23. Father of the Bride
I decide I cannot risk it and I doubt I would get very far anyway since Galadriel is with her, helping her to get ready. I am ready - I am dressed anyway - but I am not ready. How can I ever be ready to give my daughter up?
I wonder, if Celebrían was here, what she would think of this. She would probably tell me to stop thinking on it and be glad that Arwen is happy. Thinking of Celebrían reminds me of my own wedding day. Celeborn conspired with me to see Celebrían before we were allowed...
Elrond wondered for a moment why he was climbing the outside of his own house, rather than walking through the hallways, until he remembered both his future wife and future mother-in-law. He was slightly scared of Galadriel. She had a look on her face that seemed to say 'if you hurt my daughter, I'll hurt you' and looked as if she could carry through with it as well. She had very pointedly shut the door in his face earlier and told him not to come back. So he wasn't going to get to see Celebrían that way.
Celeborn had laughed when Elrond told him what his wife had said. And then he'd suggested an alternative route. Which Elrond, in a fit of madness, had carried out. What he was doing now was dangerous, should he fall, and Celebrían would not be happy if he came to their wedding broken and bruised. The reward of seeing her would justify his efforts, however.
Reaching the window, he pulled himself onto the small ledge, hoping it would hold his weight. Feeling secure - or at least as secure as it was possible to feel when standing on tiptoes, two storeys above the ground - he edged towards the window. When he got close enough to lean over and peer inside he found the curtains were closed. There was not even a crack between them to allow him to see in.
Sighing, and wondering if there was another method he could try, his grip slipped and his precarious position was lost. Unable to stop himself from falling, he was glad there was a flower bed beneath him. Unluckily, he managed to land on a particularly thorny rosebush, which protested by pricking him with its thorns before lowering him to the ground. He let out a cry and caught a glimpse of his bride at the window above before Celeborn rescued him. They spent the next hour picking out all the thorns and trying to clean his clothes, not to mention preparing themselves to face Galadriel's wrath for their antics.
Technically, Celebrían had seen me, rather than the other way round. Perhaps it counted as half bad luck. If I had succeeded would she have died? If I had not tried would she still be here?
I didn't have much time to wonder at what might have been though, for I heard three shrieks, followed by the sound of Galadriel's voice. Elladan, Elrohir and Estel raced past me, shouting for Celeborn. What had his suggestion been this time? I rose to follow my sons and make sure they had not come to any harm. Arwen would certainly not be happy if they had.
Despite the sadness I felt today, I smiled. Nothing had changed.
My discussion is Nic's fic
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