White Rose
Title: White Rose
Author: Kellan Brodie
Fandom: JRR Tolkien
Beta: Alcie
Characters: Glorfindel, Elrond, Celebrían
Prompt: Love, 50_darkfics
Word Count: 1400
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, but they are fun to play with.
Author Note: You can find my table here. All stories in the table relate to this one, they are merely out of order at present.
---
Glorfindel entered the chamber without knocking. Inside, the Lady prepared her bags, carefully choosing what she would take and what she would leave behind. His jaw was clenched and he came to stand very close behind her.
"All joy cannot be gone."
Celebrían looked up from her packing, her eyes dull and bottomless, full of ever-present pain. "Of course it can be. There is nothing that binds me here. What joys I found were taken from me that day."
"And you turn your back on husband, children, friends?" he asked her accusingly.
She smiled beautifully, the expression full of sad serenity. "Even deep loves of the heart, Glorfindel."
For the first time in many, many years, his eyes shimmered. She was what kept him sane. She was the one who loved him. Who else in all of Imladris loved him without conditions or expectations? She defended him, even protected him at times, and now, this shining woman... this ideal he had known for so many centuries... she would not be here come nightfall.
"Please," he said with a thick voice. "Please don't do this."
Her cool hand -- they were always cool now, like all heat and passion had been drained from her -- rested on his cheek. "I have to. This isn't doing me, or anyone else, any favours. All it does is prolong the inevitable. Glorfindel, there are times you must let go."
He did something then he had never allowed himself to do. Glorfindel wrapped his arms around Elrond's wife and held her tightly to his body. He buried his face in her fragrant hair and allowed memory to assail him.
The Elf woman was sprawled out on the green grass that was found surrounding the house. The valley was lush, and she was idly reading, her feet bare, her white dress spotted with the stains of the grass. She looked up from her book to see him staring. He knew who she was and glanced away quickly.
"Glorfindel!" she called, beckoning, and he joined her in that vale, surrounded by roses and daisies.
Her arms slipped around him, holding him close to her, humming softly. "All pains pass. Even this one will. In time, we will meet again. I know we will."
"Who will be here to duel with Elrond when I am backed into a corner, my lady?" he asked her into her silver hair. "Who will rescue me from the darkness of imprisonment? Who will understand..."
Celebrían smiled, kissing his temple. "There will be others, if you allow there to be."
He nodded, pulling away from her, hands lingering on her waist. "You know I'll never do that."
She brushed away locks of his golden hair, her face dark and troubled. "I know, golden one. I know."
When his duties permitted, he watched her. The Lady of the Golden Wood's daughter was a wild spirit, one that would not be tamed by marriage or motherhood. Celebrían would spend hours dancing in the rain, running through the halls laughing, or tossing a berry at her husband's severe countenance.
Glorfindel absolutely adored her.
They held hands, bowed their heads and shared thoughts, specific thoughts. Eyes blazed silver, saw not the room, but what the other offered. It was a parting gift, something they had never done, and Celebrían was the one to draw away first. Her blue eyes shone bright with tears, the blue-silver made ever deeper by them.
"I love you, too. My confidante. My friend. My ally." She kissed him again, a brush of lips, but it was all innocent and chaste. Never had there been passion between them, and neither wanted that. What they had need from each other had been understanding, and they had found it.
"You will be missed. The Bruinen will weep for the loss of your laughter. The willows will tremble with their sorrow. The very grass will never be quite as green," he replied in a low, quiet voice. "My days will be less because you will no longer be a part of them."
Late at night, by the fire in her bower, he would sit and watch her rock and knit. They would speak of the past. Of choices made. Of regrets remembered. And always, when they would talk and she would favour him with a glance, he could see such deep mysteries in her eyes. Faith in what was not seen, not said.
Firelight dancing on fair features, she would sing, calming his tattered and abused spirit. She offered him respite, something he almost never had in Imladris. Her gentleness tempered Elrond's ire. Her quietness tempered Glorfindel's fire. And her mildness would soothe the worst of trespasses between Elf and Half-elf.
She was Glorfindel's champion as surely as he had once been Gondolin's.
The rains poured outside his windows.
As he had said, the days were muted and drab without the light of Imladris' white rose to flit from damp hall to damp hall. He lay on his side on his bed, staring out at the sheets of water that fell. All duties had been put aside this day to mourn the sailing of Elrond's wife.
His door opened without a knock and Elrond strode in.
"Enjoying the dreary day?" Elrond demanded coldly.
"Oh yes, my lord. Rain always brings out the best in me," he replied without standing, or even turning around to face the Half-elf.
Elrond scoffed. "She wasn't even your wife."
"No, she was yours. So tell me why you are here goading me instead of pining for her." Glorfindel turned tired eyes to Elrond. "Did she mean more to your lowly servant than she did to her husband?"
The Half-elf glared at him. "She told me to give you something. I promised I would. If I had my way--"
"I know what you would have if the world revolved around your whims," Glorfindel said, sitting up. "What is it she had to give me through you instead of when she and I last spoke?"
Elrond tossed the package to the bed. "I haven't a clue." He stood there, waiting. Glorfindel know Elrond's curiosity had him, and he slowly -- very, very slowly -- unwrapped the box.
When he opened the rosewood box, his eyes stung as he gazed down at its contents. Nestled on golden velvet was a rose. The opal petals open wide as if begging for more sunlight, its stem and leaves carved from jade. A white rose from the Silver Queen of Imladris.
"Why did she give you that?" Elrond asked, his harsh tone breaking into the warm love that had blossomed in Glorfindel's breast. The voice froze that love, froze the tears, and Glorfindel looked up at Elrond with an impassive face.
"Why white roses?" Glorfindel asked her one day as they walked the gardens. All white roses!
Celebrían cut one from a nearby bush and presented it to Glorfindel. "They means innocence. Purity. They represent the anticipation of happiness. Unity." She met his eyes. "I planted these bushes in this courtyard the day I met you. Remember this was all grass and yellow roses? I had them move the yellow bushes and daisies, and I had them plant bush after bush of white roses for you."
Glorfindel tilted his head curiously. "For me?"
"One day, oh glorified yet tormented hero, you will find happiness and unity. You will rediscover your innocence. You already possess loyalty, even to those who would cause you anguish, and you revere all around you even if most do not know it." She laughed then, tucking the rose into his tunic. "So I give you a garden of hope. Hope for happiness and peace, love-of-my-heart." Then her gaze grew serious. "And, should I ever... go away... you can look at them... you can look at the white roses... and think of me.
"I love you, Glorfindel, not as a lover or a mate, but as so much more than a mere friend. But sometimes... sometimes you must let go... and when we are forced to part, you can have me here, in this garden." She kissed him then, softly on the mouth, then stepped back, blushing. "Ghost of a rose for you, my friend."
"Because she loved me," was his response.
Elrond stared at him with disbelief, then turned on his heel and left the room in silence.
Glorfindel looked down at the rose again. "And because she loves me still."
End
Author: Kellan Brodie
Fandom: JRR Tolkien
Beta: Alcie
Characters: Glorfindel, Elrond, Celebrían
Prompt: Love, 50_darkfics
Word Count: 1400
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, but they are fun to play with.
Author Note: You can find my table here. All stories in the table relate to this one, they are merely out of order at present.
---
Glorfindel entered the chamber without knocking. Inside, the Lady prepared her bags, carefully choosing what she would take and what she would leave behind. His jaw was clenched and he came to stand very close behind her.
"All joy cannot be gone."
Celebrían looked up from her packing, her eyes dull and bottomless, full of ever-present pain. "Of course it can be. There is nothing that binds me here. What joys I found were taken from me that day."
"And you turn your back on husband, children, friends?" he asked her accusingly.
She smiled beautifully, the expression full of sad serenity. "Even deep loves of the heart, Glorfindel."
For the first time in many, many years, his eyes shimmered. She was what kept him sane. She was the one who loved him. Who else in all of Imladris loved him without conditions or expectations? She defended him, even protected him at times, and now, this shining woman... this ideal he had known for so many centuries... she would not be here come nightfall.
"Please," he said with a thick voice. "Please don't do this."
Her cool hand -- they were always cool now, like all heat and passion had been drained from her -- rested on his cheek. "I have to. This isn't doing me, or anyone else, any favours. All it does is prolong the inevitable. Glorfindel, there are times you must let go."
He did something then he had never allowed himself to do. Glorfindel wrapped his arms around Elrond's wife and held her tightly to his body. He buried his face in her fragrant hair and allowed memory to assail him.
The Elf woman was sprawled out on the green grass that was found surrounding the house. The valley was lush, and she was idly reading, her feet bare, her white dress spotted with the stains of the grass. She looked up from her book to see him staring. He knew who she was and glanced away quickly.
"Glorfindel!" she called, beckoning, and he joined her in that vale, surrounded by roses and daisies.
Her arms slipped around him, holding him close to her, humming softly. "All pains pass. Even this one will. In time, we will meet again. I know we will."
"Who will be here to duel with Elrond when I am backed into a corner, my lady?" he asked her into her silver hair. "Who will rescue me from the darkness of imprisonment? Who will understand..."
Celebrían smiled, kissing his temple. "There will be others, if you allow there to be."
He nodded, pulling away from her, hands lingering on her waist. "You know I'll never do that."
She brushed away locks of his golden hair, her face dark and troubled. "I know, golden one. I know."
When his duties permitted, he watched her. The Lady of the Golden Wood's daughter was a wild spirit, one that would not be tamed by marriage or motherhood. Celebrían would spend hours dancing in the rain, running through the halls laughing, or tossing a berry at her husband's severe countenance.
Glorfindel absolutely adored her.
They held hands, bowed their heads and shared thoughts, specific thoughts. Eyes blazed silver, saw not the room, but what the other offered. It was a parting gift, something they had never done, and Celebrían was the one to draw away first. Her blue eyes shone bright with tears, the blue-silver made ever deeper by them.
"I love you, too. My confidante. My friend. My ally." She kissed him again, a brush of lips, but it was all innocent and chaste. Never had there been passion between them, and neither wanted that. What they had need from each other had been understanding, and they had found it.
"You will be missed. The Bruinen will weep for the loss of your laughter. The willows will tremble with their sorrow. The very grass will never be quite as green," he replied in a low, quiet voice. "My days will be less because you will no longer be a part of them."
Late at night, by the fire in her bower, he would sit and watch her rock and knit. They would speak of the past. Of choices made. Of regrets remembered. And always, when they would talk and she would favour him with a glance, he could see such deep mysteries in her eyes. Faith in what was not seen, not said.
Firelight dancing on fair features, she would sing, calming his tattered and abused spirit. She offered him respite, something he almost never had in Imladris. Her gentleness tempered Elrond's ire. Her quietness tempered Glorfindel's fire. And her mildness would soothe the worst of trespasses between Elf and Half-elf.
She was Glorfindel's champion as surely as he had once been Gondolin's.
The rains poured outside his windows.
As he had said, the days were muted and drab without the light of Imladris' white rose to flit from damp hall to damp hall. He lay on his side on his bed, staring out at the sheets of water that fell. All duties had been put aside this day to mourn the sailing of Elrond's wife.
His door opened without a knock and Elrond strode in.
"Enjoying the dreary day?" Elrond demanded coldly.
"Oh yes, my lord. Rain always brings out the best in me," he replied without standing, or even turning around to face the Half-elf.
Elrond scoffed. "She wasn't even your wife."
"No, she was yours. So tell me why you are here goading me instead of pining for her." Glorfindel turned tired eyes to Elrond. "Did she mean more to your lowly servant than she did to her husband?"
The Half-elf glared at him. "She told me to give you something. I promised I would. If I had my way--"
"I know what you would have if the world revolved around your whims," Glorfindel said, sitting up. "What is it she had to give me through you instead of when she and I last spoke?"
Elrond tossed the package to the bed. "I haven't a clue." He stood there, waiting. Glorfindel know Elrond's curiosity had him, and he slowly -- very, very slowly -- unwrapped the box.
When he opened the rosewood box, his eyes stung as he gazed down at its contents. Nestled on golden velvet was a rose. The opal petals open wide as if begging for more sunlight, its stem and leaves carved from jade. A white rose from the Silver Queen of Imladris.
"Why did she give you that?" Elrond asked, his harsh tone breaking into the warm love that had blossomed in Glorfindel's breast. The voice froze that love, froze the tears, and Glorfindel looked up at Elrond with an impassive face.
"Why white roses?" Glorfindel asked her one day as they walked the gardens. All white roses!
Celebrían cut one from a nearby bush and presented it to Glorfindel. "They means innocence. Purity. They represent the anticipation of happiness. Unity." She met his eyes. "I planted these bushes in this courtyard the day I met you. Remember this was all grass and yellow roses? I had them move the yellow bushes and daisies, and I had them plant bush after bush of white roses for you."
Glorfindel tilted his head curiously. "For me?"
"One day, oh glorified yet tormented hero, you will find happiness and unity. You will rediscover your innocence. You already possess loyalty, even to those who would cause you anguish, and you revere all around you even if most do not know it." She laughed then, tucking the rose into his tunic. "So I give you a garden of hope. Hope for happiness and peace, love-of-my-heart." Then her gaze grew serious. "And, should I ever... go away... you can look at them... you can look at the white roses... and think of me.
"I love you, Glorfindel, not as a lover or a mate, but as so much more than a mere friend. But sometimes... sometimes you must let go... and when we are forced to part, you can have me here, in this garden." She kissed him then, softly on the mouth, then stepped back, blushing. "Ghost of a rose for you, my friend."
"Because she loved me," was his response.
Elrond stared at him with disbelief, then turned on his heel and left the room in silence.
Glorfindel looked down at the rose again. "And because she loves me still."
End