Chapter Text
“Melda tári,” Elrond started softly, holding one of his sons in his arms, “they are beautiful.”
Celebrían smiled at the bundle in her arms. “They have your hair.” Celebrían took one of her fingers and gently touched her son’s nose, and he scrunched it in response. Celebrían’s smile grew, and she was practically grinning as her son yawned for the first time.
“But they have your eyes.” Elrond smiled at his wife, and then the bundle in his arms. “Elrohir,” he stated suddenly.
Celebrían hummed in response. “I like it, melda tár.” She kissed her son’s fragile forehead, and he smiled back at her. She was in awe of the little being, her son, and she found herself more full of love than she ever thought she was capable of. “And he shall be Elladan.”
“Ammë?” Elrohir’s voice was desperate. “Ammë? Where are you?” He exchanged a look with Elladan, who shook his head with a frown. “We need to find her.”
Elladan agreed. They could not let her suffer any longer. Not when they were so close to finding her. “I will go north; you check the south, brother.” Nodding, the two brothers split up, straining their ears and eyes in an attempt to find their missing mother. Orcs had abducted her several days before, and the twins had been working tirelessly to find her. Their father was beside himself with worry, and little Arwen had not stopped crying.
It was hours of searching, when Elladan was prepared to give up, when he heard a cry. A single, solitary cry, a cry of pain, and he was immediately searching for the source. “Ammë?” The elf tried calling out, repeating it for a while, before he tried something else. “Celebrían? It is me, Elladan. One of your sons.”
There was silence. And then, “Elladan?” It was faint, almost to the point of silence, but Elladan heard it, and he ran. He crashed through the trees, feet barely touching the ground, as he chased after the source. She had started crying again, and Elladan pushed himself to move even faster. He was ready to give up and start calling out her name again when he spotted her. Beautiful Celebrían, the jewel of Lothlórien and pride of her mother, sat in an ungraceful heap leaning on a tree. Her once glowing blond hair was tangled with leaves and sticks and what appeared to be dried blood. Elladan slowly approached her, taking care to make noise so that she knew of his presence.
“Ammë, it’s me,” he said in a voice that sounded far more confident than he felt. “It’s Elladan.”
Celebrían rose her head from where it had been buried in her hands, and Elladan took a step back in surprise. What had they done to her? Her once fair face was littered with bruises and scrapes, and her eyes were swollen with tears, and there was a horrible cut on her lower lip. She was barely recognisable. “Ammë, what did they do to you?” His words were barely audible.
Celebrían stared at her son, almost in a questioning way. “Elladan?” His name sounded so foreign on her lips, and she seemed to hesitate as she said it, and the elf paused.
“Yes, ammë, it’s me. It’s Elladan, your son.” Elladan could wait no longer and moved to kneel by her side, and she flung herself into his arms. Elladan, surprised, did not falter, but he rose a hand to stroke her matted hair as she sobbed into his chest. She seemed so frail and young at that moment, so broken, that he found himself crying too.
They stayed there for many moments, crying to each other, when Celebrían raised her head from his chest, and his heart bled. Her eyes were red now, though barely visible due to how swollen they were. When she noticed his tears, she put a hand on his cheek and pulled him down so that she could kiss his forehead, as she always did to try and calm him down. He held her close to him, trying to comfort her as she grew weaker before his very eyes. He wanted Elrohir with him, wanted his atar with him, here in his ammë’s final moments.
“Melinyes, ammë,” Elladan whispered as her eyes drifted shut. Celebrían gave him a weak smile, but it was genuine. Her lips formed words, but no sound came out. “Melinyes.” He kept his gaze on his mother, refusing to turn away. He felt as she took her final breath, and felt as her heart stopped and skin grew cold. Elladan found that he did not have the heart to move away from Celebrían’s corpse. He could hear Elrohir’s worried voice call out for him, but he did not respond. He simply sat and stared at the body in his arms, unmoving and barely breathing.
Elladan learned many things that day in the forest. He learned to never take someone’s love for granted, and that there should be no mercy for the orc blight. Sometimes, at night, Elladan heard his mother’s sobs, and he could sometimes still feel her lips press against his forehead, and it would calm him down enough to let him go back to sleep, at least for a few more moments.
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