High Princes of Tirion
by Nemis

*~^*~*~^*~*~^*~*~^*~*~^*~*~^*~*~^*~*~^*~*~^

Chapter Eleven     Old Acquaintances

*~^*~*~^*~*~^*~*~^*~*~^*~*~^*~*~^*~*~^*~*~^

The Elf-lord handed his horse to a stable-hand, but did not subsequently do what was expected; enter the house to announce his arrival.

Instead, he entered the gardens, taking off his gloves and loosening his cloak, before finding a peaceful place on a bench, watching an elegant waterfall do what it was intended to.

He nevertheless did not have to sit alone long.

‘It is not often I find such an important guest unannounced in the gardens, my Lord,’ came a voice from behind, ‘Yet this does not mean I do not appreciate it.’

Glorfindel rose with a swift smile and reached for Anariel’s hand.

‘I could start my apology by uttering some nonsensical words on how I enjoy being in your gardens, my Lady, but I fear they would not do me much good. Rather I would sound like some foolish elfling, falling over his own words, aided by a romantically inclined tongue.’

She laughed and nodded, gripping his hand a little.

‘Perhaps.’

There were voices that seemed to reach them from the open doors of the house, and Glorfindel looked enquiringly at Anariel.

‘You have guests?’

Rolling her eyes, Anariel nodded.

‘Aye, my father does, some Lord he met in Fingolfin’s Halls. Perchance you know him as well, he is called Malthon.’

Nodding thoughtfully, the golden-haired Elf-lord offered his arm.

‘Indeed, if I recall correctly, the Lord Malthon was one of the members of a rather disastrous adventure, involving my Lords Gil-galad and Elrond in Middle-earth.’

Anariel smiled.

‘I have not heard that particular tale, but I have come to understand Malthon and Gil-galad were quite close in their younger years. Though this does not seem to be the case any longer where it concerns Ereinion and Malthon here on Aman.’

She gazed up at him inquiringly.

‘This could be explained in many ways,’ Glorfindel spoke, standing still for a moment, looking at her. ‘For one, Ereinion, as much as he does resemble his former self, is not quite the same as he was. A very simple and silly example, he used to love sugared fruits in Middle-earth, whereas now, he seems to loathe them. Though he tries to tell everyone who wishes to listen, he only pretended to like them in Middle-earth, there can be little doubt his likes and dislikes have changed.’

Nodding, Anariel indicated they should continue walking, while meanwhile carrying on with the conversation.

‘And yet, he is still as close to Elrond as he was before, or am I mistaken?’

‘Mistaken only in the notion that they appear to be even closer now, then they were,’ Glorfindel replied with a grin. ‘But if I recall accurately, and I must remind you I cannot be entirely certain of it, Malthon and Gil-galad did not part on the best of terms.’

‘How do you mean?’

He seemed to consider formulating his answer for a moment.

‘It is no coincidence the endeavour I just mentioned is rarely spoken of. The High King was never proud of it, too many lives were lost during it. And I do not believe there was a single member coming out of that forest unscathed.’

‘Ereinion was hurt?’

Glorfindel nodded, somehow more clearly confronted with the memory then he ever had been since it occurred.

‘An arrow knocked him clear out of the saddle, so I was told.’

‘And Malthon?’

‘Also an arrow, I believe.’

‘And where were you, during all this?’

‘Searching,’ Glorfindel smirked. ‘And we did find them.’

Anariel smiled along.

‘So it was because of the arrow that they were unfriends?’

He frowned as he looked at her.

‘Not exactly...’ he said, looking away. ‘I will venture to say that, long ago, there was a great love between the Lady Alian and Ereinion Gil-galad when he still resided on Balar during the First Age. I know very little of it further, but it suffices to say it caused some harsh words to be said between the three of them, later on, when it became known Malthon and Alian had married at the end of the First Age. But I did not witness any myself, so again, I cannot be certain. I doubt even Elrond knows the depth of it, though he witnessed them speaking many times.’

Looking at him intently, Anariel lay her hand on his arm for a moment, halting him.

‘This would explain some things, you know.’

‘It would?’

She nodded seriously, and went on in a whisper.

‘I only know this because my father was there when the news of Gil-galad’s demise came to the Blessed Realm.’

Glorfindel looked at her attentively.

‘What occurred?’

‘It seems that then, as much as they are now, both the Lord Malthon as well as Lady Alian were close to the House of Fingolfin. And they were present when the news arrived. Upon hearing of Gil-galad’s passing to Mandos, the Lady turned quite still. Now, my father said there were many that did, which was the reason it was not noticed. Then she left, and when my father first saw her again, she had cut off her hair, and remained dressed in dark and near-silence for many years.’

Somewhat taken aback, Glorfindel looked at her.

‘This is not common knowledge, I deem?’

‘Because it supports the rumour Alian still loves Ereinion, Fingolfin seems to prefer to keep it quiet. But the fact that I can tell you this, means that in certain circles, people are well aware of it. Then again, all of Aman was in mourning the day that news arrived. I doubt many were observant enough to notice it, before they went on with their lives.’

‘Would you know whether they have spoken, Alian and Ereinion?’

Anariel shook her head.

‘When he was still often in Tirion, before Elrond returned, I never was under the impression Ereinion talked to any lady much. I suppose they attended gatherings where they could have met.’

‘Are they going to the ceremony?’

‘Yes,’ she nodded. ‘I believe they are. And you?’

‘I have indeed arrived here with Elrond and his household to witness Ereinion’s installation into the Council.’

Looking up at him, she caught his hand.

‘I hoped you would.’

—~~*~~—

Ereinion stood near the window, staring outside. After a moment he lifted his hand and tapped the glass. Then he rested his hand against it, cool against his palm.

For a year he had been in Tirion, had unofficially attended councils, both those of his father and grandfather as well as the occasional High Council.

But today was the definite end of it. Or rather the beginning.

If leaving Imloth and the House of Elrond had been the end of his youth, this day was the official beginning of his professional life.

If this was true, what had his past year been? Some sort of static year? What had it meant, besides being a year of learning?

He was uncertain.

And yet, already, the outside world seemed strange to him.

Was it because he was one of many now? At least one of the three?

He thought of Elernil, sitting in his office, talking.

Speaking of the journeys back and forth to Imloth, about time spent with Elrond, work he had done on the small waterway.

Hearing the young man mentioning it alone made Ereinion realise he missed it already.

And just moments ago, Elrond had been here, together with Celebrían and Celebriníel.

They were happy.

In a way, he knew he was not unhappy, here in Tirion.

But what they had...

Celebriníel was growing up, quite a little lady now.

Would there come a time when he himself would be able to observe a child of his own with the same proud look as Elrond had when watching his daughter?

A knock on the door was followed by Elrohir’s entrance

‘All is ready if you are.’

Ereinion nodded towards the window, then turned.

‘I am ready.’

—~~*~~—

The ceremony was held in Quenya, as all formal procedures held in the Council Halls were.

Elrond was once more confronted with the fact Ereinion resembled his former form almost too much for comfort, especially now, dressed in those dark blue and silver garments, his face almost expressionless.

Celebrían, standing beside him softly squeezed his hand and he smiled.

I am fine.

Of course you are.

Solemn words were spoken, and he watched Ereinion’s lips move, and though he could not precisely distinguish the words, Elrond was aware of them nevertheless.

As serious as Ereinion seemed now, the more jesting had he been before, when in private rooms surrounded by close friends. He had played with Celebriníel, joked with Elernil, and had generally seemed as if he were about to engage in something he did daily.

How had he called it before leaving Imloth? The official ceremony to notify one and all he would be in bonds until the end of Arda...

They had not had time to speak, not privately in any case.

And still, somehow Elrond suspected that now, more than ever, Ereinion was saying goodbye to his youth, to a time in which he could jest and be irresponsible.

As if in some way, he was only now truly coming of age.

—~~*~~—

As they stood together, Fingolfin, Fingon and Ereinion, the youngest High Prince almost could not help but laugh. No doubt they looked increasingly silly, all dressed the same, all alike, but not entirely, and none of them completely comfortable being here.

Although Fingolfin seemed at ease enough.

Perhaps he needed to feel light-hearted about this. A way to cope with this new situation.

He considered going over to Elrond, when suddenly his eyes rested on a face too familiar for comfort.

Expressionlessly, he nodded at the Elf-lord, who replied with a courteous but cold bow of the head.

Turning to his father he smiled weakly.

‘I shall take a moment of respite, please excuse me.’

Fingon nodded, though frowning a little as he watched his son stride off.

Ereinion walked unseeing, bringing his hand to his forehead as soon as he reached a corridor, where there was not an entire hall of people observing his every move.

Were you ever as uncomfortable with that before? he wondered absently.

He halted as a person blocked his way momentarily, looking up to smile and wait until the path was free once more.

A sharp jab of pain shot through his shoulder.

Then, for a moment, he found himself in a tent, and he heard someone who sounded scarily much like himself.

“I love thee, I have, and I shall... But I will not speak of it ever again...”

As soon as the final word was spoken he returned to the present again, having to work hard to keep his balance.

A hand rested on his arm and helped him, even if only slightly.

‘We meet again, my Lord.’

‘Indeed... I...’ He placed his feet further apart to keep himself steady. ‘Perhaps I need a moment...’

Guiding him through the door, the hand turned into an arm, and before he knew it, he was seated, and his head slowly began to spin less rapid.

‘Are you all right?’

The first image that did not blur was her face, grey eyes, a little worried, looking down upon him.

‘I...’ he started, before nodding. ‘It was only... It was a mere moment’s lapse... Nerves. I am fine.’

He was not fine, Alian decided. And most likely it was she who had made him feel thusly.

It had not been planned, this. She could have planned it better, if it had been so.

Determined not to let his proximity get to her, she walked around the table to collect him a glass of water, perhaps lingering too long with the pewter in her hand, and her back towards him.

Returning, he looked at her, just as he had when they had first met in Sirion. Long before marriage, long before all those words said in anger, long before death.

‘I wish to thank you again for the letter,’ he said, taking the glass with a short bow of the head.

For a moment, she did not understand, then remembered the dispatch she had sent with her congratulations and some polite inquiries into his well-being. It had seemed almost standard, and yet she had agonised over nearly every word. It had not been standard, of course. If it had been, her husband’s signature would have been on it. That had been clearly lacking.

There had been a formal reply, one not expediently inviting further correspondence. One side of her had been content with that, the other sorely disappointed.

‘It was nothing.’

‘Well, it was much appreciated,’ he replied. How many of those words indicated exactly how deep the appreciation went?

None, and that was precisely your point, he answered himself.

‘Still, you must have received many such correspondence, my Lord,’ she smiled.

He looked at his feet, folding his hands as a way to busy his hands.

‘Yes.’

Both of them were aware how rapidly this situation was becoming uncomfortable.

Alian suddenly nodded.

‘Methinks you were looking for some solitude, I shall no longer keep you from it.’

She had not expected him to rise after she had spoken the words. But that he did before looking at her.

‘I did much enjoy your company just now,’ he said slowly, his eyes sincere. ‘Perhaps there shall be a moment when we can both speak more.’

Not able to keep herself from smiling, she watched him for a moment. Different, but the same, he was.

And then she stepped closer, and very gently, pressed her lips against his.

Both of them noticed the voices too late, and there was no knock, no announcement of entrance.

As Elladan came in, he saw and stepped back again, and even before Ereinion could have ended the kiss, or cast back an explaining glance, the door was closed again.

For a moment, he was unable to move, but then swiftly withdrew.

He met Alian’s gaze, and she bowed her head courteously, indicating her imminent departure.

‘Do not play games that go too far, lady,’ he said softly, shortly catching her hand. Then he averted his gaze, and walked over to the window without another word, keeping his back towards her.

A moment later he heard the door open and close once more.

Uncertain how he felt, Ereinion sat down in the window seat, resting his head against the cool stone of the wall.

‘For once in this life, I would be much amused knowing what I truly feel,’ he whispered.

Was there to come a time when he could be certain of his feelings? Any feelings?

For even now, well into maturity, he could not yet be certain a page from a book would not distress him.

He breathed deeply.

And Elladan...

‘You have a way of making complicated matters just that little bit more complex.’ He sighed.

—~~*~~—

‘You did not find him?’ Elrond asked, looking at his son enquiringly. Elladan had been late arriving in Tirion, as had Celeborn. The weather had not been very good causing them to miss the ceremony and most of the subsequent reception.

His son had gone to relay his apologies for not attending and some additional congratulations. The expression on his face did not bode well.

‘I found him,’ his son replied blankly, now standing next to his father, scanning the room, his eyes not truly seeing.

‘And?’

Elladan shook his head.

‘I truly do not think I should speak of this.’

‘What do you mean?’

Catching his father’s arm Elladan pulled him aside.

‘He... I...’ He shook his head. ‘I do not know what to say.’

Elrond chuckled.

‘You sound as if you caught him at something.’

‘Perhaps I did,’ Elladan replied.

Looking at him intently, the elder Elf-lord raised an eyebrow.

‘Please explain.’

‘I found him during a rather intimate exchange with a lady.’

Smiling, Elrond turned.

‘Perhaps we should rather congratulate him then.’

‘I do not think the lady’s husband would much appreciate that.’

Meeting his son’s eyes, Elrond returned to seriousness at once.

‘Perhaps you were mistaken.’

‘I hope I was.’

‘You recognised the lady?’

Slowly Elladan nodded.

‘I have seen her at Fingolfin’s Halls several times.’

‘A name?’

‘I do not know her name. But I can point out her husband to you right now.’

A simple nod of the head was enough and Elrond quickly turned away again.

Before father and son were able to exchange anything else, Elrohir, Mîrlinde at his arm, neared.

‘I propose we go to my house now, and return here for the banquet tonight,’ he said, smiling comfortably.

Looking at Elrond, Elladan nodded.

‘I shall go find Aurehen.’

‘She was with Daeradar,’ Elrohir called after him, before looking at Elrond. ‘What ails my brother?’

‘Have you seen your mother?’ Elrond parried the question.

‘She is waiting for us with Celebriníel. Is something the matter?’

Elrond shook his head.

‘We shall speak of it later. What of Glorfindel?’

‘I told him to meet us outside. Elernil will stay here.’

‘Very well.’

*~^*~*~^*~*~^*~*~^*~*~^*~*~^*~*~^*~*~^*~*~^

Alian and Malthon are characters from my story “Ereinion”. Some information about what happened between them and Gil-galad can be found there.

*~^*~*~^*~*~^*~*~^*~*~^*~*~^*~*~^*~*~^*~*~^