High Princes of Tirion
by Nemis

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Chapter Eight     Nuptials

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Breathing heavily he was awake, and felt Celebrían’s hands on his chest.

The room was dark, and for a single moment he panicked, only to be soothed by her familiar voice close by.

‘You are awake, be still, El-nîn.’

The next instant, she spoke again, her voice rather worried. ‘I could feel the dream, but could not help.’

He nodded, sitting up, resting his head in his hands for a moment.

‘That was very unpleasant,’ he said softly, before fleeing into her arms.

‘Perhaps you want to get some fresh air?’ Celebrían suggested, holding him close.

‘Yes,’ he whispered, still fazed by the vivid imagery. ‘I think I would.’

Stumbling out of the bed, finding some robes to put over his sleeping attire, he decided against the bath chamber, and made his way into the hallway, entering the library before long.

It was in less of a twilight state than the bedroom, the moon shining in from the large windows and through the open balcony door.

Instead of entering his study, he decided to step onto the balcony. No doubt the fresh night air would do him good.

But before he could step out, he was grabbed and pulled back by the arm, confronted with Ereinion pressing a finger against his lips.

‘Do not go there.’

‘Why on Aman not? And do you never sleep?’ Elrond replied, nevertheless lowering his voice.

‘Glorfindel is on the balcony,’ Ereinion sniggered, pulling his friend away. ‘I would not want anything to disturb him. And as for sleep, I have very little need of it.’

‘Why is he on the balcony?’ Elrond asked, allowing himself to be pulled away.

Ereinion grinned broadly.

‘He is with Anariel.’

Elrond raised an eyebrow.

‘Why is he... Oh.’

The High Prince nodded smugly.

‘Indeed. They seem to have taken a liking to each other.’

‘No,’ Elrond smiled, ‘Most likely he is merely being courteous.’

Returning the smile knowingly, Ereinion began walking into the direction of Elrond’s private study.

‘Of course. He is being courteous in the middle of the night. And I am a Balrog. Why are you up anyway? I’d prefer my wife’s arms, had I a wife, to a lonely study.’

Not answering to the jest, Elrond sat down.

‘Nightmare.’

It was Ereinion’s turn to frown.

‘Why would you have nightmares?’

‘If I knew, I would probably not be here,’ Elrond snapped back, only to put his hand to his forehead.

For a moment Ereinion contemplated to go on in jest, but decided otherwise. Perhaps because Elrond’s face reminded him of that of a small boy and his brother he had once known, a life-time ago.

‘What was it about?’ he asked, half-sitting, half-leaning against the desk.

Sighing, Elrond looked up.

‘About death. Dagorlad, Cerin Amroth. You, and Arwen.’

‘Me and Arwen?’ the High Prince returned, trying very hard to keep any tone of amusement out of his voice.

Elrond smiled weakly.

‘First your death, then Arwen’s.’

Ereinion was silent for a while. It took him quite some concentration to keep the images from his own nightmares to jump out from the shadows.

‘I know the horror of dreaming of Dagorlad... I can only imagine those that accompany the death of a daughter,’ he finally spoke, understanding in his eyes.

Still attempting to be rid of the images, Elrond tried to smile.

‘Let us speak of something else.’

‘Twould be better if you spoke to someone of these nightmares.’

‘Perhaps, but not now,’ Elrond replied, sinking back in the chair. The High Prince nodded and lifted himself nimbly onto the desk. Both were silent for a moment, but then Ereinion chuckled softly.

‘I was made aware of you teaching your grandson tricks.’

‘Well, yes,’ Elrond grinned. ‘He has a nearly seven-thousand-year-old mind across the table from him. I thought I would even the odds a little.’

Pursing his lips, the other nodded.

‘He lacks your flair of telling an opponent the game has been played.’

‘No doubt in time, he shall develop his own. I would not want him to mimic my way of playing. For a time, I lost all pleasure in the game merely because all I could think of was winning.’ Elrond looked at Ereinion. ‘I seem to recall you were the one who preferred strategies.’

‘Strategies are often useless in a game,’ the High Prince said. ‘In battle your opponent is fallible. My opponents in chess tend to be near-perfect.’ He smiled to himself. ‘I suppose it is not wise to treat one as the other. A player seldom gets the desired or expected effect.’

Sitting forward, Elrond smiled.

‘Elernil was very proud of himself.’

‘I can imagine,’ Ereinion returned. ‘He swept me off the board.’

‘You always fell for such things. Too forthright while playing.’

‘Are you calling me predictable?’

Chuckling, Elrond rose.

‘I would not dare, my Lord.’ He looked at Ereinion. ‘I think I shall try and rest some more.’

With a glance towards the balcony, Ereinion looked back at Elrond.

‘Perhaps I should do the same.’

Catching Ereinion’s arm, it was Elrond who now pulled the other Elf along.

‘I think that is a very good idea.’

They parted at the entrance of the library, and both silently began the way back to their individual chambers.

—~~*~~—

Glorfindel smiled as he listened to her voice, the slight intonations that he had taken for granted before, now almost as music to his ears.

They had had a pleasant evening, and not for a moment had he even contemplated returning her to Ereinion, as he had planned before, when he had still been somewhat displeased by actions taken.

Perhaps the High Prince did not appreciate her presence much, but something in Glorfindel did.

And as the evening progressed, they had gone to dinner with all the other guests, and afterwards found a peaceful place on the library balcony.

It had become night, and still they were here, as if there was not a single subject allowed to remain un-discussed. And yet, there was no fear in his heart that the subjects would run out.

It reminded him of Middle-earth, where the feasts of Imladris had always gone on well into the night, often still going strong in the mornings.

I have jested of this, Glorfindel thought, as he listened to Anariel speaking of some Lays she had heard during a festival in Tirion not long ago. But what is there truly to jest about? Would I mind terribly spending the rest of my physical existence here on this balcony? And the remainder of my spiritual life in her presence?

Then he laughed inwardly.

He was content here, now. A near eternity lay before him. He was not in a hurry.

Looking back at her he found her inquisitive grey eyes resting on his face.

‘What amuses you, my Lord?’

Smiling, Glorfindel offered his arm.

‘Only that we have forgotten the time, my Lady. I shall escort you to your chambers.’

A knowing smile on her face, she accepted, and together they left the library.

‘I merely wish to say I much enjoyed your company, Lord Glorfindel,’ she said.

Nodding, he returned her delighted expression.

‘It was the same for me, my Lady.’ He paused for a moment. ‘I hope you will grant me the honour of accompanying you to the ceremony tomorrow.’

‘It would be my honour,’ she replied.

Looking at his feet for a moment Glorfindel chuckled, then gazed upon her again.

‘Very well.’

—~~*~~—

A soft singing drifted through the air, and Elrond allowed his eyes to find what his ears had already.

As he had thought to recognise, it was Aurehen who walked in the garden below, singing, Elladan by her side, both of them seemingly unaware to what went on around them.

Upon arriving on the higher terrace outside the rooms he shared with Celebrían, he found his wife waiting, evidently also having decided she was not ready to go back to sleep yet.

Do you remember how that felt?

Celebrían’s voice was in his mind, and he smiled, walking over to her and placing his arms around her.

Then, they watched their son, together with the one he loved.

‘I do,’ he whispered, resting his head on her shoulder.

The year before their marriage had largely been spent in Lothlórien, catching up on the time they had missed during the Second Age.

That period in their lives together had flown by so quickly. As if it had been spent in the comfortable surroundings of a dream.

His arms lightly around her waist, he pulled her closer, before he moved her hair away, and kissed her neck.

It was too easy to discern a normal kiss from a lover’s one, in Elrond’s case.

Celebrían tilted her head back against his shoulder, and allowed his fingers to trail their way up to her neck, where they stroked her neckline, not absently, though his mind was most definitely somewhere else.

‘Did you know my parents arrived?’ she asked, her eyes now closed.

‘Did they?’ he asked inquisitively. ‘I was not aware.’

‘Little wonder,’ she whispered with a smile. ‘I was only just informed of it myself.’

Hand in hand they returned inside, leaving everyone still awake to the light of Isil.
 

—~~*~~—

Ereinion had heard the sound of singing too, there seemed to be many voices in the air tonight.

Not as many as there would be tomorrow, he knew. Tomorrow night would have lost the air of anticipation that unmistakably lingered now.

Tomorrow, wine would flow richly, and the most delicious dishes would be for the tasting for as long as one wanted to eat. Soon to be lovers would meet, and old lovers would sing of new devotion, and relive it all.

He pondered it all, his heart nevertheless light, as he found the door to his rooms slightly ajar.

With a chuckle he entered soundlessly.

If this had still been Middle-earth, if he had still been the person he had been then, he would have had no doubt as to the reason. Enough ladies had found their way into his rooms then, intentional or not.

But here, he knew it was an entirely different reason.

He had not been in his rooms all evening, spending it talking and discussing, trying to act as his grandfather wished him to. His only real amusement had been observing Glorfindel from the corners of his eyes, and seeing he and Anariel got on quite well.

And now, curled up near the foot of the bed, Elernil, dressed in his night clothes, was lying fast asleep.

Very silently, leaving the door open as it was, Ereinion nudged the boy, who turned and moaned softly.

‘What is amiss with your own bed and requires you to take mine instead?’ he said, having a hard time keeping his face serious.

Elernil was up and awake the next moment.

‘I didn’t mean to fall asleep,’ he stuttered, ‘I merely wished to wait for you to return.’

‘It is well into the night. Do you have any notion as to what would happen if your mother is not able to locate you? Hmm?’

‘In the end, she would find me though.’ The boy grinned, and Ereinion could not help but return it.

‘Fresh, you are.’

A radiant smile appeared on Elernil’s face.

‘Can I stay?’

For a moment the High Prince seemed undecided.

‘I suppose… Were it not for this dreadful hour, I would tell you to go and inform your mother. But I doubt she would appreciate it. I will be back presently.’

Disappearing in an adjoining chamber, Ereinion changed into the more comfortable garments in which he usually slept, and returned to where Elernil now sat.

In his absence, Elernil had evidently hopped off the bed to collect a book from one of the shelves.

He was now, wide awake, perusing it, searching for the large colour depictions of important events in Middle-earth history.

‘What is this?’ he asked, handing Ereinion the book. ‘It says Gil-galad, but it looks like you.’

Not able to find words, he stared at the drawing.

Had it been like that? He could not remember clearly. He did not want to remember clearly.

‘Ereinion?’ he heard Elernil’s voice. ‘Are you all right?’

Silently he nodded.

‘I am quite...’

There had been drawings in his grandfather’s libraries. Somehow they had made their way to Aman, or had been drawn here by those who had witnessed it. For a long time, they had been kept away from him.

When he had first stumbled upon one… No. Stumbled upon was the wrong choice of words. He had observed others long enough to know something was in certain books. A something that was repeatedly being kept from him. And when he had finally found it, he had not understood.

But it had initiated the nightmares.

Where the pictures had always shown the situation from an observer’s point of view, his nightmares were always as if he were reliving them. Perhaps that was why he had grasped Elrond’s situation so well tonight.

Many years he had not identified with the visions, had not comprehended.

And then he had remembered.

Elernil watched the High Prince shiver involuntarily.

With persistent fingers he wrenched the book from Ereinion’s grip. It did not seem to make a difference.

‘I am sorry,’ he whispered. Then he silently slipped off the bed and left the room.

Making his way through the corridors, he entered the only room in the house besides Ereinion’s that he dared enter without knocking.

As soon as he entered, a light was dimmed.

‘Oh, it is you,’ came Celebriníel’s voice, and the light was turned up again.

‘You have to come with me.’

‘Why?’ she asked, looking at him, not understanding.

‘It is Ereinion.’

Elvishly quick and silent, the two children made their way through the passageways again, and entered the High Prince’s chambers.

He was no longer on the bed, and Elernil was surprised to find him on the balcony, the book of before in his hands, though with a different picture there.

‘You should both be asleep,’ he mumbled.

‘But we thought you were...’

‘Both of you, off to bed.’

‘But Ereinion...’

‘Get going.’

Elernil looked at Celebriníel.

‘I shall stay here, you must go back to your rooms.’

With a shrug Celebriníel stepped onto the balcony and placed a hand on the High Prince’s knee.

‘Night-night, Ereinion.’

‘Goodnight, Celebriníel.’

Sitting down just around the corner, Elernil waved at Celebriníel as she left the room. He knew Ereinion was aware of him. He might be out of sight, but was certainly not out of hearing range. And yet, his presence seemed to be accepted. In any case, he could not go. Partially, this was all his fault.

Ereinion listened to the boy, moving slightly every once in a while.

You are scaring him.

‘Elernil,’ he called. ‘Go to sleep.’

‘Only if you do too,’ came the reply.

With a sigh, he pushed himself up from the bench and left the balcony, gently catching the boy by the tunic and pulling him up.

‘Off you go.’

Elrohir’s son looked at him.

‘You go to sleep first.’

‘As soon as you reach maturity you can attempt to send me to bed, but for now,’ he led the boy towards the door. ‘You shall do as I say.’

Closing the door behind Elernil, he brought his hand to his head and sighed.

‘Still, he has a point, Ereinion...’

He dropped himself onto the bed and pulled the blankets around him. As he lay his head against his arm, he heard the door open again, but did not react on it.

Only when he felt someone settle on the bed did he open his eyes to mumble a comment.

‘Why would you pay attention to anything I say?’

Curling up beside him, Elernil looked at him seriously.

‘I never meant to upset you.’

Smiling, Ereinion closed his eyes again.

‘I know, it is all right.’

‘Can I stay?’ the boy asked hopefully.

‘Close your eyes and be quiet, Elernil.’

Nodding, the boy lay his head on a pillow.

‘Night, Ereinion.’

‘Goodnight, Elernil.’

For some time, the boy watched the High Prince, until he had ascertained his friend truly had gone asleep. Then he too succumbed to walking the paths of dreams.
 

—~~*~~—

Elernil was woken because Ereinion tossed a pillow at him.

‘Rise, little keeper, for you have to dress and be ready soon.’

He watched the High Prince, already dressed in a splendid blue and silver, his hair loosely braided, ready to go.

Yawning, Elernil rolled off the bed and smiled.

‘Someone needed to keep an eye on you, so I didn’t go to sleep at once.’

Laughing, Ereinion neared Elernil and threw him over his shoulder, the boy meanwhile chuckling relentlessly.

Moving swiftly through the corridors, the High Prince knocked on the door and presented Elernil to his mother.

‘One elfling, ready to wash and be clothed for his uncle’s wedding,’ he smiled. Mîrlinde took over the giggling boy.

As he walked down the corridor, Elernil called to him, momentarily able to escape his mother’s watchful eye.

‘Can I sit with you during the ceremony?’

Turning, Ereinion grinned broadly.

‘We shall see.’

He met up with his father at the next cross-section.

‘The house of Elrond is blessed with many important guests,’ Fingon commented, as they continued their way together.

‘High Princes abound, I believe.’

‘Indeed, but we also have Finrod and Amarië. And Finrod came with his father.’

Ereinion raised an amused eyebrow.

‘The High King personally! Most representatives of the remaining houses are here then, so to speak?’

‘The House of Elrond is greatly honoured, without a doubt,’ Fingon smiled.

‘As it should be,’ Ereinion grinned.

—~~*~~—

Aurehen listened to the gentle music and soft singing as she felt Elladan, who stood beside her, held her hand for a moment, squeezing softly. A soft breeze chased over the grounds, leaves rustling about them, the smell of flowers apparent in just the right way.

They found themselves underneath a small roof of leaves and ivy wrought together.

People were still talking, but neither of them was very aware of it, turning to each other.

Suddenly brought back to the present, Elladan looked up at his father, confronted with laughing eyes.

With a slow, graceful movement, he removed the silver ring from his index finger and was handed a silver chain. Placing the band upon the necklace, he fastened it around Aurehen’s neck, chuckling somewhat as her hair got in his way.

A moment later, he bent his own head to receive her ring around his neck.

Looking at her, dressed in white and grey, as he was himself, Elladan noticed the blush on her cheeks.

Catching her hand once more, he bent forward to whisper something in her ear, making her smile.

Celebrían took a hold of Elrond’s hand and felt him return pressure gently.

Aurehen’s mother, Aryanrë, a striking Vanyarin lady, stepped forward and joined the couple’s right hands.

‘Elbereth Gilthoniel, alae i erthad uin Elladan a Aurehen ned Imloth.’

Releasing Celebrían’s hand, Elrond too, stepped forward. His voice soft, but somehow as audible as ever, he spoke the words the father of the groom was expected to speak for the first time in his life.

‘Manwë Súlimo, alae i erthad uin Elladan iôn ned Elrond a Aurehen iell ned Dîrhûn.’

Solemn-faced, Elrohir stepped forward, opening the ornate wooden box, in which lay two golden rings.

Elladan collected one of the bands and caught Aurehen’s hand.

‘Ilúvatar, galu am i erthad...’ he spoke, slipping the ring onto her index-finger.

Aurehen looked at him for a long while, and Celebrían knew she was softly speaking to him. Then the Elf-lady retrieved the second ring, and held the hand Elladan already offered.

‘Eru, aen manadhpant...’

Their fingers entwined the instant the band was placed on Elladan’s finger.

‘...a uireb.’ Elrond’s eldest son whispered, before bending down and slowly pressing his lips against his lady’s. Her hand rested on his side and as they ended the kiss, she smiled up at him.

A loud cheer went up among the crowd and Elladan and Aurehen, both beaming, began to accept the many congratulations.

After making the rounds, Ereinion finally congratulated Elrond, as they together stood aside a little. Celebrían was taking care of most guests, receiving congratulations and speaking with many.

‘You have many prominent guests,’ Ereinion commented.

Elrond nodded slowly.

‘We, without a doubt, have. Finarfin honours us much with his presence.’

‘You forget you and Celebrían have united the Houses of Fingolfin and Finarfin.’

With a gentle pat on Ereinion’s shoulder, Elrond grinned.

‘I did not forget, my friend.’

A moment later, Celebriníel and Elernil came running. Dancing around him, Elrond’s daughter made the High Prince lift her.

‘Did Aurehen not look pretty?’ she asked.

He agreed with a firm nod.

‘She did. And you do too,’ he added, pointing at her white dress and the gems in her hair. Celebriníel beamed.

‘I want to get married too... Can I Ada?’

Patting Elernil’s shoulder absently, Elrond smiled at his daughter.

‘When you grow up, of course.’

‘Who would you marry?’ Elernil asked. ‘I do not wish to get married I think.’

Celebriníel grimaced.

‘You do not wish to be married because Ereinion is not.’

‘Not true,’ Elernil snapped. Winking, Ereinion indicated their alliance.

On his arm, Celebriníel seemed to ponder her options.

‘Well, since everyone else is married, or too old, I shall have to marry Ereinion.’

Blinking, the High Prince looked at her.

‘Marry Glorfindel. Erestor.’

She shook her head.

‘He is with that lady now,’ she pointed at Glorfindel and Anariel, who seemed to be enjoying each other’s presence tremendously. ‘And Erestor is too old.’

Trying to ignore Elrond’s amused laughter, though smiling along, Ereinion lowered Celebriníel.

He then offered a hand to Elernil.

‘Come, we shall do bachelor-fitting things now.’

‘Horses?’ Elernil asked, his face lighting up.

‘Horses it is.’

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lay: short poem meant to be sung; song

Aryanrë (Aryante means Daybringer, and -rë is the feminine ending of the 3rd person singular in Quenya)

Dîrhûn: (Sindarin) Elf of the East dîr = archaic referring to a grown male (Elf, man whatever), rhûn = east

Apparently Dîrhûn of the Noldor was one of the Elves that returned to Aman after the Last Alliance (so somewhere during the Third Age) and there he was wedded to Aryanrë of the Vanyar

Mistakes in the Elvish are mine, of course.

Elbereth Gilthoniel, alae i erthad uin Elladan a Aurehen ned Imloth: Elbereth Gilthoniel, behold the union of Elladan and Aurehen of Imloth.

Manwë Súlimo, alae i erthad uin Elladan iôn ned Elrond a Aurehen iell ned Dîrhûn: Manwë Súlimo, behold the union of Elladan son of Elrond and Aurehen daughter of Dîrhûn.

Ilúvatar, galu am i erthad: Ilúvatar, blessings upon the union

Eru, aen manadhpant: Eru, may it be blissful

...a uireb: ...and eternal.

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