A few days later, a message arrived in Imladris addressed to Elrond II. In smooth, elegant cursive, it requested a reunion with the lord of Rivendell and his kinsmen to celebrate the defeat of Sauron. Apparently a similar invitation had been extended to Mithlond a little while earlier, so that both cities would receive the same word at around the same time.

Elrond II immediately brought the message to his godfather and mother, who both agreed wholeheartedly to the idea. Preparations for their departure to Lothlórien were made soon afterward; Erestor, Elrond II’s most trusted advisor, was left in charge of Imladris for the time being, and the two-bodied elf-lord and his mother set out with carefree confidence.

“I wonder what Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel will say when they find out just how Sauron was destroyed forever,” Elwing commented, beaming over at her son as they rode out south and east.

“Who knows?” Elrond I shrugged, eyes twinkling cheerily. “We’ll cross that bridge when it comes.”

Elrond II was silent, his thoughts flittering around in his mind like crazed sparrows. Soon he would meet the love of his life, the woman with whom he would spend eternity. There was nothing in the world that could ruin his good moodÂ… nothing.

Many days later, the wood of Lothlórien came into the travelers’ sight. The first thing the elves noticed was that many of the trees had strange silver bark, rather than that of a more common, mossy grey-brown; their leaves were a bright gold instead of green. The silver and gold trees, named mellyrn for their coloring, seemed almost to glow in the sunlight of midday.

Beaming, Elrond I spurred his mount forward and crossed the threshold, with his godson and mother on either side. The sun filtered down through the woven branches of the trees above, causing the environment to dim slightly, but not very much. A warm, hazy, green-gold glow filled the air around them, and the path they were on was carpeted with golden leaves from the mellyrn.

The travelers slowed their horses as many wood-elves began to approach them, showing themselves between the trees. Each one smiled and nodded warmly as Elrond and Elwing passed them; the elf-lord and his mother returned the gestures cordially. Then three more elves stepped out of the trees, onto the path a good distance ahead of the newcomers.

There were a lord and two ladies side-by-side; the lord and one of his female companions had long silver hair, while the other womanÂ’s locks were bright golden curls. The silver-haired woman appeared to be the youngest of the group (but it was difficult to tell, what with the way elves never aged past the stage of adult maturity). All three were clothed in snowy white.

Elrond and Elwing halted their horses and dismounted, bowing to the lord and ladies who stood before them. The others smiled, nodding their heads in reply.

“Welcome to Lothlórien,” the golden-haired woman greeted them benignly. “I believe we have met before,” she said, nodding to Elrond I and II. “But who might you be, milady?” she asked Elwing.

Elwing smiled and replied, “I am Elwing, daughter of Dior Eluchil. You have indeed met my elder son, Elrond the Second, and his godfather and namesake, Elrond the First.”

The silver-haired lord then spoke, smiling. “It is a great honor to meet you, Lady Elwing. I am Celeborn, the lord of this realm; this is my wife, Galadriel, and our only daughter, Celebrían.” He nodded toward the golden-haired woman and the younger, silver-haired one, respectively.

Celebrían smiled, nodding politely to the newcomers as well. Elrond II couldn’t help but notice the way her calm, sapphire-blue eyes seemed to linger upon him the longest of all. He felt a shiver run its prickly fingers up his backbone. Celebrían… so this was his future wife. She was the most beautiful elleth he had ever seen…

“Come this way,” said Galadriel’s voice, slipping gently into his thoughts. “Let us show you to our city.” She held out her hand to beckon them forward.

Elrond I’s eyes were instantly drawn to the ring adorning her right-hand middle finger: a band wrought of a silvery metal named mithril, and set with a large diamond skillfully cut in a flower-like shape. It was one of the three elven Rings of Power – Nenya, the Ring of Water.

Galadriel noticed the direction of his gaze, and raised an eyebrow fractionally. The half-elf held his own right hand toward her, revealing Narya. The deep crimson ruby set in the gold band glittered almost like an ember.

The lady of the wood smiled calmly, recognizing a kindred spirit and fellow Ring-keeper. She nodded knowingly to Elrond I, then glanced up at the others, turned, and led them in the direction of Caras Galadhon, the City of the Trees.

Caras Galadhon, the city of the elves in the heart of Lothlórien, was every bit as beautiful as Elrond I remembered it to be. A wide, paved path of pale stone ringed a tall green wall of pure foliage, with but one set of gates to the southwest. Beyond these gates lay a lush, green lawn illumined by sunlight.

To one side of the lawn was a tinkling fountain circled by finely-wrought silver lamps, which were unlit now in the blaze of noon. In the middle of the lawn, near the fountain, a group of long tables had been set up, and it seemed that many elves were seated there, patiently awaiting their lord and ladyÂ’s arrival.

Around the lawn grew many silver and gold mallorn trees, yet they were much taller than the ones in the forest outside the wall. Each had stairs built onto them that twined around and up the silvery trunks, and led to large platforms built between the sprawling boughs. To the south stood the largest tree of all, with the most splendid dais; this was the home of Celeborn and Galadriel.

The elves seated at the tables all leapt to their feet when they saw Celeborn and Galadriel approaching, with Celebrían, Elrond and Elwing alongside of them. Galadriel led Elrond and his mother to three empty places, and she and her husband and daughter all took their seats beside them.

The revelry got off to an enthusiastic start. Plates of food were never empty, and goblets of wine nearly overflowed with liquid. Laughter rang joyously out through the air above the cheerful clatter of knives and forks, and the murmurings of various conversations here and there.

Elwing soon found herself to be the focus of constant questioning, but she didnÂ’t take any offense at all from the elvesÂ’ inquisitiveness; in fact, she rather enjoyed it, and answered their questions earnestly.

“…many years ago I lived in the realm of Beleriand, in the havens of Sirion,” she told an ellon who had inquired about her past. “My husband Eärendil and I were the keepers of the city, and we did so alone for some time, until the day Elrond the First arrived with a pair of very esteemed companions.”

Elrond I seemed to become intensely fascinated by his dinner at that moment, at about the same time as his ears began to burn. He forced himself to look up just in time to hear his mother say his name a second time.

“…Master Elrond, thank the Valar, was able to rescue both my children and myself from serious injury.” Elwing laid a hand on Elrond II’s shoulder as she spoke, smiling lovingly over at Elrond I.

The elves seated around them murmured excitedly, many of them casting thrilled glances in Elrond IÂ’s direction. The elder half-elf smiled rather nervously back, his ears quite hot at this point.

“But who were the ‘esteemed guests’ who accompanied you?” an elleth asked Elrond I.

“Ah, yes,” he sighed. “The guests were none other than the lords Lórien and Mandos.”

Startled gasps erupted across every table, and there ensued a strange rippling of the air as several hundred elven heads turned to gaze at a certain half-elf. The intensity of so many sharp blue eyes boring into him made Elrond I squirm silently, even as he fought to keep from showing his emotions.

“Yes,” he went on, forcing a calm smile onto his face to veil his edginess. “I did arrive in Sirion in the company of two of the Valar. They have been comrades of my godson and I ever since then.”

A reverent silence followed as the Lothlórien elves stared at Elrond I in even greater awe than before, if that was even remotely possible. Elrond II gazed at his other half in barely-masked trepidation, wondering silently, *Are you sure that was wise?*

*We canÂ’t do a thing about it now,* his godfather sighed. *I just hope this place doesnÂ’t end up like Sirion.*

*Why?*

*Oh, of course, you wouldn’t remember: you were too young. What I mean is that when I was in Sirion, I faced a great deal of persecution from my peers because of my friendship with Lords Mandos and Lórien. Needless to say, I’m not very eager for history to repeat itself that way.*

Elrond II shuddered inwardly. *I think IÂ’ve felt that memory sometime before.*

Still silent, Celebrían stared at both Elrond I and II in dumbstruck disbelief. Her goblet of wine was completely forgotten, hovering halfway to her lips. Both halves of the elf gazed back at her; six eyes locked, holding eternity in a crystalline instant between them.

After what seemed like an age, yet no time at all, they were able to look away. Celebrían shivered, taking a slow sip of wine to settle her nerves. Elrond I painstakingly examined his fork, not daring to meet his other half’s eye. Elrond II gazed silently at the back of his godfather’s head, frowning as he studied the thoughts churning behind the long strands of raven hair.

Someone cleared his throat, breaking both the silence, and the tension that had built up in that silence. The elves laughed again as the atmosphere lightened, and the festivities went on as though nothing had just happened. But the memories still lingered.

That evening, Elrond and Elwing were asked if they would spend the night in Lothlórien, and maybe even a few more days. Both elves agreed readily, and were given fine lodging.

Lying between her son’s two bodies, waiting to fall asleep, Elwing gazed peacefully up at Eärendil’s star, smiling as her husband’s unwavering light and love poured over her. She could almost hear his sweet voice on the wind, whispering to more people than just her: I love you, my darlings. I’m watching over you. I miss you so much…

A lone tear glistened in the bluish-white starlight as it traced ElwingÂ’s cheek. I miss you too, love. We both do, Elrond and I. I hope your light can reach the Halls of Mandos, for ElrosÂ’ sake.

So do I, Eärendil seemed to sigh. And for all the others whom I cared for and lost. Maybe my light can give them hope, if they can see it.

Strange, Elwing thought, how a silent conversation seemed to have begun. Have you seen everything that has happened here, these past millennia?

I have seen everything. I watched as you and the Valar promised to protect Elrond for as long as the evil assailing him would last. I wept for Elros and Cirdan when they died, and also for Gil-galad and Celebrimbor; though I did not know them, I knew they were good friends of Elrond.

Elwing nodded, just in case her husband could truly see her. Yes. Elrond still misses them all terribly. IÂ’m not sure that anything can fill some of the holes in his two hearts.

Maybe all he needs is time.

Two days later, the celebration was still in full swing. Maglor arrived in Caras Galadhon the morning of the second day; the lord of Mithlond was greeted warmly and personally by Galadriel and Celeborn, just as Elrond and Elwing had been. The half-elf himself met Maglor with a smile and a brotherly hug.

“Good to see you again, mellon nin.”

Maglor couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “It’s only been a week.”

“Seven days can pass extremely slowly sometimes,” said Elrond I, a hint of false reproof in his voice. Then he grinned good-naturedly. “So, how was your first week as the lord of the Grey Havens?”

“Hectic,” the son of Fëanor replied, shaking his head. “But I’m surviving.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Elrond I smiled. “You’re, ah… settling in well?”

“Well enough,” Maglor shrugged. “But Gil-galad’s bedchamber is a little spacious for my taste.”

At the echo of that name they both fell silent, sharing a moment of remembrance of their lost kinsman.

At length Elrond I looked up slowly and said, “There is a time and a place for everything: a time to grieve, and right now, a time to rejoice. Come and join the tyala.” (celebration)