High Princes of Tirion
by Nemis
For my bestest pal, Kalurien. *bows*
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Chapter Twenty-Eight Regrets
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That evening, those in the house who had not already noticed the tension between Elrond and Celebrían were left no doubt of it now. Neither of the two had left their chambers, and the opposite doors, which normally stood wide open, were now firmly shut, and remained so. Erestor, together with Elladan, Aurehen, the twin girls, and Elernil, took the evening meal in silence, both ends of the table empty of their usual occupants.
‘The fault lies not with you, Elernil,’ Erestor finally remarked, as he had watched the young Elf sit subdued for the larger part of the meal. ‘You were delivering a message, do not let it worry you.’
‘This is easier said than done,’ Elernil remarked, moving his food across the plate, having lost his appetite long before.
Elladan sank back in his chair.
‘They will resolve this before long, and we shall all be laughing about it.’
Elernil nodded, but he did not seem entirely certain of his uncle’s words.
‘I hope so.’
‘Your Daeradar and Daernaneth are both merely worried, and they just need some time to compose themselves,’ Aurehen affirmed, while attempting to stop Almarinde from throwing her food through the air. ‘Perhaps if Briníel had left a note of some sort, or had informed someone, all would have been better.’
‘Would it not be a good idea to send someone to warn Celebriníel?’ Elernil offered.
Throwing a questioning look in Erestor’s direction, Elladan stayed silent, while Erestor seemed to consider the notion.
‘I do not know whether this would make matters better or worse, truth be told,’ he finally said.
Elernil nodded silently, and returned to moving his dinner aimlessly about.
Elrond sat deep in his chair, elbows on the armrests, his eyes on the dim strip of light that Anar apparently deemed necessary to shine onto the floor of his chambers. Anar had replaced Ithil, but he had not paid much attention to it, occupied with thoughts of his wife, and regrets that he had not immediately set to resolve their argument when it had started. He had not gone to the evening meal, and had simply sat in his study, until he could no longer bear it. Quietly, and more than ready to take the blame, he had gone to their chambers, where he had expected Celebrían to be. Upon finding the chambers empty of occupants, he had simply returned, angry with her, but more angry with himself. It had taken some effort not to give in to the temptation to slam the door shut.
The longer this would drag on, the harder it would become, he thought.
Almost a day now, a day in which all the house had remained quiet and subdued, knowing of the discord between its lord and lady.
And for what? Elrond considered. Absolutely nothing.
He had been overly worried, had felt slightly irritated by what seemed to be his closest friends acting behind his back; first Ereinion, and then Glorfindel. But subsequently all had been pulled out of context, and he himself had participated in this largely.
They had been at odds before, Celebrían and he, but never more than an afternoon. This present situation was eating away at him, keeping him from sleep, from his normal routines, from everything, truthfully, more so because it had all the features of something that could result in heartbreak.
She was always the one that resolved his inner conflicts, who helped him sort out any disagreements he had engaged in with others. But who would resolve any conflict between them? Who knew whether this was not the final drop for her, the thing that would create a distance between them?
He chastised himself.
You see what kind of sorry state you put upon yourself, Peredhil? Have you not received countless proofs of her love, her utter devotion to you over the years?
This is merely something that must be resolved for all to be well once more, and it would already be so, if you were both not so opinionated and stubborn as you are.
He sighed.
The worries which had caused his irate behaviour the day before were still present in his mind, but after a long night of quiet contemplation, he could be more objective about it. The argument nonetheless stood as it had before, he still viewed it as he did before, but it should never have been taken as far as it had been now.
Sitting so, pondering away, he distinguished the neighing of horses, the sound being carried up and entering through the open doors of the balcony, causing his heart to jump.
As quick as he could, he made his way down towards the stables, in a quiet rustle of loose robes. He had expected to find arrivals, and not members of the household departing. Especially not these particular members of the household.
His wife stood with her back turned to him, dressed in a splendid grey. Elrond recognised it to be one of the dresses he loved to see her in, with its intricate embroidery at the sleeves and front, and difficult to open buttons. Standing beside her horse, slipping on her riding gloves, she seemed not to notice his presence. A little further off Elrond noticed his grandson, also ready for travel. Celebrían.
She turned at once, surprise in her blue eyes.
Elrond. She responded almost curtly, which he had not thought possible in their quiet way of conversing. It hurt him, as he knew it hurt her.
‘Where would you go, lady?’ Without even telling me?
‘To the sea.’
Half a day’s journey to flee from me?
‘To clear my mind,’ she replied.
He found her mind carefully guarded, each gentle touch he attempted refused. Finally nodding, he watched her mount, reminded of how the gentle mother was also a strong and powerful presence of her own, a side which was so easily forgotten.
‘May your journey be a safe and uneventful one, leading you to your intended destination.’
Inwardly scolding himself for acting more cold than he actually felt, he stepped back, ready for any biting remark she would be justified to give. It did not come.
‘Navaer, Elrond.’ she merely replied, turning her horse and urging it on.
He could only watch, ignoring Elernil’s confused stare, standing silently as riders and horses finally disappeared from sight. Then he spun around abruptly and strode back inside, into the library and up the stairs, where he slammed the door as hard as he knew was possible without doing damage to the ancient wood.
As soon as she knew she was far enough removed from Imloth to be able to keep her feelings secure without intense concentration, Celebrían addressed her grandson.
‘Ride on to Tirion, Elernil, and inform Celebriníel to prepare to accompany me to visit her grandmother.’
He hesitated, but her serious gaze won the young Elf over in the end, and he spurred his horse, riding away fast.
Celebrían was glad to be alone; with Elrond’s face before her mind’s eye ever since she had left Imloth, that pained look of surprise and disappointment so clearly written across his features, she had been forced to summon all her power to keep back her tears. Now, she would have a much-needed moment to herself.
At Imloth she had been very close to simply bursting out in tears and throwing herself into Elrond’s arms. The fact that he had stopped guarding his mind, making his thoughts and feelings easily accessible to her, had only brought her closer to actually doing it.
But she had not.
Using her sleeve, she dried her wet eyes.
She had heard him go to their chambers the night before, had felt his anger, his disappointment, as he returned and barricaded himself in his study again. Very close, she had been, to going to him then, but she had remained where she was, staring at the night sky. More objective at that point, she knew quite well her words had been harsher than his. He had more right to this anger than she.
Her anger was gone, but it had been replaced by emptiness, tiredness. A kind of cold detachment she was only now able to shake off.
The night had brought a revelation to her. Not pride, or stubbornness, had been that which made her meet Elrond head-on. It had been regret. Her own regrets now being reflected onto her daughter.
Sighing deeply, she brought her horse to a slower trod.
She had never considered those years between her first meeting in Imladris with Elrond, and a much later one which had resulted in marriage, to be wasted years. They had been different people then, had changed over time, had not been ready yet. She believed it to be true still.
But why then, she asked herself, do you feel the need to protect your daughter, as if waiting was a mistake you made in the past, an error you do not wish Celebriníel to make now? She is not you.
Prompting her mare to speed up again, Celebrían closed her eyes, trusting the animal to keep her safe. She needed the wind through her hair, against her face. She needed it to clear her mind. The wind proved not to be very obliging today.
Exactly three hours after entering, Elrond stormed out of his study again, pulling off his robes as he moved through the corridors, entering his chambers, attempting to find travel garments, all the while cursing his own idiocy.
‘So much for wisdom increasing with age,’ he muttered to himself. ‘For you have apparently gained none since your fiftieth year.’
Slipping on a tunic and breeches, throwing a cloak around his shoulders, he turned and sped down the stairs, feeling his stomach tumble. He knew what was to be done, what was necessary to make all be well again.
Ride, he would, as fast as he possibly could.
And when he found her, he would simply beg, beg forgiveness, beg for understanding, beg for lips to touch his and her voice to tell him all was well.
‘How can you possibly be foolish enough to bring separation upon yourself?’ he asked rhetorically. ‘When you could not prevent it, you vowed to do all in your power to never let it occur again, and now…’
In the hall, he stumbled upon Erestor, who met his eyes, seemingly more amused than he should be.
‘If you ride fast, you can reach the coast before nightfall,’ he offered.
Elrond stared at him.
‘As a friend, Erestor, is it not your duty to point out my folly to me, especially when it becomes too obvious?’
Smiling sensibly, Erestor shook his head.
‘I thought it not my place, on this occasion.’
‘Well, make it your place, on future occasions.’
‘I should?’
Looking up from fastening a last catch of his clothing, Elrond finally nodded.
‘I have been a fool.’
‘Indeed.’
Growling and walking on, Elrond could hear his old friend’s laughter, and felt his heart lift.
Preparing his horse went in quite a haze, and before long he found himself on the road to Tirion, not entirely certain as to how he exactly arrived there. Knowing there were several hours of travel ahead, he dedicated himself to journeying as fast as possible. He vowed to pay attention to the scenery on the return journey.
When after some time Tirion appeared on Elrond’s left side, he realised over a third of the distance had already been covered. Paying little attention to the white walls, he only urged his horse faster.
Much as Erestor had predicted, it was shortly before sunset that Elrond cleared the sandy dunes, and reached the small assembly of structures that stood a stone’s throw removed from the base of his mother’s tower. He dismounted and led his horse over to a small wooden and stone construction he knew served as a stable. Upon entering, he immediately spotted Celebrían’s white mare.
After taking care of his own mount, he could not help but walk over to the pale animal, giving it a comforting scratch behind the ears.
‘Where is your mistress then?’ he whispered, as the horse nuzzled his shoulder. With a smile, he stepped back, ready to leave and seek out Celebrían. Possibly the best thing was to look for her inside one of the structures, he thought. But before he could decide on a precise course of action, a sound behind him made him turn abruptly.
‘Adar?’
‘Briníel?’
His daughter fell into his arms the next moment, and he held her close, for it seemed all he could do.
‘Naneth came to Tirion,’ she explained to his shoulder. ‘And Ereinion thought... We came with her.’
Withdrawing, Elrond looked at her.
‘Ereinion is here?’ he could not help enquiring. Only now did he notice the other horses, one of them definitely Ereinion’s.
Celebriníel nodded.
‘He is with Daernaneth, just...’ she pointed, and meant to lead the way, but Elrond held her back.
‘Your mother?’
‘She went out some hours ago, after we arrived, but she has not yet returned.’
Catching his daughter’s hand, and bringing up the other to stroke her cheek, Elrond smiled, quietly surprised most of his earlier anger had now gone absent.
‘I must find her first.’
High above, Anar shared the sky with Ithil still, creating a palette of colours too extensive to describe. Not even for a moment did Elrond allow it to hold his interest. He scanned the shoreline, the light sand contrasting with the dark water in the approaching dusk, hoping to distinguish a figure somewhere, but did not. Drawn southward, he began walking as Anar finally gave way to Ithil overhead.
Some leagues removed from the shore, small boats drifted, the sails lowered. Fishermen, or simply lovers of the tug and pull of the ever-changing waters, Elrond thought. Rubbing his forehead, he sighed.
And then he heard it, familiar, a part of him, ancient and still never the same.
He quickened his pace, going towards the sound, which was only a thing brought by the wind, until at last, at last, his eyes could confirm it.
‘Celebrían!’ he called against the wind, but it was not in vain, as he first feared it would be. The singing ceased, and the silver-haired lady, still dressed in the light grey of before, turned to him, but stayed where she was. Elrond hurried on.
Since his light travel clothing did in no way hinder him, his pace was swift, and at times he did not think his feet even met the ground. The wet sand of the shoreline was easy to run in, and he neared in no time at all. Perhaps before he had been able to consider his actions further. Slowing, it was only at the very last moment that he looked up to meet her eyes. And there he found his own feelings, his own regrets mirrored.
Before he was aware of it, he had slipped his arms around her waist and was kissing her, feeling one of her hands on the back of his neck, her lips desperately seeking his. Answering her lips he pressed her closer, before trailing his lips over her cheek, bringing them close to her ear.
‘Nîn díheno, Celebrían.’
Cold fingers touched his ear, stroking back the loose strands of his hair which the wind had tugged from their hold, while trembling slightly.
‘Nîn díheno, meld’aran órenyo.’
Suddenly, the darkening sky was lit up by lightening, and far away, the clouds grumbled an early warning: rain would come.
Both Elves had been startled by the flash, but now directed their attention back to each other.
Catching one of Celebrían’s hands, Elrond brought it up to his lips and closed his eyes. She smiled, and touched his face.
‘It would be wise to return, before the storm breaks.’
Elrond smiled, meeting her eyes.
‘We will not make it.’
‘You do not wish to try?’
‘I would try if my lady wishes it.’
Still holding his hand, Celebrían began walking back, walking just a little bit faster than she would have in any other case. Letting his hand slip from hers, she looked over her shoulder with an enticing smile.
Elrond took some quick steps to reach her, but she had anticipated it and swiftly evaded him, starting to run. With a chuckle, Elrond went in pursuit, as the first drops of rain began to come down.
Celebrían was certain she was flying, her heart was light enough to make it possible. He had come, he had found her, and he felt the same. He was faster than she was, and she was quite aware of it. Swift feet were closing in on her, and she knew it would not be a moment longer when he would catch her.
But she wanted to be caught, she smiled to herself.
And then it was there, a strong arm around her waist, and she laughed in relief and surprise, as it lifted her slightly, making her unable to go on. Elrond allowed her to turn in his arms, but no further than that, holding her firmly and kissing her with a pleased groan.
Returning his kiss, Celebrían let her hands wander his body, travelling lower, until she found his grip easing. Only a moment longer did she continue her caresses, and then she pulled free again, causing Elrond to gasp in surprise, but dashing after her almost at once again.
Raindrops began to hit her face more rapidly, but she did not mind, nothing mattered right now. Raising her face towards the advancing water, she slowed, and soon felt Elrond press against her, his hands on her body.
‘The dunes, melethril,’ he whispered throatily, and for a moment she contemplated it seriously, before she remembered the rain.
‘The stables, melethron,’ she offered instead, and he nodded.
Celebrían pushed open the stabledoor and peered inside to ascertain only horses occupied it at present. The thought of going inside to get warm by the fire had been discarded by the both of them almost at once. Elrond began unfastening his cloak with icy fingers, as they stepped inside, and as soon as he dropped the item, Celebrían pushed him back against the stable door, engaging him in an open-mouthed kiss, urgently undoing the fastenings of his tunic. The fabric was wet, and her fingers as cold as Elrond’s, but she persisted, with nothing of her usual carefulness.
Elrond began kissing her neck, while at the same time his fingers tried to uncover more flesh for his lips to caress. He too, found resisting fabric clinging to the wearer, rather than allowing itself to be peeled off.
As Celebrían reached his skin and pressed her warm lips against his chest, he halted, not able to do anything but stare for a moment, allowing her radiance to illuminate his soul, his entire being. Soft bites to his nipples, combined with icy fingers, made a shiver run up his spine, pleasant, only guiding him further into pleasure.
Her silver hair poured over Celebrían’s shoulders in wild rivulets, the rain had caused it to curl even more, and Elrond could not keep from running his hands through it. Long elegant fingers had meanwhile taken to unlacing the front of his breeches; determined tugging movements that caused his breath to speed up considerably.
Bringing his nose to her ear, he inhaled deeply, catching her scent, before bestowing soft kisses on her skin, all the while waiting, too well aware what she was doing.
Having loosened the garment enough, she rested her hands on his hips. Gently he stroked her back, meeting her twinkling eyes as she moved her hands down a little, together with his breeches.
Then she knelt before him, keeping their gazes locked as fingers began playing on the inside of his thigh. Breaking their stare, her agile fingers were joined by lips and tongue, making Elrond gasp and close his eyes, leaning back against the door. Heat rushed though all of his body, and he felt his face redden as his hands stroked her hair, and her ministrations went on, teasing him into readiness.
‘Celebrían...’ Her name rolled off his tongue in a hoarse whisper, insisting, warning. Not that he doubted she knew when it was prudent to cease, but he feared she would continue to the very end, whereas he longed to join with her more than anything in Arda.
Her warmth disappeared, and he felt her rise to her feet, following his body with her own. Almost before opening his eyes, Elrond placed an arm around her waist, turning her around, and pushed her back against the door as fiercely as she had pushed him before.
There was no need for instructions; years of shared experience proved themselves at once: as he moved up her dresses and grabbed a hold of her thigh, lifting her against him, Celebrían firmly enclosed his waist with both legs, forcing him as close as was possible as he held her captive between flesh and wood.
Elrond, his arm still encircling her waist, placed his free hand against the door to keep himself steady, and found her mouth without wavering, as she parted her lips to grant him a deep kiss.
Finally moving his hand down her body, having some trouble slipping it under her soaked clothing, he at last rested it on her thigh before moving on, making her moan against his lips, as her arms tightened around his neck. He found her as ready as he was.
Throwing back her head in abandon as much as she could in her present position, Celebrían clung to him, her silver hair spilling over her shoulders, as his lips meanwhile began to dance over her skin again.
‘Elrond..’
Breathing unsteadily, he looked up at her face.
‘Yes?’
‘Please?’
‘Yes.’
Firmly securing the arm he had still placed around her waist, he pressed himself into her, fleetingly closing his eyes in delight upon entering. A gasp escaped Celebrían’s lips, close to his ear, the stream of warm breath making him shiver in delight.
‘Ah, hervenn...’ Celebrían hooked her legs even more tightly around him, and he pressed against her before searching out her lips in a passionate kiss, giving in to the overwhelming desire to start moving together.
Wet clothing still attached to bodies now in motion caused an additional friction which Elrond found pleasurable, rather than irritating. Celebrían meanwhile directed tenders to his forehead, her hands tangled up in his hair, and then trailed more kisses over the side of his face.
She moved her hips slightly and Elrond hissed sharply to indicate the new position pleased him. He began pressing his lips against her neck, lingering at the superficial indentation just above her collar bone, letting a hand slip down her back to her waist, resting it on her thigh.
And then he drove his hips more forcefully into hers, causing her to arch her back as he quickened his pace, thrusting deeper, fiercely, fully aware this would wear him out before long, but adamant to tempt as many of the voiceless gasps from her lips as he would be able to. He watched her all the while, sweat gleaming on his neck and forehead.
Resting her head back against the door behind her, Celebrían closed her eyes and simply gave in, surrendering to the rapid pace Elrond had set. He needed it, as she knew she did; fast, hard, if only to prove they were both here, alive, together, and that everything was well again between them. Breath unsteady, heart pounding, she let everything flood over her.
Elrond, breathing heavily, could not avert his eyes, her abandoning herself to him only urged him on even further. With a trembling hand he reached for her face and felt her lips press against the palm in reply. Her muscles tightened around him at the same time, coaxing a groan from between his clenched teeth. He in turn pushed up, making her gasp audibly, before claiming her lips mercilessly, meanwhile fiery deep within her.
Pressing her against him, he looked up, finding her eyes opened again, and hungrily kissed her again as she moved her arms around his neck.
‘Tolo an nîn, melethron...’ she whispered against his lips, before seeking out his tongue with her own.
He answered her kiss, then withdrew a little, a smile on his face, and brought his lips to her ear, his tone more seductive than assuring.
‘An le, Celebrían, an le erui...’
Resting his forehead against her shoulder, feeling her arms envelop him protectively, one of her hands resting against the back of his neck, he placed both hands on her waist and resumed movement, knowing the end was near. She met him now, joined in his movement, inciting him to the fullest. Elrond fought it, wishing to prolong, all the same aware it was futile.
It was when her fingers began roving through his hair, slightly pulling, that he yielded, spending himself with a hoarse moan, gripping her thighs firmly, then breathing out and turning, leaning back against the door. He let himself slide down, holding her against him so that they ended up seated on the cold stone floor.
Bring up a hand to touch her face, Elrond laughed breathlessly.
‘An le, meleth-nîn.’
Disentangling herself, Celebrían smiled broadly, then began restoring her clothing before sitting up on her knees to help Elrond to do the same, tenderly adjusting and lacing up his breeches, kissing his lips and settling against him.
Elrond gazed up at the roof, where a small opening, drops of rain still sporadically falling through it, showed the dark sky, filled with stars. Celebrían watched him pensively bite his lower lip as she lay her hand on his chest.
‘Did I hurt you?’ he suddenly whispered, averting his eyes from the sky. She laughed.
‘Any bruises you have caused this eve I shall wear as marks of distinction.’
He kissed her, and then she lay down against him, her head in his lap, a hand stroking his thigh.
After a while, he began stroking her hair, and followed the edge of her ear with precision.
‘I was... worried,’ he whispered. ‘And yes, I felt hurt. It was difficult but possible to cope with Ereinion not speaking of this to me, but Glorfindel departing without leaving even a short message...’ He sighed. ‘It did not help that you began pointing out I should not be acting as I was. At the time I did not realise you were as anxious as I, and that this was precisely what caused the argument to escalate.’
‘I should not have snapped at you,’ Celebrían whispered in reply. ‘The fault lies with me also.’
‘I did not act as I did because I believe they do not love each other…’ Elrond continued, still occupied with her ear, bestowing slow, careful caresses upon it. ‘And I would say it was not because of some ill-fated link to the past either.’ He sighed. ‘You and I, Brí, you and I, even before we were married, you knew me, you had time to realise how utterly inflexible I can be. A long time. She has had no such chance. She has only now learnt of the memories he carries, and only just. She knows what happened in Mordor, she has been taught, like all who were born afterwards have been taught, but he has seen it, like he has seen so much, he was there, he has Mordor inside him, like I shall always carry it with me. Yes, in the early days of their young love, this might prove no obstacle. But then? She is a child of the Blessed Realm, and even though Ereinion seems to be too, on occasion, we both know he is not. His memories brought them together now, but in years to come, it could very well come between them.’
‘Would not love heal his hurt?’
Elrond pondered that silently.
‘Part of it, yes. But Ereinion... He seems determined to deal with his feelings himself. You know he speaks rarely of it with anyone. Do you truly think Briníel would be different? She has not seen death, does not know the fear of... Middle-earth.’ He sighed. ‘How long before he would simply stop speaking to her, because he sensed she did not understand?’
Arms folded, Celebriníel stood before the darkened window, watching lightening far-away against the night sky. Her grandmother had left them some time ago, as was Elwing’s custom when Eärendil sailed the skies.
‘They will be all right?’
An affirmative ‘hmm’ sounded from the darkness behind her, followed by a soothing whisper. ‘There is no need to worry.’
Raising a hand to touch the wooden pane, she nodded.
‘You are probably right. But Naneth went out not looking well, and now with Adar here...’
‘I should think they are quite well, most likely sheltering somewhere. Your father was always good at finding shelters.’
Leaving the window, walking into the darkness, Celebriníel found Ereinion’s shoulder with her hand and sat down beside him.
‘You think he is angry?’
‘I think he might be.’
‘What will happen?’
Letting a long breath escape him, Ereinion caught her hand. From Celebrían’s vague references to what had happened at Imloth, he had understood Elrond suspected, if not already knew of the situation concerning him and Celebriníel.
‘The fact that he did not immediately seek me out to throttle me is a good sign.’
Celebriníel chuckled briefly, then sat silent.
‘Should we wait for their return?’
Rising to his feet, still holding her hand, Ereinion shook his head, hoping her eyes had adjusted enough to the dark to see it.
‘With the weather worsening, they could very well have gone on to the next Teleri settlement. Which would mean they would not be returning until tomorrow. So either we retire, or we attempt to find dry wood and build a campfire outside. This dark room is depressing me.’
Tempted to spend the night on a beach with him, but feeling very well how tired she was, Celebriníel smiled.
‘Is it still raining?’
‘You were at the window last, if I recall.’
She nodded.
‘Then it probably still rains.’
He laughed and raised a hand to her face, causing her to become very quiet.
Even in the darkness he could see her cheeks were aflame and he could not help but smile.
‘Get you to your rooms,’ he spoke softly.
Celebriníel breathed out heavily.
‘Goodnight, Ereinion.’
Chastely kissing her cheek, he squeezed her hand.
‘Goodnight, my sweet.’
Her hand slipped from his, and she climbed the stairs to the floor above, where several bedrooms were situated. He had seen it, her room, a bright place with large windows through which Anar’s first rays would shine brilliantly in the morning, and wake whoever slept there in time for a marvellous sunrise.
For a moment he imagined how it would be, to wake at her side, to see golden rays illuminate silver hair and pale skin. A pleasant thought.
It lighted his way through the darkness as he ascended the stairs to his own room opposite hers.
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Nîn díheno: Forgive me
meld’aran órenyo; ‘beloved lord of my heart’. It comes from a poem written by Björn Fromén, Valinórenna (Celebrían’s Farewell to Elrond) and it can be found at www.forodrim.org/daeron/md_vali.html
Tolo an nîn, melethron…: Come for me, lover…
An le, Celebrían, an le erui…: For you, Celebrían, for you alone…
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