High Princes of Tirion
by
Nemis
Thanks to Adele for reminding me. ;)
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Chapter Thirty-Five Silver is a Good Start
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Dressed simply in a light-coloured tunic and trousers, Ereinion scanned some last papers on his desk, pretending he was not aware of how close to noon it was, and what lay ahead of him today. It was not exactly nervousness that he felt deep down, but anticipation, certainly, even if he kept telling himself this was nothing to worry over, a day like any other.
The next moment a whirlwind, dressed in white, stormed into the study, caught his hand and pulled him along, giving him no time at all to do anything. Before he knew it, they were down the stairs, out of the house, through the gate and into the streets, both of them ignoring Elrohir's warning it rained.
Rain was perfect.
By no means were the streets of the city of Tirion empty, but those that were out seemed to be going about their business, not paying attention to much else, silently hoping the rain would cease before the betrothal celebrations would commence. Just two were using the rain as a cover.
Her hand in his, Ereinion now led Celebriníel, to somewhere he had come often the past years; the ideal place to suit their errand. The route he took there was less direct than the one he would usually take, but he did not take it on purpose. It was not because their present way would lead them past something he wished to show her, or not along a place he wished to avoid; if it was out of a feeling of carefulness at all it was an unconscious one. If there was any reason they walked as they did, it was because nothing mattered when he held her hand.
The bell on top of the ancient door rang as he opened it, halting and allowing Celebriníel to enter first, escaping the rain which appeared to be increasing. It was as if they crossed a threshold into another world. The sound of rain was cut out as soon as the door closed, and was replaced by a faint low sound of clocks ticking, and of mechanisms running their slow but regular course.
Splendid works were exhibited all around the small shop, each more beautiful, more intricate than the last. Carved wooden boxes, empty of content or carrying musical mechanisms, jewellery of all kinds, ornaments that seemed to have no function except for their silent beauty, standing besides elegant lamps that seemed to emanate light even unlit.
Celebriníel held her breath until Ereinion's hand found hers again, and together they entered further, finally coming eye to eye with an Elf who seemed to be observing them with nothing short of amusement. The years showed in his eyes, but his face was young, emitting a remarkable brightness. He bowed his head, but never averted his gaze.
'My lord.'
Celebriníel watched her companion smile at the hail and incline his head in greeting.
'Tarancarion.'
The Elf smiled.
'I predicted you would come here one day, for this reason.' The statement sounded matter-of-fact, more than amused.
The High Prince flashed a grin in reply.
'If what I have heard before is true, you would be one of the few in the city predicting it.' He did not wait for a reply and made Celebriníel step forward. 'This is Celebriníel Elrondiel'
The Elf rose from the high stool he had been occupying at the workbench and bowed to her.
'Mae govannen, hiril-nîn. I am at your command.'
Even if nothing had been spoken of, the craftsman seemed well aware of what service he was to provide. He guided them into the next part of the shop, scuttling around busily as they went along, moving small items, carrying them a little way before finding them new places.
'Silver, you said?' he said over his shoulder, making Ereinion chuckle.
'I did not say anything, but silver is always a good start, mírdan.'
'I would say silver is a very good thing altogether in your case, aran-nîn,' the jewel-smith shot back, taking a moment to meet Celebriníel's eyes. 'Please, sit.'
He motioned them towards some chairs near what appeared to be a counter of sorts, scattered with small instruments. As Tarancarion began searching for something they both remained standing.
'I should explain Tarancarion and I have known each other for a long time,' Ereinion said, smiling broadly, evidently enjoying the company. 'He was one of Lindon's master-smiths. And a good friend.'
Looking to Tarancarion for a response, he found the other with his back towards them, searching for something in a box beneath a worktable.
'A good friend indeed,' the Elf muttered while searching, 'to attempt...' He stopped rummaging suddenly and turned around. 'Nay, I did not mean that.'
Only a ghost of his earlier amusement was left on Ereinion's lips as he observed the other Elf.
'Ereinion?' Catching his hand and entwining her fingers with his, Celebriníel observed him closely, concerned. Tarancarion rose and looked back pensively at Ereinion as well.
'I did wonder if you ever thought of...' He shook his head. 'And I have received my answer. 'Give me a moment. I have something for you.' He disappeared into the depths of his stockroom, only to return swiftly carrying something that looked undeniably old and worn. Carefully he placed a leather binder on the wooden surface.
Sitting down carefully, Ereinion let his fingers travel along the edges of the time-stained cover. He knew what it was. Once upon a time different fingers, those too belonging to him, had touched this leather much as they did now. He glanced up at the smith, and then slowly opened the binder to find paper there, some of the sheets in better condition than others, all unaccustomed to touch.
Celebriníel watched them with him, uncertain what they had been speaking of. They were designs, of a most delicate and precise kind, for the point of a spear.
'Ever since you first entered here, years ago, I have contemplated showing you, asking you, but somehow I never could bring myself to do it until now. They are yours if you wish; I pass them on onto you.'
The High Prince sat silently for no more than a moment. Then he shook his head.
'They belong to another lifetime. And this is...'
'Merely paper?' Tarancarion finished the sentence for him. He received the High Prince's apologetic look with a smile.
'If I saw the original before me, I do not know what I would do,' Ereinion said softly, his eyes fixed on the drawings again.
The jewel-smith tilted his head sideways.
'Most likely it shall never come to that.'
'Perchance for the better,' Ereinion replied, closing the binder and fixing its fastenings with care before returning it to its master. 'Now, where were we?'
Taking it, Tarancarion looked at it a moment before disappearing into the back again.
Looking at him, Celebriníel brought a hand up to Ereinion's face, carefully touching his cheek. Catching the hand, he pressed it against his lips.
'Do not worry. It merely took me unaware.'
His smile was convincing enough for her to let it go for now.
Pulling her unto his knee they both expectantly watched Tarancarion return. The Elf stretched out a hand, requesting Celebriníel's. He only needed a single glance. He needed even less time to come to a conclusion in Ereinion's case.
'A moment.'
Crossing the room, he collected a large band on which thirty or more rings hung, their sizes graduating from small to much larger. While walking back he seemed to search for a particular one, finally found it and removed it from its holding place. With the offhand manner of someone whose livelihood had been spent with doing exactly this, he offered it to Celebriníel.
A perfect fit.
'I expected so,' he remarked, already in search for another one, which he offered to Ereinion. Holding up his ringed finger, Ereinion showed the smith had once again estimated the size correctly. Tarancarion turned with a grin, and Celebriníel swore she heard him mumble something that sounded like 'Still the same size.' She was glad Ereinion had failed to notice.
'How soon can you finish them?' Ereinion asked as the smith scribbled down some notes and gave the rings they had just fitted a closer inspection.
'Five days would suffice.' Tarancarion nodded to himself. 'As I happen to have just the silver to suit the occasion.'
Resting a hand on Celebriníel's hip lightly Ereinion raised an eyebrow.
'Oh?'
'Best possible quality.' He flashed a grin. 'Fit for a royal betrothal.'
Meeting Celebriníel's eyes Ereinion beamed and answered for the both of them.
'Excellent.'
Not much later they entered through ever-open doors of the building and stepped into the square hallway which led to the library itself. From one of the chambers of the adjoining wing came an elf who merely smiled kindly. As if the rule of silence was already appropriate here he motioned both of them to follow into the room he had just exited. There they were pointed towards towels to help rid them of the worst rain. With a smile Ereinion considered how much more this was a case of the librarians wishing to protect ancient books from water damage rather than a considerate gesture towards visitors. With a simple nod they were left to their devices.
'So quiet,' Celebriníel almost whispered.
Nodding as he watched her dry her hair, Ereinion smiled.
'I sometimes wonder if some of the librarians ever speak.'
She ran her fingers through her hair and looked at him expectantly. He offered her a hand, and together they retraced their steps into the hallway, and continued on into the building. The library was, perhaps not surprisingly, quiet, but more so than usual.
Light shone through the large round windows far above and reflected against the ceiling, an ingenious architectural trick to provide light down below without much need for additional candles or lamps during the day. Ereinion watched the stained-glass depictions of the lower windows, beautiful, almost telling their own tales, intricate as paintings, adding to the atmosphere in their own way.
Celebriníel looked up at the ceiling.
'The light is quite special here.'
'You should come here in the evening, when the illumination of the room depends on lamps. However stunning it is during the day, in the evening it is truly amazing.'
She nodded dreamily, meanwhile knowing exactly where she wished to go.
'It makes me wonder how beautiful it must have looked when the light of the Two Trees still shone.'
They entered one of the aisles in the extensive history section and Celebriníel released his hand, running her fingers lightly along the spines of the books on the shelves. Folding his hands behind his back Ereinion observed her, as lost in her as she in turn was in the presence of the collected volumes of lore.
'What is it exactly you are looking for?' he asked her after a while, and watched as she blushed.
'I have always enjoyed reading about Middle-earth,' she said softly, replacing a book on one of the shelves and taking another along as she joined him. They walked on through the main aisle, reaching an empty table where Celebriníel deposited the book.
'Specific parts? History in general? Politics? Craftwork?'
She smiled and walked back to the nearby shelves.
'Specific parts of history. I wished to read about Lindon. About... You.' The final part had become more of a whisper than a mere quiet remark.
Following her with some slow steps he took the large leather-bound volume she had just collected from her.
'Ah well, do not read this then.' He smiled. 'For it is extremely boring.'
He returned it to its place again and began searching; quite certain what he was looking for was here. Once it had been in his mother's possession, but she had given it to the library shortly after his return from the halls of Mandos. As a reason she had said something about not having need for it any longer. Maybe in part it had also been to get it out of the house. Not that he had not found it later on.
But it made him realise he understood Celebriníel's urge to learn of the places that meant so much to the people around her all too well; he had felt very similar himself not too long ago. The things that had happened there had made them who they were, explained so much of their motives and their actions now. For him it had become more than that when faint memories had begun to invade his life, but that changed very little. He understood.
And right then, he saw it, standing between a volume of Battles of the early First Age and Craftsmanship of Eriador, oddly out of place, but there it was, leather blue cover with silver decorative motifs. He took it out and opened it at random, finding Celebriníel at his side.
The book appeared to consist of precise pictures going with the texts, and right now Celebriníel could see a mirror-image of the Elf-lord standing beside her, dressed in stately blue, complicated designs embroidered into his robes, his dark hair braided at the temples, a simple silver coronet set on his brow.
'Ah, wait,' he suddenly said, handing her the book and slowly making his way further down the shelves.
Celebriníel turned the pages, taking in some of the text, but mostly admiring the drawings, until she was confronted with an image she would have gladly gone without.
The Fall of Gil-galad.
It was neatly scribed, and for a moment she thought to recognise her father's hand. Then she decided that had to be a coincidence.
The shape against which the High King stood in battle was vague, since the picture had not been coloured as the others in the book, and the many lines set down by the artist were still visible, not one clear line preferred above the rest, as in most of the pictures. The face of the lord of Lindon was clearly discernable, even though his handsome features seemed marred by raw lines of intense concentration.
A poem stood next to it, the slant the same as before.
She read the lines over once, feeling a chill go over her skin, making her shiver, though it was not unpleasantly cold.
'Here, I found it,' Ereinion's voice interrupted as he returned with another book, much less bulky. Celebriníel snapped her book shut and tried to gather a smile. Ereinion was too preoccupied to notice. Showing her an ink depiction of his face, shadow and light making it very true to life, she had to grin.
'So young.'
He chuckled and pointed at the small signature in the corner. 'Of your father's hand.'
'How old was he then?' she asked, taking over the book after placing the other on a shelf, resisting the urge to check for a signature on the other drawing, attempting to make certain Ereinion did not touch it.
'Uhm, your age, I would gather, a little older,' he replied, thinking. 'Young.'
As she stood beside him, concentrating on the book, he could not help raising a hand to trace a finger down her jaw. Not surprisingly, that immediately caused her to shift her attention.
Looking up she swallowed, knowing that without a doubt her cheeks were aflame. Resting a hand against her neck he slowly brought his lips to meet hers, feeling how she placed one of her hands on his chest.
His lips were warm against hers, and she felt her stomach flutter as he stepped closer, only to encounter the book she was still holding between them. Releasing her from the kiss Ereinion looked at the leather volume indignantly, and the next moment he jammed it impatiently onto a shelf, to return to her and continue his minute examination of her lips.
Celebriníel was ready for him now, answering his heated kisses as he slipped his arms around her, feeling her face burning and her heart beating like crazy all the while.
Unfortunately, the book had not been placed back entirely as it should have been, and after balancing some moments it decided it was not willing to remain where the High Prince had intended it to; it hit the floor, noisily but thankfully undamaged.
Confronted with a sound louder than either of them was comfortable with currently, Ereinion and Celebriníel both turned to observe the book on the floor, as rapidly approaching footsteps became clearly distinguishable. Slowly they stepped away from each other, exchanging some lingering glances and knowing smiles, making certain enough space was between them as was proper.
No space between us would be more proper, Celebriníel thought with a smile and a deep breath as Ereinion collected the book from the marble floor. She turned and collected the book he had handed her earlier from the shelf again, walking over to the table and placing it underneath the other book she had wished to take lying there.
Once she faced Ereinion again, quite some steps removed, Esvalgor was at his side, and they were conversing quietly, Ereinion no doubt assuring the other the book had sustained no injuries. Remembering the discussion the scholar had started with her mother before, Celebriníel was glad to escape with merely a smile and a nod. Climbing a ladder in the next aisle she began inspecting what secrets the higher shelves there held, and soon she was seated on one of its steps, engrossed in a book on Lindon politics.
She had no idea how much time had passed, nor how many letters to Númenorean kings she had read, when feeling someone pull at the hem of her dress. Ereinion smiled up at her mischievously.
'How much more time would you wish to spend up there, lady?'
She chuckled.
'You have business to attend to?'
Suddenly concentrating on the fabric between his fingers he shook his head.
'Perhaps you would appreciate something to eat. And from what I can tell, the weather has cleared, and perhaps you would like to go riding, if there is time later.'
'Oh?' Closing the book, she looked down with twinkling eyes. 'The mighty High Prince is going to take me riding?'
With flourish he stepped onto the ladder, climbing it enough to be able to bring his lips to her ear.
'If my lady wishes it.'
'I know nothing of what your lady would wish, my lord, but I for one would very much enjoy it.'
He looked at her with a playfully raised eyebrow, and then moved closer again, his lips lingering on her cheek. Celebriníel could not help closing her eyes as he brought a hand up to her neck, fingers brushing past a sensitive spot at her throat. With infinite care he pressed soft kisses to her skin.
'How do you play this game so well?' she whispered, short of breath, feeling the heat of before return to her skin.
'I am quite certain you can play it much, much better,' he told her in a low voice as he retreated. 'And I am very willing to allow you to practise on me later.'
She laughed and narrowed her eyes at him.
'I am sure.'
Stepping off the ladder he offered her a hand and helped her down, smiling as she jumped the last two steps. They walked over to the table where several books lay spread out.
'Do you wish to take any? I can have someone deliver them to your brother's house this afternoon, so we do not have to take them along right now.'
Without hesitating she picked three books, making certain the one she had secured earlier was there, and together they made for the entrance, only halting to deliver the books into the hands of a librarian who would see to it that they were sent on safely.
Stepping outside, the weather had indeed bettered, if only a little. The sky remained threateningly grey. Offering his arm, Ereinion seemed thoughtful a moment, then smiled.
'Hungry?'
'A little.'
'Perfect.'
He replied to her enquiring look with a grin and stepped onto the street, letting her arm slip from his and catching her hand instead. As they had this morning, they seemed to fly through the streets, again with a certain direction, even if Celebriníel was not certain of their destination. In the end it turned out not to be far.
For years there had been stately houses, almost palaces, which she had only seen from the outside, not aware, not truly interested, of what was within. After so many yéni of prosperous growth, Tirion was a city that excelled in beauty, and it was often difficult to say if a building had a special communal purpose, housed a workshop, or was simply a place where someone lived.
The building they entered was less than conspicuous; if she had gone by it in the street she would most likely not have given it a second glance, but slipping inside through the almost small door they came upon a splendid courtyard, a small fountain in the middle, white columns standing tall and stately, age-old and at the same time almost as if they had been placed there yesterday.
They stayed under the roof instead of crossing the courtyard more directly, and were greeted by an Elf dressed in a fine grey on the other side. Inclining his head towards Ereinion, he went before them and led them further, through a hallway where the stone slabs with their almost unnoticeable but intricate patterns gave way to wooden floorboards carrying a beautiful inlaid mosaic.
'Near the garden, my lord?'
Ereinion merely nodded.
Celebriníel wondered if these Elves knew who he was, and whether they were simply avoiding acknowledging it by referring to him as "my lord". It had to be known Ereinion disliked idle use of his title, however much he had accepted it. The conundrum of it amused her.
The next chamber they entered held several tables where people sat talking animatedly while enjoying their meals. Ereinion was holding her hand as ever, and Celebriníel expected him to release it and offer his arm instead. But he held on, folding her arm under his so that, almost unseen, their fingers remained entwined. He gave her a secretive wink.
Crossing the room he greeted Elves here and there, but never halted, and they never rose, allowing the two of them to continue on into another courtyard. Instead of a fountain there was a lush garden with several slender but tall trees standing in the centre of it. Anar had hesitantly begun to cast its rays onto the grass, and they were led to a table which stood just out of reach of the light. From somewhere within the trees, a bird began to chatter happily.
'Like it?' Ereinion asked quietly, as if she was to decide whether they would stay or not.
Smiling broadly she nodded, allowing a seat to be pulled out for her. As the weather went on to grow better and better, the afternoon passed in vivid conversation, and if there was anyone around them that smiled upon seeing the High Prince and his guest, neither of them noticed.
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Tarancarion: I could argue it does have some Elvish in it, but it's too little to make real sense.
mírdan: jewel-smith
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