Xxxxxxxxxx The Orphanage in Mithlond xxxxxxxxxX
Lord Glirthon consulted with Laeste as the elflings filled the dining hall. They had tried to make it as warm and inviting as possible, knowing that many of their charges had seen too much in their young lives.
"There are thirty more at Hollings, but perhaps it is unwise to burden you."
"Each child needs personal attention. Too large a group, and they will retreat into themselves out of fright. My council would build smaller facilities, each staffed with permanent people. They could form lasting bonds with their young charges like a family." Laeste introduced Lord Glirthon to the other caregivers. Each of these elves would cherish interactions with the orphans. Soft chatter made her look up. Healer Silsilalda and Elrond entered. Elrond stood behind her, deferring to Silsi as the senior authority. Laeste's heart warmed at the peredhel's comely visage. She had helped care for the youth for years and grew to love him. She assumed that the young peredhel, who had spent time befriending the orphans, did not want to frighten them by taking on the role of authority.
"Have you prepared the elflings for our visit?" Silsilalda asked. It puzzled her that Lord Glirthon visibly tensed, for she had never had any ill dealings with the Ellon.
"You certainly brought enough supplies. Will that not frighten some?" Lord Glirthon ignored her companion.
"Undoubtedly it will." Silsilalda agreed as Elrond shifted one of the bags from off his shoulder. Mellow string sounds accompanied the movement.
"Perhaps some songs will make everyone feel better," Elrond suggested softly.
"Elfling, I trust you plan to sing and play." Laeste smiled at the endearing blush immediately spreading across the youth's cheeks. The children were enchanted by the peredhel's melodies. Silsi slowly moved among them, never once forgetting to bow and ask permission from the child before checking for hidden injuries and illnesses.
Xxxxxxxx A conference room in the royal library xxxxxxxX
"Thank you for the texts." Elros mumbled off-handedly as he turned back towards his councilors. The Lore Master had come to check if they sought more tomes from the great library.
"You are so different than your brother." Master Pengolodh huffed softly, offended that the upstart peredhel had again forgotten to address him by title. But this future King of the Edain turned and gave him a stare that made him stiffen first, then bow.
"What was that Pengolodh? Not a slight to my brother, I trust." Elros had attended a handful of Gil-Galad's council sessions during this visit. These were Elrond's first as a partial council member. Others had dismissed the young peredhel out of hand but were outwardly respectful out of fear of reprisal from their King. Yet Elros was as perceptive as his brother and could easily see through the masks, especially Lord Ferchíl, who seemed to hold Elrond with special disdain.
"No, my Lord," Pengolodh replied politely, having recognized in the stoic visage Turgon's disgruntled demeanor. He met the powerful gaze steadily as he mentally compared the leaders. "Your brother is one of the brightest pupils I have yet tutored. He will grow into a Lore Master of great stature."
"Well said," Elros paused and held the Lore masters' gaze for a long moment. "Master Pengolodh, can you provide us with your opinions and evaluations on how effective these different approaches turned out to be?"
"Opinions?" The Lore Master repeated uncomprehendingly.
"Which laws of these elven realms were most successful at protecting the rights of the indigent and the young? What personal freedoms were guaranteed within these realms?" Elros laughed low at the expression on the Lore Master's face. "I take it personal liberty was not guaranteed by my illustrious ancestor in Gondolin. Were you involved in the crafting of these laws?"
"I was often consulted. Gondolin's laws sought to protect the greater populace and shroud the city from Morgoth's reaches. Personal liberties were not among my King's top priorities."
"Then your opinions would be most valuable. We are considering ways to establish ordinances and rules of law to protect our populace." Elros motioned for the elf to join them at the round table. Pengolodh appraised the youthful Edain faces and nodded to the Peredhel as he moved to join their discussion.
Xxxxxxxx Council Chambers in the Havens xxxxxxxX
"When will the first fleet of ships be ready to sail?"
"There is no telling when the Teleri will arrive. It could be as early as this autumn."
"The Vanyar were most gracious in volunteering to leave Aman and fight for distant cousins. We should accommodate the Vanyar first." Finarfin acknowledged.
"Many of our people are weary of the fighting and heart sore. I believe it is in our best interest to return to Aman quickly, especially now that the Valar and most of the Maiar have departed." Ingwion agreed.
"Tarwatirno has made a count of the injured, without regard to their background. We have listed them according to the need. Many will require healing in the Gardens of Lorien." Lord Manveru informed them.
"With the addition of the Teleri ships, all the remaining Vanyar and some of Noldor may be able to sail forth together."
"The Teleri will come ashore?" Finarfin's brow curled upwards. "They would not hear of stepping onto these lands during the war."
"Cirdan has established a small settlement of Teleri at the new Havens. The missive delivered by the eagle suggests that the Teleri of Aman are receptive to coming ashore at least briefly."
"Once the Teleri ships arrive, my guess is that we would have a few days to a week to gather elves and supplies. I doubt that the Teleri would suffer much time ashore, as they were adamantly against even touching these lands when they shuttled us here." Ingwion noted. "We should plan an autumn departure. It will be easy enough to push the timetable back if needed."
"Our departure will relieve some pressure on the land's finite resources."
"Lord Orondo and his patrol are the only group of Vanyar inland. With your orders, my Lord, I would send word for them to return immediately."
"Do so immediately." Ingwion ordered, but Lord Gildor rose unexpectedly.
"Allow me to carry your orders, Lord Ingwion. My band of warriors can take over Orondo's patrol route."
"You and your warriors have decided not to sail?" Aran Finarfin questioned.
"Unlike those in Turgon's entourage, all among our wandering band are free to choose. However, only two now seek passage West. For many, this is the only home they have known. They would not abandon these lands now that Morgoth has been vanquished."
"The majority of those who desire to depart have already gathered at Mithlond."
"We will take count of the Vanyar and any Teleri from Cirdan's realm who seek passage west. Then we can estimate how many of the Noldor we can accommodate on the first voyage."
"If possible, we should at least help with the first harvest." Finarfin frowned. His heart would feel better if he knew those that remained would have a bountiful harvest. He was looking forward to a hearty meal. Most elves were not satisfied with the current rations. As it was, Earwin would likely fret over how thin he was.
"Much will depend on the Teleri. They are unlikely to delay." Ingwion pointed out, not unkindly. The afternoon was spent hashing out details and dividing responsibilities among the tribes. The remnants of those from Himring were not represented, although one name, Celebrimbor, kept surfacing as their possible representative. Finarfin made a mental note to seek this grandson of Fëanor out. Rumor was that the youth had parted with the elves of Himring and had sought Findaráto's protection in Nargothrond. What was not clear was how long he stayed in the doom kingdom nor where he had been since. Finarfin turned his attention back to the tasks at hand. It was many hours before they adjourned. Indeed, the sun was already setting when Finarfin and his entourage began the long walk back to Mithlond. Even elven eyes could only make out shadows in the nascent palace gardens when they arrived at the palace. Finarfin, however, detected the fëa of another, although he could not see anyone. His guard knew him too well and responded quickly.
"Sire, is there danger?"
"No," Finarfin reached out with his senses. His thoughts scanned the garden, interrogating the shapes and shadows with the mental acuity that had made the house of Finwe renowned. This presence was young and uncertain, though wrapped in a power that spoke of something beyond elves. His tongue tasted grief on the wind – wind that cloaked and hid its friend. "It is one of the peredhel. Keep watch and secure the garden I would have a word with him." Finarfin followed the wind with his heart, distrusting his sight. His feet propelled him forward toward a row of sapling trees. "Cherries, pecans and oaks" his mind supplied as a slight figure materialized suddenly solid and tangible. Wisps of smoke floated around the seated figure, seeming to lend credence to folktales about how Melian bewitched Thingol.
"Elrond, good evening." Finarfin smiled as the Peredhel startled and jumped to his feet. He noted the tracks of tears on the youth's face but did not comment.
"Aran Finarfin." The youth stuttered then promptly bowed as he discreetly tried to wipe away his tears. "I apologize. I did not hear you."
"It is I who should apologize. Forgive me for startling you, Earendilion." The youth looked down at the mention of his Father's name. Finarfin pat his shoulder soothingly. "We have safely packed the portrait of you and your brother. It will be my honor to present it to them and tell them what fine adults you have become. Have you given thought to the suggestion of a letter?" He put his arm around the unsettled youth and sighed.
"It will be a few years before these trees are large enough to climb. My Ambaráto would always hide in the largest Mallorn in the court garden when in trouble. It usually fell to Findaráto to fetch him." Silver eyes shiny with unshed tears turned towards him in surprise, but the reticent youth remained silent. "We had many years to treasure our children. But for many years, we have yearned for any word of them. Your parents will treasure any note you write them regardless of what it says." The youth rubbed at one of his wrists. Finarfin noticed the faint raised line on the fair skin. The small scar would not be recognizable in another century or two, although it would still plague this beautiful soul.
"You have endured and thrived despite such overwhelming adversity. There is nothing to be ashamed of. There is no need to dwell on the past nor divulge things you would rather leave behind." The youth stiffened ever so slightly but otherwise, gave neither confirmation nor denial that the King's supposition fell close to the mark. "The things you have achieved thus far, you have earned on your own merits. I am proud of you and your parents will be too. Hearing of even one of your accomplishments would ease your parents' worry and assuage some of their deep-seated guilt. Perhaps you could tell them of your study of the healing arts, or you might send a sample of your writings. They would dearly cherish a copy of one of your books."
"I do not remember him." The admission was barely audible, but Finarfin understood.
"There is no reason to include such an admission." Finarfin soothed. "If you were my son, I would crave word of your life and hope that you had found people who love you to stand near you in my absence."
Xxxxxxxx Palace guest rooms xxxxxxxX
"Indiriel asked if Elrond could travel as part of our party." Gellir felt the muscles under her hands stiffen, but she continued to knead the tense muscles. There was no need to guess that this was an unwelcome addition to their imminent departure.
"His presence alone increases our risk along the road. I would not have my family put in any danger."
"Our safety lies in numbers." Gellir calmly and methodically messaged the muscular torso. "Besides, no matter what, Gil-Galad intends that the youth return to the forest for healing and further instructions in the ways of the woods."
"Dior's line insights kinslaying."
"That had nothing to do with Dior's line or Elrond and everything to do with those forsaken Silmarils," she countered. "He is a youth facing a long separation from the last of his family."
"Why would he choose to be separated from his brother when he will forever be a lightning rod for controversy among elves? Why have the Valar dictated that he remains?"
"You think they dictated their choice?" she countered. Oropher only shrugged. "If they were merciful, they would have allowed the boys to see their parents. It's unthinkable that a Mother be forbidden to return to her sons." She paused in her efforts to rub her hand over her heart. The persistent ache at having lost one of her precious children would never go away. She shook away the melancholy that threatened to overwhelm her and focused on Earendil's young son. "You admire the Elrond's tenacity and selfless spirit."
"He is a credit to his line – a throwback to his great-grandparents and grandparents," Oropher admitted begrudgingly.
"Without their overwhelming personalities." She laughed at the comparison of the quiet elf with his boisterous ancestors.
"Give him time. Thranduil says he can be very talkative in the right circumstances."
"So you will allow him to join our travel party?"
"Yes, but I will demand a larger escort to ensure our safety. Also, we should advise Elrond to keep a low profile. I would not risk him inciting the ire of the conservative elements."
"Conservative! That is a misnomer for those who were against the coupling of his long-deceased ancestors – elves who would be happier if he and his brother had never existed."
"True, yet I think that until he earns the respect of the majority, his life will forever be in peril."
"Safety is sometimes beyond our control." She trembled slightly, but Oropher sensed her fear and quickly embraced her.
"Your safety is not something I would ever trifle with." Oropher kissed her.
Xxxxxxxx The Palace Gardens xxxxxxxX
"It is too quiet without Oropher." She watched him bristle and catch himself, and a mask of complacency descended over his visage. Galadriel smiled at her husband's reaction. They could not hide much from each other, so entwined were their fëar. "Fear not; he will return in the fall."
"They will not stay long. They are not made for a city of the Noldor." He turned towards the sun. It would be a decade before these seedlings could provide adequate shade.
"No," she agreed as she sat down beside him. "The Avari will awaken their craving for the forest. But neither will we remain here any length of time."
"You would leave Ereinion alone and follow me into the wilderness?" His whisper carried surprise.
"I would explore the world by your side." She traced his elegant neck with her finger.
"Once it is safe."
"Safe is uninteresting. Safe is not living." She kissed her ever-dangerously, thrilling warrior and ran her hands through the liquid metal strands of his hair. Celeborn ('silver tree') was much too tame a name for him.
"Your Adar would disagree." His eyes gave nothing away as he scanned their surroundings.
"My Adar sails in the autumn." Her smile quirked mischievously. He caught her teasing mouth with a scathing kiss, confirming her assessment that they were alone.
"An ill-timed look out the window," she thought incoherently before passion swept all worries aside. "Melethron."
Xxxxxxxx Traveling to the wedding xxxxxxxX
"Gather your equipment and wake your friend." Niphendriel smiled as she took her son's bowl. "Oropher wants us to set forth in half hour."
"Calimdriel will need more time."
"I will hurry your sister along. You take care of your sleepy friend." She laughed as Erestor rose. A dozen bedrolls were spread out around the far edge of the trees. Only one was still occupied. Its owner snuggled firmly inside, soundly asleep.
"Elrond, wake up." He smiled at the lack of response and gently pulled the blanket away.
"Cold." A low voice whimpered pitifully.
"Come, Elrond, you will miss the morning meal." He chided but pulled in his breath as the too-silver eyes blinked dazedly. It was unsettling to watch the changes in his friend, and he almost jumped as the trees rustled what could be taken as a morning greeting. No, he must be imagining things. Was this just do to the Maia part of his spirit going through adolescence? Or was it a Valar-decreed change? Erestor pushed the thought from his mind and instead pulled at a black braid, teasing his friend.
"Fine." Elrond groused as he sat up and rubbed at his eyes. "Are you taking lessons from Elros?"
"You would not be happy if I took any of his suggestions." Erestor laughed and turned to see who was approaching them.
"Peredhel, we can not have you missing breakfast. You might fall from that beast you call a horse." Thranduil laughed as he handed Elrond a bowl.
"Thank you for the feast Mellon-nin." Elrond accepted the porridge. "Braigsûl may be a free spirit."
"Ill-tempered, you mean." Thranduil corrected.
"But if he consents to bear you, he flies like the wind." Elrond's eyes lit up with pleasure at that thought, and he absently took a bite of porridge. "Thanks for saving some breakfast for me."
"Your brother asked me to look out for you. He said something about you disliking lembas." Thranduil laughed at the embarrassed blush that quickly spread across Elrond's face.
"An elf disliking lembas!" Erestor feigned horror. Teasing his friend was just too easy.
"Careful or I might divulge your dislikes." Their laughter was interrupted by Oropher's call to mount. Elrond quickly finished his breakfast as his friends helped him with his bedroll.
"Another week, and we should be celebrating with the Avari." Erestor was anticipating a rowdy party. "I have heard their dances are wild and entertaining."
"My brothers and I can vouch for that!" Thranduil exclaimed. "It will be a month to remember."