“And just look at her here. Such a little princess, even then.” Ilmendin turned to the next page, looking around to be sure that a certain elleth was still distracted with his presentation. “Ah, and just look at her, all grown up, killing her very first giant tree spider.” He smiled fondly at the sketch of his daughter and pointed to the page next to it. “She used to love going on orc hunts. Of course, she was always a perfect lady, first and foremost,” Ilmendin said quite seriously. The next picture showed the elleth being helped over a stream of dark orc blood, someone having tossed a cape down in her path so that she would not suffer to step into it.
“Haldir, isn’t this the one you were supposed to get married to?” asked Earwen, reaching forward to turn to the next page of the book. “Lovely lady, I must say,” she said, and Ilmendin beamed with pride at the complement.
“We did not share the same…interests…” said Haldir carefully, trying not to say anything that might upset Ilmendin, but he saw the elf nod with a smirk, and assumed he was in the clear. The majority of the family was assembled in the main parlor, but Celeborn’s parents and Ecthelion were happily finishing the decorations in the side of the house that would be used for the evening festivities, insisting that the three brothers who were originally assigned the task remain in the parlor for refreshments with their family. Haldir couldn’t help but think he’d gotten the worse end of the deal.
Elodien sipped her tea thoughtfully and then asked, “Whatever interests would those have been?” Her voice was full of question, but those of the household knew it was a trap that had been baited.
Haldir opened his mouth to answer, and hesitated, finally saying, “I cannot recall. It was so long ago.”
“Wasn’t one of the things that you had to come to live in Mirkwood?” asked Orophin with a grin. “Guess that backfired, didn’t it?”
“I am quite proud to have lived in Mirkwood,” answered Haldir, stiffening upon hearing Orophin’s remark, and Orophin frowned.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” argued Orophin. “I meant compared to the woods, trees are better to live in than caves.”
“I beg to differ,” interrupted Gimli. “Caves have a sort of cozy comfort that trees lack. And ah had such a hard time gettin’ up in those spindly grey trees of yours, I cannot imagine living in one,” he added.
“Spindly?” questioned Celeborn, but Galadriel took hold of his elbow to pull him back from getting into the discussion, and he was soon trying to figure out just what his youngest son was snickering silently about.
“Fine, caves are good,” Orophin said, waving off what Gimli had said, “but trees are better.”
“Are they?” Quiet for the majority of the time he spent in the house, Thranduil spoke now, and as always, everyone listened.
Orophin seemed to know he was already beat, but glanced up at the Sinda and realized that an answer was expected of him. “Living in a tree allows greater exposure to nature – the breeze, the sun, the stars-“
“The snow, the rain, the sleet,” nodded Thranduil, swirling his glass of brandy.
“Yes, that, too. Although, I was spoiled, living in Lothlorien, never really contended with harsh winters and summer storms,” admitted Orophin. “Trees do offer the advantage of shade and in some cases fruit and nuts if they grow upon them, and branches which fall from them can be used to fashion weapons and items of necessity.”
“They also harbor insects, birds, and other vermin.” Thranduil drank from his glass after warming his drink to his liking.
“Vermin?” questioned Orophin.
“Squirrels,” answered Thaladir, knowing Thranduil would not want a lull in the conversation even as he swallowed his drink.
“They’re fun to climb,” Orophin further argued.
“What, the squirrels?” questioned Thranduil with a hint of a smirk.
“No,” Orophin said pointedly. “The trees.”
“If you want slivers in your hands,” said Thranduil.
“He has a point,” nodded Haldir.
Orophin glared at his brother. “You’re not helping.”
“Yes, I know,” said Haldir, reaching for a cookie from the tray, steadying himself with one hand by holding onto Elodien’s elbow as he sat back on the couch. “But we Kings of Greenwood have to stick together. ‘Tis in the rules.”
There was a great clang from the hallway as the bell was rung, and the elflings bolted to the doorway and squealed with delight as they rushed down the hall.
“My word, child,” Earwen said, looking over to her daughter. “Have they not been trained in proper etiquette? To have them running to the door in such a way, like common house maids,” she scolded. “I’m sure your daughter never did such a thing,” she added to Ilmendin as he closed the album of sketches.
“Hmm, well, we didn’t ever have a bell on our door, so I do not truly know if she would have run to it,” Ilmendin answered politely. “More tea?” he asked, holding out his hand for her cup.
“Oh, thank you, yes,” she said as she handed him the cup and saucer. He gave her a nod and then headed to the kitchen. Orophin squeezed Valarda’s elbow and then ducked out the exit and followed behind Ilmendin.
Finding Ilmendin in the kitchen, Orophin asked, “Excuse me, perhaps you can tell me why it is that that witch of an elleth only acts nice to you. I desperately need to know your secret. Do you poison the tea?” he asked, watching as the smirking ex-prince poured hot water into the cup.
“She’s an old-age elf, not a new-age elf. She’s very stuck in her ways, a lot like Erestor and Thaladir and others who were ‘raised right’, as they would say. You just need to know how to talk to them, what topics they do and don’t discuss, that sort of thing.”
“Yes, but, honestly,” sighed Orophin. “Neither Erestor nor Thaladir ever asked me ‘So, Oro, is there something wrong with you that you have no children?’ In fact, I believe the two of them are probably much happier knowing I haven’t spawned anything,” he added. “But HER.” He threw his hands in the air.
“Exactly. It isn’t proper for an elf to bring up the topic, but it is just fine for an elleth to mention it. She’s doing her duty.”
“Her duty?” asked Orophin dryly. “Since when did making Orophin’s life a bloody miserable mess make it to her to-do list?”
Ilmendin placed a hand on Orophin’s shoulder. “She’s head of the family, in her mind at least. Lhunerin’s younger, and she’s a Sinda, not a Noldo. So Earwen thinks it is her job to make sure that everyone in the family is properly settled. That means a wife and children, a job or purpose, and a strong faith and love of nature. The last three are covered – she thinks you’re a carpenter,” Ilmendin said before Orophin could interrupt.
“Well, that’s almost true,” he agreed, patting the kitchen table he had built long ago.
“Everyone else is fairly set on the last three as well, so it’s only the first one she worries about. Now, knowing how she is, I’m doing my best to keep her at bay for a bit, and I am hoping something else catches her attention soon, because I can only make killing spiders sound glamorous for about another hour.” Ilmendin pointed to a small jar on the table. “Can you bring that here for me?”
Orophin nodded and picked up the container, handing it to Ilmendin. “What is it?” he asked, sniffing a little of the powder that had gotten on his fingers.
“Something I requested from Lord Elrond some time back for my mother. The crushed seed from a plant that soothes and calms ones nerves yet is undetectable by taste or smell.” He tapped a bit into the cup before sealing the jar, and looked up to see a wide-eyed Orophin staring at him. “Well, it can’t hurt,” he said, tucking the jar away in his pocket and returning around the corner to the parlor. As Ilmendin handed the cup of tea to Earwen, the pair who had been let in by the elflings stepped through the doorway.
“Glorfindel, Erestor, splendid to see you,” remarked Thranduil, with others in the room following his suit in greeting the new guests. Each of them was holding one of the elflings, who looked overjoyed to have their favorite uncles at the party.
“I apologize for our tardiness,” said Glorfindel, setting Tallasinde back down on the ground as he entered the crowded room. “I know we said we’d be late, but we’d planned to be here sooner, but then, what does time matter, really?” he laughed. Vilya still had her head tucked under Erestor’s chin and thwarted all attempts to be set back down, so he merely took a seat in the chair Nenniach offered to him and brought the elfling along.
Elrond waved off the apology, asking, “Are the roads very bad? I can understand how you might have been delayed.”
“Nay, Erestor lost one of his books and we were trying to locate it,” answered Glorfindel.
“I did not lose it,” corrected Erestor, rearranging Vilya into a more comfortable position on his lap. “I merely temporarily misplaced it. I believe it may even be in the house here, but it does not matter at the moment.” He smiled, looking around at everyone assembled, and caught the look of worry suddenly exchanged between three brothers and a sister. He filed this information away for the time being and hugged the elfling on his lap. “It looks as if nearly everyone is here,” he said to her.
“It is good to have you included in the celebration,” answered Celebrian, a bit nervous as she thought to the small, locked book she and her brothers had hidden away. Haldir stood up and joined his brothers near the doorway and whispered something that Celebrian could not hear, and prayed that Erestor did not notice. Luckily, it appeared he was much too involved with the elfling sitting on his knee to see the worried look she gave Haldir, who shook his head and sipped his drink.
Glorfindel was still standing at the door, hesitant to step further into the room. He glanced up at Galadriel and caught her eye, giving her a bit of a bashful sort of look. Within a moment she was on her feet, and then escorting him to her parents. “Adar, Naneth, I think you’ve met everyone else here, but I don’t believe you have ever been introduced to my nephew.”
“I do not believe so,” remarked Finarfin as he and his wife stood. He held out his hand, clasping Glorfindel’s arm as it was offered. “Of all my sons, you must be Angrod’s kin. Your eyes are like his were.”
“That I am. Glorfindel, as my mother named me,” he said. “Firstborn of Angrod’s children.”
“Glorfindel was quite famous on the other side of the sea,” Galadriel informed them. “There are a number songs and poems written of him, and two complete books.”
“Really?” Finarfin nodded approvingly. “You will have to tell us of your accomplishments, for surely Angrod was proud of you.”
“I... do not fly the flag of my father,” he admitted. “I am chief of the House of the Golden Flower.”
“What a lovely name for a house,” said Earwen, settling back down. “Come, sit by me and tell me of it.”
“Well, there’s not much to tell, really,” he admitted as he sat between his grandparents. “It’s a very small house, and named for the sun herself. That is all, I suppose.”
“And is there a Mrs. House of the Golden Flower?”
Glorfindel paled. “Well, not exactly…”
“A prospective Mrs. House of the Golden Flower?”
“No... “ Glorfindel looked to his aunt for assistance.
“Well, by the time, perhaps we should have dinner,” suggested Galadriel hastily.
“Dinner?” Earwen glanced out the window. “We’ve barely passed into the noonday. It’s much too early. Besides, we’re all enjoying our cocktails right now.”
Rumil began to choke on his drink and excused himself into the kitchen.
“Strange elf,” commented Earwen as she watched Rumil duck out of the room, then once more concentrated on Glorfindel. “Well, now, I don’t think all of the ladies here are married, I know I saw a few without marriage bands… Elodien, you’re not bound to anyone.”
“Well… I’m not even a hundred yet,” Elodien protested, wishing Haldir had come back to sit next to her.
Earwen scoffed at this. “I had given birth twice before my one hundredth year.”
“Peredhil do not age the same way the Eldar do,” spoke Elrond as he moved from the space he had occupied next to his wife, quickly shielding his granddaughter from further comment. Elodien had opened her mouth to defend herself, but closed it quickly as a reassuring hand was placed upon her shoulder after Elrond sat down in the spot Haldir had vacated.
Earwen knew enough not to challenge Elrond in his own house and scanned the room until her eyes landed on Nenniach. “What about you, dear?” asked Earwen.
“I’m already married, thank you,” replied Nenniach curtly, not about to put up with what Valarda and Elodien had been subjected to. “I have a child, too, so no need to fuss over that. And I’ll be the one fussing over him, so there’s no need to make suggestions as to who he should be marrying.”
“Only one child?” scoffed Earwen. “What have your parents to say about this?”
Erestor looked up abruptly as Vilya slid down off his lap to play with Tallasinde on the floor. Though he knew his daughter could well have held her own, he was still a parent. And he was not about to put up with what he was hearing. “That I have the most beautiful grandson in the world, and wouldn’t trade him for a dozen other grandchildren.” His eyes were dark and dared Earwen to press the matter. Rumil entered the room once more, and at the silence, quickly made his way to the safety of the area his brothers were standing in.
Surprisingly, she was quiet for a moment before saying, “Now if only more parents showed the same concern for their children and grandchildren as you and Lord Elrond do.” Her eyes sought out Galadriel, who had been keeping herself busy enough not to sit down. “See now, if you cared as much as Master Erestor did, I wouldn’t have to concern myself so much when I’m here.” Earwen shook her head and she added, “It’s really too bad you broke things off with him, he’s such a nice elf, dear one, he’d have made a fine husband for you.”
Mouths dropped and all side conversation stopped. Celeborn was coughing as if he was choking on something rather large, and Rumil’s glass had dropped from his hand. Erestor remained completely motionless, eyes boring into Earwen as he fought to find words to say that didn’t include cursing, for the little ones were now playing in front of the fire with their new toys. It was Orophin who broke the silence.
“So… broke things off… that would have required things to have been on at some point previously, would it not?” The glare he received from Erestor caused him to shrink back toward his brothers, who were looking between Erestor and their mother with mortification.
“Dammit, Oro,” hissed Rumil, “Why couldn’t you have expressed your surprise by dropping your drink like the rest of us?” As if on cue, Haldir’s goblet crashed to the ground.
“So, I’ve met your daughter and your grandson, then, where is your wife, Erestor?” pressed Earwen.
“I think,” said Erestor as he stood up, “that the snow outside has fallen so that there is just enough to make snowelves. Girls?” The elflings snapped their heads up, all attention drawn away from what they were doing. “Why don’t you get your mittens and scarves and join me outdoors. Please, Glorfindel, I don’t want to keep you from speaking with your grandparents, I know how you were looking forward to meeting them,” he said, corralling the elflings.
Earwen narrowed her eyes at the doorway as Erestor passed through. “How rude! He could at least have given a name. It’s as if he doesn’t want me to know,” she said. Everyone in the room avoided her gaze, but Glorfindel was not so lucky as he was still sitting next to her. “Glorfindel, tell me, who is Master Erestor married to?”
Glorfindel was up before Erestor was out of sight down the hallway. “I was just thinking, with how slippery it is outside, there should be some extra adult supervision,” suggested Glorfindel. “I shall return as soon as the snowelves are safely built,” he promised. On the way out, he picked up the dropped glasses from the feet of the three stunned Galadhrim and kept on going.
“My lord,” Thaladir said quietly, catching Thranduil’s attention. “Perhaps I should-“
“Help Erestor watch the children.” Thranduil gave a nod and Thaladir rose unnoticed and slipped out of the room.
As things in the room settled down, Earwen’s gaze fell upon Legolas. “I would imagine that like your brother, you have a family as well.”
Galadriel looked up in a panic, glancing over to Thranduil, unsure of just how far her mother intended to push things. To her surprise, Thanduil looked quite comfortable and relaxed, and she was shocked even further to hear the reply that came from Legolas.
“I’m not sure you met Lady Glorcheniel,” Legolas answered, and Glorcheniel gave a nod and a polite smile to Earwen. “You were speaking with Lord Celeborn as we entered, and I did not wish to disturb you.”
It was now Elrohir’s jaw that dropped as Legolas continued. “Glorcheniel and I have known each other since the day I arrived here in Valinor, though, we have yet to formalize anything. However, we’ve never had a fight, and we greatly respect one another.”
“Breathe,” hissed Elladan in his brother’s ear before nudging Elrohir in an attempt to get him to close his mouth. Not wishing to have a scene made in the parlor, he yanked Elrohir in the direction of the doorway, hoping he would follow.
It wasn’t until they were in the hallway that Elrohir offered his opinion. “That… little… grraaahhh!” He was definitely breathing now – quite heavily in fact – as he continued. “How… dare he! She’s engaged to me, dammit!”
“Us,” corrected Elladan, motioning that Elrohir should keep his voice down. “Engaged to us.”
“Either way,” Elrohir growled, “He’s got nothing to do with it.” He rested one arm on the railing leading up the stairs, head against the banister as his other hand rubbed his beard. “Dammit, dammit, dammit!” he said, pounding his fist against the railing with each exclamation. Elladan stood by, unsure of what exactly to do to calm his normally docile twin. “I can’t believe she’s doing this. I can’t believe I came to the West for this! What did I do to deserve this?”
“Again, that would be ‘we’. What did ‘we’ do to deserve this?” Elladan reminded him.
“Yes, yes,” Elrohir said, waving this off as he stepped from the stairway. He was still rubbing his chin as he said, “I can’t let him embarrass me like this. I’ll have to put up with Earwen’s prying next.”
Elladan began to state once more that it was affecting them both, but decided to take a different route. “Perhaps,” he said, “what we need to do is seek some sort of revenge for this.”
“What we’ll need to do,” Elrohir huffed as he walked back toward the parlor, “is seek revenge.”
“Now, why didn’t I think of that,” laughed Elladan as he followed behind.
Continued...