Chapter Four: Servants and Lords
A shrill wail woke Elrond not two hours later. He scrambled out of bed and hurried to his parents' room to investigate.
Nearly tripping over the threshold, he regained his balance and composure as Elwing bent over the cradle next to her bedside. Gathering a child into her arms, she gave the elf-lord a smile as she sat on the edge of the bed next to Eärendil, who seemed to be still asleep.
"Elros is thirsty," Elwing explained in a whisper. "Was there something you needed?"
"I just heard him crying and came to see what was amiss," Elrond replied. "But I see you have it under control."
She nodded, smiling. "You needn't worry too much. But I appreciate your concern."
He nodded also. "Well, as I'm not urgently needed, I think I'll just…" The elf-lord turned to leave.
"Don't go," said Eärendil, sitting up; it appeared he'd been listening. "I've been meaning to speak with you about what occurred at dinner yesterday. Am I right in assuming that the guests you invited were the lords Mandos and Lórien?"
"Yes," Elrond replied. "You're right."
"How is it that you were deep enough in their counsel to be able to do such a thing in such a casual manner?"
This time the half-elf took awhile to reply.
"I… it's a long story. I don't know if it would be right to tell you right now. No offence meant," he added hastily. "But it's very, very complicated."
Eärendil nodded slowly. "I see. Perhaps you will tell us when you feel the time is right... and perhaps not. But I won't press you."
"Then I'll take my leave," said Elrond. "Thank you, and good night." He gave a polite bow before he left.
----
"Master Elrond?"
The elf-lord woke to the soft feminine voice after a sound and restful sleep. Blinking in the sunlight that was pouring in from the open window, he smiled when he recognized the redheaded elleth who had directed him to the banquet hall the previous evening.
"Quel aur," (Good morning) he said brightly.
Blushing scarlet, she returned the greeting. "Did you rest well, hir nin?" (my lord)
"Very well," he replied, getting up from the bed, stretching and picking up a comb from his bedside table.
As Elrond tidied his hair, he observed the young elleth making his bed. Her movements were smooth and automatic; it was clear she'd done this hundreds of times before.
"What is your name, miss?" he asked conversationally.
The elleth jumped and blushed again, looking embarrassed at being addressed formally. She busied herself straightening the already wrinkle-free blankets for a short while before she replied, "My name is Caranel."
"'Red Star.' A fitting name," Elrond nodded, eyeing her fiery locks. A sudden, hostile thought came to him, a snippet of a prophecy. Beware the ones with hair of flame…
Stop it, he chided himself. Remember the rest of the prophecy? It hasn't been four years, only a few hours. You're fine.
"Is something wrong, Master Elrond?" Caranel asked, now fluffing the pillows on the bed without looking.
"No," the elf-lord replied, shaking his head. "I was just lost in thought for a moment."
Caranel nodded. "That can happen."
Finished with the pillows, she smoothed a tiny wrinkle in the bedspread before turning to Elrond and bobbing a curtsy. "Shall I fetch you some breakfast, sir? Is there anything specific you'd like?"
"Nothing fancy," he told her. "Some fresh fruit and buttered toast will be fine, and a glass of water."
"Be iest lin," (As you wish) the elleth nodded, and departed softly.
Elrond sat carefully on the edge of the perfectly-made bed, considering his plans for the day. Care for the babies, possibly talk with Lórien and Mandos, and do anything in his power to keep rumours of his exploits from reaching every pointed ear in Sirion. Hmm… well, it could use a little work.
And there were still a few nagging feelings wrestling inside him. One was the warning Lórien had given him last night; the other was the insistent urge to tell someone why he was really in Sirion. But how was he to know if people would believe him?
He was jolted back to reality by Caranel's return. She stalked through the door in a huff, but it melted to compassion and perhaps pity as she approached Elrond and set his plate on the bedside table. He saw it held four slices of toast, and several slices and chunks of fruit arranged neatly around a goblet of water.
"Long faces only belong on horses," Elrond told her calmly. "Man le trasta?" (What troubles you?)
Caranel sighed dejectedly. "You wouldn't like it."
"Tell me," said Elrond, slightly more sternly. "I insist."
"Very well," the elleth complied. "There was a bit of trouble in the kitchens. It seems all of the other servants are deathly afraid of you. What with you inviting the Fëanturi to the celebration last night, they think you'll bring us all to doom."
"So, it appears you'll be my personal servant, then," Elrond smiled, casually selecting a bit of apple from the plate and nibbling on it. "I won't be hard on you, I promise."
Caranel smiled briefly. "Thank you, but there's still more. When I told the head cook who your breakfast was for, he practically shoved me out of the kitchen, yelling, 'Better to feed that to the dogs than that elf! He'll bring the Haven down on our heads and call on Mandos to reap the harvest!'
"It was awful, sir," she lamented, sinking down onto the bed. "I was grateful when he slammed the door behind me. Grateful! They think you're a curse waiting to happen, a spider lurking in its web."
"Well, what do you think?" Elrond asked.
"Me?" cried Caranel, looking shocked at being asked her opinion. "Sir, I think – in fact I know – that you are possibly the best thing that has happened to this Haven! You saved Lady Elwing's children, and she herself! Who knows what might have happened to the three of them if you hadn't been here?"
"You can praise Lord Eärendil for that," Elrond told her. "He was the one who found me. I had been hopelessly lost when he came up to me and told me of Lady Elwing. Speaking of which, how is she?"
"She's fine," Caranel replied. "So are Lord Eärendil and the young princes."
Elrond smiled. "Good."
He finished his meal, watched silently by Caranel. She picked up his empty plate and goblet with a polite curtsy and softly left the room, just as two figures materialized before him.
"Good morning, my lords," said Elrond politely, bowing low to Mandos and Lórien. The Valar nodded their heads in reply, and something that had been nagging at the back of Elrond's mind came softly to the front of it.
"Lord Mandos?" he said tentatively.
"Yes?"
Elrond forced himself to meet the Doomsman's shimmering blue-green gaze. "I've been wondering… what exactly would happen if I wandered just a bit too far from myself? And how far is too far?"
"You will be safe anywhere within an approximate five-mile radius," Mandos informed him. "As for the consequences of exceeding that… observe."
Reaching into his robe, the Vala pulled out a handkerchief which seemed to be made of the same glimmering fabric as his cloak. Holding it out between his thumbs and forefingers, he slowly moved his hands further apart.
The cloth, unable to stand the stress, soon ripped in two. Mandos cast the pieces aside, saying calmly, "Am I clear?"
Elrond nodded, watching the scraps float down like the torn wings of a raven. "Crystal."
----
"Look, there he is…"
"The Valar's best friend?"
"That's right. The princes' godfather."
"Didn't Lady Elwing name one of her children after him?"
The whispered conversations that drifted into Elrond's keen ears made his neck prickle. He willed himself to stay calm, to resist turning around. That would be asking for trouble.
He sped up slightly from his leisurely pace when he saw his father ahead of him. The elf leant against a wall, arms folded over his chest, apparently brooding. He looked up as Elrond called his name.
"Good morning," the Lord of Sirion said, his face breaking into a smile. "How are you?"
"Fine, thank you," Elrond replied. "And yourself?"
"Actually, I was thinking about something I remember hearing at the banquet last night," Eärendil replied. "I heard some of the guests saying to each other that you've been… how did they put it… 'strutting like you own the place'?"
"That, sir, is a load of rubbish," Elrond retorted hotly. "You should know; you were with me for the better part of the day."
"I know that, and you know that," Eärendil said calmly. "But it seems that the majority of my people do not. Have you heard anything of the like?"
Elrond nodded. "A young servant girl, Caranel, told me that your head cook believes I'll bring your Haven to doom; but she herself thinks I'm a blessing. What do you make of that?"
Eärendil nodded pensively. "Caranel is a kind soul; she hates to put anyone down. I think in this case she was being perfectly honest."
"And what of the rest? Rumors start small, but they often blossom beyond control. How will we handle it?"
"Just leave that to me."
"Right." Elrond smiled. "How are your wife and the children?"
"They're all right – Elwing is just giving them some breakfast. Would you like to see them?"
"I'd love to. Lead on, sire."