Celebration
Elladan took several deep breaths of parchment-scented study air, barely aware of his father's affectionate kiss on his temple. Finally, a steward with a goblet of wine appeared. He had never been so grateful, and thanked the steward profusely, much to the man's bewilderment. He looked for his brother just in time to see him swallow the contents of his goblet in one gulp. They shared a slightly dazed grin and closed the distance between them. Elrohir pressed Elladan's forehead to his with his free hand.
"See how they always look to each other first."
"As brothers should."
Elladan turned his head to see Finrod watching them with the king. He recalled his manners.
"Our apologies, My King…"
The king held up a hand, a smile spreading across his face. "Take your ease for a moment. As will we all." He indicated a collection of richly decorated chairs and couches.
They waited for the king to sit before following. Elladan pulled his brother beside him on a couch. There was a knock at the door and a guard admitted another elf.
"Ah, Lord Dior," the king greeted the newcomer.
Elladan felt his heart lift. Dior threw himself at them both embracing them energetically. Elladan could not contain his laughter as the couch tipped dangerously.
He allowed himself to soak into the moment as the room filled with mildly overexcited laughter. He and Elrohir were acknowledged princes of Tirion and lords of their own lands. The worst of the day was over. All that was left was to get through a bit of dancing and polite introductions and he and his brother were free.
"If we might return to the occasion of the present?" the king arched an eyebrow.
Elladan disciplined himself. Time to begin the gentle descent home – with a façade of propriety.
Finrod beckoned to an attendant. The prince withdrew two silver circlets from a box and placed them on Elladan's and Elrohir's heads, slipping them carefully into place. He was surprised that it was quite comfortable to wear; in fact he could barely feel its weight. He tilted his head from one side to another experimentally but the circlet remained in place. He was forced to admit that properly fitted circlets were a much better option than cord bindings threaded through a gem's setting and knotted at the back of his head.
Finrod was smiling at him, brushing his jaw with a thumb affectionately. Elladan felt mildly foolish.
"Do not be anxious, we all find circlets inconvenient, which is why you do not see any of us wearing them on a daily basis. You probably did not notice that yours are etched with a Silmaril design. After all, Earendil deserves some remembrance."
Elladan found himself feeling suddenly grave. Something tugged at the edge of his consciousness, like a forgotten errand. He felt the outer robe slip onto his shoulders, less heavy than he remembered. He glanced at his father who was also donning a circlet and his own outer robe. His father smiled into his eyes as he grasped his upper arms, bringing a smile to his own lips, despite his unease. Dior also squeezed his shoulder quickly as they prepared for the palace ballroom.
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The sounds of voices and laughter told Elrohir that the number of people behind the ornate ball room doors numbered at least one hundred. So much for the small reception they had been promised! He glanced at Uncle who returned it with a wink. It occurred to him that even Noldo princes acquired habits from their non-elven neighbors.
They entered through the double doors as an attendant announced their names again. This time they were received with cheering. Elrohir felt heaviness in his limbs that threatened to turn him into the likeness of stone. Someone grasped his arm beside him. Father. He kept his sigh of relief as light as possible as all eyes in the room were upon them. Whispers behind hands and sidelong smiles took a more accurate measure of them than in the throne room. He noticed a considerable number of finely dressed younger maids edging their way to the fore, hoping to be noticed. He scanned the room, but only noticed dark, silver or golden heads.
The ballroom itself was not what he would accurately call a room. One end had been completely opened to the outside air, ingeniously designed doors pushed to either side. He assumed that there was some kind of garden beyond them and made a mental note to make his way in that direction. Enormous multi-paned windows arched over them, giving view to the sky. He could not yet make out any stars beginning as the light faded to a deeper blue, but he surmised that it would not be long. How quickly the day had passed.
Father tugged his arm and they began progressing the room. He saw his brother some distance away with Dior and Uncle. They had split up to save time. Not unlike skirmish tactics for a goblin rally, he thought.
He spent the next while putting all his effort into keeping a politely interested tone in his voice each time he repeated: "I am honored to make your acquaintance…" to stern faced elf-lords and their wives. He quickly lost count of the number of simpering young ladies who smiled up at him like elanor blooms in the grass.
Just as the effort of maintaining a veneer of polite interest was becoming insufferable, Father pulled him aside to a quiet alcove, closing the curtains. Elrohir sank onto a cushioned stool and sighed explosively. Father laughed quietly as he also rested beside him.
"You are doing well," he assured him and they rested quietly for several minutes, listening to the continued hubbub of voices outside. "My son…" Father never hesitated for words. Elrohir studied him. "I know that this is not what you foresaw for your life, this business of performing and pleasing crowds of strangers. I know that you do this for my honor more than your own. I want you to know that I…value your efforts."
Elrohir could not think of a reply. He rested his head on his father's shoulder, suddenly remembering many previous occasions of doing so, but not recently. He felt his father respond with an arm around his back, giving his shoulders a brief clasp. He wished that they did not have to return to the gathering and could remain where they were until everyone had forgotten about them and gone home. His father's continued embrace and cheek resting on his head encouraged him to do just that.
At first he thought the lull in the sounds of the party was merely part of his emersion in the moment. But gasps and squawks of surprise told a different story.
They both sat up. Elrohir burst from the alcove first. Elladan was with Dior, the two of them looking mildly alarmed, but completely unharmed. In fact their attention was focused on a scene near the open end of the room. Uncle was making his way towards it with an expression that Elrohir had never seen him use before. Anger. Furious anger.
"We do not know anything of your accusations! We have never seen your Arvernien or Sirion or whatever other name you wish to call it. How can we be responsible for the actions of our kin who died before we were even born?"
It was Alassiel. Elrohir began to push his way through the crowd.
He did not expect to find Alassiel and Alasse being confronted by a Maia. The being taking an adversarial stance to the two helpless maids certainly appeared more than elven. The light radiating from him was dazzling. His golden hair and skin seemed to shine with white light. Piercing blue eyes pinned the two maids as cruelly as spears. Elrohir did not normally hold with males being referred to as 'beautiful', but this creature was something beyond an ordinary male and terrifying in his wrath.
Elrohir was saved from constructing a way to intervene by Uncle.
"You overstep your authority, Mariner, if you think to harass two innocent maids in my father's court." The edge in Uncle's voice made Elrohir shiver.
The being turned on Uncle.
"I have authority to do as I please, so do not try to direct me, Prince-king. Innocent? Their house has brought mine and that of my spouse to ruin and death, yet you wish to unite them. Yes, I know of your scheming, son of Finarfin. You would use my issue to patch a hole in your own government, thinking me too powerless, or perhaps too careless, to thwart you."
"No one is being put to any task that is against their will, Mariner."
"You seek to plot their wills like you plot a campaign. I will not allow seed of mine to consort with the kin of murderers and thieves."
Elrohir admired the courage with which Alasse and Alassiel withstood this scorn. He saw Alassiel's lip twitch just once, and a moistening of one eye. He wondered how many times she had endured something like this. How much was the pain amplified by like memories? How terrifying to be so ill-treated by one of the Maiar, who could burn a person away with a glance?
He pushed his way forward, noticing Elladan joining him. They exchanged a glance. No one threatened unarmed women while they stood by.
The movement was not wasted on the Maia. Elrohir felt the being's eyes strike him, burning only briefly, and then subsiding.
"Sons of Elrond," the being acknowledged them both, "beware that sentiment and inexperience does not lead you astray. Your mother's kin seek to use you to force alliance between the royal house of Tirion and the dispossessed house of Feanor."
Aching silence descended upon the room.
Uncle bristled. "What little is left of either house might both be served by finding reconciliation. Tirion is not the place for division, but wholeness!"
A murmur broke out amongst the spectators. Accompanied by a number of huffs and pouts, he noticed.
Elrohir found his voice. "We do not hold the innocent to be responsible for the actions of their kin. Crimes may conceal a broken heart. You are mistaken, Maia, if you think we have not suffered the kinslaying. We are more than qualified to offer forgiveness on behalf of our house."
"Forgiveness?" the Maia stepped towards him studying him intently, while at the same time he seemed to shrink in size and power. Elrohir was reminded very sharply of Mithrandir who could appear as gentle as a babe if he wished, but quickly become as formidable as a balrog. "Let forgiveness be at their expense. Do you not see how they are trying to manipulate you into an unsuitable marriage?"
Elrohir heard Alassiel or Alasse make a small choking sound behind him. He glanced back quickly, seeing Alassiel's head lowered. Elrohir found himself coldly angry for the first time since coming to Eldamar.
"My brother and I can decide the suitability of our marriages for ourselves, Maia, unless it has very recently become the concern of the higher kindred for some reason."
"It is my concern," the Maia insisted, "because you are my kin. You are my house and unless there has very recently been a change in the customs of the Eldar, it is my concern who you choose to marry!"
Elrohir glanced at his brother. Elladan had no explanation either.
The Maia snatched Elrohir's hand and pressed it to his heart while using his other hand to slowly brush the circlet on Elrohir's brow and then to cover his heart. Blue eyes every bit as intense as Uncle's burned into his. Elrohir stood transfixed for an infinite moment.
Slowly he drew his hand away and moved out of the Maia's reach.
"I do not know you, Mariner," he said. The spell was broken.
Those gathered around them drew breath together with what seemed an absurd amount of noise. Elrohir turned in time to see Alassiel following Alasse through a narrow servant's door. He and Elladan followed as noise and activity erupted around them. They pushed through the suddenly hectic crowd, too slowly to stop the door closing after a brush of copper hair. Elladan reached the small handle and pushed on the door, closing it behind them. They were in a short passage way that by the sounds of it led to the kitchen. Elrohir saw a heavy cutlery cabinet. They moved it behind the door.
But there was no sign of Alasse or Alassiel in the kitchen and the scullery hands had not even seen them pass.
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Sorry for the delay folks. This story seems to be getting more and more demanding!