9.  Arrival in Tirion

Celeborn stood motionless on his balcony, his gazed fixed on a flock of gulls he could just make out in the distance. He watched in fascination as one with several ragged feathers indicating its great age soared with effortless grace on the air currents. The gull was barely moving its wings until, in a single movement that was almost too quick for even elvish eyes to see, it dove towards the shimmering sea below, captured its unsuspecting prey as it skimmed the surface, then rose rapidly back into the sky. Several of the younger birds gave chase, obviously with the intent of stealing the older bird’s catch, but to Celeborn’s delight, the elder outmanoeuvred his assailants and landed on the pearly shore where, amid squawks of anger that seemed to demand respect and cause the younger birds to keep their distance, the elder gull settled to eat its catch.

The sensation of arms encircling his waist from behind stirred him from his reverie, and he turned and drew Galadriel close as she rested her head on his shoulder.

“What were you looking at?” she asked, sighing softly as Celeborn kissed her silky golden hair.

“A minor battle between age and experience with the arrogance of youth,” he answered.

“Who won?” she asked, not really interested in the answer so much as in listening to the softly spoken voice of her beloved.

“The elder was accorded the respect he deserved, of course,” he replied.

“A lesson I think two young elflings of our acquaintance need to be taught,” she said with a small amount of poorly concealed aggravation. “I do not recall Celebrían ever being so mischievous at their age.”

“You have had much on your mind in recent times perhaps you have simply forgotten?” laughed Celeborn. “Both Aradir and Faerwen remind me very much of our daughter, and her sons. But pray tell me, what have they done to earn your displeasure this time?” he asked, taking her hand in his as they walked back into the house.

“They decided to resolve their difference of opinion over whose Adar was the most intelligent by having a pillow fight,” she answered with a mild look of disgust on her beautiful face.

“Surely such harmless behaviour should not be cause for upset,” said Celeborn, ever ready to take the part of the young elflings whom he adored.

“It would not have, but for the fact they chose to use the pillows in the guest room I had prepared for Thranduil and Elisiel. There are feathers everywhere in the aftermath of the battle! And I doubt they will have it cleaned properly before our guests are due to arrive,” she added unable to keep the amusement from her voice at the very apt punishment the two had earned themselves.

“Then to relieve your anxiety, I will go and supervise the work,” he offered, knowing full well that Galadriel easily discerned that he meant to help rather than watch.

“While you are ‘watching’ perhaps you could offer a few words regarding acceptable behaviour whilst we have guests?” she asked.

“For a small fee,” he teased, caressing her cheek before lifting her chin so that he could kiss her soundly.

                                       **********

With Celeborn’s timely assistance, the guest room was soon back to its former pristine state, and the elflings conceded Celeborn’s point that since Elladan and Elrohir were twins and looked so much alike, they must also share the same amount of intelligence. So it was that Galadriel’s good humour was restored and all was in order when Elrond’s party arrived later that evening. Celebrían greeted her naneth with an affectionate kiss on the cheek before throwing herself into Celeborn’s open arms.

“Good evening, Adar, I am very pleased to see you again,” she said as she returned his hug and reached up to kiss his cheek as well. “How did this little feather get in your hair?” she asked, removing the offending item from where it had caught in the clasp that held his hair back from his face

“A question best answered by your grandchildren,” laughed Celeborn as he released his daughter and greeted Elrond and his guests.

“Thranduil, welcome to Tirion,” he said clasping his distant kinsman’s shoulder in friendship before turning his attention to Elisiel. Taking her hand he lightly brushed the back of her fingers with his lips. “And welcome to your lovely Elisiel as well,” he said, genuinely pleased to see them both together at last.

“I am honoured that you invited to your home, Celeborn,” answered Thranduil a little stiffly, not feeling completely at ease in the opulence that surrounded him. Where Legolas’ furniture was very comfortable, it was mostly handcrafted by his son and was nowhere near as elaborate as the highly polished and luxuriously cushioned pieces that filled Galadriel’s sitting room. He had expected no less, but neither had he expected to feel at home as Elrond and Glorfindel obviously did. Some things never change, he mused, already longing to return to the rustic charm of the woodland dwelling that was now also his home.

“Greetings to you, my lady,” said Thranduil with a respectful bow to Galadriel who had come to stand beside her husband.

“There is no need for such formality, Thranduil,” she said with a hint of affection in her voice. Despite the difficulties that had existed between the leaders of the woodland realms of Middle-earth, she had always respected both Thranduil and Oropher before him for the strength and determination it took them to build their kingdom. “Now I am simply Galadriel.”

“As you wish, Galadriel,” agreed Thranduil finding it difficult to think of her so. Elrond had been correct, even in the relaxed surroundings of her home, there was an unmistakable air of some power about her that was indeed intimidating to him, but not to the very self assured golden lord.

“There is nothing simple about you, my dear Galadriel, nor is there one more lovely than the once Lady of the Golden Wood,” said Glorfindel copying Celeborn’s way of greeting and kissing her hand. She laughed with a sound of silvery bells and smiled brilliantly at him.

“And there is none so charming and gallant as the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower,” she replied, taking his arm and leading him and her guests to the dining room where a light meal awaited them. Celebrían was delighted when Elladan and Elrohir arrived with their wives, and they had barely entered the room when their children ran to her, both talking at once and vying for a position on her lap.

“Does no one love their grandadar?” asked Elrond, looking as sad as he could although his eyes were smiling. Faerwen quickly rushed to throw her little arms about his neck.

“I do, I do, grandada,” she said, kissing his face until the tickling sensation of her lips caused him to beg her to stop. 

“So do I,” declared Aradir without moving from Celebrían’s lap.

“I love him more!” declared Faerwen with an endearing pout as she once again attempted to choke Elrond in her eagerness to prove her words.

“No, I do!” shouted Aradir, quickly covering his mouth when he caught the stern glare from Galadriel.

“That is enough, both of you!” warned Elrond in the tone of voice he used to discipline elflings, adult sons, and even Glorfindel and Thranduil when the need arose. “I am certain our guests do not wish to witness such unruly behaviour.”

“I think you should apologise for your rudeness, Aradir,” said Elladan to his son, his own tone of voice sounding much like Elrond’s and brooking no argument.

“And so should you, Faerwen,” added Elrohir as sternly as he could to the dark haired she elfling who was the light of his life.

“I apologise, my lord and lady,” said Aradir bowing respectfully to Thranduil and Elisiel.

“And so do I,” said Faerwen doing likewise.

“We realise you were just excited to see your grandparents again, and we accept your apology. But I believe your adars have also been remiss, for I have not yet been introduced to your naneths,” he said with a wink at the two elflings causing them to smile at the thought their adars were also in trouble.

“I do apologise, my lord Thranduil. This is my lovely wife, Mariel, and beside her is Elrohir’s equally lovely wife, Amaraen,” said Elladan, pausing to allow polite nods to be exchanged.

“I am pleased to meet you both,” said Thranduil. “I believe you have already met my wife, Elisiel?”

“Yes, we both have,” answered Mariel, smiling at Elisiel. “I trust Legolas and Neridwen are well?”

“Yes, thank you, and they both send their regards,” replied Elisiel.

“Did you not bring Estellan, Lady Elisiel?” asked a very interested Faerwen, her fascination for the babe well known to all.

“No, he is still a little too young for such a long journey, but you may come and visit him when you return home,” promised Elisiel, smiling as Faerwen danced around the room and clapped her hands with joy.

 “I think this young one has had enough excitement for one day, so if you will excuse us, I will attempt to settle her to sleep,” said Amaraen, holding her hand out to her daughter.

“If there are any pillows left intact,” teased Elrohir. The news of the misdemeanour had spread rapidly throughout the household, and Elladan and Elrohir had shared a moment of merriment as they saw themselves reflected in their children.                                   

“Will you come and tell me a story, Adar?”  Entreated Faerwen.

“Yes, I will be along in a few minutes, my sweet,” promised Elrohir.

“It is also well past your bedtime, would you like to hear a story as well Aradir?” asked Elladan as the elfling followed his younger cousin’s example and kissed his elder kinfolk goodnight.

“Adar, I am ten years older than Faerwen!” he exclaimed, slightly embarrassed to admit he still loved having bedtime stories read to him in front of strangers.

“And much too old for bedtime tales, I assume?” asked Elladan. Aradir nodded. “Then perhaps you will indulge your very curious Adar and allow me to finish reading the book we started last night. I am of the opinion the story is more interesting when read out loud,” he added casually.

“Well, I suppose you cannot leave it unfinished, so I will listen,” agreed Aradir who was really quite anxious to hear more of the heroic deeds of the warrior in the story.

“Speaking of sleep,” began Celeborn as the two brothers and their families left for their chambers, “allow me to show you four to the guest rooms. I assume Glorfindel intends to stay with his friends here in Tirion, as usual?”

“Very astute, Celeborn. Now that I have seen my charges safely to your home, and paid my respects to you and your lovely wife, it is indeed time for me to seek out those who are expecting me. Namarie all, I will see you again sometime during our stay.  I will also endeavour to keep out of trouble, my dear Elrond,” he added with a twinkle in his eye that did nothing to appease his friend’s disquiet on that subject.