To Dream – Ch36: And They Lived

by May 24, 2004Stories

Names/Pronunciations/Miscellaneous will come at the end of each chapter.

‘*’ signals a footnote

Chapter 36.) And They Lived

Out of doubt, out of dark to the day’s rising…
To hope’s end I rode and to heart’s breaking
– J. R. R. Tolkien

Kallindo dismounted his horse and looked around in a disoriented fashion. He was still unsure of why he had been chosen to come on this uncomfortable expedition. The last place he wanted to be riding toward was Minas Tirith. Given the choice, he would have gladly trudged through the Midgewater Marshes if it meant avoiding the duty of accompanying Elrond and his family to the nuptials of Arwen Evenstar, and in all likelihood, to those of Elladan as well.

Rubbing the back of his neck helplessly he cast a sidelong glance at his horse before slowly shaking his head. The Lady often did many mysterious things, and Kallindo had an ever-increasing suspicion that he had been selected specifically for this duty and that she knew something she wasn’t telling him.

As if on cue, Kallindo felt a gentle calling in his mind. He looked up and saw an airy tent being erected in the dusky light of evening. Lady Galadriel stood nearby, stroking the silken neck of her white steed, her eyes trailing along the ground until they rose up to meet his own. She smiled kindly.

With resigned steps, Kallindo made his way toward the Lady and fell into step beside her as she began to stroll away from the main group of the company.

//You gave my grandson a cold welcome when he arrived upon our borders. Why?//

Kallindo weighed his words carefully, but soon realized the absurdity of this effort when speaking with the Lady of Light, who could read the hearts and minds of all. He felt at a loss for words and did not want to discuss the issue. “Do you really have to ask, my lady?” was all he could think of to say. “I feel certain that you know what has passed between Oloriel and I.”

Galadriel laughed softly. “Ah, but do you know what has passed between you and her? You were right, Kallindo, I can weigh your heart, though I do not do so carelessly. Did you not determine in your heart that you would be content with Oloriel’s happiness? That you would release her from the dreams that you had prepared?”

Kallindo’s brow furrowed. “Aye, I did. And I hold to that intent. I do not harbor any more hopes where Oloriel is concerned and I wish her the best of all joys, but… but I-“

//You cannot forgive him so easily.// It was a statement, not a question. //You cannot help feeling anger towards the Elf that stole her away, is this not so?//

The Elf’s mouth suddenly went dry and he cast his eyes toward the ground. “Can you blame me?” he whispered morosely.

The Lady stopped and turned toward Kallindo, pinning him with her eyes. “Nay, I do not blame you. But I sorrow over your bitter resignation, over your surrender.” She peered deeper into his spirit and Kallindo felt a wave of shame flow over him. //You cannot forgive Oloriel while resenting her betrothed. Soon they will become one, and you will either endure, growing in compassion, or be consumed by a hatred of them both. You cannot be divided between the two.//

Kallindo stood frozen in his place as the Lady walked back toward her tent. He felt the sharp truth of her words cut into his heart. Looking back the way he had come, he saw Elladan sitting with his sister by a small fire. Could he forgive this Elf?


It took two more days of riding, and two more days of arguing with himself and warring in his spirit, but Kallindo finally felt like he had come to some sort of resolution. And so, with reluctance, he sought out the presence of Elladan one evening as the company camped along Anduin within easy sight of the Ered Nimrais””. He found the sons of Elrond speaking with each other at the edge of the encampment, there eyes intent on the southern horizon.

“Might I have a word with you, Lord Elladan?”

Elladan turned warily toward Kallindo but did not speak. For several moments he simply stared at the Elf, his jaw tightening in anticipation of an unpleasant encounter.

Elrohir cast his glance between the two tense Elves and felt saddened. He and Kallindo had come to a friendly understanding when he had visited Lothlórien last, and he felt somewhat torn in his allegience. Elladan would have his loyalty to the last, of course, but he would hate for these two noble Elves to solidify the animosity that was fermenting between them.

Having received no answer from Elladan, Kallindo simply began to speak, certain that he would sound foolish, but equally certain that what he was about to say needed to be said.

“I believe I owe you an apology, son of Elrond. Neither you nor Oloriel have sought out to injure me in any way and I should not have treated you as my enemy, though I trust that you, who love her as well, will be able to… sympathize with my actions.”

Elladan stared incredulously at the Elf before him. The reason he had not spoken before was because he was certain that he would say something worthy of remorse. He had also been fairly certain that whatever Kallindo had come to say to him would be provoking, to say the least, and that every ounce of his self-control would be needed. But now that Kallindo had spoken, Elladan felt rather deflated and bewildered.

“You are asking for my forgiveness?” Elladan knew that he didn’t sound particularly intelligent at the moment, but it was the best he could do.

Kallindo shifted uncomfortably and nodded, casting his glance quickly toward Elrohir and then back to Elladan. “I once told Oloriel that I released her from my expectations and that she should be yours. I determined in my heart that I would not bring her grief by shunning her or weighing her down with my anger. And I thought that this was enough. But I now realize that I was not quite ready to be so lenient with you, my lord. Your brother assured me that you were honorable and would take care of her, but as he also said, this is not much comfort in the end. I was angry with you for taking her away from me… but it was her choice and I should not condemn her, or you… however I may wish to.”

Elladan felt strangely humbled at that moment, feeling that, given the same circumstances, he could not have acted nearly so well as the Elf before him. A line of legendary forbears may have begotten him, but he doubted that his noble blood could ever have endowed him with such grace.

“You have my forgiveness then, if you so desire it.” Elladan bowed his head slightly. “But allow me also to beg pardon for any grief that I have caused you. A meaningless gesture, perhaps, but one that I sincerely make. For you have shown yourself to be a noble Elf, and it is a pity that you should be so thwarted.”

Kallindo smiled wryly. “Yes… a pity.”

After a few moments of silence, the Lothlórien Elf bowed stiffly to the two lords and departed. As the twins watched him retreat, an intriguing thought sprang into Elrohir’s mind. Not allowing himself to ponder on the idea too much, Elrohir left as well, making a short excuse to Elladan and setting off quickly to make up the ground that Kallindo had covered with determined strides.

Night blurs in one confusèd whole
Alike the dreamer and the dream.

– Richerd Hovey

Oloriel woke with a start and glanced quickly around the dimly lit room, eyes slightly unfocused. Flames did not yet dance upon the candles, but the long drapes at the window were pulled back to let in the last rays of the dying sun. She was bewildered for several moments as the illusions of her dream past away and reality took its hold once more on her mind.

She had dreamt of a cold tower, washed in the evening light, empty and longing for its inhabitants. Crawling ivy and barren thorns had grown upon the outer walls and wrapped tightly around the turrets, blocking out even the meager light of evening and casting the lofty room in which Oloriel had found herself into a slowly deepening darkness.

Strangely enough, despite the sense of confinement and suffocation that had crept over her then, Oloriel’s heart was not taken by any fear. Something in the breeze, which filtered through the dense wall of ivy, whispered that the time was near. She had tried to question the wind about what was coming, but it had simply laughed and continued to whisper its chorus: the time is near, the time is near.

On impulse, Oloriel had stepped up to one of the small windows of the chamber and tried to reach her hands through the ivy. Tugging and pulling and straining, she had finally been able to create a small opening through which she could just make out the winding road that led up to the tower gate. In the silence that followed her efforts, the sound of a gentle voice singing had reached her ears and for a moment she had imagined she saw a figure riding up the road. But before she could discern who it was, she had awoken.

As she sat on her bed, still partially entangled in the dream, she thought for a moment that she was still in the tower, waiting for the stranger to arrive. However, this illusion quickly faded and she remembered where she was: in the bedroom of her own small house near the citadel of Minas Tirith.

Smiling wryly, she threw the covers off with reluctance and stood up from her bed. She had not intended to fall asleep, but apparently she had been wearier than she believed. And yet, if this had been so, then why was she awake? She usually made a concerted effort to save her times of rest for when she knew Elladan would be asleep, for during his journey he did not seek the Path of Dreams as often as at other times. But her mind had obviously been in need of rest, and the mysterious rider had intrigued her.

Oloriel’s brow furrowed slightly as she put on a light cloak and stepped into the common room of the house. She peaked into Nessúl’s room but did not see the elleth, which was not surprising since, after all, the sun was not completely hidden from view.

It was as she turned to walk out the doorway that her vision blurred slightly and a faint dizziness overtook her. She steadied herself against a nearby chair and took a few deep breaths. As her vision cleared, she felt the familiar presence of Elladan in her mind and heard a few faint words of greeting. The company had come.

With a broad smile she dashed out of the doorway and toward the parapet surrounding the seventh level of the city. During their time apart, which was now more than a month, mental communication had become much more difficult between Elladan and herself, and so she was more than ready to have her betrothed near again.

Arriving at the ramparts, Oloriel cast her gaze outward to the Rammas Echor* and watched as the Elven company came through the repaired gates. Elladan and Elrohir road at the head of the company and looked very well to Oloriel’s eye. She yearned to run down the seven levels of the city and meet her beloved at the gates, but on the day that he had departed Elladan made her promise to wait for him in their garden. She sighed and let her hands rest against the cool stone of the low wall, deciding that she would at least watch his approach until the company entered the city and would then depart to wait for him beneath the two cherry trees.

As she stood watching the slow procession, Oloriel tried to reach out to Elladan in her mind, but there seemed to be something preventing her and she was rebuffed. Her brows furrowed deeply at this disappointment; could it be that their link was fading? She shook her head as if to banish the thought and turned her back on the wall. Elladan and Elrohir were very near the gates now, so she simply left to wait in the garden.

While sitting on the small bench, her heart fluttering in anticipation, a strange mood came upon Oloriel. As she sat in the garden, alone and silent in the violet light of evening, it almost seemed as if she were living yet another dream. The odd thought came to her that perhaps she had been dreaming all the time. What if, after she had first met Elladan, she had never woken up and this was just a beautiful vision waiting to be broken in the light of day? She shuddered and for a brief moment actually felt cold. Wrapping her cloak more tightly around herself, she leaned against one of the trees supporting the bench, while with all her might she tried to banish her melancholy thoughts. But it was a vain effort, for it was as if a heavy blanket had been thrown over her mind and every thought was slowed down and discouraged. For many minutes Oloriel simply sat, waiting to see if she truly would wake up.

But then the spell was broken. With a startling burst of reality, the soft sound of Elladan’s voice, caught up in some nameless song, came lilting to her on the wind. A burst of joy ran through Oloriel’s veins, and she leapt up from her seat just as her betrothed came through one of the small archways into the secluded garden. Without word, Oloriel ran into his arms and was drawn into an ardent kiss.

With delight, Oloriel settled her arms around Elladan’s neck and leaned into his kiss, as he, with equal enjoyment, welcomed her surrender, tightening his hold on her waist and pulling her snugly against him. A great many moments passed before Elladan finally broke the kiss and let go of her waist, only to cup her face with his hands and lay tender kisses on her forehead, eyelids, and cheeks.

“Come, melleth nín,” he whispered as he laid a final kiss on her mouth, “there are those who wish to meet you.” Without further ado Elladan stepped away and took hold of her hand, leading her eagerly back out into the main courtyard.

That evening Oloriel was introduced to Elladan’s father and sister. At first she had felt somewhat overwhelmed in their presence, Lord Elrond being one of the oldest Elves in Middle Earth, renowned for his wisdom, and Arwen, among all Elven maidens fair and graceful, being deemed equal in beauty to Lúthien Tinúviel herself. However, her reservations were soon put aside by the warm welcome which she received. Arwen began speaking with her in a very companionable way about the events of the past few months and about her brother and about both of their upcoming weddings. Elrond placed a gentle kiss on her brow and throughout the evening made it clearly known that, in his view, a prompt wedding was certainly in order. And Elladan’s grandparents, Oloriel’s Lord and Lady, also divested themselves of their regal forms and treated her not only with their usual kindness but also with a new familiarity and respect.

Oloriel, so overcome by the sincerity of their welcome felt a mist rise up in her eyes, for in one evening she suddenly found herself in possession of a family again – a joy that she had not experienced in many years. Elladan, though he still could not speak with her in thought, seemed to apprehend Oloriel’s emotions, turning her face silently towards him and wiping away the moisture that rimmed her eyes. “Don’t cry, melleth,” he soothed her, “This is a time for joy… no more tears.”

When Oloriel went to sleep for the second time that day it was with a smile on her face. For she knew, with joyful certainty, that this beautiful life was truly her own and not a dream at all.

what if a dawn of a doom of a dream
bites this universe in two?

– e. e. cummings

It was four days past midsummer and the city had finally calmed down from the flurry of festivity which had surrounded the marriage of King Elessar to Arwen Undómiel. But this was not the end of celebration for some. On the following day a significantly smaller gathering would witness the bonding ceremony of Elladan Peredhel and Oloriel of Lorien, making merry again in its wake.

To Elladan’s way of thinking the day could not come soon enough. But despite his impatience time meandered on at its usual, irritatingly slow pace and he had to remind himself daily that, as an immortal, he had all the time in the world.

The sun fell strongly on Elladan’s back as he mused on these things, while looking fondly across the green space to where Oloriel sat conversing with his grandfather by the fountain of the White Tree*. The two seemed to get along famously and it gladdened his heart to see it. Celeborn had always been a wise and gentle soul and Elladan often wondered why he and his wife had only fathered one child.

//Perhaps it was not his choice.//

Elladan’s thoughts were drawn back to the companion walking beside him – his grandmother.

She smiled, rather sadly. “I believed that the world was too grim to bring another child into the world. It is one of the decisions I most regret, for Celeborn does love young ones and was such a good father. But by the time I realized this, it seemed a little late to rekindle parenthood.”

Somewhat amazed by her openness, Elladan was unsure of what to say. His grandmother had never been one to regret what could not be changed. This knowledge made her confession even more sorrowful.

In order to alleviate the somber mood he replied jovially, “Well, you should know that it is never too late among the Eldar. Perhaps when you depart for Valinor you will find that the time is right. I certainly wouldn’t mind having an aunt or uncle several millennia younger than myself.”

Galadriel smiled merrily and paused to give Elladan a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, penneth {young one}, I’ll take your words into consideration.”

Smiling impudently, Elladan took her hand and drew her down to sit next him on one of the stone seats, which were carved into the outer wall.

“Do you have any sage words of advice for me on the eve of my wedding day, grandmother?”

“Never stop speaking with each other,” Galadriel replied promptly. “Silence is terrible.”

Elladan’s brow furrowed slightly. “Wise words from a beautiful lady… but that reminds me of something else… I have been meaning to speak to you about it, though I do not know if you will have any answers for me.”

Galadriel’s patient silence prompted him to continue.

“Oloriel and I still share our dreams, but we can no longer speak with one another in our minds. Sometimes I feel like I can still sense her thoughts or emotions, but it is very vague. Why should this be?”

Staring at a flower near her feet, Galadriel thought for a few moments before raising her eyes to meet Elladan’s gaze. “I should imagine that you no longer need the gift. You and Oloriel shared an unusual bond, and one that is not entirely without its disadvantages. It is, perhaps, possible to know too much… this has been true in my own life. The ability to see into the deepest parts of another’s soul is not always pleasant or helpful. Your gift has served its purpose, and now it fades.”

Elladan leaned forward, with his elbows on his legs and hands dangling. “But what purpose? I still don’t understand what this has all led up to. Why did it matter?”

Galadriel laughed softly. “Did not you see it, penneth. It is not so very hard to see.”

Elladan turned a puzzled countenance toward her and she smile, but then her expression softly faded into a somber gaze. “Halbarad… you saved him did you not, using your gift? And who did Halbarad save?”

Understanding sank into Elladan’s mind. “Estel, Halbarad saved Estel.”

Galadriel nodded. “And Estel rallied the armies of the West and led them to the Morannon, distracting the Enemy and allowing the Hobbits free passage through the Plateau of Gorgoroth.”

With wonderment, Elladan cast his gaze back across the garden to where Oloriel sat laughing besides his grandfather. She was dressed pragmatically in a simple white shift, with her hair pulled back in a single braid. She looked altogether harmless at that moment – hardly worthy of notice in the complex plans of mighty rulers and menacing powers. And yet she had, in her own way, thwarted the plans of the Dark One and saved the lands from the midst of shadow.

Elladan gave into the urge and laughed out loud. It was so simple, yet so unimaginable. The Valar were wise indeed if they could use Hobbits and unassuming maidens to carry out the great plan of the ages, while making all the wisdom of the world look foolish in the process.

Dreams of the summer night!
Tell her, her lover keeps
Watch! While in slumbers light
She sleeps!
My lady sleeps.

– Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Oloriel looked out the window with worried eyes. There were several dark clouds on the far eastern horizon and she hoped that the wind would not hurry them westward. Although, even if it were to rain, Oloriel felt that she would still speak her vows in the small garden. She loved the rain, and no harm would be done. Turning back to the bed she shook her head sadly. Or perhaps some harm would be done – if not to her, than to the dress.

Unbeknownst to Oloriel, Elrond had ordered a dress prepared before he had departed from Imladris, for he had apparently known that there would be more than one wedding. And there, on the bed before her, lay the product of his thoughtfulness. It was a flowing, willowy creation, all soft green silk and white chiffon. Oloriel could not wait for Elladan to see her in it, for it would be a drastic change from the breeches and tunic or the practical healers habit which were the only outfits he had ever seen her wear in the waking world.

After a few more minutes of quiet reflection, Nessúlë burst into the room, carrying a basket of flowers. She was already dressed in a simple ivory gown and had come to help Oloriel with her own costume and hair.

Setting the basket of flowers on the bed, Nessúlë pulled Oloriel away from the window and began to merrily disrobe her and assist with the wedding gown, chatting all the while.

“Will Elrohir speak for you then?” she questioned as she laced up the back of Oloriel’s gown.

“Yes, didn’t I tell you? I asked him before they left for Lothlórien. I have no male relatives here and he and I became such good friends when Elladan was feeling impudent just after our betrothal that he seemed the logical choice. I might have asked Nimfallë to do it, had we been married in Lothlórien, but that isn’t possible now.”

Nessúlë just nodded as she sat Oloriel down to fix her hair. “Pink or red flowers?” she asked.

Oloriel pursed her lips. “Pink. You should use the red.”

While Oloriel had chosen Elrohir to be her Guardian, the male who would question her suitor during the binding ceremony and weigh his worthiness, she had chosen Nessúlë to be her Herald, to welcome Elladan into his new family after he had sworn himself as Oloriel’s husband. Had Oloriel’s parents been there, or any other relatives, they would have taken on these parts. For Elladan the roles would be reversed. Arwen would be his Guardian, in lieu of his own mother, and his father would act as Herald.

As Oloriel sat before the mirror, being fussed over by Nessúlë, she went over her vows once more. The Elven vows were ancient and simple, consisting of three pledges. The first, I pledge to thee my life, concerned a commitment of actions. The second, I pledge to thee my heart in faithfulness, called for a commitment of love and emotions. And the final, I pledge to thee my soul, that it may be bound to thine own until the world is unmade, spoke of an eternal submission and oneness. Often added to these vows were words of conviction, telling why the Elf chose to pledge themselves in such a way. These were the words which Oloriel rehearsed in her mind, wanting them to be perfect and beautiful and worthy of remembrance.

Oloriel’s musing was interrupted as Elrohir knocked softly on her door. After she called out for him to enter, he strode in with his hands clasped behind his back and a sly grin on his face.

“What is that look for?” Oloriel gazed pointedly at his reflection in the mirror.

“Your friend, Írima, sent you something form Lothlórien which I believe you will be very pleased with.”

Oloriel cocked a suspicious eyebrow at him and almost turned around. However, the quick reprimand of Nessúlë, who was in the midst of twining Oloriel’s hair into a complex arrangements of braids, brought her back into place.

“Very well then, bring it here.” Oloriel tapped the vanity table with her index finger.

Elrohir obliged her, walking up behind her and setting a box on the table. Oloriel gasped. Picking it up quickly she threw upon the lid and found what she had expected: her mother’s leaf pendent. She beamed as Elrohir picked up the ends of the delicate chain and, reaching beneath Nessúlë hair-entangled hands, fastened it around her throat.

As she fingered the amulet with reverent hands she thought on her mother, hoping that she and adar were happy now, together in Valinor. And as she pondered her imminent wedding, Oloriel felt as though she glimpsed a clearer understanding of the bond that had held them close, and which refused to be separated by the wide sea.

The banter between Elrohir and Nessúlë brought her thoughts back to the present. Apparently the other elleth was pressing for more time to perfect Oloriel’s hair while Elrohir was insisting that they should depart in mere moments. With joyful anticipation Oloriel waved Nessúlë away from her hair.

“He is right, mellon. It is time.”


Celeborn looked fondly at Oloriel as she entered the garden through one of the archways before schooling his features into a more solemn expression. Elladan had arrived just moments before and stood facing Celeborn at a distance of several feet. Already assembled in the garden, and creating a circle around the two trees, were the Elves that had journeyed from Lothlórien and Imladris. The only Human present was Elessar.

Oloriel came to stand by Elladan’s right side, looking beautiful as a glorious spring morning. Elladan cast a quick glance toward her and caught his breath. This lovely creature standing beside him was to be his wife! With a dazed expression he brought his eyes back to Celeborn as the ancient Elf began the ceremony.

In a solemn voice Celeborn turned to Oloriel on his left and questioned, “Why do you come before this assembly?”

“To bind myself to this lord.” As she spoke she glanced up at Elladan, noting how fine he looked in his deep red tunic and silver circlet.

“And why so, what have you to give him?” Arwen stepped from the cluster of Elves and came to stand in front of Oloriel, her eyes clear and joyful.

Oloriel bowed her head in respect. “I have only my love and my life. I will give it freely.”

Arwen smiled and placed a soft hand against Oloriel’s cheek. “Speak then with my blessing, sister.” With these words she took her place behind Oloriel, as a sign of her support.

Next, Celeborn turned to his grandson and asked why he had come. Elladan replied simply, “To bind myself to this lady.”

It was now Elrohir’s duty to step forward and question his brother. Only, to the surprise of both Oloriel and Elladan, it was not Elrohir who stepped up to speak, but Kallindo.

The Lothlórien Elf addressed Celeborn first. “By the leave of Elrohir, the chosen kinsman, and because of my deep and lasting affection for this lady, I wish to speak.” After a quick glance at Oloriel, Celeborn nodded his assent.

With measured steps, Kallindo came to stand in front of Elladan. “Why do you come? What can you give her?”

Elladan bowed his head but spoke firmly. “My devotion, my love, and my life.”

“Will you protect her?”

“I will.”

Kallindo reached out and placed a hand on Elladan’s arm, causing him to meet his own gaze. With quiet intensity, he asked one last question: “Will you make her happy?”

A silent moment swung between the two Elves before Elladan reached his own hand out to grasp Kallindo’s shoulder. “I will strive to do so.”

“Do you swear it?”

“I swear it.” Elladan’s voice was soft but steady.

After a moment of heavy anticipation Kallindo nodded shortly and let go of Elladan’s shoulder, moving behind him. “Then speak… with my blessing.”

In spite of herself, Oloriel felt tears beginning to form in her eyes. She sought out Elrohir, who stood close at her side, and he smiled reassuringly as she captured his gaze. Oloriel returned his smile tremulously, touched and gladdened by his apparent meddling. Her thoughts were drawn back to the proceedings as Celeborn spoke once more. With haste she blinked the mist away from her eyes.

Lifting his hands up, the Lord of the Golden Wood pronounced firmly, “We who are assembled have heard the will of your hearts and so I do bid you now, Elladan, to take this lady’s hand in the sight of Eru and pledge yourself with honor.”

Elladan turned to Oloriel, feeling the overwhelming urge to sweep her up into his arms and carry her away. Her beauty took his breath away. The thought that she would soon be his wife was dizzying. In an attempt to steady himself, Elladan took hold of his beloved’s left hand with his right and squeezed it softly as he spoke his first vow.

“I pledge to thee my life, lady, for you once preserved my own and I would gladly give it up to protect you and to comfort you. Do you accept my pledge?”

Oloriel’s cheek flushed softly at the mention of her valor. “I do,” she replied softly.

“I pledge to thee my heart in faithfulness,” Elladan continued, “that it may always take delight in your presence and turn to no other. Do you accept my pledge?”

“I do.”

The brilliant light in his eyes was answered by Oloriel’s own as he spoke his final vow. “Then Oloriel, daughter of Alkarin and Maldalossë, I pledge to thee my soul, that it may be bound to thine own until the world is unmade. For I wish to be a part of you, and to carry your presence with me wherever I go. Do you accept my pledge?”

Oloriel, touched by the sincerity of his words, could not help smiling as she replied, more loudly this time, “I take thy pledge, my lord, and will remember it.”

The corners of Elladan’s mouth twitched upward as well. “With the vows that I have spoken, I am thy husband.”

Celeborn’s eyes emanated a soft glow as he turned to Oloriel. “And now I do bid you, Oloriel, to hold fast to this lord’s hand and, in the sight of Eru, pledge yourself with honor.”

With a giddy spirit, Oloriel began to speak the ancient vows, her body becoming almost numb with happiness. “I pledge to thee my life, to guard you in need and to ease your burdens, to honor you and to bring you joy. Do you accept my pledge?

“My lady, I do.” Elladan smiled, almost cheekily.

Oloriel remained solemn with admirable strength of will and went on to speak her second vow: “I pledge to you my heart in faithfulness, for you have filled it with so much gladness that I long for it to rest in your keeping and in none other’s. Do accept my pledge?

Elladan, composing his features once more, replied seriously, “I do.”

“Then Elladan, son of Elrond and Celebrían, I pledge to thee my soul, that it may be bound to thine own until the world is unmade.” For an instant time froze in that little garden as the sun dipped behind a cloud. Then, taking a small step forward, Oloriel leaned toward Elladan and whispered earnestly, “For you are my match, you complete me. Will you accept my pledge?

Elladan tilted his head slightly and brought his left hand up to pass softly across Oloriel’s cheek. “I will take thy pledge, my lady, and remember it always.”

The sun crept out from behind the cloud and bathed Oloriel’s hair in a shower of gold. “With the vows that I have spoken, I am thy wife.”

Needing no prompting, Elladan let the hand that rested against Oloriel’s cheek slip behind her neck, drawing her into a slow, lingering kiss. Then, with gentle movements and tender words, they both unbound each other’s hair, as the first demonstration of their new intimacy. This was, of course, somewhat difficult with the intricate plaiting of Oloriel’s hair, so Elladan satisfied himself with merely undoing his bride’s loose temple braids, much to the amusement of the gathered company.

With this action complete, Elrond stepped forward and took Oloriel’s right hand. “I welcome you into my heart and family, for you are now a part of my son. Let it be know that you will be to me as a daughter.” With these words he kissed Oloriel’s brow as the maiden squeezed his hand and gazed on him with joyful eyes.

Next, Nessúlë stepped forward and took Elladan’s left hand. “I welcome you into my heart. Oloriel is as a sister to me, and so I take you now as my brother. For what she loves, I too will love. Welcome.”


The rain did not come until the celebrations were well under way. A feast had been prepared in one of the smaller halls of the palace and some of the musically minded Elves entertained their companions with ballads and songs and dancing music.

Oloriel especially enjoyed the dancing. Elladan was a fine dancer and she could close her eyes and lose herself in the music without fear, knowing that he would lead and support her throughout the pattern. But it was not long until both she and Elladan were ready to be done with the festivities.

As twilight began to overtake the already dark sky Elladan took Oloriel’s hand and drew her into one final dance, inching his way slowly toward one of the side doors of the hall. Of course, his covert movements were not at all inconspicuous as the goal drew near and Oloriel had to press her face against his tunic to stifle her laughter as everyone else in the room tried to pretend they didn’t notice.

Arwen and Elessar seemed to think that Elladan had the right sort of idea and so rose from the dais on which they had been seated to take their leave as well, not even bothering to hide their retreat. In the bustle and buzz of departing royalty Elladan slipped through the door and drew Oloriel after him. The hallway soon echoed with her soft chuckles.

“You could have taken your leave in a more dignified manner, I am sure,melleth,” she chided good-naturedly, “No one would have stopped you.”

Elladan rolled his eyes. “I was under the impression that you knew my brother quite well. You can be assured, lady, that he could have found a way.”

Oloriel smiled and leaned her head against Elladan’s shoulder. “Very well then, lead on, my lord.”

Elladan led her down several hallways until they stood in front of an open door, leading into a sitting room of sorts. This was the suite that had been set aside for the remainder of their stay in the White City. Silently, Elladan drew her inside and closed the door.

For a time silence reigned as Oloriel gazed around the room, her back to where Elladan stood, noting the doorway on the right which lead into their bedchamber. The quiet continued unbroken as Elladan stepped up behind Oloriel and slid his arms around her waist, burying his face in her hair.

“You are mine now?” he finally broke the stillness, speaking with an incredulous voice.

Oloriel smiled softly. “Yes, my love, I am.”

Elladan swept her hair aside to place a kiss on her neck and then beneath her ear. “Then I need nothing else.”

As the echoing sound of the rain reverberated throughout the room, Oloriel turned around in Elladan’s arms and kissed him tenderly, passionately. Elladan responded in due kind, wrapping his arms tightly around her. Several moments passed before, drawing back with a sigh, Elladan lifted her up into his arms and carried her through the entrance to their new bedroom, making sure to close the door firmly behind him with his foot.

And this is how it was that a daughter of dreams, plagued by nightmares and creeping despair, came to find salvation in the love of another. For Elladan had filled the empty places in Oloriel’s heart until there was simply no more room for terror. It was he who would watch over her, through the night and on into the morning.

And that’s all one, our play is done
– William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night

Two years later, marking the beginning of the Fourth Age, Elrond passed into the West with Galadriel and many of the Elder Kindred that still dwelt in Middle Earth. But not all departed, and the remnants of his own House remained in Imladris for a time under the lordship of his two sons.

Even in this time of waning, there was much joy and light in the Elven realms, as they sought to leave what grace they could upon the world that had been their home for so many centuries. Not the least of their joys was the gifting of children, for during the dark times the merry cries of elflings had all but disappeared in the cities of the Eldar. But in the dawning of the Fourth Age of the Sun a new life came to the First Born; and Elves who had matured during war and death, and had restrained themselves from the deep bond of marriage, now found that their hearts were free to yield to thoughts of families and companionship.

In Imladris the birth of three children was celebrated, one of which belonged to Elladan and Oloriel. On September 3, 12 F.A. little Arannon was born with his mother’s green eyes and his father’s dark hair. Between his doting nana and ada and his adoring uncle the elfling was in very grave danger of being spoiled. However, after listening to ample advice from all sides, and after witnessing several escapades that reminded Elladan eerily of his own rambunctious childhood, the two new parents learned to balance affectionate leniency with loving discipline, doing their best to raise Arannon up to wisdom and goodness.

In the years that they remained in Middle Earth Elladan and Oloriel witnessed the passing of many of their dear friends, the deaths of Estel and Arwen bringing them the most pain. But there were also other experiences that bruised their hearts in different ways. In their own private lives they went through various disappointments. During the final years of their sojourn in Imladris they watched sadly as enchantment and lore faded from among Men. And Oloriel, in particular, felt the weight of aching responsibility when she learned in the year 8 F.A. that Kallindo, rudderless and exhausted, had sailed into the West to seek comfort.

But even during these dark times, Elladan and Oloriel, bound by love and fate and war, found joy and consolation in each other, in the family that they had created together, and in those friends that remained close to them and true in their affection. And so, against all odds, predictions, and hopelessness; and beyond all expectations, visions, and half-wilted beliefs, the two dreamers walked hand-in-hand into the Fourth Age of the Sun and loved and lost and lived.

The End


1. Ered Nimrais – the White Mountains

2. Rammas Echor – wall surrounding the Pelennor fields.

3. The White Tree – The tree of the kings, symbol of the line of Elendil of Númenor.

Things to Know:


Alkarin: “glorious”

Maldalossë: “gold blossom”

Arannon: “noble gift (masculine form?)”


adar: “father”

elleth: “she-Elf”

melleth nín: “love my”

mellon: “friend”

pen-neth: “one-young”

Coming Soon: “Bend in the Wind”, a story of Elrohir and Nessúlë

… And yes – before anyone asks – I will definitely write a story about Kallindo as well. = )


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Found in Home 5 Reading Room 5 Stories 5 To Dream – Ch36: And They Lived

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