As Middle Earth Wept...

Written By: Alatarielf
You can read the Original Here:
All Credit goes to the Original Author

It was raining the day his daughter chose to leave Middle Earth.

Elves dressed in black surrounded him, as if they were attending her funeral. But she wasn’t dying, she was leaving, so instead he stood defiantly dressed in lavender, her favorite color. The elves were crying, tears pouring from their eyes, but Lord Celeborn didn’t cry. As the respected lord of Lothlorien and a dedicated father and husband, Celeborn decided long ago that he needed to be strong for his family and his people. So as his daughter said her good-byes before she boarded the ship for Valinor, he told himself once again that he would be strong today for her…and for himself.

~((*))~

It was raining the day she was born.

Celeborn paced nervously, his fingers laced behind his back while his wife endured the pains of elven labor in the next room. Proving as stubborn as both her parents, his daughter had decided to come into the world fashionably late, delaying her birth for twenty-three stressful hours. Sighing, he sank into his favorite high-backed chair and stared out the window. His kinsman Thingol, had once told him that the rain was Arda’s way of cleansing Middle-Earth. While the incessant “pitter-patter” of rain only added to his nerves, the thought that the world was purifying itself for his daughter’s entrance encouraged him. A sharp knock brought him out of his reverie and a maid, looking exhausted, burst through the door.

“My lord, your child –“

Before she could finish her statement, he pushed past her into the room where a worn out, yet glowing Galadriel lay in bed, cradling a small lavender bundle in her arms. In three large steps, he crossed the room, kissed her damp forehead, and kneeled beside her, peering into the bundle. Wordlessly, Galadriel bade him hold the baby and albeit awkwardly, he did so, supporting his tiny daughter in his much larger arms.

Gently pushing back the blanket, he first saw the peaceful glazed of a sleeping elf and noticed the unusual pale blue of his little one’s eyes.

Pushing the cover even farther back, he noted the tufts of soft, silver hair, so akin to his own. Slowly, a grin graced his features as he began to realize: his daughter.

He descended beside his wife on the bed and both beheld their child.

“Celebrian,” Galadriel said.

He nodded.

Celebrian…silver queen.

~((*))~

And when he had felt the first few drops of rain, he had hoped that the precipitation would wash away her wounds and troubles, as it had when she was born.

He watched as Celebrian next embraced her husband. Elrond’s tall form shook as he sobbed into his wife’s arms.

For all the resentment that Celeborn held against his son-in-law for taking his precious daughter away, he could not grudge the half-elf for mourning. Elrond had, for the most part, taken care of Celebrian, and had sired three darling elflings, whose visits never failed to bring joy…or at least excitement, to their grandparents’ days.

~((*))~

It was raining on her wedding day.

Despite this, however, Elrond had insisted on keeping the wedding date. Rain, he stated was symbolic of change. So, while all of the guests nearly froze to death, the young couple gazed into each other’s eyes and exchanged vows, oblivious of the fact that they were drenched.

“I knew we should have never sheltered that silly peredhil,” Celeborn grumbled to his wife, who looked as though not even the chilly rain could wipe the serene smile from her face.

“What a fickle mind you have hervenn. Was it not you who said that Elrond’s stay at Lorien in the hope that his passive personality would tame our wild daughter?” This much was true, he thought. Celebrian had grown up to be quite reckless: jumping off tall trees and swimming in the freezing cold rivers that laced through Lothlorien.

“That was before I knew his plans to corrupt her,” was his reply.

“Corrupt her? He wanted to court her, silly elf!” his wife amended.

Still frowning, Celeborn looked away, still convinced that Elrond was a horribly shady elf. Well what was he supposed to think when Gil-Galad’s esteemed herald sought refuge in Lorien, later to find him heartily kissing Celebrian? Upon stumbling into the room, he recalled, his wife placed a restraining hand on his shoulder, for she knew that he had no qualms on killing the elf-lord on the spot...which he felt the rising urge to do at the moment as Celebrian and Elrond turned to the guests, newlyweds.

~((*))~

Next, Celebrian knelt before her small daughter, Arwen, whose, albeit darker, features mirrored her mother’s. He smiled as the little one clung to her mother, recalling a time when his own daughter had been just as desperate to keep her parents by her side.

~((*))~

A streak of lightning illuminated the room, revealing a small, terrified ellyth clinging to her blankets. As a crack of thunder sounded, she screamed, “Ada! Amme!”

Only seconds after her cry, Celeborn came bursting through her door, sword in hand, and Galadriel, close behind. Celebrian leaped from her bed and attached herself to her father’s leg, whimpering as another roar of thunder resounded through the small area.

Tenderly pulling the elfling from his leg, Celeborn held her, rubbing soothing circles on her back.

“Why do you cry, sell-nin?” asked Galadriel.

Still sniffling Celebrian replied, “I am scared, Amme. Scared of the thunder and lightning.”

Celeborn smiled knowingly, and as he continued comforting her he said, “But ion-nin, there is nothing to fear. Why if anything, you should be grateful for the thunder as it only means to scare away vicious predators from the loveliest ellyth in all of Arda.”

Now looking somewhat pleased, Celebrian yawned and responded grumpily, “Well there’s no need for it to so loud.”

Both her parents laughed at this as they placed her back in bed, tucking the corners of the blanket around her now sleeping form. Together they watched their daughter as her even breathing caused the blanket to rise and fall accordingly in proud silence.

~((*))~

Finally, Celebrian came to him and as he held her memories of her youth flashed before him and he could take it no longer. A single tear traced its way down the contours of his face and as his daughter whispered words of reassurance to him, several more followed the first.

And when her ship at last departed, the venerable Lord Celeborn fell to his knees weeping. And as the torrents of rain crashed upon him, he knew that Middle Earth too wept…for the loss of its silver queen.