I was considering if I should just skip ahead to Tyelpe on a pole but I decided to get Elrond better acquainted with wild-child Celebrian.
An Undiplomatic Banquet
S.A. 1250, Eregion
Dear Elros
I recovered enough to attend a banquet hosted by Lord Celebrimbor in honour of the visiting delegates from Khazad-dum and representatives of the Sindar. My liege complained of an upset stomach and assigned me to stand in for him. I whipped up a concoction to sooth his stomach cramps and went to have myself decked out in a suitable robe. I do wish that we could come with a simpler style of formal dinner-wear for the Noldor (preferably one that does not require a trio of servants to get you into). Celeborn was kind enough to loan me the use of his servants. The young valet sent to me goes by the name Melpomaen and is quite an affable chap. I would like to chat with him further but he has to hurry off to get Cousin Celebrimbor dressed up. Aunt Galadriel is not taking any chance that our kinsman will embarrass us all by turning up before the Sindar in his leather apron – I know the Dwarves would not mind one whit if he did, as long as the beer is kept flowing.
I was on my way to check on Gil-galad's tummy-ache when I made a wrong turn somewhere and got lost. Hearing a commotion of sorts, I hastened there in hopes finding someone I could get directions from. Found Aunt Galadriel in a state of distress being consoled by her husband. Celeborn staring daggers at Lord Annatar, who was rubbing his cheek and looking quite put out. Also consoling Aunt Galadriel was Prince Thranduil.
Gave quite a fair speech telling Annatar off for harassing his kinswoman by marriage – though I did notice his hand wandering downwards as he rubbed Aunt Galadriel's back. Annatar seemed to consider for a moment before storming off. As I look at Thranduil, I am struck by a certain queasiness at the fine figure he cut. I am believe I have deduced the cause of Gil-galad's ailment – It is Thranduil's overflowing charisma. Is that codpiece meant to be a fashion statement? Surely he could not be that well-endowed… My musing were interrupted by the arrival of a rambunctious Celebrian, who demanded I escort her to the dinner. She turned Thranduil beet-red when she pointed at his codpiece and innocently asked if he keeps an apple in there for his elk. I think I am starting to like her.
As usual, formal dinners are boring. This was no exception. Lord Annatar looked fashionably bored next to Celebrimbor (who was probably thinking of his next project). Lord Celeborn was making polite talk with his distant nephew Prince Thranduil, despite the latter being distracted by a serving wench on his knee. Aunt Galadriel interrogated me on the High King's absence and state of health. I am not his attendant physician although I do tend to his minor ailments on the road. The Dwarves were constantly murmuring under their breaths and Galadriel slipped me a dagger under the table cloth, just in case they start waving axes. Oh, Tyelpe, what did you mess up in Khazad-dum?
Towards the end of the dinner and possibly past Celebrian's bedtime, Celebrimbor got up to give a speech. I think that did it for a certain increasingly cranky youngster. The servants had served up the dessert course – platters of sticky buns, fruit tartlets, and other sweet delicacies. Our little lady picked up the nearest plum pudding and threw it smack at Celebrimbor's head. Then all hell broke loose as the Dwarves decided that this was part of the festivities and started hurling their dessert at the host.
Lord Celeborn sternly hauled his screaming and kicking daughter out of the hall but the Dwarves continued their barrage. Narvi even requested for more sticky buns to be sent from the kitchen. I think they are really enjoying this a little too much. Needless to say, Celebrimbor was buried in plum puddings, sticky buns, and custard pies. When all that icing sugar had settled, we had to dig him out with our plates. We note that Lord Annatar had abandoned his good friend, no doubt to save his fancy robes.
An apologetic Galadriel ushered Celebrimbor off in the direction of the baths while the poor servants are confronted with the disaster in the banquet hall. I am sad to declare that my own formal robes were ruined from digging our kinsman out of that pudding, but it will make for an amusing tale to share with Gil after I get cleaned up. As for the Dwarves, they seem to be significantly happier now than at the start of the banquet. I do suppose those were smiles under all that facial hair.
Had an awkward moment when I encountered Galadriel and Celebrimbor in the men's baths. In her enthusiastic efforts to get our host clean, she ended up in the bath as well and silks do have a tendency to cling when wet – leaving nothing to the imagination. Thankfully, Celeborn showed up with his valets to assist Celebrimbor, no doubt after sending their wayward daughter to bed after a spanking. It was so much less awkward once Galadriel left the baths.
Thranduil joined us shortly after. Muttering about ill-mannered Dwarves. Morgoth's balls… he didn't have an apple in there after all… Excuse me, I think I should make myself scarce as well.
Feeling sorely inadequate
Elrond
P.S. I am hoping some horse mistakes Thranduil's codpiece for an apple pouch and bites him there. No ellon deserves to be that well-endowed.
P.P.S. A couple of Dwarves just decided to make use of the baths and it's now Thranduil's turn to feel inadequate.
Author's Notes:
Hope you enjoyed young Celebrian and the sticky buns debacle.