Elrond II awoke the next morning with a smile of perfect happiness on his lips. An early morning breeze had tickled the elfÂ’s face just enough to rouse him; he smiled cheerily as he sat up and stretched. Today was already shaping up to be a good day, and the memory of last nightÂ’s sweet dream only improved the matter. Life was beautiful.

The sky was a hazy grey-blue shade, hinting that dawn was still a short way off. Elrond II tiptoed down the spiraling stairway to the ground, and reveled in the feeling of cool, dew-dampened grass beneath his bare feet. He smiled up at the far-away, radiant light that was Eärendil’s star, and his father (quite literally) beamed lovingly back at him.

“You’re up early,” said a soft, familiar feminine voice from behind him.

Elrond II turned, smiling and nodding his head courteously to Celebrían. “So are you,” he laughed.

Celebrían laughed as well, sending the half-elf into a state of silent ecstasy. How he loved that sound! Her given name may have included ‘silver’, but her laughter was pure gold, as bright and as rich as the leaves of any mallorn. It tinkled gladly into his ears like the sound of falling rain, making his heart ripple with bliss.

Is this love? the half-elf wondered to himself. It must have been – if his godfather was as trustworthy now as he had always been, then Elrond II and Celebrían were predestined to be together forever. He certainly wasn’t objecting to the arrangement, not in the least.

Celebrían wordlessly studied the young elf-lord’s face, as casually as possible. There was just something about him that made her heart thrash against her ribs, sending hot and cold shudders coursing through her. Every time she met his soft, kind eyes, she forgot exactly where she was…

Before either of them realized it, they were moving closer and closer to each otherÂ… their eyes were locked, each pair of pale sky-blue orbs pulling tenderly at the otherÂ… the earth stood still for a moment, just for the two of themÂ…

In that instant, neither of them were quite certain what happened next, but a moment later Celebrían was halfway into a kneeling position, she and Elrond II were holding tightly to one another, and the silver-haired maiden was laughing somewhat self-consciously as she allowed the half-elf to help her upright.

“I’m terribly sorry,” she apologized, her eyes dancing with an odd light, “it was my fault, honestly. I should have been watching my step; this dress is a little longer than the ones I normally wear. I should really try to shorten it…”

“Not a problem, my lady, not a problem at all,” Elrond II replied amiably.

Celebrían gave another chuckle as she looked down at the skirt which all but hid her bare feet. “Well, so much for the ‘natural grace’ of our kindred.” She toed the grass diffidently with her right foot.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Elrond II smiled. “I’ve known a number of accident-prone elves in my time, not the least of which is myself. Just ask Maglor or my godfather, they would be happy to tell you all about my misadventures.”

“You’re just saying that,” the maiden blushed, turning her face demurely away from him.

“I beg to differ, milady,” a male voice chortled.

Elrond II raised an eyebrow as he turned to the speaker. “Very well, Maglor, speak your piece.”

The lord of Mithlond nodded to the two other elves before he spoke again. “What Elrond says is absolutely true. I couldn’t tell you much about his infancy years, but onward from the age of four, I know for a fact he was a complete scoundrel. He and his twin brother, Elros – thick as thieves, the pair of them.” Maglor laughed in fond nostalgia. “They never spent so much as ten minutes separately; they were always within five feet of each other. Always.”

Elrond II nodded in agreement, feeling tears of bittersweet reminiscence stab at his eyes. He brushed his sleeve hastily across his face, glancing to his left as Celebrían laid a soft, sympathetic hand upon his shoulder. At the kindness of this gesture, he couldn’t help but smile.

From a platform high above, three pairs of blue eyes watched the entire scene. The owner of one pair turned to his nearest comrade, sighing, “How will this work out? He’s going to fall in love with her sooner or later, if he hasn’t already started to, and then he’ll want to court her…”

“Is that not a good thing?” asked the second observer, tucking a lock of silver hair behind his ear as he frowned at his friend.

“Well, yes,” the first watcher – Elrond the First – admitted hesitantly. “But it means he’ll have to travel here sometimes, and as Lord Mandos told me, my godson and I can never be any more than five miles apart. I really don’t want to have to tag along all the time. It would look peculiar if I followed him every single time he left Rivendell. I’ve had wholly legitimate excuses all the time before, but this is important.”

The second figure – Lórien – nodded pensively. “It is a dilemma, and my brother’s words are true. I am not certain what would occur, were you to surpass the maximum, but I can assume it would be catastrophic.” He smiled reassuringly, much to Elrond I’s surprise. “I also believe that we can triumph over it.”

“How, sire?” wondered the third observer, her eyebrows quirking.

Lórien’s eyes danced in the radiance of daybreak as he addressed her. “Do you remember how I halted your son’s untimely end during the months in which he worked on building Vingilot with Eärendil?”

The woman, Elwing, only had to think for a moment. “You brought my babies and I with you, when you followed him secretly to Balar…”

“Precisely,” the Dream-lord declared. “And the very same thing can be done for you now in this time and place,” he added, turning toward Elrond I. “I can transport you here after your other half, at a safe distance.”

Elrond I smiled confidently. “It sounds like it could work.”

Lórien nodded, and all at once gave a cheerful laugh. “It is ironic, isn’t it? Time is folding over upon itself! In the midst of your past being repeated, your past is, well…”

“Being repeated?” Elrond I grinned, finishing the sentence for him.

“Precisely!”

Their merriment echoed joyously out and downward, cascading like a waterfall of sound, into the ears of the elves standing below. All three looked up, trying to discern who it was that had just laughed. But the treetop platform was too high for any of them to see onto it. The three friends shrugged absently, and turned back to their conversation just as though it hadnÂ’t been interrupted.

“I’m going to be sorry to leave this place,” Elrond II lamented to Celebrían. “Your home is beautiful.”

“Then by all means, stay for as long as you wish to,” the maiden replied invitingly. “My parents wouldn’t mind in the least.”

“I couldn’t,” the half-elf sighed regretfully. “I have a city of my own to keep. Believe me, if I could stay, I would.”

High above their heads, Elrond I frowned impatiently as he observed what was going on. He crept toward the edge of the platform as he muttered anxiously under his breath, even though he knew his godson wouldnÂ’t be able to hear his voice from that distance. But he knew Elrond II would hear his thoughts.

“Come on,” he urged, both aloud and silently, “invite her to come to Imladris…”

Lórien and Elwing both grabbed the elf-lord’s collar as he threatened to plunge headfirst from the dais; half of his torso was above several feet of empty air. Elrond I inched back a little, but still murmured to his other half in an insistent undertone. “I’m sure she’d love to visit you sometime…”

Elrond II caught his godfatherÂ’s thoughts, smiling quietly as they echoed in his mind. He decided to take the hints he was given.

“You’re more than welcome to come to Imladris any time you wish to,” he told Celebrían cheerily. “Consider yourself invited once and for all.”

She smiled, instantly warming up to the proposal. “I’d like that very much.”

Elrond I grinned victoriously as he heard his other halfÂ’s thoughts reverberating with this triumph. Things were already beginning to fall into place. The whole matter was working out far better than he had expected. What could possibly go wrong now?

Lórien forcibly suppressed a shudder as he unwittingly heard the elf’s last thought. More things would soon be going wrong than even the Dream-lord himself knew of. Every bed of roses had its thorns.

It took a few more days for the festivities to wind down. Elrond, Elwing and Maglor were among the last guests to take their leave; it was with no great alacrity that they set out for their homes. Their horses were saddled, bridled and laden with provisions lent to them by Galadriel and Celeborn, who, along with Celebrían, had come to bid the trio of travelers a fond farewell.

“Vanya sulië,” (Fair winds) said Celeborn graciously, “until next we meet.”

“Aa’ lasser en lle coia orn n’omenta gurtha,” (May the leaves of your life-tree never turn brown) Elrond I replied kindly. “Thank you again for your most excellent hospitality, my lord.”

The two lords shared a fleeting, friendly smile, and they nodded to each other as the three departing comrades gently urged their horses forth, waving and calling out last goodbyes over their shoulders. Elrond II was quite surprised, yet gratified when Celebrían blew him a kiss; he “caught” it and pressed his fingers to his lips before returning the gesture with a slightly mischievous smile.

They soon rode around a bend and out of the trees, leaving Lothlórien’s green and golden halls shining in their wake.

Mandos silently paced the corridors of Rivendell, looking neither to the left, nor the right, but only straight ahead as he walked. He had a single purpose in his mind: to summon the other Valar and Elrond for what would be their third gathering of congress, no less urgent or dismal than the previous two.

This was happening far too much.

Sixteen places were set for the fifteen councilors; Elrond I’s bedroom had yet again been cleared to make room. The Doomsman moved to his customary chair between Oromë and Lórien, and remained standing when the others sat. He spoke when Manwë nodded once.

“Once again, my kindred, we find ourselves assembled in the hopes of diverting tragedy,” Mandos said with surprising calm in his deep voice. “The strength of Morgoth’s dark will has multiplied against Elrond, more so than ever before.

“I have called you here now not only to tell you of the Enemy’s plans, but also to assign wholly critical tasks to a select few of you. One of you needs not begin his duties until a much later date, but it would be for the best to address all three of you now. Aulë, Oromë, and Irmo…” the Doomsman nodded to each Vala in turn, “…I shall convene with you in private tonight.”

The Smith, the Huntsman and the Lord of Dreams all nodded their consent, although they knew they had little choice to defy their kinsmanÂ’s verdict. Satisfied, Mandos turned back to the general congregation, who until that point had been muttering amongst themselves. Now they gazed at the Doomsman in a captivated silence, not wanting to miss so much as a word.

“On the subject of our enemy,” Mandos continued, “I must inform you of his most recent contrivances. His greatest servant has been cast out into the Void, and half of his attacks are now spent. Morgoth knows full well that his chances of destroying Elrond are steadily slimming, so he has decided that he will, sometime soon, invoke his Element all the more deeply.”

Elrond I stiffened at the last words. The ElementÂ… he remembered something about that: the power of Darkness, spread out across the earth, concentrated in certain substances. He recalled at least one of those to be goldÂ… the primary component of most of the Rings of Power.

Like the one he now wore on his right ring finger.

But Sauron was destroyed, insisted a new voice in his thoughts. The Rings have no power anymore! That canÂ’t be true!

But MandosÂ’ words were always true.

The half-elfÂ’s insides writhed with the tension of the conflict. What was there to be certain about? Was the Element going to be called upon or not? What was right, and what was wrong? Truth and falsities bled into one another, confusing his sense of reason into a sultry fog.

The next voice was resonant and calm, cooling the hot vapor of his brain; but the comfort it offered was much too frigid to placate him, and he was plunged instead deep into an icy fear.

*Sauron has been destroyed, truly, but his might lingers, for it is a copy of his Master’s. The Element runs through all the veins of the world, and into that of which many things are wrought. You were correct in your first thoughts – Narya, too, is connected to this power, and so is Aiglos.*

*But I thought I was supposed to use Aiglos to battle Morgoth!* cried Elrond, turning to look at the Doomsman. *How can I possibly use his own power against him?*

MandosÂ’ reply was only three words long: *You will see.*