High Princes of Tirion
by Nemis

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Chapter Thirty-Two     Stolen Moments

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Closing her eyes, feeling the wind on her face and toying with her hair, Celebriníel walked through the grass barefooted. Quietly she had slipped away, from her father and Glorfindel speaking softly together, sitting near the open window, from her mother and Mîrlinde fussing over her dress, and from Elrohir being occupied with further preparations. Ereinion would not like such a fuss either, she considered. In a moment she would return, she told herself, she had only eluded everyone a little, and it was not her intention to worry the others with her absence, nor did she wish to miss Ereinion’s arrival. But for now she was merely glad to ease her mind. Out here, her nervousness seemed unimportant.

There was a pressure in the warm evening air that announced rain, and she recalled the rainy days which had preceded Ereinion’s departure from Imloth many years earlier. No doubt soon a similar pouring rain would start.

She had thought she had lost him then, that he would leave and not return, like it happened in the stories in her father’s books. In a sense, she had lost him at the time, she thought. Even though he had returned to her.

Will you go splashing through rain puddles with him again? she asked herself with a sigh. Of course not. All was so different now. More difficult? Very possibly.

Sitting down on a stone bench amidst the trees she closed her eyes and listened to some last birds singing their goodnight. Not difficult now, she would not allow anything to be difficult at this present time. She breathed out, letting her last worries speed from her mind. How horrible would it be to live in gardens forever?

With her thoughts on peaceful matters, she was not aware another lingered in the gardens, aware of the fact that he was early, and not yet ready to enter the house.

Ereinion had seen her come into the garden, had stood quietly watching as she walked the grass, deep in thought, before pulling up her dresses a little and sitting down, the silver of her hair magnificent on the dark green of the dress she wore.

He had been caught up in some contemplating of family history before she came, and now found himself confronted with a strange sequence of thought connected to that. Her line... He wondered if it was his heart speaking or whether it was something else that made her so utterly enchanting here, more than ever before. It came to him that perhaps it was his doom to fall even more helplessly in love with her at this moment, in this place. Ladies of her line seem to have made their history in woods and gardens.

He was aware her eyes had closed, and he found himself unable to remain where he was. Silently he crossed the distance between them, his eyes never leaving her, somehow afraid to surprise her, longing for her to look up and see him, while at the same time fearing it.

We have only been playing until now.

They had. It seemed to have stretched for so long, but was near nothing when he truly considered it. The testing, the stolen moments... When was it certain? How soon had it been? That both of them had known?

It had to have been when Arinmîr... Ereinion nodded to himself. They had played before that, the push and pull of slight jealousy and fear of feelings, followed by serious moments. More play had followed, no longer jealous, but still uncertain. Until the eve of her begetting day celebrations. And yet that had been the greatest playing of all. All had been pronounced then, and yet not. Only to be followed by her fall...

Their games had turned gentler, with awareness for the need of a kind of secrecy.

But an entirely new thing had started when she had come to him, to Tirion. Even if neither of them realised it at the time, it seemed Elrond had.

They were lovers now, in the only sense possible. Soon, if it had not started already, they would begin edging closer to a true bond, one which could stand against time, learning each other’s minds, acquainting themselves with what a single touch could do, how a mere glance could bring pleasure as well as pain, because that final connection would not be there yet, was not yet allowed.

When he reached Celebriníel, he only hesitated a moment, then brought up his hand to sweep some strands of hair away. The tips of his fingers brushed her face and he expected she would open her eyes.

But instead she kept them closed and pressed her cheek against the palm of his hand.

‘Suilad, Ereinion.’

Ever watching her, touching skin however innocently, her name was the only thing he could manage to whisper.

At the quiet tone of his voice, she did meet his gaze. She seemed almost to be studying him, merely taking in the sight of him.

He wore mainly dark blue, the collar of his tunic not entirely fastened, showing a white shirt underneath. The intricate silver embroidery on his chest almost made his garments seem official. And yet there was something in his demeanour that was all but official... His hair braided only slightly, there could still be no doubt it had been done with care.

There was so much in his eyes, and she marvelled once again at the expression there, her stomach tumbling, knowing it was she who had caused some of that look.

And no other has won your heart in all those years? she considered, looking up at him. Not even tried? Such fools...

Ereinion watched her study him, his fingers moving slightly, caressing. Long had he forbidden himself to even hope of this, but here she was... here he was...

Darkness had slowly advanced around them, but above, Isil and Eärendil stood clear and brightly in the sky. And there was light enough between them to keep the night away.

Tilting her head up with his index finger, Ereinion watched her as her fingers followed some of the silver embroidery on his chest. He smiled, almost shivering.

Lady, you know not what you do to me...

He did not pay attention to her fingers seizing the sides of his tunic, the movement was too light, and he could not bring himself to look away from her face. Quite unexpectedly she used her hold to pull him down to his knees, and he gave in at once, there being not much else to do.

He watched her, his heart beating soundly, heat streaming into his face. So close now, the blushes high on her cheekbones, the glimmer in her eyes, and he felt her fingers playing at the sides of his tunic still.

She smiled before sitting forward, reaching out to touch his face as if to study it more, and then bending close to brush her lips against his.

It was not out of his own accord that his hands moved back the silver hair that had fallen forward, they were doing this without much of his instruction.

But as she kissed him, he was aware of how he rose on his knees further to meet her, leading her head, deepening the merging of lips. Her hand grasped the front of his tunic firmly as she replied with passion, sighing softly.

Almost had he encircled her waist and pulled her into his lap, if only to feel her weight against him, to torture himself with the thought of something that was not yet to be.

But he did not, instead allowing her the lead as she pulled him closer, and he somehow found her knees pressing against his sides. He recalled sentimental love poetry which spoke of delightful agony, and he suspected this was it. To know it to be so close, and at the same time being aware of propriety and custom forbidding it. Her body, her breath against his skin... Her innocent hands awakening a fire in him he did not think he could quench.

‘Briníel,’ he whispered, not in too much haste to end their kisses, receiving her lips again shortly before speaking further. ‘You do not know what you do to me.’

Resting his head on her shoulder, his arms around her, he felt her embrace him also, her head resting against his, fingers slowly combing through his hair. Her lips were so close to his ear that he could feel the warmth of them. When she spoke, her breath against his skin made him giddy, a sudden flutter in his stomach.

‘How long have you been waiting?’

He chuckled, pressing his lips to her shoulder, lifting his head to meet her eyes.

‘Here, in the garden, or...?’

She smiled, teasingly raising an eyebrow while stroking his cheek.

‘You cannot have been waiting long either way.’

His eyes went dark as he stared at her, and for a little while even his earlier amusement disappeared from his countenance. Celebriníel let her fingers follow the features of his face, feeling his eyes on her, his hands on her body, motionless. She was glad to see him finally smile.

‘I am not very good at waiting,’ he remarked in a whisper.

Moving a thumb over his lower lip she shook her head.

‘Does it not depend on what exactly you are waiting for?’

‘Yes, it does,’ he nodded, his eyes still locked with hers.

Somewhere, there was a world beyond the garden, beyond the two of them, but his mind seemed to have some trouble registering anything except... her face... her hands... her lips... Her lips.

Again his breath escaped his control, becoming so much deeper, more laboured, his head lighter. Closing his eyes an instant, it was only to find Celebriníel’s behaviour alike, her eyes fixed on him, chest heaving.

‘To Mandos with it all,’ he mumbled before securing his arms around her waist, meeting her lips urgently. Her hands were on his shoulders, then in his hair, her mouth on his, breath mingling as her body arched against him.

He listened to her whimper against his lips, but heard himself positively gasp when she slipped off the bench and into his lap. Their kiss ceased and he, trying to control everything from breathing to body, looked up and found her eyes glimmering, almost teasingly so.

‘You wish to go into the house?’

‘Truthfully?’ he asked, making her laugh.

‘Always truthfully,’ she replied, plucking at his collar.

‘In truth I would wish to spend the evening here. You and I.’ He smiled, running a hand through her hair.

‘Strange, is it not? she answered almost dreamily. ‘That we both wish this thing, and yet we are both aware we shall go inside before long, and almost pretend it did not happen.’

She moved in his lap and he felt his stomach flutter, knowing it was imperative for them to leave the garden, or at least this position if he wished to keep his intentions honourable.

‘But there will be such evenings when we can do as we please. I promise you there will be,’ he returned softly.

A soft rumble in the sky seemed intent on ending their private encounter, but they remained as they were until the rain did softly start. Celebriníel looked up at Ereinion.

‘Another stolen moment?’

Thoughtfully, he shook his head.

‘It does not seem stolen any longer.’

He pushed himself up slowly, looking down, watching her face turning up to meet his eyes. Her hand found his, and she rose also, brushing against him, and he wondered once again if she knew what effect it had on him.

Together they neared the house, and entered where Celebriníel had exited earlier, finding themselves in a darkened corridor, light at the end.

It was as if something had changed while she was away, Celebriníel considered, still feeling the heat in her face, her body glowing similarly.

Her father was now seated next to her mother, his arm resting around her waist, listening to Glorfindel with a smile. Halting with her in the doorway, it seemed Ereinion was also attempting to judge the mood of the company.

Elrohir noticed them first, as he appeared to notice all and everything nowadays.

‘Ah, just arrived, my Lord?’

Ereinion nodded towards Celebriníel.

‘She found me in the garden.’

‘You were lost?’ Mîrlinde asked with a glimmer in her eyes. The garden lay to the side of the house, and guests were not likely to stray there by accident.

‘Only a little,’ Celebriníel joined in. ‘He was recovered in time.’

Together they stepped into the chamber. Elrond rose and walked over to a decanter to pour a glass of wine.

‘We thought that perhaps Tirion’s business kept you,’ he said, returning to offer Ereinion the beverage.

Accepting it gratefully, Ereinion shook his head.

‘It did not, even if I did not manage to bring a great deal of work to completion this afternoon either.’ He made it sound like he was in jest, that it concerned something unimportant, but was well aware how preoccupied he exactly had been.

‘Oh?’ Elrond replied, raising an eyebrow, but smiling also. Ereinion suspected him to have picked up on the wandering of his mind.

There seemed no real need for an explanation, and yet he elucidated shortly, feeling he had to, before bringing the glass to his lips.

‘Did not have my mind on it.’

Not replying vocally, Elrond bowed his head and seated himself on the armrest of the chair in which Celebrían still sat. Slipping an arm around Elrond’s waist again, Celebrían locked her eyes on Ereinion’s face.

‘Elernil mentioned your father visited you this afternoon? Before he ran off again, that is.’

Twirling the liquid in the glass, not truly tasting, Ereinion made an affirmative gesture.

‘He came to enquire after my absence.’

‘Your parents are both well?’

‘Quite,’ Ereinion smiled. ‘My father is busy with a new project in the City, and my mother always has her occupations.’

‘Celebrimbor?’

He smiled at the thought of the small boy. He would have to take Celebriníel back to meet Celebrimbor and Nerdanel properly. And to see his handiwork.

‘Well also, though Nerdanel tells me she fears he shall fall out of his tree house soon, he is clambering about it so much. I admit it does not set me at ease.’

‘I trust he will land on his feet. Elflings have a tendency to.’

And as she finished her sentence, Ereinion realised it had gone, his initial unease. He gave Celebrían a thankful nod and received a playful but understanding wink in reply, before the lady turned her attention to her husband.

So many things she had to consider, he thought. Mediating in a situation such as this one...

A touch to his arm brought him to notice Mîrlinde beside him, offering him a delicacy.

‘We go to dinner soon, but nevertheless.’

Suddenly aware he had eaten only sporadically the past days he thankfully accepted. His eyes sought Celebriníel, found her nearby, and switched to Elrond.

‘You shall stay in Tirion?’

With a smile down at Celebrían, Elrond nodded and found her hand with his.

‘We shall.’

Celebrían entwined her fingers with Elrond’s and shot him a look that was hard to misinterpret.

‘It will be good to spend some time here.’

Chewing, not actually tasting, Ereinion raised an eyebrow, pretending not to notice.

‘Library?’

‘Naturally,’ she replied. ‘Not to say my husband’s library is a mere trifle. But the Great Library... And to see our family, of course. We seem to spend time here only so rarely.’

‘Tirion has many ways to occupy you,’ Ereinion remarked, succeeding in freeing his expression and tone of voice of either regret or amusement. ‘I find it is near impossible to be here and not find yourself occupied in one manner or other.’

‘I, for one, was planning on at least attempting to keep occupation at bay,’ Elrond commented with a slight grin.

‘Still, if you change your mind, you can always visit the Council,’ Elrohir offered, providing more wine.

‘Hmm, yes,’ Ereinion replied, exchanging another glance with Celebriníel, who sent him a smile from the windowsill. ‘Though keep in mind we shall be adjourning tomorrow. Then again, you would be certain to meet family there tomorrow.’

Elrond nodded.

‘You postpone until?’

‘Six days from now.’

‘Is that common?’

‘It is not, but there is a betrothal ceremony that shall have many council members attending and occupied, and since there is no business that needs our immediate attention at present, the High King decided we adjourn for a longer period.’

Elrohir, who had shortly disappeared into an adjoining chamber, now returned, smiling invitingly.

‘Dinner?’

The party sounded their unanimous approval and entered the dining room, conversation continuing.

‘Betrothal ceremony?’ Elrond asked, rounding the table to take a seat next to Celebrían.

Ereinion nodded as he held out a chair for Celebriníel, motioning her to sit. Celebriníel felt hot, hoping it did not show too obviously. Fixing her eyes on her plate, she tried to will the blush from her cheeks. Ereinion seemed unaware and unperturbed as he spoke.

‘A cousin of my mother’s.’

‘You are to attend?’

Sitting down, Ereinion smiled awkwardly, brushing his hand against Celebriníel’s unseen, giving her a slight indication he was all too well aware of how she felt. From the corner of his eyes he saw her look at him and instantly felt his ears redden.

‘I shall be expected to put in an appearance, no doubt.’ He looked at his plate a moment before meeting Elrond’s eyes, deciding he would just pretend nothing was amiss. ‘If she has no plans, and you are still in the City, perhaps Briníel would like to accompany me.’

Elrond frowned almost unnoticeably, before meeting his daughter’s eyes. Whatever he found there made his expression clear again.

‘If she wishes to, I do not believe there is a problem.’ Celebriníel exchanged an excited glance with Ereinion.

‘You do realise you are then responsible for my daughter’s introduction into Tirion society, Ereinion?’ Celebrían teased as she arranged a napkin on her lap, taking the opportunity to place a comforting hand on Elrond’s thigh.

‘Ah, no, truly, if you would come to the Council tomorrow it will very possibly remain in your hands. And I would think she needs no introduction.’ Adding the last sentence, Ereinion cast fleeting look at Celebriníel once more, who returned his gaze with as much of a beaming smile as she dared to give him.

Glorfindel, on the other side, exchanged an amused look with Celebrían, and even Elrond appeared to have a twinkle in his eyes.

Before anyone could comment, the first platters of food were brought in, dinner commencing.

Celebrían observed mostly, watching Elrond in conversation with Ereinion and Glorfindel, with Celebriníel providing the High Prince with small amounts of the foodstuff which had been brought in on the serving dishes. Countless quick nods and quiet smiles were exchanged between them, and she didn’t believe the blush ever left her daughter’s cheeks.

She suspected Elrond was very much aware of it, as were Glorfindel and Ereinion himself, together with, most likely, the rest of the table.

The sound of doors closing within the house, and Elernil’s cheerful voice speaking to someone. Mîrlinde rose with a smile and disappeared, only to return again almost instantly. Elrohir sat seemingly deep in thought.

‘Elernil will join us shortly.’

Her words caused Ereinion to look up from his food and momentarily halted conversation.

‘Errantry?’

She nodded and sat down.

‘For your father, apparently.’

Elrond sat back and met Celebrían’s eyes. If there was something amiss it did not show from his demeanour.

‘We shall go to the Council then, tomorrow?’

‘I believe I would enjoy that,’ Celebrían smiled, as she looked at Celebriníel. ‘Perhaps we can fit in a short visit to the Great Library early in the morning. Unless we must be at the Council very early?’

The question was clearly directed at Ereinion, who had not expected it, and had been on the verge of starting a whispered conversation with Celebriníel.

Elrond tried to hide his smile as he faced his friend for an answer as well.

‘Not at all,’ the High Prince replied, finding his voice just in time. ‘I can safely say the meeting will not end before noon. You should be able to visit the library without difficulty.’

Quick steps sounded from outside the room, and then Elernil entered, fastening a last button of his tunic. Sporting a radiant smile, he nodded at everyone and sat down, helping himself to the nearest plate.

‘No messages?’ Elrohir asked, as he watched his son sip some wine Ereinion had poured him.

Elernil nodded.

‘One message, the Lord Fingon invites everyone for luncheon tomorrow. After the adjourning.’

‘Is there need for confirmation?’

With a shake of the head Elernil waited with taking a bite.

‘He assumes you will all come, and only wished to know when this is not the case.’

‘You will wish to go?’ Ereinion asked, fixing his eyes on some sugared fruit which stood a little removed, eyeing it wearily.

‘I suppose,’ Elrond replied, throwing a questioning glance at Celebrían, who nodded, and smiled at Ereinion.

‘The times when I get the opportunity to meet your mother are too few as it is.’

‘That sounds like something she would say,’ the High Prince chuckled, casually picking some of the sweets he had just been contemplating.

The dinner continued a while longer, without any exceptional occurrences. Afterwards there was more conversation, and it was well into the night when Ereinion announced his departure. Even if some of the atmosphere had been awkward earlier in the evening, it had vanished entirely as the night had progressed. It had likely come as close to times of old as possible.

He said quick goodbyes, since they would soon meet again, and only when he halted by the door, ready to venture into the dark and wet night, did he quickly embrace Celebriníel, pressing his lips against her cheek, lingering there long enough for a whisper.

‘Be sure to be in your rooms in a little while.’

Had he not given a poignant look to accompany his words, she might have simply taken it as teasing advice. The situation as it was, she simply nodded, a now all too familiar blush colouring her cheeks. After a last squeeze of her hand and a general wish for a good night he slipped outside and disappeared into the darkness.

Celebriníel lingered a little downstairs, but soon sought out her rooms upstairs. Lighting a small lantern, she made ready for bed, opening the glass doors of the balcony so she could hear the ever-continuing drip of the rain. And waited for a possible explanation to Ereinion’s earlier words.

‘You have just gone insane,’ he muttered to himself under his breath, climbing a convenient, but increasingly slippery ivy to reach the balcony. ‘For all you know, this is accidentally Elrond’s room, and he will chuck you off if you do not manage to fall down yourself...’

Arriving on the platform, he threw a leg over the balustrade and sighed with relief, and not only because he could observe Celebriníel through the open doors. Running his hands through his wet hair, he finally called out to her softly, and watched her rise and slowly near. Her eyes glimmered.

‘I thought you might come.’

He grinned.

‘Only for a moment.’

Her eyes seemed to take in his wet garments, and a worried expression crossed her features.

‘You do not wish to come inside?’

‘I... I am not certain.’ He realised his voice sounded his hesitation all too well.

‘Then why come?’ she asked, almost smiling.

‘To take leave of my lady in private.’

Offering his hand with a smile, he pulled her closer, bringing her hand up to his lips, before proceeding to a fuller embrace, slipping his arms around her waist and slowly bringing his face closer to hers. With a happy sigh, Celebriníel placed her arms around his neck, as his lips began moving over her face.

‘Ereinion,’ she whispered. ‘Tomorrow, do you think...’

Before she could finish the sentence, he silenced her with a kiss, before moving back to her cheek and just below her ear.

‘Hush, lady.’

And then there was warmth, and the feeling of his lips on hers, fast becoming more feverous, and she pressed against him, lips keeping lips occupied. Gathering her even closer, Ereinion decided to simply give in. With one arm around her waist, he let the other move through her hair. And then her fingers were on his skin, had slipped underneath his tunic and were resting on his back.

‘Not even your mother can save us now if your father catches us like this,’ he whispered breathlessly.

‘I think we are long past saving, Ereinion,’ she teased, but the movements of her hands had stopped.

‘So shy you were at dinner,’ he teased her in return. ‘It was not so by the sea.’

She smiled.

‘I had been spoiled with your company too long, I believe. And here... all is different.’

He looked down at her seriously.

‘In a bad way?’

‘No,’ she shook her head. ‘Just... different.’

Pulling her close for a last embrace, he had to restrain every urge in his body to be able to withdraw. So easily could he stay now, if she let him. So effortlessly everything could change even more drastically. Stepping away, he placed a hand on her cheekbone gently before bowing his head. Celebriníel looked down, almost guiltily, and then met his eyes again. If she blushed he could not see it in the dark.

‘Get you to bed,’ he spoke softly, amusement in his tone.

Her voice echoed the sentiment.

‘Goodnight, Ereinion.’

Chastely kissing her cheek, he squeezed her hand.

‘Goodnight, my lady.’

Before she knew it, he had started his descent by means of the ivy, and then was gone, swallowed by the night. Staring into the dark for some time, Celebriníel at length turned and went inside, leaving the doors open. Even in bed, it took a long time before she stopped listening to the rain, and found sleep.