Chapter Text
The first time he met her, she nearly ran him over.
It was raining; not too hard, but enough that the drizzle was annoying. Elrond was scurrying across the main plaza of the Palace ground. He was late to report for duty in the healing ward (healing was his latest hobby after horticulture and fencing). As he rushed through the rain, he hunched over his stack of books in a futile effort to protect them.
He didn't see the horse until it was almost too late.
Elrond turned around a blind corner and straight into the path of the horse. The large white mare would have plowed straight into him if he hadn't jumped aside at the last minute. His sudden movement spooked the horse. It reared quite suddenly, throwing its rider.
The figure hit the ground hard, rolling several times before it lay in a crumpled heap on the cobblestones. Elrond promptly dropped his books as he rushed to help. The figure turned out to be an elf lady. Elrond had never seen her before. She had white-blonde hair that was pulled back in a sloppy bun. Her dress might have been white or silver, but it was hard to say under all the mud. She looked more than a bit dazed.
"Are you alright?" Elrond babbled, not really sure what to do.
The lady groaned.
Without a second thought, Elrond gently scooped the poor lady up and raced as fast as he could to the healer's.
He made a rather unusual sight, rushing into the healer's halls with a lady in his arms. Elrond took her to the nearest bed as he tried to explain a little too fast and his words got tangled. Thankfully the head healer was able to untangle his frantic babble.
The lady was soon washed and tended to. Elrond's jangled nerves eventually settled enough for him to help set the lady's wrist. She had a slight concussion from the fall, a broken wrist and a wonderfully bruised side. Nothing that wouldn't heal in an elf in a week or so. Elrond told her just that as the heal healer stepped away to tend to blacksmith with a nasty burn. In response, she gave him a rakish smile.
"Good thing it was my wrist and not an ankle. I can still ride," she declared.
"I don't know if I would suggest that," Elrond grimaced.
"Noted and ignored," the lady shrugged.
"Excuse me?" Elrond felt a little insulted that his advice was being so carelessly tossed away, "Which one of us is the healer?"
"Clearly not you, you're just the apprentice," the lady snorted.
"What's your point?" Elrond glared back.
"My point is that you are not qualified to tell me what to do."
"Then you are an idiot to disregard sound medical advice," Elrond growled.
The lady blinked. Surprise flashed across her face. Elrond wasn't sure if it was his tone of voice or his words that prompted the reaction. The lady's face quickly went back to indifference.
"Medical advice from a student," the lady sniffed.
"It still counts," Elrond crossed his arms, "Plus I'm older than you."
"And just who are you supposed to be?"
Elrond grimaced. This was always his least favorite question.
"Elrond," he grumbled.
"Elrond what? Come now, you must have some sort of patronym," she chided.
The gleam in her eye told him that she knew exactly who he was.
Elrond grit his teeth. Technically, it would be 'Eärendilion', but he refused to go by the name of the man who he had only met once. He preferred his adopted name of 'Kanafinwion', but Gil-Galad hated when he used it.
"Peredhel," he finally grit out, "Elrond Peredhel. Gil-Galad's herald."
"Peredhel? That's the most ridiculous name I have ever heard," she snorted, "Mine is Celebrían Aenweneth Celeborniel."
Elrond wasn't quite sure why he needed her full name.
"I came with my parents from Lothorien," Celebrían continued.
"And you just went for a ride by yourself in the rain?"
"Don't be stupid. It wasn't raining when I left and I ditched my escort after an hour. It's so much more fun when you don't have your babysitters following you around."
Elrond blinked. He couldn't help but admire her bold disregard for the rules. He had thought about riding alone once or twice, but Gil-Galad always squashed that idea and he felt overwhelmingly guilty whenever he broke a rule.
"You do realize that there are Wargs and Orcs that still survive in the woods, right?" He finally asked.
"It's not my fault that your king isn't able to keep his own lands safe," Celebrían shrugged.
Elrond bristled on behalf of his liege lord and friend. Celebrían smiled sweetly at him. As he watched her, Elrond decided that he had never seen any one so repulsive yet so attractive. The confusing mixture of emotions left him flustered and short tempered.
"No comments? I thought they said that you had that kinslayer's silver tongue," Celebrían snorted.
Elrond was saved from answering by the slamming of rooms and hurried footsteps.
"Celebrían?"
Two figures rushed over to the bed side. These people Elrond did recognize. He was rather dismayed to find himself looking at none other than the Lady Galadriel and her husband Celeborn.
"Celebrían? Are you alright? What happened?" Celebron demanded.
"I'm fine!" Celebrían protested, swatting away their hands, "I went for a little ride; nothing bad, I promise."
"How did you end up here?"
"That would be my fault," Elrond colored a bit as he admitted this, "I spooked her horse on accident."
Celeborn and Galadriel swung to face Elrond. Celeborn narrowed his eyes, trying to place where he knew Elrond from.
"You have Thingol's nose," he finally said.
Elrond had the urge to cover his rather distinctly shaped nose that he had inherited from his mother's side of the family.
"I'm Elrond," he offered.
"You're the kinslayer's brat, the one that Ereinion adopted who's twin went feral." Celeborn shook his head.
"Elros chose mortality. He didn't go feral," Elrond said defensively.
"Same difference," Celeborn shrugged.
While they were talking, Elrond felt an uncomfortable prickling in the back of his mind.
"My daughter is betrothed already," Galadriel announced, "I suggest that you look for a whore elsewhere."
Her comment caused Elrond to blush deeply.
"Mother!" Celebrian exclaimed, "Firstly, you never let me use that language. Secondly, I already told you that I have no intention of marrying that backwoods idiot of a Silvan elf."
"Thranduil is respectable and -"
"And he would rather eat his own arm than go on any sort of an adventure," Celebrían growled in frustration.
Elrond began backing towards the door, not really wanting to be part of this clearly private moment.
"Brí, I won't have this argument here," Galadriel sighed, "We already told you that you have a horrible taste in men. You are marrying Thranduil unless you happen to find a substitute that we approve of."
Celebrían crossed her arms and looked decided annoyed. Elrond could keep himself from choking. It was the same look that Elros had often given when he was young and didn't want to listen to directions. It brought back a flood of memories.
Elrond choked before he fled from the room.
He hide for the rest of day in his rooms. His thoughts were spinning. He could only think of Elros.... and Celebrían. He was there long enough that Gil-Galad come to check on him.
"Elrond? Are you alright?" Gil-Galad asked, letting himself into Elrond's rooms, "You've been hiding in here all day."
"I'm fine," Elrond shrugged.
Gil-Galad gave his young herald an appraising look. Elrond looked tired (but then again, he looked tired with an alarming frequency) but nothing too out of the ordinary.
"I heard that you met part of the embassy from Lothlorien," Gil-Galad hummed.
"Maybe?" Elrond tried to keep his tone neutral.
"They're going to be a handful, aren't they," Gil-Galad snorted.
"I... erm... well..." Elrond stammered.
"We're in a private room, Elrond. You don't have to keep your political façade. Galadriel can be a right holy terror if she chooses. As for Celeborn, well he can be a bit of a stubborn ass. He likes his traditions and rules. I believe they brought their daughter Celebrían with them. I haven't met her yet. Did you?"
"Yes. I don’t like her. She’s arrogant and willful," Elrond shrugged.
Gil-Galad raised an eye brow.
"I've heard that she is very beautiful," Gil-Galad commented after a moment.
"Yes," Elrond murmured distracted, before he realized what he had said and hastily backtracked, "I mean, she's beautiful in an ordinary sense. You know, like perfectly ordinary. And she's betrothed."
At the last sentence, Elrond's shoulders fell ever so slightly and the wistfulness returned to his face. Gil-Galad could count on one hand the number of times he had seen his herald make that expression and they all centered one or another of his missing fathers, or Elros. This was the first time that Elrond had ever been so smitten with a female.
In that moment, Gil-Galad made up his mind. He would have to play matchmaker.