Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings trilogy was written by J. R. R. Tolkien.

I make no monetary profit from this story.

Summary: Celeborn finds three orphaned Elf babies in the Woods.

Authorís note: I did my very best with the Elvish translations!

 

Rating PG

~~~~~~~~

 

BROTHERS OF LÓRIEN 

 

Celeborn made his way back to Lothlòrien. It had not been a very productive day. He had received word that Orcs had been sighted on the borders of the Golden Wood. This was ill news indeed. Celeborn was glad to note he had seen no Orcs. He was not afraid of them by any means, and as long as he drew breath, no vile creatures would come anywhere near his scared homelands.

As he entered the Woods, an eerie feeling overtook him. One he did not like at all. With each step he took the feeling seemed to become worse. Celeborn looked to one side. His eyes widened and his mouth fell at when he saw. He could not bear to look. Two Elves lay fallen. There was no mistaking the use of crude Orc weapons and they had not been subtle. The Lord of Lothlòrien felt anger surge through him like never before. He also sensed the offending Orcs had long since left the scene.

Celeborn dragged the bodies to a small ditch and covered them with leaves and earth. "Istannen sîdh na an," he said softly. {Peace be with you}.

He closed his eyes, and a moment later, they snapped open when he heard a slight rustle. Celeborn drew his bow and went to investigate. The noise emanated from behind a bush. The Elf had discerned that it was not an Orc. A small animal perhaps? Celeborn neared the bush and a strange feeling overcame him. Cautiously he parted the branches and stared at what he saw. Huddled together in a cradle were three Elf babies. Celeborn surmised those he buried were their parents, who had died trying to protect their children. Another surge of anger and sadness coursed through him. The Lord of Lòrien felt he had no choice but to care for their children now. The smallest baby began to cry. Gently, Celeborn took him into his arms and knelt down to the others.

"Istannen naa mae si," he promised. "Amin gewsto ù engwa ta tuluva a' lle."

{You are safe now. I swear no harm will come to you}

He removed his robe. Gently he picked up the other two, amazed at how tiny and light they were and wrapped them in his grey cloak. His arms full, He began to walk back to his talan. He hoped his Lady would take kindly to the three additions. He had a feeling she would.

He could feel the children shivering and not with cold.

"Amin ta malia an istannen," he promised softly.

{I will care for you}

Ever so gently, he set the three babes down on the soft berth and began to create a setting for them. He did not have a cot, but made use of a large wicker basket and lined it with Elven cloth. He obtained one of the many pillows from the berth and set it in the basket, which he set upon a stone table.

Celeborn left the room and returned with a silver carafe of warm milk. He fed the babies one by one. They had not eaten in days, but Celeborn did not begrudge the parents, for it could not be helped. The children supped the milk like there were no more tomorrows, quite a bit of it landing in Celebornís lap and he smiled, continuing to feed them until they had had enough.

He then took the babies to a small basin, filled with water. He waved his hand over it, warming it slightly. Gently, he began to wash the three tiny babes. It was obvious they had not been washed in days either. Silently, Celeborn cursed the Orcs again, though he knew that would do no good now. He checked the babies for rashes and other signs of injury and was relived when he found none. He laughed softly as the babes began to splash the water and himself.

Gently, he dried them and wrapped them in new Elven cloth as he softly placed them in the big basket, grateful they had room to spare. The baby in the middle began to cry.

Carefully, Celeborn picked him up. "I know what grieves you, Little One and I am sorry. Nothing I can give you will replace your loss, but you have my solemn promise that you and your brothers will be cared for."

Celeborn stroked the little oneís head before placing him down with the others. Gently, he covered them up, seeing they were very tired after their ordeal.

The Lord of the Golden Wood sensed his Lady returning and waited patiently for her.

The Lady Galadriel entered the chambers. The first thing Celeborn felt was her sadness.

"Death and despair ..." she said woefully. "Such pain and struggle..."

Celeborn approached her and took her hand. "I felt it as well."

"Two of our kind I sensed slain. Tinùviel of Mirkwood and Tàri of Rivendell ... Such pain..."

Gently, Celeborn wiped tear form her soft, pale cheek. "But all is not lost."

He held her hand and walked with her to the stone table. Carefully, he removed the veil.

Galadriel stared. "This is what I sensed ... life, but so afraid ... so very, very afraid..."

An expression of gentleness came over her features. The Lady of the Wood looked at her Lord and smiled gently, though the smile held sadness. He placed his arms around her.

"Yes," she said. "We must raise them."

* * *

Galadriel played with the two of the babies. The smallest one Celeborn surmised was the youngest. The slightly larger one began to play with Galadrielís golden locks. Celeborn smiled, then saw the child he held the night before crawling toward him. Gently he picked the little one up. With tiny hands, the baby began to grasp his long hair, seemingly fascinated by it. The older Elf chuckled.

"We must name them," he said to his beloved.

"Yes," she said. "We must. That one seems rather taken by you."

The Lord of he Wood smiled as the baby clasped his entire hand around his smallest finger.

Galadriel smiled. "When they become of age, they will become Marchwardens of Lòrien and they will be well trained. I believe they have named themselves."

The Lady of the Wood walked to Celeborn and softly whispered their names in his ear.

"They are beautiful names," he said. " Very well suited."

Galadriel smiled warmly. "And what of this dear one?"

Celeborn held the baby lovingly in his arms. "His name is Haldir."

 

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