King's Tower. Midsummer, Second Age 144
ELROND threw the book he tried to read. Although Lord Istuion reassured him that Thranduil would attend the dinner, Elrond wasn't sure. He couldn't even do the one thing the king had asked of him.
With a sigh, Elrond got up to dress. He had sent all the servants down to the fields to enjoy the evening. If he had his way, he would just stay in his chambers until the sunrise when the king gives thanks to Eru, but the king expected him to be there at this dinner.
It was part of his duty as the king's kin to sit beside the king and aid him in his endeavors. Elrond knew that, and he wanted to do the best he could. But this matter with Thranduil was wearing him down. For the past three months, he tried his utmost to be patient, but no matter what he did, Thranduil seemed unmoved. And it seemed to Elrond that more he let Thranduil be, less trouble Thranduil caused. Perhaps, it was best just to let this Sinda be.
But if he were to keep a distance from the Sinda, was he not letting the king down? Was he not being remiss in doing his duty and meeting his obligations? Elrond let out a long sigh, then trudged down the stairs and into the long, open corridor that led to the western courtyard.
"Lord Elrond!" A lady dressed in a shimmering, diaphanous fabric over a red silk stepped out from where she stood behind a marble column.
Ai, Elbereth, save me!
Elrond realized the mistake he had made, but it was too late. Too deep in his thoughts, he had forgotten why he hid out in his chambers since the morning. But wasn't this part of the King's Tower restricted to the king and his kin? Elrond glanced at the guards by the entrance to the stairs. They stared back at Elrond, their eyes unrepentant and dancing.
The lady flipped her dark curly hair over her shoulder and glided over to Elrond.
"I have been waiting for you, my lord," she said and offered a white ribbon embroidered with a red poppy flower in the red and gold thread.
"I am honored, Lady Fumella. But if I may be so bold, I believe Erfaron was looking forward to receiving your favor." Elrond tried his best diplomatic voice, but the young lady was unmoved.
"He has no right over me. You are my choice this year," she said, smiling up at him.
"He will be heart-broken."
But the girl just shrugged as if it meant nothing. "We are not betrothed. I am not bound to choose him every year."
But why me? Elrond could pull his hair out. Didn't he have enough problems?
Elrond squashed the groan that lurked inside him and ignored the waves of amusement coming from the guards. Elrond bowed low. It was Midsummer's Eve and the choice of partner for the evening belonged to the ladies. It would be rude to protest further.
"You honor me, my lady." He offered his arm as was expected of him. She tied her ribbon around his upper arm to show that he was taken for the evening. Then, she wrapped her hands around Elrond's arm.
Elrond wished, hopelessly, that he could avoid meeting Erfaron tonight. Being one of Belegor's closest friends, Erfaron never expressed it outwardly, but Elrond knew the cadet never liked him. After the Battle of Unnumbered Tears, many Elves considered Men inferior and untrustworthy. Although some made exception of the Edain from the rest of the Men, more than few did not bother with the distinction. And despite Elrond being Lady Idril's grandson, he ultimately belonged to House Hador, not to House Finwe. And even now when he was an Elf, it didn't stop some from seeing him more a Man than an Elf. Even if that were not so, Fumella choosing him would not endear him to Erfaron.
With a resigned sigh, Elrond walked into the Western Courtyard with Lady Fumella on his arm.
The evening air was crisp as the north wind cooled the heat of the afternoon as the sun started its slow descent into the west. All around the courtyard, the sweet scent of summer roses and the intoxicating aroma of tart peach wine were heady in the air mingling with the melodies expertly played on several harps.
As soon as Elrond stepped into the courtyard, a number of young ladies who stood near the entrance of the courtyard rushed over, all with a strip of ribbon in their hands. Fumella raised her chin as she leaned into Elrond. The Half-elven had to make an effort not to flinch away from her touch, feeling the swirl of disappointments that rose all around him.
Although this happened every year, Elrond was usually prepared. For many years, Lalaithwen chose him, relieving him of the need to hide out until the last moment when he had no choice but to make an appearance. But for the past few years, Lalalithwen had been unpredictable, making him guess as to whether she will choose him. And this year, he couldn't blame her for not choosing him. With all the things that went on, he had not had the opportunity to talk to her since her return.
"Lady Fumella," called a familiar voice.
Both Elrond and Fumella turned to face the king. The king's gray eyes were sparkling with humor.
"How did you catch the Elusive Elrond? You are the envy of the ladies this evening," said the king with a definite amusement in his voice.
Fumella giggled, her face flushed. "With luck and a well-made plan, my king. It is unfortunate that your majesty is off limits," she said throwing a flirty look toward Gil-galad.
"Yes, yes. Very unfortunate," laughed the king. "But, I make a terrible partner. That's probably the reason for the rule," the king said, giving Elrond a look. "As much as I hate to steal him away from you, will you spare us a moment, dear lady? I would like a word with my cousin," said the king.
"Of course, your majesty," the girl curtseyed prettily before turning to Elrond. "I will see you later, my lord," she said before moving away.
Elrond sighed watching the elleth go.
"Lady Fumella? I feel for you. What happened to Lalaithwen?" Gil-galad asked. "Did you forget to woo her?"
"Woo her? I haven't had the time to speak to her after she returned from her stay with Lady Galadriel."
"Oh, good. Maybe I could convince Lalaithwen to stay by my side this year."
"Sire, you are off-limits. Even if that was not so, no one dares to approach you. Can you not yield Lalaithwen to me?"
Gil-galad shook his head, his eyes twinkling.
"Be you my cousin and beloved friend; I yield none who holds my heart."
Elrond rolled his eyes, but his heart was glad to see that the king was in a playful mood. Gil-galad was only eighty-seven years older than him, a mere blink in the eyes of Elves, but the king seemed so much older and so much graver.
"Alas, there is nothing much I could do this year as I am already chosen. I'll be lucky if I escape Erfaron's wrath."
"It is not your fault that his lady chose you. He knows as well as anyone that the choice of partner belongs to the ladies during the summer solstice. And as she is yet to be betrothed, she has a right to choose anyone."
"Yes, I know that. But I have seen too many occasions where a heart in love abandoned reason. I've lost few friends over the years because a lady they have their hearts set chose me as her partner for the evening."
"It is your fault for being so desirable, Elrond. There must be something in the blood of Men that stirs the blood of ellyth. We have already lost two of our most beloved princesses to the houses of Men."
Elrond raised his eyebrows. He had never seen Gil-galad this lighthearted. "You certainly seem to be in a happy mood today."
"Ah, it must be the wine I am looking forward to."
"Wine?"
"A very special reserve from my uncle's vineyard, something he poured all his energy into when he was not working at the palace. He thinks it is the closest he came to reproducing the vintage he used to drink at Valinor. I tasted it when he first brought a barrel to me. It certainly is the finest I have ever tasted, but it is quite potent."
"Are you serving that for the evening?"
"I wish I could. Unfortunately, he was able to make only one barrel."
"That is hardly enough for all the guests. Maybe for the high table only?" Elrond looked about the courtyard. The high table was set up on a dais to seat twenty-four guests, twelve on each side of the king's chair. Facing them were four rows of tables seating twenty-four each.
"Yes, for the high table only. I wish I could have a bottle of my own to share with you, but there is not enough to spare. But, don't worry, Elrond. I reserved a seat next to me for you."
"That is unfortunate," Elrond said. Captain Aron had informed Elrond that Thranduil refused to come unless he was seated at a certain table. "Thranduil will be seated at the farthest table from the dais, and as his warrior companion, I made the arrangements to sit with him."
The king nodded. "That is unfortunate, indeed," he mumbled. Then, he looked up, his face grave once again. "How are you faring with our Sindarin friend?"
Elrond tensed. If he was ever to get out of the obligation the king placed on him regarding Thranduil, this was it. Elrond took a breath and opened his mouth when the king turned away to look down at the training fields that lay before the courtyard.
All three fields were filled with people this evening, many sitting on a blanket or make-shift tables. Tonight, the king's cellar was thrown open, and the food and wine will be served to everyone. After the dinner, there will be dancing and singing to be followed by Onen Calad.
"I am so glad I have you here, Elrond. I don't know if I could deal with this young Sinda on my own. There is so much going on with the council. This expedition Lord Celebrimbor will take after the summer solstice is more than just about a treaty with the Dwarves. The cadets will be affected, too. And more so for you and the Sinda."
Elrond frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Lord Gilmagor will give you more details after the end of summer, but be prepared to travel with Thranduil up north."
"I don't understand."
"They found an Elven village up north, near where the Dwarves are. A village of Green Elves."
"Up North by Dwarven villages? That is quite further up."
"Yes. And there are dangers. We suspect dragons within the Dwarven ruins. We need to move the villagers south, below the river that marks our northern marches, but the villagers refuse to deal with our warriors. The council decided that we needed to send them representatives who could convince them to move." The king stopped and looked at Elrond.
"I am not one of the Sindar, Sire. I doubt they will consider me as one of them."
"But you are the only living descendant of King Thingol."
"But I know nothing of Doriath, nothing of people who lived there." For most of his life, it was Noldor who nurtured and educated him. What he knew of Sindar was through Lord Cirdan's people who had never lived in Menegroth. And he had met even fewer Green Elves.
"That is why we are sending Thranduil along with you. Lord Celeborn volunteered to go, but his people did not want their lord anywhere near where there may be dragons. As they wouldn't let me go either, the council thought it best that we send you and Thranduil, instead. But do not fear the dragons. Lord Celebrimbor and the Silmacil will deal with the worms. And a large part of north legion will accompany you and the cadets. And Lord Istuion and Captain Aron will go." King smiled when he looked up at Elrond's face. "They volunteered to accompany you and Thranduil into the village. Although the cadets and north legion will be there, they will be stationed further away so as not to alarm the villagers."
"I see."
The king put his arm on Elrond's shoulder. "I hope I am not burdening you too much, my friend. If I could find other ways…."
Elrond managed a smile. "It is my privilege to serve you, my king. I will do my best."
Gil-galad gave Elrond a faint smile and looked away at the training fields full of people who were already singing and dancing below them.
Elrond bit down a desire to send out his senses to intrude on the emotions of the king. Gil-galad knew of Elrond's ability and kept his feelings under tight control. The king was as difficult to read as Thranduil and other elders from Valinor who kept their emotions in tight rein. But Elrond didn't need to read the king's emotion to know that Gil-galad worried for him.
"Do not worry about me," Elrond said and tamped down an urge to squeeze the king if such a thing was permitted. Gil-galad was still young, not yet three hundred years in age, yet there was so much burden on his shoulders. Elrond felt embarrassed that he had wanted to evade the one obligation the king had entrusted to him.
"I am sorry that I had to ask you to do this on top of befriending Oropherion. The Sinda is quite a handful, isn't he?"
"At least he did not cause any more stir since that hair incident," Elrond said with a reassuring smile for the king.
Gil-galad shook his head. "Thank the Valar! I feared that I might have to send Thranduil back to his father. If you had seen how upset Lord Calel was! He stirred up all the councilors. If it wasn't for Lord Gilmagor, I don't know what I would have done. At least, Calel was manageable. Did you know how upset my uncle was after that soup incident? According to him, our friend was planning an attempt on my life."
"You don't believe that, do you?"
"Of course not. If I thought the Sinda could even entertain such a thought, I would not have kept him here. But, it would be nice to see Thranduil getting along. Have you made any progress?"
"He is difficult to reach."
The king nodded, his face grave again.
"We will get to him, Sire. It has only been three months. Give him some time. No matter how thick the ice wall, it must melt, surely, with time," Elrond reached out and laid a comforting hand on the king's arm.
"Will five centuries be enough?" Gil-galad frowned.
"He will be a river by then," Elrond laughed, trying to lighten the mood.
"River has its own problems."
"In that case, we will deal with it then. We could always build bridges. I will do everything I can. I promise."
It was then that Lord Cirdan and Lord Istuion walked into the courtyard with three younger Elves: Thranduil, Aron and Lady Silwen.
Elrond felt Gil-galad stiffen and suck in his breath. Almost immediately, it seemed to Elrond, the king built a wall around himself and put on an armor as if he was readying himself for a battle. This puzzled Elrond greatly. Lord Cirdan was like a father to the king. There were love and respect between them that even Lammaeg couldn't break, not that the councilor didn't try.
"Welcome, my lords," Gil-galad greeted Lord Cirdan warmly then nodded to Istuion, Aron, and Thranduil.
"My lady," the king greeted Lady Silwen, somewhat coldly, Elrond thought. "It's been too long," he said woodenly as Lady Silwen bowed, her eyes downcast.
Elrond frowned as Gil-galad turned away from her.
The king smiled warmly to those around him, but Elrond saw the hidden robe the king wore above his armor, an invisible robe of sorrow like rain that comes silently in the grayness of early morning.
A fierce desire to protect the king rose from Elrond's depth. Gil-galad was the only family left to him now.
Elrond wondered who the cause of Gil-galad's grief was. He glanced at the newcomers.
Lord Cirdan was warm and gentle like summer sea breeze. And Lord Istuion was not different from his uncle in temperament even if he was the follower of Oropher and stayed distant. That went for Captain Aron as well.
As for Thranduil, well, he was another matter entirely, but Elrond knew Gil-galad well enough to know that the king could handle himself no matter how ill-mannered the Sinda was.
Elrond glanced at the king and found that the king's eyes grazed the lady. It was brief, but he saw sorrow there before the king turned to Lord Cirdan.
Elrond glanced at Lady Silwen. She was Lord Cirdan's niece, a daughter of the brother of Lord Cirdan's wife. Lord Cirdan's wife had sailed to Valinor after the Great War. Elrond was told that she had lost her desire to live in Middle Earth after the death of her only son at the Battle of Unnumbered Tears. Lady Silwen lost her parents to that battle as well and was raised at Lord Cirdan's house along with Gil-galad.
For a time, Elrond, as well as others, thought Gil-galad had feelings for Lady Silwen. They were never betrothed, but Elrond always felt there was something there between them. But the times during the great war was chaotic. And Elves did not enter into romantic relationships during the times of chaos and unrest.
Before Elrond could read anything from the lady, the king turned to Thranduil. The king's face was serene as he greeted Oropher's son, but Elrond could not help but notice the tightness of the king's jaw.
"Are you enjoying the festivities?"
"No," said Thranduil, looking away.
Elrond winced. But, the king smiled graciously at Thranduil.
"Is there something amiss? Perhaps I can remedy it?"
"No. I just don't enjoy festivities," Thranduil said nonchalantly.
"I am sorry to hear that. Perhaps there's something we can do to persuade you to change your mind?" the king asked.
"I doubt it."
Thranduil looked at the king, his eyes half closed and his chin raised, looking haughty and uninterested. Elrond held back an urge to whack Thranduil when Lord Cirdan laughed out loud and patted Thranduil's back.
"Thranduil, if I did not know any better, I would think you lacked manners, my boy. But, that can't be, my dear lad, because I know you have been well taught. Is that not so?"
There was a moment of silence as Thranduil met Lord Cirdan's eyes. For a moment Elrond thought Thranduil would make a curt retort, or worse, walk away, but instead, the young Sinda put his hand over his heart and made a graceful bow toward the king.
"My apologies if I offended you. I was just answering your questions with no other intent," said Thranduil and looked up with a face perfectly composed.
"No need to apologize," the king said with a gracious smile. "If there is anything I can do to make the evening more enjoyable, please let any of my staff know. You are welcome here, son of Oropher."
Thranduil bowed again and stepped back without another word. The king moved away with Lord Cirdan, leaving the younger Elves.
"You are looking lovely this evening, Lady Silwen," Elrond said.
Elrond had known her ever since he had led a portion of Maedhros' people to Isle of Balar before the War of Wrath. But she hardly ever came to the White City, and Gil-galad rarely visited Grey-Havens after the completion of the King's Tower. It was only when Elrond visited Lord Cirdan that he was able to see her.
Silwen smiled, looking ethereal in her plain white dress. With her white hair, pale face and silver eyes, she looked like a seafoam under the moonlight. Unlike other ladies in the courtyard, she had no jewels in her hair, no silver or gold girdles on her waist. Only decoration she had was a cluster of small white shells threaded with silver string around her neck. Amongst the ladies of court dressed in vibrant silk of many different colors, she stood out like a moonbeam in the darkness of the night.
"How are you, Elrond? Silwen smiled warmly.
Elrond repressed the urge he felt whenever he saw her. Before the palace at Lindon was complete, everyone had thought Gil-galad would take Lady Silwen to be his queen. But once the palace completed and the building of the city finished, Gil-galad had turned away. It surprised everyone, even Lord Cirdan and there had been a time when there was tension between Lord Cirdan and the king. Elrond wasn't surprised. Lady Silwen was like a daughter to Lord Cirdan who was her guardian. But no one can meddle into the decisions of two people on the matters of their betrothal. Only their guardians or parents had some say in the matter. In fact, any say by anyone else would be considered a very rude intrusion.
"You have not been here since they completed this palace," Elrond said. "There have been many changes since the last time you were here. Allow me to show you," Elrond offered his arm.
But before Silwen could take it, someone snatched his arm away.
"You are ignoring me, my lord," Fumella said, pouty and fierce. Fumella looked Silwen up and down as the Noldorin elleth wound her arms around Elrond's arm like a viper.
Elrond felt mild irritation at the interruption, but he bowed to Silwen. "Excuse me, Lady Silwen. This is Lady Fumella, my partner for the evening." It was the duty of the chosen to see to every desire of his lady partner during the evening.
"Do not worry about me, Elrond," Silwen smiled and excused herself, joining Aron and Thranduil who stood nearby.
Feeling his senses prick, Elrond turned to look at the direction of the king. Gil-galad was staring at the three young Sindar. Despite the plainness of their garments, or perhaps because of it, the three stood out. Smaller boned and pale of hair and eyes, Captain Aron and Lady Silwen looked like a pair of white butterflies in a garden full of colorful flowers. And Thranduil stood out no matter where he was and who he was with. For better or for worse.
House of Hador—Third House of the Edain (Men) established by Hador the Golden-haired who served Fingolfin (Gil-galad's grandfather). Fingolfin gave Hador fiefdom in Dor-lomin. Hurin and Huor were Hador's grandchildren by his first son. Hurin was Turin's father and Huor was Tuor's father (one who later married Idril and begot Earendil, Elrond's father)
About Marriage—Elves marry for love and of free will (forced marriage does not work as rape will kill the victim). Sex means marriage so there is no such thing as a premarital sex (although I suppose they are free to flirt as long as they are not bound). Once married, they are married for life. Death does not resolve marriages. Also, most Elves choose their mates while still very young, soon after achieving the majority (which is 50 years in age). Those who marry late are considered to have strange fates or connected to ill chances. I guess this means all our Elven lords in this story have strange fates which, I guess, is true.
A/N: Just a quick note: Many of you are probably aware, but the previous chapter's description of Menegroth borrows heavily from Lay of Leithian, the story of Beren and Luthien. Most are my creations but the description of the carvings and statues in the Corridor of Guarding are from the Tolkien's description of Menegroth. I just wanted to make that clear.