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You thought they would not disturb you anymore and any further.
But you were totally and completely wrong after all, what had you just seen and experienced them in your own sleep – dream.
And why did they wrong you now? Especially this time of the year, when you were supposed to be joyous and pleased with one-week long celebration; all days, all nights.
You had woken up when most of musicians, bards and poets – who had stayed up since the previous evening – were retreating to their quarters, sparred just undertone notes and tunes lingering in the air. Climbing out of the bed, hobbled out of the room to the door that led to a balcony, and you sat down on cold hard floor.
You stared outward, through the gaps between trees, leaves, and monuments, wanderingly and aimlessly: sat still right there without moving; even chill and frigid breeze from western wind that numbed on your exposed skins could not irritate you.
And you could barely breathe. Right here. Right now.
Little had you known was the moment you pulling a blanket out and moving away from the bed; your husband, the High King Gil-Galad’s Herald, Elrond Peredhel was returning back to the quarter – perfect timing. Since he must stay for the basis of courtesy and rank, until honourable guesses and the High King dismissing, while you had retreated earlier than him, when one noble elf from Eregion mentioning about recent irregularity nearby his house.
That was not supposed to aggravate you, as you ignored that tale.
In spite of murksome bedchamber, Elrond sensed, no, saw you sitting on a cold floor in a mere thin and lucent nightgown. Dim light from candles outside the bed chamber cast hued shadow behind where you were; stiffen straight manner became crooking, knees closed up to a chin, both arms hugged both legs tightly – trying to protect yourself from what had lurked in your mind.
He removed the brooch and pin that hold his cloaked together and a leather belt of his sword, hung them on cloth-pole next to the vanity, before approaching you in quiet manner – afraid that he would panic you more than this presence.
‘No, I am not really there, where the darkness and those abominably twisted creatures are; I am home, I am under the light of the Great Tree, bright cloudless sky with my beloved’
Closing your eyes, tears ran down along your cheeks, you started muttering the phrase, the reminder that kept you staying sane, quietly.
‘No, I am not really there, where the darkness and those abominably twisted creatures are; I am home, I am under the light of the Great Tree, bright cloudless sky with my beloved’
And kept breathing; breathed in the fresh air of this pleasant night, breathed out while continued the litany repetitively:
‘…No, I am not really there, I am home…No. I. Am Not. Really There…’
All indistinct pictures, even sounds and chilliness from earlier began to prevail, more and more distinctively. You shook your head, orally reciting them.
“I am under the light of the Great Tree…I am home…I am under the bright cloudless sky…”
Nevertheless, those visions and sound completed themselves right in your imagination, as if it was pulling you back in time:
Sword and daggers in your hands slew those abominable and twisted creatures – the Orcs – with rapid and sharp blows. Dark liquid splashed across your face, as the darkness crept around you…until you could not see anything but protruding eyeballs.
“…I am under the light…”
You whimpered, murmured, then started sobbing. The four sides of bedchamber’s wall squeezed you, both physically and mentally; the hitching breath, at the very first of this struggle, gradually became chokes and smothering.
Seemed as likewise as the weir breaking out; pool of tears in your eyes’ sockets rapidly fell down along your cold cheeks, fisting the material of your nightgown tightly, you shook harder.
“No…I…I…I…” You tried reciting those words, even if they were almost smothering, “I am…I…am…I am under the br—”
Perilous completely blurred before your senses and your mind. Darkness and death, finally, overwhelmed and defeat the light that you persisting to seize with whole of your own body; they were impeding you from the smooth and soft voice ringing behind you, totally deafness.
“No! Silence! Stop…Please…Please don’t…”
Sniveling, cried and screeched like maniac, you pushed and teared a pair of big, yet soft hands which holding your shoulder and forearm.
“Y/N…”
“Let me go!”
“Y/N!”
“Hands off!”
You shouted, wriggled and screamed in high pitch. Over and over. Again, and again. Gripping and tightened your skirt tighter, almost tore it down.
“Elen Nîn!”
Then you heard the words; meant for only your ears, just yours alone. The voice that seems far and distance away gradually became clarifying. You woke. coming back to sense; not all, those illusion faded out, replacing by gentle and familiar face.
“I’m here…” Elrond had sat beside you, whispered softly, “I’m here with you, Y/N.”
“Meleth Nîn?”
Raspy voice slipped out from your quivering mouth, your eyes got wider, before blinking twice; dispelling wetness away.
“You’re safe now, my star. Those dreadful and horrific deeds are long gone, out of reach and far away.”
“But I see them…Grotesque, ghastful and—”
“Shh...Forget those monstrous terror, Elen Nîn. They can neither hurt nor haunt you now.
“Elrond…”
You still sobbed and whimpered; trying to take control over your own body again, nevertheless, tears kept traveling its path. All you could do now was closing your eyes.
Elrond tenderly pull the back of your head close to his forehead. He cradled your cheek, wrapped his other arm around your body like a blanket, murmured and solacing you:
“…Of what and where darker than darkness dwelt, with the grace of Elebereth; O luminous and light expand from her shining hands, over the sunless and moonless land – million sparkles through velvet sky, they fly…”
It was his own poem. The poem he wrote you after he confessed his heart out to you, and proceeded courting you, about two decades ago, but it never ceased to please your ears.
Meanwhile continued reciting fine proses and proses, he lifted you up, straight to the bed, before laying you down on soft and feathery mattress.
“Weep no more, my star.”
He lolloped beside you. An arm reached behind to hold you in his arm until his curls touching your skin, another one – caressing your hair – trail down your temple, nose, cheek, ear and chin.
Though looked up, meeting his orbs with yours; puffed red pair; pale face; messy hair and bruised fingernail marks upon your forearms, Elrond still reckoned that you were captivating him.
He smiled down at you, sealed your forehead with his plushy lips, continuing his verses:
“For the time passes by, Kementari ploughs and pries, for tall trees and pines sprout sowing… In blooming, summer arriving, brightening every evening like eternal.”
You felt warmness of the world again, eventually. His gentle tone in his delicate and mild voice soothed your utmost core; you stopped shaking and shivering, breathing was much slower and more even, pursing lips unraveled into relax form, altogether with your feet.
“Darkness and winter but just the endless season on earth, my dearest.”
In Elrond’s embrace, you snuggled up to his chest, as you listened to the smooth rhythm of his heartbeats; they calmed your cadence down until it was grown closing to state of normal. Henceforth, you prolonged this one of his masterpieces. Your sound was less quiver – steadier:
“After the frozen and withered, as Tilion’s journey on the heaven above at endings of Springtime, and Anarien’s ascendant from the most eastern horizon beyond the sea; Summertime has begun…”
“…Summertime has begun…Yes…The Golden Leaves, and thin delicate Daisies to big Bignonias, shall wave countless shining gleaming colours onto greenery floor.”
He repeated the phrase, nodded leisurely to affirm your words. Both of you smiling to each other, giggling a little.
For Elrond; your tears had ceased, beginning to dry and fading away under the light outside which passing through bedchamber – glittering like the million diamonds and plain golds around.
For you; Elrond’s face and expression were beautiful and much more softening, as always, when those haunted memories struck before getting the best out of you. His gentle touches and kindness brought the light – your eternal Sun – within you back again.
“Other glore to bloom, to blossom here and there.”
You sighed with delightful and pure bliss nearby.
“When you write the High King speeches under the Beech, I shall adorn you with orange’s blossom crown.”
“Then I shall write you more songs and poems, so we are going to be exceedingly indulging ourselves, under the golden light; tasting all sweet and sour berries, dancing and singing until we fatigue, and so, looking above the ocean of stars and listening to the sound of seagulls and the streams.”
“Elsewise, just jump into the streams and swimming with lovely creatures wherein they reside…” You purred, enchantingly, as he kept stroking your hair and brushing your face with delicate in every touch of his fingers “But you, no need to deliberate me about how they arriving this world, promise me?”
Elrond chuckled amusingly tinting with a little bit nervous. You knew the redness and hotness had been creeping along his face to his ears and neck already.
“Don’t you treasure my attainment at all, Elen Nîn?”
“Oh…I do always more than treasure your intellect, Meleth Nîn, no doubt…”
You, at this moment were happier now, bent your husband head down, giving a long, but chaste and loving kiss upon his mouth, and could sense his wide smile spreading on your lips.
“Gi melin, i-galad e-guil nîn.”
You breathed, of course, unruffled now, playing with his curls on your face.
“No, Gi melin rovaer.”
He kissed back, shifting his weight down from your body, yet hovering those lips over yours.
“Should I trust the man who prepares and arranges words into numerous soul-propelling speeches?”
“Believe me, you would not let me roam this world beside you forever, since your smile captivating me from that day, if you have never trusted me until this minute.”
“You wordsmith!” Merrily laughing out louder than earlier, you push him to his side. “Go get change, Meleth Nîn, or I would not let you lay on the same bed to me!”
Elrond stole one more kiss on your nose, warm and joyful grin still plastered on his face, before turned away and taking his outer robe off – again, turned toward, lounged on the bed, leaned in, and pecking your chin.
“Please bid me into your mesmeric dream…”
The consciousness that remained in you humming quietly to his appeal. Seem like the Valar heard his desire, so they blessed; you and your beloved now and forever did meet each other in same visions.