High Princes of Tirion
by Nemis

A/N: *huggles* I want to especially thank kalurien and ShinElrond for talking to me about babies and teething and names on MSN... And slimey bunnies...

Someone said you better can’t eat or drink anything during some parts of this chapter...

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Chapter Five     Names

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‘Names?’ Celeborn asked.

‘Ah,’ Elrond said, rather self-consciously. ‘Because of her silver hair, Celebrían and I decided to integrate it into her name for certain... But from there on...’

The Elf-lord beside him raised and eyebrow, more or less meaning “what could be so difficult about it?”.

‘How about Celewilin?’

Elrond sighed.

‘You will not believe how long we have tried names... They all just... Do not fit... I was desperate enough to suggest Celerodwen. But this is a name she shall have to carry for her entire life, unless she would decide to change it of course.’

Ereinion sniggered.

‘If we are speaking of names she can change later on in her life, how about Celaith?’

Celeborn frowned at the High Prince, as Glorfindel joined in the grandfather-assault.

‘Celebrohiril?’

‘You can name your horse or weaponry anything you like, but not my granddaughter.’

Ereinion and Glorfindel exchanged an amused glance. Elrond seemed deep in thought. Celeborn continued a more serious thread of names.

‘Celebwen?’

‘Celerin?’

‘Celebrilin?’

Leaving the other three standing at the door, his brow narrowed, Elrond entered the nursery and found Celebrían with their daughter, who among the members of the household, for the time being, had only been referred to as meluihên.

And lovely she was, Elrond agreed, as Celebrían handed the infant to him. Silver hair that would in time become as long as her mother’s... Her eyes almost exactly like Celebrían’s, surpassing even the former beauty of Vilya...

It was strange, he mused, placing his hand underneath the small head and holding his daughter gently as they walked towards the window. He had never hoped for this child, never expected it to be so… reassuring.

Small hands pressed against his chest and Elrond held her away a little, smiling, receiving a trusting smile in return, before one of his braids was caught in a tight-locked hold.

Celebrían followed and rested her head against his shoulder as she watched them both.

‘If she does not relinquish that, and I doubt she will, for a while at least, you are going to have to stay.’

He nodded and carefully stroked the little girl’s cheek, making her eyes close shortly as she uttered a sound of delight.

‘I would not leave, even if this were not the case.’ He smiled.

‘Have you decided?’ she asked, an entire world of curiosity lying within the query.

With a slow nod he turned towards her.

‘I think we can announce it.’

‘When?’ Her eyes glimmered.

‘Tonight. Let us announce that the Essecarmë is to take place this evening.’ Elrond replied, a broad smile playing around his lips now.

‘Are you not going to tell me?’

He grinned and pressed a kiss against the small head of his youngest daughter. Then he looked at Celebrían.

‘Celebriníel… I wish to call her Celebriníel.’

—~~*~~— some months later —~~*~~—

Her hair, of a deep auburn colour he had grown to admire much, cascaded down her back, unbraided, slightly curling at the ends.

Silently nearing, he smiled as he ran his fingers through it, and guided her head back so he could steal a breath from her lips, if only for a moment.

This hair colour was an inheritance of both her parents; her mother Vanyar, her father Noldor, but her grey eyes were from her father’s line, she had told, when he had asked, the first time he had dared kiss her.

That particular evening had turned out to be a quite memorable one indeed, for they had been together in her rooms, on the balcony to be more precise, long after the storm had chased them into shelter. And then his father had knocked, making his heart jump as if he had been an elfling caught at something forbidden.

Elladan grinned. That same night, his sister had been born.

Aurehen smiled, closing her eyes.

‘I suspected it might be you.’

‘Who else kisses you so?’ Elladan asked, trying to sound dismayed.

‘Let me think...’ she replied teasingly, before he could silence her with his lips.

It was one of the rare days that she had time off, and they had planned to spend it wisely; together.

‘My parents were alone out in the garden, so that might not be the best place to go,’ Elladan whispered, as he kissed her cheekbone.

‘Who is minding Celebriníel then?’

Elrond’s oldest son chuckled.

‘Ereinion.’

Aurehen turned and looked up at him.

‘You are jesting?’

The High Prince observed the little girl suspiciously as she sat on the table under his watchful eye, both of them waiting until her parents would relieve him of his childminding duty. Celebriníel looked back, all the while chewing on a small cloth rabbit he had brought as a present from Tirion when he had last returned.

Elernil, in turn, seemed to watch the both of them curiously.

‘She bites, you know.’ he said.

‘Bites?’ Ereinion frowned, ‘How hard can she possibly bite?’

‘Hard.’ Elernil returned, not a single emotion readable from his face.

‘Really?’

‘Really.’

Reaching out to her, Ereinion smiled.

‘It could never be that hard, could it now?’

With a radiant smile she dropped the bunny and settled for his hand and pulled it inquisitively.

‘I’d watch out if I were you,’ Elernil warned.

Ereinion looked at him and smiled forgivingly.

‘I think I am used to some pain, I assure you... Hey!’

Celebriníel had taken her chance in this unguarded moment and had indeed sunken her teeth into the High Prince’s smallest finger.

‘How to make her release?’ Ereinion asked, as she meanwhile alternated suckling and chewing.

‘You can’t, she’ll not let it loose,’ Elernil said, skipping off the chair and coming nearer. ‘Maybe we can keep her nose closed. I never tried that. She might let go.’

‘Or suffocate,’ Ereinion frowned. He did not feel like explaining to Celebrían he had tried to keep her daughter from breathing to save his finger. Then again, he was not sure if he did want to sacrifice a digit either.

Elrond and Celebrían watched the small commotion from the doorway of the library, having just returned from a peaceful walk.

‘Should we not help him?’ Celebrían asked, as Elrond looked on over her shoulder.

‘Are you in jest?’ the Lord of the House chuckled. ‘This is too precious to end. Besides, he is overreacting. She does not bite that hard.’

Celebrían slapped him playfully against the stomach, before stepping into the rooms. Elrond, hands behind his back, followed her slowly.

‘Is anything the matter, Ereinion?’ she asked while nearing, trying to keep from laughing.

‘Could you please remove this child from my finger?’ the exasperated High Prince asked, sounding much more helpless than he looked with the small child holding on to his hand.

Meanwhile, Elrond seemed to have a hard time keeping his composure.

The Lady of the House seemed to have less trouble in overseeing the situation and swiftly achieved her daughter’s surrender of the Elf-lord’s limb. For a moment it seemed as if Celebriníel would start to cry, but upon seeing her mother she giggled and forgot her disappointment.

‘Nana,’ she murmured, and Celebrían lifted her, placing the child on her arm.

Suckling on her own fist the child seemed peaceful for a moment, before discovering her father and raising her free hand towards him, almost as a greeting.

With quick steps he neared, catching the small fist and was treated to a content smile. Collecting the cloth-bunny from the table Elrond handed it to the elf-child, who pressed it against her chest and consequently lay her head against her mother’s shoulder, looking on.

‘Are you tired, my sweet?’ Celebrían asked softly, stroking the elfling’s back, and the child crept closer, resting her forehead against her mother’s neck.

‘Perhaps we should allow her some sleep,’ Elrond suggested, reaching out to stroke the little girl’s cheek and ear for a moment.

His wife nodded, pressing her hand lightly against the baby’s head.

Elrond looked at Ereinion.

‘We have a messenger from Tirion, just arrived. Your grandfather has summoned you, apparently.’

‘Was there any time mentioned?’ the High prince replied.

‘I gathered you were to go as soon as you could.’

Elernil caught Ereinion’s tunic and pulled it to get attention.

‘Can I come? Can I please come?’

The High Prince looked at Elrond. Elrohir and Mîrlinde had accompanied Celeborn and Galadriel back to the Gardens of Lórien a month ago, leaving their son in the care of his grandparents.

‘Your decision. But I would not mind taking him.’

Celebrían smiled as she looked back.

‘Let him go, El-nîn, they will both enjoy it.’ She looked at Ereinion. ‘And your grandfather would enjoy it too, I would venture to predict.’

The Master of the House nodded.

‘Very well, but he is your responsibility, Ereinion. You must promise to listen to him, Elernil.’

The High Prince nodded and Elernil smiled.

‘I promise.’

‘Do you need help packing?’ Celebrían asked her grandson, but Ereinion placed a protective hand on the boy’s shoulder.

‘I will help, there is no need...’

‘You’d forget half of what he needs,’ Elrond frowned.

‘I shall help,’ Aurehen offered as she walked into the room, closely followed by Elladan.

‘Thank you, Lady,’ Celebrían said, as she motioned Elrond to join her.

As Aurehen offered her hand to Elernil and left the library, Elladan walked over to Ereinion.

‘You are going to Tirion?’

‘Yes,’ he nodded, ‘My grandfather has sent for me.’

‘How long will you stay?’

‘It depends,’ Ereinion shrugged. ‘It could be mere hours, perhaps some days. If longer, I would have been informed beforehand, methinks.’

‘Would you mind if I accompanied you to the City? I have some business to attend to there.’

Ereinion smiled.

‘By no means would I object. And errand of your father’s?’

‘No,’ Elladan grinned. ‘An entirely private matter.’

—~~*~~—

Elrond sat reading quietly on the balcony of his study.

Ereinion, together with Elernil and Elladan had ridden out this afternoon to Tirion, the first because he had been requested to by Fingolfin, Elladan for no apparent reason.

Well, at least his eldest son seemed to hope everyone thought so. Elrond pursed his lips in an attempt to keep a smile off his face.

Most likely it had to do with rings. Silver rings.

‘About time too,’ he mused, finding he could not keep his mind on the book. He closed it and sat back, finding his daughter sitting at his feet, looking up at him.

He raised an eyebrow and looked around. No one there.

‘Well, well,’ he smiled, and Celebriníel grinned broadly, raising little arms to indicate she wished to be lifted.

Elrond did so and sat back again. ‘Now did you crawl all the way here? Hmm?’ he asked rhetorically, looking at his daughter on his lap.

He caught a hand she offered and chuckled.

‘Who was supposed to take care of you then?’ The girl chuckled as well and suckled one of his fingers. ‘Just do not...’ he began, but was too late, and unable to pull back his finger. ‘... bite.’

Rescuing his hand from recently-appearing teeth, Elrond tried to look stern.

‘You cannot simply sink your teeth into everything that you put into you mouth, Celebriníel...’

Evidently, his daughter disagreed, trying once more to catch his hand.

‘Addaa…’ she pouted, as soon as she understood he was not going to humour her.

‘Yes, Ada,’ Elrond said, trying to look strict. ‘Ada’s finger, not a dummy... Where is it anyway?’

Looking up, he found Celebrían amusedly observing them, arms crossed, the cloth plaything in one of her hands.

‘I always thought you made a very good biting toy.’

‘You tend not to bite very hard,’ Elrond returned dryly.

Suddenly, he felt a hand grabbing the front of his robes, and, finding her feet, Celebriníel pulled herself up, a little shaky, reaching up to touch his cheek for a moment.

Speaking a string of words not even her father, with his near-unlimited linguistic experience, could make heads or tails of, the elf-child smiled and dropped onto her backside again.

‘That was amusing,’ Celebrían laughed, watching Elrond’s astonished face.

‘That was frightening,’ Elrond replied, watching his daughter with different eyes. ‘How long has she been doing that?’

‘We just had the debut, I think,’ Celebrían smiled, as she sat down beside the two.

Their daughter smiled at her and reached for Elrond’s book, trying her teeth on the cover at once. Her father seemed too taken aback to stop her for the moment.

—~~*~~—

‘Where are we going?’ Elernil asked as he followed Ereinion.

‘Inside.’ the Elf-lord smiled as they both ascended the stairs. ‘You shall meet my Daeradar. He is your ancestor as well.’

‘Is he a High Prince too?’

‘He is,’ Ereinion replied, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder as they reached the top, entering one of the ancient mansions of Tirion.

‘What do they call this? A palace?’

‘They refer to it as the Halls of Fingolfin.’

‘Do you live here?’

‘I used to,’ Ereinion smiled. ‘But now I live with you when I’m not here, do I not?’

‘Yes,’ Elernil smiled back. ‘Can I meet your Daeradar?’

‘Certainly you can,’ the High Prince started, ‘for there he is.’

Indeed, Fingolfin, standing tall and dark, observed them from near the entrance of his study, speaking to a Lady Ereinion recognised with a jump of heart. Familiar grey attentive eyes, and a comfortable smile made Elernil grin back.

‘Well, Ereinion, I must be very much mistaken if you do not bring the grandson of Elrond into my Halls?’ the tenor voice welcomed them.

‘I do indeed, my Lord,’ Ereinion replied, moving his cousin forward, ‘for he has assented to be a messenger for me. This is Elernil, son of Elrohir.’

A deep melodious laugh escaped the elder of the High Princes, as he offered his hand.

‘Well met, Elernil of the House of Elrond, may you be as good a messenger as my grandson not long ago was.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Elernil replied.

‘You have a horse, I take it?’ Two pairs of grey eyes glimmered due to the question.

‘I do,’ the boy smiled, ‘my Ada gave him to me; he said I had to have a good horse if I was to be a messenger.’

Ereinion, meanwhile had turned to the Lady at his grandfather’s side, placing a quick kiss upon her cheek and catching her hand.

‘Tis good to see you, my Lady.’

She smiled broadly at him.

‘Indeed better to see you, my Lord, I trust you are well?’

‘Very well, even better now that I have ascertained myself of your well-being…’ he grinned.

Fingolfin smiled and placed a hand on his grandson’s shoulder.

‘I would invite you to dine with your grandmother and me tonight, were it not that this Lady will no doubt claim you first.’

He grinned knowingly, before continuing. ‘Perhaps she will be kind enough to see to Elernil, while we discuss the reason for your summoning?’

‘Indeed I would,’ she replied with a smile, offering her hand. ‘We shall wait for Ereinion elsewhere, Elernil, are you hungry?’

‘He is always hungry,’ Ereinion smiled broadly, receiving a grimace from Elernil.

The two High Princes entered the study and Fingolfin closed the door.

‘So, how does the House of Elrond react to the recent addition to their ranks?’ the elder asked.

Ereinion smiled.

‘It is as if the entire house rotates around that girl, day and night.’

‘This is much as it should be,’ the Elf-lord smiled, remembering the situation he had been in, long ago. ‘Daughters often take that place in the household. But pray tell, how fares our kin in Imloth?’

‘They all fare well.’

Fingolfin looked at him intently.

‘And how do you fare?’

‘I fare well also.’ Ereinion nodded with a broad grin.

‘And the construction of the new... What was it, a wing?’ Fingolfin continued, as they calmly walked through the chamber.

‘Not yet connected, but yes, a wing it shall be,’ Ereinion replied. ‘The work progresses steadily, even without Elrond’s help. He is too enamoured by his wife and new child, at present.’

With a chuckle, Fingolfin offered some refreshments, which Ereinion gladly accepted.

‘From what I heard, it is little wonder. My brother was very enthusiastic about the news. Finarfin holds all his grandchildren and great-grandchildren and so on in high regard, but one who carries that much show of the heritage of his House is held in even higher esteem.’

‘I know Celeborn was much pleased with it as well,’ Ereinion smiled. ‘Not to mention Elrond.’

Fingolfin smiled as they were seated, and Ereinion twirled the substance in his glass.

‘Not that I do not enjoy these pleasantries, Daeradar, but...’

With a nod, the other set down his glass.

‘You are right, I find myself evading the reason I asked you to come.’ He folded his hands and sat back. ‘While discussing your place in Tirion as a High Prince in the Council, we received quite a positive reply to our proposal of your joining it.’

Ereinion pursed his lips and raised and eyebrow.

‘You must be very busy if this is what is discussed in the Council nowadays.’

Ignoring the remark, Fingolfin went on.

‘If you were to accept the offer they will no doubt make in due time, you would be given a place in the High Council, would have allowance to start your own. Gather people around you to advise you.’

Rising, Ereinion placed his hand on the back of his chair.

‘What says my father of this?’

His grandfather looked up at him.

‘He agrees that you should take up this responsibility. But our opinions differ on when exactly you should start.’

‘Meaning?’ A slight irritation could be distinguished in the younger Elf’s voice now.

‘I am very tempted to ask you to take it up now, where he says it might be better to wait a while yet. Perhaps he has a point, after all, your physical years would officially not allow it.’

‘If I had been any other, I would not have been asked?’

Fingolfin laughed.

‘At your age? No, of course not. Therefore it is a great honour.’

‘Because I fall under ‘different guidelines’ there would be made an exception?’

‘There would indeed.’

Ereinion was silent. The other High Prince studied his face.

‘But you carry years of experience with you, years of...’

‘Pain,’ he said quietly, ‘Pain, Daeradar. And I have no wish to return to politics just yet.’

Nodding, Fingolfin bowed his head for a moment.

He had somewhat expected Ereinion to jump on this unexpected honour. But Fingon had seen this coming.

Curious, that even after so many years, it was still the father that understood the son better than the grandfather. And that was despite the many nightly conversations the grandfather had had with the grandson about love, death and, above all, life.

‘There is something else we need to discuss, Ereinion.’

He watched his grandson’s grey eyes meet his again.

‘Which is?’

‘We have spoken of this before.’

‘Ah,’ Ereinion said, his eyes turning stormy, placing his hands behind his back. ‘Names.’

‘We would prefer you to carry a name other than Ereinion, for there shall be time when you return into the public eye, in then you can no longer...’

‘I have always preferred Ereinion.’

‘Would you not take up Gil-galad again?’

‘Is it presumptuous if I do not?’

‘Rather the opposite, I think.’ Fingolfin sighed. He watched Ereinion walk over to the window. With every passing word his grandson seemed to become more inflexible. ‘You knew this day would come, you have known it for a long time. You cannot simply give in to this indisposition to take up your old life.’

‘You really do not understand, do you?’ Ereinion replied, staring outside, a certain sadness over him. ‘I never truly wished it, never wanted it, not then, and not now. I took the High King-ship because it was said to be my birth-right, because I was one of the few left to rightfully claim it. I was eighty years of age, I knew nothing of what it was to rule a people, I had grown up with...’ He silenced himself, and bowed his head. ‘Forgive me.’

Fingolfin gave a short shake of the head.

‘There is nothing that needs forgiving. I beg your forgiveness for trying to influence you.’

With a shrug Ereinion looked up.

‘I shall do as you ask, but not now. I will assume any station in the City you see fit for me to take when I reach my second century, but not before that. I implore you, give me the time until then.’

‘You have it,’ the elder Elf smiled, rising and nearing. He placed an arm around his grandson. ‘As much time as you need.’

—~~*~~—

Elernil was conversing with one of the stable hands, and Ereinion moved beside the Lady, watching on. She placed her arm through his and looked up.

‘What is the matter?’

‘I would only anger myself speaking of it,’ he said softly.

‘Well,’ she smiled. ‘Speak of it nevertheless.’

‘Not in front of the boy,’ he growled.

‘Still that temper as ever, Ereinion?’

‘It shall be the end of me,’ he said, a smile penetrating his stern facial expression nevertheless. ‘My grandfather is a patient man, but I know he does not like it when it gets the better of me.’

‘What did you speak of?’

‘Apparently they wish me to join the High Council.’

Resting her other hand on his elbow she smiled mischievously.

‘Would it not be great honour?’

Narrowing his eyes at her, he shook his head.

‘Please do not start this. Not you.’

Reaching for his hand she brought it to her lips.

‘I will not, you know I jest.’

‘Yes…’ he smiled, before his face darkened once more. ‘And the name-issue again.’

‘Does he not have a point?’

‘I thought you did not like Fingolfin.’

‘But not because he is not wise... I have different reasons, haryon-nîn.’

‘Why can I not remain Ereinion?’

‘Then remain Ereinion, if it pleases you. Perhaps he merely acts so because Nolofinwë never became fashionable.’

He looked at her breathlessly before they both chuckled.

‘He would not forgive you if he had heard that.’

She only smiled.

‘Will you and Elernil stay the night in Tirion?’

‘Have I an invitation for dinner?’

‘You know you have.’

Ereinion grinned.

‘Then we shall stay.’

—~~*~~—

Waking at the same time of night as she usually did, the time when Celebriníel usually woke, Celebrían listened to muffled crying sounds coming from the next room.

For a moment, she considered it strange, for the small crib her daughter slept in stood in this room, so she would hear everything, or, when sleep would not take her, could watch the child as it slumbered peacefully.

Beside her, Elrond was gone, the side already cold, even though the sheets had been lain back after he had apparently left. Quietly she slipped out of bed as well.

In the next chamber, Elrond was walking up and down with Celebriníel pressed against his chest, the small girl bitterly crying, her head against his shoulder, very tired indeed. She was suckling the cloth bunny, which Celebrían knew had been immersed in icy river water with some herbs, in an attempt to soothe the pain of teething. The item would no doubt soon need to be replaced. Or washed at least.

‘How long has she been awake?’ she asked, stopping Elrond and kissing his shoulder blade, before closing her eyes and she resting her cheek against his back.

‘A while... Did we wake you?’

‘Not really,’ she smiled. Celebriníel started to sob again.

‘Oh, my little one,’ Celebrían shushed, placing her hand on the little girl’s head. Small fingers clasped to her wrist and wet blue eyes looked at her miserably.

‘Shall I take her to bed with us?’ Elrond asked. Celebrían nodded.

Placing a pillow upright, he sat down against it and rested his daughter against his chest. She uttered some tired throaty sobs, but then he softly started talking to her.

‘Hush, my sweet... And I shall tell you what lies in the future...’ Celebrían smiled and settled against him, knowing she would be fast asleep if she allowed herself to be swayed by her husband’s voice. Elrond lightly stroked the child’s back and continued.

‘In not fifty years time perhaps, you will be as beautiful as your mother, and I shall worry about you constantly, because you shall be going about your life, and forget about your old father...’ he smiled, as she shifted her head, making almost no sound. ‘... And you shall be one of the fairest singers on Aman, because we will have taught you... As I was taught by Maglor, and as your mother learned it from her kin...’

Celebriníel lifted her head for a moment, looking up. Then she rested it against him again, looking at her mother, only blinking her eyes once before closing them. Celebrían smiled and closed her eyes as well.

‘Yes, you will,’ Elrond whispered softly, kissing her head. ‘And you shall loose your heart to a good Elf and be happy until the end of Arda.’

He grinned.

‘Or I shall throttle him with my bare hands.’

‘Oh, be quiet El-nîn.’ Celebrían mumbled.

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Celewilin: silver bird

Celerodwen: silver virgin

Celaith: silver spear point

Celebrohiril: silver horse lady

Celebwen: silver maiden

Celebrin: silver, silvery lady

Celebrilin: silver nightingale

meluihên: lovely-child

Essecarmë: ‘Name-making’, the ceremony in which the father-name of a child is announced.

Celebriníel: silver-like star/daughter

Imloth: flowering valley (apparently, Elrond’s House is situated in a part of the countryside that is very hilly. So not as much a deep valley as Imladris was, but a valley nonetheless.)

haryon-nîn: my prince

Nolofinwë: Fingolfin’s fathername, (The Shibboleth of Fëanor), Michael Martinez also discusses it here: http://www.suite101.com/article.cfm/tolkien/78484

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