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Elrond's Secret
Maybe
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Part 5

The early months passed like the unrolling of a scroll so long it fell from its herald's fingers and bounced across the floor of time, while Celebrian hastened after it attempting to collect and not lose track of the duties listed on its tumbling page. The days were as packed as the court-scrivener's note book on the day the minor lords gathered to discuss problems or positions with their master. The nights though were peaceful, often spent in Elrond's company alone. He made time for her every evening in those early months, willing to speak freely about the realm and its management time and again while she tried to adjust to its ways and ideals. They made love often, and to her relief he held her close each night as though no distance could possibly estrange them.

Her parents departed for Lorien after the first month of the marriage had concluded, though her father still wrote each seven-day. Thranduil, as it turned out, had not written. But Elrond had decided to contact him. She met with Glorfindel and Erestor to discuss the matter when Elrond summoned them to ask the advice of his councillors and acquaint her with yet another of the roles of the realm. He met them in his study-cum-council chamber, seeming distinctly distracted. He nodded to them when they entered, but continued turning papers up in a methodical search for something.

"Glorfindel, I can't find the trading records from the alliances with the Greenwood," he said at last, breaking off with bewilderment furrowing his brow. "Or come to that the trading agreements with Lothlórien, which I'm sure were answered at the last half century."

Looking at the endless mounds of paper that seemed as high and long as the Misty Mountains, Celebrían wasn't surprised. "My lord I stand amazed that you can keep track of anything with this quantity of records herein contained; be not surprised that something has been lost in the changeover of functions Imladris has performed from the last Age to this. Can you not recall when last you saw them?"

Elrond considered for a moment and then, somewhat stiffly, shook his head.

"My lord," Erestor had crossed to the door to an adjoining chamber and held it open. "The records were shifted about sixty years ago when we were last searching for the originals, which had been mislaid and were required to renegotiate terms for the new Age. The originals and the subsequent years are now kept within a realm-segregated system here, which you yourself suggested, and only the latest transaction kept with your daily influx of parchment."

Elrond stared at him for a moment and then slowly closed his jaw. "Yes, I remember," he said slowly. "Glorfindel, you were sent to King Amd- Amroth to complete the negotiations?"

The seneschal nodded. Elrond turned away, resting his hands on the desk for a moment, his head bowed. "I had forgotten," he said somewhat tensely. "My apologies."

The silence strained out across the room like a bowstring overextended. Erestor stepped quietly into the side room to retrieve the records.

"No apologies, Elrond." It was Glorfindel who moved toward his silent lord and gripped his shoulder. Elrond did not react, his stillness removing him from the seneschal and all others in the room. Glorfindel's other hand reached to touch the lonely left shoulder in an incomplete embrace and his hair slid in a golden curtain across Elrond's back. His voice was almost inaudible as he murmured, "Come on, rainbow, don't do this to yourself." He gave Elrond a gentle shake.

Celebrían stood at the helpless distance of four feet, watching as though she were held at a greater expanse of land and time. The twilight seemed as though it should be closer before Elrond finally straightened and accepted the misplaced documents from Erestor. Though he drew a chair into the half circle to speak with them, he sat apart throughout.

Elrond pulled the trading contracts onto his knees and scanned through them. "All right," he said eventually. "As far as I can remember, supported herein, the direct exchange trade that previously existed between the kings Oropher and Gil-galad, and by extension Imladris, constituted primarily of horses. There are no records so far as I can make out that directly exchanged gemstones or gold."

"How peculiar," Glorfindel remarked, his blue eyes dancing. "Is it not remarkable, my lady, how alike the Sindar and the dwarves are in their habits?"

"Does not usually one abhor in others one's own least pleasing traits? And many profess to dislike those whom they secretly admire?" she countered, glad that someone was trying to break the weight of the silence that still hovered in the room.

"By that assertion Erestor will swear his soul to me in matrimony before the spring tide comes," Glorfindel replied, grinning broadly at the other advisor.

Erestor's supercilious glance only made the Elda laugh the harder.

Elrond raised an eyebrow. "Leaving aside your forthcoming betrothal, Glorfindel, have you anything to add to this discussion?"

"Yes," Glorfindel turned instantly to business without drawing breath. "Oropher claimed that his kingdom's monetary wealth was significantly lower than the kingdoms of Lothlórien, Lindon or the Grey Havens. The Greenwood was founded in approximately the same time period as Lothlórien, give or take a few centuries, and is not considerably younger than Lindon; however, he did have a point. He obviously didn´t have the initial trade resources of Lindon and Ereigon, and that later Lothlórien found in gem crafts, nor the pearl trade the Grey Havens boasted alongside its fisheries. In short, as you know, Oropher declined to directly trade in gold or gemstones."

Elrond nodded and Erestor continued where Glorfindel had left off. "As a result the exchanges were non-direct: the purchase of jewellery for gold occurred, although that formed only about ten percent of the trading contracts. There was, however, at least forty percent exchange of wooden weapons, bows, spears, lances and standards for knives, swords and metal arrowheads in place of flint. Leaving aside, for the moment – unless you wish it recounted, my lord, - the seven percent miscellaneous interchanges," Elrond shook his head, "Then the dominant trade was horses."

Elrond nodded. "Lindon's breeding programmes were centred around war horses and chargers, as was by default Imladris's. The Greenwood provided, I believe, the ladies' riding horses and numerous brood mares to provide new stock for the bloodlines."

"Yes, although," Glorfindel added with a gentle glance in Elrond's direction to soften his words, "The primary stock provided was courier horses – the Greenwood bred for speed and endurance, which was invaluable in carrying correspondences long distance, and provided a suitable basis of exchange based on similar value for the chargers of Lindon."

Elrond sighed at himself. "Yes, you are quite right, Glorfindel." He looked down at the trading agreements again, scanning the now unfamiliar script. Celebrían looked over his shoulder, somewhat surprised at his inability to keep track of such things. She thought, with a frown, of the man who had wandered the great woods of Lothlórien with her during a visit with Gil-galad's company in the Second Age and the early days of her acquaintance with Elrond. Of the history of his family he had spoken, and of the stories behind the old ballads and lays, recounting centuries of tales. His memory was faultless, she had thought; if the entirety of the history of the world could be known by one elf, it would be him.

After a few moments Elrond passed the agreements into her hands and looked back at his councillors. "The negotiations regarding actual war time alliances are negligible, which explains," he added with a frown, "the lax commitment and dithering that occurred during the preparations for the Last Alliance." He fell silent for a moment, his mind straying to other times, before rousing himself with a slight shake of his head.

"If I may," Erestor interjected, "Given the distance between the kingdoms it was no small surprise that, barring the chronic necessity which obviously was the case with the Alliance, such support would have been of minimal value. Consider how long it took your contingent from Lindon to reach Ereigon during the siege in sixteen ninety-three and the subsequent arrival of the high king's forces to aid you."

Elrond inclined his head. "However, had there been an alliance of that nature it might have been quicker for Oropher to send in a force than Erei- Gil-galad."

Celebrían glanced at him, surprised to hear the high king's forename on his lips. She was aware that he had had one, but never had he been referred to as King Ereinion. Gil-galad was a title both earned and deserved; anything less would have been an insult. Elrond caught her glance but did not hold it; his face was unreadable.

"Perhaps," Erestor acknowledged, "Though given the barrier of the Misty Mountains we cannot be certain of that."

Elrond inclined his head in counter-acknowledgement. "Either way," he continued, "It might well be a viable alliance this time."

"Propose it," Glorfindel suggested. "You are quite right in that it would be valuable, particularly with all the kingdoms so reduced in size. I presume that the weapon crafts trades will be resumed, although with the diversity of population herein, Imladris is beginning to be able to supply itself with the wooden weapons."

"We still excel in metal crafts, as the Greenwood does in wood crafts," Elrond said firmly. "Yes, if Thranduil is willing, that would be a good proposal."

"And the horses?" Celebrían ventured. Her thoughts turned to the rows of velvety muzzles the stable boasted and the many gleaming coated mounts to choose from each time a ride was proposed.

"Our own stock has diversified," Erestor said, nodding with approval. "And interactions with Lothlórien are providing some of the most beautiful riding horses; but I think we still have the upper hand in providing patrol or battle-trained steeds. We remain short on courier horses, which is unfortunate in this time."

"The horses would be most beneficial," Elrond agreed.

"Oh, suggest further trade in gem crafts and gold," Glorfindel said, leaning back in his chair as Erestor continued to take note of the proposals. "He can only say no."

Elrond smiled a little. "Very well. Erestor? Can you have an agreement drafted for me by...the day after tomorrow? I'll write an accompanying letter to Thranduil myself later tonight."

Erestor nodded, still writing.

Glorfindel stretched lazily and then leaned forward, his expression growing serious once again. "If you are going to reopen the communication channels, my lord, which I agree is long overdue, are you going to write to...?"

"Cirdan." Elrond cut him off with the shipwright's name. "No."

"Elrond," Glorfindel reached out to touch his knee, but Elrond rose and stepped away to collect his writing materials. He had, Celebrían knew, more than enough on his desk upstairs. Glorfindel sat back with a sigh, looking steadily at Elrond.

"Not yet," Elrond said finally. He turned to meet Glorfindel's eye and his voice lowered, blurring the divide between command and plea. "Not yet."

Glorfindel's chest rose and fell in a contained sigh. Erestor had paused in his writing and, when Elrond turned away to locate a quill, Celebrían watched the two advisors exchange glances. Glorfindel's aquamarine gaze was one of tolerant understanding; Erestor returned to his work with a frustrated shake of his head.

"All right, Elrond, as you decide," Glorfindel said, resignation weighting his words. "Have you further need of me?"

Elrond shook his head without turning. "No, thank you." He glanced over his shoulder briefly to include them all in that, and handed Erestor the previous agreements between the Greenwood, Lindon and Imladris. "Thank you," he added again, somewhat distractedly.

Craning her neck, Celebrían realised that he held in his hand a seal shaped like a diamond with twelve stars upon it: Lindon's seal. A long pause followed while the others hovered, awaiting further instruction. With a sigh, Elrond laid the seal upon the desk and fished out his own stamp.

"Dismissed," he said, his voice suddenly sharper. "Erestor, I want that agreement in two days; Glorfindel, reports from the midday patrols please; Celebrían, the silk traders are three days behind their date to leave for Lorien – will you please find out what has happened to Lady Galadriel's requested order?"

Erestor rose, still scribbling as he murmured a respectful farewell to Elrond and continued out of the room, leaning his parchment against his palm as he walked. Glorfindel hesitated, waiting for Celebrían to leave. She waved him on and, with a meaningful glance that said as clearly as possible to follow him immediately, he did so.

"My lord?" Celebrían lingered as the door closed behind Glorfindel, wanting a chance to speak alone with Elrond. His distraction, his...distress felt like she had swallowed an ice cube and it had lodged in her throat.

Elrond glanced abruptly at her. The frosts of winter glittered in his silver-grey eyes.

"Yes?"

"Nothing," Celebrían shook her head and turned quickly on her heel. "Nothing," she repeated to herself as she stepped out into the corridor, her arms folded around her to contain a shiver. "It's nothing."

Continued...

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