Celebrían heard Maegwen's voice falter when Thranduil got up and left the banquet hall in the middle of the rather lengthy tribute to Rivendell which they were singing. She was not sure why the King of Mirkwood would do such a rude thing when it was as clear as day that Maegwen liked him… and it had seemed, at least to Celebrían, that Thranduil liked her back. After all, he had proposed. Twice.

To the daughter of Galadriel it was a good sign that the Elvenking had not even hesitated, when learning that his intended was not who he thought she was, at stating for a second time his goal to marry her. It was everyone else who seemed to have trouble with it – first and foremost, her parents, and secondly Lord Elrond and his advisors. This next part troubled her. Not the opinions of Glorfindel and Erestor… she could not have cared less what they thought, but Elrond… if he thought that Thranduil should be marrying her simply because she was the daughter of Galadriel and Celeborn, then he was going to have his thoughts rearranged, soon.

Of course, there was the fact that he was drunk. Even still, for a few moments Celebrían had imagined that she saw some small fascination in his eyes, a return of his interest. She was not terribly surprised when he got up to go after Thranduil, but she had to admit she was somewhat selfishly hurt by it.

To be honest, she was greatly hurt by it… and irritated. She turned towards Maegwen and saw her friends eyes scrunched closed, and knew she was trying to hold back tears of disappointment. Haldir simply lifted one of his arched eyebrows and kept playing. He was doing well, Celebrían thought. He was not bothered by any of the drama, so it did not affect his performance. Of course, she thought as she looked at her father, Haldir had his own drama to contend with. She doubted that Celeborn even knew Thranduil and Elrond had left, so raptly was he staring at the young Galadhrim, like a dog eyeing a juicy bone. Her stomach turned slightly. It would have bothered her less if Haldir had returned his interest, she supposed. Mother certainly did not seem to mind.

Why did she not? Celebrían wondered if she herself would ever be able to accept such a wandering eye in a mate. Somehow she thought not. Or perhaps Maegwen had spoiled her, having been ever faithful as both friend and more to her, all of her life. A bitterness began to fill her, and as they reached the end of the song and Maegwen's voice trailed away, Celebrían motioned to Haldir that he should repeat the tune. He frowned, but did as she bade him. Maegwen opened her eyes to stare at Celebrían as the daughter of Galadriel continued to sing, composing her own verse as she went along.

In Rivendell
The elves know well
Their Lord is no plain fool
And yet I've read
Same can't be said
Of Elvenking Thranduil

Haldir let out a snicker, and Celebrían gave him a cold look which dared him to stop playing. He went on, playing in perfect harmony with her. Maegwen's large eyes simply grew rounder and her own determination began to match Celebrían's. She took the next verse, composing it on the spot just as easily.

Elrond is bold
If rather old
And though he serves nice food
His guests don't know
What made him go
And act completely rude

Lord Glorfindel was apparently listening, because at this point he spit a mouthful of wine out so that it sprayed the table as well as Erestor. Erestor barely noticed his dousing as he sat there looking mortified, his mouth open, staring at the two maids. Galadriel frowned at Celebrían, but she only lifted her chin and went on to make up another verse. Celeborn chuckled as his daughter went on.

Our lords did leave
It makes us grieve
To think they lack in class
Next time, I fear
That they draw near
I'll kick them in the—

"Celebrían!" Galadriel snapped, drowning out the last word. "I think that is enough. Lord Erestor, Lord Glorfindel, please accept my apologies."

Celebrían stopped playing, and Haldir followed suit. His cheeks and ears turned red. He bowed slightly towards Galadriel. Maegwen reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing slightly.

"You did make me feel better," she whispered. That was all that mattered to Celebrían, even if she was in trouble now.

"Perhaps we should apologize to you," Erestor said, though he still looked mortified. "After all, Lord Elrond—"

"I am right here, Erestor," Elrond said from the doorway.

"How long has he been standing there?" Celebrían hissed.

"Since the first verse," Haldir said, looking up at her with a wicked glint in his eyes, but then he glanced nervously at her parents. Celeborn motioned him over, and still clutching his harp in front of him, Haldir went.

"I am deeply embarrassed, Lord Elrond," Galadriel said.

"The fault is entirely mine," Elrond said smoothly. "I should not have departed so abruptly, but I wished to make sure that Thranduil was…well."

"Of course you did," said Galadriel.

Celebrían looked at him, but he was looking at her mother. Her heart skipped a beat. He was still too regal, too handsome, too strong and noble looking and had not Maegwen needed the…silliness… so badly, Celebrían would have felt ashamed at what she had instigated.

She flashed back on the sight of him in the heated spring bathing pool. Her breath caught in her throat. She could almost forgive him for leaving, since he had so obviously gone after Thranduil, the one who was truly at fault… and he had returned.

Celebrían let go of Maegwen's hand, left her harp and went and bowed low in front of Elrond, giving him an optimum view of her cleavage. She glanced up, but to her irritation he did not seem to have noticed this gift. Still, when she straightened up she addressed him in a demure tone.

"I will not offer my apologies," she said in a sweet tone, "But only because Thranduil has so deeply offended me. I think everyone here must put a match between us out of their heads."

"I wish you would not speak so hastily, Lady Celebrían," Lord Elrond said in a patient tone. "Thranduil meant no insult. He is simply passionate at times. Passion is a good quality in a king."

"And in a husband as well," Maegwen said. She had crept forward behind Celebrían. "Lord Elrond, I am the one who should apologize. My lady would not wish to offend you, in any way. Yet we have had quite a long journey and she is no doubt in need of rest. Would you perhaps be so kind as to escort her back to her chamber?"

Celebrían's eyes rounded. Maegwen was being bold beyond measure, and she knew it was to help Celebrían steal a moment alone with Elrond. This was just another proof of the bond between them, and Celebrían's heart surged with love for the unselfish maid.

"Would you mind terribly, my lord?" Celebrían asked. "I do suddenly feel a little faint." She slipped up next to Elrond and took his arm, and he had no choice but to support her. Celebrían looked over at Maegwen and winked. She hoped that no one would interrupt this little charade, but luckily both of her parents were distracted.

"My husband can certainly escort Celebrían back to her chamber," Galadriel sighed, looking at the two of them in exasperation. It was odd for her mother to become ruffled. Galadriel was always so calm. Celebrían felt besieged with guilt, but she did not let go of Elrond's arm.

"It is no trouble," said Elrond. "In fact, it would be an honor. Maegwen, will you join us?"

"I…" Celebrían watched as Maegwen tried to think of an excuse not to join them.

"I would have you see that Haldir carries the harps back, Maegwen," she said quickly.

"Oh, yes, I shall do that. And Haldir can escort me back. I shall see you in the room presently."

"Lady Galadriel, will you excuse us?" Elrond asked her.

Galadriel nodded and turned back to her husband, who had his hand on Haldir's chin and was speaking to him in a low voice. What he was saying, Celebrían could not hear. She remembered her promise to protect the young elf from her father's advances and wondered if she would be wise to leave them this way. Would Maegwen be able to keep Haldir from Celeborn's clutches?

"Maegwen—be sure to look after him. I made him a promise," she said in a soft urgent tone.

"For your sake, I will," Maegwen replied. She turned and went over to Haldir, asking him in a loud voice to help her with Celebrían's harp. Mentally Celebrían crossed her fingers for him and turned to look at Elrond.

"What sort of promise did you make to him?" he asked.

"I do not know that I should speak of such things to you."

"Is Haldir your lover? Because I doubt that Thranduil would appreciate a wife who has traveled too many paths before he arrives at her door."

Celebrían's temper flared, and she nearly let go of Elrond's arm. "First of all, I do not desire Thranduil, and if I thought lying with Haldir would discourage him I very well might. But Haldir is as pure as I am and my promise involved keeping him from the machinations of my father."

Elrond's mouth twisted slightly, as if this amused him. "Ah."

"Are you still drunk?" Celebrían squinted at him.

"I do not know that I should speak of such things to you."

"Oh!"

"Lord Glorfindel!" Elrond still held her arm, but he called to his War Councilor, who hurried over. Glorfindel still looked a bit drunk himself, and his eyes were alight with merriment. Clearly he had found the whole evening amusing indeed. "Would you be so kind as to see that Lord Celeborn does not escort Mistress Maegwen and Master Haldir back to their chambers?"

"My pleasure," said Glorfindel. He looked as if he wished to say a great deal more, but he glanced at Celebrían, bowed slightly and sauntered off.

"Now then, my lady," Elrond said. He turned and began leading her towards the door. "I hope that should set your mind at rest."

"Why did you do that?" Celebrían asked, feeling humbled.

"Because you wished it. And as a host, it is my duty to see to the safety and comfort of my guests."

"Haldir is my friend," Celebrían said, "And I do not wish to see him violated by my father against his will. But you owe him nothing, and so I am grateful. I know he is of little station or consequence to you, and that my father's goodwill is like to have greater worth."

Elrond simply nodded. She knew he was probably uncomfortable discussing her father's liaisons with her, so she did not continue. For a few moments they strolled in silence down the corridor, and her undeniable affection for him returned.

"Your home is beautiful," she ventured after a few moments.

"Thank you. I am glad it pleases you, my lady."

She went on to ask him about the architecture, a painting they passed, the marble banisters, and found that he loved to discourse on these things. She listened with rapt attention as he went on and on. They did not rush, but all too soon they found themselves back in front of her door. He let go of her arm and moved to open the door for her.

"Would you like to come in?" she asked hopefully.

He lifted an eyebrow. "What for, my dear? I thought you were tired."

"Our conversation is not finished. And you have revived me."

"I have enjoyed it as well. And I suspect it may never be finished."

Elrond leaned closer to her and Celebrían thought for a moment he was going to kiss her. How badly she wanted that! Yet then abruptly he straightened and looked down at her with a fathomless grey gaze.

"Will you come visit me in Mirkwood when I am wed to Thranduil?" she asked, unable to hide the irritation in her tone.

"I am glad you have changed your mind and wish to consider him," Elrond replied just as sarcastically.

Celebrían threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. He swept her up in his own embrace and kissed her back, taking over the kiss masterfully. He invaded her mouth, sought out her tongue, swirled his own around it. She sighed against his lips. It was everything she had imagined it would be. More. She ached with excitement. She knew then, that there would never be an other male for her but him.

Finally, hesitantly, he let her go. Guilt flashed through his eyes, chased by desire. He opened his mouth to speak, and she knew she would not like what he was going to say, so she kissed him again. He did not resist. His hands roamed over her back, warm on the exposed flesh of her shoulders above her gown. When at last they broke apart for the second time, he shook his head slightly.

"What are you doing to me, Celebrían?"

"I am going after what I desire. I would choose my own husband, Elrond."

"I would make no maid a good husband."

"You sell yourself short," she said, but there was obvious disappointment in her tone.

"Thranduil—"

"Speak to me not of Thranduil. Not tonight. Let me think that what passed between us might hold some small meaning for you."

"More than a small amount," he said. He turned then to leave her and she watched him walk down the hallway, tall and proud. After a few steps, he turned back to her. "And in answer to your question, I am perfectly sober. The wine wore off even before your musical tribute to me."

She laughed. "I will not ask your forgiveness for that."

"I know," he said, smiling warmly at her. "Good night, my Celebrían."

She turned and entered her room, closing the door behind her quietly. His Celebrían! Yes, progress had been made, indeed.