Sailor to the Grey Havens - Sequel to "Mother of the Evenstar," part three

"Father?" Elrond turned at his daughter's voice. "You've watched that road ever since Mother left." Arwen was hesitant about speaking so to her father, but it was true.

Elrond sighed. "Thank you, Arwen." He smiled sadly. "I had not realized it." Arwen smiled back and left.

Elrond rubbed his forehead. Celebrian had been gone too long. She had promised to write when she got to Lothlorien, but he should have gotten her letter days ago. Had something happened?

"I should never have let her go," Elrond muttered, his heart sore at the thought of Celebrian in trouble. He closed his eyes. He was descended from Luthien and, through her, Melian the Maia. Perhaps, if he tried hard enough, he could see Celebrian and know what was happening to her.

At first he saw nothing, only blackness. Elrond gritted his teeth, willing himself to see her. Then the blackness turned to fog. He tried to reach with his mind, to push the fog away and see. The fog drifted and vanished, and he could see...

A grassy valley. A party of ten guards and a woman..."Celebrian!" he murmured, watching her intently as she tossed a wafer of lembas to the guard beside her, then took one for herself. He watched as an arrow thudded into the ground beside Celebrian, as she drew her short sword. She killed an Orc with a few expert moves.

The vision moved away, to a riverbank, floating amidst the memories of time..."No!" Elrond muttered, forcing his mind back to Celebrian.

She turned as an arrow pierced one of her guards. Elrond could see, as Celebrian had not, the Orc that came up behind her, sword out, that thrust the blade into her shoulder as she tried to withdraw her weapon. He could not hear her, but the pain was evident in her face as she fell. Then her face went blank.

More images...a cavern...darkness...Celebrian, face bruised, lying on stone...Orcs gloating over her...

"No!" Elrond jerked out of his vision. He did not realize that tears were streaming down his face like a flood. "No! NO!" He threw the door open and raced down the corridors to the weapons room.

Elrond burst into his son's practice room, causing Elladan and Elrohir to look up from their practice sparring. "Father!" Elrohir gasped. "What's wrong?"

"Celebrian has been captured by Orcs." Elrond's voice was barely audible, but there was palpable pain and cold fury in it. He wished he were younger, that Rivendell did not need him to govern it, so he could go rescue her, but he was growing too old. "I cannot save her." The tears flowed faster with this admission. "But you can."

Elladan, his face hard in anger, sheathed his sword. "Tell us what to do."

Elrond told them where she had been waylaid, where she probably was, how many Orcs they could expect to be there. All he could tell them or do for them, he did. Finally Elrond hugged them both, before they left to get a rescue party together. "Valar bless," he whispered. "Bring her back to me."

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