The party arrives in Tirion after a rash act by Elrond results in injury. Elrond meets more of his relatives.
Healer Heal Thyself II
Fourth Age 10, Tirion
Dear Arwen
Praise be to the All-Father. His Majesty Finarfin of Tirion has talked some sense into my uncles and Celebrian. I am no longer required to be shut off like some felon. It is to my regret this has to happen after my attempt to escape resulted in a head-on collision with Thingol's hunting party in the New Tuna Forest outside Tirion. On hindsight, running away from your naneth into some unfamiliar woods was not the brightest idea to occur to me. Hence I am expected to spend another fortnight in the palace of Tirion on Tuna to recover from getting trampled by several elf-horses and Huan the Hound.
Apparently as a sign of goodwill, Thingol extended an invite to Celegorm and the Ambarussa for the stag hunt. Either that or he is giving my uncles Elurin and Elured a chance to prove they are better hunters than the best of the Feanorions. My uncles did not disappoint. I understand from Finarfin that Celegorm is heartbroken after Huan left him for Thingol's great-grandsons. Must be the venison special jerky. In addition, the Feanorion twins were found drunk, stripped to their underpants and bound to a sturdy tree in the Great Square after the night's hunting banquet. Understand from reliable sources that your Sindar grand-uncles are regular tricksters – alas, it would seem that this is an affliction of sorts for Elven twins. Ada Maglor swears Elros and I drove him and Uncle Maedhros to distraction with our pranks and they packed us off to Gil-galad's so that he would have to deal with us instead of them. Fine, I was a bit of a scamp back in the First Age, but the itching powder pants prank was Elros' idea. So was the bucket of snow and the laxative soup. My special recipe did purge your bowels, didn't it?
His Majesty Finarfin has granted me the use of the best guestroom in the palace – I must admit the city is fair in the moonlight. Sunlight is a bit harsh on my eyes after a week of enforced darkness, but it should pass. I am in no condition for a stroll along the streets. Two broken ankles can make walking awkward. I wish I can convey the scale of the beauty of Tirion to you but words fail me. I would say it is to Minas Tirith what a mountain is to a mole-hill.
As a jest, Uncle Maedhros and Fingon were assigned the chambers known as the Honeymoon Suite next to my chambers by Finrod Felagund. Celebrian is a tad upset her uncle then invited several nubile ellyth to join them in there for an all-night party. Calling it an orgy would be overdoing it, methinks. Ada Maglor declined to join the party as he had to prepare a lecture for the Tirion Academy of Music. The last time he was pelted so heavily with tomatoes by the Daeron faction his garments were ruined. I do wish Glorfindel would be more considerate when doing his morning routine. Exercising on the balcony after a bath is fine but at least put on some clothes first. Thingol is kicking up an awful fuss downstairs. Seems his grandsons took off with Finrod last night for some party and have not returned to their rooms in town. Er, I think I just spied the pair sneaking out the back stairs with Finrod's help. Methinks they have been smoking dream-weed.
Arafinwe is writing to request that instead of me travelling to Lorien, it might be more prudent for Lady Este's healers and Maiar to come to the palace to treat me. Once again, I am not grieving. My writing letters to a daughter who will never read them does not mean that I am going insane with grief. I am sure Uncle Maedhros understands what mad really is – oh, you were writing letters to Fingon after the Battle of Unnumbered Tears? Well, at least I use ink still and not blood.
Now seriously questioning my sanity,
Your Ada Elrond Earendilion
Author's Notes:
I cannot help imagining the twins as scamps and pranksters. Bet Elrond was quite a terror with his brother Elros as elflings.
