Well, this chapter was fun to write. Like I said last chapter, Elros bursts out in song! Now, he's a bad song-writer, the way I am, so please be nice. It wasn't easy.
All translations for elvish are nearby in parenthesis, or what I meant them to say. For example, when Elrond says "Iarwin nana," which literally translates to "Oldest mother," I said he said "Great-grandmother," due to the incomplete dictionary I was using.
For the elvish words, I went to the Sindarin Dictionary Project, http://www.jrrvf.com/~hisweloke/sindar/, and downloaded the DragonFlame program.
Don't own them! New pairing starts to surface, Elros/OC
Please give Gwyddia a chance, it's known that Elros takes a mortal wife, but no one knows anything about her. Gwyddia is just my idea of that person he deemed good enough.
When Elrond Met Thranduil
As Gil-galad had asked, Elrond and Elros were bundled up and waiting for the visiting men to arrive. Thranduil hadn't joined them, making him the smartest of the three. Winter had fallen over Rivendell recently, but it wasn't until last night that the snow actually came. Several feet of snow blanketed the land. Elrond and Elros stomped about on the road, clapping their hands together and rubbing their ears. Despite their heaving outer clothing, they had forgotten how cold it could get. Thranduil had helped them bundle up and had pushed them out the door, laughing.
Elros scooped up a handful of snow and smiled, watching the flakes fall between his fingers. He had forgotten how cold it was, but he had also forgotten how much fun snow was. It was like mud, only cleaner . . .
Elrond didn't notice Elros fling a snowball at him. The snow caught the younger elf in the face, the only place bare skin showed. Elrond let out a wail as the snow melted down his neck, sending rivulets of icy water over his chest. Elros was laughing too hard to dodge the snowball that came flying back in revenge.
Lord Keladron di'Peritan ti'Destrea was quite taken aback when he led his entourage up the road to find two adolescents duking it out in an old-fashioned snowball fight. Keladron scowled and gestured for his guards to get the attention of the boys so they could step aside.
"Hey! You there! Get out of the road!"
The boys froze and looked at the guards flanking the imposing man. It was almost comical the way their eyes widened in surprise and panic as they took in the scene. Several coaches and dozens of horses filled the road. Keladron rode at the head with his four guards flanking him. Many more people walked beside the coaches or rode on top. Keladron sat up straighter on his horse, scowling down at the children who dared obstruct his journey.
The boys looked at each other slowly, eyes wide and color draining from their faces. Suddenly, in a flurry of movement, they were dusting the snow off their clothes, shaking it out of their hair, straightening their garments, smoothing their hair down, and offering their hands, standing at attention like soldiers.
"We are sorry, Sir, for not hearing you approach. We were, uh, busy." The one on the left spoke slowly with a thick accent. Despite that, his voice was light and musical.
"Move!" a guard barked impatiently.
The boys bowed and stepped aside, falling into stride next to Keladron as his men started moving again.
"Lord Keladron di'Peritan ti'Destrea of Gondor, I presume?" the one to his right said. This one also spoke with a thick accent and measured tongue, or maybe was the same one that spoke before. The two were impossible to tell apart. "We are sorry for our earlier display, merely reveling in the first snow of the season. I am Elrond of Rivendell, and am to be one of your guides during your stay with us. My elder brother, Elros," he gestured to the other boy, "is your other guide. Feel free to come with us if you ever need anything."
Keladron was speechless. These two impertinent children had been assigned the important role as guides to him and his people? "Are you truly elves?" he asked, looking from one to the other. "You act like the troublemakers on our streets back home, and they are most certainly men."
Elrond looked away and Elros hung his head. "My lord, this is a rather, uh, touchy subject for us. We are not elves, not pure-blooded elves at least. My brother and I are rare half-elves, neither fully man nor elf. Our king, Gil-galad, believed we were the best for these positions due to the impurity of our blood."
Percivul, Keladron's aide, chuckled. "Which half is impure, man or elf?"
Elros grinned up at him. "I do not believe it would be wise to answer that, now would it?" Percivul laughed, a deep hearty laugh. Elros joined in, and Elrond permitted himself a smile.
Keladron and his party were welcomed by a host of elves who peeled away wet, snowy garments and boots, replacing them with soft robes and delicate slippers. Keladron watched as a small blond elf stripped the extra layers away from his guides. The blond elf caught him staring and stared back, unabashedly. Keladron curled his lip in a sneer, the blond elf sneered back. Keladron frowned, so did the elf. Keladron realized the elf was copying him and snarled. The elf snarled back, stuck out his tongue, and crossed his eyes. Keladron was not amused.
The elf helping Keladron was a tall blond, the only other blond elf he'd seen besides the rude youngster. Keladron cleared his throat and the elf looked at him, amusement dancing in his features. "Yes, Lord Keladron?" The elf's accent was not as thick as the children and his voice was even more melodic, if that was possible.
Keladron nodded over at the young blond. "That elf, is he your son?"
The older elf glanced at the child in question and laughed. "Thankfully, no. He is Prince Thranduil, visiting from the forest kingdom of Greenwood the Great. He is a dear friend of Elros and Elrond. They have turned him into a force to be reckoned with."
"A force to be reckoned with or not, he should be taught some manners."
Thranduil chose that moment to glide over to Keladron. "Lord Keladron di'Peritan ti'Destrea of Gondor, welcome to Rivendell! I hope you enjoy your stay here as much as I do! May I say, sir, it is an honor to meet a human held in such high regard by his peers. May I have the honor of showing you to your room? I would love to hear more about Gondor and the ways of men."
Keladron's elf, as he had started thinking of the pretty older blond, smiled and nodded his agreement. "I do think that would be a good idea. Thranduil, why don't you escort all the men to their rooms? Elros can take the women, and Elrond can be in charge of the children."
"Now wait just one minute. I don't want my daughter in the hands of some hormone-driven, maniacal. . ."
"I assure you, Lord Keladron, your daughter will be escorted to her rooms with the utmost dignity and respect that is demanded of her position. She is in safe hands with Elros, he knows better then to force himself upon anyone." The elf picked up Keladron's coats and fixed him with a penetrating glare. "Do not insult his honor while you are under this roof. He is held in the highest respect of being treated as a son of High-King Gil-galad himself. It would not bode well for you to cut him down."
Elros smiled at Keladron, a smug smirk, and gripped Keladron's daughter's arm firmly. "Come, Lady, your rooms are this way!"
Thranduil appeared behind Keladron's elbow, a nasty grin on his face. "If you will follow me, Lord Keladron. . ."
Keladron frowned. Whatever he had been hoping to see at Rivendell, impertinent elflings were not it.
Elros was having a wonderful time escorting Lady Gwyddia di'Peritan ti'Destrea and her four ladies-in-waiting to their shared room. The young women were beautiful and intelligent. They loved Elros' accent and were eager to learn about elves in general and Elros in specific.
Elros was almost disappointed when they arrived at the large room. Almost. Watching the human girls flit around excitedly, cooing over the elven trinkets, was enough to put a smile back on his face.
Rosalyn, Gwyddia's primary lady-in-waiting, moved to the thick curtains taking up one side of the room. "Elros? What is behind these heavy draperies?"
"I wouldn't open those if I were you," Elros warned. "Those cover the windows. Normally, they wouldn't be there, but with the cold of winter, they were put up to keep the room warm. If you bundle up and slip out, you would be treated to a wonderful view of the valley, but it's not recommended."
Gwyddia placed a hand mirror down and smiled at Elros. "Thank you, Elros, that will be all for now."
Elros bowed respectively, his smile never once faltering. "Dinner is served promptly at seven. Someone will come to fetch you until you learn your way around Rivendell. Be ready at least ten minutes beforehand." With one last flirtatious grin, Elros turned and left, holding his head high.
As soon as he closed the door behind him, Elros collapsed against it. "He na bain!" he breathed, images of Gwyddia dancing in his head. (She is beautiful!)
On the other side, Gwyddia collapsed onto her bed giggling. "Oh my, he's so handsome! Did you see his smile?"
Rosalyn sat next to her lady. "The way his eyes sparkled!"
"Oh, and his laughter!"
"His voice!"
"That accent!" all the women chorused together, before collapsing in a fit of giggles. Gwyddia sighed.
"Alas, but he is an elf. Why would he ever look at any of us in a way more then just friendship. Why would he ever look at us in friendship? He is so much higher then we!"
The giggles faded into a round of sighs, then the girls started giggling again, comparing what they thought were his best features.
Before dinner, Elros had been smitten with Gwyddia. After dinner, he was head-over-heels in love. She was unlike any girl he'd ever seen before, human or elvish! She reminded him a bit of Thranduil, meek and obedient to those who demand it of her, but impishly mischievous underneath her faked submission. She had beautiful dark hair that fell over her shoulders in relaxed ringlets and a smooth, alabaster face. Her bright blue eyes were unlike any Elrond had seen before. Only Glorfindel and Thranduil had blue eyes in Rivendell, but Glorfindel's was a deep midnight blue, and Thranduil's was sky blue. Gwyddia's were pale blue, with a hint of green. They reminded Elros of the sea.
Elrond was brushing Thranduil's hair in front of the mirror that night, talking softly to him about nothing important, when Elros bounced in, as was common. Elros collapsed onto Elrond's bed, admiring a glass rose and singing to himself.
Ai Gwyddia! Ai Tinúviel!
O bain na he thîr!
Ten síla sui ithil!
He lam nesta nín ind
A he lalaith echad nín ethirinc.
Elrond bit his lip and Thranduil tried his hardest not to laugh. Elros ignored them and continued.
Bain sell, melui brennil
Nín ind harna an he
An he lebad o lav nín dôl
An he hin o cen nín garn
Ai Gwyddia! Ai Tinúviel!
A snort of laughter escaped Thranduil and Elrond sat down heavily, biting his fist to keep some measure of composure. Elros spared them a lofty glare and started a new verse.
Gwyddia, bain pen,
He nîf garo na maenas na maedgwaith
He rhaw na cadwor
A he laws na moe
Nín meleth an he na gwaur!
As Elros sang the third verse, Thranduil curled up in the chair, rocking with laughter. Elrond gave up on trying to hide his mirth and fell over. Elros stopped singing and stood over them, pouting.
"Man na gelir?" he asked. (What is so funny?)
"I laer!" Thranduil choked out. "I laer!" (The song! The song!)
Elros scowled. "Alha na ú," he muttered. (No it wasn't)
Elrond nodded. "Tinúviel na mín iarwin nana! Na Gwyddia mín iarwin nana?" (Tinúviel [Luthien] was our great-grandmother! Is Gwyddia our great-grandmother?)
"Sui bain," Elros huffed. (As beautiful.)
"Na bain far an can he iarwin nana?" Elrond asked. (Is beauty enough to call her great-grandmother?)
Elros smacked Elrond with the brush. "Aewdôl! He na sui bain sui Tinúviel, ú Tinúviel he!" (Birdbrain, fool, idiot! She is as beautiful as Tinúviel, not Tinúviel herself!)
Elrond and Thranduil glanced at each other, then burst out singing, "O bain na he thîr!"
Elros threw up his hands in disgust and left the room, muttering "Alestel! Alestel!" (Hopeless! Hopeless!)
Well, I tried something new with the speaking. Here's Elros' song, first how he meant it to sound, then how it literally is.
Oh Gwyddia! Oh Tinuviel!
How beautiful is your face!
It shines like the moon!
Your voice soothes my heart
And your laughter makes me smile
Fair maid, sweet lady
My heart aches for you
For your fingers to stroke my brow
For your eyes to see my own.
Oh Gwyddia! Oh Tinuviel!
Gwyddia, beautiful one,
Your image has been sculpted by artists
Your body is flawless
And your hair is so soft
My love for you is undeserved!
Literal translation:
Oh Gwyddia! Oh Tinuviel!
How beautiful be she face!
It shine like moon!
She echoeing voices heal my heart
And she laughter made my mouth twitch.
Fair maid, sweet lady
My heart to wound for she
For she finger to lick my head
For she eye to see my own
Oh Gwyddia! Oh Tinuviel!
Gwyddia, beautiful one,
She face have to be craft by skilled people
She body be shapely
And she hair ringlets to be soft
My love for she to be dirty!
What I have learned from this chapter:
1) It is difficult to write songs.
2) It's even harder to write songs in another language.
3) It's almost impossible to write in another language when the best dictionary has words like "viscous" and "inflorescence" rather then words like ache, artist, smile. . .
4) Making the elves speak Sindarin was therefore nearly impossible due to the incompleteness of the dictionary.
Ah, but how fun this chapter was. Next chapter though, I regret to say, the elves will not speak in Sindarin. They will speak in italics when speaking Sindarin. It's just so much easier to write, and I can make them say so much more.
~Crawler
P.S. Would anyone mind a Gil-galad/Glorfindel more prominent?