs, and tears filled her eyes before spilling incessantly down her cheeks. Arwen finally let go of her anger and allowed grief to fill her heart, replacing the bitterness. At last, she allowed herself to cry. Her anguish was heard by little Celedë in their father's arms, and the baby opened her tiny mouth as well, wailing for their departed mother, Celebrían, the Lady of Lothlórien and Lady of Rivendell.