Crossing the Sea
Exploring
.oOo.
"Where are we going?" He asked as he tried to keep up with the elf's long strides.
"You'll see," Gildor said as he led the way through the winding hallways.
The younger elf knew better than to ask again. Gildor wouldn't let him in on their destination once he had decided to keep it a surprise. That was just his way, he enjoyed keeping elves on their toes with anticipation.
As they walked, Aerandir caught sight of the stirring elves in the house. Servants went about their chores, messengers and scribes passed them carrying various packages or piles of papers. The whole house was humming with activity and Aerandir found it nice to see so many elves gathered together in one place.
Back home, most elven families had their own little abodes and only those working went to their workplaces. Unless it was time for a festival or something else universal elves were very solitary creatures. At least on the coast, but it could be a quirk only the seafaring elves had. Aerandir's own home was large enough to house three generations of elves, but more often than not it stood empty. Being a family of seafarers meant most of the men were out at sea, sometimes for days at a time. Only the women, his mother and grandmother could be found at home at all times. Hence, it was a nice change to see a house as lively as this one.
"Aerandir."
He locked eyes with Gildor's smiling ones. The older elf's blue pools reflected a shimmer of light, causing crystal speckles to emerge in the normally icy blue orbs. Tearing his eyes away from the them, Aerandir saw the true reason they had stopped.
He could but gape at the sight.
Behind Gildor, a huge garden spread out before his eyes. Aerandir found himself lost for words as he moved almost on autopilot a few steps past Gildor's towering form. A wall of sunlight swallowed him as he walked out from underneath the roof unto the small porch, which further on gave way to strategically placed stepping-stones.
Clear birdsong reached his ears from where birds he had never seen sat perched in the flowering trees. A small stream meandered through the garden, fed by one of the nearby waterfall pools. He stepped along the stone path, walking among lush bushes and flowers of all colors. Patches of flowering plants grew along the paths and some grew down the side of the stream, hanging over it so that their petals almost kissed the dancing waters. Bees and butterflies drifted through the air from one area to another as they relished in the splendor of spring. It was like a secret hidden from the world and Aerandir stood mesmerized, unable to believe how untainted the very earth felt.
The path suddenly split up into several smaller ones, each leading off into different parts of the garden, each of which held their own resplendent flower displays. Aerandir twisted around for a moment as he followed them all by eye before finding one in particular. One leading to a brilliantly white gazebo, which lay nestled among flowering plum and magnolia trees.
The gazebo itself sat on a small upraised area, from which it was overlooking a bend in the sparkling stream. Vines intertwined with the upholding pillars of the structure, adding splashes of color with their deep purple and blue flowers.
"Judging by your expression it was all worth the long walk here," came the soft words breathed lightly into Aerandir's ear.
Jerking away Aerandir covered his now hastily reddening ear with his hand, trying to put some distance between himself and the now very pleased face Gildor sported. Had he been so absorbed with the view that he had not even noticed the elder elf's approach?
"Well?" Gildor asked.
"It's wonderful," Aerandir said breathlessly, fingers playing with the hem of his tunic as he tried to keep his blush down. "Actually, it's quite magnificent."
Gildor glowed at the shorter elf's appreciation of his efforts. "I knew you would love it."
The light-haired elf grasped Aerandir's hand and proceeded to lead the elf further down the path towards the gazebo.
"It is Lady Celebrian's garden, one of her most beautiful projects here in Imladris." Gildor explained as they treaded carefully along the stone path. "Although the head gardener is the one who keep it in order these days. Elrond tells me this is where your mother could be found most of the time she was missing from the house."
Aerandir's eyes widened and studied the scenery with even more fervor than before. Indeed, he could see small signs of his mother's green thumbs: In the arrangement of plants, in the characteristic choice of flowers. Small but indicative signs of Celebrian's period in the valley. Somehow, the stories of Celebrian's life did not seem like a simple figment of his imagination anymore. No, this was proof that it had happened in this very place.
Aerandir's eyes locked onto one patch in particular, made up by a group of rose bushes. His mother always loved her roses. Seeing the wonderful fauna of roses; pink, red and pure white growing in harmony with the rest of the gardens inhabitants made it more real than ever.
Reaching the gazebo, Aerandir realised that this was the place his mother had tried to replicate back home, though this version was definitely more beautiful than their own. He climbed the finely hewn stone steps, his fingers tracing the arch of the gazebo's entrance way as he entered and then lowered himself into a sit on the delicately carved bench inside.
"My mother loved this place," he said softly, eyes still taking in the fine handiwork of the Imladrian carpenters. "She still speaks of it. I never thought it would be this beautiful."
"I am told it was a wedding gift from Lord Elrond, made especially for her use. She started this garden upon her moving here as his wife, and soon it became a private haven for them. The Lady Arwen still enjoys most of her time in this garden while she is here," Gildor mused, enjoying the surrounding calm and beauty the garden offered.
"A gift fit for a queen," Aerandir commented still in awe, his eyes reading the short love poem carved along the beam in the ceiling. "To be given a gift such as this, who would not be overjoyed? I had never imagined Lord Elrond to be a romantic."
Gildor moved in closer, one blond brow rising. "Shall I give you one?" he asked innocently.
"What..!?" Aerandir flushed, looking away once again, too embarrassed to keep eye-contact. He could feel the heat radiating off the other elf, and it only intensified his overheating face.
"I meant that it is an honorable gift indeed, this gazebo. Though, I must confess, I always wanted to depict this scene." Aerandir's eyes started to little by little commit the architecture and the plant life that surrounded them to memory. "I've heard her description of this place so many times... Now that I have seen it with my own eyes I wish to eternalise it even more. Perhaps by doing so, I can take a piece of it back with me for her."
Gildor smiled warmly, pulling back to rest against the backrest. "I'm sure you will have plenty of time to do so if you wish. It is still spring after all. Rivendell is sheltered, more protected from the elements than most parts of Arda so you will have plenty of time to enjoy its pleasures yet."
Aerandir let the words seep in a bit more. His eyes already scanning the scenery and thinking of what materials to use, how he would dye his threads... The garden was so vibrant and he wanted to catch its very essence in his work. Only then would he do its beauty justice.
Gildor sat in silence simply studying the youth beside him. Aerandir, however, was too absorbed in his thoughts to notice his gaze. Gildor mused over how he looked sitting there, with the garden backdrop and the sunlight twinkling over his form from between the leaves. If Gildor didn't know better, he would have thought that Aerandir was a true resident here in Imladris. He certainly had the features.
Long, ebony hair that flowed down his back in a shiny waterfall. The strands had a newfound wavy quality to them after entering the valley, probably due to the humid air. Gildor could imagine the hairs curling further in the salty sea breeze of Aerandir's home. The tendrils brushing his skin as he walked along the shore.
His cheekbones were similar those of the Noldor, but the delicate chin had to be Galadriel's influence. Aerandir's skin tone was more surprising. The tan hue carried a somewhat golden tint to it Gildor had not seen in these lands yet. Only in the lands to the south did he see similar shades, but none were as glowing as this elf's. It made him extremely exotic compared to normally pale skin of elves. There was no doubt in Gildor's mind that the elf would turn out to be quite handsome after maturing more during his first millennia. With the air of wisdom gained by long years, the mysteriousness around him would only grow.
Aerandir's eyes were a whole different matter. The orbs were a deep blue shade right now, but Gildor knew that once the sun touched them the violet tinge he had become so familiar with these past few weeks would return in full. In fact, Gildor found that those eyes were the most expressive part of the elf, who otherwise kept his features quite controlled. He had been worried at first at his guarded manner, but soon the younger elf started to drop some of his close-guardedness while in his presence. It was reassuring as well as pleasing as it allowed him to read those ever-changing eyes more easily. They had a magnetic pull to them, one Gildor always associated with Arwen's own. A feature that the both of them had inherited from their mother, who in turn owed their mysteriousness to her mother's. The dark lashes surrounding them only enhanced this property and gave them a finish that was hard to look away from. Like jewels sparkling in the dark, alluring and disarming at the same time.
"Lord Gildor?"
The elder elf snapped out of his musings to find another dark head leaning in over the balustrade, gray eyes watching him suspiciously as if he had been up to no good.
"Elladan! How nice of you to join us," Gildor greeted, only to be ignored by the other elf.
Elladan stared fixedly at Aerandir who had just managed to pull himself away from the alluring sights of the garden in favor of their new visitor. Elladan smiled invitingly. "I am to give you a tour, Lord Aerandir. I am informed you will be staying with us for a while?"
"Ah, yes," Aerandir spoke softly. "I will be relying on you and your lord father's kindness for a while. It is a most gracious act and I sincerely thank you for the hospitality. And please, Lord Elladan, I am no lord."
Gildor noted the way the younger elf picked on the hem of his tunic again, eyes wide as they answered Elladan's with a pleading gaze. Gildor understood his feelings. It must be awkward, to be addressed as such by your own blood.
"Very well. Aerandir it is then, but only if you will return the favor?" Elladan asked, amused, once he noticed the elf's nervous body language.
"Of course, My Lord – Elladan – I mean." Aerandir corrected hastily.
The wide smile that followed could only mean that the slip had been noted and the correction accepted. Elladan moved over to the entrance and was soon followed by an eager Aerandir. The whoosh of empty air beside him caused Gildor to frown.
"What, am I not offered a tour too?" Gildor asked, put off by being left behind.
He watched the taller elf herd the shorter one in front of him, hurrying his steps. Elladan's dark head turned back at him. "You know the place like the back of your hand already! Find something more grown up to do!" Elladan called back at him, before they disappeared around the bend.
Gildor sat gaping for a moment, shocked by the elf's audacity. 'Grown up.. Grown up!'
"Your an adult too..!" He grumbled darkly. Really, young elves these days!
.oOo.
"This is door it to the library, the Den of Erestor, if you ever need to find him," Elladan said cheerfully before turned serious, his voice lowering as if telling a scary fairytale to child, drawing suspense into his words. "I would not enter there unless you need written words or information. Even then, should Lord Erestor find you, be prepared to have your ears fall off!"
Elladan watched the younger elf with him pale dramatically before continuing. "And by all that is holy, do not ask him about the lays. That is, unless you want to listen to him reciting poetry for the rest of the afternoon."
"Is he really that bad?" Aerandir asked curiously with a small hint of fear.
"He is a scholar with far too much time on his hands for the safety of Rivendell," Elladan said with a grin on his face.
"Usually he is in his office by Adar's own, but if do you find him in the library that means he is free to pester others. That is when you will want to avoid him.." Ellandan trailed off, before realisation seemed to hit him.
"Unless, you are a scholar too?" He asked suspiciously, noting the lack of warrior build in his companion.
"Heavens, no!" Aerandir waved his hands in the air as if to dispel that notion. "Though, I enjoy a nice book now and then, I am more of a visual person."
"Hmm.." Silver eyes studied his flustered face. "What do you do then?"
Aerandir pushed some of the hair swept loose by the wind behind his ear, eyes focusing forward. "I craft."
Dark eyebrows shot up towards his hairline. "You are a carpenter?" Elladan's head tilted to the side, as if trying to fit that profession unto his single tour member's exterior.
"Not really," Aerandir said slowly, the words nearly inaudible among the hustling in the corridor.
"An artisan then," Elladan finalised. He had to admit the arts would fit the smaller elf well.
"I guess you could call it that."
Elladan frowned in confusion. "What exactly does it entail then?"
Aerandir sighed, thinking of how to best explain his occupation. "I work fabrics, many kinds really. But the more extravagant work involves weaving and embroidery."
"You make clothing?" Elladan asked, shocked.
"No.. Clothes are small in comparison, although I have made some before. I use large expanses of cloth which I color and embroider to make scenes, or something else requested by the client. I have made banners and silk weaves enough throughout the years. At home, I have a large loom on which I make my finer wall tapestries. But I enjoy embroidering scenes the most."
Elladan watched as the younger elf looked up carefully, as if he expected to get ridiculed for his choice of occupation. Those familiar lavender eyes darkening into a shadowed blueberry hue.
"You may laugh, Elladan. I know most think it a more feminine occupation." His voice was weak, as if he thought so himself.
"I won't laugh at you Aerandir." Elladan answered. Stormy gray eyes flashed with anger at the thought that someone would dare to treat the smaller elf badly simply because of his trade. "It is an honorable trade. One few of us are proficient in these days, as most of our more artistic residents have chosen to sail west."
He led them around a corner, changing his mind about where to end the tour of Imladris.
"In fact," Elladan explained as they climbed stairs to the next level, "I gather you will find yourself quite appreciated here in Imladris. I, for one, know my father is particularly fond of your art style."
He walked with a hidden smile as he pulled a pair of heavy, large doors open.
The hall they entered next was dim, no real light illuminating the space except for a beam of sunlight that streamed in through a glass inlet in the ceiling placed in the middle of the room. As he had been in the hall plenty of times before, Elladan moved with unrivaled grace as he located and lit one of the wall sconces. The action caused a chain reaction, which led to the fire spreading to other sconces in the hall. Now, properly lit, the hall's true grandeur revealed itself.
Elladan heard the gasp emitted from beside him and watched proudly Aerandir's reaction to the Hall of Ages. Even in the soft lighting he could see the wide eyes and the sudden glitter in them when the younger elf saw the artworks spread throughout the hall. The elf was shaking with restrained energy brought upon by the fine crafts.
Deep, blue pools flickered towards him asking for permission.
"You may." Elladan said softly, but the shorter elf was already off into the hall before he even finished the words.
Aerandir walked around in a daze. Never had he seen so many artworks gathered in one place before. As he came closer to the walls he was even more amazed by the fact that not all of the images before him were murals. No, some of them were very intricately made wall tapestries. He let his eyes wander over one particular piece that had called out to him more than the others. The image was of a great, fiery beast being challenged by a golden haired warrior.
The weave itself was exquisite. Aerandir pondered that it must have taken ages to make it. Each strand had been chosen separately, probably even dyed individually to create the perfect hues. There was no empty spaces, instead unbelievable detail showed off even the texture of the cliffs.
Aerandir's trained eyes easily picked out the interwoven strands of silver and gold. Dare he even note some mithril in there? Unconsciously, he almost ran his fingertips over the fabric before staying his hand. It would not do to touch it as he might harm the ancient piece.
Gazing reverently at the image of perfection before him he did not notice the elf stepping up behind him.
"You know how to appreciate your art, young one," Elladan said with amusement. The darkhaired peredhel admired the work for a moment, allowing his fëa get connected with the story behind it. "This is one of my favorites actually. Who knew we had such similar taste?"
"You like tapestries, Elladan?" Aerandir asked with no small amount of wonder.
Elladan gave a benevolent smile. "I practically grew up in this hall. Me and my brother played through the adventures and heroic deeds depicted here and many of my history lessons were given in this very room. Erestor found it a particularly helpful tool in teaching us history, as we could be shown pictures and not just dusty tomes."
"Fascinating." Aerandir allowed his first true smile in Elladan's presence and the half-elf could not help but stare at the sight.
"You really should smile more often Aerandir."
Aerandir raised an eyebrow. "And you should appreciate history even without pictures," he retorted playfully.
"True, true. Though I must confess, at your age I found other past-times far more interesting."
"You are not that old." Aerandir did not believe this elf to be honestly reminiscing the past like an old man already.
"Indeed. Though comparing my roughly 3000 to your 300 years makes me feel old indeed," Elladan chuckled, he enjoyed teasing the elf.
Aerandir giggled at the words, before trying to look serious. "It is nothing really, compared to Gildor."
Hearing Gildor's name made something ugly twist inside Elladan's stomach. A familiar unease he felt around his sister, whenever too many eyes lingered on her. "Yes. Gildor is old. Very old."
If Aerandir found it strange why Elladan insisted on pointing out Gildor's ancient age he did not reveal it. Instead, he turned back towards the tapestry.
"Is the maker of this one still in Imladris?" he asked after studying it for some time.
Elladan's answer came as a shallow shake of a head. "That elf in particular sailed soon after marrying, or so I'm told. I was a toddler at the time."
"Good. That means I can find him in Valinor then." There was acceptance in the statement and a big, radiant smile spread on his lips.
Elladan was unsure how he felt about that.
In the end, Aerandir concluded his time in Imladris would be far more fun than he originally anticipated.
#To be continued..
Adar, Ada – Father
Peredhel – Half-elf (Half-elven)
Valinor – Land in the west across the sea where elves travel after tiring of Middle-Earth. Sometimes referred to as the undying lands.
Arda – Middle-Earth
AN Hope you enjoyed it! The progression is kind of slow, but it will build up faster further on. I think the next chapter will see some development between the twins and Aerandir. Oh, and Glorfindel lurks around the corner.
If anyone knows what the hall in which the Shards of Narsil is kept is called, please let me know! /DR