High Princes of Tirion
by Nemis

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Chapter Seventeen     Reacquainting

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It was a lone rider that emerged from the stables, which surprised Glorfindel. For some reason he had expected an entourage of Elf-lords, or at least several riders. Light of step, the other Elf-lord reached the base of the stairway and smiled broadly, eyes glimmering.

‘Well, imagine meeting you here.’

‘I did not think you would come,’ Glorfindel replied as he shortly embraced the High Prince.

Stepping back, Ereinion looked at him seriously for a brief moment, meanwhile pulling off his gloves.

‘Tirion has not been the same since you left it, mellon. I missed you.’

Glorfindel frowned playfully.

‘Am I supposed to believe that?’

With a chuckle, Ereinion pressed his index finger against his lips.

‘Believe what you wish. Meanwhile, I have gone missing of course, leaving the arena in the capable hands of my councillors, to go and have some non-political fun.’

‘Are we to expect search parties looking for you soon?’ Glorfindel asked, his eyes now beginning to twinkle as well.

Nodding thoughtfully, Ereinion pursed his lips.

‘You might. But please, do not inform them of my presence. Say I went... fishing.’

Both greatly amused, the Elves turned towards the house. Ereinion loosened his regal travel clothing, throwing his cloak over his shoulder in an attempt to free himself of the restricting leather tunic he wore underneath. Grinning, Glorfindel watched his friend struggle with fastenings, not even offering help, his hands firmly behind his back.

‘And how are politics in Tirion?’

‘Very interesting,’ Ereinion said, seeming a little preoccupied with fastenings. ‘And quite content without me, I would dare say.’

Laughing, Glorfindel ascended the steps.

‘We get the news here, and you are indeed very active... What was it most recently? Something about the number of apprentices a craftsman is allowed to keep?’

Ereinion nodded solemnly, ceasing the skirmish with his clothing for a moment.

‘You are close in explaining it thusly, but it is not that simple... I mean, there shall be stricter rules to advance in position, and the more apprentices on higher levels the more lower apprentices one is allowed to have. The problem remains that advanced apprentices, when they turn craftsmen themselves, often quickly leave to start their own shops, and that young apprentices denote advantages for the craftsman, but if they do not have enough guidance in a workshop...’

‘Stay,’ Glorfindel said, patting Ereinion’s shoulder. ‘You are enjoying these things too much.’

Ereinion smiled, a slight trace of compunction in his manner.

‘Perhaps that is true. My grandfather certainly finds it very entertaining. Especially since he had to drag me over there in the first place.’

Content to leave the subject where it was, Glorfindel raised a hand.

‘Let us speak of the festivities then... There shall be some equestrian gaming, which I think you should enjoy.’

Finally releasing himself of the confining item of clothing, the other nodded.

‘Elaborate.’

‘How many rings would you wish to attempt?’

Thoughtfully, the High Prince narrowed his eyes.

‘Hmm... Eight, ten?’

Glorfindel tilted his head slightly.

‘Would you try twelve? You used to try twelve all the time, just for fun.’

He watched the Elf-lord purse his lips.

‘Are you challenging me, Glorfindel of Imloth?’

With a nod, Glorfindel assented.

‘I think I am, Ereinion of Tirion.’

‘And when is this to occur?’

‘Tomorrow at noon.’

‘We shall see if despite politics, I am still able to handle a spear.’

‘It was never a problem before.’

‘Do not make me blush.’

‘The person that can make you blush has yet to be found on Aman.’

‘Hmm,’ Ereinion said, attempting to look innocent. ‘For all you know...’

‘Ah, but I do, you see,’ Glorfindel persisted, not far away from chuckling out loud. ‘From what I hear, you are considered to be a true saint. Always kind, but never too kind as to attract the anger of husbands.’

‘Is it not possible I can keep secrets surprisingly well?’

‘Not even you can keep them that well.’

Ereinion smirked, and they entered the library, where Elrond already stood waiting.

‘So Tirion has granted you leave?’

Dropping the surplus of clothing on a chair, the High Prince smiled.

‘Not exactly, so better not ask, mellon.’

At the same moment, a lady rose from a seat nearby.

‘Ereinion, is it truly you?’ she asked, and it was her hair alone that made him recognise her, much changed from the young girl he had known years ago.

‘Celebriníel... You have grown as lovely as your mother,’ he replied, catching the hand she offered.

For a moment he was uncertain as to how to respond further, but she solved the dilemma by firmly embracing him.

‘And your words are as sweet as ever, my Lord, but that should not surprise me since it concerns a politician.’

Elrond and Glorfindel chuckled as Ereinion grinned.

‘You have not only grown to her likeness, but developed that rapid tongue your mother possesses as well.’

‘I take that as the highest compliment you can give me, my Lord,’ she smiled broadly.

‘And you should,’ he nodded. ‘You should.’

With a smile and a nod towards the Elf-lords, the youngest lady of the House took her leave and Elrond invited them further inside. Glorfindel raised a hand.

‘I fear I must decline,’ he smiled, ‘for there is still enough to be done before tomorrow.’ He looked at Elrond. ‘And the Lord of the House left most of the preparations in my hands.’

With a smile, Elrond nodded.

‘Get you gone, Glorfindel.’

With a playful nod to Ereinion, the golden-haired Elf-lord went on his way, and the other two continued into the study. Surprised, Ereinion shook his head.

‘I had not seen Celebriníel for... Since you spent that year in Tirion.’

Elrond smiled.

‘You have missed each other by mere days, even hours, over the years. She travels to the Gardens of Lórien often, where her grandparents reside as ever. Much to do with her studies as well.’

‘How are Celeborn and Galadriel?’

‘They are well, I hear,’ Elrond replied.

‘Celebrían travels there often, I expect?’

Elrond shook his head with a smile.

‘She rarely does; it is her father that travels here more often. Celebriníel usually accompanies Elladan or Celeborn.’

‘Ah yes, I saw Elladan and Aurehen in Tirion, not long ago. My congratulations.’

There appeared a proud glimmer in Elrond’s eyes.

‘I expect them to return before nightfall.’

Nodding, Ereinion sat down, and Elrond handed him a glass of wine before smiling broadly.

‘Is it true there are bets on when you will betroth yourself in Tirion?’

Putting down the glass he had brought to his lips, Ereinion laughed.

‘I in fact enquired into the matter and discovered this to be true... Yet most gamblers still believe me to be the bachelor of before.’

‘Are they right to?’

The High Prince seemed to consider his answer for a moment.

‘Probably. I have not been hit over the head with love yet.’

‘Hmm,’ Elrond replied, tightening his lips in an attempt to hide his still broadening smile. Both of them sipped their glasses for a moment before Elrond regained most of his seriousness.

‘Gildor is here too, somewhere.’

Ereinion raised an eyebrow.

‘From where comes the need to tell me this?’

‘I am merely being informative, you have nothing against him, have you?’ Elrond smiled, knowing very well that most of the heated public discussions Ereinion had in the Council were with Gildor Inglorion.

‘Nothing against him, I think he has proven an astute politician.’

‘And you are still impaired with that which they call political correctness, I hear.’

‘Indeed,’ Ereinion smiled. Elrond nodded.

‘How much do you suppose your name influences decisions nowadays?’

‘I heard recently that someone was wondering why, instead of leading opposition parties, the three High Princes tend to unite when it concerns political matters. I suppose it is true we have never risen against each other, basically because it has never been necessary. Perhaps time will tell who has most legislative power. At the moment I think my influence comes mainly from my father’s and grandfather’s support,’ he paused. ‘I still cannot convince you to enter the governing body?’

Elrond smiled wryly.

‘I mingled in the politics of Middle-earth because you did, and later because I felt it my responsibility and because no one else would. I have no wish to enter into it again now.’

‘You sound like I did, not too many years ago,’ Ereinion smirked.

‘Perhaps. But I did not start my life anew. I think I have had enough politics to last me a long, long time.’ Elrond returned, undoubtedly amused.

—~~*~~—

Leaving Elrond to his business, Ereinion walked to his rooms, a route he had often taken over the years, but seemed new and strange at present nevertheless. Hopefully his luggage, even though it did not consist of much, had already been brought up there.

Not paying attention, he took a sharp corner and accidentally walked into someone, only catching an arm just in time to prevent the person from losing balance completely.

‘I do apologise,’ he began, then smiled.

Celebriníel shook her head.

‘It was my fault. Could I ask a favour though?’

‘Name it,’ he replied.

‘I am being chased rather irritatingly by a young Elf. Would you lend me your arm and escort me to my mother’s chambers please?’

‘You take refuge on my arm?’ he chuckled.

‘I do,’ she grinned back. ‘For you have a tendency to scare them away naturally.’

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

‘You must be joking.’

She smiled amusedly.

‘I must be.’

Watching his reaction, she was quick to explain.

‘They hear of your discussions in the Council. Perhaps those are somewhat exaggerated, but you are made out to be a fierce opponent. They would never dare come near you and act as childish as they would around me on my own.’

‘I see,’ he nodded, more pleased than he would let on.

‘My father’s presence has the same effect, of course,’ she reassured. ‘But perhaps that is another matter entirely.’

‘He tells me you visit the Gardens of Lórien often?’

She nodded.

‘I do, my grandfather often comes to collect me. He is much help to me in my studies, and I can better bear him then Adar at times. You have been to the Gardens?’

Ereinion laughed.

‘I came there often before your father arrived on Aman, when your mother still lived there.’

‘I love it there, but I miss my parents too much. And Ada does not truly like it there, and Nana rather stays with him. But you know Lórien well?’

‘I used to, but I have not been there in quite some time. Too far away, I suppose. No amount of yewtrees and cedars call vigorously enough for me to actually make the trip.’

As they entered into the next hallway, Celebriníel shook her head.

‘I do not expect I shall have time to make the trip often either, now.’

‘Ah yes, I think it was your brother who told me that you had decided upon a deeper a study of ancient Elvish languages?’ Ereinion offered, looking at her with an unmistakable smile.

Celebriníel chuckled.

‘I made my father very happy that day. It will most likely force me to go to Tirion often. And that means Imloth shall be my home again.’

‘It sounds very interesting.’

‘It is at times. But often, I suppose, it is as boring as your common Council meeting. It can be very dry. My mother is quite interested in it though. Sometimes too much so.’

Bowing his head, Ereinion could not suppress yet another chuckle.

She had indeed grown up in her mother’s likeness.

‘But pray, tell, who is this Elf that chases you?’

‘Ah, that would be Arinmîr. Aurehen’s parents have already arrived and he accompanied them. I think he was more bearable when younger.’

‘You make it sound as if your life spanned at least three times his years.’

‘Well, he seemed less eager to prove himself when he was younger,’ she shrugged. ‘Most Elves my age tend to give me that impression. But Nana says I am too much like Ada in that aspect. I suppose she is right,’ she smiled. ‘I can wait an Age and see how I feel about such things then.’

‘So, you do not wish to betroth yourself to anyone just yet?’

‘If memory serves me right, the only proposal of marriage I ever made was to you,’ she chuckled. ‘And you were not very enthusiastic. Perhaps you malformed my feelings towards marriage somewhat.’

He laughed.

‘Ah, but we were both young and impulsive at that time, Lady, so let us forget such proposals.’

‘We kiss and part?’ she smiled.

He looked up and then down the hallway.

‘It seems we part in any case, for we have arrived at your mother’s chambers, unless I am much mistaken. Unscathed, even.’

‘So it seems,’ she replied, releasing his arm. She made to enter the chambers beyond, but stopped for a moment. ‘I expect I shall see you at dinner?’

Ereinion consented with a nod.

‘Very likely.’

‘Good,’ she smiled, her hand resting on the handle of the door.

‘Give my regards to your mother.’

‘I will.’

As the door closed, Ereinion stood waiting a moment, before shaking his head. With an inward chuckle, he turned and once more began to make his way to his rooms, in the hope this time he would not be led further away from them.

—~~*~~—

Celebriníel made her way through the first chamber of the rooms belonging to her parents, finding her mother staring into a closet, several dresses draped over her arm.

‘Oh, I can be such a child,’ she sighed, as she dropped onto a chair.

Celebrían observed her daughter, raising an eyebrow. With a swift movement she dropped the dresses she had been carrying into Celebriníel’s arms.

‘And what is it now, that makes you lament as you do?’

A little self-conscious all of a sudden, Celebriníel shook her head, feeling her cheeks redden.

‘I was babbling again.’

Celebrían nodded, retrieving yet another piece of clothing from the closet and inspecting it further.

‘I cannot believe your father insists on keeping these shirts. It is not as if he ever wears them.’ She sighed and looked at her daughter. ‘To whom was this babbling directed, exactly?’

‘Ereinion,’ Celebriníel replied shortly, waving a hand, not wishing to dwell on it for too long. ‘He sends his regards.’

Wishing quite the opposite, her mother halted for a moment and smiled.

‘And when was it that he arrived?’

‘I am not certain, but I left the library when he came to see Ada. I merely ran into him in the hallway later on. Literally.’

‘You do this often? Running into people? Literally?’ Celebrían teased, continuing on the subject on purpose.

‘I cannot help you and Ada have so many guests around the house. It is a miracle if one can cross the hallway without running into someone. Literally.’

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Anar had already gone, only its reddish glow still lighting up the sky as Elrond left the house and descended the steps, meeting his eldest son and his wife below. Aurehen smiled as the elder Elf-lord stretched out a hand to her. Catching it, she squeezed it thankfully.

‘How was your journey?’ Elrond asked, offering his arm.

‘Uneventful,’ Elladan answered, as he walked beside his father, folding his arms behind his back.

‘So he says,’ Aurehen spoke softly to her father-in-law, ‘but he is not carrying the child.’

With a chuckle, Elrond placed his hand on her arm as they ascended the steps.

‘Am I right to assume you shall stay here?’

Aurehen nodded.

‘I am not intent on going anywhere now,’ she said with a weak smile. ‘I am tired, and hungry, and simply wish some rest, at the moment.’

Entering the house, Elrond halted in the hall, at the foot of a new flight of stairs.

‘Dinner has just started, so you could easily join. But if you would rather rest, I will ask someone to bring up a meal.’

Considering for a moment, the Elf-lady reached for Elladan’s hand, smiling at him, then at Elrond.

‘If you give me a moment to change, I shall join you presently.’

Both nodded.

‘We shall wait for you here,’ Elrond smiled.

As she disappeared into one of the hallways, the Lord of the House turned to his son and embraced him.

‘How was Tirion?’

‘Busy,’ Elladan replied. ‘It made me realise I prefer having Imloth for a home, as opposed to the City. Also, that not always having the entire family living together, or near each other, can be a blessing.’

Elrond nodded with a smile.

‘There was a time when we were not very close as a family. But we survived it. Perhaps, in a sense, it has brought us closer.’

Elladan smiled and shook his head.

‘Believe me, we were never quite like that.’

Silent for a moment, Elrond looked up at Elladan again.

‘You brother will join us as well?’

His son nodded.

‘Tomorrow morning. There were some things he wished to wait for, so he could discuss them with Ereinion if it was required. But if you will excuse me as well, I shall change out of my riding clothes swiftly.’

With a pat on the shoulder, Elrond grinned.

‘Go.’

—~~*~~—

‘Yes, but how does one judge if a literary text transcends history? Do you wait? How does one determine the intrinsic artistic worth?’ Celebriníel asked, shaking her head.

‘Well, it is not as if we do not have enough time,’ Ereinion answered calmly, rising to collect a decanter of wine. ‘Some literary works simply stay, are repeated through time, where others seem to be more of a fashion, a style connected to a certain point in history.’

‘But do they not represent that certain period in time? Does that not make them equally important?’

Pouring himself some more wine, offering Glorfindel and Erestor, who sat on either side of him, a refill, Ereinion shook his head.

‘Through time, the Elves have always had a tendency to distinguish between literature of history, the tales one hears told from early childhood on, and literature created more in the spur of the moment, of a kind less general. Often different parts of the latter kind are known only in certain circles. That makes them more suitable for storytelling sessions in which one wishes to surprise the listener, where the ancient tales are more or less to show how well a speaker or singer is familiar with the tale, and demonstrate a degree of distinction in bringing it.’

‘You say literature has different functions?’

Sitting down, not able to suppress a smile, Ereinion took a pensive sip from his glass.

‘I believe I am.’

‘And is this a conventional point of view?’ Celebriníel replied, more than a trace of irony in her question.

Celebrían raised an eyebrow from across the table, but Ereinion merely smiled.

‘I would not dare to claim my views are conventional.’

Glorfindel shook his head.

‘You would not, but there can be no denying Ereinion Gil-galad was quite the literary patron in his time.’

With a smile, Ereinion chewed on some bread.

‘But mostly renowned for his shiny armour. The brilliant strategist and fine warrior were sadly forgotten in song.’

‘Ah, but not in books, I would think. Even the casual student of the Second Age cannot deny being acquainted with your strategies.’

Ereinion turned and grinned at Elrond, standing up to raise his glass.

‘It was about time you came to the rescue.’

The rest of the Elves sitting around the table also rose to greet Elladan and Aurehen, who had accompanied Elrond.

Celebriníel had soon forgotten any conversation she had been taking part in and was silently conversing with Aurehen, who was now seated next to her. Others around the table were not so quick to let it go by.

‘Of course, Elven kings can be no less important patrons of literature than they are warriors. It is not possible to be at war all the time,’ Arinmîr said. ‘Both sword and writing gear are tools a ruler needs.’

‘Or a spear and writing gear, for that matter.’

Ereinion watched the two ladies from the other side of the table, listening only with half an ear to the conversation nearby, the one he was supposedly involved in.

He was nudged by Glorfindel, and turned to meet Gildor’s questioning eyes.

‘I apologise, I was not listening.’

‘Apparently you were not,’ the Elf-lord said, more than slightly amused.

‘Perchance I have grown accustomed to hearing your voice and as a result tend to pay little heed to it,’ Ereinion shrugged teasingly.

Gildor smiled, sitting down on a nearby chair.

‘Or perhaps you were preoccupied with other... matters.’

‘Like what?’

‘I would not know.’ Gildor said innocently.

Ereinion rose with a sigh.

‘Well, this is not something new.’

Glorfindel looked up at him.

‘You are not going?’

‘Not far anyway, I shall be returning presently.’

Patting Gildor on the shoulder as he passed by, Ereinion left the hall, finding himself heading for the gardens quite involuntarily.

Darkness had already fallen, but the stars stood out brightly in the night sky.

The midnight-air blew playfully through his hair, and he closed his eyes for a moment.

No one would come disturb him now, telling him there were visitors, messages, councils...

‘Did I offend you?’

The voice cut sharply through the silence he had imagined. Turning, he found Celebriníel watching him, looking somewhat uncomfortable.

He shook his head and smiled.

‘You did not, do not be troubled. It is not often I can simply step outside and have a moment to myself, I merely took advantage of the opportunity. But it was impolite of me to leave without word to anyone.’

‘Ah, I do not think many looked strangely upon it,’ the girl spoke in a relieved tone. ‘And if it is some peace you seek, I shall leave you.’

‘No, no, stay,’ he said quickly, raising a hand. ‘I shall be returning shortly anyway, and I would enjoy some company until I do.’

Nearing him, Celebriníel looked up at the sky as well.

‘It is a very clear night.’

‘That it certainly is,’ Ereinion nodded. ‘Menelvagor,’ he said softly, as he pointed upwards, ‘the Swordsman of the Sky... With Remmirath to the North and Helluin to the South...’ His hand wandered seemingly pointlessly through the air, and he felt foolish.

‘Stars seem to bring peace. Stability,’ she said, gazing up. ‘At least they seem to bring that to me.’

Somehow they do not seem to bring me much now... Ereinion thought, strangely enough finding himself comparing her hair to the silver veil Ithil had laid over everything.

‘No doubt there will be storytelling tonight?’ he asked, not comfortable with the silence somehow.

She nodded, smiling broadly.

‘No doubt.’

‘You used to like stories.’

With a dreamy look she stared up again.

‘I still do. I heard most of them over the years, you see, my father loved telling them, and I loved to listen.’

Ereinion smiled.

‘Your father is a great storyteller.’

There sounded an unmistakable pride in her voice when she answered.

‘That he is...’ Celebriníel looked at Ereinion. ‘It was only much later that I understood how personal those stories all were to him. For me they were just that, tales, for him and the rest of the family they were reality, things that occurred in their shared past.’

Thoughtfully he nodded, offering his arm and slowly guiding her inside again.

‘Is that hard? I mean...’

‘Hmm, I do not know. It is what I grew up with.’ Suddenly she placed a hand on his arm and stopped him. ‘Do you remember that story you told me once, with Elernil and Arinmîr? The one about the craftsman making the harp?’

‘I do,’ he answered, easily distinguishing one of his favourite stories from her description.

‘Tell that one tonight?’

Slowly he nodded, as they entered the house again.

‘If you wish.’

Smiling, she nodded.

‘I will very much enjoy hearing it again.’

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Menelvagor: Elvish name for the star-group we know as Orion

Remmirath: Elvish name for the cluster today called the Pleiades

Helluin: Elvish for the star we call Sirius

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